[M rating!] it's a hot one, and it only gets steamier in the next chapter. Enjoy!
Mr Pellicci's voice travels from the back of the café for the third time in the space of five minutes. I was helping him to finish off the stock count, anxiously aware that if I didn't leave right this moment, I would miss seeing Alan in the parking lot. I should have left ten minutes ago.
"I'm sorry Mr Pellicci, I have to leave now. The chemist is going to shut." It was the first thing that sprang to mind.
He pushes his glasses back upon his nose, head still in his numbers and gestures me on. If I had of known it was that easy, I would have left before now. I felt a little bad. I'd always helped him with the stock count, but I was so desperate to see Alan, I couldn't wait another moment.
Alan had text me on the forth day after he gave me the ride home, now December 14th. A few simple words were all it took to set my heart a flutter; combined with the fact Scott had been a complete manipulative asshole all week and I wanted to escape.
"I'm trying to get this fucking promotion and you're out there getting pissed, staying out all night. What kind of woman are you anyway? I bust my balls working for us; you could at least have prepared something for when I got home. I don't ask much, Beck! I'm the one who's keeping our heads above water."
"And you think I don't work hard?! I'm working non-stop from the moment I arrive until the moment I leave. I stand on my feet all day. You sit behind a desk. I'm tired of you putting me down just because you're earning more. I work my ass off too!"
Scott rolls his eyes and makes a mockery of how strenuous it must be to work in a coffee house. This is nothing new. He forgets that he was the one to persuade me to move to London with him and drop out of university, that it was the right decision. He said with my writing abilities I could quite easily approach independent producers and directors with regards to my play script whilst working a regular 9-5. This is the 9-5 that he now belittles me with, which subsequently spirals into the fact I can barely focus on my play script at home because of our rocky relationship.
Under-appreciated, disrespected and undervalued, I felt no remorse on my way to the parking lot to see Alan that evening; neither did I feel it for the lipstick I applied before I left or the button I undone on my shirt.
.......
"I was starting to think you wouldn't show," he says with a smirk.
In the dark ambience of the parking lot, behind the blacked out windows of his BMW, our lips meet, melting together like honey, and it's everything I needed since the moment he drove me home. He responds to my enthusiasm, my questing tongue that toys with his, and buries a hand into the back of my hair. Just to feel his fingers on my neck sets me aflame.
"I missed you," I sigh, into our kiss.
"I was beginning to miss you too."
"Beginning?" I cock an eyebrow, teasingly.
"Well...you've been so vivid in my thoughts, it was as if you were still with me, except..."
There he goes pausing for effect, just inches from my lips, almost whispering.
"...Except I couldn't taste you."
A gentle sigh leaves me as our tongues erotically caress. He has such a way of kissing that makes me convulse between my thighs. An overwhelming need comes over me, and my hands that are pawing at his dark suited chest slink down...down...and begin slowly rubbing over the forming bulge in his trousers. He doesn't object and breathes in through his nose in enjoyment, smiling slight against my mouth.
My lips brush from his, trailing to his cheek, his ear, breathing in his scent that makes me want to rip off his expensive suit. His girth astounds me just as it did when I first lay a hand on it. I can feel the defined head of his cock and I run my fingers over it. Then, bringing myself close to his ear, adopt the sexiest voice...
"I wanna give you a blow job."
Alan inhales deeply though his nose, smirking.
"Be my guest," he purrs.
Smiling hungrily, I carefully unzip his pants and reveal his rigid, more than ready cock that throbs with ardent longing in my hand. One look at his delicious engorged head and I want to ride it to ecstasy, but this is all about him. Our kissing continues, slowly, sexily as I begin to jerk his erection, tongues caressing, his hands in my hair. A bassy moan pours from his lips into mine like molasses.
His manhood is magnificent and I make it known with every sweet nothing I whisper into his mouth, palming over his silky smooth head before I dip down and position myself between the seats.
Nothing could prepare me for his taste, the slip of his rounded plump head against my lips, slipping with his lubrication – so delicious. The sighs that leave Alan's lips are harmonious, making my clit throb as he pushes back my long hair just to watch me. He has that sexy crinkle in his brow that I love. He takes a sharp inhale, coaxing back my hair and rests his eyes closed, head back in the seat enjoying every flick of my tongue, every pull, every mouthful as suck him like a popsicle being given to me in a dry desert, and boy do I suck him.
Alan's blacked out windows make it impossible for anyone to see in, but knowing there were people outside made it wildly exciting. If they bared witness, they would see a sophisticated looking man in his swish car scandalously receiving head from a much younger woman bobbing hungrily in his lap. Said man is classy enough to call me darling as I do, but not so upper class that he doesn't enjoy receiving a blow job in a parking lot.
"You taste so good," I whisper against him. I look up and he's relaxing with his arm against the window with his eyes semi closed, tangling his other hand in my hair. Effortlessly sexy. I feel like a vixen with his pre-come glistening over my lips, as passers by walk past his car. There was something devilishly sexy about Alan's suited formal attire in contrast with the smuttiness of getting his cock sucked that drove us both wild. His tongue runs over his lips watching me go back for more, taking him deep into my mouth.
There is nothing sexier than listening to this man talk, but to hear him moan is on another level.
I'm wet right through, moaning into his lengthy manhood whilst he gently thrusts my mouth. He hisses in delight as I take him deepest thus far, and deeply frowns.
"Ughhhh..." he moans, "Rebecca..."
I want him to love it, every second, every lick, every drop of come he releases, I want him to think about it when he drives home and when he goes to sleep at night.
Alan takes another sharp inhale, his thigh tensing beneath my hand. I rub it up and down. So taught. His breath is shaking.
"Ugghh darling...don't you stop that..."
I love the way he still calls me darling even though the way I'm sucking his cock would suggest far more salacious terms.
Listening to Alan moan is almost as good as his sex, deep and reverberating from the depths of his chest, shaking in his throat. If he were to touch my clit right now I'm sure I would come like a waterfall.
I draw up from his cock and jerk him with continuous vigour, licking at his essence on my lips, and this is it. His thighs are like rocks underneath me, his eyes wickedly alight, flaming into mine, his chest rising and falling. He brushes back my hair, cradling a hand to the back of my head as I dip to his cock, and with a deep throaty moan, he comes frantically on my tongue, burst after burst each with a grunt of pleasure.
Catching every bit of his hot release creaming over my lips, I drink him in. Every. Last. Drop. I look up to see him watching me with bleary eyes and a naughty smile.
"How did I do?" My eyes gleam, adopting a manner of steamy sex siren, clearly knowing the answer, but in need to hear him say it.
"Bloody outstanding," he sighs.
Much to my delight, he offers a role reversal, and now, with his hand buried underneath my skirt, he slips his fingers into my underwear and attends to my swollen clit with the perfect pressure. All the while we're kissing; tongues, lips, eyes meeting on the occasion we pull away just as I gasp. My arm is across his broad back with him leaning into me, pulling him close as he reaches my g-spot. I writhe into his hand like a serpent, mouth agape to his neck as bolts of pleasure soar through my centre.
"Like music to my ears," he says in his low bass, vibrating his fingers in my depth so perfectly I push up from the seat as he brings me to my hilt.
"Oh god I missed you," I moan.
How I longed to feel him since we departed and now, here I was about to come, gasping in wonder against his neck. He smelt so good. If my lipstick hadn't of rubbed off on his dick, it would have been all over his collar. My thighs shudder as I cling to him, and I'm there, flowing, convulsing in his arms and it's everything.
Everything.
We smile about it afterwards, kisses slowing into a gentle come down.
"So, how was your day?" I ask him comically.
Alan laughs.
"Oh not too bad at all. This however has clearly been the highlight."
Everything I wanted to hear.
Aware of the time, Alan turns to me and says "Well, I can either take you home, or...you're most welcome to come back to mine."
Oh god, if life had a pause button, I'd hit it right about now. Say something. Scott. What do I say, what do I say? Isabelle – she would cover for me.
"Urrr...umm..."
Don't stutter, now you look like you don't want to. Fool. At lightning speed I'm trying to juggle the potential excuses.
"Sure. I mean, yes...I'd love to."
He smiles, presses a kiss to my lips and puts on his seat belt. As we drive in casual conversation, my head is running a thousand miles an hour, thumbs tapping over phone screen to inform Isabelle.
Isabelle, I need you to back me up. Sexy silver fox is taking me back to his place. I need you to cover for me. If Scott contacts you, tell him we're out Christmas shopping.
That would do it. It wasn't unusual for Isabelle and I to take long shopping trips and relax at her place with a glass of wine afterwards. It was the only place Scott ever did let me go. My theory was that with her being a co-worker, it was harder to separate us.
1 message received from Isabelle – "I told you he'd be back! Go get him. Your story is safe with me. Over and out."
Following this I message Scott, adding to the end just to keep things sweet, 'what was the brand of the organiser you wanted for the new year? I'm going to try and pick it up. Waterstones should stock it."
"Alright. It's Moleskine."
And relax. Nothing but Alan and I and the rest of the evening, and sex. Lots of sex.