The Client

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She can't stand him, but can she resist him?
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Her eyes burned into the back of his head as he walked away. How could any one man be so arrogant, so cocky, such a royal prick? That he had the power and position to get away with it only made it more frustrating. No one had the right to speak to another human being the way he just spoke to her. She was not accustomed to being treated in this fashion, moreover, she had done nothing wrong. If this asshole wanted a nursemaid, it wasn't her. He expected things from her and others in her office that no other client would ever hope. He commanded them as if he owned them, as if their jobs depended on his satisfaction. The sad thing was, they did.

It wasn't a good business strategy; the firm depended on him for at least half of their business. But when times were tight, he came along. His account elevated sales to where they once were. Now that they had this, it was hard to walk away from. Even harder to bring any account to offset the percentage of sales he represented. So they all endured his abuse, her especially. She seemed to always be in the line of fire. Her boss, founding partner of the firm, was the only one capable of appeasing him. This required her to bow and scrape, much as she despised it.

She thought back to the first time she saw him. He was an imposing man, standing well above anyone around him. It wasn't just height, it was attitude. His eyes seemed to look right through her. No one else had ever had this effect on her. He with one look reduced her to a babbling schoolgirl. She had worked hard to reach this station in life. She resented him for the way he treated her. More than that she resented him for getting to her the way he did. He was never without his trappings. Always impeccably dressed, immaculately groomed. One of his suits cost more than she or any of her co-workers made in a month. He had a propensity for gold, his cufflinks, his Rolex, his cufflinks, were all the best. He admired beautiful things, and required he possess anything he saw that struck his fancy. He always looked as if he had just gotten back from some tropical holiday. Deeply tanned, with a booming voice that went right through her. After seeing him that first day, she decided she was attracted to him. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't all his trappings. Something deep inside her needed his attention. He was a commanding personality, and she knew she might be a willing subject.

All those feelings were long ago pushed down, now she only felt loathing and hate for him. As she had done so many times before, she led him back into her boss's office. He admired her walk as she did. The legs, the firm behind, and those wonderful heels she always wore. Unbeknownst to her, she was on the list of things he admired. He would possess her, someday, somewhere. She opened the door for him, and stepped aside as he walked through. His size, his cologne, and his general scent momentarily overcame her. This man smelled of success. As he walked through the door, she regained her composure. Her boss rose to shake his hand as she shut the door. She was out to lunch when he left. Thank god for small miracles she thought. Her happiness was short lived though, her inter office line rang. It was her boss; apparently the client had forgotten some important contracts. Could she possibly stop and have these signed on her way home? As she always did, she agreed. She adored her boss, he always stood by her. She cursed under her breath when he handed her the address. Not only was he in the best hotel in town, he had the penthouse as well. Ironic she thought, not only was his nose in the air, his accommodations were as well.

She left the office early, leaving herself enough time to get home to her husband after stopping off for the contracts. She stopped momentarily before leaving to check herself in the mirror. She still had it, even though 30 was just around the corner. The humidity had left for the time being, and her face was still framed with the long soft curls she had this morning. Her business suit was far from conservative, the skirt well above the knee. Her jacket should have been worn with some sort of blouse underneath, but she preferred its low cut neckline. She wore only a string of pearls in her ample cleavage. This particular outfit always made her feel sexy. Only her husband knew the remainder of the outfit. The suit was black, and the undergarments she wore with it were as well. The bra was tiny, holding her firm breasts tightly, pushing them up and out. She normally wore pantyhose, for the convenience aspect. She was the only one that knew what was underneath today. Black silk stockings suspended by a black garter belt. The panties were microscopic, barely covering her, but matching She arrived at the hotel late, traffic was horrible. Her nerves were shot; it had been a long week. On her way to the elevators, she noticed the lounge. A drink, she thought, just to settle my nerves. She was late already; a few more minutes wouldn't kill her. She passed a pay phone on the way, but thought better of calling her husband. She wasn't expected home for at least a few hours.

As her eyes adjusted to the low light in the bar, she asked the bartender for her favorite poison. As the soothing alcohol washed over her, she glanced around the room. He was already coming towards her; apparently he had seen her come in. She looked up at him from her perch on the barstool, awaiting the worst. Somehow he looked different to her now. The suit was the same; she was a sucker for an Armani. His seemed to fit him better than any she had seen. He must have them custom fitted she thought. He seemed like a different person now, gone was that hard look on his face. He spoke to her gently for the first time ever. "I was worried, you were supposed to be her an hour ago,” he said. She apologized, blaming the Friday afternoon traffic. He sat down beside her, reaching for the portfolio she had laid on the bar. After looking through the contracts, he seemed confused. "These are not what we discussed today, could you come up to the room with me, I need to make a phone call to confirm." His softness and concern had touched her deeply. All the feelings she kept down were slowly creeping up on her. His eyes were intense, taking in all in front of him quickly. She wished they were on her, instead of on the papers in front of him. Suddenly she heard him speak to her again, "Here's the room key, finish your drink and meet me."

Before she could speak, he was gone. She spent the next few minutes trying to regain her composure. She was feeling flushed, not just from the cocktail, but from him. She had never seen this side of him before. This was the way she hoped he would be. Seeing him like this, acting like a human being, reaffirmed her attractions to him, her desires. Her mind was running away on her now, she needed another drink. She ordered and caught the elevator to his suite. She felt funny just letting herself into the room.

As the door opened, she saw him seated on the couch. He waved her in, and returned to his phone call. She wasn't sure whether she should sit down or not. She elected to sit at the small table, her silk stockings rubbed against themselves as she crossed her legs. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she didn't reach to adjust her skirt as she always did. It crept up the extra inch or two, showing the lace tops of her stockings. As she looked out the window, taking in the incredible view, the client also took in her view. She was content, this was an incredible suite, and the view was beautiful. It was so nice to see him like this, a normal person. She decided he wasn't so bad after all just had a different face for business. She liked this one much better. She was happy to see he had removed his jacket, showing his broad chest and shoulders. The tie was undone now also, he looked much softer to her. He spoke in soft tones; the hard edge to his voice was gone now. She listened to his end of the conversation, his deep tones vibrating in her ears.

He hung up the phone, only to have it ring again. He smiled at her, gesturing to the bar on the other side of the room. She rose, realizing she was working up to a nice buzz. Her legs felt a touch on the shaky side as she went to pour herself a third drink. She saw the bottle of Jack Daniel's out and opened, she fixed him another also. Before she had a chance to turn around, his thundering voice echoed through the room. Someone had obviously upset him, the man she knew from the office had returned. She pitied the poor fool on the other end of the phone. She knew how his wrath could cause the strongest of people to wither into nothing. She recovered from her initial shock, happy that for once his anger was not directed at her. She crossed the room and set his drink down next to him.

She got some rather strange pleasure witnessing one of his tirades, while not being the object of his anger. While she felt sorry for the poor fool on the other end of the phone, this was a welcome change. She smugly turned toward the view again, bending over to rest her elbows on the window ledge. She felt his eyes on her, and she pushed her firm behind out further still. He was still ranting and raving, but he couldn't tear his eyes from her. He had noticed her before, admired her figure, her long curls. But now she almost seemed in reach. They were away from the office; all of the airs they had to put on there were gone.

The alcohol was really starting to take its toll on her now. She felt a warm fuzzy feeling, along with a stirring between her silk encased thighs. For some reason unbeknownst to her, her nipples were taught and aching. They brushed against the lace of her bra, she tensed with pleasure each time she moved. Her mind was in a fog now, all she could think of was the feeling coming over her. Each cocktail had washed away another layer of her inhibitions. She felt empowered, in charge, she could have this man any way she wanted.

She turned and faced him, wiping a small bead of perspiration from her upper lip. He stood, still on the phone, gesturing wildly. He wasn't looking at her, he was rifling through the contracts on the couch in front of him. She wanted his attention; she needed to feel his eyes on her. She sighed, hoping to draw his gaze. He looked up for a moment, only to find her fondling the top button on her jacket. This held his attention, and he met her gaze. She pushed her silken curls back off her face, fanning herself, gesturing that she was hot. He stood silent, not sure what she wanted him to do. Something the party on the phone said angered him further still, he shouted back at them. She knew her time had come, she knew how to draw a man's attention.

She stood before him, almost posing. Her back was straight, her shoulders pulled back stretching the jacket tight against her breasts. She placed her black patent leather heels apart on the deep pile of the carpet beneath her, and steadied a gaze at him. His eyes rose to meet her pose, her fingers went to the first button on her jacket again. She didn't fondle it this time, it popped free of the jacket in her fingers. She continued yet lower, undoing each button slowly, never tearing her eyes from his. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he was more than willing to watch. The party on the other end of the phone must have been making excuses a mile a minute. He held the receiver to his ear, but paid no attention.

When she had finally reached the final button on her double-breasted jacket, it only parted slightly. Showing him her deep cleavage, just a glimpse of the tiny black lace bra, and her firm tummy. He watched her hands run up her hips to the lapels of her jacket. She grasped each one now, pulling it open, showing him her taut nipples pushing up against the black lace. He watched her breasts rise and fall with her breathing. She was in danger of falling out of this tiny garment should she happen to breathe any faster. With one fluid motion, the jacket fell from her body. The satin lay in a pool on the floor at her feet. Her hands were at her breasts now, covering them with her palms. She looked at him wantonly as she palmed her firm flesh. The nipples pushed back against her palms, so hard now that they ached.

She wasn't sure why she had revealed herself to him like this. It felt right, holding his attention, arousing him. For once she was in control, she was in charge. This outfit drove her crazy every time she wore it. Now finally she was displaying it to the hungry eyes of a strange man, teasing him, driving him beyond reason, beyond conscience. Nothing else outside these walls mattered, only his eyes on her and the growing desire welling inside her. The power intoxicated her; she reached for the zipper on her skirt and thought better of it. She turned to the small table in front of the window. She placed one hand on the surface, while the other traced a line up the back of her thigh. She had bent over slightly, pulling the skirt up further when her fingers reached the hem. She looked at him over her bare shoulder, tossing her hair to one side. As she gently pulled the skirt up, she revealed more and more of what lay beneath. The lace tops of her silk stockings, the satin stays of her garter belt, the smooth flesh of her ass. He couldn't see the panties from this angle, for they had no back. She had felt the satin lining of her skirt rubbing against her bare buttocks all day, the g-string resting firmly in the cleft of her ass. She was forever adjusting these, it never felt right. But now the string lay in the valley of her desire, and she reached to pull it tighter still against her gushing flower.

She turned to face him again, her hands finally going to the zipper on the back of her skirt. It fell from her body to her ankles. She stepped from it, kicking it off to the corner of the room. He was sitting on the couch now, facing her, his jaw in his lap. She walked to him as he devoured her with his eyes. She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath and thrusting her full breasts out to him. She turned now, fingers still tangled in her curls, and showed him the delicate curve of her ass. He reached out to touch her, only to have her step away from him. She shook her finger at him, then took his hands and gently placed them in his lap.

He had no hope of continuing his telephone conversation now. He hung up on the other party in mid sentence. She was sure they wouldn't complain, being spared his wrath. Apparently this woman only wanted him to look, and he could definitely think of worse fates. She asked him to sit on his hands, and to make sure to keep them to himself. He complied without question, she owned him now. He was not accustomed to surrendering control, but in this case an exception seemed the only way. He only hoped that she desired him as he did her.

From where he sat on the couch, he watched hungrily as she continued to run her hands down her firm flesh. He watched her crimson nails trace lines from the tops of her stockings up her hips to pull on her panties gently. She rocked her hips forward as she did this, further pulling the flimsy garment into her folds. She came to him again, making sure his hands were where she had asked. She pushed him back on the couch, climbing on top of him. She placed her knees on either side of him, trapping his wrists between her stockinged thighs and his own. She knelt upright, towering over him for the first time. His eyes fell to her breasts again; he longed to bury his face there. She didn't make him wait long; she reached for the small clasp of her bra. She shrugged free of the garment and caught her breasts in her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and bit her lip. To finally feel flesh against flesh, even though it was her own hands, swept her away for a moment. Her nipples ached, they needed attention, her need was urgent.

She tore her hands away from her breasts and reached for him. She gently caressed his face, holding it between her small hands. She kissed him briefly, and then pulled his face to her breasts. She felt her panties dampen further as his lips closed around her nipple. His teeth grazed her nipple, biting gently. She threw her head back and let out a low moan. Her desire had become so urgent, that having only one of her breasts attended to was not enough. She caught the other nipple between her fingers and twisted gently. He kept trying to rub the throbbing bulge in his pleated slacks up against her. She continued the tease, desiring him to only service her needs now. Each time she felt him thrust upward, she moved away. She kept his face pressed to her breast tightly however, her head spinning as his tongue circled her nipple repeatedly.

Her nipple popped from his mouth, startling him. She stood again now, her hands going to her hips. She gently eased the panties from her, feeling the emptiness in her folds as she pulled them free. Her desire was gushing from her now, she felt it run down the inside of her thigh. She held the small black panties for him to see, asking him if he was proud of himself. He had affected her deeply, and she ran the garment down the side of his face to prove it. Her scent intoxicated him, the panties were soaked. She took them away entirely too quickly for him. He couldn't get enough of her, of her scent. She didn't disappoint him; he watched her climb on to the couch again. She didn't kneel this time however; she stood with a spiked heel on each side of him. She grabbed him by the hair, and pulled his face to her.

Placing one foot on the back of the couch, she opened her thighs enough for him to bury his face there. She held his face while she rubbed her moist opening over his lips. He lapped up all the honey oozing from her, afraid that if he didn't, he might drown in her desire. His tongue captured every drop clinging to her soft curls, every drop escaping down the inside of her thigh. He didn't finish quickly enough for her. She pulled on his hair sharply, grinding her hips into his mouth. After the way she had teased herself for so long, she needed his lips on her. She spasmed violently as his lips closed around her taut clit. Now that she finally had him where she wanted him, she held his face between her thighs. She felt his tongue sweep through her folds, always returning back to her clit. This man was worshipping her with his mouth, leaving no fold untouched. She felt her climax building, her muscles tensing.

She was humping this poor mans face at a fevered pitch now. She could feel her orgasm coming, it tore through her violently. She held her breath as it washed over her. His mouth moved to her opening, trying to catch the torrent gushing forth from her. She felt his tongue slide up inside her, coaxing the last of her orgasm from her. Her grip on his hair loosened now, but his face remained at the mouth of her desire. He lapped every bit of her womanhood. Gently, slowly and thoroughly he washed her with his tongue. She finally released him, stepping from the couch. She turned and walked back to where her clothes lay on the floor.

She heard him get up, and turned to ask him if there was something she could help him with. It was then that he realized she had no intention of continuing. There was no way he would release her now. His throbbing cock was threatening to tear through his pants. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. He pulled her to him, grabbing a handful of her ass as he did. She tried to push him away; she was finished and had no further use for him. The tease had gone on long enough, he demanded satisfaction from her.

He turned her around and bent her over the table. She was in the same position as before, with one exception. His hands were on her shoulders, holding her there. With his free hand he undid his pants. As they fell to the floor, he grabbed a handful of her hair. He told that she was his, and that like it or not, he was going to have her. He suggested that she cooperate, and follow instructions as he had. Even though she felt some fear for what was to come, she knew he wasn't kidding. Maybe this was her way of rationalizing an illicit encounter, letting herself think that she had no power over what happened. Her concerns were the furthest thing from his mind. His only concern was burying his throbbing member in the folds he had licked and sucked so thoroughly.

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