Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Kerry was trembling, damn it. "Hunh?"
"You're wearing damned tights."
"This dress is too short for stockings."
His eyes glittered as he pushed her back gently. "Take them off."
She was helpless. Damn it, rubbing against that magnificent cock she was shimmering on the verge of the mother of all orgasms. The lights in the gym were bright, nearly harsh, but in them he was a golden god. Standing on shaking feet she kicked off her shoes and slowly raised her skirt. His eyes watched her intently and Kerry lost all hope of orchestrating a seduction or running away.
She peeled off the tights and tried not to shake, and when her legs were bare she stood there, for the first time in years completely unsure of herself.
"Come here," Henry fairly growled.
When she came close he snatched her and lifted Kerry as if she weighed nothing, settling her right back onto straddling his lap. His eyes held hers as his hand retraced its earlier path ad found she wore no panties.
They both felt shock at the intimate touch. She didn't think she had ever been this wet, and as he gently stroked her damp folds Kerry dug her nails into his skin and cried out.
"Oh, sweetheart, before we go too far I don't suppose you have a condom hidden somewhere in this skin-tight dress?"
"Bloody hell, no. Up in the room, in my purse," she nearly panted out as he found her clit and slowly circled.
"Not yet. We'll just have to enjoy what we don't need a condom for."
With his free hand he tugged down her dress, already low enough she had been forced to wear a demi-bra leaving her nipples to rub on the dress which now kissed the cool air. Brutally he latched on one, suckling and licking, and a thick finger speared her.
She cried out, certain the top of her head was going to blow off. Henry's hand cleverly swiveled and the pad of a thick thumb rested on her clit. Driven to madness she began to ride his hand, shots of icy pleasure shooting through her where his eager mouth worked her sensitive nipple.
It had been too long for her, she swore as her body galloped to the peak. It wasn't Henry driving her there, she reasoned, it couldn't be, it was just pent up need and tension from the biggest job of her career. Those thoughts melted as her body tightened, and Henry left one nipple with a sweet nip of teeth to claim the other.
She came, grinding on him hard, biting her lip to stop the near scream. Henry reached up to stroke the other nipple and kept his other hand between her legs, finger buried deep, holding on for dear life as she shook violently.
A sudden calmness came over him as she went soft and completely pliant against him. She was unlike any woman he'd ever met. One moment a true vixen, the next shy, she was smart, she was passionate, and she was so damn hot he didn't even care she wasn't a blonde.
He was about to drag her upstairs to finish what they had begun when the door opened. Quickly Henry stood, disengaging, and shoved her behind him so fast Kerry had to grab his ribs to steady herself.
"Excusez-moi, je suis désolé!" The waiter who resembled David Tennant said, his accent clearly British.
"Just leave!" Henry ordered, having picked up on the waiter's nationality.
"Beg pardon," the Interpol agent in disguise said and left.
Seeing him brought reality crashing back to Kerry. She had come to ask Henry to contact Interpol. Worse, Kerry was lying to him, and asking him what she had to was just another lie.
Kerry herself had been sent there by Interpol to capture Franklin McCall.
