Sexual Desires of the Receptionist at the Escorts Agency 

The footsteps on the floorboard announced my eventual doom. 

They were too heavy to be Amanda’s, too slow and measured. Like whoever was walking had all the time in the world. 

I on the other hand did not. 

I scrambled around, trying to put everything back in order and erase any evidence of my presence. I thrust the jewelry box back into the drawers trying to return the Victorian room to pristine condition. 

And then caught sight of myself in the mirror and realized it was too late.

I was still wearing the dress, the one made out of decadent red silk that skimmed every curve and turned my too-big body into a thing of seduction. The dress was somehow the most scandalous thing in this entire room and that was saying something because chains and ropes were hanging from the walls, whips were in corners, and the room had all the makings of a good sex dungeon hidden in the basement of a large Georgian property in an expensive part of London.

Yet it was the dress that grabbed my attention and didn’t let go, compelling me to try it on.

Even worse than the dress was the collar at my neck. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I’d put that on in the first place other than sheer stupidity. And perhaps desperation. It had been a horrible few weeks not being able to gossip with the escorts at the London agency where I worked a part time receptionist and this was the first time I’d felt anything resembling arousal. I wanted to nurture the sensation for as long as possible before I had to return to the real world. I wanted to pretend that it was him putting the latch around my neck and running his hands down my body.

It felt like a relatively safe time to daydream. No one was supposed to be home as Amanda and her dad were supposed to be going on a shopping spree in town. But something had to have gone wrong because it was undoubtedly Hunter Buchanan's footsteps coming down the stairs.

It was his hands that were twisting the handle of the door that I’d stupidly forgotten to lock.

And finally, it was his body filling the doorway, his aura completely paralyzing me for a second.

But he’d always had that effect on me.

Hunter was large, larger even than my father who’d been a big man. Hunter and my father had been best friends and I'd known him since I was a teenager. After my dad died, Hunter and his daughter Amanda invited me to their house to grieve in peace.

But I'd returned his kindness by going through his stuff and trying his ex's things on.

Humiliation and regret filled me.

 “I don’t- I...” I couldn't finish. I didn’t have an excuse. There was nothing I could say to make my snooping excusable so I simply stood there like an idiot staring at him.

But then he did something unexpected. Instead of yelling or leveling that famous disapproving look on me, a smile curled up the side of his lips.

“Playing dress up?” He walked in and let the door shut behind him.

“No, I... I was just trying to… it looked so beautiful I couldn’t resist…” The last words ended in a whisper as he got closer to me. His scent surrounded me and one hand came out to trail down the side of the dress.

Electricity sparked everywhere he touched; in that instance I imagined this must be arousal that the escort girls feel every time they visit a client in a swanky London pied-à-terre.

“Suits you,” he said. “But you should have asked me first.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

"If you’d asked me,” he continued and I wasn’t imagining that his voice had gotten even deeper, sultrier. "I would have gotten you something more suiting, perhaps in gold to emphasize your beautiful skin."

His finger snuck under the collar and tugged me closer, eyes falling to my lips. I gasped as desire wished through me. We were breaths away now.

“And I would have been yours, honey.”

The moan came out of nowhere, and I blushed in embarrassment. He’d always called me that but never had it had such an effect before. I could feel myself getting damp between my thighs.

“I want you,” I told him, lust forcing me to be honest.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time," he responded.

“Really?”

“Of course. But I promised your dad I would take care of you.”

Some sort of boldness overtook me from nowhere. I kicked my lips and gave him my best coquettish smile.

“So take care of me.”

I watched his expression shift into an intensity that stole my breath. In the next moment, I was swept off my feet and perched on the edge of the table.

“First, I’ve got to inspect you,” he smiled wickedly and winked. "To see if you’d been touched."

“Touched?” I whispered but before I could do much more than that he went on his knees. It was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. Even in my wildest sexual fantasies, I never ever imagined Hunter Buchanan on his knees before me.

Neither did I imagine him slowly nudging my legs, open, bringing his face closer to my pussy and inhaling.

"You smell so fucking good, honey."

"Really?" I asked, even as my clit tingled at his remark. I wanted to squirm and move against the table but I held still as his nose came closer, nuzzling the tufts of hair at my entrance.

And then in a sudden motion, he thrust his tongue into me and flicked my clit. 

I gasped and jerked a little, but his large hands pressed my thighs down holding me in place. His eyes flicked up to me, and I noted the mischief in them as he slowly laved my slit again, soothing the previous touch.

I grasped onto his hair then and shook, feeling like my nerve endings were on fire.

He licked my clit again, in a rough way that titillated my senses, and had my toes curling. He nipped and sucked at it until the clit emerged from its hood. Then he started flicking his tongue against it, faster and faster.

My entire body shook as an avalanche of lust washed through me. Sounds were coming out of me but I didn't know what I was saying. My mind shut down completely, every stray thought tuned into the sensations sending fire through my veins. My hands shook and I felt like I was going to fall over, but I held on watching him. And he watched me back as one hand moved, one finger slipping in through my slit, caressing my pussy entrance. I bit my lip, trying and failing to keep the dying sound in as he went deeper and deeper while his tongue moved faster and faster.

Then he nipped my clit again while thrusting his finger into my pussy.

I had to shut my eyes then. I couldn't take it anymore- it felt like a sensation overload. Before I knew what was happening, I was rutting against his face, gasping and crying out my release.

"That's right baby," he groaned into my pussy. "Come for me."