The Prospect by Lucia Jordan Page B

managed to
get in the news for more than just his work.
    His
women, for example. Gorgeous
music video vixens, top models, actresses. He’d had them all. Suddenly,
Wendy couldn’t help wondering how come she’d managed to snare such a catch.
    She wasn’t
bad on the eye, certainly. She paid attention to her body, and looked good for
her mid-twenties. She had respectable tits, not too large but firm. Her ass,
she knew, would be considered her best feature, so her exes had told her.
Round, firm, bouncy. Much like her breasts but in a slightly
larger proportion. Something told her Alan wasn’t going to be too sorry
about that.
    He
didn’t waste much time. He offered her a drink , she declined . She needed her wits about her, she decided.
She wanted to enjoy every minute without a cloud of alcohol hazing out the
episode.
    “Come
with me,” he said quietly. He linked his fingers with her, a very intimate and
somehow calming gesture. She followed him eagerly.
    He
weaved through corridors to a door, which he then opened. Wendy looked inside,
and saw that it was a bedroom, just not like any bedroom she had ever seen
before. There was a big bed with iron posts, but not much else. There was some
kind of dresser next to it with a drawer, and there was a large ornate mirror
just over the bed.
    She
advanced into the room as he shut the door behind him. Turning around to face
him, she swallowed. He came forward, placed his hands on her shoulders, and
kissed her.
    It was
a nice touch. The kiss was warm, passionate, sexy . All
at once it put her at her ease to have this first physical contact with him. It
also made her hornier than ever.
    When he
pulled back, she was ready to melt in a puddle at his feet. She settled for
waiting for his next move.
    “You’re
going to obey my every command, without hesitation,” he said softly, backing
away. “If you agree and understand, say “Yes Sir.””
    “Yes,
Sir,” Wendy said immediately. Any other guy and she’d be rolling her eyes. But
with him, in this room, it felt…right.
    “And
you’ll address me as “Sir” as long as we remain in here. Can you remember to do
that?”
    She
started to nod, but then said firmly, “Yes Sir.”
    He
smiled, approvingly and warmly. But then the smile disappeared and his face
took on a somewhat predatory cast. She could feel his need for her from across
the space between them. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, maybe even
more. The thought made her inner muscles quiver.
    “Now,
take off your clothes, slowly. I like a good strip tease.”
    Wendy
gulped. The gleam in his eye as she reached for the straps of her dress was
enough to make her feel like her clothes were on fire. Just with him watching
her every move, she got wet. Seeing his gaze darken as she let the dress slip
off her to the floor, had her almost panting.
Stripping for him made her feel so sexy, desirable. She didn’t rush, reaching
round her to unhook her bra which she shouldered off.
He gazed at her breasts and instantly, her nipples hardened and twinged of
their own accord.
    “Nice,”
he said with husky approval. “Everything goes, Wendy. Especially the panties.”
    “Of
course, Sir,” she said meekly, biting back a chortle. She hooked her fingers
into the waist band of the matching black lace thong.
Down it went. She kicked it to the side with the toe of her shoe.
    “The
heels – leave them on. It’ll give a certain allowance for height when
needed,” he said in a voice she couldn’t recognize. Now he was staring at her
sex. Wendy was glad now she’d had that Brazilian only days ago. The soreness was gone and she was still smooth as satin. He looked like
the kind of guy who liked it just so.
    She was
right. “Very nice,” he said deeply. “Now I want you to go and face the bed
– hands holding the bedpost.”
    “Yes
Sir,” Wendy said, ever compliant. She didn’t mind being ordered around, she
decided. Not in this context. It felt kind of hot, to be honest.