He turned to face the bed again, holding out her phone, which he’d grabbed from the desk. “Why don’t you take some with your phone? That will free me up to touch you.”
She’d never felt such an intense mixture of relief and excitement. Recess wasn’t over after all.
Ever so slowly he came down from his full height and kneeled on the carpet in front of her, watching her all the while. “Now then,” he said, grasping both her wrists. “Put the phone here and wait until I tell you.” He positioned the phone at the opening of her skirt.
She braced for his touch, and then it came. She shivered at the rush of sparks as he reached once more up her thighs to her panties. This time his fingers slipped past the lacy edge.
She held her breath, anticipating what he would do next, uneasy with the knowledge that she’d completely lost control of this situation, yet dizzy with the thrill of it. Her afternoon honed to this point: feeling his fingers where they shouldn’t be and wondering how far they would go.
His fingertips stopped at the edge of her, stroking her clit and making her squirm. “That would probably make a good shot,” he growled. “Give it a try.”
She took the picture, sighing at the sudden warmth of the flash.
“Let’s see,” he said, sliding his hand out of her skirt and reaching for her phone. He examined the picture critically. “The prop is good, but the shot is too dark. See for yourself.” He handed it to her.
She peered at the photo. His big hand disappeared beneath her pale pink panties, all lit brilliantly by the flash and clear as day. She rushed wet again at the sight.
“Let’s try taking your skirt off,” he suggested. “To improve the lighting.”
She stood. There wasn’t much room with him kneeling in front of her, so the fabric of her skirt brushed his chin as he gazed up at her. He didn’t blink.
She reached behind her with both hands and unclasped the waistband of her skirt, then unzipped it down the back and let the material drop. It grazed his nose and fell to the floor. Now his head was level with her panties.
“Do you think you’ll be able to see me better now?” she asked.
“One way to find out. Why don’t you sit back down?”
She sat on the bed and waited for him to hand her the phone, but he slid it onto the desk.
So recess was over this time. Now they were getting down to business.
He shoved his fingers past her panties. His hand didn’t pause there. His fingers reached inside her, shallowly at first, testing. He must have felt immediately how wet she was for him, because he pushed deeper. His eyes never left hers. His lips parted. “You know, the bottom of your blouse is in the way of a good picture.”
“Can you help me?”
Nodding, he shifted forward, his fingers moving even farther inside her so that she groaned. With his other hand he reached for the next button of her blouse and unfastened it, then moved down to the next. Still caressing her inside with one hand, he moved the halves of her blouse aside, revealing her lacy bra. She panted, her br**sts rising and falling rapidly.
“Better?” she asked breathlessly.
“I think we need to try a new prop.”
He must feel the way she tightened around his fingers. She was excited and a little frightened. “Like what?” she breathed.
“My mouth.” Slowly he pulled his fingers out of her and rubbed his thumb back and forth across her slick clit. “Right here. We’re going to have to take your panties off, though, because they’re in the way.” He used both hands to slide her panties down. She half stood to let him ease them off her hips, then picked up her feet. He pulled her underwear down and off her toes and kneeled there with the silk crumpled in one hand, watching her.
“Lie down,” he said firmly.
She eased down and let the softness of the duvet surround her. She loved being exposed for him, and the electric anticipation as she waited, staring at the white ceiling, listening to the soft drone of the air conditioner, wondering when he would touch her. The silence and stillness were so complete for long seconds that he must be looking her over. At the thought, a new wave of pleasure nearly made her cry out.
There. He was touching her at two small points, his long fingers teasing her open. Those fingers pushed into her again, farther than before. She simultaneously squirmed with discomfort at how far he had invaded her and lifted her hips so he could reach farther inside.
There. Now his mouth was on her, a warm circle that covered her clit and lapped at her.
“Ah.” She felt like saying a lot more, but she just dug her back and elbows into the soft bed and tilted her pelvis up to him.
He began to f**k her with his tongue. She cried out and gripped the duvet in both fists as she felt herself climbing toward orgasm. His tongue was deep inside her. His thumb massaged her clit. Her body jerked upward against him, and she came. A warm shock ran through her, a sensation too good to withstand. His mouth and his hands stayed with her as she gasped and bucked under him for long minutes of bliss. Slowly the waves faded, replaced by an awareness of cool air touching her wetness.
Without warning he scooped her up—his hand covered her bare ass, which was all she had time to note—and set her down at the head of the bed with her back against the pillows. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the other side, facing her.
She reached toward his crotch. He didn’t stop her. Beneath the expensive cloth of his pants, his dick was thick and hard. “Your turn,” she said.
Across the room, his phone rang. They gazed at each other for a few moments, listening to it. She’d heard his normal ringtone before. She knew this was a special ring he’d programmed for an unusually problematic client. She did the same thing on her own phone. She asked, “Who is it?”
“Victor Moore,” he said flatly.
“Better get it. His storybook marriage to Olivia Query may be in trouble.” As soon as the sarcastic words had left her mouth, Wendy was sorry. She wanted to give Daniel a blow job, not drive him away.
He did roll off the bed then, but he didn’t seem offended. He reached for his phone on the desk. “Hello, Victor,” he said. “No, this isn’t a bad time at all.” Looking at Wendy, Daniel shot himself in the head with his finger.
She covered her mouth with her hand so she wouldn’t giggle out loud. All of a sudden she was the floozy mistress in the middle of Daniel’s workday, and he was her extracurricular activity.
She knew their session had to come to an end now so they could follow their clients to rehearsal. But she enjoyed a few more minutes of Daniel’s dark eyes roving up and down her body while he listened to Victor, his white shirt rumpled, his collar askew, his dark hair as wild as she’d ever seen it.