Told You So

The voice over was sultry, a woman's voice accented not unlike Anna Lafleur's voice.

"I love to suck cock. On my knees I'm in control. I have him in my mouth, at my mercy. He thinks it's all about him, that his cock penetrating my mouth is the center, but it's not, he's not. It's all about me."

The owner of the voice came on screen. Lush, curvy, buttoned tight in a prim grey suit, with surprisingly little cleavage showing. She was sexy, but elegant with none of the usual cliched porn affectations. She looks like me, was Nikki's first thought, just like me. Nikki watched her walk through the hallway of a busy office. She seemed intent, sparing only brisk nods to her passing co-workers.

Focused on getting to her work, Nikki thought, just like me.

The voice over continued.

"He thinks he chose me. That he's in control, but he's wrong. I chose him. I decided to take him because I wanted to watch him fall apart. To hear him beg, to feel him lose his precious control, lose it to my mouth. He thinks he's so world wise, that he's got all the answers, but he doesn't. When I have him in my mouth I am the answer. I am the answer to everything."

Her voice faded into the music.

The last line reminded Nikki of Mitchell and she squirmed in her seat. She thought of him losing control, of cracking his composure, losing his world weary smile and making his condescending tone becoming a desperate plea. Nikki watched the woman on the screen take her seat at her desk. Boot up her computer. The voice over continued.

"He thinks it's just sex, but it's not, it's more than that. He's addicted to me. To my mouth, to the heights that I can take him, to the depths that I make him endure. I'm a drug. A drug he craves, that he cannot do without."

Hearing that voice, Nikki couldn't sit still, she was too restless, hyperaware of her body. Her skin felt too tight, she ached. She ached and she didn't know why.

She needed...

She wanted...

She wanted to touch herself. She had to relieve the ache between her legs. The throbbing, building sweet ache that had suddenly become the very center of her body.

"He calls me in, I know his schedule. I make it so I know when he has enough time, but he's never sure. He's never sure if there's enough time, but he wants it too much to ever stop. I keep him on edge, all the time wondering worrying if he has enough time to come, if his next appointment will arrive at any minute. I've done it to him before, brought him to the edge over and over and then stopped at the knock on the door. Left him hard, aching, and desperate to come. When I leave him like that I go back to my desk. While he suffers through the next round of meetings I slip my fingers under my skirt and make myself come. He thinks it's unplanned, that it's all just a passionate affair. He doesn't know how I play him, how much I love playing him."

Nikki watched the woman on screen stand up from her desk, smooth down her skirt and enter his office. The man sat on a couch—dressed in a suit, no jacket, just the business shirt, tie and pants—talking on the phone. A couch like the one in her office. In hers and Mitchell's office. The man nodded at her. A brusque self assured movement. Just like Mitchell. Nikki didn't want to think of Mitchell but she couldn't seem to help it.

The man on the screen motioned to the woman with a lazy sweep of his hand. He waved her to the guest chair at his desk, but she didn't take it, instead she moved in front of him. She sank down on to her knees. Nikki watched him grip the phone tighter, watched his jaw drop in surprise and his knuckles whiten. He shook his head and Nikki saw him mouth the word 'Wait' at the woman, but she didn't wait, she opened his zip and pulled out his penis.

His erection.

The hard flesh that protruded from the open fly made a mockery of his feeble protests. He was hard, he wanted this. He wanted her. Nikki knew it. The woman knew it too, she held the erect shaft and looked up at him and mouthed the word 'Yes."

"I like to take off his pants, but I stay clothed. Sometimes I let him see my breasts, and other times I refuse. I play the innocent. I blush and hold my blouse tight. He likes that—when I play the coquettish school girl. But even when I play the submissive, even when I'm supplicated at the altar of his cock. I am in control. He is naked, He is vulnerable and I am in control."

Nikki watched her intently, just like the man onscreen. Together they watched the woman as she undid her suit jacket and pulled open her blouse. Watched as her breasts spilled out of her bra. Soft, full, pink-tipped mounds. Without conscious thought Nikki's hands made their way to her own chest and she cupped her breasts. Splayed her fingers to hold their full weight. As she watched the bared breasts of the woman on her knees Nikki ran a thumb around the hardened nipple that poked against the crisp fabric of her business shirt. When her thumb grazed the puckered tip the feeling shot through to her very center. She could no longer stand it. Couldn't take the throbbing ache between her legs.

She had to touch herself.

Nikki pulled at her skirt, hitching it up over her thighs until it tucked up in a bunch at her hips. As she watched the woman take that cock in her mouth, red lips descending down the hardened shaft, Nikki snaked a finger under the elastic of her panties. She spread her legs wide and slipped a finger into her wet slit. She found it slippery a little well of warm pooled warm oil, hot and wet, so wet. Never had she been so wet. Eyes stuck on the screen, she nodded her head in time with the mouth that sucked and kept the same rhythm with the finger that slicked against her clit. Pulsing electric waves shot from her core, through her, overtaking, consuming. She bit her lip, lost, lost to the need to come. To come with him. The need to see him come, shoot across the woman's swollen lips like the photo from the website. The voiceover stoked the need, like fuel to a fire. That sultry voice mesmerized, teased, as if a stroke against her heated skin.

"I hear him pant. He pushes, pushes up into my mouth because he cannot sit still. Him who sits above us all is now beneath me. He's in my control. He's nothing but this cock. This shaft of heat that I control. That I possess. Watch him. Watch him as he falls, falls, falls."

Nikki watched. Watched the woman pull back until his cock and her fingers took up the full screen. She watched the hand stroke, spit-wet fingers and glistening cock. The camera panned out wider. He arched, his hips came up off the couch, he grunted. The noise filled the room. Heaving breaths and desperate low moans sounded all around her. Some were his, some were hers. Nikki closed her eyes briefly to focus on the desperate noises. Animal sounds. Out of control.

When she opened her eyes it was to spurting white cum. It jerked out of his red tipped, pulsating cock and onto the woman, onto her mouth, her chin and her breasts. As the cum hit her breasts Nikki came herself. Orgasmed with a never before experienced intensity.

Shocked, she slumped back into the leather chair. Slid back on sweaty thighs. Her hands shook, her fingers dripped wet with the juices of her orgasm. She sat. Chest heaving, mind spinning until she noticed the small round table next to the Wingback chair. It was topped with tissues and hand sanitizer. She blushed, wondering how many others had needed the same conveniences. How many had done as she had in this very chair. She wiped her hands clean with shaking fingers.

Standing up she straightened her skirt. She quickly gave up trying to smooth out the fabric. The gray silk was crumpled as if she'd slept in a dumpster. Beyond repair. After wiping down herself and the chair and disposing of the tissues, Nikki pressed the buzzer for Anna.

After a brief moment the door opened and Anna looked in with a smile, "How was it?" she asked.

"What?"

With one arched eyebrow slightly raised she asked, "The DVD Nikki, how was the DVD?"

"It was..." Nikki didn't know how to answer, what to say to that question so she instead said, "It was very informative."

"I showed you a taster. Just a segment from a DVD called Oral Anthology. I could add the DVD to your order if you think you might need more..." Anna looked up and down Nikki's crumpled suit, tilting her head as she finished her sentence with a pointed drawl, "information."

Nikki felt her face glow red hot, "That would be great."

She couldn't get out of there soon enough.

* * * *

Nikki didn't return to the office until she'd stopped to purchase a new skirt. It didn't exactly match her jacket but at least it was pressed and unstained. She was relieved to find her office empty. No Mitchell. For the first time since she'd worked at Aphrodite Magazine Nikki closed the blinds that faced out to the rest of the open plan office. She didn't want to see out and definitely did not want anyone to see in. She wanted to be alone. Alone with her thoughts—alone with the DVD.

The DVD that she found herself taking out and putting back in Miss Kitty's brown bag over and over. She'd been arguing with herself now for half an hour.

She couldn't watch it at work, could she? Yes she could. It was work, wasn't it?

Work doesn't make you feel like that, her internal devil's advocate chimed in on the argument. So, if she couldn't watch it at work then maybe she should take it home. Take it home now. Work from home. Other people in the office worked from home. If she took it home right now to watch it would be because of work.

Wouldn't it?

No it wouldn't. It would be because she wanted to come again. Come hard watching that mouth descend over and over.

That awful simple truth shocked her and ended the internal argument. She would not go home. She would not watch the DVD at work.

She was still holding the DVD case when she heard it. A banging noise and muffled cursing. Mitchell had obviously not expected the door to be locked and had run into it. Quickly tossing the DVD back in the bag Nikki jumped up.

"Sorry. So sorry," she said as she unlocked the door to a visibly annoyed Mitchell Hayes. He had a hand on his temple, where he'd just hit his head on the locked door.

"Are you hurt?"

"No I'm fine. What were you doing that you needed the door locked?"

Nikki blushed, it burned so hot it felt like it a flash fire consuming her whole body.

"Nothing. Just working...I didn't want to be disturbed."

He looked at her but said nothing, just stared. The intensity of his stare made her feel guilty—as if he knew. But he didn't, he couldn't.

He broke the stare with a little shake of his head and one of his condescending half smiles. "I've got some reading, I'll be on the couch, but don't worry. First I'll lock that door again so your important work won't be interrupted."

His tone made her angry. Why wouldn't she need privacy? Who was he to think that she wasn't working, that her work wasn't as important as his?

He sat down on the couch, knees wide, sprawling across it like he owned the whole damn office. Nikki went back to her desk and opened her research file. Doing so made her realize that he hadn't even asked about her research.

Some mentor.

The longer she sat watching him the more she seethed. The more bothered she became. Each angry thought added tinder to the fire of her growing fury. She wanted to yell, rage at his indifference. Make him notice.

It hit.

Just like that it hit her. How to show him, how to teach him a lesson.

She stood up. Pushed back her chair with a shove. He didn't look up. Why would he? She wasn't important. Not to him. Not to the great Mitchell Hayes. She picked up the brown paper carry bag from Miss Kitty's and carried it over to the couch. She dropped it on the floor just inches from his boots.

Mitchell didn't even look down at the bag. He didn't seem to notice her at all. He was holding up a map, it was dirty and crumpled. Marked with pencil lines and scrawled notes. She stood in front of him, waiting, waiting for him to notice her. When he finally did he didn't speak, didn't ask what she wanted instead he just raised a mocking eyebrow.

She dropped to her knees. He frowned, tilted his head. He wore khakis and a worn brown leather belt. The belt opened easily as did the fly of his pants. White boxer briefs were under the open khakis, under the snug fabric she saw the outline of his penis. She traced it first with a finger, running the tip along the soft length of him. She heard him gasp, but still he said nothing. She'd shocked him into silence. With two hands she wrenched at the sides of his khakis, pulling both the pants and the briefs down to his knees. One by one she removed his boots and socks and tossed them away from the couch. The pants were gone next; when he was bare assed she looked up at him and issued her first order, "Take off your shirt."

He pulled the blue polo up over his head and threw it so that it landed on top of his boots. Now he was naked. Naked and vulnerable while she was still clothed. Clothed and in total control.

His dick had hardened now, lengthened and stiffened until it poked up, butting against the golden hair of his stomach. Nikki came forward on her knees, closer until she nestled between his thighs. With her eyes on his face she reached out and took hold of his erection and slowly, slowly brought her lips down to kiss the tip. He shuddered. Shuddered at her touch. A bolt of triumph surged through her, a fiery flicker that came to rest and throb at her wet center.

With her tongue she rimmed the fleshy helmet, around and around she swirled as he arched his hips. He wanted more, but he couldn't have it, couldn't force it because this was her show. She was in control. She was in charge of his erection, of his orgasm, of his pleasure.

It was all hers.

Nikki flicked her tongue along the salty droplets that formed on the slit. He groaned, so she did it again, this time pushing the tip of her tongue as if she could force herself inside that little opening. He cursed and when he squirmed away she grabbed his hips and held fast and sucked him into her mouth.

"Nikki,oh yeah, Nikki," he hissed her name and she loved it. There was no tone now. No condescension. Just desperation.

Down, down her wet sucking lips descended. She took him deep, as deep as her mouth would allow. He was squirming, arching up and moaning her name but she wanted more. She wanted his total submission, she wanted to take him. Own him.

While she sucked she reached Miss Kitty's bag and found what she needed. Nikki placed the item on the floor near her knees.

The tube was easily opened with a flick of her fingers. While he writhed beneath her mouth she coated the fingers of her right hand in strawberry daiquiri lube. She slicked his cock and balls with the slippery substance from tip to end. As she massaged the sweet flavor across his taut skin he moaned, gasping when she coated his balls slipping her palm over the sensitive skin and her fingers behind to push between his ass. Not giving him any time to protest she slicked a slippery fingertip into his tight asshole, breaching the ring of muscle. He jumped at the intrusion, forcing his cock deeper into her mouth. She pushed one finger deep and when she heard him groan and the tight nether mouth relax she added another. Two fingers slipped easily into his asshole. The greedy little mouth sucked them in, as if asking for more. He spread his legs wider and shifted forward on the couch unconsciously allowing her more access. He was tight, so tight and she wondered whether he'd ever done this before. The idea that she was the first turned her on and she felt a surge of heat settle between her legs.

She wanted to know. Needed to know.

Pulling her mouth back from his cock she looked up and asked, "Do you like this?" while pushing her fingers deeper into his ass.

"Oh god, yes! Yes. Yeeees," he moaned.

"Have you done this before?"

He shook his head. He seemed unable to speak

Pleased she curled her finger and found what she sought. He stiffened and cried out as she pushed in little circles against the walnut of his prostate. The research she'd done yesterday appeared to be right, pre-cum flowed from the tip of his cock and Mitchell moaned as though he had found sexual nirvana.

Nikki watched in fascination as his cock jerked and flowed. She licked the tip clean and still more appeared. It seemed endless.

"Oh please. Please Nikki."

She flicked her eyes away from his flowing cock and up to Mitchell's face. It was red and his eyes were pinched as if he was in unbearable pain. His hair was wet with sweat as was his face. He was completely out of control. Sweaty, writhing, begging, she loved it.

"Please what Mitchell?" Nikki asked while flicking out her tongue to again tease the head of his cock.

"Please, please let me come. Nikki... need to come...need to..."

Because she wanted to—not because asked—Nikki lowered her head and took him deep into her sucking mouth. Rhythmically spearing her fingers into his ass, she continued to suck his cock. He groaned. Grunted like an animal. Like the man in the DVD. He jerked his hips and cried out like a wounded beast. She felt him pulse in her mouth and around her fingers as he came. The moment his cum hit her tongue she regretted not unbuttoning her blouse. She would have liked to feel the hot spray on her breasts.

Next time, she thought to herself as she licked the pulsing head of his cock clean, I'll do it next time.

* * * *

Mitchell was now dressed and sitting at his desk but he still felt stripped. The room smelled like strawberries and sex. He was alone. Nikki had gone, not long after she'd emptied his balls. The woman had drained him. Shit, his legs barely worked. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get to the elevator unaided. After sucking him dry she'd just up and left. Left him naked and spent on the couch.

She'd said not a word.

Not a goddamn word. Just a little smile that said it all. She'd owned him. Totally owned him. It was the best damn sex of his life and he hadn't even seen her tits, let alone touched her pussy. Little Ice Queen Nikki Fletcher had turned out to be a big surprise—well to him anyway.

With that thought he punched a number on his speed dial. She answered the phone in one short ring—no doubt she'd seen the caller ID and couldn't wait to gloat. "I only take cash," she answered the phone, her tone tinged with victory, "no credit for the likes of you."

"I know."

"I don't know why you ever bet against me Hayes. You always lose."

It was true. Every single time he'd bet against Anna LaFleur he'd lost. But he was so sure that he couldn't lose when she'd bet him at lunch that Nikki Fletcher would give him the best blow job of his life. He'd laid down $200, hoping to recoup some of the losses from his last poker night with Anna.

$200. This time the idea of handing over the money didn't feel like losing.

"She took you on the couch?"

"Did everything you said." And more, he thought, but he wasn't about to share that.

Damn, how good had that been?

"Best in your life?"

"Yep, best blow job ever."

"Told you so."

---------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed Anna, Mitchell and Nikki. This is part of a 'Wanna Bet' series all about paying naughty forfeits. Check out 'Painted into a Corner' and 'You Bet Your Ass!' if you're interested in reading more.

Big thanks to Gatorhermit for once again giving me an insight into the male perspective and of course my Mistress Red Pen for her grammar discipline.