The crowd inside is even bigger than before, but with Kirk leading the way, moving through it seems a lot more manageable. As he guides me down a packed hallway, there’s something about him that makes people instinctively make way for him to pass.

He would be an awesome date to concerts, I realize. And food festivals. And parades.

But right now, it’s hard to get my brain to focus on anything but the feel of his hand around mine, squeezing it tight.

Well…that, and what he has in store for me when he gets me to his bedroom.

“Don’t look so nervous.” He smiles over his shoulder, and I feel my mouth go dry. “I’m trying to calm your nerves, remember? Not get you all worked up all over again.”

“There are just…a lot of people here, I guess.” I try to smile back, but it feels forced.

“Then let’s get a little privacy.”

We come to a stop outside of a set of massive double doors.

Uh-huh. Some cottage, WineBar.

Kirk lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses them, hard. His eyes look hungry, and not for barbeque either.

His breath is on my fingertips, hot and humid. It makes me think of the other places I’d like to feel his breath…

Shit. I’ve been played! This whole calming me down thing is just a pretext. He wants this just as much as I need it.

Now I’m nervous and horny. It’s a disastrous combination, if I’ve ever heard of one. Judging by the look in Kirk’s eyes, I can tell he’s going to take advantage of it too.

“My lady,” he says in that suave, cocky voice that makes my stomach do backflips. “Our humble chamber awaits.”

Kirk throws open the doors to the master bedroom dramatically.

Oh god.

Whatever I expected to see inside Kirk’s bedroom, it definitely wasn’t this.

A flash of white-hot jealousy courses through my entire body as I get a full view of not one, not two, but three women in Kirk’s king-sized bed. They’re all wearing lingerie—barely—and as I catch a glimpse of chestnut hair, I realize I’ve seen these three before.

Grill bimbos. The slinky little black dress on the floor confirms it—these are the girls who were chatting Kirk up when I first arrived. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, seeing them schmoozing it up with him had bothered me then.

Now they’re in his bed. Which is like, approximately five billion times worse.

I look up at Kirk, ready to bail. Yeah, WineBar. Let’s see you explain this one, huh?

To my amazement, he’s blushing. Like, actual, honest-to-god, pink-around-the-ears blushing.

It’s pretty cute, admittedly. So is the way he raises his hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. When he catches me staring at him, he slowly presses his index finger to his lips in pantomime: Shhhhh.

And that’s when I realize.

The girls in Kirk’s bed aren’t waiting for Kirk.

The girls in Kirk’s bed are so busy attending to…ahem…one another that they haven’t even noticed that we’re here. The redhead and the brunette are locked in what looks like an impassioned tongue fight while the third girl is struggling to unclasp her bra, waiting for the right moment to dive in.

Looks like they found something else to do after all.

“Oh,” I say softly.

“Yeaaaaah.” Kirk closes the doors to his master suite gently so we don’t disturb the trio inside.

Once they’re closed, we both have to laugh.

“They said they were girlfriends,” Kirk says, pulling me to him as we both shake with laughter. “I didn’t think they meant like that.”

“Yeah, I think they’ve clarified their relationship pretty well now.”

I giggle as Kirk hugs me to his chest. He kisses the top of my head while I breathe him in. He smells incredible, like light cologne and barbeque smoke and manliness.

Whatever nervousness I was feeling before is gone. I must have left it back in Kirk’s bedroom to watch the lesbian three-way.

For the sake of inner erotica author, I hope it’s taking notes.

Because now, I’m wet, I’m ready, and I’m in the arms of the most gorgeous man in a twelve-block radius. No, I take that back. In the whole fucking Bay Area.

I need to be fucked. Like, immediately. Urgently. 911, orgasm emergency. Code red! Code red!

“Come on,” Kirk says.

From the way he’s pulling me back down the stairs, I know he must feel the same way.

He guides me to a less traveled part of his house this time. As the party guests thin, my anticipation only gets thicker. Kirk is making long, deliberate strides like a man on a mission.

I have to trot along behind him in my heels to keep up. But the whole time, I’m absolutely fucking giddy.

I am that mission.

I don’t know what Kirk has in store for me, but I know that I want it.

We make it through a doorway. Barely. If there are lesbians getting it on in this room too, we don’t even look to check.

Kirk slams the door behind us, and suddenly, my back is against it. His body leans on mine—hard, toned, and utterly gorgeous—and he claims my mouth with a kiss before I can even manage an appropriately breathy gasp of wantonness.

One of his hands is in my hair, capturing my long locks in his forceful clutches.

With his free hand, he locks the door.

Kirk kisses me like a man starved. His tongue pushes its way between my lips, hot and slick, and I moan as I taste him.

Fuck. I’ve never been so addicted to the way a man tastes before, but Kirk? He makes chocolate truffles and gourmet coffee seem like gas station snacks by comparison.

We tangle our tongues together in desperation, and I can feel my wanting turning into something else: need.

There’s a delicious warmness radiating from my panties all the way up to the butterflies in my stomach. Every cell in my body feels like it’s vibrating. Beneath my sundress, even my nipples are hard.

Just from a kiss.

Oh my god.

If this man doesn’t touch me soon, I’m going to—I don’t know what I’m going to do. Scream, maybe. Then everyone in Kirk’s gorgeous home will know what he’s doing to me, and it would serve him right too.

More likely, I’ll just have to shove him against the opposite wall and show him how it feels.

As if he’s reading my mind, Kirk’s hands drop to my ass. After an obligatory squeeze, he’s lifting me up. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist.

“Fuck. I always forget how strong you are,” I gasp in between kisses.

Kirk laughs, pressing his lips against mine.

“Then I’ll have to keep reminding you.”

“Anytime, handsome.”

Honestly, I’m eager for further proof. I can feel the massive bulge in his jeans pressed between my legs now, and I’m so wet for him that if we don’t start removing clothes soon, my panties are going to be soaked right through.

Sundresses have their advantages, after all—even the painfully conservative ones. If Kirk would just get that sexy cock of his out, all he would have to do is push aside my panties and force that gorgeous piece of man meat between my pussy lips.

But Kirk obviously has other plans. He turns sharply, and my skirt billows out around my waist. When he sits me down, I shiver.

Beneath my ass is a cool marble countertop. And since we haven’t bothered to turn the lights on yet, it takes me a second to figure out where we are.

“Babe.”

“Yes, babe?”

“You’re not fucking me in a bathroom.”

“Oh, no?” From the sound of amusement in Kirk’s voice, it’s apparent that fucking me in a bathroom is exactly what he intends to do. “Why not?”

He has one hand on my knee that’s tantalizingly threatening to rise up to stroke my inner thigh. With his free hand, he’s fumbling with something on the countertop—a candle, I realize. It fills the room with the scent of vanilla and a moody golden glow.

“I’m too classy for this,” I protest. Though, with the way his hand is creeping up my thigh to the wet, throbbing place between my legs, as far as protests go, it’s half-hearted at best.

“No,” he growls. “I don’t think you are.”

He gets on his knees. I give him a warning look. His fingers hook around the crotch of my panties, brushing against my pussy lips.

I moan.

“Are you, Em?”

I bite my lip.

“You’re wet. I can smell it.”

I furrow my brow, torn between how bad I want to hump his gorgeous face right now and some half-assed sense of standards that I just made up.

“Ugh. You’re right,” I relent with a sigh. “I’m so totally not.”

“Thought so,” he says with a wolfish grin.

He pulls my panties off me like they’re going out of style.

Kirk’s mouth is a dream as he kisses his way up one thigh. It’s good, but too slow.

I’ve been wet for him since the moment I first saw him today. Maybe even before then.

We’re way past the point where I can settle for taking things slow.

I grab his head and pull it toward my needy cunt. Generously, he lets me.

Kirk knows exactly how to treat a soaked pussy. He makes out with my lower lips just like he makes out with my mouth. Better, even, because before I know it, I’m moaning for him on the verge of my first orgasm.

Knowing Kirk, it won’t be the last.

But just as I’m about to cum against his tongue, I hear it. So does he.

Voices. Right outside the door.

“No fucking way,” a female voice intones. “You’re making it up.”

“I’m not!” a male voice insists. “You can’t make shit like this up, Belle.”

“Okay. Okaaaaaay. But…really? With a cucumber? Blake, you’re shitting me.”

“Right there in his office,” Blake confirms. “Swear to god.”

I feel Kirk snicker against my thigh, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin there to stifle his own laughter.

Then, to my disbelief, I’m forced to shoot him a look of betrayal as he gets back to work.

“You’re going to have to walk me through this, hun,” Belle says from outside.

Between my legs, Kirk sucks my throbbing clit into his mouth and traps it there between his teeth.

“Gladly. So it’s her first day of work. New secretary, right? And she’s wearing the tightest, shortest little skirt you wouldn’t believe…”

Kirk lashes out at my swollen clit with his tongue, and I gasp. Loud.

Did they hear me? Oh god, they had to have heard…

“And of course, Mr. Warren calls her into his office, the old perv.”

“Hey, some girls like older men. I heard Beth from sales call Warren a silver fox the other day—but yeah, you’re right. He totally calls her in.”

With anyone else, I wouldn’t have minded. Hell, I love having smug, noisy sex where other people can know how good I’m getting it. But this is Kirk, for fuck’s sake.

At Kirk’s own barbeque. In Kirk’s own house, full of his family and friends. In a fucking bathroom like a couple of horny teenagers.

He licks my clit again, and I moan deeply. Even louder. I don’t mean to, but god, Kirk really knows what he’s doing, and my pussy loves it.

It feels so fucking good!

“So he gets her into his office and he—what? Drops a pen or something?”

“Even better. Knocks over a jar of paper clips. So this poor secretary is left crawling around on her hands and knees in her short little skirt, picking them all up one by one…”

Kirk growls softly against my pussy lips, and I shiver with pleasure. He’s so fucking sexy when he’s like this—growling and licking me like an animal.

Even worse, he knows I’m always a slut for a good story. And this one? It’s actually fucking turning me on even more.

“And then naturally, Warren feels the need to help her out.”

“Yeah, by casually pointing out that it might be easier to do her job for the day if she’s not wearing such slutty underwear.”

“Lace?”

“No, even better. A bright-red thong.”

“And she actually takes it off for him?”

“Must be some kind of people pleaser, right? She slips it off beneath her skirt and hands it to him, just like that.”

Kirk’s tongue is working magic. No, better than magic. Magic mixed with birthday cake mixed with absolute sin.

I don’t know if it’s the story, or the threat of getting caught, or if Kirk is just that good at going down, but whatever it is, I’m whimpering.

So far, I’ve mostly stayed quiet. But Kirk is driving me directly to O-Town, and he’s going way over the speed limit.

My pussy is throbbing in time with every lick, and my head is so full of sex imagery that I’m about to explode.

“And she just crawls around the office like that. Pantyless. In a short little skirt.”

“I couldn’t believe it either. Without her panties on, you could see everything too. So pretty soon, Warren tells her that he can see her getting wet. Wants to know why that might be.”

My chest is heaving, and my knees are shaking. Kirk’s fingers dig into the meat of my ass cheeks, and his mouth shows me no mercy.

I’m going to cum. Literally, at any second, Kirk is going to give me one of the hardest orgasms of my life.

And when he does, I’m going to scream.

“So what does she tell him?”

“She doesn’t know. So he tells her to come over to him, bend over, and spread herself for him, so he can—”

My whole body spasms. My pussy erupts in pleasure. I’m orgasming against Kirk’s long, wet tongue, and my mouth opens up to—

Oh my god, I’m actually going to scream. There are people right outside the door, and Kirk is literally going to make me scream.

But either Kirk thinks faster than I’ve ever given him credit for, or he’s had a contingency plan for this all along. Just as the scream threatens to leave my throat, I feel him shove something between my parted lips and onto my tongue.

He puts his hand over my mouth, just in case, and the scream is muffled by something... lacy.

Oh my god.

He’s gagged me with my own panties.

As the orgasm subsides into afterglow, Kirk smirks up at me. When he gets to his feet, his hands are already on his belt, undoing the buckle.

“Thought you might need that,” he whispers in my ear.

Honestly, I needed it like a skinny girl needs a cheeseburger, but I can’t tell him that, since, y’know. I’m still effectively gagged.

“God, Emily…here I am, alone with a beautiful woman, in a dark room with a locked door…”

The belt clanks against his thigh, defeated. Now his hands are on his zipper. Even in the low light, I can see how hard he is.

And he’s huge when he’s hard. Big enough that you start to understand why he’s so damn cocky all the time.

“Where no one can hear you scream,” he practically purrs at me, and damn.

Even when he’s being corny and ridiculous, I’m into it. He’s already given me one orgasm, and I’m already dying for another.

There are still people outside the door. I can hear their voices. I know they’re there. But as Kirk works his cock out of his pants and strokes it in his fist, I can’t seem to understand what they’re saying.

Fuck. He’s so sexy, he’s made me forget English.

Kirk teases me with the head of his cock, running it up and down my soaked little slit like he thinks he’s going to torture me with it.

But as desperate for another orgasm as I am, he still hasn’t had his first yet. I know it has to be so much worse for him. If he thinks he can tease me, two can play at that game.

“You fucking want it, don’t you?” he growls.

I buck my hips against his and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. He’s so big that to tease me with just the tip, he has to resign to keeping his distance.

With a shift of my body, I rectify this. My legs wrap around his hips, locking him in.

Now I can grind my clit against his shaft, coating him in my honey while the rest of his cock rubs against my smooth stomach beneath the skirt of my sundress.

“God, Em,” he moans, low and quiet. “That’s so fucking good…”

You fucking want it, don’t you? I want to ask him, but I’m still gagged…and I like that.

Instead, I start to move my hips, nice and slow, so I’m jerking him off with my pussy lips, getting him nice and wet and worked up.

“Fuck. Let’s get this dress off you. Before I get pre-cum on it.”

He holds me close while he works the zipper down. In one fluid motion, he gets it off over my head. Now I’m sitting on his bathroom counter in just a bra, with my panties stuffed in my mouth and his cock between my legs.

I realize how this must look: slutty, nasty, and sooooo fucking hot.

But in my moment of vanity, Kirk manages to regain the upper hand. He grabs his cock, pulls back, and pushes it inside me so fast I don’t even have a chance to mourn the loss of opportunity to tease him a little longer.

And once he’s inside me, teasing him is the last thing on my mind.

Something clicks. The way our bodies work together is unreal. Separately, we’re two first-rate fucks.

If there was such a thing as sexual SATs, we would both score perfect 800s.

So what happens when a total vixen makes it with an absolute stud?

Fireworks. Fucking fireworks.

It’s not him fucking me. It’s not me fucking him. We’re moving together in perfect harmony for pleasure, hard and fast with a raw intensity that’s stronger than anything I’ve ever known.

Every time his cock thrusts deeper into me, pangs of pleasure jolt through my body like lightning. Every time he withdraws, I whimper, pull him closer, and whine for more.

When he’s not all the way inside me, as deep as my tight little hole can take him, my very soul feels empty. But when he’s giving it to me, edging deeper and deeper until I’m taking all twelve inches of his big, fat cock, it’s like suddenly, I’m whole again.

Fuck whatever sense of independence I have when we both have our clothes on. Screw taking things slow.

He’s inside me, and I’m wrapped around him. Right now, we’re hot and young, and we belong to each other.

Whatever happens for the rest of the night—for right now—he’s mine, and I’m his. That’s all that matters.

He yanks my bra straps down off my shoulders. His fingers wrestle with the clasp for a second, then it pops open, and my tits are free for the taking. I only let go of him for long enough to disentangle the bra from my arms.

Once I’ve abandoned it, his shirt is the next thing to go. Now our bodies are together the way they need to be—no barriers, no walls, just skin against skin. His lips are on mine, and I never want to stop kissing him.

When he does pull his mouth away, I remember the panties in my mouth. He hilts himself in me, and I have to bite down on the lace to keep from crying out in orgasm.

Poor Kirk doesn’t even have the benefit of a gag.

“Em,” he moans into my neck. “Fuck, Em. You’re so fucking tight. You’re so wet. God—”

He pulls back as I pant, riding out wave after wave of pleasure, and he looks at me like he really does own me.

“You’re beautiful,” he says in this hallowed tone. Like I’m holy.

I like that. I like that a whole fucking lot.

When he embraces me again, it’s to lift me up in his arms. Now the pace is his to set. He’s lifting me and lowering me on his fucking weapon of a cock, and I’m clenched around him, squeezing his man meat like my life depends on it.

He spins us, and now my back’s against the wall—both literally and figuratively, because now I have no leverage and no control over my own orgasms.

He has me pinned with the weight of his body, and all I can do is work my hips in little circles, desperately giving him all I’ve got. His cock slides against my G-spot over and over until I’m so wracked with pleasure that I’m dizzy from it.

My back arches, thrusting my big, heavy tits outward. Before I know it, he’s taking my nipples into his mouth, first one, then the other. Left. Right. Left.

My nipples are so hard for him and so sensitive from orgasm that when he sucks on them, I start to moan like a woman possessed. Not even my lace panties can stifle the sound of a woman being fucked so well by such a perfect man. At this point, if I’m being too loud, I don’t even care.

Let them listen. Let them hear. Every person at the party outside could have their ears pressed against the door right now, and I couldn’t have fewer fucks to give.

I’m giving all my fucks to Kirk. Every last one of them.

“Where do you want my cum, Em?” Kirk growls against my breasts.

Even just being asked that…it’s mind-shattering. He could cum in my ear right now and I’d be into it.

But I’m gagged. He’s gagged me. I can’t answer, and he knows it.

Even now, he has the energy to be an insufferable tease. Un-fucking-believable.

“How about I come…here?” He’s settled into a rhythm now, and I know he must be close. “Should I cum in this sweet little cunt of yours, Em? Is that where you want it?”

YES, I want to scream. I WANT YOUR CUM IN MY PUSSY, KIRK! I want it dripping out of me! Fill me up! Give it to me!

But I can’t.

“Or should I come in your tight little ass, Em? Is that where gorgeous little sluts like you like it?”

YES, I want to scream. COME IN MY ASS, KIRK! I’m a dirty little whore for you, Daddy—I want it, I want it, I want it!

“Or,” Kirk growls, panting. He’s close, so close I can feel it, I need it. “Should I pull out and blow my load all over you? All over your big, perky tits and your pretty little face so I can parade you around the party like that afterward. Is that what you want, babe? You want everyone to know what a whore you are for me?”

I’m struggling to string thoughts together. I’m struggling to fucking see straight. Because right now, the answer to that—to any of it—is a big, resounding YES! YES! YES!

Where do I want Kirk’s cum?

Everywhere.

We go wild. He’s biting my neck, and my fingernails are digging into his back. Our bodies are trapped against each other’s, thrusting and moaning and moving together with a unified need.

The orgasm hits me first. They’ve been piling up, building on each other, every one of them stronger and more intense than the last until my soaked pussy is practically milking him of his cum, and he can’t control it any longer.

“Oh god,” he breathes against me.

Then I feel it. Not just the hot, sticky ropes of cum that he covers my insides with, but the way his cock pumps it into me too. I’m in Kirk’s arms, being filled up with his cum while god only knows how many people are outside listening.

It’s fucking awesome. I feel fantastic, and Kirk’s body feels amazing against mine. I guess I just hope they enjoyed our little show.

“Wow,” I say when Kirk finally plucks my panties out of my mouth. “That was…pretty okay.”

I smile up at him. Talk about understatement of the year. It was a lot more than just pretty okay, and we both know it.

He’s still inside me, and now that we’re not thrusting and grinding, I can feel my pussy still clenching around him every so often, squeezing out every last drop of his cum.

Kirk doesn’t seem to be quite as amused.

“Just okay, huh?” he asks, punctuating the question with a thrust.

I go sex-blind for a second as an unexpected burst of pleasure courses through my nervous system.

“I thought you were a modest guy, Kirk,” I say, blinking dreamily as I stare up at his disgustingly handsome face.

“Modesty has no place in the bedroom, Em.”

“Good thing we’re in the bathroom then, huh?”

A dark look passes over Kirk’s face, and that’s when it hits me.

Oh god.

He’s still hard.

“Let’s see if we can’t change your tune,” Kirk says.

His palm lands on my ass cheek before I have time to wonder what that might be. I’m still processing the way that delicious little burst of pain makes me feel (Oh yeah, I’m still in slut mode, for sure. But when am I not around this man?) when Kirk lifts me up off his cock and places me on the hardwood floor on my knees.

Now that big, fat, rock-hard cock that I’ve been so gaga over is right there in my face, level with my mouth. All twelve inches of my favorite piece of man meat is covered with this gorgeous mixture of his cum and my cream to the point where it’s practically dripping off him.

Instinctively, I stick out my tongue to lick it. I want to taste him, taste myself, taste us.

But before I can, Kirk grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me back, leaving my tongue outstretched and wanting—a tantalizing fraction of an inch away from the dick I want to lick like an ice cream cone.

“Don’t be cruel,” I say, staring up at him and batting my long, thick eyelashes in a way that he can’t refuse. “Gimme.”

“Spit on it, Em.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “And what if I don’t?”

“Then you don’t get your reward.”

I consider it for a second. Historically speaking, Kirk rewards are the kind of rewards I’d do just about anything for.

I give him my best bedroom eyes, I pucker my lips, and I spit on his cock.

“Again.”

I obey him. Partly because I want to see where this is going. Partly because as it turns out, I really like the way his dick looks when it’s all wet and sexy and dripping like this.

“Good girl.”

He strokes my hair and I preen.

“Reward now, please, Daddy,” I say, remembering how he likes it when I call him that.

He smirks.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

Kirk pulls me up and turns me over so fast it makes my head spin. Before I know it, I’m bent over the bathroom counter. I can feel where I was sitting when he made me cum for him earlier, because the counter is still slick with my honey. He presses me into the wet spot, like he’s mopping it up with my tits.

He spanks me again. This time, there’s nothing to stop me from moaning. When I do, the sound of my own arousal makes my pussy absolutely purr.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass now, babe,” Kirk says.

I can see him in the mirror now, washboard abs and all. His reflection is smiling down at me. I smile back at it as he spreads my ass cheeks wide open for him.

“And you’re gonna watch yourself while I do it.”

His cock presses against the tight pucker of my asshole. He levels it there with one hand. With the other, he gathers up a handful of my hair and pulls on it until I’m staring my own reflection down in the mirror.

The look on my face is an expression of pure, unbridled ecstasy as his big, hard rod forces its way in.

I think everybody secretly wonders what their face looks like when they orgasm. Most of us probably never want to find out. I’ve seen some pretty ridiculous O-faces in my day, after all.

For some people, it’s a Pandora’s box better left unopened.

As Kirk reaches around my waist and between my legs, I realize we’re about to open it whether we want to or not.

Luckily, I’m not about to do it alone. I can see Kirk there behind me, thrusting in and out of my ass in a hard, slow fuck while he traps my clit between his fingers and strokes it like he means business.

“Thats right, baby,” he says, his lip curling with pleasure. “We look good together. Now cum for me.”

His hand releases my hair and strokes down my spine. Then it wraps around my body. His fingers glaze over my rib cage, and I arch my back for him, bouncing my ass against his cock.

I am going to orgasm for him. I’m already so close. Any minute now—any second—and he’s going to blow my mind once again.

“Fuck yes, Em! Give it to me!” he howls.

“Oh my god! Kirk! Fuck! Fuck yes!”

He picks me up, one arm just under my tits, the other strumming my clit like there’s no tomorrow, and it hits us both at once.

BAM. Christmas morning. Chocolate cheesecake. Cherry bombs.

“Fuck!” We sigh simultaneously.

There in the mirror, we’re pure sex. Chests heaving. Hair a mess. My nipples dark and hard. His broad shoulders. Our skin, glowing in the candlelight.

It’s then that I hear them, so far down the hall I can only just barely make out the words:

“And so that’s how the new secretary ended up bent over the boss’ desk in front of the entire office with a cucumber in her ass.”

“That’s so fucking wild! I guess you never really know what’s going on behind closed doors, huh?”