Thomas

 

I loved it when negotiations took their time. Transferring a sum of money on a couple’s split-second decision and taking my fill of the wife’s pussy just a few minutes later was one thing. Discussing the intimate conditions of the proposal in the hard light of day and drawing out the suspense for days on end was quite another.

I was very much looking forward to it as I made my way down to breakfast. I’d held back as long as possible after my short, sharp power nap, taking my time to shower and dress in another finely presentable outfit, suited and booted in a freshly pressed shirt and fine cashmere sweater under a pale grey day jacket. I made sure my hair was groomed to perfection, my glasses crystal clear and positioned just so before I took the stairs down to the Foster’s breakfast room.

An elderly couple were finishing up their poached eggs as I picked up a broadsheet newspaper from the rack at the front and took a seat by the window. I barely acknowledged Grace’s presence as she loaded her arms with empty plates from a vacated table near the condiments bar. It took her a few moments to notice me sitting there. When she did, she contained her reaction well. Her back straightened just a little as she balanced the stack of plates on her forearm, her throat bobbing just a touch from a nervous swallow. She tipped her head in acknowledgement, caring little to offer the beaming hostess smile she flashed at the other guests on her way back through to the kitchen.

I scoured the stock listings in the back of the newspaper, happy to observe that one of my recent well-tipped acquisitions had already made me back the cash I’d be spending on Grace’s sweet pussy with some to spare.

Getting to this level of self-generating wealth had been a long, hard battle, but the rewards were well worth the exertion. I loved money nearly as much as I loved the power it granted me. The man it made me in the eyes of outsiders looking on. The freedom it offered me to do whatever the hell I wanted in this world.

And yet it meant so much more still to the boy who’d gone without for all those years. I still felt him deep inside sometimes during long quiet nights, remembering so vividly what it felt like to be an invisible nobody with chilled toes where the rain came through my tattered school shoes. During dark moments at far reaches of the globe, sometimes I even heard my sad, lonely tears, echoing from those times gone.

But not today.

She avoided my eyes as she approached with her notepad, making sure to stand at a healthy distance with the bulk of the table between us as she tipped her head for my order.

I said nothing, keeping my attention firmly on my newspaper until she was forced to speak aloud. Her voice was edged with the nerves she’d been trying so hard to hide.

“What can I get you?”

I folded the pages of the broadsheet closed and placed it neatly on the table top before answering.

“Coffee, black. Full English. Toast, not fried bread.”

She pinned her tongue between her teeth as she scribbled. My dick twitched at the thought of pinning it between mine.

“Help yourself to cereals from the front. Yoghurt, too.”

I didn’t hold back my stare, letting it eat her up until her pale cheeks flushed with a tell-tale bloom. She’d brushed up well on no sleep. A tight white camisole under an open floral blouse showed the swell of her tits nicely without being obvious. She was still scribbling away on the notepad as she cleared her throat.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” she said softly.

“Breakfast ends at ten today, no?”

I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her back. Two minutes still remained until the serving deadline.

“No, it’s not that. You’re in time, I just thought…”

I shifted in my seat before answering her unspoken question.

“I haven’t changed my mind. I’m more than ready to negotiate the fine print when I’m done with my breakfast.”

I wasn’t sure if her short exhale of breath was relief or apprehension, it could have swung either way.

I smirked up at her before she retreated. “Please ensure your husband doesn’t spit in my breakfast, or worse. Believe me, I’ll notice. I have a fine palate.”

Her glare was like fire. “We’re professional here. Your food will be exactly as it should be.”

I picked the newspaper back up and opened it at a random page. “Good. I hate it when my eggs are overdone, please ensure they’re not.”

I watched her from the corner of my eye as she headed for the kitchen. She only looked back once over her shoulder before pushing her way through the door and out of sight.

The other guests had disappeared during our exchange. The room was just me and the rumble of the fridge under the condiments bar. I took a deep breath and turned my attention to the view out front.

It really was a beautiful spot, and it was easy to see why they were so attached to it. Gulls circled over dull blue waves, muted by the cloudy sky overhead. The sea was at high tide, swallowing up the sand with foamy jaws and spitting out straggles of seaweed amongst the dunes.

Staying on an extra few days really wouldn’t be a hardship.

I was watching a gull hop along the iron railings I’d conversed with Grace at when she landed my coffee down with a clank. It looked an adequate beverage, but far from quality. I had to fight the urge to tell her cheap sachets were beneath this establishment as I tossed the cruddy little packets of sugar to the side.

“Food will be up soon,” she told me, and I offered a curt nod.

The bird had flown away by the time I looked back. Grace’s presence stayed firm at my side. I wondered if she was quietly surveying the sea or the stranger she’d soon be spreading her legs for.

“I haven’t told my husband about last night,” she whispered, and the confession amused me so much I spun hard in my seat to face her.

“You make it sound as though there was something to tell.” My laugh was low. “Believe me, last night was far from eventful in light of what is to come, but if it makes you rest any easier I won’t bring it up if you don’t.” I leaned into her a little. She smelled of orchids with a hint of blackcurrant. “It can be our little secret.” I raised a finger to my lips.

I loved how her teeth gritted in response. “We don’t have any little secrets,” she hissed. “I just don’t want him to think I had trouble sleeping. He’ll worry.”

“I kept you awake, did I, sweetheart?” I couldn’t hold back the grin.

She leaned down until her mouth was level with mine, close enough that her breath tickled my lips. Her eyes were fierce and fiery, tightening my balls deliciously. “I’m not your sweetheart,” she told me. “And I have plenty of things to keep me awake at night. You’ll be a distant memory this time next week.”

I held her stare with a fire of my own. “So why is your sweet little cunt already wet for me?”

The flash of whites around those pretty irises told me more than words ever could.

“While we’re talking of secrets,” I continued, “if you have any special requests you’d like to share out of earshot of your husband, now would be a good time.”

“I have no special requests,” she claimed. “This is all about the money, don’t flatter yourself for a single heartbeat by thinking it’s not.”

I folded my arms. “Your customer service is very poor. No wonder your bookings are low.”

She stayed in position, folded at the waist in such close proximity I could feel the heat from her. “With all due respect, sir, not many of our customers tell me my sweet little cunt is wet for them over Sunday breakfast.”

“Not many customers would be telling the truth.”

“What makes you think you are?” she challenged and I broke the standoff with a smile.

“Only one way to settle the dispute.”

“Put that cash into our bank account and I’ll settle whatever dispute you want,” she said. “Until then, my sweet little cunt is none of your business.”

She picked up the discarded sachets as she left me to my coffee, swaying her hips angrily with every step.

I loved a girl with flames in her belly. Breaking them apart in the bedroom was all the more satisfying when they spat and sparkled.

She didn’t say another word when she returned with my breakfast. I offered her nothing in return other than a thanks and a nod as I got stuck into a hearty meal. It was a decent tick in the service box, considerably more impressive than their barely passable coffee. The eggs were cooked just fine and the toast was nicely golden, not burned.

It was Brett who came for my empty plate just as soon as I’d patted my lips with a napkin, scooping up my leftovers with his trademark pitted brow.

“We need to talk,” he said, and I flashed him a smile before tossing my napkin atop the plate he carried.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” I responded, glancing beyond him to where his wife hovered by the doorway.

He whispered something in her ear as he passed her on the way back to the kitchen, and she slipped into the seat opposite me without meeting my eyes.

We waited in silence, her eyes on the horizon and my eyes on her. I wondered what she’d been thinking, in those dark recesses of her mind that twirled with fantasies of the unknown. I wondered if she’d already been pinning her deepest fantasies on the shadowy prospect of a night doing my bidding.

I wondered if she had any idea how she’d squirt like a wanton little slut from that hungry pussy of hers and beg me for more. I wondered if she knew how her asshole would wink from its wide open mouth when I’d finished stretching her holes to my liking.

Brett wasted no time with niceties when he joined his wife opposite me. His hands were firm as they landed in loose fists on the table top, subconsciously staking his authority in the proceedings as he cleared his throat and got straight down to business.

I appreciate no-nonsense communication. In a parallel dimension, I may have even liked the guy.

“Fifty grand,” he said. “Nine hours on Tuesday night. We need some ground rules.”

“You will watch,” I reiterated. “From beginning to end, no interruptions or outbursts.”

“Agreed,” he grunted. “Now, you’d better tell me what seedy shit you want to do to my wife, and I’ll tell you what’ll get your head kicked in.”

I relaxed into my chair, my shoulders sloped easily, at odds to the tension bristling right through his. His biceps were bulging in his dark shirt, the stubble on his jaw adding to the inherent masculinity he’d been wearing like team colours his whole life long.

“Ass, pussy, mouth,” I said. “I’ll take all three as hard as I like without protest. I like to push limits, so there may well be some tenderness for a few days afterward, but no medical intervention will be necessary.”

Grace pulled her seat closer and leaned in to join the discussion.

“If you think for a second you’re going to double fist me to the elbow like you’re inseminating a cow, and I’m just going to take it like a good little whore, you’re very mistaken,” she told me. “My body doesn’t work that way, sorry.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m fully aware how your body will and won’t work, Mrs Foster. Most likely more aware than you are.”

“You hurt her, your body will be the one not fucking working,” Brett grunted, and this time I wanted to roll my eyes at his same old bully boy shit.

“As I said, no medical intervention will be necessary. Bondage, spanking, stretching and verbal degradation, however, are most certainly on the table.”

“You want to insult me?” she asked, and I straightened my back.

“You’ll enjoy the way I speak to you, I can assure you.”

She shook her head, laughing an incredulous little giggle. “Don’t count on it. I won’t be enjoying any of it.”

And there was my moment. Pure and proud and perfect.

They both looked up at me open-mouthed as I got to my feet and stepped away from the table.

“Let’s forget it,” I said, thrusting my hands in my trouser pockets like it was the easiest thing in the world to walk away. “I can see we’re not on the same page, and clearly you’re not invested in providing the quality of service I’m looking for. Thank you for a delicious breakfast and good luck with the coming months.”

I’d turned my back on them and made it halfway to the exit before Grace’s voice called my name. I pretended I didn’t hear her, walking on with brisk steps until she was forced to call out again, this time with a desperation that made my dick harden.

I turned back slowly, knowing full well I had her.

The fear in her husband’s eyes at my potential departure made it perfectly clear I had him, too.

“Please,” she said. “I didn’t…”

I stood statue still while she stumbled over her next words.

“I am invested in providing the service you want, I swear. I’m just…”

“We’re just on edge,” he offered right after her, raising his hands and shunting a little way back from the table. “We’ll make sure you get what you’re looking for. Both of us.”

His sliver of submission to my upper hand was a bolt of pure fucking brilliance up my spine.