Named and Shamed by C. P. Mandara Page B

store and felt eyes upon her; beady eyes watching her every move. It wasn't because the assistant behind the till expected her to steal anything; the cut of her clothes and the designer handbag would disabuse him of that notion. He had other things on his mind.
    'Can I help you, Miss?' The rough cockney accent of the youth made her smile.
    The gentleman who had walked in the store before her and who was hurriedly searching the aisles for something himself, looked a little disgruntled to have his position in the queue so easily usurped.
    'Yes please. I don't suppose you sell fruit?'
    'There's a fridge at the back with sandwiches, snacks, soft fruit and the like. Would you like any help?'
    Mr Unhappy, who was now a few metres away and looking decidedly cross heard her replying, 'No, thank you. I'll be back in a minute.' She smiled her thousand kilowatt smile at the assistant, whose jaw dropped in awe, and marched hurriedly away.
    When she reached the small refrigerator there wasn't a great deal of interest; plenty of sandwiches, some sausage rolls and right in the corner, a couple of apples, some bananas and a few punnets of strawberries. They would have to do. Paying for the items quickly, almost laughing when the assistant dropped her credit card in his rush to help her, she took the proffered carrier bag and rushed back to serve her Master breakfast. She could only hope the meagre offerings would suffice.
     
    Knocking at Matthews' door for permission to enter, he immediately waved her inside. Taking the carrier bag from the tips of her fingers, he laid the contents on his desk.
    'Straddle the chair with your back to me.'
    His voice sounded terse. Perhaps her little shopping trip had given him an appetite. One could only hope, thought Marianna wistfully. Doing as he asked, she waited in silence for his next instruction. None were forthcoming. Hearing the rustle of plastic on his desk, she guessed he was going to eat something first. Her thoughts were confirmed when she heard the sound of an apple being sliced in two. Her fingers tightened over the top of the chair back. She could feel the grain of the wood beneath her fingertips and absentmindedly smoothed her fingers along its surface in an effort to relieve her inactivity.
    'Itching to move so soon, Miss Morreau?' When he murmured her surname he used the French intonation, rolling the double 'r', and it sent a shiver right through her.
    'Yes,' she whispered back. He began to peel her dress back up over her stockinged legs and as he reached the smooth, uncovered flesh of her upper thighs, he let his hands roam.
    'Lean forward and push your bottom out,' he whispered in her ear.
    Marianna obliged.
    'Beautiful. I see your dress has dried somewhat. Pity.' Mark bunched the fabric upward with the heels of his hands and revealed a pair of deliciously pink, naked buttocks. 'Cold outside, was it?'
    She was aware that he was amusing himself at her expense, but also horribly distracted as both his hands had begun to snake underneath her backside. He inserted them between her legs and used them to splay her apart. His tongue traced a path down the delicate dip in her ass cheeks, which quivered in response. 'At least I won't need to ask if you're wet.' Pressing something cold against her pussy, he began to slide it along her sex. She squawked and instantly tried to close her legs.
    'Tsk, tsk. Naughty behaviour like that is rewarded like this.' He gave her rear end a firm swat with the flat of his hand. It stung his palm, so the chit had certainly felt it. At any rate, she seemed to take the lesson on board, keeping her body nice and still as he gradually pushed the item inside her. Using one finger to tease her clit, he burrowed the item deep into her flesh.
    Marianna could hear the sounds of fingers being sucked and licked clean. What on earth was he up to? As his fingers once again pressed for entry at her core she tried to concentrate on the shape of the object being inserted, but