Sex with a Sting: Six Erotic Fantasies with a Kink in the Tail by C.D. Foxwell Page B

were
still at least a half a dozen women in the room who Claire knew were both
available and, she felt, more desirable than her. Lily, who performed PA duties
for both Zoe and Claire, was a prime example. She was young and radiantly cute,
with blonde hair that almost sparkled like silver, big blue eyes, and
incredible translucent skin. Lily had been single for some time, which shocked
Claire, because she was also one of the sweetest, funniest and intelligent
women she had ever met. Secretly, she thought her and Paolo were actually a
very good match.
    Yet Paolo didn’t seem interested in Lily,
or any of the other myriad angels in the room. She had seen a few young men
lust after Zoe over the years too, because of her juicy figure and her sexual
confidence, but he wasn’t even looking at her. This young, dynamic man, in his
dapper black Italian suit, crisp white shirt with top button undone and black
tie loosened, looking for all the world like a junior member of the Rat Pack,
was only paying attention to her. He was more than a decade her junior. When
she and Zoe had started the business, he was about to start his GCSEs at
school. Yet she was excited despite herself. She couldn’t remember the last
time a man, apart from her own husband, had engaged her like this, had openly
flirted with her like this. It felt nice.
    Of course, it didn’t mean anything. This
was just a bit of harmless fun at the Christmas party. He’d probably go off
clubbing with some of the younger girls later and she’d go home to her warm bed
and her husband would probably follow at about 3am, drunk. Not that she minded:
he was not always out on the lash, but she knew that when he did go out it was
invariably a big one, as if he saved everything up for one big blow-out. His
hangover would be significantly worse than hers in the morning.
     
    More people drifted away from the party
until there were only two groups left: Zoe was in a circle with a couple of
girls from the office and two more from some magazine or other, while Paolo and
Claire continued their private conversation. Zoe, dressed in vivid, Christmassy
red, with a revealing slit up the left thigh of her dress, moved away from her
group and approached them. “Listen, we’re going to go on to a club or something.
Do you two fancy another drink?”
    “No, I better be going home, Zo, sorry. I
think I’ve had enough. I can barely balance in these heels!”
    “Come on, babe! It’s Christmas! One
more?” Claire was tempted, but in the end she shook her head. The call of her
bed was just too much to resist – the room already seemed like it had
tilted slightly on its axis. “What about you, handsome?” asked Zoe.
    “No, I think it’s time for me to go, too.
But you girls have a good time. And don’t get too drunk, okay?”
    “Suit yourselves.” A few minutes later,
as she was leaving, Zoe called out to them: “Last chance!” But they both
laughed and waved her on her way.
    Claire drained the remnants of her fourth
Royal Plush. “Well, I better be going home. Thanks for introducing me to these
– I’m going to try mixing them myself at home… in a few days, anyway,
after the inevitable hangover has worn off.”
    “Experiment with the measures –
that’s always fun. But never, ever, mix Bailey’s and white wine in the same
glass. I did that once in an attempt to invent an incredible new cocktail. It
doesn’t work. Trust me.”
    “I’ll remember that! So, where have you
got to get back to again?”
    “I’m not far from you, actually. We
could… share a cab? Save a bit of money?”
    “I tell you what, you’ve been shouting me
these drinks all night,” Paolo had repeatedly refused her offers of cash to buy
a round. “How about I order us a cab, we’ll drop you off first and I’ll stick
it on expenses?”
    “Okay, sounds fine with me… Ah! You know
what? I need to get my suitcase from the office. I didn’t want to bring it
here, but I’m straight out at a meeting