The Mammoth Book of Erotica Presents The Best of Saskia Walker by Saskia Walker Page A

eyes.
    “I see ...” I mumbled, not sure if I did.
    “One thing I’d like to see ...” His voice was hoarse. He ran a finger down the collar of my blouse and into my cleavage. He slipped one finger inside, pulling the blouse open, looking at the shadow between my breasts. His other hand lifted mine and led it to his groin, where his cock was already hard inside his jeans.
    “What . . .?” I wanted to know. The blood was rushing in my ears; the magazine in my hand fell to the floor.
    “I’d like to watch him going down on you.” His eyes were filled with lust. I groaned, my hips beginning to shift as I rocked back and forth on the hard kitchen stool, my sex hungry for action. He leaned forward and kissed me, his tongue plunging into my mouth. My fingers fumbled with his fly buttons, and then I was bringing his heavy cock out and stroking it with my whole hand. He pushed me back, over the breakfast bar. He was going to fuck me, right there and then, and I was ready; sweet Jesus was I ready. I hoisted my skirt up around my hips. He dragged my knickers off and pushed my thighs apart with rough, demanding movements. He stroked my inflamed clit, growling when he saw the juices dribbling from my blushing slit. Then he fucked me while I perched on the kitchen stool, pivoting on its hard surface with everything on display.
    “Get your tits out,” he whispered as he thrust his cock deep inside me, his body crouched over me. I pulled my blouse open, my hands shaking as they shoved my breasts together, kneading them and tweaking the nipples, sending vibrant shivers through my core. I was whimpering, jamming myself down on his thrusting cock as hard as I could. Tom watched with hungry eyes as my hands crushed my breasts. I suddenly remembered Richard blushing when I had caught him looking at me over his monitor, just the other day. Was he aroused then? Had his cock gotten hard as he thought about me and Tom? He had glanced away, furtively, his color high. Dear God, the man had been thinking about us doing this; maybe even thinking about doing this
with
us. He had told Tom his dark secret, and Tom was now rutting in me like a wild man. I was on fire. I whimpered, my hands suddenly clutching at Tom’s shoulders. I was about to come. I had never come so bloody fast in my entire life.
    “You look very beautiful, Suzie,” Richard said. My fingers fidgeted with my neckline, nervously. “I always thought you looked like Audrey Hepburn with your hair up like that.” He smiled; he seemed quite calm now, and he was leading the situation even though he was going to be the slave. We were nervous, but then we were the novices; presumably he had done this many times before. I glanced at Tom. He had chatted happily about work while we made our way through several glasses of wine, until now – until Richard had moved the conversation on to a personal note. Now Tom had grown silent and watchful.
    “Thank you,” I replied, swigging another mouthful of wine. Both men were staring at me; the sexual tension had risen dramatically. “It’s the little black dress,” I added, with a smile. That morning I had told myself that I wasn’t dressed any differently; I always wore stockings, garters and high heels to the office. The little black dress underneath my jacket was the new addition. It was very soft and clingy, and now that I had abandoned the jacket I felt good in it. Besides, what does one wear when one is about to take on a sex slave?
    “You want to know what I’ve got in the briefcase, don’t you?” He’d seen me looking at his black leather briefcase when we left the office that evening, the three of us headed to Tom’s and my place for drinks. Yes, I had been curious. I nodded. “I like to wear a mask,” he said. “I’ve brought it with me and I’d like you to put it on for me.”
    My sex twitched. The combination of power and deviance he had suggested in that simple comment hit my libido like a narcotic entering the