I know of Courtney's. It is well-known as a hangout for celebrities, from rock stars to politicians, actors to newspaper tycoons—public faces who value a bit of privacy from time to time. It also has a reputation for being stupendously expensive.My Master leaves me, like a kid in a candy store, investigating the wardrobe, working my way through beautiful fabrics, expensive designer labels and gorgeous fuck me dresses.All the clothes are beautiful, stylish, and well-chosen, with a good mix of themes and styles, but as I work my way through them, it dawns on me what the common themes are. Firstly, they are all just my size—how does he do that? And secondly, every one of them, in some way, is easy access. The lovely garments might be demure on the surface, but every one of them has some form of flap, wrap, slit, lace, or button that would allow an experienced hand an easy way in.I pick out a cocktail dress with a tightly fitted bodice, but a loose, flaring skirt. The filmy fabric
In my dingy apartment, my good mood evaporates into a feeling of let-down. Why? I've had a wonderful evening, have been wined and dined, had sex that left me wanting to scrape the top of my head off the ceiling. Why do I suddenly feel blue? The food, so delicious, sits heavily inside me.In my bed, I admit to myself that I'm lonely for him. I would like to be curled up in his bed with his arms around me as I drift off to sleep.But that is not the deal we have. This is not a relationship. I am not his girlfriend or even a fuck buddy. I am an employee, simply one with some very good terms written into the agreement we made. I will have all the good things in life, including the training and education I need, to one day be rich and independent in my own right. For that, I service my Master, billionaire Richard Haswell.I cannot complain. It is the chance of a lifetime. Nonetheless, I wish for more.I cannot sleep, finding myself thinking of my Master, of his face as he commands m
Grabbing the bottle, I slide it inside myself. My aching cunt welcomes it, taking it in as I first test for fit, and then plunge it deep inside, fucking myself hard, again and again. The bottle is slippery with oil and slick with my juices, but I ram it home, over and over. At some level, I am conscious that the headboard is clattering against the wall, but I don't care.Now my orgasm builds, the tension mounting, blood pounding in my ears, my body arched rigidly, my thighs shuddering and trembling in my search for climax.With an unquenchable heat, my orgasm takes me. My pussy sends pulsating spasms through my body. My thighs and stomach throb and clench in a rhythm that takes me completely, and I cry out, still working the bottle inside myself, making the ecstasy last as long as I can, drawing out the moment when my Master will leave me.Pumping away at myself, I hold onto the crescendo as long as I can, before it becomes unbearable, and with a gasp, I whip the bottle out of my
"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. This wasn't your fault. When you brought me that file of inconsistencies that you said you didn't understand, you were quite correct. Those inconsistencies were not your misunderstanding of the procurement system. As I read through, and then when I investigated more deeply, it was quickly clear that what appeared to you to be the case, in fact, was the case. Someone was, in effect, having the same goods and services charged for twice, and sometimes more than twice. It would have been discovered at some point with a physical inventory count, but that could have been months away, and in the meantime, you have saved the company a great deal of money."Francis comes in with the coffee, deposits the tray, and leaves again. Richard pours two coffees, and I sip at mine, a bit lost for words.He leans forward and takes my hand. "Elizabeth, I can't tell you how grateful I am for your quick wits and your eye for detail. A lot of people would have, if they had spotted t
"So, you missed me, and you fucked yourself instead?""Yes, I did.""Yes, what?" He presses my hand against his growing erection."Yes, Master. I fucked myself thinking about you.""And?""I wanted you there, inside me. But you weren't there, so instead, I lay naked on my bed and got myself off.""How? What did you do, Elizabeth? Tell me, in detail. I want to know."I am unused to this and am not quite sure what to say, so I hesitate. "Elizabeth, I have given you an instruction. I want you to tell me, detail by detail, how you fucked yourself.""I spread my legs and I played with my clit." As I say this, my Master's cock jumps under my hand. I feel it straining for escape. As well as I can through his clothes, I work him with my fingers. Ross's voice comes over the car intercom, "Sorry, Mr Haswell, we're stuck in a traffic jam. Might take a bit longer to get there."I see my Master take a breath for voice control. He succeeds, and sounding very casual, replies,
On the fourth floor, he unlocks the door and gestures me inside. As soon as the door is closed behind us, my Master grabs me by the arm and pushes me back against a wall. "Now, madam, you were explaining to me how you handle yourself alone." One hand grabs me by the wrists, gathering them and raising my arms above my head, pinning me to the wall. The other hand heads south, and not too gently, pulls up the edge of my skirt, questing up my thighs, past my panties, to between my legs. There is nothing restrained about his actions. My Master is ready now. His finger reaches in and up, straight inside me. I hear his grunt of satisfaction to find me already dripping for him.With his face close to mine, he says, "Now, if you please, continue with your tale.""I screwed myself with a bottle ... hard."His fingers plunge into me and I yelp. "Like this?""Yes, Oh God, yes." He stabs into me again, spreading his fingers as he goes, thumb outside, pressed on my clit, and I start to wh
Ross drops Richard back at the office, then helps me pack my small number of possessions into the car—a few clothes and personal items, my steam-driven laptop, and my books. None of the furniture is mine, and I wouldn't want it in my lovely new apartment anyway. When we return to the apartment block, with Ross staggering slightly under the weight of a cardboard box full of books, the concierge gives me a key. I notice that he is wearing a fresh shirt and is now sitting upright and alert at his desk."You've given me the wrong one," I say. "This is for 127A. Mine is 47A.""That's the one Mr Haswell said I was to give you.""Oh. Right." Puzzled, I take the lift to the twelfth floor, Ross following me.The twelfth-floor apartment is amazing. High above the city, the gorgeous park view is below, but now the view opens far over buildings old and new, across the river, and out to the hills beyond. There are three bedrooms, a huge lounge and dining area overlooking those stunning vist
I feel the rise of my orgasm within me, the tension building and my belly muscles clenching as it builds. Convulsing in a paroxysm of ecstatic joy, I try to lean up to embrace the sensation, but my Master's hand, flat between my breasts, pushes me down on my back again, holding me pinned as my climax overtakes me. I am unconscious of anything but the release, as my pulsating cunt sends violent waves of pleasure through my stomach and thighs. I do not know if I scream, gasp, or cry, only that I am lying helplessly writhing, speared by my Master as he gazes down on me, cumming at his command.Sated and exhausted, I lie there, my panting subsiding, as my Master locks eyes with me. "Don't move," he says. "You haven't finished."He draws level with my face, and once again, seizes hold of my hair, pulling up my face. "Open wide."I open my mouth and he pushes inside. "Finish me off," he commands. "I want to see you swallowing my cum.""May I use my hands as well?""Yes, you can