Multi-Orgasmic Box Set

The Only b***h For Me

The Only b***h For Me

It had been so long since I’d seen her that I’d almost forgotten how bossy she could be. She sauntered up – late, as usual – to where I was standing at the bar. We greeted one another with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. Before I could utter a word she gave me a cursory once over and piped up, “Are you going to buy me a drink then?”

No niceties, not even a “how are you?” You wouldn’t think I’d just returned from a f*****g war zone, would you? Six months in Afghanistan, risking life and limb. Cool as a cucumber, she was. And yet at the same time, she was so hot she’d make Satan sweat.

However, I was used to Cassie and her ways by now. So without missing a beat, I asked what she wanted and gave her order to the barman. Taking the drinks, I followed her and her wiggling arse as she made her way to a table. When she selected one as far away from all the other patrons as possible, I knew how this was going to play out. My c**k twitched in anticipation.

Placing the drinks down on the table, I hurried to pull out her chair and help her into it. She nodded her thanks and took a sip from her wine glass as she waited for me to sit down.

“So you’re back then,” she said, eyeing me, as if looking for scars or wounds. I had none. Others hadn’t been so lucky.

“Um, yes.” I said, confused. Of course I was back, was I not sitting right in front of her?

“I meant for good. Back for good, smart arse.”

“Sorry. Yes. I’m back for good. I’m now officially a civilian.”

“So that means no more taking orders without question, huh? You have your own free will to do what you want, when you want.”

Before I could respond, I felt her foot slipping in between my legs. But this was no stocking-clad caress. She was still wearing her stilettos, and the pointed toe of one of them pushed against my c**k, which had begun to swell within my underwear. I gulped.

“I guess not. Not in my professional life, anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow.

The conversation was temporarily halted as a waiter came to the table, notepad and pen poised.

“Good evening,” he said, smiling at us both and completely oblivious to what was taking place under the table, “will you be eating with us this evening?”

I was about to ask him to come back in a few minutes when we’d had chance to peruse the menu. But Cassie clearly had other ideas. Pressing her toe painfully against my burgeoning erection, she replied, “No, thank you. But would you mind bringing us another bottle of this wine and charging it to Mr. Holden’s room?” She pointed out the bottle in question on the menu.

Expensive tastes. But that was Cassie all over.

“Certainly, madam. I’ll be right back.”

Alone once more, I looked at her, waiting for an explanation. I didn’t prompt her, knowing she’d only speak when she was good and ready.

Cassie’s foot began moving, chafing up and down my crotch. It was both less and more painful than before; she was no longer digging the toe of her shoe into me, but she was making my c**k so hard that I felt like it was going to burst out of my clothes, Incredible Hulk style. If she carried on much longer, I was going to come in my pants. She’d love that, humiliating me and making me sit there with my own spunk drying and cooling in my underwear. She’d get off on it.

“We’re going to get room service.” She finally deigned to tell me; her foot now alternating between rough strokes and sharp little digs. I gritted my teeth as I felt my balls tighten in anticipation of their release. “And then you’re going to make me come. Depending on how well you do, I may possibly let you c****x too. Then, and only then, will we have a conversation about our future.”

As I felt my o****m approach, I knew two things for certain. One; that I couldn’t wait to bury my face between her legs and feel her come all over my face, and two; that whilst I was on my knees, I would beg Cassie to be my wife.

After all, she was the only b***h for me. And she knew it.