Chapter 16 WildCat (2)
Claire's POV
I've always had a taste for spectacular dicks. Afterward, I decided to settle down with Oliver, who presumably was in love with me. He didn't know anything about my past which was a good thing.
I did love Oliver for what he could provide me. He was the sort of gentleman who swallowed all my excesses despite our tacky arguments. I believed he loved me just the way I was.
But, someone was beginning to penetrate my well-being, he was younger than I was. I was thirty eight, he was twenty nine. Oliver being the oldest was forty two.
I tried to quench the throbbing taste of him, but it was never enough. Every fiber of me trembled whenever he was close. At the first break of dawn, I was out from home, racing to my car while relishing in the thought of meeting him in my office.
He was the son of my boss. Charles Martin was his name. Charles worked as a waiter for the Harte's lounge while his father controlled the company. I didn't understand why Charles chose to give himself another last name choosing to work instead of being a boss like his father. Somehow it gave him a sense of power working in the background.
"Hmm, you dressed up just for me," Charles walked in, turning the lock behind him. He was dressed in an overall white, his leather hair was brushed to one side of his face.
I smiled, feeling girlish. "What kept you so long?" I drawled.
"I had to stall my father for a while. You know he has been seeing me more often around this block." He muttered, smirking at me.
"Is he suspecting something?" I narrowed my brows.
"He can never. I'm good at this game. The other time, you nearly gave us away at the lounge, remember?" Charles asked me.
I scoffed, recalling. "You were the one drooling over me. What was I to do? I needed to keep your mind at ease." I smiled.
"Now, you're going to compensate me for all the pure tortures that you had rendered me." He was pompous and full of himself.
Surprisingly, that attribute of him hardened my nipples. I bit my lower lip while flaking a hand to fan my face. "Why are you in whites?" I asked him.
"I sneaked out from the kitchen, Claire. Gave a snarky excuse and took the back door," he paused for a while to slap my buttocks with his hand, shoving me to his body. My mouth dropped open as a gasp escaped me when our bodies meshed together.
Slowly, he squeezed my derriere, tremors like shooting stars circled my body and I moaned. Then, he pressed his mouth against the length of my neck, giving love bites. While he applied pressure on my behind, I could feel the heat of his hardness rising.
"On your knees, Claire. I've been thinking about your mouth around my cock all day it feels like I might explode from the excitement of you. By the time I'm done with you, your hole will be unable to bear the grievances of my shaft." He side-grinned.
A sweet aching feeling throbbed between my legs, spreading across my body. I was merely wet from the sight of him, yet his words were playing magic on me. My knees touched the bare floor as he began to unbuckle his belt, zip down his trousers, and he pulled out his 6-inch weenie.
His weenie should be a sculptured monument placed in the center of a museum, I mused. It was a thing to be studied, archived, and saved for future research.
How could a man like Charles be able to handle so much of that glorious object? Every time my eyes fell on it, it felt brand new to me. Sometimes, I'd wondered how it had fitted inside of me. He was made perfectly, just for me.
I giggled when he placed the tip of his prick on my lips. "Kiss it," he motioned with a jerk of his head.
My eyes scanned his face briefly, thrilled at the look of anticipation on his face. Reaching out, my hand clasped tightly around his organ, allowing my tongue to flicker on the cap of his organ. He hissed, sucking in a deep breath.
Surged by the response of my tongue on him, I applied pressure -licking the edges of his cap while narrowing it unto his Mickey's eye.
"You do it so well," he moaned, his eyes peering down at me.
He stopped me for a while, and moved over to my desk, with a frantic wipe, he cleared one part of the table. Then, he sat on the desk, while adjusting his trousers down to his thighs. I scuttled over to him and resumed sucking him. This time, my mouth swallowed a sizable view of his organ. His hands grabbed my head, while my head began a slow bob. Circling the edges again, while applying a handjob at the same time.
Glug-glug-glug-glug-glug. I began a faster pace as Charles synced with my pace. While I seem so engrossed on his peter, he thrusted my head up and down his object, this time forcefully. My hands were flailing at my sides, choked by his thick dick.
"That was rough, Charles," I gasped once he let go of my head.
"I'm going to be rougher by the way. I'm sure you gave it to him just the way he likes it," he sneered.
My eyes widened. What did he mean by that? Why was he suddenly getting rammed by the thought of my husband in me? We'd talked about this and suggested ways to curtail every form of jealousy. Why was he rambling about all that right now? I asked myself.
Without waiting for a form of protest from me, he impaled my mouth back on his joystick, groaning as he started jerking his rod in and out of my mouth.
He particularly enjoyed me deep-throating him. I still couldn't decipher why he was being so harsh. The door creaked open, letting in a mild breeze.
Wasn't the door locked? My eyes nearly bulged out from its sockets. I tried to push Charles' hands on my head away but it was too late for all of that now.