Thursday morning

 

I’m jolted awake by the sound of my alarm. I don’t have to look at the clock to know it’s already 7:00am. I roll over, onto my back and rub my eyes as I try and adjust to the sunlight creeping through a gap in the curtain. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it?” I think, and groan at the thought of having to get up for work after what feels like a minute’s sleep. No, today is an important day, I need to be on it. I slip out of bed, and begin my daily routine by making my bed before jumping in the shower. My name is Abigail Anderson, I’m a junior designer at Hawkins & Brown, one of the biggest architectural consultancy firms in Europe and lately, I’ve not been getting nearly enough sleep. More on that later. Right now I’m going to be late for work. I quickly brush my teeth and grab my outfit that I put together yesterday before heading out. I get dressed, do my hair and apply some light makeup before opening my bedroom door and heading down the hall. I walk to my kitchen; the coffee machine has already prepared my morning dose of caffeine. I pour myself a cup, add sugar and a bit of cream, and then I lean against the counter and take a sip.

 

 

“I should probably visit mum later,” I think to myself as take another sip of my coffee. It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen her. Not long I know, but I worry about her. My mum has bipolar disorder. She can be hard work at times, but I know it isn’t her fault. She’s been bouncing from one job to the next lately, even more so than normal. Ever since dad passed away it seems to have gotten worse. My brother is useless and never checks in on her, and I’ve been very busy lately, more so than normal. We have a few important client projects at work, including my first I’m flying solo with, so I can’t always be around. The company I work for takes on major projects like designing and building corporate buildings, hotels, that sort of stuff. We oversee the whole project from start to finish. I’m an interior designer, so I see the back end, which is where it usually gets quite emotive, shall we say. I enjoy my job, but our clients are very wealthy people, and with that comes the ego. That and they are used to getting what they want. Half the time I’m not sure they even know what that is.

 

 

I finish the last drop of my coffee and fill the mug with warm soapy water and leave it in the sink, I’ll sort that later. I make my way to the living room, grab my car keys off the side, and head for the door. The drive to my office isn’t long, and thankfully today there seems to be less traffic than normal. I get to the office with about 10 minutes to spare and manage to snag one of the remaining parking spaces. Once I get to my building, I make my way through the revolving door and into the lobby.

 

 

“Abigail, good morning, how are you?”

 

“Hi Sarah, I’m well thank you, how about you? Sarah is our receptionist, an attractive brunette who started here about 6 months ago. She smiles at me, exposing her perfect white teeth. “That smile can’t be real, surely” I think. No one is born that perfect. If so, she is in the wrong line of work, she should be on a billboard advertising a new line of dental floss or something.

 

“Super! Hot date planned tonight. I’ll divulge the details later though; Darren is looking for you.”

 

I try not to roll my eyes at that news. “Great” I think, I bet it’s regarding my current project. My client is constantly on the phone, like we are…like I am, his personal assistant…

 

“That’s exciting! Can’t wait for the juicy details. Appreciate the heads up!” I say as I make my way to the elevator. The door opens on my floor. I walk to the door and pull it open, and just like that, Darren comes bounding over to me.

 

“Abi great, you’re here. Mr Vennochi called this morning; he wants to go over some details with you regarding his offices.”

 

“Knew it”, I think to myself. “Again? I went through all the fine print with him last week.” I try to remain professional and not groan, but the thought of Mr Vennochi, coupled with my lack of sleep causes me to fail miserably.

 

“Come on Abi, this client is spending a small fortune. His budget is not a problem here, just give the man what he wants. If he changes his mind on a few things, let it slide.” Darren lets out a wry smile, he must know how annoying this client is.

 

 

Darren walks towards his office and nods his head in the direction of it as if gesturing me to follow. I step inside and close the door behind me. Darren heads over to the window and looks outside for a second before turning around and placing his hands on the desk.

 

“Take a seat Abi” he asks. I step forward, place my handbag on the floor and sit down, crossing my legs.

 

“This is your first solo design project and you are smashing it so far, I gave you this project because I trusted you could handle it, and that you were ready.” I couldn’t help but blush slightly. Darren has been a good boss, but praise isn’t really his thing. If you get it, you know you’ve earnt it. He continues, “Mr Vennuchi, Luca, he’s…how do I put this.”

 

“He’s a sleaze” I interrupt.

 

“He’s…very particular about what he wants” Darren responds.

 

“Yeah…and he’s a sleaze. The man is insufferable!” I protest. Darren sighs, as if he knows this but isn’t really listening.

 

“He’s getting old, and he’s richer than everyone in this building 100 times over. You know it comes with the territory. He’s had everything he ever wants in life.” I get this uncomfortable feeling that Darren knew what he’d be like with me all along. “This isn’t the first major contract we’ve signed with Luca” he adds, “a couple of years ago we designed a penthouse for him. Not something we would normally take on, but it was an open chequebook job. I sold it in as an opportunity to do future business with someone like Mr Vennochi. It worked.”

 

“You lead the project?” I asked

 

“I was lead designer, yeah. Look, I know what he can be like. And he’ll fuss over the minor details. Just smile and nod. Keep him happy. Keep it so he feels he’s in control. Land this fish and you’ll be surprised what kind of doors open Abi.”

 

 

Darren takes his hands off the desk and stands up tall, before lifting an arm towards the door as if signalling the end of this brief meeting. I stand up and pick my handbag up and am about to walk out before Darren stops me.

 

“Oh, there is one more thing. Mr Vennochi, these details he wants to go over. He wants you to meet him for lunch to discuss as he’s in town.” I frown before remembering what Darren said “Okay fine, did he specify a time or…?”

 

“I’ve set a meeting at his restaurant, Divino’s. Noon today.”

 

“He owns Divino’s as well?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. Darren puffs out his chest before exhaling slowly.

 

“Like I said Abi, land this fish.” He holds the door open for me as I step through. “What have you got planned for the rest of the day?” he asks.

“No meetings today” I reply, “I’m going to work on a few designs to take with me to see Mr Vennochi. I need to go visit my mum after work so I’ll need to make sure I leave on time today.”

 

“Excellent. And no worries, hope your mum is good.”

 

“Yeah, she is fine, I’ve just not visited in a couple of weeks.”

 

“Good stuff. Speak soon” Darren closes the door behind him.

 

“You’ve got this Abi.” I think as I swivel on my heels and walk down the corridor to my desk. I spend the next couple of hours working on Mr Vennochi’s offices uniterrupted. I almost lose track of time. I glance at the clock – it’s almost 11:30am. “Crap” I mutter, I need to leave in the next couple of minutes if I’m going to make it to see Mr Vennochi by noon.

 

I grab my handbag and my designs and quickly make it out of the building.

 

“I’ve not forgotten Sarah” I say as I pass the reception desk in the lobby. “Date details” I wink.

 

“When you return I shall divulge all,” Sarah beams back with that perfect smile.

 

Thursday afternoon

 

After a 20 minute drive, I pull into the carpark of Divino’s Italian fine dining. I switch off the ignition, open the door and lock the car, before walking to the door. Once inside, the Maitre D greats me.

 

 

“Good day miss. Reservation?”

 

“Mr Vennochi is expecting me I believe, noon.”

 

“Ah yes of course, table for two, lucky lady.” He smiles at me. “Mr Vennochi is already waiting; follow me.”

 

“Lucky lady?!” I think “The nerve!”

 

“Can I just nip to the bathroom really quick?” I ask. “I’m sorry, longer than expected drive.”

 

“Oh but of course miss, this way”

 

I step into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I just needed a minute to compose myself as I could feel my face growing red. I let out a deep breath. “I can get through this” I mutter to myself. If the man wants to flirt, just let him, smile and flutter my eyelashes. Let him spend his millions. I couldn’t help but think of Darren’s comment in his office, “land this fish and you’ll be surprised what kind of doors open Abi.” For a moment I imagine myself in Darren’s position, leading the department. It’s tough being a woman in the workplace, even now in the 21^st century. You would be surprised how many pigs there are out there still. If a woman wants to advance in her career, you can almost guarantee one will be standing in your way…

 

I fix my hair and quickly re-apply my lipstick, before hitching up my skirt an inch. “If I’m going to do this, let’s give him both barrels and see how close to an extra zero we can get” I think

 

The Maitre D grins at me, as if he’s noticed the sudtle changes. “Here’s your table miss” before bowing and leaving. “Mr Vennochi” I say, before smiling. He finishes taking a sip of wine before dabbing his mouth and turning to me.

 

“Miss Abigail Anderson” he remarks in his gravelly voice, before his eyes widen and look me up and down. “As beautiful as ever I see.” He quickly gets up and stretches his arms out. I lean in and pretend to kiss both cheeks. His scent is thick with cologne. He’s practically drowning in it. He steps forward as if he’s about to pull out my chair for me. I almost stop him but let him continue.

 

“Thank you, Mr Venocchi.” I quickly take my seat, before he follows suit.

 

“Abigail please, call me Luca. I say to Darren to tell you, call me Luca” he laughs and lets out a grimy smile. I already know where this is heading

“Okay from now on I will call you Luca.” I smile. “I just believe in maintaining a proper business relationship.”

 

“Tsk business!” he chuckles before coughing and wiping his mouth. “Business is dull, lets have some fun. You are young. You seem like a fun time girl am I right?

 

“Err yes, I guess? But first, I’ve been working on some designs for your offices this morning that I’d like to show you.” I quickly try and change the subject.

 

Luca waves his hands, as if signaling the end of that topic, before clicking his fingers. The maitre D walks over to our table quickly.

 

“The designs are lovely, I’m sure. I will look over them. Lets eat and drink first. You want something to drink?”

 

“Err, of course. I’ll have…” before I can finish Luca interrupts.

 

“Bottle of the falanghina.” The Maitre D disappears.

 

“I shouldn’t really drink alcohol” I reply, “I am still working this afternoon.”

 

“Ahh Darren will understand. It’s me!” He stretches his arms out as if to signify his magnificence. “You need to try this new wine. It’s fantastic. I may buy the vineyard” he laughs.

 

“So, the offices”, I try and steer us back on course.

 

“Later” he responds. “Right now, let us enjoy lunch together. He reaches his hand over and squeezes my arm before stroking my hand. I’m starting to wonder if this ‘meeting’ was ever really about the project…

 

“So, this restaurant is one of your ventures?” I take a sip from my wine glass and smile. “I’ll play along with the small talk for the time being,” I think

“Yes. One of 3 restaurants I own now. No money in restauranting anymore though. It used to be you either cooked, or you went to a restaurant. Nowadays you can order anything. Collect it. Have it delivered. Any type of food you want.” He takes a huge gulp of his wine, almost finishing it in one. “Fools game.” He adds.

 

“So why get into it?” I ask.

 

“My other two do okay. Enough to keep things ticking over. This one not so much. I buy this one as a favour to a friend.”

 

“Why take on a failing restaurant?”

 

“Like I said, a favour. The restaurant itself was good, just never busy enough to turn a profit. The owner always had an eye for good wine though” he says as he swirls the remainder in his glass before finishing it.

 

“So this friend of yours. You buy him out. Then he owes you?” I lean in, pretending to be engrossed in this conversation. Mr Vennochi smiles before leaning forward.

 

“Smart and beautiful,” he reaches his hand under the table and squeezes my thigh. Just then the Maitre D appears to take our order. Mr Vennochi hasn’t even opened his menu, but promptly says he’ll have ‘the usual’. The Maitre D turns to me expectantly.

 

“Luca, what would you recommend?” I deflect. He chose the wine. I may as well let him order the meal. Like Darren said, let him hold the cards so to speak. Mr. Vennochi looks up at the head waiter.

 

“The…the truffle ravioli wiith the cream. What is it called?” he clicks his fingers rapidly as if trying to remember.

 

“The porcini mushroom and truffle ravioli, sir?” the Maitre D responds.

 

“Yes that’s it! You’ll love it. Delightful” Mr Vennochi takes the bottle of falanghina and tops my glass up before refilling his. The Maitre D collects the menus and shuffles away promptly. “As far as choices go that could have been worse,” I think, “At least he didn’t pick shellfish…”

 

 

Luca and I ate lunch together, along with a second bottle of wine. Although I managed to avoid drinking more than a glass and a half by topping his glass up with mine twice when he went to the bathroom. I tried my best to show him my designs, with little success. I did however talk about some added costs by using the best materials and finishes. He seemed to like the idea of added opulence. Budget really was nothing to him. The longer we sat the gropier he got, so I made my excuses that I had to see my mother and left for the office. Later in the afternoon Darren grabbed me for a chat.

 

“So how was it?” Darren asked.

 

“Oh you know” I sighed. “As expected, I don’t think he was ever interested in details.”

 

“Everything still good with the project though?” Darren seemed flustered. He’s never normally like that.

 

“I mean yeah, I showed him my updates. He looked for like, a few seconds tops. Said he loved it and to make it happen. He was more interested in…” I stroked my leg, gesturing to Darren what the lunch meeting he planned for me had subjected me to for an hour.

 

“Oh right, got it…well I appreciate you closing it out. Great work. And I’m sorry for…”

 

“Its fine” I cut him off before taking my opportunity “Can I get going now? I need to get across town to see mum.”

 

“Oh yeah of course, please do.” Darren responds.

 

Thursday evening

 

I make my way up my mums driveway to her front door. I knock on the door gently, no answer. I knock again and a few moments later the door swings open hurriedly. “Oh Abigail!” my mum steps outside to give me a hug.

 

“Hi mum, sorry I’ve not stopped my for a few weeks. How are you doing?”

 

“Oh I’m fine sweetheart, are you coming in? I’m baking!” she beams. This might not seem like a big thing, but I can almost feel the relief wash over me to hear she’s doing something normal. “Yes of course” I respond.

 

As we enter her hallway, I can smell the aroma of baked bread coming from her kitchen. The faint sound of the television echoes from the living room. As we enter the kitchen I notice a half empty bottle of pills on the counter. Oh good, she’s still taking her medication. That is half the battle with her. On her meds she is fine. If she stops taking them, well, usually the wheels fall off soon after…

 

“Smells amazing mum. And you’re taking…” I point at the pills bottle on the worktop.

 

“Yes I am. That and I’ve still not drank a drop. You’ll be proud of me. And I’m back to cooking!” This really was the best news I could have hoped for. “How are things with you? Work going well? You look tired.” Mum adds.

 

“I’m great mum, just happy and relieved that you are doing well. Work is good. Closed a big contract today. I had quite a late night last night. that’s why. I was…on a date.” I pause for a second before altering a few details.

 

 

“It must have gone well if you were up late!” mum says with an excited smile.

 

“Oh yeah, very good” I say, as a memory of last night flashes before my eyes. Me ass-up on the bed as a stranger pounds me from behind. I fidget slightly, rubbing my thighs together.

 

Mum and I spend the next hour sitting on her sofa and catching up. She says my brother hasn’t been in contact. This news makes me angrier than it should, its what I’ve come to expect by now. It irks me because I want him to see she’s doing well for once, in spite of him never being around. As the evening sun wanes outside of her window, I can’t help but be drawn back to memories of the night before. My mum and I say our goodbyes and hug on her doorstep. I promise I’ll call in again next week, before reversing out of her driveway and heading off down the street.

 

My mind is now fixed firmly on events of the previous evening. As I drive I place my hand up my skirt and feel the wet patch on my crotch. I pull my panties to one side and rub my swollen lips with my middle finger as I consider gettting myself off as I drive down the motorway. “No, wait till you get home” I think.

 

I fumble my keys into the lock as I open my front door, before abrupty closing it behind me. I kick my heels off in the hallway before hanging my coat on an empty coat hook. As I run upstairs I imagine myself laid bare on that hotel bed. I open my bedroom door and fling my handbag onto the empty chair, quickly followed by my blouse. I unzip my skirt and let it drop to the floor, before undoing the clasp on my bra and tossing it to one side. I bend down and reach into my bedside drawer, taking out my vibrator and my eye mask. I hurriedly pull my panties down before climbing onto my bed and lying on my back. I place the strap of my eye mask over my head and cover my eyes, before letting my vibrator slide into my wet opening. I gasp and lose myself in memories of last night…

 

 

Wednesday evening

 

I kneel, naked, on the edge of the bed in the hotel room. My only instructions; First, wear a blindfold. Second, submit. My heart beat rapidly as I eaglerly waited for my partner. This is what I agreed to – no sight, at least not for me. Tonight, I wasn’t Abigail. I wasn’t a designer for the biggest architectural based consultancy in the city. I was simply an object to be used, subservient to the sexual desires of an unknown lover.

 

 

This is my third time having blind sex, my latest kink and one I am utterly mad for. You put your name in the pool and set your interests, kinks, wants, do’s, don’ts and so on. Once all that is in, similar to dating apps, you are matched with the most compatible lover based on your interests. The only hard rule is user discretion. I had to wait over a month for my first match, but it was worth it. Since then I had another two weeks later. And last night, I received my third. If you are matched and both parties agree to the terms, they arrange the time and location and that’s it. My kink is rough sex. I’m not interested in anything vanilla. I want my lover to fuck me. Tie me up. Use me. Make me his personal fucktoy for the night. As I kneel, my centre is already soaking wet just thinking of the things that will be done to it over the next few hours.

 

I bite my lips as I imagine a total stranger holding me down and fucking me, harder and harder; I want to cum already. I try my best to remain still, waiting patiently. My vulva pulses and aches as the anticipation builds. The room is deathly silent, but suddenly, I hear the sound of footsteps in the hallway and then the swipe of a keycard, before the door to this suite opens and closes. I listen intently to the sound of a coat being removed in the hallway. Then, the sound of his shoes clipping the ground as he approaches the door to the bedroom where I wait. As the door swings open, I fidgit my thighs together and feel the moisture between them. My vagina gets more excited the closer he gets. He wastes no time in getting to my position, I sense him stood in front of me.

 

I lean forward slightly and wiggle my hips gently from side to side, showcasing my goods. The first touch of his I feel is of his hand under my chin. He places his thumb on my lips and pulls my bottom lip down. He places his thumb inside my mouth, pushing it against my tongue, opening my mouth wider. He then grabs my face in his hand and squeezes my cheeks, lifting my head slightly upwards. I respond by sticking my tongue out. I hear his trousers unzip, and almost instantly his cock is thrust into my mouth.

 

 

I feel my nipples harden as he grabs my hair and pushes my head down onto his thick dick. With one hand firmly on the back of my head and the other under my chin, he begins to fuck my mouth. I gag as his shaft pounds the back of my throat. I feel him getting even harder, before he pulls out and slaps my cheek with the head of his member. I spit on the end of it and let my saliva run out of my mouth and down my lips, rubbing them up and down his shaft before licking his balls. He grabs my face again in his hand and for the first time I feel his face next to mine as he bends down. His face feels cleanly shaven but for a faint courseness of stubble. He licks my cheek before pushing me backwards onto the bed. I free my legs from under me before he takes my hands and places them over my head. I feel him straddle my torso with his legs, I open my mouth gladly, knowing he wants to fuck my face again. This time he places the tip in my mouth but holds it there, I let me tongue roll over and around it and for the first time I hear a moan from his lips. He lowers himself down and his shaft fills my throat. He starts to thrust, first slowly then harder with each passing motion as he uses my mouth for his pleasure.

 

 

I can feel his cock twitch and tense in my mouth. Knowing he was probably close to climax already, he gets off me and I feel his hands on my thighs. I roll my hips and arch my back as his hands part my legs and find their way up to my hot, wet core. He parts my lips and dips his fingers in, first his middle finger, then two, as he starts pumping faster and faster. I keep my arms above me and lean into one arm, moaning softly as his fingers continue to pump my soaking wet hole. He pulls his fingers out and begins to rub my swollen clit. As he does, his mouth finds my opening and his tongue slides inside, licking the walls of my vagina. I can feel my clit hardening as his fingers tease and rub it. He switches his hand and mouth, his fingers sliding back into me with ease, before his mouth starts sucking on my clit. This dual assault on my vagina almost sends me to climax. As if sensing this, he pulls away, leaving me breathless. Now I’m hot. I’m achy. I’m throbbing. I want him to fuck me so badly. If only I was in charge and could make him, but this right here is why I love this so much. I’m at his mercy to do with as he pleases.

 

 

I feel his face close to mine again. This time he pushes my face to one side, exposing my neck. I can feel his warm breath as his nose just touches my ear. My nipples harden even more. I’m almost at my limit, I want to scream for him to do me when he grabs my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the bed, before spreading my legs apart. I feel the weight of his cock resting on my opening, before he rubs the tip on my lips, parting them slightly. I thrust my hips, unable to wait any longer, hoping to accelerate the process. I want him inside of me now, but he grabs my waist and holds me firmly against the bed. As his cock slowly enters me, he grabs me by the throat and squeezes. His cock glides all the way inside, pushing against the walls of my soaking wet vagina, all the way down to his balls.

 

 

After a couple of pumps of his cock, he begins to thrust aggressively. As he pounds my grateful pussy, he grips my throat tighter and I can feel myself slipping over the edge. I twist and tremble as a massive orgasm ripples through my body. My legs shake uncontrollably. I feel myself tightening around his cock as it comes to a pulsating close.

 

 

He fucks me for hours in multiple positions; my legs over his shoulder, on all fours with my ass in the air, he even had me up against the wall. I came numerous times. When he was finally finished with me. I was a hot, quivering mess. My pussy Wrecked but satisfied.

 

 

To be continued