Bad Manners - Single Mom Fake Fiance Office Romance

“Ann Howell,” he said, eyes full of what looked like sincerity, “you have made me so happy, and I am wondering if you would add further to my joy by agreeing to become my wife.”

He opened the box, revealing my great-grandmother’s wedding ring, bequeathed to me on the off chance I should get married. I think it was partly meant to be a twisted form of encouragement.

“Yes!” I nearly shouted, the tears in my eyes very much real.

Russ took the diamond ring from the box, gently slipping it onto my finger, looking seductively into my eyes. We got one of the waiters to take some pictures on my phone so there would be photographic evidence, and a lot of the other patrons broke into applause. I really loved the attention, and Russ looked so good next to me.

The spell was shattered when his phone went off, and of course, he checked it.

“Sorry, have to go,” Russ said, standing up pocketing the phone as he did so.

“W-what?” I asked, the shock not yet having set in.

“Emergency, you understand,” he said, putting on his coat.

“I – uh – of course,” I stammered, still taken aback by the suddenness.

Before I could say anything, Russ was gone like he had never been there before. As though we had planned it, this was the precise moment that the waiter came back with the food.

“Will you be eating alone, madam?” the waiter asked, as unflappable as one might expect.

“No,” I said, bravely fighting off the tears.

I refused to admit defeat. It was crushing, yes, but I refused to let it get to me. Instead, I paid the bill.

“Wrap it up,” I said, giving the waiter a sizeable tip.

“Right away, madam!” he said, rushing off.

It was the first time in a long time I was actually able to wrangle a babysitter — a feat almost akin to herding cats. I was determined not to go home. Not yet, at least. There was only one other place I could think of where I would be comfortable.

Chapter Seven

Ann

Managing to get the surprisingly large to-go bags up the five flights of stairs, I settled into my chair. Most of the food was still warm, so I didn’t have to use the microwave in the staff room. Pasta and steak wasn’t a combination I had ever thought of before, but they actually went together pretty well. I wished I’d ordered some wine which would have topped it off perfectly.

Remembering the bottle of Crown Royal in my safe, I crossed the room. Retrieving the oddly shaped decanter, I poured out a finger and brought it back over to the desk. The burn of the alcohol was lovely as it ran down my throat. Though it didn’t stop there.

A distinctly warm sensation started up in my pussy as I remembered the bulge I had seen in Russ’s pants. His huge, heavy cock had been yearning to break free. I licked my lips, thinking about it.

Daydreaming, I thought about what it might be like to have Russ in my office like he had already been, his hard, aching cock in front of me, desperate for my loving touch. My hand found its way up my bare thigh as I imagined wrapping my hand around the bulk of his shaft —my fingers barely fitting around it — slowly stroking him and focusing on the sensitive tip.

I imagined my breath quickening as I slowly lowered my head, planting soft, wet kisses on his cock as I slipped my hand into my panties. Softly working my pussy lips, I imaged licking and sucking his balls as I continued to stroke Russ’s shaft. He let out a soft moan of pleasure. One that only got more intense when I ran my tongue back off his shaft and dropped my hot little mouth over the end of his hard, throbbing cock and started sucking. Gently at first, then slowly gaining in speed and depth.

I slid two fingers into my wet pussy as I imagined pumping his cock in and out of my mouth, getting a little more than halfway down his magnificent member before the head started to brush the back of my throat. Asserting myself, I got him in even further, deep throating until his balls were nearly at my lips.

Clamping his hand masterfully on the back of my head, I imagined Russ unloading into my mouth, making me swallow it all down, which I did with gusto. After helping me clean up, he then pulled me to my feet and ripped open both my blouse and my bra — buttons flying everywhere.

With his hands firmly on my shoulders, holding me still, he dove into my chest, licking and sucking the soft flesh and working his way down to my rock-hard nipples. Taking one into his mouth, Russ sucked hard, spiraling his tongue around it as he did so. I ran my fingers through his hair to urge him on, nearly coming from the sensation.