Locked Down with Mr. Right

Laying me down, the polished hardwood table was cold against my nearly bare back, having much the same effect as the stone floor on my feet. It was like the entire room was designed to arouse the senses. Taking up the nearest chair, Tobias gently cradled my left foot. I was about to ask what he was doing, but the question turned into a moan on its way from my brain to my mouth.

Tobias was wonderfully massaging my foot in both of his soft, strong hands. I could feel every muscle in my body relaxing. My legs parted by themselves, the cool air reaching my inner thighs.

Tobias tended the same treatment to my left foot, working me to a near frenzy, my pussy aching for him. Not leaving me in my suffering, Tobias ran his hands up my legs, disappearing up the hem of my dress. Gently taking the sides of my panties between his fingers, he pulled them slowly down, giving me another long caress from hips to feet, laying them beside me on the table.

Placing my ankles on his shoulders, he pushed my skirt up around my hips, unveiling my ready pussy. Stroking it a few times to get me used to the contact, he lowered his head between my quivering thighs and placed a long, gentle lick the length of my pussy, lightly spiralling the very tip of his tongue on my clit. I moaned so loudly that it echoed off the high walls.

Giving me a few more licks, he turned to hard spirals, covering every inch of my pussy going the other way. Covering all the bases, I guess. Not that I was about to complain. I gasped slightly as he introduced a finger, slipping it easily inside me. He licked me hard, hitting all the right spots as he worked me deep, coaxing me to a massive, body-rocking orgasm. My mind went blank in a blast of pure white light.

I really could have cried. What might well have been the most beautiful moment of my life, interrupted by the all too familiar ping of a text notification. I was already with Tobias, beautiful Tobias, and Mercy always called. Which really only left one option.

“Bastard,” Tobias spoke, getting to my phone before I could.

“What did he say?”

“Cutting out the insults to both of us, he is threatening to go to the show and tell them about our relationship. He must have some sort of spyware software on your phone or computer. He seems to know everything that I’ve been doing.”

“Fuck. What are you writing?”

“Who I am and that his pathetic threats are completely empty, seeing as I am the show and any emails to the producer of the show would go directly to me. It was a condition of me taking over the production.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll protect you. I promise.”

Putting my phone back in my purse, he scooped me up superhero style and kissed me softly as he carried me toward the stairs.

The bed was amazing. It was a massive Edwardian four-post specimen, complete with a curtain going all the way around it, which were open at the time. Setting me down on the edge of the bed, much like he had with the table, he took down the thin straps of the dress, caressing my shoulders in the process.

The dress made wearing a bra pretty much untenable. With my panties still laid neatly on the table and my shoes by the door, I was very much naked, sitting on the edge of the beautiful bed as Tobias stood over me like a benevolent force. I had expected him to get right down to business, which made it even more surprising, to the point of a soft gasp, when he caressed his hands back up the length of my body and took hold of my face. Bending at the waist so we were even, Tobias kissed me. Gentle pecks at first, escalating into open mouth Frenching. His hands never leaving my face as he did so.

Pulling back so he could meet my eyes, he took both of my hands by the wrist and placed them on his tasteful leather belt. Willing my fingers not to tremble, I worked the buckle loose. Leaving both sides hanging, I stared at the button and fastener combo found on all good dress pants. The easiest part was the zipper, his pants moving easily down his legs, the Bruno Mali’s he was known for sat beside my Flapper heels by the door.

His cock pressed against the inside of his silk boxer shorts, yearning to break free in the long dark tea-time of the soul. I left it where it was for a moment as I started on the buttons of his matching Crimson silk shirt. It was a sudden and deep relief that I had never seen him wear a tie. Instead, he opted to have the top two buttons of his luxurious, and apparently color-coded, shirts open.