So today I put out this tweet:
Deborah was used to getting what she wanted. So when one Bertram Tigworth Esq told her she was too young to hold his interest she made ready for war.
Too young? She was thirty-two! She’d had her eye on Bertram for quite a while now – he owned a terribly dull looking bookshop in a side street downtown. She knew he used to be a lawyer and his taste in books probably reflected his previous occupation. Not that she really knew for sure, since any tome she’d picked up in his shop was purely used to peer over and admire his immaculate presence. Since he’d given her the brush off, Deborah was determined to have him. She’d never felt such attraction to a man before – he reminded her of her incredibly strict physics teacher at school, who she’d had a huge crush on. She would try her very best to get top marks by flashing him a dazzling smile as she turned in another half hearted essay – it didn’t work then either, he would sigh and pass her back a C- must try harder. And now, fifteen years later, that’s exactly what she intended to do. She put on her most sophisticated pencil skirt and billowing blouse and sauntered past his shop daily, perfecting her Parisian gait. It made her wet just to walk by. Sometimes a trickle of moisture would make it down between her thighs and she’d snake her hips rubbing her juices over the flesh between the top of her legs. On more than one occasion a wolf whistle would come her way from the perpetual workmen and she’d haughtily snub it, glancing quickly to the open door of Tigworth Books behind her Jackie-O sunglasses.
Two weeks and still nothing. Deborah tottered on her heels just out of site of the shop, fucking shoes! she kicked them off and made her way along the pavement in her stockings. The café was always quiet at this time – just before the lunchtime rush.
‘Usual, hon?’ Tony, the owner asked as she sunk into her favourite seat and reached down to massage the ball of her foot.
‘Why won’t he fucking relent?’ she whined as Tony placed the tiny espresso on front of her.
‘What else?’ She was frustrated and horny but on top of it all there was a sting of humiliation. What was she up to? Bertram was right. She wasn’t interesting. All she had to show him was her body. The thought of showing him it brought renewed lust into her panties. The heat was searing between her legs and her skirt was so tight that she couldn’t even open her legs to let air in. She tipped her coffee into her mouth like a shot of tequila and sashayed through to the bathroom. Tony kept his place nice and Deborah stared in the mirror at herself. She looked desperate. She felt desperate. She went into a cubicle and unzipped her skirt pulling it down over her hips. Leaning back into the wall, she smoothed down the fabric of her panties and pressed them against her rising mound. Until this day, she’d resisted, but she’d had enough. He wasn’t going to come out and grab her off the street, take her into the back room and fuck her ferociously. The image seared itself to her mind and she thumped her back into the wall frigging her pussy lips through her knickers. Her nipples rose through her top begging to be nibbled and licked and she rolled them around in with her other hand, pulling and tweaking imagining Bertram’s hot mouth suckling her. She wriggled out of her skirt, kicking it away with her toes and spread her legs wide. She put one foot up on the opposite wall and hauled her panties to the side, sliding her middle finger deep into her soaking cunt.
‘Deborah?’ There was a knock at the door and Tony’s voice called in. ‘Debs, you there?’
‘Course I’m fucking here!’ she gasped, caught off guard and at the completely wrong moment. Her pussy was twitching and clenching around her fingers, she’d been so close. ‘Jeez, Tone, what is it? Can’t a girl have some privacy?’ She held her breath and her pussy and waited for the reply. She felt bad about being so short with Tony – she’d explain later.
‘Well, it’s just that, someone was asking for you.’
‘What?’ Deborah racked her brains, had she arranged anything? Oh god, she hadn’t forgotten about meeting her bloody mother had she? Fine state to be in, this. ‘Who is it?’
‘I dunno, some old grandpa.’ Deborah almost let out a squeak. ‘Want me to get rid of him – looks like a right dullard.’
‘No, no,’ Deborah scuffled about righting her knickers and pulling her skirt back up trying not to snag her seamers. ‘Tell him I’ll be right there.’
The door came softly to a close and Deborah ran to the mirror. She washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face to try and ease the bright red flushing of her cheeks, hoping her sex musk wasn’t too apparent. Who was she kidding? She was wearing it like a thick duvet slung about her shoulders. The guy would have to be sexually dead not to realise what had been going on. She smoothed her hair and sucked at her lips with her teeth. Her lipstick was still in her bag under the table so this would have to do.
She opened to door back into the café as demurely as she could. There he was. Bertram Tigworth Esq sitting at her table with a roguish smile.
‘Take a seat,’ said Deborah primly and slid in opposite him.
‘You win,’ he said.
‘I win what,’ said Deborah trying not to let the trembling show in her voice.
‘You win me. I give in. You’ve got me.’
Deborah was so wrong footed she didn’t know how to play her hand. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she spluttered.
‘See this is why I don’t entertain girls,’ Bertram suddenly looked bored and made like he was about to leave. ‘At least own it, for god’s sake. At the very least, own your seduction.’ He got up and Deborah felt humiliated.
‘I,’ she started, but gave up. She’d almost had him but he’d been right. She was just a girl. At thirty-bloody-two, not yet a woman.
He started walking to the door with his perfect hand-made suit and Italian leather shoes and lush silvering hair and Deborah was furious with herself. Then he paused. He suddenly came storming back to the table and grabbed her hand.
‘I think it’s time you grew up,’ he said and pulled her to her feet.
‘Wait, my shoes.’ She hooked her toes into her heels and flipped them on while he tugged impatiently at her hand. She glanced up and to her excitement saw the unmistakable bulge of what looked like quite a substantial erection through his suit trousers. ‘Oh my,’ she breathed and stumbled to standing. He marched her briskly out of the café and straight to the bookshop.
There was already a closed sign on the door and he yanked her inside and slammed her up against it.
‘You want to play with the big boys do you?’ he snarled lavasciously into her ear and pressed his cock against her. She was startled and delighted at this aggressive streak.
‘Yes,’ she whispered and her pussy melted and quivered with anticipation of what was to come.
Again, he dragged her roughly, past the packed shelves to a back office with the most clichéd and perfect writing desk Deborah had ever seen. Oh my god, it was exactly how she’d imagined it. Framed certificates on the walls, fountain pens, carriage clocks, the whole thing. She almost giggled in delight.
‘Are you sure you want this?’ His steely eyes softened for a split second and Deborah nodded, her eyes huge with excitement. ‘Then bend over.’
What? He was just going to lift her skirt and fuck her from behind? Just like that? Deborah couldn’t believe it. If that’s what real men did, then she’d been a real woman for years. She sighed and leaned over the huge desk and let her fingers roam over the embossed green leather surface. What a fucking cliché. She heard him unbuckle his belt and she reached round to unzip her skirt. Might as well get it over with. His hand covered hers firmly.
‘No, leave it.’ He lifted her hand back onto the desk and held it there, hard. Deborah’s heart seemed to anticipate a move and fluttered excitedly. There was going to be more to this than a quickie from behind then? She heard the jangle of the buckle again and imagined him maneuvering it with one hand, maybe using his teeth to get it just where he wanted. She clenched her pussy walls together and felt the heat spread all the way from her ass to her clit. She ground herself into the edge of the desk and spread her legs as best she could in her tight skirt. The gentlest of touches caressed her buttocks and she let herself relax a little and sank into her heels. It must have been the moment he was waiting for, and thwack! Deborah heard the leather strike her ass before she felt it. It stung, and she yelped in shock.
‘What the…?’ she started but Bertram put his hand over her mouth. She breathed through her nose and kept squeaking and holding fast onto the other edge of the desk. Her hair was caught in his hand and covered her face and eyes. Thwack! A second blow rocked her to the core. Her ass was burning already and she had no idea how many were to come. Thwack, she bounced into the desk and sticky wetness seeped from her throbbing pussy down into the fleshy pillows that met her panties. She felt her pussy lips swell and ache with strange new feral desire. Thwack, a low groan growled from her throat, a noise she’d never heard from herself before. Oh god, no more, she thought her skirt would burst into flames. Thwack, she was burning up all over now and his hand still over her mouth began probing between her lips, easing open her teeth into her mouth, seeking her tongue. She sucked at his fingers hungrily and wantonly taking them deep into her mouth and throat, licking and biting as he groaned too. She braced herself for another smack, clenched everything, but none came. He pulled away from her mouth and stood behind her. Her pussy was so hot, so, so hot and wet, she’d never felt this turned on before. She sensed Bertram crouching behind her and shivered as he began to massage her ankles then calves with the most tender of touches. He went slowly higher to the backs of her knees and paused there, making her squirm with the new sensation. He reached up under the hem of her skirt to the tops of her stockings until his fingers met her searing flesh. ‘Mmmm,’ she groaned and rocked her hips back towards him as his fingers reached her panties. For the briefest of seconds a finger probed at her soaking entrance and she gasped. He must be amazed at her wetness. She tried to slide back further on to his digit but he pulled away tantalisingly and withdrew his arm from under her skirt.
He began to pull it up over her thighs and she panicked, it would never go. It was a pull downer, not a pull upper! She felt him reach over her and grab something from a pot beside her shoulder. She turned her head to see him with a rather sinister looking letter opener and she froze in horror. What the fuck? She was too aroused and terrified to say anything – and just gripped more tightly to the desk. She felt the cold flash of metal at the back of her leg then the sound of fabric tearing. Oh thank god, she sank her head onto the desk and let a wave of unspent adrenaline course through her as the letter opener fell to the ground and her skirt was grasped with two hands and torn apart up to the waistband.
Deborah felt the silken feathery touch of his rod being swept over her still hot buttocks. Again, she rocked back into her heels, inviting him in. Still he resisted. He cupped one of her ass cheeks in his palm and held it there, as if sizing up the job. She tried to peek around, catch a glimpse of his face but he quickly grabbed her hair and pushed her face away, holding her there.
‘It’s ok,’ she murmured, ‘I won’t look.’
‘Shhh,’ he growled and let go of her hair, shoving his hand over her mouth, with his other still resting firmly on her behind. Deborah suddenly had the urge to clench tight and just in time for another thwack landed heavily on her bare flesh. If it stung before, Deborah had no words to describe this pain. She just bit her teeth together and shrieked into the Bertram’s hands. Thwack! She took deep breaths through her nose trying not to panic at the tearing pain shooting through her bottom. It must be so red, so red and swollen. Thwack! Suddenly, the feeling changed, Deborah had a mental image of her bright red burning ass straining through her suspenders and torn aside panties. She saw herself, a wanton hussy, pussy pouting and throbbing while this gentleman leered at his creation. Her pussy welled and soared with want and wetness. Thwack! She wriggled her hips and spread her legs so wide that the desk took her full weight and only the tips of her toes touched the floor. Thwack, she didn’t scream this time and he let go of her mouth, positioning himself low behind her. She waiting for soothing kisses on her raw flesh but winced as he trailed his jaw, sharp with stubble over her buttocks. Just once.
‘I’m sorry,’ he tenderly stroked her, ‘I couldn’t resist.’ She felt anger rise along with her deeper desire and was about to stand up and give him a taste of his own medicine right across his stubbly face, when he spread her ass and plunged his tongue deep into her desperate cunt.
‘Oh fuck!’ she exclaimed as he slid down to her clit and burrowed two fingers deep into her. She stared open mouthed and panting as he lapped at her bud and corkscrewed his fingers in and out, her sex juice pouring from her. Her breasts pressed against the leather through her blouse but she needed more; she let go of the edge of the desk and ripped her blouse open allowing her tits to tumble out onto the cool leather, grazing her nipples satisfyingly. She started to fall into the tunnel vision of her rising climax and held her breath, when he stopped. What? He was a bad man after all, she decided. Her pussy was left suckling and clenching and she could have wept in frustration when, thwack! His cock rammed deep into her with a spank thrown in for good measure. He withdrew immediately and dove straight back in slamming her pelvis into the wood. She pushed back as hard and she could, clenching and pushing, matching him thrust for thrust. His rhythm quickened and Deborah panicked, not yet! As if reading her mind, Bertram reached round to her ripe bud and pressed it with a strange hypnotic slowness, around and around in total contrast to the battering ram fucking her wildly from behind. It was blindingly fierce and strange and her orgasm grew steadily way past the usual point of explosion. Deborah breathed in time with the rolling pressure on her clit taking the oxygen deep, filling her body with air. With huge force, she came hard and bucked and twitched as she felt the rising gush of Bertram’s come filling her slick burning hole. It was the first time, the very first time, she realized, that she hadn’t been holding her breath when she came. Bertram fell on top of her, panting and laughing softly. Deborah let go of the tension in her legs and sank into the desk, shaking. She laughed softly with him.
Deborah was used to getting what she wanted.
I hope this was Bookshoppy enough Cousin P 😀
The full paperback is available here