Naughty Bedtime Stories: First Taste Read online

  “Oh god!” I squeaked as I turned to flee. Just as the words sprung from my mouth, I heard my name.

  “Anna…” Oliver grunted heavily.

  The heat of embarrassment flared beneath my skin and I wondered if I could just walk straight back out, without saying a word. I could just go away and die of embarrassment elsewhere.

  “Anna. Will you turn around please?” he spoke the words on a harsh breath.

  “Are you… are you decent?”

  “It’s a bit late for that don’t you think?”

  “I am so sorry I should have knocked. Doreen said you would be out at your meetings.”

  “I cancelled. I was more interested in lying here, thinking about you on the roof.”

  “You were… I …”

  “Anna…” I turned then, his voice so soft and full of imploration. He had made no effort to cover himself or hide his still semi erect cock. It lay there resting against his abdomen, a trail of glistening wetness spread out across his stomach. Oliver didn’t even seem embarrassed that I was seeing this: That I was witness to his private moment.

  “I really should go.”

  “No,” he commanded.

  I stayed glued to the spot unable to move when everything inside was screaming for me to get out before something happened that shouldn’t. I focused on his face and refused to let my eyes wander down his body. I already seemed mesmerised by those droplets of cum that lay across his body. I had dreamed of something similar to this before – only I was the one laid out covered in his essence. The exquisite memory of it brought an excited chill to my spine. My back arced infinitesimally, carrying a fine current of energy simultaneously to my clit and nipples.

  He would notice.

  The uniform was paper-thin and its pale blue colour meant that my stiffened nipples would be evident to him. I knew precisely when he noticed. That look, the one that promised ecstasy - the one that lit a bulb behind his eyes - washed over his face and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lip.

  “Didn’t you hear me moving around out there? Didn’t you think to warn me or leave a note… or something?” I grumbled nervously trying to distract him from saying anything about my obvious arousal.

  “Yes. I heard you.” He smiled. His cool blue eyes seemed to run up and down, taking in every inch of me as he spoke. They always ended at my own eyes though. After every observational sweep, he was right there trying to read my soul. I wished I wasn’t such an open book.

  “If you knew, then why didn’t you lock the door or use your bathroom. You must have realised I would come in here at some point?” It was a strange combination of anger and curiosity driving me to question him now. He seemed so self-assured as though he wanted to get caught. Did the voyeuristic nature of it turn him on? Perhaps he expected me to get involved?

  “I knew.”

  “So, you do this with Tina? Is that what this is… you thought I would be Tina?”

  “No. I knew it was you.” He was grinning now and moving to a seated position at the end of his bed.

  “I don’t understand… I need to go.”

  “Anna, don’t you dare leave,” he warned, but the smile was still on his face, those promises were still in his eyes and, god, did I want to stay.

  I wanted it with all my heart and my traitorous, sex-starved, little body. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t deal with this right now. I was confused and unsure and scared and turned on as hell. I had to get out of here.

  “I need to go.”

  “You always run. Is that your default action? Run away and hope the scary things don’t follow? Stay here and face this, Anna. Stay here and hear me out,” he shouted looking angry and frustrated with me, his earlier smile gone.

  It was the wrong thing to say to me, though, probably because it was true. I was a coward and running away was the only thing I knew. Facing my demons usually meant taking a beating. I knew that wasn’t what Oliver intended, not physically anyway, but I would be beaten in the end. My poor heart wouldn’t survive it. Regardless, I needed to run. Good things don’t happen to people like me.

  “You don’t know the kind of shit I had to run from, Oliver! You have no idea… no idea of what this would do to me,” I shouted.

  “Then stay and tell me. Or will you just ignore me in these the last two days, just like you ignored me for the last four years? Are you aware this may be the only chance we get to make this possible?” he shouted back.

  I was confused.

  What did he mean by that? I hadn’t ignored him. I just hadn’t been able to pick up the courage to speak with him. What was going on and why was I suddenly the one in the wrong?

  "Fuck it all to hell!" I yelled and stormed out of the room slamming both the bedroom and the apartment door behind me. My humiliation carried me down to Doreen’s office, where I yelled in: "I fucking quit!" before trudging back to my room to pack my bags. I had royally screwed up. Not only had I shouted at my boss and thoroughly ruined any chances of a good reference, but also, on a more personal level, I had just walked out on my dreams – perhaps literally.

  Abstractly, like a personal punishment, my mind showed me flashbacks of the whole ordeal whilst I scurried about collecting my things. I had to either laugh or cry, and I was done crying. There was one thing that I took a strange pleasure in: I hadn't noticed at the time, what with me being an idiot and all, but Oliver had called my name as he came. He had purposefully wanted me to see and know that he was thinking of me: Imagining me.

  "What the hell has just happened? You tell me you’ve quit and Oliver Waldron tells me he is handling your exit interview personally. I only bloody sent you up there to collect the dirty laundry not air it all over the shot!" Doreen yelled at me as she stormed through my open door. Her face was huge and purple. She was totally pissed and I immediately felt bad for shouting at her. It wasn’t her fault –the blame was mine.

  "Sorry, Dor, things got a little out of hand and I decided I would be happier leaving now rather than later. I am sorry for shouting at you. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that."

  "Is this in relation to your feelings for Oliver?"

  "Jeez...Does anything get past you?"

  "Nope. However, Anna if that’s what is driving you to go...then rethink it. If you quit, you will forgo the severance and the bonus pay. We both know you will need it to set yourself up."

  "Shit I didn't think of that."

  "I didn’t think so. That’s why I can’t quite recall what you shouted through my door earlier. It sounded to me like; 'Doreen, you are the most wonderful person ever.'"

  "You are and you have great hearing too because that’s exactly what I said." I smiled sheepishly back at the only person who seemed to have my best interests at heart.

  "Good then get a shower and changed into your cleanest uniform. Your exit interview is in thirty minutes, in Oliver’s office."

  “Can’t you interview me? I don’t think I can face him.”

  “Listen after Friday you will never see that man again. No matter what happens now, you can pretty much say or do whatever you want. I can guarantee that he isn’t going to fire you.”

  "You don’t know that.”

  “Well if he does, you can sue him for unfair dismissal.”

  "As if I would!"

  "I know you wouldn’t, but Oliver Waldron doesn’t know that. When it comes to you I don’t think his head is on straight." Doreen gave me a warm, knowing smile. She knew more about this morning than she was letting on.

  “Fine, I will go,” I sulked.

  Doreen reached in and hugged me. Her lavender perfume swarmed around me and filled my head with the scents of the parklands in summer. God what was I going to do without her?

  “Good girl,” she said kindly and walked towards the door to leave. “Oh and Anna,”

  “Hmm?”

  “Sometimes dreams are not just dreams,” she said obscurely before promptly exiting.

  Four

  I knocked at
Oliver’s office door. My hands were clamped into fists in anticipation. I couldn't be sure what he would say after this morning’s debacle.

  "Come in."

  "Mr. Waldron."

  "Please sit, Anna," he pointed to a chair across from his desk.

  The room was stark but functional; there was a huge desk, his high backed chair, a small leather chair for guests, a large sofa against the back wall and a round glass table with a bowl of gummy bears. I hated it. It said nothing about who he was or what he liked. There was no color or personality. It was just an office…apart from the bears; they were all him.

  I sat rigidly in the seat and eyed him warily. Normally I would have dropped my head or avoided eye contact, but not this time. I realized that - other than my ever-present embarrassment - I had the power here. If I didn't like what he had to say, I could leave. If he shouted at me, I could tell him to stuff his job and if he threatened me with a bad reference then I would sue. I held the cards.

  He just didn’t know it yet.

  Oliver lounged back in his chair. It dipped backwards with his weight and he swayed lightly from side to side.

  "Have you enjoyed your time at The Amaria?" he asked.

  "Yes, thank you. I have loved working here. I am grateful for the opportunity," I replied as formally as I could. I was grateful that he avoided discussing this morning. I hadn’t a clue of what to say about it. Even just the thought brought forth images of him naked and firm under his own hand. I needed to focus.

  "What did you like the most?" he asked.

  I answered the question honestly, but noted that he wasn’t writing anything down. There was also a glint in his eye; similar to the look he gave me on the roof that night. My regret from earlier faded slightly at his expression and a small wave of hope crested in my chest. Was it possible that he would still give us another chance? I needed to decide now, what I wanted. I couldn’t risk running away again if it took me by surprise. I stilled the thoughts and questions in my head and focused on an intelligible response.

  "The building, the grounds, the family atmosphere, the pride that ever member of staff pours into their work..."

  "Is there anything you will miss most?" he quizzed cutting across my answer.

  "Is this pertinent to my exit?"

  "No. This is pertinent to me."

  "I don't understand." My heart fluttered in anticipation of what he might say, but his next question seemed more controlled.

  "Do you have any complaints or things you'd like to share? Consider this your last chance to tell me everything you've always wanted to say."

  "Some people have been undue pests but nothing out of the ordinary and after my behavior today, I can't be the judge of others."

  Oliver stood up and walked around the desk, circling behind me. I heard the bowl of gummy bears move and then he spoke again.

  "Anything else to add? Want to explain about earlier for example?"

  "Is it entirely necessary?"

  "I would think it a good idea. I don’t know what is going on in your head, Anna."

  "Look, I lost it. I acted unprofessionally and owe you an apology."

  "For fuck sake, Anna, stop telling me what you think I want to hear and tell me the truth. Tell me what makes you blush when I look at you or what makes you run away when I walk in the room. Do you know I thought you hated me? I thought you were embarrassed that I had seen you at your most desperate. I thought you blamed me of thinking you a charity case - which I don't, by the way. You ignored me, avoided me and then, whenever I did manage to catch your eye, you always looked so hurt."

  "I never hated you. Never. I have always been grateful that you took me in and gave me work. I just couldn't look at you or talk to you or be around you..."

  "Why, Anna? Tell me. I need to hear you say it," he begged earnestly.

  "Because I’m crazy about you. I have the stupidest crush and it is very pathetic, but I also feel like my heart is breaking. Everything I care about is here. This is my home and my family and my dreams... and I’m losing it all!" I yelled at him.

  "You and me both," he sighed ignoring my frustrated outburst.

  I knew he was talking about his losses, but I wondered if he meant more. God, please let him mean more.

  "Anna. It wouldn't have mattered. I have a rule about mixing business and pleasure; specifically I never date my employees."

  "I know. That is the other reason why I never said anything."

  "Okay good." He circled the space again and held out his hand for me to shake. I stood abruptly, sensing my dismissal. The interview, as odd as it had been, was now over.

  I reached out my own hand to his, my fingers almost numb where I had clenched them too hard into fists. He took my hand and held it firmly. His felt smooth against my sandpaper skin.

  "Then I hope you understand that you are fired with immediate effect," he said quickly. I stumbled backwards. The words were as sharp as any physical blow but his hand still held mine. Abruptly, before I could form a word, I was moving again – or was it Oliver who moved? Either way, I was pressed flush against him. One of his hands still clasped mine and the other stroked gently through my hair. His lips though—Oh god—his lips were tracing soft, pillow kisses along my cheekbones, upon the tip of my nose and finally upon my mouth.

  His kiss was pleasure and pain.

  He pressed so deeply into me, I felt sure our skin would merge. I felt his teeth pull at my lower lip trying to tease a response from me. I couldn’t respond. I was in shock. His wandering, stroking hand moved lower and gripped my neck. He pulled back and stared into my eyes; his beautiful blue irises darting between both of mine, in question.

  "Anna? Don't you want this?"

  "Do you?"

  "Fuck yes. You have no idea how much."

  "Why? Why now? Is it because we close on Friday and you’ll never see me again or is it something else?"

  "Are you asking if I am using you for a casual fuck?"

  "No. Yes... Are you?"

  "No, sweetheart. This is something I have wanted for a long time. I just thought you didn't. But this morning, when I watched your reaction to my little display, I hoped…"

  "You hoped?"

  "I hoped you felt the same way."

  "You need to pinch me."

  "What? Why?"

  "Because I am dreaming again; it’s the only way this could be happening. In a minute I am going to be stripped naked and riding you on that sofa over there, and that is okay, because I know that I have fallen asleep somewhere and am in the middle of one of my dreams. But Oliver, I really do have to get to an interview and I’d rather you pinched me before I make myself late again," I whispered utterly convinced I was asleep: Probably on the roof.

  "I’ll tell you what; why don't you strip naked anyway and I can pinch you wherever you like." He grinned. "So you dream of me?"

  I nodded, enjoying the way his fingers pulled gently at the zipper on my skirt. His warm hands moved to my backside, one still enveloping my hand and effectively pinning it to my back. His fingers slipped inside my panties and his nails scraped gently against my soft ass cheek causing me to tremble in his arms. He withdrew, releasing my hand, and pulled my shirt apart causing the buttons to pop and ping around the room.

  "And what do we do in these dreams?" he rumbled at my ear, the bristles of his golden stubble tickling my lobe.

  "You kiss me."

  "Like this?" he asked and brought his lips down upon mine.

  His tongue dipped into my open mouth and explored me eagerly. It caressed my own like a long lost lover, familiarizing himself with every inch of my mouth and tongue. Whilst he kissed me, he pulled my shirt off entirely. I’m not sure where it went or if I would be able to wear it again. I didn't care either way. I was far too busy kissing him back. After all, I was only dreaming. What did it matter if I showed him how I felt?

  I reached down and thumbed at the buttons of his shirt, un-tucking it from his trousers. He pulled it off urgently,
not once breaking the union of our mouths. I tugged at his belt, unbuckling it hastily, and then unclasping the hook beyond. The zipper came down easily and they fell, like a lead weight to his feet. He kicked them away along with his shoes. He wore no underwear.

  He continued to kiss me, each of us only breaking apart for snatches of air and movement. He backed me against a wall and pressed his body close to mine. I felt his heart pounding its staccato rhythm, its erratic beat, in harmony with my own. I felt his stiff nipples against the sheer fabric of my bra. They pushed against mine, eliciting a sting of pain that jolted down to my pussy. I pushed my breasts back at him hoping to feel more, but there was already so much to feel.

  The firm weight of his thighs pinned me and I felt the fluttering of his cock as it bobbed between us. He was so hard. My fingers ran the length of him; up then down again, feeling the taut, silken skin. I lay my palm flat against it and realised, with a breathless hunger, that he was bigger than my hand.

  "Hold me, sweetheart. Grip me," he instructed, his own hands returned the favour at my breasts, which were now exposed to him. He palmed them, pushing up with the heel of his hand and then squeezing down with his fingertips. I groaned in pleasure. My dreams had never felt so good. He dipped his head and captured a nipple. He sucked hard and then gently caressed the solid nub with his velvet tongue before biting and pulling at it with his teeth. Every movement sent more twitches south. My clit throbbed and my panties felt wet to the touch.

  I would be embarrassed if this were really happening.

  Oliver on the other hand seemed overjoyed by my slippery folds. He tore at my underwear till it shredded and fell from my legs. He hitched one of my legs around his waist and then reached under and ran his cool fingers along my slit.

  "Fuck, Anna, you are so wet. Do I make you this wet?”

  "Yes."

  "Do I always make you this wet?"

  "Yes.”

  “Do you want me to taste you? Would you like to feel my tongue at your clit?"

  “Yes...Yes, please, Oliver."

  I thought he might move me to the couch or lay me down on the floor, but he dropped to his knees before me and hooked one leg over his shoulder. He placed a firm hand under my ass and tilted it toward him.