All Chapters of Blackmailing the Boss: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

It's my turn to look him up and down. His chiseled jaw contains just the right amount of facial hair. Since it's more than stubble and less than a beard, I deduce it's the perfect length, meaning it's trimmed and on purpose. He's still in his suit, like all of the ones he wears at the office. As I scan his tall, trim, yet muscular frame, I realize I've never seen him in anything but a suit. The idea of Duncan Willis in jeans or shorts makes my tummy quiver. What does he wear when he sleeps? Does he exercise? What's his favorite color?A million questions come to mind."Kimbra?" He reaches for my chin. "You went away."I swallow, hoping my questions and mental images weren't accompanied by drool. "No, you don't seem fragile. It's just that they can...""I think I'll make it. Will you?""Me? What do you mean?""What were you thinking a second ago?"Warmth fills my cheeks. "I realized I've never seen you in anything but a suit. I wondered what you wear when you sleep, if you exercise, an

I lay the pink rose on the seat opposite me as I consider its meaning.Did she intend it the way I'm taking it? Is that pink rose her acceptance of my invitation?Are we about to seal her membership in the mile-high club?Am I about to have the woman I've long fantasized about?The questions continue as my anticipation reaches epic levels. I'm trying to recall all of the suave things I should say. This isn't my first rodeo, though it feels that way. I've done similar things before, yet I suddenly have no memories. My brain seems unable to function. Synapses misfire or no longer take place. I surmise that it's due to the sudden lack of circulation. My blood is obviously rushing elsewhere. As my dick hardens at record speed, advanced communication, or even discussing the weather, seems currently outside my capability.I can't recall the last time I've been this excited to be with a woman.Maybe this has to do with what Kimbra said the other night at Gaston's. She'd said that easiest isn

If I was hard before, I'm a fucking stone now. Instead of answering, I nod. She smiles and pulls my necktie from its knot. Then, button by button, she opens my shirt. With each second she spends, paying special attention to my cufflinks—why the fuck do I wear those things?—I become more and more uncomfortable. If she takes much longer, I'll explode.By the time my chest is bare, my cock is crying with need.Next she lifts her arms and I raise her blue blouse. Her bra is the same light blue color, matching the small triangle of lace covering her pussy. The lace cups barely cover her big tits as they overflow with mountainous globes. The sight of her in nothing but blue lacy underwear and heels is erotic as hell. Another time I’ll allow myself to enjoy the view, but now I want it all gone.Before I can undo her bra, Kimbra reaches for my belt, the button on my pants, and the zipper. Her forwardness surprises and excites me. For some reason, I'd expected her to be more tentative, but dam

I steady myself in the small but incredibly luxurious bathroom as I finish fixing my hair. The hairdo I had at work can be counted as a casualty of my lifelong membership into the mile-high club. No longer all pulled up, I complete a loose ponytail that rests upon my left shoulder as I smile at my reflection. Never can I recall feeling this relaxed and content on my way back to my family.Putting my lipstick back in my purse, I decide to apply only gloss. Color isn't needed. My lips appear red and swollen on their own, no doubt from all the attention. Even blush isn't needed. My cheeks have their own rosy glow.Maybe I'm not relaxed, but satiated. As the plane moves and I shift, I'm painfully and pleasurably aware that every muscle in my body is tender and happy all at the same time. I’ll call this fantastic ache the spoils of war. Spoils that I'll be happy to collect all weekend.Thankfully, when Marsha said our luggage was loaded, she meant in an area we could access. After I cleane

Fifteen minutes later with the warm afternoon wind blowing my hair, loosening long strands from my newly formed ponytail and causing them to fly around my face and sunglass-covered eyes, we're heading west from the airport, toward the sun and my childhood home. The car Jorge reserved isn't just any car: it's a new black Lexus convertible. The attendant put the top down, perfect for a drive through the country. Now with the sapphire blue sky as our roof, we’re speeding toward the setting sun."My brother is going to flip out at this car," I say as recently planted fields of corn and soy beans soar by on either side of the highway, the baby seedlings popping through the rich, dark soil.Duncan purses his lips to the side. Even with his sunglass-shielded eyes, his funny-face expression is obvious. "I'm glad you like it. I didn't tell Jorge what to rent and this seems a little over the top. I don't want your family to think I'm..." He doesn't finish."To think you're what?""Trying to be