Everything was in place. It was the right time of month for her and the scene was set. Her ‘quarry’ so to speak was in the net. All she had to do was reel him in and get what she needed, hopefully as many times as possible. She felt hot and bothered just thinking about what she was planning. She firmly tamped down her feelings of guilt. She was after all using Jason as an unknowing donor, but she had wanted a baby for so long, and she hated the thought of conceiving in a glass dish, without knowing at all what the father was like.
Certainly she didn’t want said father cluttering up her life, nor the baby’s life, not with her crazy relationship with her own father as a blueprint. The few disastrous relationships she had, had firmly cemented her opinion that her mother was absolutely right, men could not be trusted. She had shied away from involvements, downplaying her looks and had immersed herself in her work. There had not been a man in her life for a long time, and she had no desire to be involved anyway.
She shoved her unpleasant memories into the little corner of her mind she had allotted them, and determinedly set about getting ready for her big night.
Emma was having a full blown panic attack. It was five forty five, and she was as ready as she could be, freshly bathed, creamed, perfumed and made up. Her dress, if it could be called a dress was a mere slip of slinky black silk. The front was deceptively modest with a high neckline, but the shimmering fabric clung lovingly to her luscious curves. Tiny capped sleeves caressed her upper arms, and thin spaghetti straps criss- crossed down her bare back ending at the base of her narrow waist, with a pair of naughty beaded tassels that literally begged to be pulled open. Thankfully it wasn’t super short, and came down almost to her knees in softly flowing fabric. Her feet were encased in strappy rhinestone studded black sandals.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Emma moaned in pleasure. Her whole body throbbed and pulsed with white hot heat. She flung her arms around his neck and plunged whole-heartedly into the kiss, sensuously wiggling her pert bottom on his by now rock hard thighs.
She clung tightly as he attempted to move his delectable mouth off of hers and nipped and nibbled, not wanting to give him a chance to speak just yet, not when she was having so much fun.
When they finally surfaced from the wild embrace, there were a good many buttons open on their respective clothing. Jason’s hands were back on her breast, cupping the trembling, tender flesh and gently flicking her puckered aroused flesh with his thumbs. Her bra had somehow disappeared.
“What do you want from me Emma Smith?” he asked.
“You know my name?” she gasped.
“I can read very well you know,” he said sardonically, nodding towards the nameplate on her desk.
“Oh, of course,” she agreed, mortified. “Would you mind telling me yours?”
“Do you always accost strangers like this?” his eyebrow had quirked most wickedly. The man was eyeing her like she was a weird specimen in a museum. “Jason Johnson, at your service.” His hands seemed to continue caressing her all by themselves.
Emma wondered if it would be at all appropriate to shake his hand at this point, considering where it had already been and all. She was also quite reluctant to have him stop his wonderful petting.
“You want to play some more, Jason?” she asked throatily. She played with the soft springy hair on his well muscled chest as she spoke. Might as well make him think she was a bimbo, she decided. It was too late to act sophisticated anyway.
Jason’s face openly reflected his doubts as he stared at her. ‘ I know you are up to something’ he seemed to be saying. They were still stroking each other, gently but steadily stoking the flames of passion. Gradually his face cleared, as if he had made up his mind.
“I’ll see you after work,” he lifted her off his lap, and set her firmly on her feet. “Six o’clock, across the street from the office.”
He unhurriedly fixed his damp clothing, flicked a hand thru his disarrayed hair, and after sketching her a mocking salute he was gone.
Emma couldn’t believe how well the scene had played out. She was far enough gone to forget her state of undress. She hugged herself and twirled around and around, nearly beside herself with excitement. Her instincts told her it would happen. Her dream was finally within reach.
At twenty seven years of age, her biological clock was ticking loudly. Now she was finally on her way to having her very own baby! And by then, Mr. Dad would conveniently be long gone from the scene, far, far away and none the wiser.
Everything was in place. It was the right time of month for her and the scene was set. Her ‘quarry’ so to speak was in the net. All she had to do was reel him in and get what she needed, hopefully as many times as possible.
She clung tightly as he attempted to move his delectable mouth off of hers and nipped and nibbled, not wanting to give him a chance to speak just yet, not when she was having so much fun.
When they finally surfaced from the wild embrace, there were a good many buttons open on their respective clothing. Jason’s hands were back on her breast, cupping the trembling, tender flesh and gently flicking her puckered aroused flesh with his thumbs. Her bra had somehow disappeared.
“What do you want from me Emma Smith?” he asked.
“You know my name?” she gasped.
“I can read very well you know,” he said sardonically, nodding towards the nameplate on her desk.
“Oh, of course,” she agreed, mortified. “Would you mind telling me yours?”
“Do you always accost strangers like this?” his eyebrow had quirked most wickedly. The man was eyeing her like she was a weird specimen in a museum. “Jason Johnson, at your service.” His hands seemed to continue caressing her all by themselves.
Emma wondered if it would be at all appropriate to shake his hand at this point, considering where it had already been and all. She was also quite reluctant to have him stop his wonderful petting.
“You want to play some more, Jason?” she asked throatily. She played with the soft springy hair on his well muscled chest as she spoke. Might as well make him think she was a bimbo, she decided. It was too late to act sophisticated anyway.
Jason’s face openly reflected his doubts as he stared at her. ‘ I know you are up to something’ he seemed to be saying. They were still stroking each other, gently but steadily stoking the flames of passion. Gradually his face cleared, as if he had made up his mind.
“I’ll see you after work,” he lifted her off his lap, and set her firmly on her feet. “Six o’clock, across the street from the office.”
He unhurriedly fixed his damp clothing, flicked a hand thru his disarrayed hair, and after sketching her a mocking salute he was gone.
Emma couldn’t believe how well the scene had played out. She was far enough gone to forget her state of undress. She hugged herself and twirled around and around, nearly beside herself with excitement. Her instincts told her it would happen. Her dream was finally within reach.
At twenty seven years of age, her biological clock was ticking loudly. Now she was finally on her way to having her very own baby! And by then, Mr. Dad would conveniently be long gone from the scene, far, far away and none the wiser.
Everything was in place. It was the right time of month for her and the scene was set. Her ‘quarry’ so to speak was in the net. All she had to do was reel him in and get what she needed, hopefully as many times as possible.
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