We’ve all got one. The ex who betrayed us. But this girl wanted revenge, and Lady Luck stepped in to make sure she got it. There’s nothing quite like being in total control of a situation – or of a man who deserves no better. I admit, even I was pretty shocked at first when she confided in me. But he got off on it, and I’m sure you will, too. I did.
THE WIDE, WHITE, sandy beach seemed to stretch on for ever. Amanda stepped out of her luxury beachside villa, gingerly placing a bare, bronzed foot onto the sand. Yesterday the beach had been too hot to walk on, but this morning, with the red sunrise just peeking above the horizon, it was gorgeously warm. Behind her, palm trees swayed against the deliciously reddening sky. The grains felt smooth as silk against her skin as Amanda padded down to the water’s edge, where milk-white foam lapped at her beautifully manicured toes.
She’d come on holiday to get away from it all, and in Amanda’s case that meant escaping from memories of him. Andrew. After a year together, she’d called it off. Admittedly, the last couple of months hadn’t been great – and he’d seemed distant and unwilling in bed – but she never dreamed he was screwing his PA. Until the night when her curiosity got the better of her. Two weeks ago. Something was up, Amanda knew that, and when he’d dashed out to the off licence and accidentally left his phone on her kitchen table, she hadn’t been able to resist having a look.
He’d deleted all his messages, except one. It hadn’t even been opened yet. From his secretary. Trusting, loyal Lois. She’d been working for Andrew for as long as he and Amanda had been together. He ran his own small business, so the team was close-knit. Amanda didn’t think there was anything to worry about where Lois was concerned. Lois was a damn good PA but she was also a pale-skinned redhead: ‘So not my type,’ Andrew had claimed casually on more than one occasion.
For a moment, Amanda had replaced the phone on the table, guilty that she’d suspected him, guilty that she’d even think about reading his messages. Then she’d snatched it up and hit ‘read’. Her heart skipped a beat.
‘Can’t wait 2 fuck u 2nite,’ it read. ‘See u usual place & time? Love ya, L.’
There had to be a mistake, Amanda had decided. Lois must have sent the message by accident. Andrew said she had a boyfriend. She’d be embarrassed when she realised she’d sent it to her boss and follow up with an apologetic text, surely?
But something at the back of her mind got the better of Amanda. The message had been sent at least ten minutes ago and no follow-up ‘oops, not meant for you’ text had turned up. She had to be sure. So she hit ‘reply’ and typed in:
‘Cool. What r u gonna do 2 me, then?’
Then she’d paced up and down, guilty as hell, panicking like crazy, wishing she hadn’t sent it. Lois would see the message was from Andrew. What if she was wrong about this? Lois would realise her mistake, and maybe apologise to him tomorrow. Or even worse, phone him right now to apologise. Or, even worse again, Lois might think he was up for it.
Suddenly there was a ping. Message received. From Lois. Amanda had hit ‘read’, wondering how on earth she could explain all this to Andrew. And in a split second, she’d realised she wouldn’t have to.
‘Gonna fuck u the way Amanda never does,’ came the reply. ‘Just how u like it. Your hard cock in my arse.’
She’d dropped the phone on the tiled floor, her whole body trembling with shock. How could he do this to her? Images of Andrew and Lois played in her head like a video stuck on auto repeat. Amanda sank down on the cold tiles, too shocked to cry or even to feel. She was still sitting there, numb, when Andrew arrived back home.
‘Hello, darling,’ he’d called. ‘Just had a text from the office. I’ve got to pop home for half an hour. Pick up some papers for tomorrow. Bloody PA has forgotten something. Won’t be long . . .’
His voice had tailed away as he saw Amanda on the floor, his phone beside her.
‘Oh my God,’ he’d whispered, snatching up his phone, his eyes scanning the last message. ‘Amanda, I . . .’
She hadn’t waited to hear what he’d got to say. ‘Get out, Andrew,’ she’d muttered, her teeth gritted in anger. ‘Go fuck Lois. Go and enjoy her arse. And don’t ever, ever call me again.’
Amanda had downed most of a bottle of vodka that night. Then, next morning, with the hangover from hell, she’d walked straight into the travel agents and put herself on the first flight to the Caribbean. She wanted Andrew – and every memory of him – out of her life for good.
So here she was, staying in a luxury villa in Antigua, an island which boasted a beach for every day of the year. The first couple of days had been tough, grovelling texts and calls that she ignored from Andrew begging her to hear him out and ‘talk things over’. As if. And she’d had a fair bit of explaining to do down the phone to her boss. But by the third day, Amanda was starting to soak up the whole laid-back Caribbean vibe. She met a few people at the bar – all of them couples, but good to chat to – and began to relax and enjoy herself. Amanda spent her days soaking up the sun by the pool, and as she rubbed the warm oil into her bronzed thighs on the fifth day she felt horny for the first time since that evening. Even the mental image of Andrew fucking Lois didn’t dampen her sexy mood.
The pool area was busy, but not crowded, and Amanda was sunbathing on her front, letting the hot Caribbean sun beat down on her back, a Sea Breeze cocktail at her side. Across the pool, one of the married guys she’d met earlier was about to dive in. He was in his late 20s, posh, but with his longish blond hair and male-model looks he resembled an archetypal boy-band member. She looked at his fit, toned body, the muscular curve of his tanned legs, the soft bulge in his trunks telling her that his cock was bigger than average. Bigger than Andrew’s, she smiled to herself, thinking of his long, thin dick and deciding that he’d never been much good in bed. He’d made her come every time, but he’d never really driven her wild. That was why, when he’d suggested anal, quite soon after they’d first fucked, she’d not been up for it. He just didn’t turn her on enough.
This married guy was off-limits, Amanda knew that. But surely it didn’t do any harm to look. She picked up a novel and pretended to read it, occasionally peering over her Dior sunglasses to glimpse him as he dived in the pool, or, even better, as he got out. Like Daniel Craig, as 007, in those blue trunks, but even better. In fact, in her mind, boy-band man was called ‘Daniel’. Each time he emerged, water droplets sliding down his oiled body, his blond hair pushed back, Amanda felt herself get just that little bit wetter.
Eventually she had to go back to the villa. When she’d first read that text on Andrew’s phone, she couldn’t ever imagine feeling horny again. But the last few days in the sun had restored her urges. She closed the bright blue shutters and lay down on the bed in the cool, air-conditioned room, one hand probing gently inside her bikini bottoms while the other massaged her left nipple. Outside, the sun was setting, casting its reddish glow through the gaps in the shutters, and the delicious smell of barbecue floated in on the warm breeze, bringing with it the sound of steel drums down at the bar. Amanda felt completely relaxed and chilled out.
Just then, an image of Andrew came into her head, his thin cock pushed deep into Lois’s arse, and instead of ruining the moment, it made Amanda feel even hornier. She made a V-shape with her fingers and slid them either side of her swollen clit, squeezing and massaging gently until her tiny bikini bottoms were soaked. In her mind, Amanda was in a five-star hotel bedroom, naked, lying on a sumptuous sheepskin rug. Beside her, ‘Daniel’, too, was naked, with a full-on erection, but they weren’t touching. They caressed each other with their eyes, drinking in every inch of their bronzed, tanned skin.
Amanda’s fantasy filled her mind. In it, the wetness seeped from her pussy on to the rug, and she squirmed with pleasure, squeezing her clit, longing for Daniel to touch her. Anywhere. He took an ice cube from the cocktail beside him and traced it around her nipple, the freezing sensation driving her wild. A drop of melting ice slid down her tit and Daniel quickly, greedily sucked at it, before sliding the ice cube between her breasts and down over her navel, pausing to circle her navel before moving it slowly into her pubic hair.
‘Rub my clit,’ she breathed. ‘Rub the ice on my clit.’
Daniel obeyed instantly, sliding the ice cube down between her pussy lips and straight on to her bud, vibrating it sideways with his fingers. She gasped, as melting ice mingled with her juices, and suddenly into her fantasy came Andrew. He was naked, alone, and he kneeled beside her, masturbating, or trying to, but his cock was still limp. ‘Please take me back,’ he begged. Everything about the scenario had Amanda in total control, and she loved it.
‘Not a chance, Andrew,’ she replied, as Daniel pushed the ice cube into her pussy and began to work her clit with his tongue, running it rapidly up and down her slit.
‘Help me, baby,’ Andrew begged, taking her hand and trying to place it on his soft cock. ‘I can’t come without you.’
Amanda pulled her hand away and pressed her back deep into the sheepskin rug. In reality, she was on the double bed in her villa, legs stretched wide apart, masturbating herself rougher and faster than she’d done for ages, and groaning so loud that the couple next door wondered if the single English girl had got someone in there. But in her mind she was on that sheepskin rug, with Andrew watching, helpless, as waves of orgasm crashed over her, her entire body writhing and jerking with intense pleasure. Then she rolled over onto all fours and thrust her arse towards Daniel.
‘You never turned me on enough.’ She smiled cruelly at Andrew, as Daniel eased his thick cock inside her.
Afterwards, Amanda was quite shocked by what she’d fantasised. She hadn’t realised just how angry Andrew had made her feel, or that a hint of domination could turn her on so much. And she felt sure she’d never, ever be able to do anything like that in reality. But knowing that she could imagine herself fucking other people, moving on without Andrew, felt good. She’d had one hell of an orgasm, though she blushed scarlet the next time she saw her ‘Daniel’ by the pool.
By the time Amanda stepped off the plane at Gatwick, tanned, relaxed and looking fabulous, she was all set to kick-start her new life. First, she cleared out her flat and threw out anything that reminded her of Andrew, including three letters on her doormat, and deleted several answerphone messages asking her to meet so they could talk.
Next, she joined the local health club, changed her mobile number and filled her diary with girls’ nights out. And last, but not least, she started scanning the papers and internet for job ads. Amanda wanted a fresh start in every area of her life. Maybe somewhere out of London, she wasn’t sure. Another UK city? Or somewhere else in the world? She was up for anything. And it was while scanning those job ads late one night that she saw it.
‘Urgently wanted,’ it read. ‘PA to managing director. Immediate start. Experience essential. Please email or fax your CV asap.’ And underneath was Andrew’s company logo.
Maybe he’d sacked Lois. Maybe she’d walked out. Whatever the reason, Andrew was desperate. A plan began to form in Amanda’s mind. So he wanted to talk, did he? Well, she’d show him just how far she’d moved on with her life. And she’d get an apology. He owed her that.
Opening her laptop, Amanda began typing out the perfect PA’s CV, with a fake name – ‘Jane’ – and address on it. She knew exactly what Andrew would do. He’d be so desperate – and impressed by her fake list of jobs – that he’d call her mobile straightaway. He wouldn’t bother to check out her references until after an interview. Then she could put her plan into action. She wanted to take him by surprise and force him to apologise.
Next morning, Amanda faxed the CV, marked ‘urgent’, with a note to contact her by text as it was difficult to talk in the office. Just as she’d anticipated, her mobile beeped half an hour later. He wanted her to come in for an interview after work. Now she needed to make sure his office was empty.
‘Working late,’ she texted back. ‘Be there 8pm. Jane.’
At 7.45pm, Amanda left her office, dressed in her best business suit – black knee-length straight skirt, waist-hugging jacket, cream silk shirt buttoned up to the neck, black stockings and skyscraper black heels. Her blonde hair was tied up in a smart chignon, a slick of liquid kohl lined her smoky grey eyes, her lips a glossy red, and her long nails perfectly painted in dark ruby.
A security guard on the main desk buzzed Andrew. ‘Tell him Jane is here,’ she snapped, feeling more dominant and in control by the second.
‘He says go up to the fourth floor,’ the security guard replied, pointing to the lift.
Amanda jabbed the button and the elevator began to rise. A strange mixture of elation and nervousness swept over her. She wanted to end this relationship on her terms.
The lift shuddered to a halt and the doors slid open. Andrew was standing there, ready to greet her. Behind him, the entire open-plan office was deserted.
‘Amanda!’ he gasped. ‘What are you doing here? Can you hang on a bit? I’ve got someone to interview.’
‘I don’t need to wait,’ she snapped. ‘I’m the one who sent you the CV. I’ve got a few things to say to you. In your office. Now!’
Amanda strode past him towards his glass-walled office, Andrew following meekly behind. With a sideways glance at the PA’s empty desk, imagining him fucking Lois over it, she pushed open Andrew’s door and sat down in his black leather chair. He stood across the desk in front of her.
‘First,’ she began, ‘I want to tell you you’re a total bastard.’
‘Amanda, I . . .’
‘I don’t want to hear any of your excuses,’ she snapped, drumming her red nails loudly on the glass table. Andrew shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. ‘But I do want to hear you say you’re sorry. Then I can forget about us and move on with my life. Say it! Apologise!’
‘I’m sorry, Amanda.’
Her eyes were level with his crotch, and to her utter surprise Amanda saw the beginnings of an erection. But what surprised her even more was her own swelling clitoris and a warm dampness on her black ribbon-tie thong. She’d never dominated anyone before, and she was loving it.
‘You’re pathetic,’ she snapped. ‘Getting a hard-on just from looking at me. Apologise again!’
‘I’m sorry, Amanda,’ he repeated, his cock swelling even larger.
‘You want to ram that dick hard inside me, don’t you?’ she went on. ‘Shoot your spunk into my arse.’
Andrew’s erection swelled to full height, a massive bulge straining at his trousers. Automatically, he slid one hand in his pocket. Adrenaline – and lust – flooded through every vein in Amanda’s body. He was getting off on her dominating him. Better still, so was she. This hadn’t been part of the plan. But she couldn’t stop now.
‘Take that hand out!’ barked Amanda. ‘You were going to wank yourself off, weren’t you, you prick? You do not touch yourself until I tell you to. You do not speak unless I say so.’
She stood up, her swollen clit aching for attention, and strode round to his side of the desk, her body just inches away from him. Andrew’s eyes were locked on hers, a spark of pure lust there that she’d never seen before. Silently, she undid his belt and zip so his trousers dropped to the floor, revealing his tall, thin dick straining at his boxers. He groaned with pleasure as she roughly tugged his underwear over his cock, bending down so her glossy red lips were just an inch away.
‘Shut up,’ she snapped in response to his moans, glancing with disdain at the engorged veins standing out on his darkening cock. Amanda took off her jacket and threw it on to the chair. Next she slowly unbuttoned her blouse and removed her bra, exposing her firm breasts and rock-hard nipples.
‘Keep your hands off your dick,’ she snapped, as Andrew involuntarily began to touch himself. ‘You are to suck my tits, but you are not, repeat not, to wank. Do you understand?’
He nodded and lowered his head to her breasts, his mouth hungrily sucking on first one tit, then the other, looking so vulnerable with his trousers around his ankles. Amanda’s clit throbbed so hard that she was close to coming right there, even without touching it – one squeeze of her legs would send her over the edge. But she didn’t want to come. Not just yet. Andrew pushed his cock against her legs.
‘Stand back,’ she barked, pushing him off her nipple. She hitched up her skirt and leaned backwards over the desk, legs apart, exposing her cunt, the thin string of her wet black thong sliding over it.
Andrew couldn’t hold back. His hand was on his cock in a split second, rubbing up and down the shaft in a frenzy, staring at Amanda’s cunt.
‘That’s enough,’ she ordered, standing up. Andrew let go of his cock with a whimper. ‘You are to lie down on the floor with your hands over your head. Now!’
Taking a roll of masking tape, she taped his wrists together and wound the tape around the leg of the desk. ‘Now you can’t wank, you prick,’ she hissed, standing over him with her black heels pressed against his shoulders. ‘But you can watch someone who can.’
Amanda’s skirt was still hitched around her waist, warm juices spilling from her cunt. She tugged gently first one ribbon tie, then the other, so her soaking panties fell on to his mouth. He inhaled deeply, and Amanda slid her middle finger between her pussy lips and on to her throbbing clit. Andrew groaned again, rubbing his hips side to side on the rough carpet as if waving his dick would somehow help to satisfy it.
She dropped to her knees, directly above his face, and threw the panties to one side. ‘Tongue out!’ she ordered. ‘And keep it out.’
Licking his lips, savouring the taste of her juices from the panties, he poked his tongue out and Amanda lowered her clit on to it, rocking back and forth so his tongue flicked over her swollen bud, fast and hard. Almost beside herself with lust, but still managing to appear totally in control, she sat on his face so his tongue went deep into her cunt, and Andrew sucked her juices, tugging desperately at the tape binding his hands.
‘Fuck me,’ he whispered, thrusting his hips up and down in a vain attempt to satisfy his throbbing member. ‘Or let me wank. Please. I can’t take it.’
‘Silence!’ she replied, recovering her composure. ‘I most certainly will not fuck you. Lick my clit, you bastard. Fast and hard.’
Andrew pulled his tongue out of her cunt and inside her pussy lips, vibrating it rapidly over her clit. This time, Amanda let herself come, but she held every muscle in her body as tight as she could, so Andrew wouldn’t know that she’d climaxed. It took an incredible effort to keep still, to not abandon herself to the rush of pleasure, but by doing so her orgasm was more intense than she’d ever felt before.
As the sensation subsided, she reached forwards and ripped off the masking tape. Her knees were either side of his head, her pussy inches above it. Andrew lowered his hands but this time he didn’t make a grab for his swollen dick.
‘Please may I wank?’ he asked meekly, looking up at her glistening cunt. ‘Mistress? Please?’
‘That’s better. You are now addressing me correctly.’ She stood up, still with her legs either side of his head, the stems of her black heels pressing into his cheeks. Relishing every moment, she stepped over him, the heel of her stiletto brushing over his lips. ‘You may wank but you may not spunk up until I say so. Understood?’
‘Yes, mistress,’ he replied.
She knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back, but watching him try gave Amanda such a thrill. His hand grasped his pulsating cock, trying to masturbate it slowly, speeding up every few seconds until he forced himself to slow his rhythm.
‘Please let me come, mistress,’ he begged, spurts of pre-cum leaking out of his desperate dick. But before she could reply, he gasped and a massive stream of shiny spunk shot out of the end of his cock so fast that it landed on his cheek, dripping down towards his neck.
‘I did not give you permission to ejaculate,’ she snapped. ‘Your punishment is to swallow it.’
Amanda bent down and ran her finger through it, feeding the cum into his mouth. Andrew licked his lips, savouring the taste of himself. Then she stood up, her ribbon-tie panties in her hand, and smoothed down her skirt.
‘Will I see you again?’ Andrew asked. She looked down at him, so feeble there with his limp cock dribbling on his thigh and his trousers still around his ankles.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘You screwed things up, Andrew. All by yourself. By fucking Lois. But at least now I can be totally sure that you know exactly what you’re missing. I’ve just fucked you the way she never did.’
She turned on her black skyscraper heel, picked up her jacket and walked to the lift, stuffing her soaked panties in her handbag, feeling on top of the world as she knew she was leaving Andrew behind her for good.
‘Goodnight, madam,’ said the security guard, as she strode past. ‘Have a fabulous evening.’
‘Thanks,’ Amanda replied with a smile, stepping out into the rain-washed street and ready to start her new life. ‘I certainly will.’