Craig’s eyes popped wide awake as one hand clamped sharply over his mouth and another invaded the space between his thighs. Before he knew it, a blindfold had been forced over his eyes and now was firmly fixed so he couldn’t see a damned thing. His heart thumped. What the hell was this?
‘Don’t move … Yet.’ The woman’s voice was young and breathy with excitement. Craig lay motionless on the pillow, his world an inky blackness. ‘Sod it,’ he thought. If only he hadn’t drunk quite so much last night he’d have woken up before this assault. Usually he slept lightly. But not when he’d had three courses for dinner, and two bottles of vintage champagne. The hotel room was quiet, the air conditioning gently humming. The only other sound was the low, sultry laugh of the woman next to him. What crazy sort of game was this? He listened for clues. He’d have taken bets she wasn’t skinny. That laugh was too rich, too full of honey, too resonant to come from anywhere but an ample chest. Craig wasn’t a small guy. Tall, with a strong jaw and long legs, he was what you’d call rangy. Some might say skinny. Suddenly, something stirred deep within him. Fright mingled with desire. He’d never been trapped by a woman before. It was usually him doing the entrapment. Knowing he was the powerless one sent his imagination running wild.
The vague scent of Chanel perfume eased its way from the girl’s wrist just below his nose into his nostrils. He breathed deeply, nervously trying to guess if it was No. 5 or No. 19. Not sweet enough for No. 5. Definitely No. 19. Nice. But scary. Was this a joke or some sort of robbery? If she was after money, she was in the right place. Craig had been doing all the buying for his team last night. Aperitifs, liqueurs, the lot. He’d had a wallet full of cash and only spent half of it. But then, if she wanted to rob him why hadn’t she just done it and gone. No. This was about something else entirely. The girl’s long hair tickled his face as she leaned closer. He guessed he was right about one thing. He reckoned she was a big girl. He could swear he felt mountainous breasts overflow on to his arm. God, he wished he could see them. Warm, soft, powerful. Her skin brushed against his. Her voice penetrated the darkness. ‘Listen. Don’t budge. I’m going to remove my hand in a minute and we’re going to trust you not to yell.’
We?
‘And do you know why we can trust you?’ Craig took a risk and shook his head slightly. ‘Because if you don’t do as you’re told, my friend has her hand ready to cup your balls and squeeze. Hard.’ Craig nodded as he registered the pressure of not one but two female bodies under the sheet beside him.
That voice? He tried to make out which of his sales team it could possibly be. They’d all drunk far too much after last night’s awards ceremony and true, he’d flirted with them all in turn. He must have gone a bit too far. And now they were getting their revenge. They didn’t call his team ‘Craig’s harem’ for nothing. But the girls knew it wasn’t serious, didn’t they? He flirted with all women, all the time. That’s why he was so good at his job. Sex sells, ask any ad man, and although Craig promised, he never delivered. He didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. If he was a woman, he’d be called a prick tease. Funny there wasn’t an equivalent name for a man who liked to promise but didn’t deliver.
Craig had been doing it for years. It got him just what he wanted. Usually. Top sales figures, awards. A pay rise after schmoozing the girl from Human Resources. Now, it seemed someone wanted what they felt was due to them. Slowly the hand was taken off his mouth and he whispered, ‘What do you want?’ The blood rushed in his ears so loudly he almost didn’t hear himself and was about to ask again when he felt the hand on his thigh start stroking. Craig held his breath as the hand moved upwards. She didn’t grip his balls, she just started kneading them gently. Teasing. Craig held his breath until the need to breathe, to pant got the better of him.
‘I said don’t move,’ came that rich, commanding voice in his ear again as he felt her slide down and start twirling her tongue around his nipple. ‘We need you rock hard.’ The other girl had started running her nails sharply up his thighs. Expertly, she pulled in her claws as she teased soft fingers around the base of his penis. Craig tried to get his brain into gear. It wasn’t easy. Most guys would think they were in seventh heaven but Craig was pissed off. He didn’t want his body to react like this, he wanted to be annoyed and shout at them for breaking in to his room. It was a damned stupid prank. But with the sort of attention he was getting he could feel himself hardening by the second.
With his last ounce of reasoned thought, his mind went back to whom he had lent his room key to earlier. Sarah. That must be who it was. His forehead frowned under the blindfold. Quiet, mousy Sarah whom he had to send on assertiveness training? Surely not her. But, yeah, he had lent her the key so she could come and fetch the brochures for their display. Was she a fulsome girl, well covered like these two? It was impossible to tell with those nondescript dresses she wore. Now his prick was not only being held but was being expertly massaged up and down by girl number two. She’d used some sort of lube, something delicious and creamy slipping and slurping up and down him. Her hands, her fingers, were working overtime on Craig’s straining shaft. She was getting him ready for something. The air was dense with anticipation. He could hear her now, as she edged down the crisp white sheets to kneel in front of him on the bed, her knees either side of his. Her touch was gloriously unbearable.
But, those keys, he fought to concentrate. Sarah may have borrowed them but it was Louise who had given them back. It couldn’t be feisty red-haired Louise though. She was the one member of his team who’d never looked at him twice. She had the truest hourglass figure he’d ever seen. A gloriously huge rump as round as a racehorse and monumental freckled breasts that spilled out against half-buttoned business shirts. All the guys in accounts talked about was sinking their faces between those two superb mounds of womanhood. But Louise wasn’t having any of it. With an athletic fiancé on the go she’d been immune to Craig’s go-to-bed eyes.
The girl at Craig’s knees now cupped him in both hands, and he was no longer frightened of her firm grip. She obviously had only one thing on her mind as he felt her moist lips close over his tip, lapping it like an ice cream cone. Craig moaned, and then he heard her say, ‘That’s it gorgeous, get going, get nice and horny ’cos it’s nearly time for you to do some of the work.’ That voice. It could have been Miranda; she was a dark horse with those sultry, deep brown eyes. But no. She had an accent. It wasn’t her. While he was trying to think clearly, he was aware of the girl lowering her fantastic round breasts over his hard cock. She was squeezing them together, tormenting him, pushing her breasts up and over his cock rhythmically. He felt his mutinous penis give in, loving it, wanting it more and more.
A second later, Craig was aware of girl number one straddling his face as she held on to the headboard. Beautiful, generously proportioned thighs trapped him in their hot grip. ‘OK,’ she ordered, ‘I’m ready for you now. I’m sure your tongue can do more than just sweet-talk women.’
Craig obediently opened his mouth and she lowered herself on to him, exuding the bittersweet womanly musk of a girl close to coming. He worked not only his tongue but his fingers over her swollen clit. Sucking, licking, teasing, lapping, he couldn’t get enough of her. She was like an over-sweet ripe peach as he drank her in. She was delicious, practically suffocating him, then lifting herself to give him air before descending back to cream into his waiting mouth. Moving his hands up to clamp her thighs, he moved her sex down, in and out of his mouth, tonguing her like a cat greedily finishing a bowl of cream. As he rocked his head back and forth, he felt her hand come down and grip his hair, pushing him deeper and deeper into her as she suddenly cried out into the night air, tumbling into a crashing orgasm, then pushing herself heavily off him and landing sated and spent on the sheet next to him.
All the while, the other girl had been working away at his rock-hard cock, and now he heard her speak. ‘It’s my turn now. Get on top of me,’ she ordered. Oh my God, it must be Rosalind, thought Craig as the girl lay down underneath him, and he grasped one stupendous breast in his hand, directing it towards his mouth. Rosalind with the long, blonde, straightened hair. He moved his hand up to grasp her hair and find her out. At the same moment he drove his massive steel-hard erection inside her. She was soaking wet. She also wasn’t Rosalind, he realised as his hand cupped the back of her head and discovered short, thick, lustrous hair.
By this time he had stopped wondering. What the hell did it matter? The blindfold could stay on if that’s how they wanted it. He needed a long, hard fuck so bad, and by the sound of her so did she. Up and down rammed his hips as she raised hers higher, higher. Then he reached down, found her ankles and hoisted her legs either side of his shoulders, opening her wide to him. She was superb, massive, every bit of her was in gorgeous widescreen technicolour surround sound. ‘Right there, right there,’ she cried out, ‘don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.’ He’d obviously hit the spot, pounding deeper and deeper into her as she bucked and writhed. The headboard thumped over and over until he shot his load into her, sweating as she shuddered, rose and came underneath him.
Craig had often been told off for falling into a deep sleep the minute he’d come. By the time he woke up they’d both gone. It could almost have been a dream, apart from the state of the bed and the unmistakable, perfumed musky Chanel smell still embedded in the sheets.
In the morning Craig showered, packed, put on his suit and a clean shirt, not bothering with his tie, and went down to reception to check out. There stood Rosalind and Sarah and Louise and Miranda. His eyes flicked from one to the other of them. Which two girls shared that amazing secret? Which two had given him the best night of his life? They all looked tired. ‘Sleep all right, girls?’ he asked boldly standing near them to catch a whiff of that Chanel 19. There it was, unmistakably. But it wasn’t coming from them. It was coming from behind him. He whirled his head to see the two girls at the reception desk whom he had flirted with when they had greeted him yesterday and who had access to all the room keys. One a long-haired beauty with a breathy voice, her voluptuous, larger-than-life curves forced into a sensible business suit. The other a tall, no-nonsense German girl with short, thick hair, an Amazonian bosom and a wry smile.
‘Hope you enjoyed your stay, sir,’ she said, raising her perfectly plucked eyebrows, ‘do come again.’