Driving away from Gerry that morning was possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done; the sight of him, all golden and delicious, was making bits of me twitch and hum that should have been fully under my control, and kissing him goodbye took all my willpower to tear myself away before I leaped frenziedly on him all over again, fuck client meetings!
Luckily, business-head won, and so I headed out, for some reason my eyes leaking almost continually as I drove to Oxford for the first of the meetings that had so rudely dragged me away from Gerry and his lovely, squeezable, he-man body and insatiable spunk-fountain of a cock.
I arrived early at the hotel in Oxford where I was meeting my client, a buyer for an hotel chain in the Far East who was looking to theme several hotels with an “English” vernacular, as they were building several replica “English” towns as tourist attractions, complete with double-decker buses, black cabs, and red telephone boxes.
I wasn’t particularly impressed, images of impossibly twee houses that would never exist in England, Town-Criers, busty blonde milkmaids, some bloke dressed as Jack The Ripper giving guided tours or selling bar vouchers, and new-looking cobbled streets flashing through my mind, every possible chocolate-box cliche, and all wrong, yuk, how utterly, utterly naff.
I ducked into the Ladies’ Restroom to fix my makeup, seeing with horror my panda eyes, streaked lipstick and swollen red eyes; I looked like Courtney Love after a heavy night on the kerosene. It took a lot of patient and meticulous reconstruction work before I walked out of there looking, if not like a million dollars, then something approaching that; my newly repaired face boosted my confidence, and so I went forth to do battle.
My meeting went pretty much as expected, my little friend losing interest in my design proposals after about an hour, and edging closer to try and look further and further down my blouse, and me edging further and further away without trying to be obvious about it. When I pushed the contract in front of him and laughed winsomely at something he said, his eyes never left my neckline as he signed away a HUGE amount of his company’s money on my design layouts and project management proposals, as well as a clutch of extras he’d never have agreed to if his mind was actually using his head, instead of orbiting around somewhere below his belt-buckle. At least he could be sure of one thing, though; I do good work, he’d get his money’s worth, and more.
That done, I smothered him in charm and herded him out the door, before calling my PA and telling her to order Bollinger; Christmas had just arrived, and we were going to celebrate when I got back into the office! Now I just had three other meetings to get out of the way, bugger, all in London. That meant if I wanted to see Gerry again that night I’d have to brave the rush-hour traffic back up along the bloody M1; did I really want to do that? Answer: yes, I definitely needed more of what he had an endless supply of!
I was feeling more than a little bedraggled by now, but a quick stop into Miss Selfridge netted me a nice Stella McCartney business suit and blouse, and now, feeling more like a powerhouse of industry, I could face my three meetings. To my surprise, they all went like clockwork, completely by the numbers; my PA, Megan, an harassed, brilliant girl who worked best under pressure and always delivered cracking presentations, ran the clients step by step through our proposals while I showed my designs and walked them through the financials, walking away that evening with three more fat contracts; Gerry was definitely my lucky star, and I was happy to plough through the nightmare traffic snarl-up of the North Circular to get to the M1 and Cambridge so I could show him just what I thought of my lucky charm.
Megan went back to the office to spread the good word; the champagne was on the way, and everyone was getting a huge bonus; Lorna just pulled four fat rabbits out of the hat. I had Megan order a champagne hamper from Fortnum’s for each of the boys in the office as a special ‘Thank You’; after all, we’d just had a fucking incredible day, adding an eight-figure sum to the company’s order-books.
It was dusk when I finally arrived back at Gerry’s quad; there was no parking after dark in the college environs, so I had to find a public car park and then walk the mile or so; luckily I was on such a high after the amazing day I’d had that I didn’t think twice about trudging across town in my Jimmy Choo’s. My gorgeous baby brother answered the door to find me leaning against the frame with a bottle of Heidsieck Dry Monopole and two champagne flutes, and a grin that would have made the Cheshire cat give up and go back to pissing in window boxes.
Gerry was barefoot and looked delicious in faded tight jeans outlining every muscle and ripple of his long legs, and a pale cream billowing pirate shirt with duellist sleeves and drawstring neck; he looked like Lord D’Arcy just before he seduces Arabella, the ravishingly beautiful but inexplicably innocent young chambermaid in a romantic novel, and I almost came there and then just gazing at that beautiful, beautiful boy.
“Lor, I was just beginning to miss you all over again!” he smiled, my knees going weak at that slow, sweet, slightly sad smile of his; Christ, he was gorgeous; how the hell was I going to hold myself back from just rampaging on him all night, I asked myself (not that I had any intention of doing anything so pointlessly wasteful, not when there was so much of him to play with, oh my, yes…)
“Invite me in, you beautiful boy, and you might get more than just a glass of champers, Gerry!” I leered at him, grinning at his ready smile and I’m sure a twitch from that interesting-looking bulge in his jeans.
Smiling happily, he put his arm around my waist and pulled me close, crushing his lips to mine and clamping his free hand around my bottom, his fingers kneading me as I rubbed my groin against his. I hooked the door shut with my foot and kissed him as hard as I could with my hands full. His hands moved down to my bum, clutching and squeezing the cheeks as his tongue fenced with mine, heat building between us at an alarming rate; now I didn’t want to drink champagne; now I wanted to fuck this golden boy so hard the windows rattled.
Gerry must have been feeling pretty much the same thing, as he suddenly broke our kiss to take the two champagne flutes and the bottle of bubbly and put them in the fridge, then turned back to me and pulled me close again, his lips doing things to me all over again, heating me up, making me want him, making me want him to do things to me, bad, mad, nasty, wonderful things!
I felt his fingers fumbling with the zipper on my skirt, and then he was pulling it down and sliding my skirt off. I stepped out of the puddle of cloth, dropping my suit jacket on top of it, then my blouse, leaving me in only my panties and hold-up stockings, as my bra was still in the glove-box of my car. Gerry pulled me close again and ran his soft, firm hands over my flanks, cupping and squeezing my bum cheeks, kissing me gently as he stroked and fondled me.
I, on the other hand, was feverishly scrabbling at his jeans, aching to get my hands on that wonderfully talented cock of his. As he kissed and fondled me, I could feel his meat pressing against me, and, slut that I am when it comes to my little brother, all I wanted to do was yank his pants off, inhale that super-cock for a while, then swap ends and have him pound me into fuck-happy Heaven.
Gerry grinned against my lips, obviously reading the thoughts clanging around at the very top of my mind, and stepped back slightly so he could unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his jeans. As soon as he did that I slid my hands down the back of his jeans, grabbing a double handful of his solid, muscular arse, thinking myself the luckiest girl in the world to have a body like that to play with, and a bum like his to squeeze and maybe bite later; I know my mouth was watering at the thought of biting him gently just to feel that solid, rock-hard meat between my teeth; every part of him looked delicious, and manly, and beefy, and just plain fucking desirable, a true top-table of gourmet delights for a horny girl to sample at leisure.
Unable to resist any longer, I pushed his jeans down while he pulled his shirt off and threw it on top of my discarded clothing, so now he was standing there in just his shorts, skin-tight trunks, his cock making an obscene tent in the front. As he pulled me close again to kiss and fondle me some more, I took the opportunity to wrap my hand around that wonder-cock and give it a healthy rub and squeeze. I couldn’t wait any more, and kissing my way down his chest, with just a short stop to lick and suck his nipple, making him gasp, I dropped to my knees and hooked the waistband of his trunks, sliding them down in one smooth tug.
His impressively thick cock fell forward, almost perfectly placed for me to capture it with my lips and give him a friendly suck while I gently squeezed his big velvety balls.
“Oh God, Lor, that’s… oooh yes… yesss!” he murmured as I took hold of him and began rhythmically squeezing and fisting him as I sucked. I couldn’t deep throat this baby, I’d need to be a basking shark or some kind of circus freak for that, but I could fit the plum-sized head in my mouth, licking and sucking as I fisted him with one hand, and gently squeezed his balls with the other.
Gerry understood, his gentle care of me coming to the fore again as he shuddered, constantly forcing himself to not just ram that thing into my mouth, but I could tell he was getting there; his pulse fluttered in the twitching member in my mouth, his abdominal muscles rippled with the strain of not coming, and his balls had pulled up tight under the shaft in my mouth. I redoubled my efforts, as I wanted the edge off this boy, and this was my favourite way of doing it.
I licked, and sucked, and rubbed my tongue over the sensitive tip of his penis, and, when I judged he was nearly there, I squeezed his balls as I poked my tongue-tip into his pee-hole.
“Ooohh God, Lorna, shit… I… oh Christ…!” he gasped as his cock gave a muscular shudder and twitch, and I swear I felt the end gape open as it swelled up, pulsed, and shot jet after jet of hot, thick, creamy spunk into my mouth, filling my mouth over and over again, almost faster than I could swallow. Gerry trembled and shuddered as pulse after orgasmic pulse wracked his glistening, golden body as he kept firing his cream into me. A detached part of me wondered where he was getting this from, as I could have sworn I’d thoroughly decanted him over the last couple of days; obviously he had other recuperative powers to go with his superb physique!