Waiting For Sunday

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{twenty-eight}

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Unsatisfactory Performance

Mr Ross,

That mouth was incredibly wicked however I was left disappointed that you disappeared before I could “arrive”.

Sunday Williams
Owner and Proprietor of Free Spirit Yoga

I wait patiently sipping on my chai latte, smirking as I wait for his reply. My mind wanders back to last night, my hands cupped around the stoneware mug I always use, my fingers tapping lightly at the glaze and bite delicately at my lip as I remember the scene in front of me. Oliver’s strong hands wrapped around my thighs, keeping my ass securely on the bed as my body writhed underneath his expert mouth, his tongue flicking and sucking at my clit, sending surges of electricity through my body. I feel my muscles clench inside as a ring brings my attention back to the screen in front of me.

From: [email protected]
To:[email protected]
Subject: Unsatisfactory Performance Review

Dear Miss Williams,

I’m so sorry to hear that you weren’t completely satisfied. However, I will rectify this later tonight, say 9; at my place by the river. Will this be satisfactory with your need to “arrive”?

Kind Regards

Oliver J Ross
Editor for Seattle Publishing House

A smile as wide as my face curls on my lips as I quickly reply to his email, “He’s so giving me what I want,” I chuckle to myself.

The afternoon drags and although I finish all the necessary paperwork and forms and send emails to who needs them, by 6 I’m itching to leave. As the last class of the day filters out from the studio, both Amalia and Beth greet me with the biggest smiles as they see me leave the office. I’m so giddy it’s bordering on childish but I just can’t help it, that man does things to me to make me want to be young and carefree and just— happy.

“What’s that?” Beth asks as she points her index finger towards her mouth, circling it as I roll my eyes.

“I’m seeing Oliver soon,” I sing.

“That’s why,” they both smirk looking to each other before looking back at me.

“Be happy for me, besides—, I barely see him now we’re all the way over on the other side of the city and he’s still back across the street from the old studio, so anything slightly exciting— well it— it excites me,” I giggle as they roll their eyes.

“So what have you got planned?” Amalia asks, her arms folding across her chest, a smirk on her lips.

“Nothing much,” I vaguely reply, turning on my heel and smiling as I leave.


Walking towards Oliver’s apartment, I smile when I see Amy leave.

“Hi,”

“Hey,” she replies, an awkward but amused smile on her face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she chimes, her arm in the air as she walks towards the elevator.

“Amy!”

“Have fun!” She laughs as the doors open and she disappears inside. What is she smiling about? I walk to the apartment, lifting my hand to knock on the door but find it ajar. With a frown and the curiosity that could literally kill a cat, I walk in looking around the door as I step inside, turning around and closing it behind me.

“Oliver?”

Nothing.

“Oliver where are you?”

“In here!” He exclaims, his voice amused.

Walking towards his bedroom door, I push it open and stop, my mouth falling open. The sight in front of me has me laughing and covering my mouth with my fingertips but also clenching my thighs together.

Kneeling on the bed completely and utterly naked, a rose held in his pressed lips, I look amazed as a smile widens on his face and mine, his arms spreading out just a little and a muffled “tada” leaves his lips. I stare at the nakedness. Oh my, the nakedness. The sheer unabashed expression on his face makes the ache— that same pleasurable ache burn in between my legs.

“Oliver,”

Pulling the rose from his lips, he clumsily clambers from the bed, laughing as he scoops me up in his arms, kissing me feverishly and then places the rose stem back in between his lips.

“What on earth are you doing?” I laugh back, my arms firmly secured around his neck.

“Surprise!” He muffles again, grazing his nose against mine.

“I’m impressed,” I say, kissing the tip of his nose as he spins me around and falls against the bed, laughing as he clambers between my legs. Reaching down and behind him, he pulls a bottle of champagne and uncorks it with his teeth, the pop making me skittish as he demands “open wide,”

“Oliver I can’t,”

“Just open wide,” he chuckles again and I do as I’m told.

Freezing cold champagne pours into my mouth and haphazardly spills down my cheeks and neck, some pooling in the hollow, “Here let me get that for you,” he coos sucking the refreshing liquid out, tickling my neck with his lips.

Emptying the last of the bottle himself, although I’m pretty sure he’s already had more, he drops it back onto the floor and crashes his sweet and sticky lips against mine. His tongue pushes through my lips and massages with mine. Hands already kneading desperately at my breasts, hurried breaths escaping his nose.

“Oliver— wait,” I murmur behind his lips. I don’t know what or why he’s become so hurried— so nervous but determined.

“Just— slow down,” I purr, bringing my hands up to his face, my thumbs running circles against his cheeks before pulling him back to me. His lips slow, caressing me gently, but still passionately as his tongue finds mine again, but this time when he pulls back, he kneels and hooks his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and with a glint, peels them from my legs.

With flushed cheeks and a smirk, he licks his bottom lip and pulls them from my feet, my panties soon after. Trailing up the skin of my calf, he lifts my leg over his shoulder and positions himself between me, moving his fingers up to the vest and my bra and pulls both fabrics away leaving me as naked as him.

Lips pepper my skin and with a firm grip, he turns us and pulls me on top of him, my legs straddling his thighs.

“You don’t know how beautiful you are,” he coos.

I can feel my own cheeks flush this time and as I lean in to kiss him, he stops me, taking my breasts into his hands and biting teasingly on one before enveloping my nipple in his warm and wet mouth.

Moaning, I place a hand either side of his head, my now aroused folds, gliding up and down the length of his erection, causing the most pleasurable friction between my thighs.

“Fuck—,” he murmurs as he releases my nipple and moves to the other, his hands moving around me, grabbing at the flesh of my ass. I can feel myself almost ready to come from just the friction and his voice alone, the power it holds, how lustful and erotic it sounds.

“Oliver,” I whimper as he releases my nipple and looks up to me, his green eyes searching mine, his hands cupping my cheeks.

“I love you,”

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