The thought was like a bucket of icy water.
“Henri, please…I could lose my job…everything I’ve worked for.” She pushed against his arms and chest, trying to free herself from his embrace. Her throat ached. Her armpits tingled and dampened with the rush of fear.
“You want this to stop?” he questioned. The fire in his eyes made her stomach flip and she took a step backwards. His dark hair had fallen across his forehead and he looked like he’d just got out of bed. “You will not lose your job,” he whispered, placing his right hand over his heart. “I promise you that. I can see how important it is to you.”
She stood trembling, looking into his eyes. They were so dark, so warm and they rooted her to the spot. Something flickered across his face. Was it pain? Regret? Confusion?
“Henri, I…”
“You know that don’t you, Catrin?”
She nodded, her fears fading softly like dry ice on a dance floor.
“Your job is safe. You are safe with me.”
She shivered with excitement and emotion. The feminist in her admonished her for allowing this…this stripping away of her control, yet she found it so arousing and strangely liberating. Was it wrong to want to believe him? There was something about him that did make her feel safe. It was an unfamiliar sensation but she realised that she liked it.
“And so…” He turned and pushed the emergency button on the lift control panel, causing it to jolt suddenly and fling Catrin against the mirrored wall. “You will allow me to do what I want?”
She licked her lips. Should she stop this and insist that he reactivate the lift? Desire was weakening her resolve by the second. It filtered away like sand in an egg timer.
“Yes, Henri. I will allow you to do whatever you want.” The words were out before she could evaluate the consequences further.
He grinned, his eyes softened and he took her hand.
“Now, as I said, I’m going down!”
He dropped to his knees in front of her and she sighed as he pushed her skirt up. When it was above her hips for the second time that morning, he pressed his face against the apex of her thighs and breathed deeply.
“I adore your scent, Catrin! It makes me so hard. I can tell how excited you are and how much you want me!”
She gripped the waist-high bar that ran around the lift walls as he nibbled at the lace then pulled it aside with his teeth. She was so wicked, yet so vulnerable. She wanted him so much it hurt!
He covered the front of her pussy with soft kisses that slowly reawakened her arousal. All rational thoughts about her career, her future and her ambitions dissolved and there was only the here and now with Henri. Nothing else mattered, no one else mattered. All the warnings she had ever heard from her mother about men getting you into trouble and children ruining your life melted like snowflakes on the ocean as need and desire consumed her.
His hot breath moved away and she sighed with disappointment.
“Let’s get this out of the way, chérie.” He slipped his hands over her hips then slid the thin material of her panties down and she stepped out of them. The cool air of the lift met the warm wet flesh between her legs and she inhaled deeply of her own musky arousal. She giggled, wondering what Liam H. Clarkson would say if he knew she’d gone commando in his lift – and with a client, no less!
“I think I’ll keep these for later,” he purred as he slid them into his pocket.
When his mouth pressed against her naked labia again she groaned and opened her legs wantonly. He aroused her like no other man ever had.
“What shall I do, Catrin?” he muttered into her neatly waxed line of golden hair. “Shall I lick you?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Shall I…” He sat back on his haunches then flicked her clitoris.
“Oh, no…” She panted, the sharp movement causing her bud to throb.
“What was that, Catrin?”
She looked down into his darkening eyes.
“Oh…I…uh, you will do whatever you want,” she replied, knowing that she needed him to continue.
“That’s better,” he smiled, then covered her with his mouth. He slid his tongue over her and her excitement began to build. He caressed every fold and valley, pushing deep into every crevice. They became one as he moved with her, each thrust and flicker of his tongue guiding her towards fulfilment.
“Oh, Henri, yes!” she murmured, lifting her hips up to him. “Please, Henri, more!”
He took hold of her hips, gripping them vice-like in his huge hands and ate her hungrily: suckling, licking and nibbling, filling her with his tongue until she rode his face hard, consumed by an explosion that made her grab handfuls of his hair and buck against him in ecstasy. The pleasure came wave after wave until the contractions ricocheted throughout her body and left her weak and gasping.
She opened her eyes. Her chest heaved with emotion.
Henri’s mouth was still fused to her groin and she felt the pull of his lips as he sucked her, drawing her hot juices into his mouth and swallowing them greedily.
“Délicieux!” he growled when he finally released her and pushed himself to his feet, dabbing a handkerchief to his lips.
Catrin grinned at him, a little self-conscious now at her vocal release.
“Is everything all right in there?” A tinny voice from the speaker by the elevator buttons made them both jump.
“Yes, we’re fine,” Henri replied. “I pressed the wrong button there for a moment. We’re on our way down!” He laughed at his own joke.
When he returned to her side, she smiled at him. “I have to disagree, monsieur.”
“Pardon?” He frowned, his handsome face lit up with mischief.
“You pressed the right button, Henri!”
He winked at her and she shook her head, wondering at her own wild and reckless behaviour when in the company of this handsome and gifted man.
***
Later that evening, Catrin walked through the side door to the Venus Lounge and down the steps to the dingy changing rooms. She felt so light and free after spending the afternoon with Henri. They had enjoyed a lazy lunch in the city then gone back to his hotel. He’d asked her to stay and been very persuasive – it had taken her three attempts to finally leave him. But she had to be at work for nine and she couldn’t risk being late for her shift.
She nodded at a few of the other girls as she pushed her bag into a locker and pulled out her Venus outfit. After a day of extreme pleasure and joy, having to come to such a seedy place was the last thing she wanted. The Venus Lounge made out that it was a high-end joint with a better class of clientele. But in reality, from Thursday to Sunday, it was filled with drunken men on lads’ weekends or stag parties. Occasionally, it even attracted a hen party too.
Once she’d squeezed into the tiny top and shorts, she closed her locker door and sat in front of one of the mirrors. The itsy-bitsy outfit was so different from her usual work attire. She hated how she looked.
But it was about to get worse.
She pulled her long blonde hair into pigtails then began layering on the make-up. A thick base of foundation was followed by blusher, bright red lipstick and false eyelashes.
Done.