OUT OF CONTROL

by

Rebecca Ambrose

Copyright Rebecca Ambrose 2011

Smashwords Edition

Cover image courtesy of 123RFStockPhotos

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Chapter One

A woman with droopy earrings and rabbity teeth was droning on about multi-media opportunities for those already in the television industry, but Shelley was scarcely listening. She had come on this conference weekend for one reason and one reason only: to get laid by Duncan McFain. Shelley knew all the arguments why she shouldn't. For one thing, she was a married woman. For another, she shouldn't be thinking about mixing work with pleasure. Her job as a director with an independent television company was precious to her, and she'd be a prize idiot to put it in jeopardy.

Yet the sight of that dark, perfectly-sculpted head tilted fractionally to one side as Duncan concentrated on the speaker's words was enough to fill her stomach with wild flutterings that bordered excitingly on panic. Shelley had sat behind him on purpose, needing to look at him but not wanting to catch his eye. Most people would not find the back of a man's head in the least erotic, but the way she felt about Duncan even the sight of his little finger would turn her on. Now she noticed the way his dark brown curls swirled enticingly around the delicate tips of his ears. She saw a hundred shades within the overall brown of his hair, golds and reds and blacks that filled the luxuriant depths with hidden colour. The layers thinned as they approached his neck and finally gave way to a smattering of golden down that must have been there from childhood when, no doubt, his hair was fair.

Although Shelley had never touched him she had convinced herself that she knew exactly how it would feel to bury her fingers in that tawny-sable mane. She imagined clutching at it when he brought her, slowly, towards the peak of her pleasure and thrust himself deep into the secret heart of her body, the part that made her a woman. For weeks she had day-dreamed about it, wanted it to happen, and gradually she had noticed a corresponding interest on his part. Perhaps it was impossible to desire a man so much and not have him want her in return. Maybe telepathy had played a part in it, after all.

Because when she'd said she was going to the conference, his face had lit up. 'I'm so glad, Shelley. I thought it was going to be a really boring weekend, but now I know you're going I shall look forward to it.'

What more direct come-on could she want than that?

Yet so far it had been frustrating. Shelley had been put on the far side of the hotel, in the annexe, while Duncan was in the main building. That was not an insuperable obstacle, of course, but ever since they'd arrived he had been surrounded by other people and she had been unable to get near him. All her hopes were pinned on dinner that evening and the informal chat in the bar afterwards.

The woman stopped speaking and there were a few half-hearted questions from the floor, then the chairman announced the end of the session. Shelley sighed her relief. People began standing, shuffling. pushing back chairs and she watched Duncan anxiously as he, too, rose to his feet. He turned round and looked straight at her. His grey eyes moved momentarily heavenward, as if he were as glad as she that the boring woman had finished, and Shelley smiled encouragement. To her delight he began to move through the ranks of chairs in her direction.

'Can I buy you a drink, Shelley?' he asked, glancing at his Cartier watch. 'I feel in need of one myself.'

'Thanks, I'd love one.' She lowered her voice, turning him into a fellow conspirator. 'Maybe we can manage to avoid the others.'

'There's one way we can make quite sure of it,' he grinned back. Leaning towards her ear he murmured, 'We could nip into town, eat someplace else. Are you game?'

'Absolutely!' she laughed.

'Meet you in the car park in five minutes then.'

Shelley left the room walking on fluffy clouds but as she freshened up in the Ladies, combed her auburn hair, reapplied her lipstick and perfume, she was dismayed to find herself experiencing a twinge of guilt. What about poor old Ben? Her spirits sank, but she told herself that was exactly the problem. She always got depressed when she thought about her husband. Of course she was sorry about him losing his job. The trouble was, sorry wasn't how she wanted to feel about the man in her life. She wanted him to lift her up, as Duncan undoubtedly did, to feel a rush through her veins when she thought of him, a real sexual buzz.

It was a long time since she'd been that way over Ben. Which was why it was all the more irresistible when it had happened with Duncan. She loved being in love, the miracle that turned blood into champagne and made her see everything with new eyes. If she could feel that way about Ben again she wouldn't need Duncan – but she couldn't, so she did. Only that gorgeous hunk of a boss of hers really had the power to do it to her, and he was waiting for her now, in the car park.

Shelley slipped into the front seat of the Mercedes and as Duncan reached over to help fasten her seat belt his hand brushed against the hard points of her nipples, visible beneath her clothes in her new softline bra. She knew he was doing it deliberately and, furthermore, he knew that she knew. The smile he threw her afterwards was both knowing and satisfied, convincing Shelley – if she needed convincing – that he was as interested in her as she was in him.

'Not a very promising start to the conference was it?' he commented as he drew smoothly away, his hand in firm control of the steering wheel. 'Still, at least it gets us out of London. You're married, aren't you Shelley?'

The question came out of nowhere, stunning her into replying, 'Er . . . yes, I am.'

'Happily?'

She hesitated. 'I wouldn't say so. Ben is unemployed, you see. Has been for over a year. And somehow it seems to have affected our relationship.'

'Bound to. What was his job?'

'Computer programmer. Nowadays he spends all his time on the Internet.'

'Hm. I prefer to live in the here and now, not wallowing in some virtual reality with a bunch of nerds who have problems interfacing with the real world.'

Duncan threw her a smile that had her heart racing like the engine. Shelley found his chiselled profile – straight nose, firm chin – even more appealing than full face. When he gave her that sidelong look his grey eyes flickered at her with a cheeky suggestiveness that fuelled her libido and had her longing for the merest touch of him. To satisfy that longing she pretended to pull down her skirt and her knuckles made contact with the side of his thigh, his trousers drawn taut over the muscled flesh beneath.

Shelley gave an involuntary shiver, then asked huskily, 'How about you, Duncan, are you married?'

'Divorced. Three years ago. No kids. Ah, this looks just the place, don't you think?''

He pulled into the forecourt of a small country hotel. It was quiet, out of season, and the landlord welcomed them genially in the bar. Duncan asked to see the menu as they drank their aperitifs, then they moved into the small dining-room beyond. Away from the tedious media types at the conference Shelley began to relax and feel more herself. She chatted away about her childhood visits to her loony maiden aunt, Jean McIntyre, who lived in Inverness and Duncan offered tales of his Aberdeen childhood in return.

There was an inevitable closeness developing between them, and Shelley knew that before the night was out they would become even more intimate. She loved savouring this mixture of desire and elation, the near-certainty that his feelings and intentions mirrored hers but spiced with a dab of uncertainty. It was only when Duncan mentioned, casually, that there were rooms available at the hotel that Shelley felt her hopes soar unstoppably.

'What do you say?' he asked, as they sat in the lounge sipping coffee, heads intimately close. 'Shall we give them all the slip for the night and stay here? It would cause a delicious scandal, I'm sure. If they bother to notice we're missing, of course.'

'Oh Duncan, do you think we could?'

Shelley felt her body responding to his like a flower to rain. She was opening up, feeling all soft and vulnerable, her tender parts longing for the sweet ministrations of his hands and tongue. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, just for a moment. They felt full and soft, brushing hers with an electric tingling that left her inwardly clamouring for more.

'I'll see to it. You stay here.'

Shelley stretched her legs out languidly before the open fire, enjoying the warmth on her shins. She had lusted for Duncan for months and now, in just a few minutes, they would be alone together in a hotel bedroom. The knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him was a powerful aphrodisiac, turning what had once been a vague desire into a raging need, to kiss and be kissed, touch and be touched. God, how long was it since she had felt this vibrant, this alive?

The thought of her husband intervened briefly, but Shelley reminded herself that she'd been trying to inject life into their failing marriage for the past six months. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she and Ben had made any attempt at love-making. It was amazing that her libido hadn't withered away altogether. For months she'd lived a celibate, frustrated existence but surely she deserved better than that. As a red-blooded female in the prime of life she considered that sexual satisfaction was her right. And now that the opportunity had at last presented itself she was going to seize it with both hands, not to mention the rest of her anatomy!

Duncan reappeared, smiling, and Shelley knew it was all arranged. Feeling like a couple of naughty children playing truant, they mounted the red carpeted stairs and found their room. It was large and pleasant, with a double bed and en suite bathroom. No doubt there was also a view, but neither of them paid any attention to it. They were too occupied with the sight of each other, relishing the last few moments of hunger before the feast, letting the idea sink in that they were about to make dreams become reality.

Shelley looked into his eyes, her pulse racing. His gaze was candid, telling her that he wanted her right now, and wanted her a lot, and nothing else mattered. She wasn't going to argue. Whatever romantic notions she might once have had were well and truly shattered by now, and all that mattered was the fact that she needed to make love again, if only to prove to herself that she still could. Slowly they drew together and she focused on the open invitation of his smile, the full, tempting lips and gleaming white of his teeth.

The minute he kissed her any lingering doubts vanished. It felt so right, so good, to be with a man again. His mouth was soft and relaxed, his tongue in no hurry to penetrate, and Shelley began to do what she'd longed to do earlier. Reaching up she plunged her fingers into the thick softness of his dark hair, loving its silky caress. Duncan responded by stroking her hair too, only his fingers remained on the sleek surface.

Experimentally, Shelley let her tongue slide out and touch the tip of his, protruding between the cushioning lips. For a moment he let her touch him, then withdrew. Seconds later it was he who was making the move, pressing his tongue slowly against her lips until she yielded and let him enter, playing a combined game of hide and seek and catch with her.

Soon Shelley's mouth was running with juices and she could feel a corresponding fountaining between her lower lips, where she was already well prepared for what was to come. Although the rest of her body was crying out for stimulation it was clear that Duncan was in no great hurry to provide it. He continued to stand there by the bed, gently stroking her hair while their tongues played with each other. She moved her hands down his powerful shoulders and strong back, feeling the maleness of him beneath his clothes and exulting at the difference between his hard, close-packed flesh and her own softer, more rounded contours.

Then, at long last, she felt his exploratory fingers on the buttons of her blouse at the back of her neck. While he slowly unfastened them she felt inside the waistband of his trousers and drew out his shirt, reaching under it to find the warm, smooth skin of his back. Shelley sighed with the relief of feeling muscles that did not tense against her touch, a body that allowed her free access to stroke and enjoy, flesh that offered no resistance.

'Shelley,' she heard him murmur into her ear. 'I want to see your body.'

For a while they stood apart, but only to allow their eyes to send erotic messages to their already teeming imaginations. They undressed in tandem, slowly revealing themselves to each other. While Shelley slipped off her blouse Duncan removed his shirt. She examined the broad musculature of his chest, the light smattering of black hairs down the central cleft that ended in a swirl around his navel, aware of his eyes on the curving uplift of her breasts in her bra, their nipples showing as dark shadows within the white lacy cups. She reached behind her back and unclipped the garment, freeing her bosom to the frank delight of his gaze. He groaned softly, and she knew how much he longed to touch her rigid nipples, but instead his hands went to unbuckle the belt at his waist.

Although it was quite warm in the room Shelley felt a light shiver pass through her, making her nipples contract further and her clitoris tingle with anticipation. As Duncan unzipped his fly she did the same to her skirt and soon they were both stepping out of their lower garments until they stood in their underclothes, Duncan in a pair of striped boxer shorts and Shelley in charcoal grey tights that she slowly rolled down, revealing a pair of white lace panties that were already sodden at the crotch.

Shelley stared in fascination at his burgeoning erection, conscious of the fact that her pubic hair was visible around the edges of their lacy covering. The thin material was sticking to the cleft between her labia and no doubt giving Duncan a good view of her bulging mound. His eyes were fixed there, bright and lascivious as his brain worked overtime to mentally probe beneath the flimsy cloth and figure out what she looked like beneath. Her eyes were trying to work out how much of that impressive bulge was solid flesh and how much mere folds in the crisp cotton.

Then, acting in slow synchronicity, the pair of them finally stripped off the last vestiges of modesty and revealed themselves in their full glory. Shelley felt a ripple of excitement as his hungry eyes roved all over her and his penis sprang up in sudden response, pride in her own body mingled with appreciation of his. Duncan's prick was long, thick and pink, his balls hung full and ripe beneath. Seen in the context of his sturdy and well-maintained frame his equipment was what she would have expected, perfect tools for the job.

His delight in her body was also evident, along with his increasing desire to touch her again. They walked towards each other, smiling, but instead of falling into each others' arms they still kept their distance, wanting to see as much as to feel. His hands reached out for her breasts and cupped them lightly underneath, his thumbs resting on the pert tips of her nipples. She reached down towards his balls and held them equally lightly, feeling their hot hairy fullness in the palm of her hand. Gently each began to squeeze and caress, sensually playing with the weight of each others' flesh, and Shelley felt her knees weaken a little.

Their lips met, and the kiss that had been interrupted before first resumed then deepened, tongues entwined as they tasted each other to the full. He was soon applying firmer strokes to her breasts, brushing quite roughly against her nipples in a way that sent wild messages up to her brain and down again to the throbbing flesh of her vulva. Shelley couldn't resist the urge to touch his dick, and she sighed her pleasure in the feel of the velvety skin over the steely inner core. Slowly she lifted her fingers up the shaft until she reached the ridge below the glans then slid her thumb over the ultra-sensitive surface of the tip. It was sticky with a slight leakage of his fluid, ready to slide easily into her own well-lubricated quim. Another sharp shudder of longing passed through her, its intensity bordering on pain and making her gasp.

Suddenly they were lying on the springy expanse of the bed and the hunger that they had been holding in check was containable no longer. With avid speed Duncan was passing his hands all over her body, clutching and stroking beneath and between, while his mouth travelled down first to one yearning nipple then the other. Shelley was feeling equally rapacious and, spurred on by his stimulation of her breasts, began to fondle his taut buttocks and take soft bites into the tender flesh of his neck, making him squirm with lust.

'God, Shelley, I can't wait to get inside you!' he breathed, as his finger found her wet opening and made an unceremonious entry. She arched her back and ground the fleshy pad that surrounded her clitoris against his hand, gasping at the brief foretaste of the delights to come. She knew he had found her open and ready for him, knew he had no more will to hold out. His prick was rearing like an impatient stallion and she loved the feel of it thrusting against her soft belly.

'Come in, then,' she whispered, knowing that he needed no further invitation than her body was already issuing.

That first long, sweet lunge into the centre of her being fulfilled a craving Shelley had been only dimly aware of up to that point. As her inner walls embraced the full length of him her own arousal flipped onto a higher plane, making her whole body an instrument of quivering, subtle sensation. Duncan's hands worked on her breasts, teasing the already fully stretched nipples with his thumbs to attain new dimensions of size and density, brushing the surrounding skin with his nails to perform a twin assault upon those helpless globes. Wildly her awareness sped back and forth between the two pleasure-centres, each intensifying the experience of the other. When he took one roused nipple into his mouth and chewed softly upon it Shelley tilted and gyrated her pelvis with increased fervour, needing a more direct contact between the racing pulse in her clitoris and the strong thrusts.

Sensing her need Duncan speeded up until he was moving with rapid force, plunging into her again and again with increasing lack of control. She could hear his breath rising and falling in time to his movements until he was gasping out his impending climax and Shelley knew she was about to come too.

The fierce contractions hit her before she knew it, hot waves of unadulterated bliss searing through her like wildfire. Shelley made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like the guttural cry of some rutting animal. She could feel her breasts and buttocks quivering with the shock of the repeated convulsions and still she was caught in the throes of it, experiencing the thrill over and over, unable to believe it could last as long.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the intense orgasm waned, delivering a last few tremulous stirrings before she was allowed to sink into utter satiation. Duncan's body felt warm and comforting next to hers, his chest still heaving from his exertions.

'Wow!' he breathed. 'That was fantastic, Shell. You're some woman!'

'Mm!' she snuggled close, pleased that he had not found her wanting. There had been a moment, just before they entered the hotel room, when she had wondered if she was up to it, being out of practice and all, but her enthusiasm had evidently carried her through with flying colours. Just as well, she thought with a smile, she couldn't afford to let her boss down.

Remembering all the times she had secretly lusted after him, Shelley felt a deliciously wicked thrill run through her, like an aftershock from her climax. Not only had they just made love, but they'd done so while the rest of that stuffy crew were talking about the boring old digital broadcasting revolution over their post-prandial brandies. Well, she knew where she would rather be!

Shelley dozed in the dim light of the bedside lamp for over an hour, then found herself suddenly wide awake again. She rose as carefully as she could and made her way into the bathroom, where she rejected the shower in favour of a soak in a warm, scented bath. Lying there contentedly with closed eyes, the sticky residue of their love-making gently dissolving in the water, she was sunk in reverie when a deep voice suddenly enquired, 'May I join you?'

Smiling, Shelley made room for him. Duncan's long, lean legs stepped in behind her and then he invited her to lean back against him. Soon his well-lathered hands were soaping her breasts in lazy, sensual strokes, invoking a deliciously languid mood in her. One hand moved down over her stomach and then proceeded to rub the silky foam into her pubic hair. He lifted her up onto his thighs and his fingers went lower, parting the wet folds of her labia.

Relaxed and content, Shelley let Duncan's hands roam freely all over her, loving the feel of his slippery body under hers. Beneath her buttocks she could feel him growing hard, his penis stretching the length of her crack and beyond, up her back. She wriggled a little and he groaned, 'Do that again!' Her hips moved over his, squashing the root of his prick between her bum cheeks, feeling his balls slap and squidge against the backs of her thighs.

One of Duncan's soapy fingers entered her vagina, feeling its way through the taut opening until she felt loose and soft inside, readying herself. He held her up from his supine body for a few moments, long enough to position himself between her thighs and find the way in again, this time for his tumescent organ. She sighed as the head of it nudged its way past her swollen lips and found the entrance, then Duncan let her down slowly onto him again.

He hitched himself up the bath and pulled her to him so that they were both in a semi-sitting position and could move more freely. The water slopped around their thighs as they moved tentatively up and down, like a pair of boats at their moorings. Duncan let her lie back so that her mound was out of the water and her vulva more accessible to him, then he worked the soap between his hands until he had a rich lather once again. Reaching down he ran his slick fingers along the groove between her outer and inner lips then, at last, found the part she most wanted him to touch. His fingertip pressed on the fleshy pad, making her shudder, and slowly began to circle around it while she rested her arms on the side of the bath, levering herself up and down.

Shelley could have lain there for hours revelling in the slow, delicate stimulation of her pleasure-centres, but after a while she could tell that Duncan was becoming restless. His upward thrusting movements were more vigorous, as if he were straining for release, and the water in the bath was becoming a choppy sea.

'Hey, we're going to flood the place in a minute!' she warned him.