Page 20 of The Secret Job: Into the Depths of Depravity
“I said I can’t stop reliving that morning either and am keen to do it again but I would need to run it past you first. What do you think, how does the idea of us three getting together again make you feel?”
“I-I,” I stammer trying to choose the right words. My heart is skipping a beat because my body is screaming that it sure as hell wants to do it again, don’t get me started on what my pussy is saying. But my head, my heart, they’re trying to protect me and be cautious, they also don’t want me to sound too excited for the fact James might share me again with his best friend.
“I haven’t stopped replaying the morning with us three together in my head like a broken record,” I reply as honestly as I can, trying to persuade my heart it was the act of us three together and not the person we were doing it with that is giving me butterflies at the prospect of doing it again.
“So you’d be keen to do it again, we can book a date?” James asks earnestly. I can see he is trying to read my expression and whether I actually want to or whether I am agreeing because he wants to. “You’re sure?”
“Book a date, I’m very happy to re-enact our Monday morning sex session again. I do have one request,” I start.
“Anything. Tell me,” he urges, hanging onto my words.
“Can we do it in the evening? Maybe my parents can have the kids for a sleepover so we can all relax and take our time? Maybe Matty can stay rather than leave like a dirty secret this time.”
“Great idea, we can absolutely do that, I have no doubt Matty won’t have a problem.”
“That’s settled then. I’ll let you know the jobs I book in over the next couple of weeks and you can arrange a date around them?”
James leans in and brushes his lips across mine, the scent of him and mint filling my senses as he holds one hand around my jaw. “Thank you, I know it’s different because it’s Matty and you are doing this for my sake, but thank you.”
“I’m doing it for us, us three. Why stop something that is so sexually charged it stays with you for days on end?” I reply matter of factly, hoping my heart is listening to my head.
“I know we haven’t done it since we’ve been back, but would you like me to read to you?” James asks, knowing how intimate and connecting it is for both of us.
“Is that code for cock warming, husband?” I ask, unable to hold in my smile.
“Yes, I was trying not to make it sound crude when I feel it’s the opposite of crude.”
“I would really like that, James,” I reply.
“Take off your nightie first, I want to feel all of you as you suckle me.”
That gets my nipples pebbling and a spark ignites straight to my clit. Wordlessly I sit up, pull my silk camisole nightdress up over my head and put my pillow along the line of James’ left leg. James shimmies his boxers off and I place my head onto his lap as I get comfortable. I remember my book and sit up and reach for it on my nightstand before passing it to James and resettling in position. One of my favourite parts of doing this is when James feeds his cock into my waiting mouth. He is always rock hard and leaking from his slit. James tentatively lowers his cock onto my tongue and the salty taste of his precum permeates my tastes buds. It’s my favourite taste of him. Picking up my book, he begins to read. My mouth waters so I suckle on the tip of his head and begin to feel my whole body relax just like it did on our weekend away. I listen to the story James reads to meand can’t help but let my mind wander as I relax into him.What would it be like to do this with Matty? Is it too intimate to do with him?I wonder.Would he touch my breasts or kiss my mouth next time?I really should ask James what the full list of rules were last time.
James begins to soften in my mouth which allows my jaw to relax more now that I’m not so full of him. A deep calm settles over me and as always, I’m lulled to sleep by the timbre of James’ voice and the sucking of his now flaccid cock.
10
We have a lovely normal weekend of sports games, food shopping, washing, movies, one birthday party and Sunday lunch in a pub in St Kilda. Monday I spend the morning working at the Marion with Sophie before we head out to our usual lunch spot.
“You know, we should really mix up our lunch destinations, Sophie, surely we can try somewhere else for a change?”
“We can my lovely, but this one does the best smashed avocado and has the most privacy. Let’s try somewhere new when we don’t have anything like the Red job board to talk about, yeah?”
“Ok, point taken. I don’t want anyone to overhear what I’m about to ask you.”
“Exactly, I don’t want anyone to hear the answers I’m about to give you also.” Sophie smirks. She is right. There is a reason we have aliases and there is a reason no one else knows what we do. It’s not something you shout about in a busy café in Melbourne. We sell our bodies for money, and worse—at least to society—we allow clients to play out their deepest desires and kinks on our bodies. At this point, even my best friendwould have a heart attack if she knew. Some things are better left unsaid, and I know Sophie feels the same. Her boyfriend knows what she does but no one else, just like me and James.
So together we sit in our quiet corner away from everyone else in the café and begin our usual weekend catch up.
“Before I completely take over and bombard you with questions, how are you and things with Sam, going ok?”
“Sam is great, I think he’s a keeper.” Sophie winks at me.
“Ah Soph, I’m really pleased to hear that. What does he do again for work?”
“He’s a financial advisor.”
“Oh yep that’s right.”
