NEW YEAR'S WISH by Veronica Tower

 NEW YEAR'S WISH by Veronica Tower

As the year comes to a close, Mary has taken stock of her life—and she doesn’t like what she sees. She’s too shy, too complacent, and she’s done letting life pass her by. Ready to make a new start, Mary attends her friend’s New Year’s Eve party, determined to grab some fun, embrace her sexy and usher in the New Year properly.

Handsome and flirty, Reid seems like the perfect man to aid in Mary’s reinvention. Every touch, every kiss, encourages her to toss aside her shy reservations and embrace the woman she wants to be. As the heady mix of alcohol, Reid’s delicious mouth and the holiday spirit strip away Mary’s insecurities, she’s sure of just one thing—there’s no way she’s going to be satisfied with just a kiss to ring in the New Year.

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Chapter One

“So sorry,” the woman slurred as she stumbled into Mary, spilling her drink onto the front of Mary’s New Year’s Eve dress and causing Mary’s Long Island iced tea to slosh out of her cup and over her fingers. Mary jumped back to try to avoid the spill but the crowd was so thick in Lizzie’s living room that there was nowhere for her to go.

“Hey, watch it!” a woman hissed and shoved her back with a hand between her shoulder blades, causing more Long Island iced tea to slop out of her cup and onto her hand.

Mary turned apologetically. “Sorry, some drunk just dumped her drink on me.”

“And you almost made me spill mine,” the woman snarled before turning her back on Mary as if she weren’t worth the time it would take to argue. Not that Mary wanted to fight, but really, did the woman have to be so dismissive? Her natural instinct was to shrink away, but she hesitated. She’d come to this New Year’s Eve party determined to break with her past and become the new, bold, assertive, fun woman she’d always wanted to be. She wanted to be someone who was comfortable in crowds—the natural life of the party. Would that person let this woman dismiss her out of hand like this?

Mary reluctantly decided she would. The new her might be willing to get into fights, but she wasn’t looking for one. She decided to give the woman a pass even as she worried that it was a sign she wasn’t really blossoming into her new self. Oh, well, baby steps, right? There will be plenty of other opportunities tonight to practice coming out of my shell and shining.

She looked around for the woman who had started this mess but the drunk hadn’t stopped to help clean up. Heck, she hadn’t even really looked at Mary either, not even as she was spilling her drink on her. Nobody had. Was she invisible? Why was nobody talking to her? Maybe she should just give up and go home—put off her New Year’s resolution for another year. Despite her best intentions, this wasn’t looking like the night to let down her hair, make some new friends and maybe have fun with some guy without having to envision walking down the aisle with him.

She tried to assess the damage to her new dress. Fortunately, she’d bought the black, fairly conservative one and not the slinky silver party dress with all the glitter. The silver one fit the new image she wanted to craft for herself but she just hadn’t been able to picture herself actually wearing it. It left too little to the imagination about the curve of her ass and just how much cleavage she could sport. At the time she’d worried she was letting herself down by not buying it, but in hindsight with some drunk’s drink in her lap, it was clear she’d made the better decision after all. Black would hide a stain a lot better than silver.

She bent over to get a better look at the damage. It was hard to tell for certain with people jostling her on all sides, but honestly, the stain didn’t look too bad—just a bit of a splash over her right thigh. She tried to bolster her confidence. With the people pressed as close together as they were, it probably wasn’t even noticeable. Maybe if she got a little soda water from the bar it would come right out when it dried.

She sighed. Cleaning a stain off her dress was something she did too often. The old her got overlooked all the time. She was supposed to stand out in the crowd now, be the life of the party, maybe groove to the music and get people dancing, find a guy and have some fun with him instead of simply staring from the sidelines as she always did. So why wasn’t she doing any of that?

She looked around for an opportunity to assert the new her. The party was rocking with the Black Eyed Peas blasting from the speakers and people all around her smiling, drinking and having a good time. Why couldn’t she relax enough to join in? She pictured herself catching the beat, moving with the music until her rhythm caught the attention of the room. She lifted her arms and tried to find her stride. It wasn’t easy. Even though she’d just worried that she was invisible, she now feared that every eye in the room was watching her.

But wasn’t that what she wanted?

 

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HAND OF THE MASTER By Madeleine Oh

HAND OF THE MASTER by Madeleine Oh

Dominant Lovers Series Book One

Helen Crewe goes to Les Santons for a new job and much needed change in her life. What greets her is fascinating work cataloging a library of erotic literature and illustrations. And then there is Luc, her definitely sexy and truly dominant employer.
 
Aided by his secretary Branko, Luc makes Helen feel very much at home on his estate overlooking the sea. It seems like the perfect situation—sunshine, great work and two eager Doms as lovers. Or it would be, if it weren’t for the break-in and violent attack on a fellow employee that quickly change the course of Helen’s idyllic escape.

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~Excerpt~

Helen turned, swiveling the chair. Luc stood in the doorway, smiling.

God! No employer had the right to be so sexy. A smile like his should be illegal, but it was also wonderful when aimed right at her.

“Good afternoon, Madame Crewe.”

“Hi.” Seemed a rather inadequate response to his warm, and decidedly enticing, French accent.
“Branko said you’d be back late.” As if it made any difference and what business was it of hers if her employer chose to walk into his own house earlier than expected?

He gave a very Gallic shrug. “My business was over and I wanted to review your progress.”

That was easy and safe enough.

Or was it? His gaze pretty much fixated on the leather manacles. As did hers, as he reached over her shoulder, not touching, but his arm came close enough for her to feel the warmth of his skin. He picked up the first restraint, running his fingers over the red leather.

“Ah,” he said, as the corner of his wide mouth twitched. “You found them.”

Obviously. And what was she to make of that comment? Did he know about the other contents of that box? “Yes,” she replied, forcing her voice to stay level. “An interesting collection. I wasn’t sure how they should be cataloged.”

His laugh came like warm honey across her skin. All that was needed was for him to lick it off. Whoa. Not a chance. She was not getting involved that way with him. Even if he did have eyes that promised wild pleasure and…

She gulped as he ran the silk lining over his hands. His fingers were long and slender and curled over the soft leather as if caressing it. And darn him, he was watching her. Gauging her reaction. At least she remembered to close her mouth.

“You wonder how to catalog them?” he asked, and smiled. “I’m not sure one can. How would you describe the contents of my box?”

His box? He’d put it there? “Assorted sex toys,” she replied, pleased she managed it without panting or gasping.

“Yes,” he replied. “The perfect description.”

Pretty basic and hardly that impressive. “An interesting collection. Has it been in your family long?” Sheesh. Where had that come from?

Wherever it came from, it made him happy, if the glint in his eyes was anything to go by. “No, not long, Mrs. Crewe.” He was still running the restraint through his fingers. There was something almost mesmerizing about the red leather against his skin. “And these are especially fine. Made in an atelier in Milan.” He took her hand in his and wrapped the manacle around her wrist. “See how well it fits? The glove leather is like a second skin.”

Yes, she did see, and feel. Was it the softness of the leather or the warm caress of silk lining that had her catching her breath? Could be his voice in her ear and the touch of his fingers against her skin. Or maybe she was just desperate for it.

Or him. So much for not getting involved with her employer. No man looked at a woman with that look in his eyes if all he was interested in was progress of the catalog.

No, that was… “What do you think, Madame Crewe?”

That she was getting horny and he was eminently fuckable. “Excellent workmanship. Italians have always been renowned for the quality of their leather work.” She sounded like a walking tourist brochure.

Amused him though. “Indeed they have. Now tell me,” as he spoke he tightened the buckle, securing the leather to her wrist,. “how does that feel?”

“Wonderful.” She’d blurted without thinking and it couldn’t be unsaid.

“You enjoy the caress of a restraint, Madame Crewe?”

He was heating her up, but still addressed her formally. The French really were different. “I used to.”

“Ah.” One syllable carried so much understanding. “When your husband was alive?”

She nodded. God, it had been so long.

“Forgive me. I intrude where I have no right.” He unbuckled the manacle and unwound it from her wrists. “My apologies. But the leather looked so fitting against your skin.” He turned, taking both the manacles with him. “Again forgive me. I will see you at dinner.”

He might have gone but his presence remained. Did all men here wear super-sexy aftershave? His left behind a faint whiff of bergamot. Forget his choice of perfume. What was she to make of that little episode? She closed her eyes, remembering the touch of his fingers on her skin and the pressure of silk and the scent of soft leather. Darn. She was reading far too much into one casual conversation.

And if she wasn’t?

Then she had some decisions to make.

And the rest of the box to catalog. She was pretty sure there wasn’t a Dewey Decimal code for Assorted Sex Toys. She’d better invent one. Fast.

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CHANGING ROOM by Veronica Tower

CHANGING ROOM by Veronica Tower

Playtime Series Book 3

On their tenth wedding anniversary, Edie and Jack vowed to reinvigorate their sex life and save their marriage through randomly selected fantasies. They’ve each had a turn but now the games are escalating, and Edie and Jack are growing bolder.

 Edie’s always wanted Jack to pay a little more personal attention to her. Acting as her personal shopper—picking out clothes to mold her curves, skimming his hands along her skin to check fit—should provide ample opportunity for him to pay attention to every tiny detail. Best of all, they don’t even have to leave the house, or her closet, for the fantasy. But Jack won’t settle for anything less than authentic. Edie better brace herself for Jack’s very personal, and very public, attention.

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Excerpt:

 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: CHANGING ROOM
Copyright © VERONICA TOWER, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Why don’t we give it a look?” Jack suggested. “If it’s really crowded, we’ll call it off. But I phoned in sick and we got here at,” he paused to check the clock on his phone, “ten in the morning because we want to make the backdrop of these fantasies as real as possible.” He coaxed her with a teasing grin. “You set the precedent with your streetwalker role and you’re always telling me I should listen to you more.”

Edie grimaced, not picking up on his humor at all. She was a beautiful, thirty year old African-American woman with long black hair and a damn good figure. He could still see in her the high school cheerleader he’d fallen in love with in Algebra class, but she’d matured into someone even more attractive. That soft, fresh bloom of youth had evolved into a natural, sensuous maturity. He could see it in her cheekbones, the line of her jaw and the light that brightened her eyes when she found something funny. He’d lost sight of that beauty too often over the past few years and he was really enjoying discovering it again.

“I don’t know, Jack,” Edie told him. “We almost got arrested the first time, and you could have lost your job if we’d gotten caught during our second fantasy.”

True, but since they’d gotten away with it both times, he didn’t find the argument convincing. He and Edie had been having a tough time these last few years and their physical relationship had gone from bad to non-existent. Then their marriage counselor, Dr. Phelps, had come up with this unique way to get them sleeping with each other again. She’d suggested that each of them write down three sexual fantasies on slips of paper and then draw one per week and act them out together. Jack had been highly skeptical, but willing to try anything if it let him start fucking his wife again. To his surprise the results of their first two experiments had been mind blowing and he really wanted to try it again.
“The worse that can happen here is that we get thrown out of the store,” Jack assured her. “And we chose a place that you don’t shop in anyway.”

A young mother pushed an infant in a stroller past them and Jack opened the heavy glass door for her. She thanked him as she maneuvered past.

Jack wanted to continue his conversation with Edie, but like most big stores, Grayson’s had a second set of glass doors to navigate right after the first. He slipped inside and held that one as well so the woman could push her stroller into the store.

Edie joined him in the little vestibule between the two sets of doors. “What if you’re wrong? What if they catch us and they do call the cops?”

Jack had to admit to himself that a 911 call was a potential problem. He didn’t think it was likely to happen, but it worried him just the same. If he admitted it to Edie, however, the whole game would be over before it began. “And why would they do that? Do you think they want this kind of publicity?”

“But what if they do?” Edie asked. Until this moment, Jack hadn’t realized just how nervous she was. He should have seen it right away. Chewing on her lip was a dead giveaway and she’d been chowing down on the scrumptious piece of flesh all morning.

He took her hands in his and caressed the backs of her fingers with his thumbs. “Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can head back home and play dress up in the living room. Or rethink the whole fantasy and come up with a better way to make it happen. I’m doing this today for you. If you’re not comfortable with my idea, then I’m not doing it right.”

Edie’s whole demeanor changed. The tension eased out of her shoulders and she appeared to breathe more easily.

Jack acted fast to preempt his wife from accepting his spontaneous offer. “Of course, it won’t be as much fun if we do it at home. Do you remember how shocked we were when that real streetwalker propositioned us?”

Edie chuckled. “The look on your face when she tried to join our party was priceless—not that I think that’s an argument for playing out game outside the house.”

Jack decided to ignore the second half of our statement. “The look on my face? What about yours? I thought you thought I might actually accept her offer.”

Edie’s chuckle grew into an actual laugh. “If you had they would have needed the police to pull me off of you.”

Jack laughed with her. “It still made the whole thing hot though. I mean, talk about your realism. You don’t get that at home.”

“No you don’t, but you also don’t get college kids almost catching us,” Edie told him. The mischievous smile on her face reassured Jack.

Before he could answer, she gave in and pulled open the inner door. “Oh hell, we’ll try it, but I think you should know I’m onto you. You’re getting off on the risk as much as you’re getting off on me.”

“Me?” Jack asked as he hurried to follow after her. “I seem to recall you enjoying some pretty climactic orgasms at my little makeshift spa. My shoulder still has a bruise on it where you bit me.”

“Shush!” Edie snapped with a quick look back at him. “If anyone overhears you, we won’t be able to do our thing.”

She picked up her pace, fingers tightening on her purse and began to search the aisles for the women’s clothing section.

Jack knew how to read the telltale signs. Edie was as excited by the risk of discovery as he was.

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MASSEUR by Veronica Tower

MASSEUR by Veronica Tower

Playtime Series Book 2

On their 10th wedding anniversary, Edie and Jack vowed to reinvigorate their sex life and save their marriage through randomly selected fantasies. First up was Jack's fantasy starring Edie as a common streetwalker.

Now it's Edie's turn to call the shots, and she wants a little TLC.

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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: MASSEUR
Copyright © VERONICA TOWER , 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One

Edie reached up to retrieve the breakfast bowl with the little folded pieces of paper inside it, an unusual twinge of hope sparking deep inside her body. The last time she and Jack had played this game, things had gotten really crazy, but it had still ended well. Who’d have thought that at the age of thirty she and her husband could still fool around in their car like a couple of horny teenagers? And who’d have thought that Jack would make the time to lie around cuddling with her afterward and talking about old times?

There was a smile on her face and a spring in her step as Edie turned around to place the bowl on the kitchen table.

Jack immediately reached for one of the folded up pieces, snatching up one of the slips of paper.
Edie’s good mood evaporated. “Hey!” she snapped at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to find out what we’re going to do for playtime this weekend,” Jack responded. His fingers never stopped opening the little piece of paper. He was a six-foot-two former high school quarterback with skin as white as Edie’s was dark. Unfortunately, while the high school glory years were twelve years in the past, he still liked to act as if he could run their household the same way he used to direct his team in the huddle.

Edie wasn’t putting up with that. “Well who says you get to be the one to choose the fantasy?”

Jack’s fingers stumbled as he looked up at her. “You picked last time. I thought this would be my turn. Doesn’t that seem fair to you?”

That did seem fair, but Edie still wasn’t happy with how Jack had taken control again. Dr. Phelps said these little fantasy games that they called playtime were supposed to bring them closer together. Edie didn’t feel close to Jack when he ran roughshod over her wishes. And she really didn’t trust him to play fair in this game. “Who’s to say you didn’t check out all of these pieces of paper over the course of the week and mark one so you could snatch it up like this and make us play another one of your fantasies?” she asked.

Jack frowned. He continued to hold the folded paper in his hands, but stopped opening it. “Who’s to say you didn’t do that?” he shot back at her.

It was just like him to try and turn the question back around on her. “I didn’t!” Edie told him.

“Neither did I!” Jack assured her.

“But how do I know?” Edie asked. “Last week when I picked, you mixed up the pieces of paper in the bowl and made me close my eyes. I think we should follow the same rules now.”

“All right, all right,” Jack grumbled as he tossed the paper back in the bowl.

Edie picked it up and refolded it. “Now close your eyes,” she told him.

Jack did as he was told and she relished the tiny victory. Then she mixed the five little folded slips of paper around with her fingers and told him he could pick one out.

Jack’s hand fumbled slightly for the edge of the bowl and then pulled out a slip of paper without any hesitation at all. “Can I open my eyes now?”

Edie didn’t like the sour expression on his face. “You know it’s unattractive when our kids pout, but it’s downright ugly when you do it!”

Jack laughed and started opening the new piece of paper. They’d started this game a week ago at the insistence of their marriage counselor. Edie had mixed feelings about the first game. On the one hand, it had succeeded in getting them to have sex for the first time in years, but the whole concept—Jack picking her up and paying her for sex like she was a streetwalker—still bothered Edie on some level. It had been hot and exciting—but there was no denying that their bumping and grinding had been sex and not lovemaking.

Still, Dr. Phelps seemed pleased with their experience. “It’s a start,” the woman had told them, “and you aren’t going to make any progress on your problems if you can’t make a start.”

Jack finished unfolding the piece of paper. “It’s one of yours,” he told her.

Edie leaned forward eagerly, wondering which one it was.

“Oh, Lord,” Jack said, grinning. “I thought you said you wanted romance.”

“I do want a little romance,” Edie insisted. “Which one is it?” She reached for the scrap of paper but he moved it away from her hand.

“Honestly, Edie,” he said. “This is one I could have come up with. After all your complaints about my streetwalker fantasy, you want exactly the same thing I did.”

“What are you talking about?” Edie snapped. This time she succeeded in snagging the slip of paper away from him. She turned it over so she could read her own handwriting.

I want to be teased and pampered by a professional masseur at a spa.

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SPRING BREAK by Kathy Kulig

SPRING BREAK - A Exotika Story by Kathy Kulig

Spring break beyond your wildest fantasies? If Justin Watkins can stop watching over his college students like Big Brother, he might convince the prim-and-proper Mariko Maguire to be his sex partner at the invitation-only adult club called TropiX.

Mariko is in Fort Lauderdale on business, trying to secure new clients for her PR firm. Abandoning prior commitments for one wickedly lustful evening - a one-night stand of kinky sex - was not on her agenda.

Carter Bosworth is looking for an evening of sex games during his layover in the tropical playground. He's a regular at TropiX and always open for a new thrill. His plans are sidetracked, but it may be to his benefit after all when he meets the beautiful Mariko.

The potent heat developing between Justin and Mariko tempts her into shedding her inhibitions, and an exploration in eroticism beyond her imagination develops at the fetish club.

 

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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site. <><> <><> <><> An Excerpt From: SPRING BREAK Copyright © KATHY KULIG, 2012 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. Mariko Maguire sat at the tiny patio table along Fort Lauderdale Strip fanning herself with an oversized postcard she’d found on the table. She managed to grab the seat the moment the couple clad in bikini and surfer shorts left. Calypso music blared from the Tiki bar as crowds of young people sipped frozen drinks and beer, munching on onion rings, raw mussels and clams. Scanning the group of spring breakers where everyone was dressed in bathing suits or T-shirts and shorts, Mariko noticed they were all at least twelve years younger than she. A twinge of regret hit her as she listened to the laughter and observed the young men and women flirting and having a good time. She’d missed her spring break in college. If she had gone with her friends that year instead of working would her life have been any different? She was the only fool wearing a business suit and heels. What had her boss been thinking to plan a conference during spring break? Thank God, she chose to do without the pantyhose this morning. She only hoped the physicians in her seminar—all men except for one woman—didn’t think her unprofessional for not wearing stockings. Screw it, this was South Florida. One more lecture and she would join the young kids in a bathing suit and hit the pool, maybe the ocean. Wow, were they really college aged? They looked so young. Or was she getting old? Thirty-four wasn’t old, she tried convincing herself. She envied the carefree looks on their faces and wondered how many were involved in a summer romance, experiencing the passionate exhilaration of a brief affair, knowing it would be over when classes started. Even promises of “we’ll keep in touch” or “we’ll find a way to see each other” never happened, or so she’d heard. What would she give to have had that heated spontaneity just once? After a divorce was there any spontaneity in dating anymore? Maybe she expected too much. A young woman in a skimpy bikini leaned against a handsome guy at the bar. His hands roamed over her hips and slid dangerously close to skimming her breasts. His thigh was planted between her slim legs and she dry humped him with the slightest movement. Mariko grew hotter in the ninety-degree heat and her pussy gave a twitch, responding to the sensual display. God, she was horny. The thought of having a man running his hands over her while she was half naked—better yet, completely naked—was turning her on. She would enjoy a naked dip in the pool with cool water caressing her skin, while a man massaged her breasts, touched her pussy and stimulated her clit. Touch me here, lower, harder, slip a finger inside me, pinch my nipples, yes, like that… He’d obey each command, pleasuring her in all ways. Mariko released a long exhale, her body tingling from her thoughts. Only in my dreams. Mariko shifted in her seat and averted her eyes from the couple’s public display. She noticed a few guys around the bar had also begun watching them. Maybe they liked being watched. The throbbing in her pussy increased and her nipples tightened. Damn, after the seminar she was stripping out of her suit, getting into her bathing suit and taking a long, exhausting swim in the ocean. She sighed. Where was the waiter with her virgin piña colada? She’d skipped the alcohol since she was giving the afternoon lecture. If the last lecture went anything like the morning one, maybe she should add the rum. These doctors were tough. She wouldn’t be surprised if she went home without one new client. Why did her company decide to plan a conference during spring break? Was she the only one not on spring break here? The bar was four rows deep and she doubted she’d ever see the bartender again, but if she got up, she’d lose the table. Forget about ordering food, she didn’t have time. A hint of a sea breeze drifted in off the ocean and she lifted her face to capture every bit of coolness. She opened her blouse by two buttons and pulled the silk material away from her breasts. Her plum lace bra showed a bit, but who cared with all this half-naked flesh walking around? No one was noticing the older thirty-something sitting at a table by herself. She fanned inside her blouse, but the small postcard did little to cool her off. Glancing at the card, she read TropiX Exclusive Lifestyle Impressions, by invitation only. Applications accepted at: There was a website address and no other contact information. The card was plain, shaded in gray, black and white with silhouetted palm trees, with a couple embracing between the trees. She flipped the card over but it was blank. She frowned. The bartender arrived with her drink. He, too, looked about fourteen. “Like to charge it to your room, ma’am?” Ma’am? God, do I look that old? “Sure, thanks.” She held up the card. “Do you know what this is?” The bartender gave her a half smirk and a dark look. “Private sex club.” “Strip club?” “No, sex club. People meet at the club to have sex. Pretty upscale place.” She tried not to sound shocked. “Ah, I’ve heard of them.” Sort of. “Ever go?” Heat rushed to her face and her pulse kicked up several beats. Images of a room filled with a dozen or so people engaged in one giant orgy. Hands of several men touching her intimately at the same time, what would that be like? What kinds of people go to places like that? Would she ever have sex with more than one man at the same time? Never. She felt slick and damp between her legs, and surprisingly aroused by the thought of participating in such an experience. Must be the heat. “No, I’ve heard people talk about it. Why, do you want to go?” the bartender asked. She shrugged. Probably not. Was she being old fashioned? She wanted to keep up with the times, but this was a bit extreme. “I don’t know. Might be interesting.” She signed the check, then sipped her drink. “Interesting? I could think of a few other words for TropiX.” The bartender seemed amused.

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CATCALLING CATHERINE by Cheryl Dragon

CATCALLING CATHERINE by Cheryl Dragon

Call it a compliment. Call it offensive. The whistles and shouts of hot, young construction workers have become Catherine's latest sexual obsession. To protect her professional reputation, Catherine uses a service to fulfill her blue-collar fantasy and the two men hired for the job, complete with hard hats and hard-ons, do it just right. Problem solved - or so she thought.

One fantasy isn't enough for Tony. Catherine failed to recognize him as part of the crew who remodeled her office. After the best sex of his life, he wants more - their combined fantasies with no services, no secrets. Anywhere, anytime and anything she wants, if she can handle a little reality in her fantasy life.

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An Excerpt From: CATCALLING CATHERINE

Copyright © CHERYL DRAGON, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Walking back to her office building with her lunch, Catherine enjoyed the warm summer sun. New York had fabulous weather today and she ignored the noisy traffic and construction. Luckily she wasn’t walking with a judge or legal colleague. It was inevitable.

The hooting and whistling from the construction workers began as soon as she was in sight and continued after she’d passed by. Catherine had worked hard to make partner at the prestigious old law firm Archibald and Whitney. At forty-four she’d achieved her career goals and wasn’t about to let harassing men keep her from a nice day. Still, she’d learned not to conduct any work walking by construction workers.

She simply pressed her lips together and looked away. Ice queen, an unoriginal nickname around the firm, but she took pride in it. The only female partner, she hadn’t slept her way to the top. She’d won her cases and worked hard. Professional was professional and anything personal remained completely separate. When in doubt, she did what a man would do and beat them at their own game.

When she entered the building, Catherine relaxed a bit. Once in her thirtieth floor office, she felt in charge again. The dark wood and marble desk, the huge windows and the legal admins who feared her…this was her element.

Still the dirty comments of sweaty and muscled men hung in her mind. Her body reacted completely opposite to her mind. The tingling of arousal had to be ignored in favor of work.

Unwrapping her sandwich, Catherine spotted her admin peeking in the slightly open door. Catherine waved Sara in. “It’s beautiful outside. Go get some air.” The only downside of her office was the huge windows didn’t open.

“I need to study. Maybe I should try it outside?” The pretty young woman smiled. “Here are your messages.”

“Thanks. I’m not sure you’d get any actual studying down with those construction workers. I don’t know what they think will happen, making all that noise.”

“You let them get to you. Just smile, put your ear buds in and act like you can’t hear them. They do it for the reaction.” Sara shrugged.

“They’re not children.” Catherine wanted to be outraged but the image of many of them, shirtless but for the bright safety vests, wet her sexual appetite. The hard hats. The sunglasses. The muscles.

“Catherine? Hello?” Sara snapped her fingers. “You okay? Maybe you got too much sun. You work too hard. Take half a day off.”

Shaking off the fantasy, Catherine bit into her sandwich. “I’m fine. It’s humid out there.”

“Okay, I’m going to the coffee shop downstairs. Want anything?”

“Caramel coffee. Iced. Thanks.” Catherine handed over some cash and tried to focus on the messages Sara left.

As soon as the door closed, Catherine pulled out her private cell phone. All summer with these construction workers would make her crazy. She needed to get rid of the fantasy or she’d do something stupid.

She logged in to her private account at Elite Fantasy Match and reviewed the fantasy she’d input last week. It wasn’t posted, only in review for her eyes. The service matched people discreetly to fulfill fantasies. No real names, never at home, they used an upscale hotel and false names plus a safe word to break the fantasy roll play scenario.

The service had saved her several times over the years. Always safe and discreet, that was exactly what she needed. A judge she’d dated as a young lawyer introduced her to it. No wild clubs or key parties permitted if you wanted to make partner or be a judge someday. That guy turned out to be too kinky for Catherine’s tastes but she used the service still.

The fantasy was basic, uptight executive woman needs to be roughly satisfied by two hot construction workers. They catcalled her and she had them written up. It was silly back story but it added a layer for her. In the notes, it spelled out what was acceptable and her limits. Her pussy throbbed just reading it over. Her trembling thumb activated the fantasy request.

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