Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Victoria pulled away from my lips, smiled and said, "Sorry. Couldn't help myself," and laughed, and fondled my bum.
"You are so...incredible," I sighed, and slapped her perfect ass. "Thank you, Victoria," I sighed, and pecked her glossy lips for the last time. Or was it? I thought.
I stumbled my way back to my seat and tried to collect myself. Victoria came by later, placing yet another drink on my mat, her hand, as always, on my shoulder. "There you go, Chloe. I thought you might need it," she chuckled, and went off to the other flyers.
I messaged Maisie and told her I had 'broken up' with Victoria. She replied with a sad-faced emoji, then a more succinct message a few minutes later.
It probably wasn't easy, but if it's not right, it's not right. So proud of my...little one. xx
Bitch, is all I thought, and laughed.
We shook hands cordially on departure. I walked down the gangplank and didn't look back.
The rest of the week went well. I had numerous conversations with Arabella, mostly professionally. I told her that Markus, my assistant, would be out with me Wednesday for a meeting. Her eyes lit up at the news. I told her that Maisie was helping with the budget and would be down with me at some point soon. Her smile thrilled me.
Markus and I headed down to Sussex separately. It would be much easier if he drove down too, as I may be spending more time at hers. I packed a few extra clothes in my car...just in case. Well, a gal's gotta be prepared, hmm? I was so damn excited on my drive down, leaving Richmond a bit later than I would have liked. When I pulled into Arabella's drive, I saw Markus's car. Oops.
I sat there and collected my thoughts, and my breath! I rapped the heavy knocker and in moments, the door opened, Arabella's beautiful smile filling me. I mouthed, 'Hi,' but luckily, my smile betrayed my heart seizure. Her lips pursed elegantly, as she whispered a tiny, "Hi", and opened the door for me. I stepped in and she embraced me, her lips on my ear, murmuring, "Your colleague is just in there...darling," and my heart leapt. Her lips were tantalisingly close; all I had to do....needed to do, was lean forward. Just a bit, but Arabella went into client mode.
"Chloe! It's so good to see you again. Please. Come in. Markus is just through there,
okay? C'mon. Tea?" she smiled, her hand squeezing mine. We broke away as we walked to the kitchen, Markus comfortably in a chair sipping his drink.
We had a bit of mindless chit-chat, trying not to let our body language show. I unpacked my laptop, notes and designs. I had Markus start with his preliminary budget, Arabella was more interested in the plantings and design than the costings, but she sweetly listened. However, her eyes wandered to mine too often.
"Behave!" I mouthed silently.
Arabella pouted as only she could. I was standing behind Markus, peering over his shoulder at the costings, but my eyes were undressing Arabella...and she knew it. After an hour of his estimations, he excused himself to take more detailed measurements. My heart skipped a beat or three.
"Fabulous, Markus. I...I'll go over a few more...details with Mrs. Murphy, 'kay?" I smirked at her.
I had Arabella sit and I stood behind her, one eye on the garden to see where Markus was. I leaned over her shoulder, as if pointing to a graph, my hand on her shoulder, then down and covering her soft, full breast. I leaned to her ear and whispered, "I can't wait to get you...alone, Belle," I said, as sultrily as possible.
Arabella tried to move the chair back to stand, but I stood firmly in the way.
"Sit, chérie. Just stay...there," I breathed quietly.
I saw Markus had made his way to the end of the property, just before the woodland took over. I took my hands and swept them over Arabella's face and through her hair.
"Do you have any idea what you've done to me...Belle" I sighed, playing with her hair now.
She leaned her head back and looked up at me.
"Kiss me..." she sighed.
"I want to do so much more than kiss you, Belle," I smiled, continuing to use my 'pet' name for her.
"Then do it, Chloe," she groaned.
I moved from her chair, and she pushed it away and stood. We looked at each other, then outside, and she took the two steps to me. She grabbed my hand, dragging me behind her. I laughed a low, sexy moan, as she pulled me to a hallway, pushing me against the wall and looking at me. I waited. And waited, her hands tenderly touching my face, my neck and shifting over my covered bosom. She cupped her hands gingerly over my breasts, leaned in, and kissed, her thumbs pressing on my urgent nipples.
It was a slow, romantic kiss, but as our hands roamed, our kisses turned deeper and more insistent.
"Ohhh, Belle. I--kiss--I've--kiss--missed--kiss--you--kiss--so--kiss--much," I croaked.
"My--mmmmm--little--mmmmm--girl--oooooh--Chlo--you--mmmmm," she fretted, her hips rubbing on my leg, as we tangled with each other.
We broke away for a moment, our eyes piercing the other. I caught my breath, and stammered, "Okay. Enough. Just...Oh, God, Belle...we...stop...I...I have wor--oooooh, my..." I whimpered, and slid from her tender grip.
She smirked maddeningly at me, not quite believing what I had said.
"I'm...I'm serious. We have to...stop," I pleaded.
"Have it your way, darling. For now," she smiled. "C'mon, let's fix your hair. You look a delightful mess, darling. C'mere, okay?" she sighed, and sorted me out, tucking loose strands of my hair back in place and her finger sliding across my glossy lips. I let out an involuntary sigh, my vagine beginning to itch.
I hastily joined Markus, reviewing the plans and showing him what I wanted and where. He queried the trees I wanted, saying that would entail a crane and some special expertise, given the house layout and garden area.
"And...?" I replied, not interested in the problems, but in how he would work around them.
He smiled and said, "They were right about you, hmm?" he laughed.
"Probably, Markus. So...you can find us a solution, I assume?" I asked.
"Working on it right now, Chloe. We'll be fine," he grinned, and pulled out his phone.
He did credit me with the design though and was getting used to my work rate and expectations.
I walked back to the house, not bothering Arabella with our conversation. This was meant to be stress-free for her, which is how I would run the project. I sat down and made a few more notes, then adjusted the design to accommodate more plants. I showed Arabella several annexes, anxious to get the plan signed off. I held her hand, metaphorically, a regular process with clients unsure of their vision. I gave her various options, but not too many. I wanted to make the final decision easy for her. I left the brochures with her to look over at her leisure, but stressed she couldn't take weeks to decide. She kept trying to entice me to play, her none-too-subtle flirting and touches distracting me. Exasperated, I threw my pencil down and grabbed her hand.
"What...? Where are you...?" she asked, as I pulled her along behind me.
I opened the door to the tack room, the slightly earthy, almost sweet smell of leather hitting my nose immediately. I pulled her in and slammed the door shut.
What are you..." she began, but I cut her words off with a single finger raised to her. lips.
"What did I say, Arabella? Hmm? When I'm working, I'm working, right? I did tell you, hmm? It looks like I may have to," and I chose a riding crop, "show you what I mean, hmm?" I said, sternly. "Hands on the table. Now!" I almost barked. Arabella leant over, her head hanging low now. I ran my fingers along the supple shaft, my fingers squeezing the worn leather tab at the end. I tapped her bum twice with the nub, brought my arm back and swatted her glorious ass.
"Ohhhhh, fuc--myyyyy..." she squealed, as the crop smacked her butt again. She wasn't expecting the second, or third whack, her head turned pleading to me with her soft blue eyes.
"You'll listen to me now, Belle?" I asked. "If you're not sure, I can do this again...and again," I callously said. When she didn't answer, I paddled her again, the sound reverberating in the small room.
"Okay...Okay! Damn you, Chloe," she huffed. "You weren't kidding, were you?" she said, rubbing her bum.
Emboldened, I walked to her and lifted her chin with the crop, her eyes on mine.
"Work is work--play is play, 'kay?" I said, her eyes boring into mine.
"Okay," she sighed, somewhat meekly. "Sorry."
I hung the crop up, and engulfed her in my arms, my hands soothing her aching ass, and kissed her.
"C'mon, now. We have plans to decide, 'kay?" I smiled, and took her hand.
We sat at the table and reviewed the detailed plans again, getting her assent on the plants, the design and shape, where the annexe would be and what stone and metal work she wanted. She acted as if the tack room had never happened, as she happily became engrossed, again, in what we were creating. This was all for her, after all!
She made us a lovely lunch, all sitting together and getting to know each other better. I had never worked with Markus, but we found our place with each other. He had sourced a crane and all we needed was a date for him to confirm. It would be several months away but I wanted everything in place. Arabella was the perfect hostess, preparing a wonderful lunch, topped off with her homemade sponge cake. She behaved around me now, but I expected nothing else.
Markus and I walked around the garden countless times, as he threw different ideas around. He brought up the idea of shaping a path through the woods, either for walking or jogging. I thought it was an idea worth exploring, so he set off to see how viable the idea was. He's okay, I thought. I went back to the house, talked with Arabella about minor changes and broached the idea of a path through the woods, telling her it may fall within her budget, but we'd have to see.
I helped her clear the lunch plates and we stood side by side at the butler sink.
"How's your bum, darling?" I smirked.
"Humph!" she smirked. "It's going to need...kissing later, hmm?" she smiled.
"It'll be my pleasure, sweetie. Not expecting family?" I asked, hopefully, as she handed me a plate to dry.
"No...just me. All alone. In this big house. Whatever will I do tonight, hmm?" she teased.
"Well, I think your little one is coming around four, so you'll have company then," I smiled, drying another tea cup.
"Is she really? Tonight? She's...staying? All night?" she beamed, excitedly, her hands washing a stray pan now.
"All night, chérie. If you want her to," I teased her right back.
"There's nothing I would like more, Chloe," she sighed, her eyes full of love. "Perhaps, if Markus leaves, she'll show up early?" she asked, clearly excited about our prospective role-play, holding a plate in her hand, waiting for me to take it. I looked into her lustful eyes and creamed myself.
"I hope so, Belle. I...I think your little girl misses you, hmm?" I smirked. "I'm glad I invited her, darling. I wasn't sure but..."
"Ohh, Chloe. Thanks for inviting her. As much as I've missed you, well, I...I've missed her, too," she blushed slightly.
"Just be nice to her, 'kay?" I said, talking about her in the third person, which added to the eroticism. "I've heard she's been a bit, uhm, naughty this week so...I'm sure you can help to get her back on the right track, hmm?" I sighed, my body shivering with all this talk.
"Well, the first thing she'll see to is my...butt. It still hurts, Chloe," she giggled, me not believing a word of what she said.
"And then...what, hmm? What else will you do to your...little one, hmm?" I said, teasing myself more than her, as I put the now-dry plate down.
"Hmmm," she faux thought. "I guess we should take a shower first, hmm? I do love a clean baby-girl," she said, lustily. "Then I think I'll have to slap her beautiful...little...tits, hmm? You did say she's been naughty, hmm?" she gushed.
"Ohhhh, fuc--Belle...that's...just perfect," I moaned, rubbing my pelvis against the countertop.
Arabella looked at me, her smile growing and whispered, "Touch yourself, Chloe. Right now! Let me see you...touch yourself," she gasped.
I could think of nothing at this moment, only my basest urge to comply...and cum.
My hands trailed under my loose dress, my fingers dipping into my wet panties. I looked at Arabella, our eyes glazed and wide open, as I tended to my growing desire.
"Like...like...this," I huffed, fingers sliding so fucking easily through my soaked labia.
I had my free hand on the counter, hoping it would support me. Arabella kept her distance, her eyes raping me, as I fingered my wanton cunt.
"That's it...baby-girl," she moaned, her hands rubbing her covered breasts, her hair in her face, as she watched me masturbate in her pristine kitchen.
I couldn't believe I was doing this. I should have been working! Isn't this what I had told Arabella, what we had agreed?
In a minute, I told myself, and held her eyes, my fingers slipping through me and twitching my nub. I could feel my face flush, and my knees weaken as I stared at this woman who had this control over me.
"Do it, Chloe. Do it for...me," she snickered, mocking me almost.
I rubbed my firm, but slippery nib, and reimagined spanking Arabella's arse. "Now...little one," she demanded, and I orgasmed, falling to my knees and frigging my vagine. My head lay on the Cotswold tiled floor, as I jammed my fingers inside my cunt, any decorum long gone. The pulses didn't stop; one brilliant surge after another swept through my body. My grunts filled the room, but I couldn't, wouldn't stop this self-abuse until I was a quivering mess on the warm floor. I leaned over, my head on the tiles now and I looked up at...my Belle. She hadn't moved, only looking down at her intoxicated little one. My hands left my sopping panties, as I tried to stand. Only then did she offer me her hand. I wrapped my arms around her, otherwise, I would have fallen back to the floor. She tenderly moved my dishevelled hair from my face, her lips touching my head.
"There, there, Chloe. All better now?" she asked, facetiously. "Did you bring any spare clothes? Where are they, darling? In your car?" she murmured.
I could barely nod, 'yes,' as she walked me to her front room.
"Keys?" she asked, and I managed to say, "Bag," She went to my hold-all and then hurried out the front door. Moments later, she returned with my overnight bag and helped me upstairs. She opened one of the bedroom doors, unsure if I could take another set of stairs.
"Take your time, darling. I'll see to Markus, okay?" and kissed me, closing the door behind her.
I opened my bag, pulled out a pair of fresh panties, and went to the ensuite. I looked at myself in the mirror and laughed.
What the fuckity fuck, Chloe! I admonished myself. Get a grip...tart! and giggled.
I washed my face, my body rushing with all these post-orgasmic chemicals. Fuckity fuck, I thought, then changed my panties. It's all her fault, I told myself. I'm the fucking professional here, aren't I?
I calmed myself down, deep breaths and all, and rolled the ruined panties up, stashing them in my bag. I brushed my hair and laughed at myself again and headed downstairs. Luckily, Markus was just walking up the garden to the house. I quickly sat down and opened my laptop, just as he walked in.
"Everything good?" I asked, hoping my voice wouldn't betray my swirling emotions.
"I think so. Here, I'll show you what I think will work," and he sat with us and ran through his ideas with us.
Arabella seemed keen, so he walked us out and into the woods, explaining how it might look. Her hand kept slipping against mine, as we followed him on his makeshift path. Yeah, it made sense.
"This could work, Markus. Well done! Work that into your budget and we'll have a good look at it," I said, and we headed back to the house.
It was nearing three, so I thanked him and told him he could take off.
"There are a few things I need to go over with Arabella, but you can try and beat the rush hour, 'kay?" I told Markus.
He was more than happy to leave the 'wilds' of Sussex, whereas I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be. Well, except for Edinburgh, but...
He packed everything up and we saw him off, telling him I'd see him in the morning. When his car was out of view, Arabella closed the door, shutting us in. Together.
"Let's go to the front room, Chloe. Why don't we relax and talk for a bit, hmm?" she suggested, lowering the erotic tension tenfold.
"Would you show me some of your recent work? I'd like to see what you do, 'kay?" I asked, and she was surprised. She smiled and left the room, returning with two catalogues.
"Here are a few of the homes I've worked on, darling. I'm surprised you even want to see them," she said, incredulously.
"And why wouldn't I, hmm? I've said I want to know you, Belle. This is an ideal way. When we're in this creative area, well, of course, my interest is piqued. C'mon. Show me," I badgered her. She handed me the thick catalogue and I flicked through the pages, stunned by the beautiful rooms she had designed.
"Our work isn't too different, Chloe. We both bring our client's vision to reality, hmm? Sure, your canvas is larger, but we both use the same palette, hmm? We both work with space, texture, contrast and colour. I do it within the confines of a room, or series of rooms, and you do it outside," she explained. "And yes, I've had my share of fussy clients!" she laughed. "Just like you must source new ideas, I'm the same. I spend a lot of time out looking for ideas and inspiration."
"So, where did this all start for you? What were you like growing up?" I asked.
Arabella laughed and took a deep breath.
"My family was extremely wealthy, so I enjoyed all the perks that went along with that. You know, in summer it was all tennis and Glyndebourne, in winter we'd ski in France and Switzerland. I was lucky, Chloe. I went to a private all-girls school where the syllabus was slanted more into the arts and humanities. It's also where I, uhm, dipped my toes into the sapphic pond," she giggled.
I had to chuckle at her confession.
"Lucky girl," I smiled.
Arabella certainly reeked of money, but not the arrogance that sometimes comes with that inherent wealth. She was a heady mix of New York and Goa, her vibe definitely the subtle, but elegant, boho, chic Sussex, but with her own worldly twist. She wore her expensive clothes, as if she had been born into them...which it turns out, she had! Her work was stunning. Understated and unassuming, but also dramatic and serious.
"Have you ever turned down a client, you know, refused to take a commission for some reason?" I asked.
"When I started out, no. I needed to make my name, and so did all sorts of obnoxious rooms I'm truly embarrassed about now. As my name grew, well, I was able to be more selective and took only those clients whose concepts and vision worked with mine. Again, Chloe, I've been fortunate," she sighed. "Don't get the wrong idea, Chloe. I've done this on my own. My parents' money is theirs. They made that very clear from an early age. I've had to do this on my own."
We spent ages going through her designs. I was enthralled. Arabella had her hand on my shoulder, pointing out a feature or design in some room. She had a gentle, deft touch with her layouts, everything down to the light switches working together.
