August 16, 2006

TSOTF, Part 3

His thoughts of his son and his own father changed his mood considerably. He was no longer appreciative of his young wife’s playful invitation for sex. Rather he was driven by his need to prove his masculinity and virility. When she tugged his hand, leading him to the bedroom, he grasped her wrist tightly, and pulled her from the hallway, deciding that his office was the perfect place for a morning fuck.

His office was his domain, where he was omnipotent in business and women. He couldn’t count all of the women he’d taken on the supple leather sofa across from his desk when Ellen had still shared his bed. His marriage to Kate had left him little time or energy for such extracurricular activities beyond an occasional indulgence in the seventeen year old granddaughter of the gardener, and the high-priced call girls his assistant arranged for him when traveling on business.

Kate followed him into his office, surprised that he would allow her entrance to the room that had been off-limits to her their entire marriage. Only once had he permitted her inside, and even then it was for a quick sexual favor while he was on hold with an associate in London. He’d been holed up in his office for early two full days, and had sent Lena, the maid, to find his wife. The maid had more access to her husband than she had.

Martin closed the door behind him, and slipped out of his dark gray suit coat, tossing it across one of the stiff chairs opposite the enormous mahogany desk that sat to his right. Martin had always believed that whomever sat across from him needed to feel as physically uncomfortable as he intended to make them feel mentally. He’d often bragged that he enjoyed seeing their discomfort.

That half of his office dedicated to business was darkly furnished, with tall bookcases, numerous matching file cabinets and his computer and a fax machine, which was currently spitting out the pages of a thick document that would undoubtedly be the focus of his attention the remainder of the day. By contrast, the rest of his office was softer. A long leather sofa figured prominently in a casual seating arrangement anchored by an antique rug in deep reds and browns. The walls featured dozens of framed photos from his travels, a curious mixture of beautiful landscapes and stark photos of the poverty he had encountered.

She turned her attention to the man she’d married three years ago tomorrow. As he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, her eyes watched his hands. She’d always loved his hands, strong, soft and knowing when it came to her pleasure. She smiled slightly, and let her silk robe fall to the floor.

Martin focused on Kate as he draped his shirt atop his coat. She enjoyed teasing him, so he indulged her. Had she simply been another sexual conquest, he would never have tolerated such adolescent behavior, but he truly loved her, despite the vast differences between them that went beyond their ages.

He leaned back against his desk, pulling his belt from his slacks as she pushed the tiny straps off her shoulders, and the silky gown slipped below her full breasts, stopping its descent over her hips when she bent her arms, catching the straps in her inner elbows. He smiled with appreciation, and raised a brow indicating he wished to see more of her. She complied, and let the gown fall to her feet, watching as desire twisted his smile, hardening his features while bringing life to his eyes.

“Touch yourself,” he said, his voice low and breathy. Her fingertips glided across her sun-kissed skin to her sex. He was so intently focused on watching her fingers that he didn’t hear his cell phone ringing until she hesitated, and stopped. He reached into his coat pocket, withdrew his sleek phone, and flipped it open.

“McKay,” he said, unable to hide his irritation. His eyes shifted to the clock above the sofa, and he nodded his head. “Five minutes.” He flipped shut his phone, and returned it to his pocket.

“I have a flight to catch. An urgent business meeting I cannot postpone.” When he saw her face, he quickly added, “I’m sorry Katherine, but I promise to make it up to you when I return.”

“You promised you would be here tomorrow,” she snapped angrily, not caring if she upset him. He glared at her as he pulled his shirt on, irritated with her childish tantrum.

“It cannot be helped,” he offered, adjusting the uncomfortable stiffness in his slacks. “The investors in Rome are demanding a meeting. Perhaps when I return we can go to the islands for a few weeks.”

“How long will you be gone?” she asked, slipping her arms into the silk robe and snatching her gown from the floor with a pout. He smiled, knowing he’d be forgiven before he left for the jet. Adjusting his sleeves in his coat, he walked to his beautiful wife, and pulled her into his arms.

“I am so sorry, darling,” he cooed to her. “No more than a week. I promise. I love you, Katherine.” He took her face in his hands, and kissed her sweetly before walking out of his office. She stood still, listening to the sound of his shoes against the slate floor fading.

“He was wrong about you. That was a convincing performance.” Kate turned to see Jack standing between the open French doors. She knew he would be waiting for his father to leave, but hadn‘t thought he‘d be watching them so closely. She wondered if he had been as aroused by her as Martin had. Lips parted seductively, she dropped her robe to the floor again, and continued what she had started.

Posted by *Theresa* at August 16, 2006 06:02 AM

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And then? And THEN?

Posted by: Wanda at August 16, 2006 08:59 AM

Ack! I'm suppossed to be working!

Posted by: oddybobo at August 16, 2006 11:55 AM

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