Lynda's Confession (m/f/m)

Cobblestone Press LLC

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 45,000
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Lynda Xenos was a year out of a divorce and chances for new love were slim. She believed turning thirty-five would be the death of her romantic prospects. But an unexpected, erotic encounter with her bosses showed a side of herself she’d never known existed. Reason told her not to risk her career for a fling, but the forbidden, erotic promise of Dustin and John tantalized her beyond rational thought. After a weekend of sensual discovery, Lynda would have to decide if she could embrace her budding submissive nature and take a chance on a relationship with two men…two Doms.

Lynda's Confession (m/f/m)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Lynda's Confession (m/f/m)

Cobblestone Press LLC

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 45,000
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Sexual frustration could make a woman insane. I was pretty sure of it. I was thirty-four and hadn’t had a man in my mouth in over a year. It didn’t help that I worked with two of the hottest men alive. At least, that’s the way my neglected pussy made the world look.

Dustin Crowne and John Michaels were in the office with me. Though we were coworkers, I considered them friends. If I didn’t work with them, one would probably be my lover by now. They were both drop-dead gorgeous and had an easy charm that assured them any woman they wanted.

But office affairs never turned out well, especially for the woman. It was a truth that had become cliché. Only a fool started a relationship with a coworker, let alone a boss, and I was no fool. At least, not usually. Besides, I wasn’t even a year out of a divorce and wasn’t interested in just one night of sweaty fun. I needed something more than a meaningless hookup.

There were times that I could be foolish but, considering how long I’d been without cock, I had proved that I was a woman with self-discipline. I owned an assortment of sex toys that took the place of a man and kept me from going out of my mind.

Dustin, grandson of the founder of the company and my direct boss, studied our notes for the conference call coming up at three o’clock. He had a private office attached to the open workplace John and I shared, but he worked with us more often than not. He had blue eyes and black hair, prematurely streaked gray at the temples. The gray made him look even more delicious as he concentrated on the reading material. He managed to stay focused on work yet exuded an aura of sexual hunger.

I sometimes wondered if he knew just how sexy and alluring he was. But then I remembered just how many times I’d seen his picture in a newspaper or magazine. Always with some gorgeous girl in her twenties looking up at him with god-like adoration in her eyes as she eased her perfect ass and doctor-assisted boobs into the back of one of the family-owned limousines. Dustin usually looked annoyed by the paparazzi sticking their cameras in his face.

I always imagined that the next scene, after the doors closed, was her slowly sliding down the zipper of his trousers and pulling out his cock. He was well known to be generous in size, and I fantasized that she’d give him a blow job with the kind of élan that only a young woman who really was infatuated—and hoped to get a pair of diamond earrings out of the evening’s activity—could give.

I frequently reminded myself that I shouldn’t think about Dustin and John and how skillful they must be in bed. I was a month away from turning thirty-five and was a divorcee without any hard feelings that I’d admit to. Although, there were a host of other people who would explain that I was pissed about getting fucked over by certain men formerly in my life. After what I’d been through, I wasn’t the kind of woman who would let herself get seduced by someone she worked for.

The truth of it was that I worked for both Dustin and John. Dustin was the VP of Business Development, which was the corporate way of saying he was the buyer. John was the senior analyst, and I was the junior analyst. That put me beneath both. Professionally, at least. And I’d say to anyone who would listen that women who sleep with their boss are goddamned fools.

I was almost thirty-five and sexually frustrated. Thirty-five was on the verge of being ancient. I once did a Google search that informed me that women thirty-five and older who weren’t married have about a zillion-to-one chance of ever getting married. They might have children but they’ll raise them alone. Which was why the big three-five was an awful milestone.

“Hello? Earth to Lynda? Do you copy?” Dustin’s voice intruded on my thoughts.

I blinked several times then narrowed my eyes severely and glared at him. I was trying to intimidate him and, while there were a lot of men I can intimidate, these two men were not among them. I doubted they were intimidated by anyone.

“I was thinking about that Worthington deal and got lost in the thought vortex,” I said, lying through my teeth but smiling rather believably. “Sorry.”

Dustin and John gave me half-smiles, and I held eye contact for only a second or two. That was enough for my pussy to remind me of its presence and that I’d been neglecting it.

I resolved to pay attention to my needs as soon as I got home. But while in the company of my bosses, minutes away from our weekly conference call with the executive committee, allowing my libido to dominate my concentration was out of the question.

Later, while wearing very attractive lingerie and with an assortment of toys on hand, I had every intention of letting my libido off the leash. I needed the orgasms at the end of the journey to make me feel as though the top of my head had come off.

Pretty lingerie always made me feel pretty and sexy. Not trashy lingerie—nothing with latex or leather—but silks and satins. Nice stockings. High-heels that made my legs look a mile long. Wearing those made the whole room hotter even when I was the only person in the room.

I visualized my favorite insertion vibrator and how it felt when I pressed it against my clit then slid it between the lips of my pussy. How the sensation was magnified when I pushed the incredibly lifelike dildo between the cheeks of my ass, shoving it up deep so that I could feel both dildo and vibrator close together but still separated by a thin wall of flesh. My clit always got swollen, throbbing and pulsing and—

“Lynda, are you with us?” John asked. “Your face is all flushed. What in hell are you thinking about?” His classic blond-haired, blue-eyed looks were distracting as hell.

Since the truth was the last thing in the world I was going to tell John, I looked him right in the eyes, and then pretended to have a coughing fit.

Both Dustin and John hurried over and patted me on the back. Their move was a little surprising since, in the months that I had worked with them, they’d gone out of their way never to touch me. They seemed to try to avoid looking at me salaciously, but sometimes I caught them watching me with lust in their eyes. I liked those moments but always pretended not to notice.

“Excuse me,” I said, pressing a fist to my mouth. “I’ll be back in just a minute.” I stepped out of the office and went straight to the bathroom down the hall. Dustin had a private bath attached to his office, and I knew he wouldn’t object if I used under the circumstances, but a couple minutes away would give me time to regain my sanity, which seemed to have gone on holiday.

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