Her Brilliant Career

Francesca wiped the smeared makeup from her face, poured herself another double brandy from the mini-bar, collapsed back onto the crisp white sheets of the hotel bed, still in her burgundy silk lingerie, and started to cry again. Just twenty-four hours ago she had had everything: a lovely home, a wonderful husband and the beginnings of a glittering career with a multinational company, but now she had none of these things.

Francesca was the rising star in the company, fresh from university. With her long, dark hair and ice-blue eyes she turned heads everywhere she went. Twenty-six years old, she was pretty, outgoing and bubbly, as well as smart - or maybe not as smart as she thought. She had quickly captured the attention of her new boss Martin, the Sales Director who, although supposedly in a steady relationship, could still not resist a pretty face and a willing smile. Martin was not especially good-looking, but he was confident, driven and influential; and he decided who got on in the sales force and who didn't. Seeing her as a new toy to play with, Martin took Francesca under his wing while she, anxious to launch her career, set out to impress him every way she could.

She sat at her desk well into the evening, doing research, making new contacts, bringing in new sales. ACL was based in London, but its major clients were in the USA. Francesca had explained to Luke, her husband of the last two years, that she must put in the hours with this new employer, at least until she established a reputation. Many were the times when she had to text Luke to say she would be home late, and would he fix dinner? Then it would be so late that she would have to take a taxi the short ride home to their apartment in Beckton, and she would kiss Luke peremptorily, kick off her shoes and fall asleep on the pale leather sofa, barely noticing what programme was on their plasma screen TV.

Luke felt that Francesca no longer noticed him either. At the outset he felt that he had won the jackpot when she chose him over all the other guys in the investment bank where they met, and for which he still worked. Ever the joker, Luke just wanted to entertain and please, and even after all this time he still went to great lengths to please his Francesca.

He knew how important her career was to her, and he wished to be supportive, but he was missing those exciting days and nights they had had in the beginning, where they would fly to Paris just to buy her some expensive lingerie, and that night in their luxury hotel suite she would model it for him, while they ordered champagne from room service. Sometimes she would wear a particularly sober outfit over it, and she would enjoy gradually removing her clothes for him, giving him glimpses of her exotic underwear, and finally of her delicious body.

Luke loved these trips away, as the same drive which fuelled her dynamism at work also made her exciting and insatiable in the bedroom. She often wanted to be satisfied several times over, as they spent perhaps a couple of hours in their foreplay, perhaps satisfying each other orally, before their ultimate union, which would always be sensual, lingering and then finally exciting. Now he felt that she was putting all her energy into her work, and he felt like some kind of house-husband.

That week ACL had received a delegation from a large pharmaceuticals company with a base in Minneapolis, which was looking for a partner in the UK along with whom it could increase its European market share. For perhaps three months Francesca's boss, Martin, had been nursing this account, and he had put together a small dedicated team including Francesca and two male colleagues, who between them had built up a campaign which had culminated in this week's sales pitch presentations at the new, prestigious Excel exhibition and conference centre in the Docklands. Even though the location was within minutes of Francesca's home, Martin thought it important that constant contact be maintained between the ACL team and that of Pharmco during this crucial week, therefore all personnel including Francesca had been booked into the highest class hotel on the complex throughout the week.

Martin had enjoyed working with Francesca for these past few months. He saw her as a bright young thing, full of all the latest ideas, and he admired her body as much as her lively mind. He had seduced a succession of young female graduate trainees, giving them projects to manage, working closely with them and then moving in on them. He knew that he could only attract women this way, as he seemed quite inept at just walking up to women in bars or nightclubs and chatting to them. He was too busy to take up a hobby such as squash or salsa, where he would naturally meet with women. Martin needed to feel superior to a woman, get her to admire him or feel grateful to him for his help, and then he could collect. This was how he had met Natasha, his present girlfriend, but after only two months he was beginning to tire of her, as she was no longer new and exciting. Sometimes Martin would only sleep with a woman once, just wanting to possess and humiliate her, and unsatisfied, would move on to the next.

But with this latest one he knew that he had competition; she was not going to be an easy conquest. It was not so much the adoring husband, whom he had seen at a couple of social events, and with whom Francesca was unaccountably besotted. The main obstacle to him getting her where he wanted her was her driven dedication to her work. But Martin relished the challenge. One woman in the past had staged stunts such as bringing reports and figures into his office, leaning against the edge of his desk, her short skirt revealing a dangerous amount of stockinged thigh, bending to take papers from her briefcase, emphasising her rounded bottom, or leaning down to point out information on a sheet, revealing full breasts tumbling from a skimpy bra.

He found these diversions quite entertaining, and his latest fantasy, which tormented him even when he was making love with Natasha, was to conquer the beautiful ice maiden Francesca. So far she had not responded to any of his advances, although a few times he stood close behind her at her desk, brushing his body against hers, letting her feel his erection. Sometimes also he rested a hand on her shoulder, surreptitiously letting it stray towards her neck or chin before removing it.

Martin was determined that he was going to have a taste of Francesca pretty soon. On the first night of the visit by the Pharmco executives, Martin hosted a lavish dinner at the hotel. He deliberately seated Francesca next to himself, but did not bargain for a young, flashy tech guy from Pharmco called Will, who was also tall, blond and very personable, and who monopolised Francesca almost the entire evening, paying her compliments, and marvelling at her accent and generally making a play for her. Francesca for her part did not look particularly happy with the attentions of Will, and Martin smiled to himself when she informed Will that no, she would not come up to his room, as she and Martin were an item, and he wouldn't like it.

During the second day of the presentations Francesca was the perfect saleswoman, solicitously looking after the needs of the visitors, as she had arranged a sightseeing tour of London for them, to which at the last minute she decided to go along. By this time, Martin was just beginning to wonder whether Francesca was deliberately burying herself in her work in order to avoid him. He had been convinced that she would be an easy conquest as she wanted promotion so much. He was also beginning to convince himself that she actually had the hots for him personally too, and could not understand why Francesca had not jumped at the chance of working closely with him by night as well as by day.

By the third evening, Francesca felt she was running out of excuses. She was aware of Martin's desire for her as surely as if it were an electrical charge in the air. Actually she realised that she did not desire him physically at all; she wished to make a success of the Pharmco campaign, and has long since realised that being in Martin's good books was the best place to be. Once she had gained Martin's approval, once this campaign was in the bag, it would be onward and upward in her career as she took charge of ever more important projects. Looking further into the future, she could see that after a couple of years with ACL her name would be known throughout the London network and beyond, and she could make a strategic move into another company and thereby gain further promotion and reward.

Francesca realised that she must consider where her priorities lay. Yes, she was mightily keen on advancing her career and being financially successful, but it was also very important to her that she was Luke's wife, she loved him and never wanted to be parted from him. In the middle of reading a report, Francesca began to daydream about how wonderful Luke was, how handsome and gorgeous, how funny, clever and sexy he was. She fantasised about taking a taxi home right now, having a long, lingering session in the hot tub, putting on her most outrageous sexy lingerie and having a bottle of champagne on ice ready for when Luke came home from the bank. He would not be able to resist her, and there would probably follow a wonderfully wild love-making session in their favourite place, on the fur rug in the living-room, where she would get him out of his business clothes and pull him down on top of her...

She awoke from her reverie to find that Martin had come quietly into the office, and was standing watching her intently. He strolled round her desk and stopped behind her, standing too close so that his thigh was against the back of Francesca's right arm. He placed one hand on her shoulder, squeezed it gently and asked her whether she was looking forward to dinner that night. On the pretext of looking for more figures, Francesca reached over the desk, thereby being able to move away from Martin, however he leaned right over her and picked up the desired paper, keeping one arm round her shoulders, his hand lingering over hers for a moment too long as she took the paper. Francesca thanked all her lucky stars when her mobile rang with a special ring tone from Luke. Excusing herself and telling Martin it was urgent, she took the call. She deliberately made it sound like some kind of emergency, but in reality Luke was telling her that he was going out to dinner with work colleagues that night, and so would not be in when she called last thing.

They were now four days into the working week at the hotel, and it was time for dinner. During the afternoon Martin had been excited when Francesca had given a superb keynote speech on behalf of the team about the particular facilities management package which ACL had put together for Pharmco. He had advised her to wear something revealing, therefore she chose a black skirt with a deep slit, so that the clients would see her legs as she walked off stage or turned to emphasise a point in the presentation. And not only Martin would notice how her white silk blouse clung to her breasts every time she took a deep breath prior to speaking.

Francesca's speech had gone well, and the whole team knew that her presentation had been pivotal in sending the outcome of the campaign ACL's way. Mr Franklin J. Oppenheimer, the President of Pharmco, had told Martin over pre-dinner drinks that he was now feeling very inclined to offer the facilities contract. He also commented that Martin should appreciate Francesca, and look after her, otherwise he might find that she had been poached by Pharmco! Martin laughed politely, but inwardly bristled at the idea of someone stealing the object of his desire.

Back at the desk in ACL's hotel suite, running through a few figures prior to coming down to dinner, Martin reflected on how the day had gone. Having been in Francesca's close proximity for four days now, knowing that each night she was only through the wall from him, Martin was starting to get frustrated. He knew that the contract was in the bag now, so it was now time to enjoy himself. Tonight would be the night when he made his move on Francesca. He knew how hungry she was for career advancement, so he couldn't fail. The figures forgotten, Martin launched into a reverie of how he would seduce Francesca...

He would get her to come into his temporary office to brief him on some report or other, and he would suggest that they sat on the edge of the couch and spread out the papers on the coffee table before them. She would be wearing stockings and suspenders but no panties. She would start to tell him the facts and figures, but would reach up from the papers, and start stroking his thighs through the fine material of his suit. She would then remove his silk tie, letting it brush the side of his face. As she stooped to unfasten his shirt buttons, he could enjoy the delicate aroma of her expensive perfume, as well as the view down the low neck of her blouse. As he glimpsed her small breasts, with pointed nipples showing through the thin white lace, he would experience the delicious feeling of heat through his loins as his penis started to become very aroused and erect.

In his fantasy, Francesca would pull apart his shirt, to reveal his hairy chest and stomach. He was not as fit as he could be, due to lack of time to go to the gym, but nevertheless desirable. He would then start to stroke her naked thighs under her skirt, and feel her arousal. She would start to gasp with pleasure as he ran his fingertips gently around her soft, silky flesh. She would not be able to resist undoing his belt, unfastening the button of his fly, and gently easing down the zip as she slowly pulled apart his trousers. Under the trousers he would be wearing the finest silky briefs, and his erect penis would be straining for release, the juices of his arousal plain to see already. She would give a little cry of pleasure as she saw the size of his erection and his hot state of arousal. He would move to help her pull his trousers down a little as she bent to give some attention to his swollen, imprisoned member. He would want her to lick and gently nibble at his hardness through the briefs, before slowly drawing them down so that he could then feel her cool tongue on his hot flesh. At this stage he would not yet be ready to have her, as he wanted to look at her first, and admire her intimate naked beauty.

He would then want to make her stand up straight before him as he ran his hands up under the back of her skirt, enjoying the feel of her silky stockings encasing her soft thighs. He would finger the lace tops of the stockings, pulling gently at the suspenders and moving on to her bare flesh. He would enjoy reaching around her and running his fingertips gently around the curves of her buttocks, feeling her skin go gooseflesh at the contact, and he would not be able to resist exploring the cleft, moving his fingers forward to dip into her honeypot, and then spread the sweet moisture backwards around her private place, where he liked to play. He mentioned her cries and groans of pleasure as his fingertip rubbed around and inside her orifice.

He would not like to take her too far at this point, as there were other places to explore. From her buttocks he would move his fingertips around her hips and begin to trace the contours of first the rounded pad of her belly, and then the line of her groin. At this stage, he would still be relying on the sense of touch, enjoying the textures of silk, soft hair and smooth flesh, but at some point he would gently unfasten her skirt and allow it to fall to the floor, revealing her lacy lingerie which outlined her womanly contours.

At this point, enjoying feeling the hot blood course through his groin to feed his aching hardness, he would have her stand back once more, so that he could take in the vision of the beautiful nakedness of her private parts. He would admire the luminosity of her smooth skin, and the delicate chiselling of the hollows in hips and groin. He would note the contrast between the shadow of her pubic hair and her lighter surrounding flesh. He would wish her to be beautiful and natural in this area, as he enjoyed not just its visual beauty, but also its wonderfully soft feel and its natural aroma and taste. She would smile as she revealed her most private beauty to him, as if it were the first time that a man had ever seen it.

Still he would not yet be ready to touch and savour these delights, as there were more visual wonders to discover. Starting with the lowest he would unfasten one by one the buttons of her white silk blouse, beginning to reveal gradually the swell of her breasts, encased in her white lacy balconette bra. He would draw her close to him, so that not only could he see the outlines of her nipples through the lace, but would also be able to pinch their tips between two fingers, pulling on them slightly to make them erect. He would want to draw her closer still, so that he could take each nipple into his mouth, and suck it gently through the delicate material, feeling the roughness of the lace over his tongue, and imagining the pink softness of her bare nipple beneath. While he was doing this, he would hear her beginning to moan with pleasure, murmuring his name, asking him to pleasure her, asking him to have her and satisfy her, to take her to places where she had never been before. He would want her to submit him and to beg for satisfaction which he had the power to provide.

He would then turn his attention back to her intimate parts, reaching out to run a finger down the line of her groin, and to touch her gossamer softness with his fingertips. He would gently stroke her, both in the direction of her fur and against it, while she shivered and moaned with pleasure. His fingers would then trace her contours beneath the fur; firstly her cleft, framed on either side by her delicate pink folds of skin, which by now would be glistening with the juices from her honeypot as she was becoming so aroused. With one fingertip he would explore gently between her labia, half hidden from view beneath the curls, rubbing the sensitive skin surfaces within, and collecting lubricant so that he could run his finger upwards, so that he could finally find the epicentre of her sexual pleasure. He could just imagine her cries of delight as he ran a moist finger up to, and around, the pink bud of her clitoris, feeling its erectness and at the same time its plump wetness as he stroked it upwards into a frenzy of arousal, causing her to move her groin to and fro as she rubbed her sensitive surfaces against his fingers, her juices lubricating freely. He would move his fingers up inside her, and she would ride him in this way until her first climax came. She would be screaming and crying his name as she bore down hard on his fingers, her body rigid, her head raised and her eyes closed in ecstasy as her hot, sweet juices gushed from her. After a few spasms she would become still, and he would have her kneel before him, her head in his lap, to recover for a few moments.

Then he would want some attention from her. With her still kneeling on the floor, he would want her to part his legs slightly and stroke his bare thighs, then start to run her tongue around his sac, first tickling the hair, then stimulating the taut, sensitive pink skin. From there he would want her to run the flat of her tongue the entire length of his penis, from its base, slowly, firmly and wetly, along the shaft to the most sensitive part, where she could linger for a while and send him crazy, rubbing the centre of her tongue along its length. Finally she would reach her destination, and her cool, luscious lips would close around the head of his penis, and he would push her head down on him as she swallowed him whole. She would move up and down gently, and send him to heaven, as her long, silky hair covered his thighs and he could feel her hot breath through the mat of dark, curly hair around his groin. As she moved, he would feel her breasts, still encased by the fabric of her bra, rubbing against the insides of his thighs. Her fingers would still be exploring his sac, stroking his fur and squeezing the taut, shiny pink skin which had so recently known the pleasure of her warm, skilful tongue.