Appleby Blush Ch 10

Chapter 10: The Aftermath

The invitation had come as a surprise. Sandra Wilson had almost refused, but that would have been unwise, she decided. After Saturday's Gala party, she needed to understand why Donald Appleby wanted to see her. It was unlikely the businessman knew her true identity, so that pointed to her modelling audition, or an outside chance that Marcia had told him about their encounter in the restrooms. Or both.

Did that mean he'd try to threaten or coerce her in some way?

That would be ironic. On the day she was to see Sir Peter Richardson and hand in her resignation, she might actually be about to stumble across the sort of evidence she'd been searching for during their undercover investigation. If she really did secure proof that Appleby was blackmailing women for immoral purposes, she'd hand that to Richardson as her final act before leaving the Met. Then it would be someone else's problem.

Her disappointment at Kirsten's resignation had faded. It shouldn't have come as a shock—the brunette had occasionally dropped hints of her dissatisfaction. In fact, morale was so low right now it was unlikely she would be the last cop to turn their back on the Met.

Even Alex was close to taking his retirement options. Good old Alex. He'd been a rock for her over the last couple of days. She hadn't been able to explain to him what had happened at the mansion, of course—he wouldn't understand. But they had made love every spare moment ever since he'd rescued her from the party.

Despite the turmoil invading her life as a cop, her sexual libido wasn't harmed in any way. She'd never felt so continually aroused.

If she hadn't resumed her sexual relationship with Goodwin, she would have done something out of character. Like letting Tony Daly fuck her, perhaps, or succumbing to one of the married officers who were always sniffing around her at the Met.

The timing had been ideal and she took confidence from the fact they'd agreed to keep the emotional side out of things and just see where it led. And treat the sex as a bonus...

When she'd completed both meetings, she'd take Goodwin back to her flat and fuck him silly. She'd take him to bed or, better still, maybe let him take her on the kitchen table? That was probably the only location they hadn't used yet...

"It's so good to meet you, Sandra." Donald Appleby's voice was warm and welcoming.

Staring out of the large floor to ceiling window, sipping the drink his secretary had given her, she hadn't even realised the businessman had entered the room. The drink had warmed her insides as it slid down her throat and her thoughts had inevitably turned to sex again.

She swung around, her body framed in the window against the London skyline behind her as if she were positioned for a photo shoot. The bespectacled Appleby looked much younger than his fifty years and the way his silvery grey hair was pulled back behind his head into a ponytail gave him a youthful, rebellious look. Even under the expensive looking pin striped business suit his muscular build was clear.

As his gaze took its time sweeping across her figure, she felt her body began to tingle, followed by the unmistakeable feeling of her sex beginning to moisten. Good God, calm down... she told herself. Remember where you are!

Her handshake was firm. "Hello, Mr. Appleby. How can I help you?"

***

Marcia growled out another orgasm. Alice didn't even need any Blush. The sexy young blonde had developed an insatiable need for the redhead's curvy body. That craving would pave the way to bring other female cops into the Appleby web. Using Alice to identify key personnel and then help seduce them was a fundamental part of the plan.

She reached up, pulling Alice into an open mouthed kiss. The young cop's cock shifted with the movement and she gasped aloud. Alice had never even seen a strap on until a few days ago and yet was using one with all the experience of a veteran.

Like a duck in the water, she was a natural.

"You like that?" she teased, picking up on the signs and sweeping her tongue along the soft skin of Marcia's freckled neck.

"You little bitch," the redhead responded, snaking a hand into Alice's hair and dragging her into another kiss.

When Alice slowed the pace, easing the large cock out of her until only the tip was buried in her wetness, she gave a throaty growl. It deepened into a guttural cry when the blonde thrust it back inside her again.

Marcia twisted her head to the side, catching their reflections. The mirrors along the wall were impeccably positioned so that every conceivable angle was covered and reflected back. The sight of Alice's near perfect buttocks flexing and gyrating with each forward push rushed the redhead towards another orgasm.

"Oh, God!" Marcia's voice became strained. She wrapped her long legs around Alice's back, pulling her deeper and deeper with each thrust. It was hard to think. Only the slapping of their flesh and the sound of their heavy breathing registered.

"Now you know what I want for my birthday," Alice murmured, increasing the pace. "My own strap on."

Marcia tried to growl out a laugh but it emerged as a grunt. "It's yours," she gasped, blinking her eyes as the orgasm closed in. "Mm... fuck... a little harder." She shifted her curvy body beneath her grinding lover, watching those pale, pumping buttocks reflecting back at her from the angle of the mirrors. "Fuck me harder."

"Like this?" Alice panted, sitting up straight. She reached her hands down to cup Marcia's bouncing breasts and changed to short, fast, stabs of delicious torture. "You want me to fuck you like this?"

"Oh, yes... Oh, God, baby..." Marcia tightened her legs around her lover, the pressure from the backs of her heels pulling Alice even deeper inside. "Yesss... I'm so close!"

"Cum for me..."

"Shit... Oh yes," Marcia mewed. It wasn't just Alice's words—it was the sheer wanton look in her young eyes. The sweet little bitch had never been with a woman a week ago and she was rapidly becoming an expert. Reaching up, Marcia cupped the small breasts, both of the women's hands on the others tits now. The muscles in her neck tightened as she half raised herself from the bed and, with a growl, began humping her hips upwards..

Alice leant down for another kiss and as soon as their lips locked, she began to pump harder, in shorter, faster bursts. Marcia tried to moan but her young lover's tongue was circling the inside of her mouth. The faster she pumped, the harder she tried.

Her hands left Alice's breasts, reaching out sideways. Her fingers curled as they gripped at the silken bedsheets in sheer desperation. The orgasm was going to be even fiercer than all the others.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck..."

***

Donald Appleby feasted his eyes on Sandra Wilson's firm buttocks. The taut round globes were clearly defined against the tight skirt of her business suit as she walked to the seat he indicated opposite his desk. At most, she wore a thong, he imagined. He'd soon find out.

The remnants of the Blush from the party would still be circulating around her system, reinforced by the further dose Angela had unwittingly provided fifteen minutes ago. Her nipples so temptingly in evidence against the material of her thin cream blouse confirmed her arousal. So did the way her breasts heaved in time with her breathing.

The businessman took the empty glass from her without a word. Walking to the drinks cabinet, he poured himself a whisky and then refilled her drink from the water jug with his back her. That made it easier to drop a single splash from the small phial into the glass.

Another dose of Blush was overkill, he knew. But he wanted her begging for it.

The overheating cop crossed her legs as he turned back to her. The movement was slow, almost deliberate, as if she was already flirting with him. Perfect. He'd drop the bombshell first, and then build up from there.

"It's a soft drink," he nonchalantly told her, handing her the refilled glass. "I'm aware you can't drink on duty."

His words had the desired effect. Even someone as experienced as the Vice Head couldn't disguise the instant look of shock that flickered across her face.

"Oh yes," he murmured, walking around to his chair with that steely gait. The one that said he was in control. "I know who you are. So to answer your question, Sandra—I can call you Sandra, can't I? Please call me Donald—to answer your question, it's not what you can do for me. It's what I can do to help you."

He smiled at the baffled expression on her face. She was trying to work it out, search her brain for clues, but there weren't any. And even had there been, her befuddled mind would be too busy attempting to cope with her raging libido, to be able to work it out. If anything, her nipples were even more prominent than before. She was feeling it, all right. He let her see his gaze rest on them for a few moments and then watched the growing pink colour fill her cheeks. When she took a long drink, his grin widened.

For a while, the silence hovered in the air between them, like a raincloud. Hers was dark and stormy looking. His had a rainbow at the end of it.

"How do you know?" she eventually asked.

Appleby tutted. Was that the best she could come up with? Still, as it wouldn't take her long to wonder if he knew of Kirsten and Alice, he'd better take her off the scent. "You were recognised at my Gala party, Sandra. It was a shock, believe me. I wasn't aware we'd invited such an esteemed member of the London Met. Not only that, I believe you attended an open evening, masquerading as a potential model, if I'm not mistaken."

Her body shifted on the chair and she crossed her slender legs again. He knew why—the Blush was even more effective in stressful situations. Her mind was attempting to deal with his revelation, while controlling the burning inside her body. It wasn't possible.

"I can help you, Sandra," he repeated, easing to his feet. Her gaze stayed on his movements as he removed his suit jacket and carefully placed it over the back of his chair. He smiled back at her as he casually removed a piece of fluff from the shoulder. When he unknotted and pulled off his red silk tie, her eyes widened.

"Help me in what way?" she eventually said. Her voice was so low he could hardly hear her.

Appleby gave a reassuringly soft smile. "Let me correct myself," he slowly said, picking up his whisky and walking around the desk. He took a long sip and licked his lips. Wilson took a longer drink from her glass. "I rather thought we could help one another. Let's say... an alliance..."

"An alliance?" Now he really did have her puzzled.

"I'll put my cards fairly and squarely on the table," he told her, stopping a couple of feet away. He raised his glass and pointed a finger over the rim. "Your little charade suggests you've been checking me out, Sandra. I have no idea why, but naturally you've found nothing of value. There's nothing to find, you see. I'm a legitimate businessman."

He paused, observing her reaction. She was trying to concentrate but inevitably finding it difficult. He unbuttoned his top shirt button, and then a second. "Warm in here, isn't it?" he suggested, implanting the thought. Wilson's hand went to the collar of her blouse and she quickly threw back the rest of her drink. There'd be no holding back now.

"At first, I was angry," he continued, putting the glass on the edge of the desk beside her. "But anger can be such an unproductive emotion, don't you think?"

He placed both hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs into the skin through the material. Wilson twisted in the chair, as if trying to shrug his hands away. That was impressive, he conceded. Her body shouldn't have been able to resist any sort of touch.

"Tsk, tsk." His thumbs resumed their caress. "Hear me out, Sandra. The way I see it is that you have contacts who provide you with information. There may be times when I can provide that service.

"How?" Her breathing was much heavier.

"I have ways," he smiled, easing his strong fingers around the front of her trembling body, flicking open the top button of her blouse. Her chest heaved at the contact and her head fell back slightly so that it rested against his stomach. "It's amazing how much a man in my position gets to hear." His voice was low and persuasive. "For example, I've already fed some information to your Commissioner..."

"Sir Peter?" Her voice was hoarse.

"The very same," he whispered, leaning closer. His fingers flicked open the next button. He could feel himself growing hard.

"Please, stop," she said, her voice a strained whisper. Her right hand lifted onto his.

"You don't want me to stop, Sandra," he quietly told her. "You want me to tell you what I told Sir Peter, don't you?" Her hand stayed on his, but made no move to stop him as he flicked a third button open. "You'll find there'll be no need for you to leave the Met."

"No need? What do you know? I don't understand." Her voice was an uncontrolled whimper. "I can't think straight."

"There's no need to think," Appleby whispered, quickly unfastening the remaining buttons and pulling the blouse apart. The bra was front fastening and he deftly unhooked the clip as he continued. "You just need to know I'm on your side, helping you. Trust me, Sandra."

His hands cupped each naked breast. When he flicked her aching nipples, the panting cop let out a long sigh. Her head pushed back into his groin. She was his, now...

"I know what you need, Sandra," he whispered, quickly unzipping himself with one hand. It took only a few seconds to drag his erect cock from his boxers. He gripped her hair, holding her head in position as he rubbed the thick shaft against her cheek. "This is what you want, Sandra," he persuasively murmured, pushing the throbbing member towards her lips. "Why don't you show me just how much?"

***

Marcia could feel Alice's hard nipples press into her back as they luxuriated in the hot tub together. It was a time to relax after their extensive sex. And an opportunity to take their relationship to the next stage—Carmella's instructions had been quite specific.

"So," she murmured, resting her head back into the curve between Alice's neck and shoulder. She pulled the blonde's hands onto her breasts and held hers over them. Her nipples instantly reacted to the warm palms. "Tell me, miss policewoman, what cases are you working on right now?"

Alice's hands tensed, long enough for Marcia to realise she'd struck a nerve. Of course she had. It wasn't that her young lover would be worried about the Appleby investigation—she'd have figured there was no way Marcia could find out about that. Her dilemma would be more fundamental—Alice's cop's instincts would instantly rebel at the very thought of sharing information on confidential police cases with anyone. Even her...

"Nothing much," she nervously replied, taking a nipple between each forefinger and thumb.

Marcia purred her delight. The attempt to distract was obvious, but still sent a lick of heat through her warm body. She turned her face towards her young lover, sexily pursing her lips for a kiss. It was long and sensuous, and sent out a promise of even more to come—despite their morning's lovemaking—if Alice played ball.

"You mean we're going to have secrets from one another?" she asked, eventually pulling away and settling back against Alice's body again. The water sloshed around them like ripples on a pond. "That's no fun. Ask me anything, and I'll tell you. You know that. What are you worried about? I have links to the Mafia?

Alice laughed with her. But she clearly remained nervous. "Really, I can't..."

Marcia turned her head again, but this time it was that deliciously perky breast her lips sought. They closed on a nipple, sucking it deep inside her mouth. When her teeth circled it, Alice let out a growl. "Okay, okay. But if you ever tell anyone, I have to kill you."

"It's a deal," Marcia slurped, releasing the hard bud from her mouth. She trailed her fingers under the water along Alice's legs either side of her. "Providing you use your body as the weapon. That's second only to death by chocolate as my favourite way to go."

The blonde gave a mock gasp of disbelief. "You prefer chocolate to my body?"

Marcia laughed out loud. "Okay, your body is way top of the list, babes. But chocolate is number two. So, come on, I want to hear all about the cases that is Vice working on. All the juicy details, please..."

***

Donald Appleby moaned aloud as Sandra Wilson's near perfect mouth continued to work on his cock. She was good, very good. The Blush had taken full effect and the sexy bitch couldn't get enough, saliva dripping from her lips as she took him as far inside her mouth as she could. One hand dug into his ass, whilst the other dropped to caress his balls.

He moaned again and tightened his hand in her dark hair. He'd pulled it free from its clasp and a few strands kept falling across her face with every sultry bob of her head. At first, she'd brushed them away. Now, she didn't bother.

If he wasn't mistaken, she had one hand under her skirt, rubbing herself while she pleasured him. He'd check the recording later.

His fingers dug into her scalp as she took even more of his thick cock down her throat. She was growling continuously as she worked on him, the saliva dripping from her lips and running down her chin. She wiped it away with one hand and rubbed it into his hard shaft, before pumping him with her mouth again.

Appleby groaned and dragged her head upwards so that he could gain some temporary relief. But as her sexy gaze stared into his, it was more and more difficult to hold back. He slowly began to buck his hips. "I'm going to cum in your mouth," he brazenly grunted, knowing the words would inflame her. "Would you like that, Sandra?"

Her response was to scrape her teeth along his hardness. She whimpered. One hand left his ass to corkscrew around his shaft as she sucked him harder, deeper.

"Oh yes, like that," he groaned. He could feel his orgasm begin to build. "You like that thought, Sandra? You're thirsty?"

Her upward looking eyes stared up at him. They gave her answer. She sucked harder, twisting her head from side to side as her mouth sought out its reward.

Appleby cupped his hands around the back of her head as his hips bucked harder, fucking her mouth. She stayed with him, fondling his balls with her hand as she accepted each thrust. For a moment, he paused, trying to contain the rush. Sandra Wilson had other ideas. A final suck between her lips, squeeze of his testicles, and he was there.

"Oh fuck..."

The brunette growled her approval as he fired the first blast against the back of her throat. He was right, she was thirsty. She hungrily accepted the offering as he fired again, then again, filling her mouth with his thick tribute. The sexy bitch took it all, swallowing greedily and then coming back for more. She was sucking him dry.

It took a while for him to finish and Wilson licked around the head, cleaning him, making sure she had it all. Finished, she sat back and wiped a drop of cum from her mouth with the back of her hand. Her unwavering hazel coloured eyes were wild as she licked her lips.

They didn't leave his.

He nodded downwards towards his glistening manhood. The double dose of Viagra would keep him hard for as long as necessary. The sexual fire was even brighter in her aroused eyes as she stared at his hardness. It would stay that way for a long time after he'd finished with her but that didn't concern him. Only the present mattered.

"Don't worry, Sandra," he said, a huge smirk covering his face. "You didn't think we were through yet, did you? My cock doesn't think so. And you need it so badly, don't you my little slut? Why don't you stand up?"