Sarahs Sexploits - All the Colours of the Rainbow

T Red K

Description

Sarah helps Emil to celebrate Bastille Day as only she can as their relationship intensifies - and not just on the sexual front! But as far as sex goes, their lust for each other is as strong as ever as they start to get to know each other more intimately and Sarah begins to open up about her past. A razor, some minty lube and Sarah's sense of fun and sexual mischief drives the usually cool Emil insane and he reveals his wild and animal side. But, as Sarah lets herself start to enjoy her new found happiness, her already waning involvement with married colleague Scott comes to a bitter and angry end and she finds herself taking drastic action.

Sujets

• Erotic literature

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 03 juillet 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781782342038
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Title Page
SARAH’S SEXPLOITS: ALL THE COLOURS OF THE RAINBOW
Sarah’s Relationship With Sexy Frenchman Emil Goes From Strength To Strength As Her Involvement With Scott Comes To A Bitter End.

By
K T Red



Publisher Information
Sarah’s Sexploits: All the Colours of the Rainbow
Published in 2012 by Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright © K T Red 2012
The right of K T Red to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.



Preface
Just when I think I know what - or rather who - I want, life throws me a curveball! It’s like I said before; having one man in your life who turns you inside out, upside down and back to front is such a blessing. Me - I’ve got two.
One knows about the other but the other doesn’t know about the other one - if you follow me. And what makes it even more complicated is that we all work at the same place! And one’s my boss and he’s also the other one’s boss as well. It makes my head spin.
Emil - my very handsome boss - has just taken me to London for the weekend. Apart from a little bit of unpleasantness with an old business rival of his, it was just the most incredible time. It was the first time we slept together, even though we didn’t actually get much sleep. He is perhaps the most unselfish and generous lover I’ve ever had but I would prefer him not to count how many orgasms he gives me! I have to admit I lost count but let me tell you something, it beats the hell out of counting sheep!
But it isn’t just the sex with Emil. Don’t get me wrong, the sex is blissful but it’s a lot more than that. Even when he joins in with my bad girl games, he makes me feel like no other man ever has. He makes me feel like I’m someone special. He makes me feel like I matter to him - not just as someone he’s having sex with. He makes me feel like a lady. He calls me Peach and he’s even introduced me to his parents!
Scott - the other one - has been a bit elusive over the past few weeks since our afternoon together. I must admit I’m a bit relieved. He’s an absolute animal between the sheets but any time we get together is stolen time, stolen from his wife and children. Despite the passion I feel when we’re together, I know we have a limited shelf life and that the right thing to do - for both of us - would be to finish it sooner rather than later.
I was going to end it last time but once he got his cock in me, I couldn’t. It’s just that he makes me feel like I haven’t done for a long time and the last person who triggered all-consuming passion like that also did me a lot of harm. It took me a long time to put my life back together when He was no longer part of it. And I’ve no intention of putting myself through that again. But he’s a fucking good lay!
Emil knows about Scott but Scott doesn’t know about Emil. I don’t compare them because I wouldn’t know where to start. It would be like trying to compare a T-bone steak with the best French cuisine. You just can’t because there is no comparison.
Where do I go from here though? I can’t have them both. It’s too much even for me to cope with - and I can shag for Britain! Emil is becoming more important to me with every passing day in spite of our different backgrounds. But does that really matter - the class thing? Scott isn’t free to be mine and I won’t lure a man away from his children. So I guess I’ve answered my own question.
Oh God - life would be so much easier if I was frigid.
But it would be much less fun!



Chapter One
I’m so very proud to be Welsh. I love my country and all the crazy people in it. Every St David’s Day, I get a rush of patriotic emotions along with a surge of horny homes. However, today is the fourteenth day of July. It’s Bastille Day. So I thought that my (my?) handsome and Gallic Emil might feel like a special treat.
I know what time his miserable old dragon of a secretary goes for her lunch. You could set your clock by her. Out of the door by one and back at two. Every single day. I’ve often wondered where she goes. Perhaps she dashes home for a quickie. Dear God in heaven, what a thought!
I snuck into his office first thing and left him a little clue. I can’t believe he hasn’t changed his security code after I finagled it for very immoral purposes. I wonder if she suspects anything? Personal secretaries to tend to be privy to an awful lot of personal information about their bosses. I wonder if he’s ever...with her.........no, no! Stop thinking such disgusting thoughts!
There she goes. Across the car park and away. Now’s my chance. Knocking on his door, I slide myself in when he gives me the all clear. Every time I see him, he takes my breath away. Such a handsome man. I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure that I’m not dreaming when I realise that he genuinely does want to be with me.
He’s smiling, those gorgeous blue eyes twinkling at me. “What are you doing here, Peach?” He’s called me that ever since London. I left a strategically placed peach on his desk with a Post-it and a smiley face.
“I thought I’d just pop in and see you.” I lock the door.
He picks up the peach and smiles, raising his eyebrows. “And what are you hiding behind your back?”
I do his Gallic shrug. “Just this.” I quickly put the beret on my head and dramatically adjust it to a jaunty angle. “Happy Bastille Day, Emil.” I la-la my way through the French national anthem as I skip my way around his office in a brand new wrap-around dress in my favourite red and high heels as he sits at his desk, smiling broadly.
I wiggle my way over to him and sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a big kiss. “Thank you, my peach.” One arm is around my waist, the other one stroking my legs.
Placing the beret on his head, I whisper in his ear. “Voulez-vous coucher avec mois, Monsieur Emil?” I fidget on his lap and feel his body answer for him. I raise my hand to cover my mouth, gasping and putting on a ridiculous French accent. “Oh, Monsieur. You grow so big and hard for your little Sarah!”
“Oh, my darling girl. As far as you are concerned, I will always be big and hard!” He smiles, putting the beret back on my head and kissing me. “And yes, I would very much like to coucher avec tu.”
Grabbing hold of his tie and wiggling it at him, I lick my lips. “Are you doing anything this evening, Monsieur Emil?”
Emil eases the top of my dress apart, exposing my breasts encased in peach silk. I run my fingers through his hair as his lips brush my flesh - soft, tender kisses that make me tingle all over. “Oh yes, my beautiful peach. I think I will be very busy this evening. And all night. And also at the break of dawn if I have any energy left.” I gasp as he slips his hands inside my bra and cups my breasts. “And if you weren’t supposed to be finishing the quarterly accounts, I would happily spend the rest of the afternoon inside you!”
I shiver in lust as the combination of his mouth on my skin, his hands caressing me and his promise of passion to come get me hot. I let out a deep groan of want as he cranks up the heat, his mouth on my breasts, licking and sucking. God, he’s so good with his mouth! As I feel his tongue swirling over me, I take a deep breath, wishing it was between my legs.
“Hold that thought, Peach.” I can feel him smiling, his face buried in my cleavage.
“How the hell do you always know what I’m thinking?” I rest my hand on his bulge, stroking him, making him groan into my flesh.
“I have two clues, my love.”
I stroke some more, he moans some more. “And what would they be?” Jesus, I’m getting rather warm.
“Clue one - the heat of your sex is burning my lap.” I throw my head back, laughing loudly and dislodging the beret. Emil raises his head and kisses me passionately. “And clue two - I am thinking it also!”
“Emil!” I squeal as he scoops me off his lap and puts me on his desk. He massages my breasts as I recline slightly, parting my legs and wrapping them around his waist. The skirt of my dress falls aside and I’m aching for him to tear my knickers off and plunge inside me.
“Well, my pretty peach. That makes a pleasant change!” Emil smirks as his fingers brush my knickers - which are more than a little damp.
“What does?”
“You’re wearing panties!” He kisses me before I can object. “Peach silk. Nice.” Another kiss and another quick touch. “Such a juicy peach you are.”
I sigh and groan. “It’s you that always makes me so juicy!” Pulling him closer to me with my legs, I lie back on his desk. “How about a quickie?” I bite my bottom lip and jiggle my eyebrows.
Emil tuts and slaps my thigh, smiling. “Shame on you, child! I do not do quickies - as you well know.”
I smile back, knowing he’s talking about our wonderful night in London. I’ve had many lovers, more than I can remember, many of them nameless. None of them have made love to me the way Emil did. I’ve had a lot of sex but I truly believe that our weekend in that hotel room was the first time that I’ve ever made love, that any man had made love to me rather than just fucked me.
I reach down, trying to get my hands on his trousers -only to have Emil slap my hand away, tutting again. “I can see that I am going to have to do something to take the edge of