Don't Tell the Others Read online

  Don't Tell The Others

  Our Kinky Secrets (Book 3)

  Evelyn White

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 – All rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About The Author

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  Prologue

  Nestled in the rolling Devonshire hills lies a gated community, Hillcroft Village, home to the Elite. Emily, a cosmetics expert and owner of a Franchise, takes time out to call on her neighbors with samples; face to face with Jacob, a man she’d lusted after from afar at Kit and Andrew’s Dinner Party, Emily must decide, flaunt her products, or herself. Jacob, answering the door to the object of his wet dream has no such quandary…

  Chapter One

  “Fuck!”

  Jacob sat bolt upright in bed, bathed in sweat, panting heavily and thoroughly disorientated, waking from another seriously hot dream.

  Looking down, he groaned, dismayed, the wetness couldn’t only be attributed to his perspiration but the softening erection that even at that moment, leaked onto his sheets.

  “Not again…”

  He groaned, peeled back the sodden bedclothes and stood, already feeling a chill as sweat evaporated and a small trickle of wetness oozed down his inner thigh.

  Thoroughly fed up, Jacob headed to the shower, it had been seven nights since seeing Emily at Kit and Andrew’s Dinner party, and seven mornings of waking up in a sticky mess.

  The hot redhead now featured strongly in his night-time fantasies, and during the day, Jacob found his mind repeatedly wandering to the curvaceous bombshell. Porn searches for women with similar attributes did nothing for him; he wanted the real thing; nobody else would suffice.

  Jacob was not looking forward to his next laundry bill.

  ***

  Emily moaned, staring at the bright red LED display of her digital clock; 05:59, sixty seconds later the alarm blared, and her hand slapped blindly at the small yet robust device; it would have to be with the abuse she gave it each morning.

  Resigned to getting up, Emily pushed herself to a sitting position and allowed the bedsheets to fall away from her naked body; pale freckled flesh, large generous dusky pink nipples, a rounded tummy and hips that flared deliciously; she’d been called fat, overweight, chubby, but all she saw was a voluptuous woman with a body built for sin.

  She sniffed, and her nose wrinkled at its bridge, nostrils flaring, Emily brought her right hand up to inspect it then, with horror, she realized.

  “Oh my god, I’ve been masturbating in my sleep again.”

  Emily knew the responsible culprit, Jacob; she’d learned his name at Kit and Andrew’s Dinner party a week ago; six-foot-six of muscle-bound man-meat; brooding dark brown eyes, jet black hair and chiseled features that had no right to exist on this earth unless they were planted between Emily’s thighs; which, if her recent masturbatory habits were any indication, he had been, albeit inside her head.

  Standing under the hot spray of her shower, Emily sighed, so tempted to take the edge off, again, but having taken one more look at the clock display, she vowed not to touch herself until she’d had her run, eaten breakfast and performed at least one round of the nearby neighbors with her sample packs; then, and only then, would she indulge in a little afternoon play.

  Chapter Two

  Barefoot, wearing only loose-fitting gym shorts, Jacob padded around his luxury kitchen; fresh coffee grounds percolated filling the air with that glorious scent he loved. A breakfast of bacon and eggs freshly squeezed orange juice and the morning paper displayed on his tablet, Jacob reveled in the serenity of the morning.

  Having no other plans for the day, a self-made millionaire, Jacob intended to shop online for more equipment. His playroom, a converted bedroom with padded leather walls, floor, and ceiling, had the bare essentials for everything he might need to play with a potential submissive, but it lacked a couple of extras Jacob salivated over.

  Sipping coffee, he reclined in a large leather armchair next to his bay window and stared out at his gardens. Despite being mid-summer, rain had fallen the night before and consequently, everything glistened, shining with dew that in an hour would have evaporated. He had an excellent view of the ornate six-foot iron fencing that surrounded his property and the gate in particular; not that he was expecting visitors, but forewarned was forearmed as his dearly departed grandmother used to say.

  The tablet in his lap, Jacob looked down, he’d searched for suspension swings first, hefty pieces of equipment that would be fitted to his playroom ceiling; not seeing what he wanted, Jacob swiped left and moved on to leather-bound horses that looked remarkably like the type of gym equipment you’d have seen in old movies depicting school life. The main differences though were that these had embedded metal rings, to which you’d attach chains or links to someone’s cuffs.

  “Nice.”

  He picked one that suited his needs, matched the rest of his playroom in leather color and wood, then moved on to display crosses; allowing the tablet to settle in his lap, Jacob closed his eyes to briefly imagine a certain redheaded vixen naked, bound with cuffs and spread out upon such a device.

  Jacob grew hard, his erection twitching beneath the tablet to move it.

  Indulging in a few minutes of fantasy, what could be the harm? He quickly began to visualize Emily writhing and squirming, making sweet sounds of pleasure as Jacob teased and toyed with her vulnerable body…

  ***

  Emily bid the woman a good morning and made her way down the garden path, having made promises to return the following day with more samples; a successful sale had given buoyancy to her steps. High-end cosmetics and accouterment she’d help to design filled her leather case; heavy, but not arduous to carry, she pushed open the neighboring gate and looked at the house in front of her.

  At first, she saw nothing other than the house itself, a beautiful cream exterior, bright red roof, and a dark mahogany front door; the bay windows stood out prominently, their high and wide panes would no doubt give the occupant a glorious vista of the coast.

  Approaching closer, taking time to appreciate the view herself, Emily noted a figure seated behind the glass…

  ***

  Jacob pushed the tablet aside hearing it thud, landing on the carpet, its display showing the last piece he’d been viewing.

  His right hand slipped inside the thin gym shorts and grasped his erection. “Ohhh, Emily, yeah… Good girl, suck it.” Jacob’s fantasy had moved on from the redhead spread out on the equipment he’d considered buying and now, i
nstead, kneeled in front of him, bound by cuffs and using her mouth to give him a blow-job.

  Fingers tightened around his cock as Jacob stroked, up and down. Finding the confines of his shorts too limiting, he pushed them halfway down his hips to give freedom of movement. His thumb swept across the bulbous tip that had darkened in color, returning to curve around the girth tightly. “Suck it, yeah, suck it harder, gag for me.”

  ***

  Emily stood in the middle of the pathway, unable to move, rooted to the spot, eyes wide and unblinking; was she seeing what she thought she was seeing or was this a mad hallucination brought on by several nights of masturbatory fantasies?

  She looked around, no, no other witnesses, nobody approached up the path behind her, nobody else was visible inside the house other than Jacob, reclined in a leather armchair wanking.

  Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god… He’s got his cock out, fuck, look at the size of it.

  Fascinated, transfixed, Emily inadvertently took several steps toward Jacob’s window, heedless of the grass, gravel, plants or anything else she might be stepping on, compelled to get closer.

  ***

  Jacob let loose a series of groans as pre-cum dribbled down from the tip of his cock enough to lubricate his palm somewhat as it glided up and down, faster, rhythmically bringing him toward a climax.

  He visualized Emily's lips playing the part of his fingers, up, and down, up, and down, “Fuck yes, good girl, don’t stop, that’s right, gag, yes.” He could practically hear her making those sweet retching sounds he found so arousing.

  Pushing harder, faster, he could almost see her throat bulge as her eyes streamed with tears; those sweet, bright green eyes blinking up at him in lustful adoration, that rounded face decorated with freckles that would soon be splattered with cum, the rich red hair that clung to her damp features which would also have their share in ejaculate.

  That gorgeous face…

  ***

  Emily stood right outside the window, barely a few feet away from the writhing Jacob, unable to hear or smell, she could only imagine what those senses were missing out on, but for what they lacked, it was made up for in the visual department.

  Had she been anywhere else, Emily might have shared in the experience, fondled, groped or rubbed herself to completion but instead, she lived vicariously through Jacob at that moment, imagining the sounds of his flesh stroked, his moans, his increased breathing.

  Her thighs squeezed together in an attempt to quell the throbbing ache of her pussy, she knew without having to touch that her panties were by now soaked through, evidence of which could be felt against her inner thighs; she’d chosen a professional suit, blouse, and skirt, the latter of which stopped shortly above her knees and at that moment, she fervently wished that no such items stood in the way of her touching, that was she with him, next to Jacob, in his lap, on his cock, those items of clothing that shielded her from the elements would be gone in seconds.

  “Oh, god.” She whispered, her breath fogging the glass, momentarily obliterating the view. “Oh, god, cum soon.” Emily willed Jacob on, to move faster, harder, as she nodded, and squirmed, almost pressed up against the window.

  ***

  Moments away from orgasm, Jacob felt the familiar tightening of his cum filled ballsac, his movements had become jerky, spasmodic and erratic, no longer owning that fluid smoothness of before, his control wavered, his face contorted and at the last possible moment, his eyes opened…

  That gorgeous face…

  “FUCK!”

  He exploded, cum spurted, jetting from his pulsating cock to spatter across his lap, down his legs, to decorate the grey carpet; one large glob landed on the tablet, the rest, he had no idea, and didn’t care, for, at that precise second, his contorted features knew only horror and pain of a partially interrupted climax.

  “Emily?!”

  ***

  Emily could have reacted in several ways; she could have turned and fled, running from one of the most erotic spectacles she’d ever witnessed in her twenty-eight years; she could have burst into tears, feigning horror and begun to yell at Jacob; she could have laughed; she could have fainted. She did none of this, and instead, on seeing her name on his lips, smiled, then beckoned to him, gesturing in the direction of his front door, a slight tilt of her head and an expression filled with promise.

  Chapter Three

  Jacob scolded himself. He knew better. Seated in full view of his front garden where anyone could see him on arrival when not fully dressed was one thing, an indulgence, but to not only expose himself then masturbate like some animal on display was another thing altogether.

  Dismayed at his behavior, Jacob acknowledged Emily’s gesture with one of his own that said ‘meet you at the door’.

  Hoisting his shorts up and over his tumescent dick, he adjusted it, sighed at the mess and shrugged; there seemed little point to cleaning up at that moment given that Emily had quite literally seen every single droplet.

  Opening the front door, Jacob stood back to allow Emily entry, she smiled, walked smoothly past him, swiveled, turning to face him and said, “That was quite the show, will there be an encore?”

  Jacob laughed, shrugging, he responded with a wry grin on his face that showed he was nowhere near embarrassed as perhaps someone else might have been under the circumstances.

  “Well, now that you mention it, that might be possible.”

  He welcomed Emily in with a broad hand gesture “Make yourself comfortable; I’ll get cleaned up.”

  Taking a few steps to close the distance between them, Emily, feeling bold, reached out to where a droplet of cum clung to Jacob’s lower abdomen and swiped it away using one finger; holding it up as though in offering she smirked, and said: “I can help you with that.”

  Jacob knew at that moment he was in trouble, his wet dream, his fantasy, stood right in front of him, offering to do all manner of things no doubt, but, he couldn’t allow that, no, his dominant nature wouldn’t allow it.

  Watching as Emily suckled her finger clean, Jacob took in a deep cleansing breath and said, “Sit down, wait for me.”

  Something in his tone told Emily to obey, and, not perturbed at all, she smiled, turned and moved to sit in the chair opposite to the one he’d recently vacated. Setting down her product and sample case, she modestly crossed one leg over the other and rather primly spoke, “Yes Sir, I’ll wait right here.” No mockery, entirely sincere, she smiled, a little excited by the developments because for a second, she’d wondered if her actions had been too much.

  “Good girl.”

  Emily shivered in the wake of that praise, two simple words, two syllables that seemed to zing straight to her clit and leave it throbbing.

  ***

  Jacob showered quickly, soaping his entire body from head to toe and rinsed under a hot spray. He needed the time to compose himself fully, to reign in control, to understand and appreciate this turn of events. When he’d sat down with his coffee that morning, he’d not anticipated anyone’s arrival much less the woman who’d dominated his dreams for the past few nights, the woman responsible for his waking discomfort, the woman who’d contributed unwittingly to his laundry bill.

  Drying off rapidly and donning jogging bottoms, Jacob returned to where Emily still sat; at first, he assumed she’d not moved the entire time he’d been gone, that is until seeing the area around his armchair devoid of spatter.

  “You cleaned?”

  Emily shrugged and answered, “It’s the least I could do; I somehow feel responsible.”

  Jacob frowned, knowing full well she couldn’t have known what he’d been fantasizing about then or the nights leading up to that morning. “How so?” He asked when stepping barefoot into the kitchen to retrieve a fresh cup of coffee, gesturing to her wordlessly by holding up an empty cup.

  She nodded and explained, “I get the feeling that I interrupted you, that had you been entirely alone, you’d have uh, contained it better?”

&nbs
p; He snorted a short bark of laughter, poured Emily’s coffee and carried it to her, then sat down where he’d been when this had all started; the scent of disinfectant wafted up under his nose until he replaced it with the coffee he inhaled, savoring the rich aroma. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  Emily shrugged again, taking small sips of her freshly brewed elixir and groaned with appreciation, “this is delicious. Thank you.”

  Scanning the room, Jacob noted his tablet, the screen not set to blank or save during periods of inactivity, still displayed the equipment he’d so clearly visualized Emily restrained against in his fantasy and unless it had sprouted legs, he knew that she’d have picked it up during her cleaning session and seen what was on it.

  Emily had seen his expression, watched his gaze and smiled, as though reading his mind, “It’s an interesting bit of uh, what would you call it? A Device? Tool? Equipment?”

  “It’s a St. Andrew’s Cross, you’ll find them most commonly in BDSM dungeons, I was thinking of purchasing one for my playroom.”

  Emily sat forward in her seat, intrigued, questions on the tip of her tongue, her eyes darting between the tablet, which she couldn’t see the screen of, and Jacob’s face, unable to gauge his expression, not knowing him well enough.

  “Can I see it? Your playroom?”

  Jacob smiled, enjoying the eagerness in Emily, the tutor in him wanted to teach, the dominant in him wanted to dominate, the romantic in him saw a future with her at his side, or kneeling at his feet.

  “If I show you, there are rules, I’ll explain them, and you can either agree or disagree; you agree, we’ll enter and I’ll allow you time to ask questions, to explore, you disagree, the subject ends here, and now, we can enjoy the rest of our coffees, and perhaps arrange to go out to dinner later.”

  There wasn’t a chance in hell Emily was letting this opportunity slip past and nodded her head, “I understand, I’ll listen to the rules, please, go ahead.”