jetaiimee

[jetaiimee]

"Glenfiddich has been a loyal partner through more boardroom battles than I care to admit," he said smoothly, swirling the amber liquid in the glass. His eyes flicked down briefly as she crossed her arms, a slow, appreciative glance that didn’t go unnoticed. He shrugged lightly at her question about his work. "I'm our average white-collar guy. Spending my days wrestling with numbers and keeping everything from falling apart."

She let out a soft sigh of relieve upon hearing him lower the volume of the music, a light smile curling on her lips. To be honest, Eden was just glad she didn't have to go into a fight with him. That would make the worst impression. "I appreciate that, thank you." It wasn't until he spoke again that she raised her brows, a soft scoff of amusement leaving her throat. "I'll think about it. When's the next party?" Eden only chuckled, head shaking slowly. "Or are you the kind of guy that just parties on his own, every night? With a-" she leaned in slightly to lightly sniff above the glass he held. "Glenfiddich, I'm guessing?" Blame her father being a whisky lover. At his question about her work, she shrugged slowly, arms crossing in front of her chest. It was a bit chilly on the hallways and she was only wearing the thin silken fabric around her body, not wanting to make it uncomfortable or inappropriate for him as she stood there with her hardened nipples. God knows if he had a girlfriend or wife inside. "It's a shitty corporate job, yeah.." Eden had to chuckle at that. "But it pays pretty good and I shouldn't have to be doing too much besides smiling and waving at white collar men, acting a little dumb here and there." The blonde smirked lightly, eyes wandering along his face for a moment. "What about you? How do you spend your days if you're not pissing of your new neighbor?" Light, teasing smile.

[jetaiimee]

Samantha tried her best to silence her moans and whimpers, but failed dramatically. She wasn't the loudest in the room normally, often well-spoken and phrased her words perfectly. She forgot everything about that person she was when she was undone like this by Isaac.

"Mm.. god yes--!" She exclaimed, letting go of his hair and placed her palms against the wall behind her, supporting herself from falling. Her legs was shaking, unable to control her reactions when she climaxed.

Samantha's encouragement was intoxicating. As good as it felt to fuck her, to get sucked by her, to taste her, her praise, her encouragement felt just as good. It wasn't a bonus, but one of the main reasons Isaac kept coming back to her.

It was likely the same for her, as she tended to benefit from the effects of her praise: he shifted into his highest, hungriest gear, grunting against her pussy, the sound of his fingers in her loud in the quiet hallway. Someone would still have to enter the hall to hear them, but they wouldn't have to walk very far down...

He didn't care, though: his focus was only on Samantha. The world around him went quiet, the lens of his attention narrowing to her silhouette. He did look up at her, though, not wanting to miss the show of her climax from where he knelt between her thighs.

[jetaiimee]

Jenny took the bottle from Sam with a smirk, her fingers brushing his just long enough for it to be intentional. "Both. I've toured more yachts than I can count, but knowing the specs isn't the same as knowing how to use them." The door swung shut behind him with a sudden click, sealing them into the warm, cramped space. She took a sip of the chilled champagne, a sharp contrast to the warmth building in the tiny room. She could smell his cologne now, subtle and clean. Her knees brushed the sides of Sam's thighs, her smile deepening as the closeness became impossible to ignore. Jenny took another slow sip, wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb, then tossed her long blonde hair off her shoulder.

Sam didn't bother hiding the genuine surprise on his face at Jenny's reveal.

Unlike most of his family, he treated the people that worked for them with respect. That respect extended to their unease around their bosses, however, so he gave them a wide berth, not wanting to put them in positions where they had to worry about saying the right thing. That's why, despite his surprise at what he was seeing, he wasn't surprised he didn't know about it. Why would he know about a space that was the crew's and the crew's alone?

He was not, however, above using it for his own means.

"This is genuinely the first time I've ever seen this," he confessed, stepping forward until he was standing between Jenny's legs. He handed her the bottle of champagne as he asked, "Do you know about this place because of your job, or... experience?"

[jetaiimee]

It was difficult to keep the icy front when he talked like this. So smooth, so charming. His touch was comforting, not in a sexual way, not yet at least. Honestly, Phoebe was so used to polishing the image she showed the world, always thinking of the next photos to publish, to show the world her life was perfect. She wanted no different tonight with Isaiah. She wasn't comfortable enough to be just her around him- if she even knew who that was.

A long inhale, shoulders raising before she admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe I'm overreacting. I just want to look nice for you. Keep things interesting."

Isaiah tilted his head slightly, letting his gaze travel from the blonde’s carefully styled hair down to outfit she’d chosen for the evening. It was hard to miss the meticulous effort she’d put into looking this captivating tonight. “I don’t doubt tons of effort went into it,” he said softly, brushing a hand down her arm as a faint smile appeared. “You look beautiful.” The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable.

When she questioned if he truly wanted to be there, Isaiah raised an eyebrow, brushing off the thought. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t have showed up after work. I don’t just show up for the sake of it,” he replied, voice dropping to a lower, more intimate register as he drew closer. “I came because I wanted to see you. To cuddle you. To kiss you.” His gaze met hers, making it clear that tonight, she was the only place he wanted to be.

[jetaiimee]

The way Evan would carry himself in the office that day. Like a fucking legend. Not very different from his usual self, but a trained eye would notice a difference. Winnie tightened around, moaning into his ear like a sweet symphony. Her words were all the encouragement he needed to finish, a few final thrusts into her delicious pussy before he pulled out, leaving a sticky mess all over her lower stomach. Selfish perhaps, but a nice visual for him at least.

Lifting his hand up to his forehead, wiping away the damp sweat that had formed, he flashed her a grin. "You're the best," Evan said, his voice filled with admiration. "Can't believe I'm walking out on this."

Her breath hitched sharply as she felt the shift in his pace, a slow, burning tease that left her arching into every movement. The heat of his voice and the pressure of his hand between her legs drew a low moan from deep within her chest, making her grip at him harder, nails brushing across the toned lines of his back. The sting of urgency in the air only added to the thrill, every second making it feel like the whole room was wrapped in sparks.

With that cocky glance and the shift of his hands to her waist, she tightened herself around him, matching the quickening rhythm of his hips. “Then don’t hold back,” she gasped, voice breathless and dripping with need, brushing her lips to the shell of his ear. Winnie felt her stomach tighten, she knew she was really close. "Babe...fuck..." she stuttered out.

[jetaiimee]

send in a "∞ + a number between 1-30" & i'll write something a starter based on that song in my "on repeat" playlist.

[jetaiimee]

Martin’s grin widened, clearly enjoying her mix of sarcasm and sincerity. He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. He gave her a mock-serious nod. "Alright, I'll tame the beast for you. Can't have my new neighbor facing the wrath of a sleep-deprived first day."

He flicked the volume dial on his phone down just enough to keep the vibe alive but respectful. "But only if you promise to join the next party. No bags under your eyes, but maybe a little fun in them. "So, what’s the big first day? Starting somewhere exciting, or just diving headfirst into corporate misery like the rest of us?"

The blonde was lost for words for a little while, staring back at the male at the other side of the room. To be honest, Eden didn't know what she had expected but it clearly wasn't this. He looked pretty good. Suspiciously handsome, really. The way he just seemed to shrug everything off with such ease and jokes made her want to suppress the smile that was growing on her face. "Lucky me." Was all she managed to bring out, head shaking slowly. With a little sigh, she peeked over his shoulder inside, then back up to the male. "You're such a funny guy." Sarcasm. "I'm happy you're enjoying whatever party you got going but the bass practically drips down to my floor." Eden started, a lot calmer than she had intended to when she stormed to his door earlier. "Can you turn the volume down just a little? I'd appreciate that. I have my first day at work tomorrow and I don't want to show up with bags under my eyes or have my new boss killing me."

[jetaiimee]

Her praise seemed to work. She loved the way her sweet words always seemed to ignite something extra within him, always eager to please. "Oh god," Samantha groaned as he upped the intensity, a warm feeling building in the low of her stomach. Soon it would feel as if her legs were to give in beneath her, her climax building all thanks to Isaac.

"Keep going. Don't stop--!" She had to cum. Craved it. Needed it so badly.

Isaac moaned beneath Samantha's praise, heedless of how loud he may or may not have been. Between her fingers in his hair and her calling him "good boy", Isaac was once again a needy mess. As his cock throbbed between his thighs, however, he channeled that need into being hungrier between her thighs. His licks became more fevered, the thrusts of his fingers stronger. He didn't know how much time they had, if she'd want to stop soon, so he wasn't going to hold back.

[jetaiimee]

Though it was her first time aboard this yacht, she knew this model inside and out. "Follow me". She led Sam down the corridor, past the polished teak and dim lighting. "This is the secret crew cabin," she said, pressing a hidden latch. The door creaked open to reveal a cramped little space with a tiny bed perched awkwardly on top of a washing machine, surrounded by stacked supplies and cleaning gear.

"It's rarely used because it’s basically a closet with a bed. The crew avoids it whenever possible. Too noisy, and you get rocked around every time the washer is on." With ease, she pushed herself up onto the bed, the hem of her dress riding just mid-thigh, revealing long, sun-kissed legs that dangled slightly off the edge.

Jenny shot Sam a mischievous look, then slowly reached her foot toward him, her legs parting slightly. "Don't tell me this is where they made you sleep," she teased.

"I've gotten quite a bit of use out of it," Sam answered, a self-satisfied smirk crossing his face as he enjoyed the myriad memories of his time on this particular yacht. "But!" he turned his attention back to Jenny, but his smirk remained. "You're clearly the expert, so, please:" he waved an arm, indicating the rest of the yacht. "Show me what I'm missing. Show me how to get the most out of this boat." He polished off the rest of his champagne, but then pulled the bottle out of the ice, planning to bring it with them.

[jetaiimee]

open to: f (his secretary -- sexual tension encouraged!!) muse: martin (34), CFO, hides a portion of his wealth in an off-shore account (and tells himself it's "just smart business"), has multiple travel reward programs memorized and can pack for a weekend in ibiza in under 8 minutes.

The city lights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows blurred into streaks of neon as Martin sat alone in his dimly lit office, the glow of his laptop the only illumination. Papers were scattered across the desk, numbers and graphs swimming before his tired eyes, but he pushed through, fueled by a mix of stubborn ambition and way too much espresso.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, jaw clenched, when the soft click of the door startled him. Looking up, he found her standing in the doorway, framed by the warm hallway light. Her presence was a sudden contrast to the sterile hum of spreadsheets and deadlines.

"You're still here? Well, that makes this late night a little less lonely."

[jetaiimee]

Samantha let out a soft gasp when Isaac's finger pushed inside of her, a thrilling sensation in combination with the way he licked and toyed with her clit. "Such a good boy," she breathily whispered, her nails grazing against his scalp in a praising manner. The faint sound of music played in the distance, reminding them of the party that was still going on. The civilized party they were supposed to attend.

Isaac wanted to protest, to refute Samantha's claims: all he thought about were consequences. He thought about the consequences of them being caught, and of the consequences of... everything. Isaac spent most of his time imagining the worst possible outcomes for anything that could possibly happen!

The only reason he was on his knees, eating her pussy, however, was because he ignored those thoughts. Their affair was the first thing he said yes to... pretty much ever? Without worrying about the consequences. He didn't want to be reminded of that during what was, in effect, a vacation from worry.

He wanted to say all these things... but he wanted more to just keep eating her pussy. So he did. He also shifted his weight so he could lap and suck and slurp at her clit while he pushed one, then two fingers inside of her. He groaned at how silky wet she felt around his fingers, and wasted no time stroking her in concert with his licks.

[jetaiimee]

"So instead of solving your problem like a grown-up; golf, therapy, sex with an ex... you lure me onto a yacht under false pretenses just to feel something?” She gave him a slow, deliberate once-over. “You must be really bored."

"I bet you’ve had your share of models sprawled across that master bed… but how many times have you actually explored your own yacht? I mean really explored it? Cabin to cabin. Wall to window. Deck to galley. No itinerary. No destination. Just you. Me. And whatever trouble we feel like finding." Her suggestion was bold, but she was sure he would approve.

Sam shrugged, grabbing his own flute of champagne. "I was bored. Just asking you to join me would've been too easy. At least I got to see you at work. If I were interested in chartering, you definitely would have convinced me." He chuckled, pleased with himself, and took a sip of his champagne.

[jetaiimee]

[jetaiimee]

It was way too late for a plot twist now. She had decided to put up this wall between them tonight, better stay in character. "Don't act like I'm the one who has to win you round. You have no idea all the things I did today to look like this." Phoebe turned towards him when he pulled back, her palms pressing against the marble counter, keeping herself steady without posing too much.

"Maybe I don't want you here," she returned, crossing her own arms across her chest, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She said it more like it was a question-- mostly to herself. "Do you even want to be here?"

Isaiah let go of her hips slowly, the warmth of her body still lingering on his fingertips as her words hit him—sharp and final. She told him he should leave, her voice low but resolute, a boundary drawn. He stepped back, the space between them suddenly heavy, arms folding tightly over his chest as if to shield himself from the sting of rejection. His eyes didn’t waver, steady and searching hers. “You know this isn’t the way to win me round, right?” he said, his tone firm, laced with exhaustion. “I’ve done a long shift and you’re acting like you don’t want me here.” The frustration edged into his voice now, but beneath it was a thread of vulnerability, something quieter he wouldn’t let rise to the surface. He stood tall, unwavering, trying not to let her see the tension in his jaw or the tightness in his chest. “This tantrum isn’t cute. No matter how hot you look.”

[jetaiimee]

Fucking hell, she was good at this. Evan supported her back when she came closer, her warm breath tickling at his ear. His pace slowed down significantly, mainly to keep himself from cumming right there and then. "Trust me honey, I won't be able to think about anything else today." His voice was just as thick with desire as hers, low groans emitting from his chest when he started thrusting back into her, slowly this time.

Skillfully his thumb moved down between her legs, drawing circles over her clitoris. See, he wasn't all selfish this morning after all. Evan threw a glance down at his Rolex; fuck- he was about to be really late. "Come on babe, let's wrap this up," he said with a cocky grin, his hands finding their spot on her waist again, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Winnie let out a breathless laugh, the kind that melted into a moan as her fingers curled against the edge of the table, knuckles white. “Both,” she managed, voice thick with pleasure, “but especially like this.” Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in deeper, savouring the way he filled her so completely. The contrast between his crisp clothes and her near-nakedness made everything more intoxicating—like she was his secret, his indulgence before the world demanded his composure again.

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as her fingers slid up beneath his shirt, nails grazing lightly along his back. “You always leave your mark,” she whispered, voice low and sultry, “but this time, I want you to remember exactly how I felt wrapped around you when you’re sitting in that boardroom.” Her lips brushed his jaw, slow and deliberate. “Every decision you make today—make it knowing I’m still aching for you.” Her hips rolled to meet his, drawing out a deep groan between them.

[jetaiimee]

Phoebe never expected to see Lucius again, let alone over oysters and Burgundy with her husband. Once just a flirty summer memory tucked away with sunburns and French cigarettes, Lucius had become something shinier and more dangerous; TR's newest investor, and the host of their very civilized dinner. Wine flowed, TR talked shop, but Phoebe couldn’t help noticing the way Lucius’ gaze lingered too long on her, or the occasional brush of his hand on the small of her back when he leaned in to refill her glass.

Phoebe knew exactly what she was doing when she chose the dress that evening. Silk, charcoal gray, with a neckline that dared anyone to look away. By the time they were back in his penthouse, Phoebe’s thoughts were blurred by the alcohol and the warmth pooling low in her belly. Her mind circled back to that night with Lucius in the South of France, but the details were too blurred.

Lucius poured them another round of wine, his eyes never leaving Phoebe as he slid the glass towards her. TR watched quietly from the couth, telling them to go ahead without him as he checked some e-mails. She took a slow sip of her wine, the rich taste lingering on her tongue. The air between them thickened, charged with unspoken desire. "If I gave you a reason to, how far do you think you’d take this?" Her voice was a soft whisper, while her fingertips traced lightly over his, resting together on the slender stem of the glass. @burnishedrebel