Magnifique

I stepped out of the elevator and approached the penthouse of Wyatt Agard, clutching the box of profiteroles that I’d made. I was nervous. I was nervous about the simple fact that he’d told me to arrive at his apartment an hour before the rest of the team.

He had planned a big dinner and we would discuss a new manuscript over it. Why did he want me to come early? Was he going to review my performance with the company? I had been there the least amount of time and no doubt had much to offer to contribute. Perhaps he didn’t like the manuscript I’d turned in to him a week earlier? 

Wyatt agard could be an intimidating man. He was French, playful and also serious at times. I’d seen him fire an intern after only working for five minutes because he didn’t like her work ethic. According to him, there was a time to play and a time to work. 

Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door. I waited a moment, but there was no answer. I knocked again. 

“Yes! Yes! I am coming!” I heard him call from behind the door. 

After a few moments, I heard the deadbolt click and the door opened, revealing a half naked Wyatt. I nearly choked on my spit. He was shirtless, and his slacks were unfastened, revealing his low cut boxers and a trail of hair that led from his navel to below his boxers. His chiseled chest was covered in a thin layer of hair and it took every bit of my self control to keep from touching him. I hadn’t been laid in five months. 

“Oh, hello Noel,” he greeted politely with a smile. 

“Good evening Mr. Agard,” I greeted.

“Wyatt, when we’re alone,” he stated, stepping to the side so I could enter. I did and he shut the door behind me.

“What are those?” he asked, pointing to the box in my hands.

“I made profiteroles,” I answered, passing him the box. 

“Oooh, these are my favorites. There is a little bakery in France that makes them and they are to die for,” he admitted. 

“Well, I doubt these are as good as those. I like to bake in my spare time, but not like worthy of a shop or anything,” I informed. 

He smiled. “Well, I will be sure to try them after dinner. If you’ll excuse me, I must finish dressing. Could you wait for me on the sofa?” he asked, ushering me towards the living room. 

I sat down and waited for him. I didn’t know how long he was going to take or if it would be rude to use my cellphone, so I just sat quietly with my hands clasped in my lap, admiring the layout of the room. 

“So, we must talk,” Wyatt stated, suddenly appearing behind me. I jumped.

“You scared me,” I admitted with a nervous laugh as I turned to look at him. 

He was dressed in a white royal oxford button down shirt with a black collar, buttons and cuffs tucked into black slacks. The first three buttons were undone, showing off a bit of his olive toned skin. 

He slid onto the couch and surprised me as he laid his head in my lap and looked up at me. “The manuscript you turned into me last week,” he began.

“Did you not like it? I thought it was well written,” I admitted.

“I love it. It was quite steamy and I’m French, so I enjoy the passion. I am a sucker for romance. There was one scene in particular I enjoyed very much. I memorized the shower scene. Tell me, do you know the writer, Leon Nedra? You have been giving me many of his manuscripts as of late,” he stated, looking up at me curiously. 

“I’ve not met him in person, just through e-mail correspondence,” I admitted. 

“I was surprised with the way he described the female orgasm. It was as if it was from a woman’s perspective,” he mused. 

“Perhaps he has a lover?” I suggested. 

“Perhaps, it could be possible. Or perhaps Leon Nedra is Noel Arden?” he deduced, reaching up and placing his hand on my cheek. 

I immediately turned red. He was sure to fire me. We had strict rules about turning in our own manuscripts. 

“Mr. Agard--,” I began nervously. 

“Wyatt,” he corrected. 

“Please don’t fire me for breaking the rules,” I begged. “I enjoy working for the company so much and it’s the best job I’ve ever had.”

“Why would I fire you, Leon? You’re a damn good writer,” he stated.

“Because I broke the rules and I know how seriously you take them,” I admitted. 

He sighed. “Well yes, this is true,” he replied sitting up. He stood and walked towards the kitchen bar and poured himself a glass of wine. He took a long swallow, emptied the glass and refilled it. 

Reapproaching me, he offered me the same glass he’d just drunk out of. I took it and downed the contents. 

“There are many aspects of the manuscript I’d like to discuss. For example, these love scenes that you write, are they from experience or imagination?” he inquired. 

I felt my face turn bright red. My actual love life was quite vanilla in comparison to what I wrote. 

“A bit of both,” I answered. 

He smiled, as if amused and rose once more. Taking the glass from me, he refilled it again. 

“We are going to play a little game. I am going to bring up parts of the manuscript. For every part that you’ve made up, you’re going to remove an article of clothing. For every part that I have experienced in real life, I will remove an article of clothing. What do you say?” he questioned. 

“But what is the point? And isn’t the rest of the team joining us for dinner soon?” I inquired, nervous. 

“The point is to get to know a little bit more about you. And no, the team will not be joining us. I have called off the dinner. I would like to enjoy a more private moment with you,” he answered. 

I stared at him, appalled. “And if I play this game, at what point do I stop removing my clothes?” I inquired. 

“Until there is nothing left. Of course if you have honestly experienced these experiences, then you don’t have to take anything off,” he replied. 

“Okay, fine,” I agreed, taking the glass from him and chugging it. I was going to need a little bit of liquid courage. 

“That is a yes?” he verified.

“Yes,” I replied. 

He rose, brought the bottle of wine over and sat it down on the glass table in front of us. He refilled the glass and downed it. “Have you ever had a real orgasm?” he inquired, starting off with the first question. My face turned bright red, but my clothing remained intact. He didn’t need to know that it was from a vibrator and not a real man. 

“Have you?” I countered. Leaning down he removed his socks and threw them to the ground, with a wicked grin. 

“Have you ever had sex in public where you could be discovered?” he asked. I leaned down and removed my heels and stockings in response. 

“You haven’t?” he questioned, clearly amused. 

“No. Have you?” I inquired.

“Oh yes, plenty of times. It’s very fun. You should try it,” he replied, loosening his tie and removing it. It joined the pile with his socks. 

“Have you had more than one partner during a sexual encounter?” he questioned. I unbuttoned my shirt and removed it. I’m glad I decided to wear a tank top underneath it. 

He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the ground. “My, you’re promiscuous, aren’t you?” I mused. He chuckled in response.

 “Have you ever engaged in violent sex, had sex in the shower, participated in 69, or filmed a sexual encounter?” he interrogated. 

“That’s not fair! It’s one question at a time!” I shouted.

He chuckled again. “I’ll save you the time and effort,” he stated as he stood. I watched anxiously as he removed the rest of his clothing and stood before me naked. 

I gulped and undressed, complying with the rules of the game. He’d asked me four questions at one time because they left me completely naked as I removed my tank top, skirt, bra, and panties. 

I watched as he lowered himself to his knees in front of me. “You will get to experience these things with me. That is a promise,” he declared as he placed his large hands on my knees and parted my legs. 

He leaned back on his haunches and smiled, admiring the view. “Que c'est beau!” he remarked in French before lowering his head. I felt his warm breath between my legs and it made my flesh tingle. I gasped as he began to lick and nibble my clit. I felt like I was going to come right then, but he moved his tongue lower down and inserted it into my hole. 

I leaned back into the couch cushions, my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. I felt his head move and I opened my eyes to see him looking at me. “What?” I asked, somewhat puzzled. 

“You will have to forgive me. I wanted the first time to be slow and sweet, but I don’t think I can do that,” he replied. With no warning, he rose and scooped me up into his arms as he carried me into his bedroom. 

It was a spacious room with several large window panes. It was a very open space and looking out you could see the street below with cars passing and people walking past. He set me down in front of one of the windows and pressed me face first against the glass. 

He squashed me against the window as he pressed his chest into my back. I felt his hard-on on my buttocks. “Step one, have sex for the world to see,” he murmured huskily, his lips at my ear. I shivered as he lowered his mouth and began to kiss my neck and throat. 

Sliding one hand under my chin, he forcibly turned it to him where his lips came crashing down on top of mine. He bit and sucked on my lips until it hurt, but I didn’t care. I wanted more. I parted my lips and his tongue immediately entered my mouth. 

He pulled away momentarily as he reached between us and guided his large cock to my entrance. He didn’t ask for my permission or if I was ready as he shoved it into me, thrusting hard into me. 

He buried one hand in my hair and used the other one to turn my head back to him as he kissed me once more. I moaned against his lips as he pounded wildly into me from behind. Releasing my chin, his fingers came up around my throat as he applied pressure. 

“Do you like that?” he groaned huskily into my ear as he pushed me harder into the window, flattening my breasts against the glass. 

“Yes!” I moaned as he continued to thrust into me, his balls slapping against my ass. 

With no warning, he pulled out of me and turned me around to face him. Lifting me up into his arms, he carried me over to the bed where he threw me down onto the mattress. Wasting no time he climbed over top of me and grabbed me by the neck, locking his mouth onto mine. He plunged into me once more and I shouted in ecstasy, digging my nails into his back and my legs around his waist. 

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to come. “I’m coming,” I moaned against his lips as I came. My climax crashed through me, sending waves throughout my entire body. 

“Me too!” he replied with a groan, pulling out as he ejaculated on my stomach. Breathing heavily he collapsed onto the mattress beside me. We were both a sweaty mess. 

“Shall we wash off?” he suggested nearly thirty minutes later. I had almost drifted off to sleep. 

“Yes,” I replied, following him to the bathroom. It was a large room with a walk in shower. He turned on the water and stepped in. I was delightfully surprised when he turned the water temperature to scalding hot. I loved a hot shower.

“Let me wash your back,” he stated as he rubbed a bar of soap across my skin. His touch made my flesh tingle and I was ready to have him inside me once more. I turned to face him and it surprised him, making him drop the soap. He grinned slyly. “Are you going to pick it up?” he questioned. 

Turning away from him, I knelt down and reached for the bar of soap. Suddenly I felt his hands on my hips. “Your cunt looks good from this angle. I think I’ll take her again,” he remarked as he guided his member into me. I straightened and he pushed me into the wall as he took me from behind once more. 

“Ohhh,” I moaned as he guided my head to his. He kissed me roughly, biting on my lower lip. Lifting my arms above my head, he pressed my palms to the wall, intertwining his fingers with mine. Lowering his head he kissed and sucked at the flesh of my neck, throat, and shoulder. I could feel that he was leaving bruises. 

He disentangled one of his hands from mine and slid it between my legs, gripping my clit between his thumb and forefinger. “Come for me,” he commanded with his lips at my ear as he began to stroke my clit. 

It didn’t take me long to climax. As soon as I did, I felt him tremble as he squirted his hot semen inside me. After a moment or two he released me and I turned around to face him, feeling almost shy. 

Tilting my head upwards he examined my neck. “I left too many marks. Forgive me, I was carried away,” he apologized. 

Smiling, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his neck and gave him a hickey. “It’s okay, we’re even now,” I replied. 

“They do look quite nice on you,” he remarked, shaping his fingers into the shape of a pretend camera and taking a pretend picture. “Magnifique,” he muttered with a grin. 

***Music: Whore by In This Moment***