Page 91 of The Import Slot
She smiles at me when I drop my things on my desk, and I grab the camera from the storage cupboard near the window.
As luck has it, the coast is clear when we head down, and we don’t spot anyone else when we get to the tunnels.
Ryan grabs a towel from a stash of clean laundry as we round the corner and head to the end of the corridor where the storage room is.
He ushers me through the door, and a lingering smell hits me. My first thought is that it smells better than Danny’s room, and my second thought is that it’s hardly the place for a romantic lovemaking session. I guess it bodes well that we’re here for something different.
Ryan shoves an equipment box against the door, buying some time if anyone tries to come in.
I set down the camera, and he takes hold of me, his lips finding mine. He runs his hands up and down my hips before grabbing my waist and spinning me around, settling me to stand in front of some shelving.
“Do you like this dress?” he asks as I reach out and hold the rails.
“Yes! What’s wrong with it?” I ask, but he chuckles, bunching it up. His mouth finds my neck, and he gives me a nibble.
“What about these tights?”
“I like the tights. They cost a tenner a pair,” I say, but I gasp as soon as I hear a tear. It’s like something out of a movie.
“I’ll buy you a bunch of new tights.”
I hear the zip on his trousers, and he pulls my underwear to the side just as his finger brushes me, sliding into me slowly. It drives me crazy, and I push back onto him with greed.
“You’re so ready for me,” he says into my ear, and before I can even think about a reply, he’s sliding into me, slow and steady.
As soon as he fills me, he holds there a moment and positions himself steadily before pulling out and thrusting back in.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he says, his mouth next to my ear as he drives into me; he’s going for a rhythmic fucking that’s urgent and desperate, and I love it because I’ve missed him too.
I release a hand and reach for my clit, circling it with desperation for my release. I can hear myself shouting out, and his hand covers my mouth as he whispers for me to keep quiet, but as I come, I lose all control and gasp to restrain myself. Then, I can feel him coming too.
Then his voice rasps in my ear. “You’re staying over tonight, right?”
He pulls out and grabs the towel he took, using it to wipe me first, then himself, before stuffing his dick back into his trousers.
I try to right myself the best I can and assess my tights situation after pulling my dress back down.
“You’re perfect,” he says, reaching for my chin and bringing my mouth to his. It’s one of those moments where my head goes cloudy, and I can’t think straight. I thought I’d be over this by now.
“Are you sure?” I manage myself to say, turning around and trying to feel how big of a hole he made.
“Babe, if you’re asking me to check out your ass more than I already do, I’m game.” He gives me a playful spank, and I let out an audible gasp before giggling like an idiot.
I grab the camera, Ryan moves the equipment box back, and we head out. He tosses the towel into a laundry bin as we round the corner. I gasp as we come face to face with Vicky, who’s smirking at us.
“That equipment room is equivalent to the on-call room in ‘Grey’s Anatomy’,” she says.
I can’t even look at her. I’m mortified.
“Just don’t be the reason they introduce a fraternisation policy,” she says, with a hint of amusement in her voice.
She’s right, of course; I’m being reckless, and it’s entirely out of character for me.
“We should get started,” I say, waving the camera, trying to move the attention away from our recent demeanours.
Ryan leads us into the dressing room, where Johnny’s sitting in his stall.
“What are you doing here?” Vicky fires at him.
