Page 43 of For You, Sir

“Let’s go over here,” he said, leading me to the guest bed. I stepped out of my pants and followed.

He pushed me onto the bed on my back. (How many times had I dreamed of him doing that very thing?) I bounced a little on the mattress, nearly losing my grip on the phone, then settled back with my head on the pillow.

Sir leaned over as if to kiss me and reached under the pillow and pulled out something he had stashed underneath. He whisked it behind his back before I could see it properly, but I thought I glimpsed something flexible, knobby, and blue—a sex toy? Maybe he remembered that he’d left it under there and didn’t want me finding it while I lay in his bed. With my penchant for silicon strokers, I wasn’t one to judge.

I ached for him to touch me more, to kiss me, but he just knelt beside me on the mattress with his hands behind his back and an impish smile on his face.

What a tease. First, I couldn’t get him to stop groping me, now I couldn’t get him to continue! Fine. If he was going to get me all worked up and leave me hanging, maybe I could tempt him by taking matters into my own hands. Still listening to bad hold music, I gazed up at him with my best attempt at bedroom eyes, caught my lower lip in my teeth, and began slowly stroking myself.Don’t you wish this hand was yours?

“Mr. Kim?” A different voice on the phone now. “Are you there?”

I released my cock, the erotic spell broken. “Yes,” I said in a too-eager teacher’s pet voice. “I’m still here.” How on earth had Sir gotten me acting so improper during this call in the first place?

“This is Carmen Bradley. Good to meet you.”

I cleared my throat and greeted her politely. Immediately distracted again when Sir produced a bright blue string of anal beads from behind his back. The toy was made from a flexible rubbery material and the line of balls bobbed in his hand like it was nodding agreeably. In his other hand, he clutched a bottle of lube and he shook both of them at me in invitation, raising his eyebrows.

I frowned and gave him my besthey-this-is-serious!face and shook my head. Carmen was rattling off a few boilerplate disclosures, and I was careful to follow along so I could “uh-huh” or “I see” at the right times.

Sir set down the items and reached for my hand. I gave it to him, puzzled. On my palm he traced:R-E-D-?

He couldn’t be serious! His sober expression said he was.

My face grew hot at the thought of him putting those beads inside me, let alone while I was on the phone. What was he thinking? He was the one who wanted me to make this call! But the ache inside me insisted I could handle the conversation fine, distractions or no. Sir wanted to know if the situation wasred.Blushing madly, I shook my head.

A wicked smile crossed Sir’s face and his eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger that had me questioning the wisdom of my decision. He clicked open the bottle of lubricant and poured some on his fingers, then pushed my knees apart and slicked it over my hole. I shivered at the wrongness of the whole situation.

“That’s right,” I said, answering a question Carmen asked me. “April seventeenth.” My logical mind handled the call on autopilot, but my senses were all wrapped up in what Sir was doing to me: stroking my cock with one hand, lubing my ass with the other. As a result, that ill-fated April morning felt as emotionally distant as a date in a history book. Had this been Sir’s plan all along—a sensual distraction from an otherwise painful call?

He slipped a finger inside me and I gasped in surprise, then threw my hand over the mic of my phone in embarrassment. A devilish smile crossed Sir’s face, and when I shot him an accusatory look, his smile only grew bigger. I was probably giving him too much credit.

“Yes, police were on the scene,” I said. Then Sir wriggled his finger inside me and I had to clamp my lips together to keep from making a sound. Then he withdrew his hand, and I continued quickly before he could interrupt again, “But it was a P.I. who gave me the family’s ultimatum.”

Sadness gnawed at the edge of my mind as the scene came back to me. The ungainly sprawl of Madam’s body, the knowledge that we would never share tea in the garden again. Before I sank deeper into dark memories, Sir grabbed my hips and rolled me onto my stomach. It took all my concentration to keep the phone to my ear and follow the conversation. I told Carmen how police on the scene had ruled the death an accidental overdose, but the family was suggesting foul play. All the while, Sir was teasing my backside.

I thought he should take this more seriously, but then Madam’s maxim sprang to mind: “We only go around once, kiddo.”If I only had one life to live, why pass up this chance at being playful with Sir? The pain would still be waiting for me later, and right now I wanted to escape.

He nudged the first of those ridiculous anal beads against my entrance and I held my breath, preparing to receive it. I’d never used a toy like that before, but it didn’t look too intimidating—the balls were gradated from smallest at the tip to largest near the flared end. The first bead slipped inside easily, followed by the second.

“Mm-hmm!”I answered one of Carmen’s questions, releasing a groan at the same time. Sir chuckled behind me.

I rested my cheek on the pillow and closed my eyes, focusing on the physical sensations, while Sir straddled the backs of my thighs. His fingers explored the contact point where the toy disappeared inside me, stroking slick fingers against my sensitized skin. My cock stiffened, pressing into the plush softness of the microfiber duvet. Sir pressed another bead against my opening, torturously slow, so I could feel every second as my body opened to accept it. It popped inside, and I shuddered with pleasure as my ass clenched around the new addition.

With my head turned to the side, I looked up at Sir from the corner of my eye. His cheeks were flushed pink with arousal, and he watched the slow insertion with focus. I had the vague feeling that I should be embarrassed, but I wasn’t. His fingers continued caressing my slippery rim between each bead. Was he getting off on touching me like that? Maybe picturing his cock disappearing into my body there? Or was he simply soothing my tensed muscles into a relaxed state, ready to take the next slightly larger bead?

“Oh, yeah?” I said, half in challenge to Sir, half in response to Carmen. She was telling me that my case wasn’t her realm of expertise, but a colleague of hers specialized in inheritance law and could probably help.

Carmen offered to dig up the phone number and give me a personal referral. Sir pressed another bead past my rim, causing me to stretch, then clench around it.

“Thank you!” I gasped to both of them.

Carmen put me on hold and a jazzy rendition of “The Girl from Ipanema”played, ensuring I would never hear the song the same way again.

Sir must have heard the music, too. “On hold again?” he asked, caressing me.

I nodded. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” I whispered in mock disapproval.

“What you asked,” he said. “Making my butler do naughty things butlers shouldn’t do.” He pressed another bead inside me without warning and I cried out. They were getting big; I was feeling full. I looked up at Sir, my eyes beseeching mercy, even as my body demanded more.

---