Julia's Second Collection Read online

  Julia’s Second Collection

  By: Bridy McAvoy

  ISBN: 978-0-908325-76-4

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © Jun 2017-Mar2018, Bridy McAvoy

  Cover Art Copyright © Dec 2017- Mar 2018, Brightling Spur

  Bluewood Publishing Ltd

  Christchurch, 8441, New Zealand

  www.bluewoodpublishing.com

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Bluewood Publishing Ltd.

  Dedication

  To everyone who helped me write this. Especially my husband who encouraged me to explore my fantasies in print.

  Julia’s Night

  The e-mail from Max was short and to the point.

  How does burger, fries, beer and dancing sound to you? I just don’t feel like cooking. I want to have fun till one and then make luurve till three. M XX

  Julia gave a little shiver then looked up guiltily to see if anyone was watching. Normally, neither of them would think about going out on a Wednesday night, but Max was taking time he was owed after his last ten day trip to Africa. She, on the other hand, had been working overtime all week, and Simon had insisted she took her TOIL days this Thursday and Friday.

  Wednesday night was therefore almost like a Friday night, so she had no hesitation in answering straight back.

  Only till three? You slacker. Can’t wait, sounds a great idea. J xxx XXX xxx XXX xxx

  She hoped nobody down in IT was reading her e-mails and getting the wrong impression, but both she and Max were careful not to get too explicit or reveal anything incriminating about their five-year marriage on a corporate e-mail server. He was using his Gmail account at home, but hers was her work in-box.

  His reply was almost instantaneous.

  In that case, I’ll make it four, but you’ll have to dress extra sexy to keep me going. Luv M xxx

  She gave another shudder. His wording was deliberate. Extra sexy was their private code that he was going to be in charge and pick out what she wore tonight. Knowing her husband, it would live up to its name. Smiling, she cleared the e-mail messages from her screen and got back to work. She still had a lot to do before she could get home, especially as she needed to brief Karen to cover for her for the next two days.

  * * * *

  She was smiling as she walked through the front door only to stop in her tracks. Max was waiting just inside the door, kneeling on the floor. Before she could say anything, let alone do anything other than let the door swing closed behind her, he’d leaned forward, wrapped his arms around the back of her thighs and pulled her close to him.

  “Max!”

  He just chuckled and buried his head right in her crotch, his face pressing the material of her suit skirt between her legs. Max sniffed theatrically as he nuzzled her loins then sighed out loud. As he tilted his head back he was grinning. “There’s nothing I like more than the smell of a hot pussy before teatime.”

  She gasped, fighting to stay on her feet as he started scrabbling at her skirt, pushing it up her legs.

  “Max, stop it! Please.”

  He looked up at her again. “Why? I’m carrying out an experiment.”

  “What experiment?”

  “I want to see if my wife can go from zero to a hundred and cum inside five minutes, and since the clock is ticking, you’re wasting time.”

  Her skirt was now above her waist and, as he lowered his gaze, she knew he could see her white panties through her beige tights, the only things now protecting her pussy from whatever he intended to do. Once more, he nuzzled in close as his hands reached up under the back of the skirt, finding the waistband of her tights.

  “Max, I’m all sweaty from working all day.” Even to herself her voice seemed to have a quiver in it; a hint of uncertainty. Her husband didn’t reply, simply pushed his nose up against her pussy and inhaled deeply. The sound brought a blush to her face and, dropping her purse onto the hall table, she braced herself against the wall behind him. He was determined and obviously not going to stop.

  She could feel her pantyhose being yanked down over her hips, her panties travelling with them. She checked back over her shoulder to make sure the door had closed and gave a yelp when she realized it hadn’t. It must have swung closed, bounced and opened again.

  “Max, the door.”

  “Fuck the door!”

  “No, Max, the door is open.” Frantically, she pushed herself upright again and, reaching across, slammed the door shut. Hearing the lock engage, she gave a sigh of relief.

  In the meantime, Max hadn’t stopped his deliberate but frenzied assault on her lower body. Her panties and pantyhose were tangled like a rope around her knees. Her skirt was pulled up around her waist. As she turned fully back toward him, his face pressed against her now bare pussy slit. His nose nestled against the top of her slit while further down his tongue extended and licked at her outer lips.

  She could do nothing other than moan and try to shuffle her legs further apart, hobbled as she was by the pantyhose. Her moans became louder as heat centered between her legs. His hands started to work on her buttocks, kneading her ass, pulling her onto his face. Max was leaving her to manage her balance and she pressed both hands against the wall behind him, leaning over him as her legs started to tremble. She didn’t need the slurping noises he was making to know she was wet. Everything about the situation told her that, especially the heat in her loins that continued to build. One hand left her butt and moved around to join his tongue working on her. He pushed two fingers into her, turning them as they went in, then straightening them again as they pulled out. His tongue moved higher, finding and then circling her clit, bathing it in a mixture of his saliva and her juices.

  His ministrations and manipulation of her pussy was driving her over the edge at a phenomenal speed. Whether it was the surprise or just the eroticism of his actions, she lost control as her body stiffened and her legs started to buckle.

  “Fuck! I’m cumming.”

  She started to shake and almost collapsed on top of him, but his hands shot to her waist, holding her up as she leaned heavily against the wall.

  Once the climax was over, she straightened and staggered backward, still hobbled by her own underwear, leaning against the inside of the front door. Max sprawled on the floor and grinned at her, his face still smeared with her juices.

  “I call that four and a half minutes.”

  “You were timing it? I thought you were joking.”

  He held up his chronograph wristwatch to show her the timer.

  “You bastard!”

  “You’re calling me names after I just gave you your fastest orgasm ever? Fine thanks, that is.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled weakly. It had been a nice surprise welcome home. “If you think you’re going to get the favor returned, you’re out of luck. I needed a shower before, and I really need one now.”

  “Good. I’ll wash your back.”

  She glowered at him, knowing exactly what he meant. “No, I think I’ll shower on my own. You need to keep your strength up, remember?”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll get the coffee on. Plenty of time, anyway, if you’d rather have a bath. We won’t be going out for at least a couple of hours.”

  She nodded. A bath sounded like a great idea.

  “Right. Bath it is. You go an
d soak, and I’ll bring your coffee up.”

  She frowned at him again. “As long as the only thing you leave in the bathroom is the coffee.”

  “Why, what else could I be thinking of?”

  “Your dick, probably.”

  He smiled. “Not detachable.”

  “You know what I meant. Are you going to help me so I can at least walk up the stairs?” She motioned toward her impromptu hobble.

  Max shook his head. “Nope. You always tell me a lady should never pull her panties down in the presence of a gentleman, but I’m telling you she should never ask him to pull them back up again.” He walked off whistling, heading toward the kitchen.

  Julia impulsively stuck her tongue out in the general direction of his back and bent at the waist, trying to sort out her disheveled clothing. It had certainly been an explosive start to a Wednesday night.

  * * * *

  Having piled her hair onto the top of her head to keep it dry, she was just stepping into the bath when Max opened the door carrying a mug of coffee. Julia had one foot in and one foot still outside, straddling the side of the bath. She shivered as her husband’s gaze passed up and down the length of her exposed naked body.

  “You can join me, darling.”

  He shook his head. “No, honey. I want you hot to trot all night.”

  She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You mean you want me begging for it by the end of the night?”

  “Something like that.”

  Julia stepped into the bath and sank to her knees in the bubbly warm water. Sitting back, she lifted her arms above her head, arching her back as she stretched, making her breasts push out toward him.

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “I’m not joining you in the bath. Besides…”

  “Besides what?”

  “I’ve still got to select your outfit for this evening.”

  “You’re holding me to that, even though I didn’t actually agree to it?”

  “You bet I am.”

  His voice had dropped, taking on a husky aroused tone, and as she shuddered the water in the bath sloshed audibly from side to side. Max grinned and, without another word, turned on his heel and left the room. She could hear him moving around in the bedroom, and knew he was probably going through her stuff looking for the clothing he wanted her to wear. She knew him well enough to know he’d already made his decisions, working to a mental image he’d have spent the afternoon forming—it was just finding the items among the clothes in her wardrobes and drawers. Sinking into the water, she closed her eyes and relaxed.

  The coffee was almost cold before she remembered to drink it, and by then the bath water was starting to cool. Rather than get orange peel skin, she climbed from the bath and wrapped herself in a towel. At least she’d managed to keep her hair dry; that was a bonus. It took ages to deal with her mass of unruly red curls if she got it wet and didn’t use a conditioner. Padding through into the bedroom, she found it empty.

  Max had gone back downstairs to leave her in peace to get ready. But not before the threatened outfit had been laid out on the bed. As she looked at the clothing he’d chosen for her to wear, she couldn’t suppress a gasp. Max wanted her to look seriously sexy tonight, and if she wore what he’d picked, she would do.

  The black blouse was see-through, not just translucent—see-through. At least he’d teamed it with a black bra, but that was lacy and she wasn’t sure the two layers of black would conceal her nipples if anyone looked. In a packed bar and club, they’d look. In a bar and club not so busy mid-week, they’d have more time and space to look.

  He’d teamed the blouse with a denim skirt, her shortest mini-skirt, the one with the four large white buttons up the front to hold it together. She knew from experience the infrared component of the lighting would make those buttons stand out as she danced. Since the buttonholes were trimmed with white stitching which would also stand out, anyone watching her in the club would be able to see if any of the buttons were undone. Knowing Max, she doubted they’d all stay done up!

  At least he’d matched a pair of black boy-short style panties with the bra. She’d expected him to go the thong route. He’d left her bare legged too—there was no way she could wear stockings with that skirt. Her three inch heels in patent black were nothing less than CFM’s as far as she was concerned. Come Fuck Me shoes were Max’s go-to choice if he had any say in her footwear. The combination would rock most guys’ worlds on a date—but they’d been married for five years! If anything, it seemed a bit preppy, a bit too desperate from her perspective, but it wasn’t outrageous—well, not outrageous enough for her to object. Mentally giving in, she headed for her dressing table to do her makeup to complement his choices.

  * * * *

  “Another beer?”

  Julia shook her head. She’d already had three while they’d lingered over their food. “Let’s wait until we get into the club—assuming you still want to go next door?” She chuckled. “If we go home now, I’ll let you quit at one, not four a.m.”

  Max grinned at her and dropped his hand to her bare knee. He gave the flesh a squeeze and slid his hand a little higher, but still nowhere near the hem of her skirt. He squeezed her leg again and began to gently rub the soft skin of her thigh. “I have to get you dancing, otherwise you’ll have enough energy to put me in hospital. If I don’t get it danced out of you, I won’t keep up.”

  For a moment, she wondered if he was being serious, then glancing across at his smiling face, she could see he was pulling her leg—quite literally as his hand continued to warm up the flesh of her thigh, working his way closer and closer to the hem of her mini-skirt.

  “Stop doing that. I’m enough of a spectacle as it is.”

  “Why? Have people been looking at you?”

  She shuddered. She’d noticed several glances, and quite a few stares, as men took in her provocative style of dress. At least two had moved closer to get a better look at her chest, exposed as it was under the translucent black blouse and the highly visible black lace bra. Julia knew Max had noticed them too. In fact, his hand on her knee was probably his response, his civilized equivalent to a caveman gripping her hair and dragging her deeper into the darkness. She shivered again, unable to quench that image.

  “As if you haven’t noticed. I know that’s why your hand is on my leg.”

  He laughed. “You want to move through to the club?”

  They could both hear the muted music from the club next door, occasionally louder as someone walked through the connecting doorway at the far end of the bar.

  “No, I don’t think they’ll be busy enough yet. I hate being one half of the only couple dancing—makes me feel like I’m on display.”

  “In that top you are on display, baby.”

  His hand left her leg but didn’t rise from her lap, moving to play with the bottom button on her skirt.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “As if you don’t know. If we’re going to dance, honey, then you need some freedom of movement down there.” Without giving her time to protest, he flicked the button undone. She gave him a stern look but, removing his hand, he picked up his bottle of beer as if he hadn’t just made sure his wife would be exposing more flesh.

  She frowned at him but couldn’t help chuckling—sometimes Max was so transparent. He wanted men to look at her tonight, but he was going to be the one holding her on the dance floor, holding her tight, his fingertips roaming over her skin, touching her at will. She shivered again. He’d said he’d made sure she came before they left the house precisely because it would keep her on edge. The low sexual heat would keep her arousal level high enough to let him take more liberties than she usually allowed.

  She changed her mind. It would be nice to dance, and garner a few more admiring glances and no doubt some undressing with their eyes stares. “Come on. Let’s go dance, but I’m going to need to pay a visit first—too much beer.”

  * * * *


  The club wasn’t crowded and there were one or two couples dancing, as well as one relatively noisy group of four young women. She sighed. It looked like she was the oldest woman in the room.

  “Dance?”

  She smiled over her shoulder back at her husband. “I think my nerve just failed. They’re all younger than me.”

  “But you’re the prettiest by far. They’re just scrawny chicks.”

  “Old school compliments and comparisons will get you whatever you want, later, but I’ll take a beer for now.”

  Because it wasn’t too busy, they managed to grab a quiet table toward the back of the club, away from the dance floor. Since it was quite a dark corner, especially after the bright lights of the bar, she wasn’t surprised when Max’s hand found her leg again. She scooted her chair a little closer to him and allowed her knees to part a couple of inches, so he could slide his hand from the top down to the warmer, more sensitive flesh of the inside of her thigh. Max took the invitation and was soon gently massaging her inner thigh just where the hem of her skirt covered her legs. His sure touch sent shivers of arousal through her entire body and she could see the way Max was staring at her chest, his gaze drawn by the way her nipples had hardened under her bra and were pushing visible indentations into her clothing. Visible, despite the dense gloom surrounding them.

  “You’d better stop that.”

  “Why?”

  “If you don’t, I might push the table away and drop to my knees and suck you as hard as you licked me earlier. You won’t last five minutes, buster. I doubt you’d last three.”

  “Let me set my stopwatch and I’m all yours.”

  She glared at him, not expecting him to call her bluff. They both knew she wouldn’t do that. It was a sure fire way to get thrown out and barred, if not arrested.

  He did, however, stop the gentle circling movements that had been driving her to distraction, just letting his hand lie there between her legs. She closed her legs, pressing her thighs together to trap his hand, just to show she was happy with it being there. She could see the whites of his teeth as he smiled.