Chapter 39
Lydia POV
"You look a little pale today, a little low on
amino acids," she said.
"Excuse me..." She stood, and I heard the
loud creak of her zipper ripping down.
What the fuck is she doing?
"Come get your protein intake."
*********
I was a bit hesitant to get in the elevator with Zayn,
given what happened last time. I held onto the bar, just in case she tried
anything. Her body was slightly turned, and she had her hands stuffed in her
slacks pockets as usual.
"How was work? You look a little pale."
I felt my face stupidly, as if I could feel what pale
meant. But I didn't feel pale or sick. I thought the cold weather might change
my looks. I just didn't know it would happen so soon. This meant I'd have to
use more blush on my cheeks and cut back on foundation.
So far, I'd gotten the hang of makeup. I'd been
missing out my whole life.
"Work was boring," I remembered to answer.
"How's work for you?"
"Interesting now," she said with a smile.
"You're happy to see me? As you should." I teased. A part of me
wasn't bluffing.
"Well, you're not the dull girl you were months
ago, so I suppose I should be happy to see you."
I smirked, just as she turned fully to me. The door
chimed open, and she sighed. I wondered what she was going to do. The door
opening made me forget what I was going to say. Maybe I'd remember another
time.
We entered the office, and I took a seat.
"Are you taking me home tonight? To your place, I
mean?" I'd gotten comfortable asking that question.
"I can only bring you home. I have work
tonight."
"Aren't I your last session of the day?"
"Yes, but I have extra work and files to go over.
Plenty, exactly."
I could see how dragged out it would be for her.
"I could help," I offered. I hated the fact that I'd probably have to
stay with Bishop. And do what? I'd probably just tell him not to pester me
about Zayn.
"You know that's not what's going to
happen," she said.
I shrugged. "What do you think will happen?"
"I think it will have something to do with my
head between your legs," she said, as she sat how she usually did, with
the notebook on her crossed legs.
"How are you feeling, Lydia?"
"I'm feeling great. Everything's been going
great," I said. "I'm not lying if that's what you think."
She shook her head. "No, you're not lying. You do
look a little pale." She said it for the second time. Third time. She said
it when she picked me up from work. I suddenly remembered what I wanted to ask.
"Why did you pick me up? A client, at that."
"For your sessions, and I wanted to see
you."
"See me on what terms? Client? Or just
enthusiastic to see me."
"I wouldn't use the word enthusiastic. But I
wanted to see my favorite client."
When did I become her favorite client? I felt
something bubble inside me. Her eyes studied my face."
"I'm flattered," I said shyly.
"When have you last spoken with Bishop?"
I knew I couldn't lie. She'd see right through it like
a translucent object. I sighed and decided to play the depressed act. "He
always comes around, and I always push him away."
"Get a restraining order?" she offered
quickly. "Get him put in jail. Let him stay far away from you?"
"Uh?"
"What?"
"Is that necessary?" I asked.
She nodded as an answer. "Now I see why you're so
pale."
"You do?"
"You look a little low on protein. Very low on
amino acids," she said.
"Excuse me..." She stood, and I heard the
loud creak of her zipper ripping down. I bit my lip with a small smirk. Was she
excusing the sex-in-the-office act? I really was her favorite client.
"Come get your protein intake," she said. By
the time she was by my side, her cock was out of the zipper of her pants, and
my mouth was open to take it in.
I turned my body toward her, craning my neck. She held
her cock in hand and rested it on my bottom lip.
"Maybe I do need a little protein," I
whispered, as my tongue brushed over the tip. She pushed her cock deeper
slowly. I grasped the length and began to rub it up and down.
"Then show me how much you want it, Lydia."
Her lust-filled eyes looked down at me. A slurping sound echoed when my mouth
produced more saliva than I could hold, and it dripped down the shaft. I
hurriedly licked it up before it reached her hidden balls.
I slid my tongue back up and sucked hard on the tip.
"Yes, baby, just like that..." Her excited grunt came. She gently
cradled my face, her thumb softly caressing under my chin.
"You're such a good girl."
I'll never get used to her calling me that. It always
does something to me—something like tossing my bags to the side and dropping to
my knees to get her cum in my mouth. I sucked desperately. I sucked
relentlessly. I sucked until my jaw felt like it might dislocate. I sucked
until her fingers moved from my cheeks to the sides of my head, helping bob my
head at a fast pace.
I gagged and moaned, enjoying it too. I would always
love sucking her cock, just to hear "You're such a good girl."
I'll suck just to hear her satisfied moans and groans,
and I'll suck just for her to grip a random part of my head—just as she did
now—and give a few firm thrusts before her cum splashed in the back of my
throat.
"Fuck, Lydia," she panted. "What a
pretty, useful mouth you have."
Her body staggered back and forth, and her cock
throbbed and jerked in my mouth. I could feel the fresh load of sweet cream
traveling down my throat. I gulped it down. My head looked up at her. She
smiled tiredly.
"Get on the desk and spread your legs."
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