Footsteps grew louder in his ears, sharp clicks of heels pressing against the marbled stairs.
He withdrew his mental tendrils - anticipation causing him to grow restless. The moment Mrs. Olivera had agreed to meet him, the plan had succeeded.
Mrs. Olivera thought she was only here to satiate her needs his pheromones had amplified, to get back at her cheating husband, to enjoy herself; she would succeed of course, as Hec wished to lay with her as well. There was something about bedding a married woman in a position of power. It felt special somewhat. But for him, this instance was a cusp of history.
The footsteps grew into dull thud as walked on the carpeted flooring of the hallway.
Hec had left the door open.
The door was pushed open by a hand with white manicured nails, a pomegranate scent cloaking the room.
And there was, Mrs. Olivera, entering with authority in all her olive glory, her shape sculpted by Hec and Kaya through the year.
A low cut beige buttoned up shirt showing a pendant on her diamond necklace diving into the valley of her cleavage, lips an alluring red under her eyes he were were brown shielded by sunglasses. It was the pants thought that attracted his gaze; white, wrapped around toned and broad thighs like a second skin, the black thong she wore under visible to anyone that glanced, a thigh gap under her core where he could see through the wall across the hallway. They were the same pants she had wore when they had their little make out session in the bathroom, except see through.
An assortment of drinks, from wine to cold drinks, were set on his table. It wouldn't do good to open the fridge when guests were around lest they be startled by what they witnessed stored within.
She was before him, staring, her perfume enveloping every inch of olfactory senses, silent. Did she wish for him to make the first move? There was no chance he would allow that.
He wished to see her helpless, completely at his mercy.
With a thought, he released his pheromones, proliferating on the back of his palm and carried along the air through her nostrils. The amplification of the desires was subtle, quickened heartbeat, the increment of dopamine and estrogen, hormones that enhanced sexual arousal, enveloping the target's mind in an aroused haze that made it seem like the reaction was a natural phenomenon of being in his presence.
He smiled, motioning to the chair across the table. "Why don't you take a seat, Mrs. Olivera?" She would be the first to concede, he would make sure of that.
She nodded, raven hair tied to a simple bun. She sighed lightly, he noted. The effects were showing.
"How is your business going?" He asked.
"Good," she replied in barely a whisper. "Good," she said again, this time with conviction.
He smiled. "This isn't what you wore when you were interviewing the fundraisers, were you?" He teased. "That's certainly not an appropriate attire for such meetings." The woman carried herself with dignity, and he knew there was no way her pride would allow her to do such.
But, he wanted to hear that she had changed for him, her daughter's former boyfriend.
"No," she said, pursing her lips, squirming in her seat, the lobes of her ears going red. "I mean yes," she corrected. He liked watching her like this, so far removed from the beacon of hope, stern and heroic and assertive, most in Teres saw her as.
Her breaths grew erratic, each longer than the last. She suddenly got up, chest heaving, and took off her glasses, laugh lines hidden under a light brown foundation.
He had seen pictures of her in her younger days; the beauty certainly had carried over.
Getting up, he wrapped an arm around her waist, feeling the love handles that would require a more stringent routine to burn off, and pulling her closer, his erection pressing against her thighs.
"Are you fine, Mrs. Olivera?" He whispered.
She turned her body to him, breasts against his chest, erection against her pelvis. Standing at 6'2, her scalp reached his neck even with the high heels on.
A deep breath. "You're really going to take me here?" She snarked, meeting his gaze. "You are still as brutish as ever."
Maybe that would've struck a nerve had she not been so helpless in his arms.
"Is that so?" He mused, palm snaking down to rest on her left ass cheek, grabbing a handful and pulling her closer. "Sleeping with your daughters ex boyfriend while is your husband is in another city. That's pretty low."
She gasped, not breaking eye contract. "You would know about low," she said between gasps. She was strong woman, he had to admit.
One button, two, he unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her C cups under a lacy black bra. "You're a married woman," he said, "going to do something sinful with a man half your age. You should feel ashamed."
"Shut up," she whispered, hands resting on his abdomen, on her tip toes for him to kiss her.
He acquiesced. Palms clamped around her thick inner thighs, he lifted her up, legs wrapping around his waist, his fingers sneaking up on her core, trailing it, causing her lips to part for a gasp - his tongue invaded her mouth at the opportune moment.
She tasted of apples.
His palms molded her ass cheeks any how he desired and she didn't complain.
"Take your tits out," he commanded.
With a frenzied swipe, her breasts jiggled free, brown nipples dotting them. He leaned forward, wrapping his lips around her nubs, and sucking, circling his tongue around it, evoking moans and gasps from the older woman, begging for him to wait and go slower. The pheromones made everything sensitive.
He thought a navel piercing would look great on her. It did on every hot woman.
The feel of her ass, taut yet meaty, felt incredible on his fingers, her whimpers and groans were music to his ears. "Hold on tight," he instructed. "I'm going to try something."
Her arms coiled tighter around his neck. Letting his arms drop, she dropped a little low, her crotch resting on his erection, hot even through the pants. Her eyes widened in shock, and Hec smiled knowingly.
Feeling around, he found her zipper, and pulled it down. A finger, two rubbed against her core, leather the material, wetness about the edges of the fabric digging into her lower lips. "How about we drop all this and start talking business?" Hec suggested, fingers ceasing action.
She didn't answer, her scalp pressing against his chest as she hid her face, and gyrated her hips, trembling each time his finger tips made contact with her.
He pulled his fingers away. "You need to tell me what you want," he said. "Silence won't aid you."
"Yes," she whispered.
"Louder."
"Yes! I want it!" She barked, raising her head to glare at him. "Just...give it to me."
"As you wish." Fishing around, he unbuttoned her pants at her waist, grabbed the seams and peeled it down slowly, having to apply a little more force when they refused to budge at intervals, face again buried in embarrassment at having to wiggle her hips to assist him.
The pants coiled around her ankles, a slightly musky and alluring smell gracing his nose.
Though Hec appreciated breasts and got their charm, ample buttocks seem to have a gravity of their own that attracted him like a bee to honey.
"How about you return the favor?" He said, carrying her by the ass, and thrusting his hip.
Reaching downwards, she pulled his zipper down, hefting the dragon out of his hair with her palm, gulping at the sight.
In his position, Hec couldn't see her booty bounce and giggle on him, and that wouldn't do. There were no cameras in his office, but there were plenty downstairs in the gym.
He didn't ask for her opinion. She yelped when he started moving and exited his office, protesting and looking horrified at the sight of the CCTV cameras capturing them.
"The cameras are off for now, woman," he lied. He would have Kaya get rid of the footage. She was going to have a field day.
Mrs. Olivera settled down in his arms, no longer squirming.
A bright idea flashed Hec's mind.
"Hey! Not h-" He didn't give her time to finish, pushing the underwear away from her core and plunging it into the depths of her dark caverns.
It was a bad decision – the immense pleasure transmitted into his nerves, causing him to tremble, as lust threatened to cloud reason. Yet, he controlled it. He had vented today, twice, and that gave him thorough control over himself.
He descended the stairs, her weight pressing down on him, moaning fleeing her lips with each step taken, her insides warm and snug coiling about his shaft.
When he reached the gym, she was spamming against him, liquid gushing out of her core and staining the floors. Asking Kaya to clean again wasn't an option.
His gait wide, he made sure not to focus on the mirror, and still holding her, sat on a bench, the image of her back and dimpled buttocks reflecting.
He took a deep breath and started moving.
A slow pace initially to prepare her, just to see his rod go in and out of her puffy lips, head poking at barriers he couldn't push past within her caverns.
He would have to go easy on her.
They had business to talk after all.