A Story of Lust and Manipulation
"Honey" an erotic story by Anna Roy
As Ted walked by her office, Lea leaned out just the slightest little bit and said “Ted, come in here a moment, would you?”
Ted hesitated only the briefest second and then turned around, coming to the office door. Lea thought the hesitation was meant to show that he was her boss, even though she was pretty sure it was the other way around.
“I need your help,” Lea said, knowing exactly why Ted wouldn’t meet her eyes. She stood up from her desk and came around. “Come on to the set with me.”
“I was just…sure,” Ted said. He stepped back as Lea walked right at him. Lea was too fast and Ted wasn’t sure enough of himself and so she did what she’d planned to do, which was brush her breasts up against his chest and arm and make it seem like it was his fault. She’d thought, too, about grazing her hand against the zipper of his pants, maybe pressing it into his cock just a little, but had decided at the last minute not to do that.
Yet.
Even just thinking about it had made her nipples stand up firmly against the soft silk blouse she wore, and she knew that Ted had felt them when she’d walked by him, because she’d felt his chest press against her left nipple, press it back and twist it just a little, making her breasts ache for more.
In a second, she told herself, and walked down the hall. She didn’t hear Ted following and so a few steps ahead, she turned and looked back.
“Coming?” She asked, trying to load the word with extra meaning. She noticed that Ted had been looking down, at her ass, and smiled.
“Right. Yeah,” Ted said, and began walking. Lea walked faster, making sure she kept a few steps ahead of Ted and thereby making sure that he would keep watching her firm, round cheeks flexing through the skirt that she knew was pulled down just far enough to show the top of the golden-fabric thong she wore.
Stare at it, Ted, she thought. You do all day, anyway.
They reached the set, a mock kitchen set up to look like a Manhattan loft kitchen, but larger. The fake window out back showed a fake scene of New York, the scene that Lea knew was always over her shoulder when people watched Cooking For Hipsters. The scene that Ted, as a new and too-self-confident producer on the show stood to the left of, and, according to Lea’s assistant and a few other people on the show, stared at Lea’s butt the entire time.
“Except for when you bend over and are wearing a shirt where he can see your tits,” her assistant had said, this afternoon. “Then he looks down your shirt. You can totally see him doing it.”
Lea had looked down her own shirt, the low-cut blouse, at that, and had not been able to blame Ted. She’d always been kind of embarrassed, inside, that her own breasts turned her on, a little. She liked to look at them in the mirror, in a bra or out of it. 36-C breasts, round, perky and standing up, with cute small nipples that she liked to rub lotion into after her shower, watching the nipple get firmer and firmer until it seemed like it was made of rock, while she got wetter and wetter herself. Most showers ended up with Lea fingering herself until she came, sometimes quickly and businesslike, sometimes lingering and moaning to herself and gasping until she stood up, a little sweaty, and trying to avoid seeing her breasts in the mirror so it wouldn’t start all over.
She clicked on only one stage light, leaving the rest of the studio in shadow, bulky shapes of cameras and chairs and microphones, the dim overhead light illuminating only the marble countertop, the “window” and the cupboards. Even the refrigerator was off in the dusk. As she did that, she stopped abruptly and then, to make sure, she stepped back a half-pace.
Her plan worked: Ted bumped into her and she quickly and carefully rubbed the crack of her ass up, just once, not enough for him to be sure that she’d done it on purpose. She felt his hard-on, felt his cock pressing against the khakis he wore, straining, and she was gratified that it felt large, and hard, already.
With that, she turned around.
“What are you still doing here, Ted?”
He looked off to his right, then back at her, trying to be assertive. Every day, on the set, for the past three weeks, he’d been quiet-but-bossy, trying to play the role of a new guy fitting in, instead of the role of hotshot-producer-from-the-network, which is what he was. Lea had not liked him being sent in and had not liked that over the past five days he’d begun sending little emails and tips:
"Less sarcasm and talk, more doing," said one. "Remember, it’s a cooking show, not a talk show," was in the subject line.
"Mix up the ingredients you use because you always use the same things," said another one, with the subject line "Just a suggestion."
"Too one dimensional; need to show people another side of Lea," said the one today after filming the episode called Cooking For Friends You Don’t Want To Cook For, a show Lea had been particularly proud of. When she’d seen that one, she’d blown up and ranted for a half-hour about how this guy was coming in here and trying to change the show she’d done for two years with great success, and who did he think this was?
“I’ve got to show him who’s boss,” she’d said to her assistant.
Her assistant responded, “You can boss him. He’s totally infatuated with you.”
Then her assistant told Lea about Ted staring at her, and about the comments he’d made. Lea’s assistant had it on good authority that Ted had said, “I read in People that she hasn’t dated the whole time the show’s been on, so I’ll be the first to fuck Lea the Hipster Cook.”
He wouldn’t be the first, Lea had vowed to herself. Not only would he not be her first fuck, but he wouldn’t fuck her at all.
So she’d hatched her plan, and gotten her assistant to get Ted to stay late, until only the two of them were left in the offices.
And now here she was, on the set, staring at Ted and his barely-concealed erection and telling herself you’ve got to show him who’s boss, and also telling herself it’ll be better than frigging myself in the shower each morning.
“I’ve been getting your emails, Ted,” she said, turning around and looking up at his eyes, making him look down at her as she stepped forward. Her blouse had been unbuttoned one button too low and she knew he could see her bra, golden-colored like her thong and lacy, showing almost her entire breast through a thin grain of lace weave. She knew when she dressed that morning that the bra looked even better than being naked, because it made her breasts even rounder and made them shine.
Ted looked down, too far, and then back up. He didn’t blush, though, and she noted that. He was pretty sure of himself.
But she was the star of the show and she was not going to let him come in here and boss her around.
“I wanted to talk with you about them,” she went on. Ted met her eyes, and one of his feet stepped back, but then he stood his ground.
“Okay,” he said. She thought his voice sounded a little funny, but wasn’t sure. “What about them?”
“I like some of your ideas, Ted,” she said. Do it, she told herself, but she didn’t, yet. She wanted to make sure he got the point of this, that she was the boss, regardless of what any network flow chart said.
“Good,” he said, and kept on meeting her eyes. Lea leaned on the counter. In doing so, she made sure to lean a little too far, so that the bottom of her breasts rested on the cool countertop, and her legs stuck out, leaving her butt cheeks rounded and popped up a little. She looked over her shoulder at Ted and said:
“Like the one where you reminded me to remember what the camera sees of me,” she said, “Remember? The other day?”
“I remember,” Ted said. “You’ve got to…” and he paused as Lea wiggled her ass a little. He was looking at her face, but she knew he could see it, knew he had seen it because he paused. “Remember that it’s a TV show.”
“How do you know what the camera sees, Ted?” She asked. She didn’t ask it challengingly, but instead lowered her voice and made it a come-on, purring it a little.
“I…” but before he could say anything, Lea stood in front of him, right up against him. She was shorter than him, short enough that her stomach was against his erection, which she could easily feel. Her boobs mashed up against his own stomach, which was more solid than it looked in his business-casual clothes.
“You only know what you see, don’t you, Ted?”
He looked down at her and said “What does that mean?”
Lea said: “I know, Ted, what you spend your time looking at.” In one quick move, before she could lose her nerve, she pulled the zipper of his pants down, and his cock sprung out, hard, pushing into her hand. It felt hot and warm and heavy and solid and she wrapped her small, soft hands around it at the base, then pulled her hand slowly up until it rested on the tip, cupping the tip in her hand. She used the nail of her index finger to tease the tiny hole at the end, tracing around and around it.
Ted gulped and didn’t say anything. She saw his hands clench into fists.
“You spend your time looking at my ass, don’t you, Ted?” she asked him. Then she squeezed his member, just a little, feeling it pulse in her hands and feeling Ted stand up a little straighter. She did it again, just to tease him.
“But I’m talking too much, aren’t I, Ted?” she went on. “You don’t like all the talk. More doing. Isn’t that what you said?” She squeezed again, the skin getting hotter and the tip flickering in her hands involuntarily. She ran her hand down, again, to the base, and looked down.
“More doing, Ted?” She said, and leaned down. She flicked her tongue in and out, in and out, lightly touching the tip of his penis with the tip of her tongue, over and over, 10, 15, 20 times, until Ted moaned. She looked up, still grasping the base of his shaft. “Like that?” she asked.
Ted nodded and looked down at her. “Yes,” he said.
“Want me to finish?” Lea asked.
“God, do I,” Ted said.
“I will,” Lea said, and ran her hand back up to the tip. “But first, I want to go over the rest of your suggestions.”
Ted looked at her and struggled to talk. His cock, still in her hand, was throbbing. “Which ones?” he managed to ask.
Lea said: “Well, you told me to mix it up, use different ingredients, right? “So you wouldn’t want me to just use my mouth and hand, right?” Before he could answer, she leaned down again, pressing the tip now between her breasts, through the silk blouse, and rubbing Ted’s meat across her chest, on one nipple and then another and then squeezing it between her tits. She straightened up and saw that he still hadn’t gotten flushed and appeared to be more in control of himself now.
“Well, yes,” he said, mustering up a little more dignity than she’d wanted him to have. She rubbed her hand over the slightly-moist tip of his penis and said “Come with me.” She tugged him over to the cabinet, still holding his cock and still rubbing it slightly, and reached up into the cabinet. She pulled out of the cupboard a small jar of honey.
“See this?” she asked. He nodded and didn’t talk, probably because she was still slightly twisting her hand around the knob on the end of his dick, and he was trying not to get too excited by that. Putting the jar between her breasts, keeping one hand on Ted’s penis, she opened the jar with her other hand and then held it up. Without saying a word, she slowly dripped a little honey onto his cock, rubbing it with her hand, up and down, stroking him slowly and stickily, pressing her thumb into the head, spiraling her hand around.
“Like that?” she asked.
Ted didn’t respond and his eyes were closed. Lea had him, now, she knew. She could feel his cock ready to spurt cum out at any second. She held her hand perfectly still, the honey congealing under it and almost gluing her hand to it.
Then she let go, and Ted opened his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked. Lea put the honey jar down and quickly unbuttoned the last of her blouse, dropping it to the floor. She slithered her hips and her skirt fell off her rounded ass, dropping to the ground, leaving her in bra and thong. She clicked open the clasp of the bra and showed him her breasts, her nipples pointing directly at him, and she smiled. Then she hooked a thumb into her thong and dropped that off, too, showing her shaved, bare pussy to him.
“Want me to finish you, Ted?” she asked.
“You know I do,” he said, and she saw his cock stand up a little straighter. She picked up the honey jar and began dumping it on her breasts, the honey slowly dripped down onto one, then the other, pooling on top of them before running over the sides. It was warm and soft and sticky and she almost came when it ran, just a little, onto her nipples. It was heavy and moved slowly and she had dumped the whole jar before it even reached her belly.
Food for Thought by Mick Payton
“Know what I want, Ted?” she asked. The jar empty, she began slowly caressing the honey down over her body, moving it around the sensitive, tender sides and bottoms of her boobs onto her stomach, slowly dragging her fingers through it and pushing it down, onto her stomach and sides and hips, taking a moment or two to tweak her nipples through the soft honey while Ted stared. She looked down at his penis again, saw it fully erect and moving slightly up and down with Ted’s heartbeat.
Ted shook his head.
Lea continued spreading the honey, pushing it now down to her pussy lips and rubbing it into the edges of her cunt and thighs, pressing a finger against her clit, a finger coated with sticky honey so that she rubbed and it stuck just a little. The honey kept flowing and with her hands she rubbed it on her hips and then onto her butt cheeks, too, massaging it in there, one hand reaching in to spread a little right onto the crack of her ass.
“I want you to show me how to use these ingredients, Ted,” she said. She reached up, her hands gummy, and put them on his cheeks. She pulled him down until his head was right above her breasts. “I want you to clean me off,” she said, and she worked a finger into his mouth. “Taste the honey, Ted,” she said, “And me. You get all the honey off of me, and I’ll get it all off of you.”
Before she was even done speaking his mouth was on her left breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth and pulling on it, biting it slightly, cleaning it, tongue swirling around and around it, while his mouth moved more and more over the breast itself, his lips pressing into her skin and making her pussy feel as though it was glowing hot with energy. She almost moaned in spite of herself, but kept her lips closed until it passed, then said.
“That’s it, Ted. Make sure that you get it all off. All of it. Don’t forget my other breast, Ted,” and as she said that, she rubbed her right nipple, gathering honey off of it and forcing her fingers into his mouth as he began working on that one, licking it like it was an ice cream cone, tongue lapping at her nipple again and again. Lea couldn’t help herself. She came, feeling wetness spread throughout her and begin to flow out down past her lips onto her thighs. She needed something there and almost reached down herself, but at the last minute pushed Ted’s head lower, pushed so that his nose touched her clit and moved against it, causing her to gasp to herself and her stomach to tighten. He didn’t need any coaching as his tongue moved into her, pressed into her, fucking her with his tongue, in and out. She looked down as she leaned back against the counter, and saw Ted’s head bobbing up and down and forward and back as his tongue mashed into her and, while in there, swirled around and around, licking every edge of her lips and cunt, which were now more dripping with her own juices than with honey.
“That’s it, Ted. That’s it, keep it up,” she told him. She put her hand on the back of his head and pressed in and said “That’s it. Lick me. Fuck me with your tongue. Make me come on your face, Ted.”
Then she stopped and pulled his head up. He looked at her and she said: “There’s one more thing, Ted,” and when he didn’t answer, she pushed him back a little and turned around. Her ass pointed at him, and she put her hands on it, one on each cheek, pulling them a little apart and showing him her tiny pink hole, which she could feel the honey flowing down into.
“You said I need to show people another side of Lea,” she smirked, and wriggled, just a little. Ted hesitated, and Lea said “If you want me to taste any honey tonight, you’ll get going.” With that, Ted moved forward and she felt his hands over hers, pressing her hands onto her butt cheeks, and felt his breath on her tiny hole, felt his cheek, with its stubble, rub against her smooth, round bottom. She felt the honey and then felt his tongue swoop up between the cheeks, from the bottom of her cunt up to the top of her ass, and then back down, and then felt Ted’s tongue force its way into her asshole itself, wet and soft and hot, tickling her and teasing her as it went further and further in and her pussy widened up in sympathy, got wetter and wetter and she leaned over further. Ted’s hands gripped and pulled her cheeks apart as he left her ass, leaving her open and wanting more, until she felt his tongue again in there, as he pulled in and out and teased her. She felt her nipples ache as she got ready to cum and felt she couldn’t bear any more, as he pressed harder into her ass and she pushed back, humping his face, but then he suddenly rammed his fingers into her pussy, too, and she howled, put her hands on the countertop splayed out and cried at the top of her lungs as his tongue held perfectly rigid in her butt while his fingers tickled and probed and rubbed. She couldn’t help herself anymore and furiously rubbed her ass up and down and back, so quickly that she fell down on top of him and was, for just a second, sitting on his face and grinding into it.
As her orgasm subsided and she realized what had happened, she knelt up and turned around. Ted’s face, smeared with honey and her cum, stared up at her. She reached down and lightly touched his cock, still sticking up from the safety of his pants. He was still fully clothed.
“I’ll take care of you now,” she said, “But remember, Ted, when you make suggestions in the future: Lea comes first.”
Originally published February 2010