Read The Exchange for Free Online Page B

in their manner or in anything they had said since arriving confirmed that. Perhaps, I thought, they were just friends.
    I looked into Morgan’s eyes, combatively, as if to tell him to take his hands off me. But as he did, I felt that old surge of excitement as I realised the power that I had over someone. Morgan had kept it well hidden beneath a veneer of indifference during the meal, but now his eyes smouldered with desire. He wanted me so badly, it hurt. And nothing turned me on so much as when I knew that someone wanted me so much, they’d do almost anything.
    Not that I was into humiliating people. But if someone was into abasing themselves in their desire for me, I wouldn’t necessarily stop them – especially if I had a drink or two inside me.
    I stepped back into the toilet, yanking Morgan with me.
    ‘You want me?’ I breathed in his ear as he pulled the door closed behind him.
    He moaned with desire. I could feel the hard bulge of him in his linen trousers as we crushed together in the small space. It would be so easy just to take him out and slide his pulsating cock inside me and let him fuck me hard and fast against the wall. Then to take our places back at the dinner table as if nothing had happened, the only things that might arouse suspicion the post-orgasmic glow of our cheeks.
    But even knowing that to draw things out would risk alerting Tatiana and Kyle to what was going on, I couldn’t help but lead Morgan on. He couldn’t have me that easily, I told myself, as I inhaled his expensive cologne. It smelled of power and influence, and that confirmed my need to show him who held the reins right now.
    I cupped his cock and balls in my hand through his trousers, squeezed them firmly. ‘But what’s in it for me?’ I purred. ‘What can you give me?’
    His eyes caught fire.
Here
, they said,
is a challenge. Here is a woman who knows her power
. Clasping his hands to the sides of my thighs, he slid down to his knees, pressing his face into my mound through my clothes.
    ‘I can
smell
you,’ he groaned. ‘Even through all this. Fucking hell, you turn me on, you horny bitch. What it is with you French chicks?’
    ‘Oh, so you like French pussy?’ I chuckled. I started to inch up my dress with one hand. ‘Want to see more?’
    I saw one of his hands fall to his crotch and release his cock. He started pumping away with one hand, unable to control himself, as his other hand snaked between my legs. Pulling the crotch of my panties to one side, he slid two fingers between my lips and found me dripping wet.
    ‘Arrrrgh,’ he let out. ‘I can’t …’
    I grabbed his arm so he couldn’t jerk himself off any more. He was going to come too soon, and I didn’t want that. I pulled his head towards me, thrust my pussy at him. He dived right in, tongue lapping at my juices like a cat slurping cream.
    I was splayed back against the wall, the skirt of my dress bunched up around my waist. As Morgan’s tongue moved expertly over me, flickering in and out of my hole, I lowered one hand and fingered my clit. It didn’t take much – at once I felt my core deliquesce as my climax mounted, inexorably as a tide.
    As he felt it approach, Morgan tried to pull away, keen, no doubt, to enter me with his yearning cock. But I was intent on denying him. No one –
no one
– had me this easily. I pressed his head more firmly against me and came violently, with his tongue still inside me.
    Then, perfunctorily, I pulled my panties up and my dress down, smoothed my hair and left the toilet. My crotch was sodden, and my cheeks probably glowed, but otherwise I didn’t think Kyle and Tatiana would be alerted to what had just happened, especially if – as I expected he would – Morgan stayed in the toilet for a while. I figured he’d be wanking himself off now, in a bit of a daze, wondering what had hit him.
    I’d seen men like Morgan before, men with money and influence who get their head turned by a bit of rough. They think