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  Title Page

  SARAH’S SEXPLOITS: ALL THE COLOURS OF THE RAINBOW

  Sarah’s Relationship With Sexy Frenchman Emil Goes From Strength To Strength As Her Involvement With Scott Comes To A Bitter End.

  By

  K T Red

  Publisher Information

  Sarah’s Sexploits: All the Colours of the Rainbow

  Published in 2012 by Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © K T Red 2012

  The right of K T Red to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Preface

  Just when I think I know what - or rather who - I want, life throws me a curveball! It’s like I said before; having one man in your life who turns you inside out, upside down and back to front is such a blessing. Me - I’ve got two.

  One knows about the other but the other doesn’t know about the other one - if you follow me. And what makes it even more complicated is that we all work at the same place! And one’s my boss and he’s also the other one’s boss as well. It makes my head spin.

  Emil - my very handsome boss - has just taken me to London for the weekend. Apart from a little bit of unpleasantness with an old business rival of his, it was just the most incredible time. It was the first time we slept together, even though we didn’t actually get much sleep. He is perhaps the most unselfish and generous lover I’ve ever had but I would prefer him not to count how many orgasms he gives me! I have to admit I lost count but let me tell you something, it beats the hell out of counting sheep!

  But it isn’t just the sex with Emil. Don’t get me wrong, the sex is blissful but it’s a lot more than that. Even when he joins in with my bad girl games, he makes me feel like no other man ever has. He makes me feel like I’m someone special. He makes me feel like I matter to him - not just as someone he’s having sex with. He makes me feel like a lady. He calls me Peach and he’s even introduced me to his parents!

  Scott - the other one - has been a bit elusive over the past few weeks since our afternoon together. I must admit I’m a bit relieved. He’s an absolute animal between the sheets but any time we get together is stolen time, stolen from his wife and children. Despite the passion I feel when we’re together, I know we have a limited shelf life and that the right thing to do - for both of us - would be to finish it sooner rather than later.

  I was going to end it last time but once he got his cock in me, I couldn’t. It’s just that he makes me feel like I haven’t done for a long time and the last person who triggered all-consuming passion like that also did me a lot of harm. It took me a long time to put my life back together when He was no longer part of it. And I’ve no intention of putting myself through that again. But he’s a fucking good lay!

  Emil knows about Scott but Scott doesn’t know about Emil. I don’t compare them because I wouldn’t know where to start. It would be like trying to compare a T-bone steak with the best French cuisine. You just can’t because there is no comparison.

  Where do I go from here though? I can’t have them both. It’s too much even for me to cope with - and I can shag for Britain! Emil is becoming more important to me with every passing day in spite of our different backgrounds. But does that really matter - the class thing? Scott isn’t free to be mine and I won’t lure a man away from his children. So I guess I’ve answered my own question.

  Oh God - life would be so much easier if I was frigid.

  But it would be much less fun!

  Chapter One

  I’m so very proud to be Welsh. I love my country and all the crazy people in it. Every St David’s Day, I get a rush of patriotic emotions along with a surge of horny homes. However, today is the fourteenth day of July. It’s Bastille Day. So I thought that my (my?) handsome and Gallic Emil might feel like a special treat.

  I know what time his miserable old dragon of a secretary goes for her lunch. You could set your clock by her. Out of the door by one and back at two. Every single day. I’ve often wondered where she goes. Perhaps she dashes home for a quickie. Dear God in heaven, what a thought!

  I snuck into his office first thing and left him a little clue. I can’t believe he hasn’t changed his security code after I finagled it for very immoral purposes. I wonder if she suspects anything? Personal secretaries to tend to be privy to an awful lot of personal information about their bosses. I wonder if he’s ever...with her.........no, no! Stop thinking such disgusting thoughts!

  There she goes. Across the car park and away. Now’s my chance. Knocking on his door, I slide myself in when he gives me the all clear. Every time I see him, he takes my breath away. Such a handsome man. I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure that I’m not dreaming when I realise that he genuinely does want to be with me.

  He’s smiling, those gorgeous blue eyes twinkling at me. “What are you doing here, Peach?” He’s called me that ever since London. I left a strategically placed peach on his desk with a Post-it and a smiley face.

  “I thought I’d just pop in and see you.” I lock the door.

  He picks up the peach and smiles, raising his eyebrows. “And what are you hiding behind your back?”

  I do his Gallic shrug. “Just this.” I quickly put the beret on my head and dramatically adjust it to a jaunty angle. “Happy Bastille Day, Emil.” I la-la my way through the French national anthem as I skip my way around his office in a brand new wrap-around dress in my favourite red and high heels as he sits at his desk, smiling broadly.

  I wiggle my way over to him and sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a big kiss. “Thank you, my peach.” One arm is around my waist, the other one stroking my legs.

  Placing the beret on his head, I whisper in his ear. “Voulez-vous coucher avec mois, Monsieur Emil?” I fidget on his lap and feel his body answer for him. I raise my hand to cover my mouth, gasping and putting on a ridiculous French accent. “Oh, Monsieur. You grow so big and hard for your little Sarah!”

  “Oh, my darling girl. As far as you are concerned, I will always be big and hard!” He smiles, putting the beret back on my head and kissing me. “And yes, I would very much like to coucher avec tu.”

  Grabbing hold of his tie and wiggling it at him, I lick my lips. “Are you doing anything this evening, Monsieur Emil?”

  Emil eases the top of my dress apart, exposing my breasts encased in peach silk. I run my fingers through his hair as his lips brush my flesh - soft, tender kisses that make me tingle all over. “Oh yes, my beautiful peach. I think I will be very busy this evening. And all night. And also at the break of dawn if I have any energy left.” I gasp as he slips his hands inside my bra and cups my breasts. “And if you weren’t supposed to be finishing the quarterly accounts, I would happily spend the rest of the afternoon inside you!”

  I shiver in lust as the combination of his mouth on my skin, his hands caressing me and his promise of passion to come get me hot. I let out a deep groan of want as he cranks up the heat, his mouth on my breasts, licking and sucking. God, he’s so good with his mouth! As I feel his tongue swirling over me, I
take a deep breath, wishing it was between my legs.

  “Hold that thought, Peach.” I can feel him smiling, his face buried in my cleavage.

  “How the hell do you always know what I’m thinking?” I rest my hand on his bulge, stroking him, making him groan into my flesh.

  “I have two clues, my love.”

  I stroke some more, he moans some more. “And what would they be?” Jesus, I’m getting rather warm.

  “Clue one - the heat of your sex is burning my lap.” I throw my head back, laughing loudly and dislodging the beret. Emil raises his head and kisses me passionately. “And clue two - I am thinking it also!”

  “Emil!” I squeal as he scoops me off his lap and puts me on his desk. He massages my breasts as I recline slightly, parting my legs and wrapping them around his waist. The skirt of my dress falls aside and I’m aching for him to tear my knickers off and plunge inside me.

  “Well, my pretty peach. That makes a pleasant change!” Emil smirks as his fingers brush my knickers - which are more than a little damp.

  “What does?”

  “You’re wearing panties!” He kisses me before I can object. “Peach silk. Nice.” Another kiss and another quick touch. “Such a juicy peach you are.”

  I sigh and groan. “It’s you that always makes me so juicy!” Pulling him closer to me with my legs, I lie back on his desk. “How about a quickie?” I bite my bottom lip and jiggle my eyebrows.

  Emil tuts and slaps my thigh, smiling. “Shame on you, child! I do not do quickies - as you well know.”

  I smile back, knowing he’s talking about our wonderful night in London. I’ve had many lovers, more than I can remember, many of them nameless. None of them have made love to me the way Emil did. I’ve had a lot of sex but I truly believe that our weekend in that hotel room was the first time that I’ve ever made love, that any man had made love to me rather than just fucked me.

  I reach down, trying to get my hands on his trousers -only to have Emil slap my hand away, tutting again. “I can see that I am going to have to do something to take the edge off that ravenous appetite of yours.”

  Chapter Two

  My eyes light up as he undoes his belt and slowly pulls his zip down. I sigh lustily as he reaches in and frees himself, that long, thick cock standing proud before me. His hands reach up and untie the belt of my dress and push it aside. I love his every touch as his hands slide over my flesh. I place my hand on his as he lowers them to remove my pants. “I’ve got a special surprise in there for you.”

  He raises his eyebrows as his fingers play with the edge of the peach silk. “You do?”

  “I do.”

  “And what would that be, you naughty little bundle of mischief?” His blue eyes shine so very bright as he looks over every inch of me.

  “Why don’t you take a look?”

  He lifts the top of my pants and peeps in, his face a picture when he sees his surprise. “Oh, Peach!” He’s got a smile on his face that lights up the whole room and makes my stomach flip. “You are quite simply......magnifique!”

  “You like?” I can’t take my eyes off his face as he looks at my sex, taking in his gift.

  He’s still smiling, shaking his head. “Ah, oui. I like it very much. I think you are maybe slightly mad but you are my type of slightly mad.”

  For the past week or so I’ve been growing my bush. You should have seen the beautician’s face when I told her to dye it like the French flag! It was worth every single second of itchy regrowth just to see the look on his face! I reach for him and this time he doesn’t move, moaning as I take him in my hand and stroke. “So, Monsieur Managing Director, how about storming Sarah’s Bastille?”

  I release him as he pulls my knickers down, letting them fall to the floor. He strokes the edges of my trimmed and colourful triangle, making me tremble. “Oh, Sarah.” His voice is quiet as he runs his thumbs over my flag. “The red, white and blue has never looked more beautiful.” Taking hold of his cock, he positions himself at my entrance, pausing for a split second before pushing into me in one long, smooth thrust. As I arch my back, moaning, loving the pressure of his cock inside me, he leans over me. “And tonight, my Sarah, I will show you my full appreciation - many times over.”

  He pulls back and then slams back in - hard! I moan and gasp, throwing my hands over my head as he thrusts long and hard. Between gasps, I somehow manage to get a few words out. “I appreciate what you’re showing me now, Emil.” He thrusts hard. “Very much!”

  His hands grip my thighs, raising them as he drives himself deep and hard. “Oh, Peach. You make me so furious with desire!” I feel my sex, so swollen and wet, being pounded as he powers his huge, hard cock into me over and over and over. “You and your sex are making a prisoner of me.” Leaning over me, he kisses me hard, pressing against my clit. I groan my orgasm into his mouth as he grinds and my sex throbs, gripping his cock.

  I moan as he leans back up and resumes his storming. “Oh, Emil. You wonderful, passionate, patriotic Frenchman you!” He smiles, watching as he slides in and out of my sex, making fast, furious love to his own personal, living, breathing Tricolour. His fingers brush my coloured hair as he thrusts harder and quicker. I feel another knot of tension deep inside as he plunges long and smooth, his breathing quickening. I moan and gasp as I writhe on his desk, his eyes now burning into mine.

  I groan as he presses a thumb against my clit, his thrusts shallow and his breathing ragged. He presses hard against me, grinding orgasm after orgasm from me. Giving one final long, hard thrust, Emil throws his head back, groaning and shuddering as he joins me, his climax matching mine throb for delicious throb.

  My sex pulses and twitches as he stays buried inside me, his shaft throbbing and slowly subsiding. He rests his hands on my breasts as he climbs down and his cock slips from my wet sex. “Patriotic - yes, I am. But you, Peach, you are my passion. You and only you.”

  I sigh and close my eyes. “Oh, Emil.” My legs hang limp off his desk and I quietly moan as I feel him wiping my sex so very gently with a tissue, before sliding my pants back up my legs. I raise my ass as he eases them beneath me and covers me up. He lifts me off his desk, eases my breasts back inside my bra after kissing them and refastens my dress.

  Reaching behind me, he smiles as again he places the beret on my head. “This evening, my beautiful girl, I will be delighted to celebrate Bastille Day with you. In fact, I will be patriotic in the extreme. I plan to be an upstanding citizen all night long!”

  I’m still trembling as I wrap my arms around him and lean into him, breathing in his usual smell with added sex. As he kisses me, I reach behind and pick up the peach. His eyes never leave mine as I take a bite, slurping slightly as my mouth fills with sweet juice. Tilting the beret, I pucker my lips and blow him a kiss. “I will see you later, Monsieur!”

  As I turn to leave the room, I take another bite, slurping louder this time. “Behave yourself, Peach!” Emil slaps me hard on the ass, smirking as I look over my shoulder and see him tucking his spent cock away.

  “Don’t forget your flagpole, Monsieur Emil!” I smirk and laugh.

  “Out!”

  Chapter Three

  I can’t help but think that tonight is going to be a turning point in my relationship with Emil. He wants to stop the night. That’s huge. Massive - and for once, I’m not panicking. Wow! Maybe I’m finally coming to terms with the realisation that I shouldn’t be afraid of getting emotionally involved as well as physically involved with a man. I hope he remembers to pack his toothbrush!

  I’m smiling as I walk across the car park at work, my heart - and other bits of me - looking forward to the evening ahead. I still struggle to comprehend with how far we’ve come in such a short time. It’s quite staggering.

  I’m so engrossed in my thoughts that I don’t hear someone calling me and I jump when I
feel a hand on my shoulder. “Scott! You startled me.”

  “Sorry. I did call out but you were miles away.”

  I’m usually delighted to see him but not this time. “I’m just on my way home.”

  “Erm, yeah! Look, can I come round later? I’d like to see you.”

  Ah. “Oh, Scott. I’m really sorry. I’m already doing something tonight.” I can hardly bear to look at him.

  He tilts my chin up. “Change your plans. I need to see you. Badly!” He’s serious.

  I pull back. “Sorry. I can’t.” And won’t. Why should I? I don’t know why but I’m really pissed off with him. He’s been more than a little elusive ever since our afternoon together a few weeks ago and now I’m expected to drop everything because he’s got some free time and wants to get his end away.

  “You could if you wanted to.” He’s angry.

  And so am I. “I don’t.”

  He grabs hold of my arm as I turn to walk away. “You’re screwing someone else, aren’t you? Who is he? How long has it been going on?”

  I pull my arm free. “That’s none of your business, Scott.”

  He shakes his head. “So you are then. Screwing someone else. Well that’s just great!”

  I’m really pissed off now. “What exactly has it got to do with you, huh?” Normally I like good argument, it gets me hot. But the way he’s looking at me just makes me angry. “I’m just someone you’re fucking because you aren’t getting it at home so don’t you dare stand there and think you have territorial rights over me! Why don’t you just piss on my leg and be done with it?”

  He makes to grab my arm again but I step back. “You’ve changed your tune. You couldn’t get enough of me a few weeks ago.”

  “A lot can happen in a few weeks, Scott. You left my bed and went home to your marital bed and I haven’t seen or spoken to you since. And now you think I’m going to roll over and spread my legs or open my mouth just because you have a convenient gap in your busy schedule.”