Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.
Oh God, couldn’t she think of anything else?
“You want coffee, Jo?” Mike asked.
“Yes, please,” Jo called.
“Slice of toast?”
I’d prefer sex over your desk.
Jo sighed. “No, thanks.”
I don’t need food. I need your cock inside me, filling me, pumping into me…
Jo clenched her fists and bit back a groan as she watched her handsome, middle-aged boss pouring boiling water into two mugs.
Lovely long fingers.
Jo told herself off. Mike Evans was happily married with four kids and strictly off limits.
Such a cute butt.
Her inner thigh muscles clenched and a blast of heat shot through her body leaving tingling pins and needles in its wake. She needed to walk out of the office right now. Instead, she got to her feet, stepped towards him, and sniffed.
He smells so good.
Jo wanted to rip off her clothes, rip off his clothes, and roll on the floor rubbing herself all over him.
His sexy lips would feel so good around my nipples.
Jo’s breasts perked up under her shirt and she took another step in his direction. She couldn’t stand much more of this. A snuffled whimper escaped before Jo could clamp her mouth shut.
Mike turned to find her at his back and stuffed the mug in her hand. He gave her a quizzical look. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Jo sniffed and coughed. “Allergies.”
“I didn’t think you suffered from hay fever.”
“Something in the office affecting me,” Jo choked out and put the mug down before she dropped it.
Mike walked to his desk, still staring at her. “Really?”
Yank down your pants and fuck me and I’ll be fine.
She pressed her thighs together. Tight. Then her lips. Tighter.
Mike frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
No, she wasn’t sure. Jo grabbed her backpack. “Just remembered I’ve an appointment in Malham.”
“While you’re over that way, could you check the fencing on the east side of Fordham Wood? I had a call to say there’s some damage. Kids or deer. Both flipping hooligans.”
“I’ll have a look.”
Jo didn’t take another breath until she reached the parking lot. She’d been very close to losing control and ruining her relationship with Mike. She couldn’t carry on like this. She climbed into the Forest Enterprises Land Rover and gripped the wheel with shaking hands. Now that Mike was out of sight, it became easier to cope and Jo’s heartbeat began to settle down. I’ll be fine. Breathe deep. In -- out.
The mailman pulled up next to her in his red van and gave her a cheery wave. Young, muscular, virile
. Her mouth went dry, her pulse spiked, and Jo groaned. He got out of his van, leaned one arm on the roof of the Land Rover, and bent at her open window. Jo looked down. Tight shorts. Generous bulge. His cock waiting for my lips to lick it into life and get it ready for a different sort of in -- out
. She shuddered.
“Morning, Jo. Lovely day. Mike upstairs?”
“Yeah. Gotta go.” Before she threw herself at him.
Jo fastened her seatbelt and accelerated out of the parking lot, just missing a large dog that chose the wrong moment to emerge from a bush. She forced herself to slow down and maintained a steady speed, fighting the temptation to race as far away as possible from civilization. She wasn’t fit to be a member of society. Her mind was a running sewer. The raunchiest teenager didn’t think about sex as much as she did.
This happened every month. For five days, her life became increasingly dominated by the desire to fuck every decent looking guy she saw. In truth, they didn’t even have to be good looking. Being male and in her vicinity seemed to be enough. Jo had come to the conclusion the cause had to be erratic, rampaging hormones because unless she was a part-time nymphomaniac, what other explanation could there be? For those lustful five days her nipples were rarely anything other than bullet hard, her panties stayed sodden, and her libido ran off the Richter scale. She woke up thinking about sex and went to sleep thinking about sex. Oh, and it occupied every moment in between.
Her love life was screwed. For three weeks in every month she behaved like a normal human being, but for those few exhausting days she turned into a sex fiend, and it made her afraid of getting involved with anyone. The second to last guy who’d asked her out had entered her life at the wrong time of the month. He was cute and Jo really liked him so she risked it. She’d tried hard to control herself, but the moment he’d walked into her apartment, she’d yanked down his zipper. Actually, it had been in the corridor outside her apartment. She hadn’t been able to wait. It was a bit much for the first date and no surprise that he’d freaked.
She made sure the timing was better for the next guy. Jo decided to warn him what was to come. He’d acted as though he couldn’t believe his luck, and she’d begun to hope he’d be the one to last a whole month. But that first night of the five Jo had flirted with every man in the bowling alley and then the restaurant, which put her date in a foul mood. And though his mood had improved when she dragged him into bed, waking him seven times over two hours to fuck her had ended with accusations of her using him as a sex toy. He wasn’t wrong.
When the lust for sex came over her, Jo tried everything to distract herself. Nothing worked for long; reading, watching TV, listening to music -- they all warped into thoughts about sex within a short time. Exercise worked the best because it wore her out to the point that she was too tired to think about sex, let alone do anything about it. Too many men to ogle in the gym, so instead for five nights a month she went on extremely long runs, loping all over the countryside until she was ready to drop from exhaustion, rather than drop her pants.
Jo knew she was running from the truth and couldn’t keep going forever. Something was wrong with her -- physically and psychologically. The knowledge that she’d nearly jumped gentle, happily married Mike pushed Jo to accept that the time to seek advice was way overdue. She needed help now. Today. No more prevaricating.
Jo parked outside the doctor’s surgery and prayed for a woman to be on duty in the drop-in clinic. Ten minutes’ wait before she could see Dr. Max Remus. Ten minutes to hope this would be a Maxine and not Maximilian. Ten minutes to sit with her thighs clamped together and drool over a teenager sitting next to her and a sexy-looking bald guy with tattooed arms sitting opposite. Neither the acne nor the hacking cough put her off.
When the doctor opened the door and called her name, Jo’s heart clenched in a combination of lust and despair. Max Remus was tall and good-looking with beefy, broad shoulders. He was also a shaggy blond. Jo preferred dark hair, but it didn’t matter. She wanted him.
Once he’d closed the door and they were alone, Jo’s mouth watered and her pussy began to throb. She clenched her fists and sat down, balanced on the edge of the seat ready for fight or flight. Or fucking
. Jo almost let the whimper escape.
“What can I do for you?” he asked in a deep voice that rolled over her like warm water.
Take off your clothes and ram your thick cock inside me.
Jo took a deep breath and opened her mouth. “Take off --” For fuck’s sake.
He stared at her expectantly.
“Take off my jacket,” she mumbled and cringed when she remembered she’d left it in the Land Rover.
Beautiful eyes. Full lips. His tongue inside me, pushing, twisting…
“Ms. Carter? Jo?”
She snapped upright. She needed to blurt it out before she invented some outlandish condition. Though thinking about it, this was worse than anything she could imagine.
“Tell me what’s wrong. There’s no need to be embarrassed. You can’t shock me. I’ve heard it all before.”
Want to bet on that?
“I can’t stop thinking about sex.”