Full Frontal Fantasy Read online

  Full Frontal Fantasy

  Lyla Sinclair

  When Murray Training V.P. Celeste Phillips realizes she’s drained every drop of excitement from her sex life with her own anti-sexual harassment trainings, she decides to visit a fantasy-fulfillment center for a night of anonymous sex. Finally she’s living her lewdest, most politically incorrect dream—with a younger man, no less—and no one will ever know.

  Until “The Warden” from her fantasy shows up at her office…as her new coworker.

  Ryan Marshall is more than just a coworker, a fact he’s sworn not to reveal. His unusual situation makes it even more difficult to gain Celeste’s trust, but she seems to be staying as far away from him as possible anyway. However, Ryan knows her darkest secrets…her deepest desires…and he’s more than willing to use his knowledge to lure Celeste back into his life.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Full Frontal Fantasy

  ISBN 9781419932823

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Full Frontal Fantasy Copyright © 2011 Lyla Sinclair

  Edited by Kelli Collins

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication February 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Full Frontal Fantasy

  Lyla Sinclair

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

  Business Week: Bloomberg L.P. Limited Partnership

  FedEx: Federal Express Corporation

  M&M’s: Mars, Incorporated

  Yale University: Yale University Non-Profit Corporation

  Chapter One

  “Do you have any big plans this weekend, Celeste?”

  My eyes slowly panned up from my computer screen, knowing they’d find Mr. Murray in my office doorway.

  “Do you have any plans, Celeste?” My brain repeated it three times before I could find my voice. I felt a flush moving up my neck. Mr. Murray was not only my boss of fifteen years. He was my mentor. In a way, I guess he was the father I’d always wished I had. Mr. Murray and I had the utmost respect for each other and more than a little affection. I couldn’t remember ever lying to him before.

  “I’m sorry, I was deep in thought,” I stalled. “What did you say, Mr. President?”

  He chuckled, as he did whenever I teased him with his company title. His brown eyes shone kindly from his wrinkled yet still-distinguished face. “Well, I feel guilty about how hard you’ve been working. This is your first weekend off all month, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but this was important. We already have several companies scheduled for the new training and we certainly didn’t want to lose those contracts.” I hoped this would take him off track from the first question.

  “It was very important, and you came through as always, Celeste. That’s why I made you V.P.”

  I smiled at him with genuine appreciation. Nearly every iota of satisfaction in my life came from my work…although I was hoping that maybe this weekend, for once, I’d get satisfaction of another kind.

  “So, what are your big plans for the weekend?” he asked cheerfully.

  Damn. I took a deep breath and searched my brain for a lie that wouldn’t get stuck in my throat.

  * * * * *

  I shouldn’t have shown up early. Being compulsively early yet impatient is a bad combination on a normal day, but today…

  I glanced around again as I sat in the fake foyer in the fake house at Fantasm Fantasy Fulfillment. This was just one of several retired sound stages purchased by a set designer and a costume designer, who’d turned them into the ultimate—and most discreet—fantasy-fulfillment house in the country. A place where someone like Celeste Phillips would never, ever be found.

  Except I didn’t come here to be Celeste, because Celeste was a women who never got what she really needed, sexually speaking. But since I held an important position at Murray Training Inc., a company that provided corporate and collegiate trainings such as “Make Your Work Place a Sexual Harassment Free Zone,” and “No Always Means No,” I couldn’t afford a reputation as any sort of sexual deviant. Maybe if I was a man…but I wasn’t.

  I looked down at my naked legs protruding from my tiny denim shorts. My thighs were jiggling up and down nervously in a way my coworkers had never, ever seen. In fact, my coworkers had no reason to be sure I even had legs above my knees since I generally wore suits with below-knee-length skirts. These “booty” shorts and the sleeveless button-down shirt with tiny yellow flowers scattered over it were the work of the Fantasm staff.

  I pressed down on my thighs to make the shaking stop. Too bad there wasn’t an equally simple remedy for the galloping in my chest.

  Yes, it was crazy to be here, but when a woman reaches her mid-forties and still hasn’t had a truly wild and satisfying sexual experience, she can get a little desperate. Besides, clients were screened very carefully at Fantasm with lengthy questionnaires to ensure there was virtually no chance they’d run into each other in the real world.

  I glanced up at a clock shaped like a fish—probably a bass, though I was hardly a fisherman. Nice touch, though, considering the type of guy my partner in this charade would be portraying. I wondered if he’d bothered to learn all the lines the way I wrote them. I didn’t need to memorize them myself. I’d been replaying this scene exactly the same way in my mind for years.

  But when the clock struck eight, I was overcome by sudden terror. What if I wasn’t attracted to him? What if I didn’t truly want what I’d fantasized about all this time? What if he recognized me from the tiny picture BusinessWeek ran next to the article I’d written for them five years ago?

  I stood up, ready to bolt. But before I could move any farther, the doorknob turned, the door opened, and he was there.

  I gasped.

  He was way more than I’d expected, with his broad shoulders and thick biceps. He was obviously in some manly profession. Construction worker? Fireman? Yet his stance said he was used to giving orders. Arousal began pulsing at the base of my throat before it snaked through my body.

  “Hi,” he said in a gentle voice that seemed at odds with his in-your-face physique. “Jenny?” We were using fake names, but it was definitely a smart move on his part to make sure he was in the right sound stage before proceeding.

  “Yeah.” My voice came out in a whisper. I cleared my throat. “Yes.” I swallowed hard, feeling as if I couldn’t quite catch my breath
.

  I had to hand it to the Fantasm people. The mirrored sunglasses and uniform were a nice touch. But as he stood silently watching me, my heart raced and I felt the need to fidget. For the first time in many years, I didn’t have my corporate wardrobe to protect me. I suddenly felt downright silly and wanted to rip the childish ponytail from my shoulder-length brown hair. It was probably just making me look older anyway.

  God, he was hot though. And young. Definitely younger than I was by a good ten, fifteen years? I hoped it wasn’t more than that. But why was he just standing there staring? Did he want to back out of this now that he’d seen me?

  I finally remembered the first line was mine. I cleared my throat.

  “Um, thanks for picking me to clean your house for you, Warden,” I said. “It’s nice to get out for a while…and nice to be back in my own clothes.” Ha! These were about as far from my real clothes as you could get.

  “No problem, Jenny. You earned it with your good behavior.” He pulled off his sunglasses and I almost melted into the floor.

  His eyes were a steely blue-gray, like his uniform. He looked exactly like the kind of man who would do to a woman what I’d needed done to me for a long, long time now.

  Then the reality of it hit me. I was looking at the only other person in the world who was privy to the content of my most lurid, most inappropriate, most politically incorrect fantasy. Why in the world had I instigated this?

  He ushered me in, and I walked on shaky legs into the living area. Did I want to stop this before it went too far? I could see the outline of his pecs through his very fitted shirt… No. I didn’t want to stop.

  “Wow, this is a nice place. Where do you want me to start?” I asked, already knowing his answer.

  “Back there, in the bedroom,” he replied.

  I walked through the “house”, trying to keep an unsuspecting expression on my face, but I could feel my panties getting damp already. When I got to the bedroom, I turned all the way around as though I hadn’t seen it before. In reality I’d checked the place out before he arrived and knew there were five kinds of condoms and three kinds of lube in the drawers next to the bed, along with something special required especially for my fantasy.

  “But it’s so clean already,” I exclaimed, a lump forming in my throat.

  He waited until I looked back at him, then he slowly closed the door and turned the lock.

  “Why are you locking the door?” I asked, genuinely nervous now that I realized I was locked in a room with a man I’d never met before in my life.

  “You didn’t really think you were coming here to clean my house, did you, Jenny? I’m sure some of the other ladies have filled you in.”

  He was getting it just right. Heat fanned out from my middle to my extremities. “No, I—”

  “Take off your clothes,” he commanded as he began unbuttoning his shirt. His warden voice was very different than the kinder, gentler one he’d greeted me with. I was speechless for several long seconds as he pulled his shirt off his shoulders and dropped it on the floor. His tanned, thickly muscled torso was more than I’d ever dreamed. I searched for my next line. My mouth went dry when I remembered it, but I didn’t want to stop now.

  “Warden! You’re not gonna fuck me are you?”

  His lips widened into a smile. He chuckled. The expression somehow made him look more handsome and more predatory at the same time.

  He took a step toward me and began unbuttoning my top. I hoped my body wouldn’t be a disappointment. He could easily get any woman his own age. A flock of butterflies took up residence in my stomach.

  He pulled my shirt off, which was followed quickly by my bra.

  “Mmmm…” he said as he reached up with both hands, cradling my breasts. He ran his thumbs over my nipples.

  Wow. That wasn’t in the script. His palms were sizzling hot on my cool skin. My eyes fell closed.

  Focus, Celeste…I mean “Jenny”. I opened my eyes.

  “But Warden, I’m a virgin and my Aunt Louise said that if I ever started fucking around, I’d be out on my ear. I’m supposed to be released in a couple of months. She’ll know if I’ve done it. She knows everything.”

  He chuckled again. I loved the deep, taunting sound of his voice. He ran his hands down my stomach and hitched his thumbs in the top of my shorts. Suddenly I knew I could do this. I let myself sink into the part of Jenny completely.

  I fell down to my knees. “Please, Warden! Please don’t fuck me. I’ll do anything!”

  He looked down at me and lifted one eyebrow. “Anything?” he asked.

  I nodded hopefully.

  He took his time unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper. His cock sprang free and my heart jumped up into my throat. I knew what he was supposed to do with that thing later and it just seemed too big. I thought I’d covered all the bases in my Fantasm request, but I forgot to stipulate maximum cock size.

  He pushed his erection toward my face and ran it across my lips.

  I swallowed my fear—I had to, to make room for his cock. “If I suck it real good, will you promise not to fuck me?” I asked.

  “Sure, if you suck it real good,” he replied.

  Tentatively, I placed it in my mouth. I loved the feel of its silky hardness on my tongue. I had the urge to give it all I had and satisfy this man completely, to reward him for having learned his part so well. But I’d made an agreement with myself—and him—that we’d stick to the script so nothing could possibly get personal. If I started ad-libbing to that extent, the situation could get out of control. This guy was never supposed to know anything about me, but I had a feeling that if I gave him the chance to ask, I’d sing like a canary.

  Remaining in character, I tongued his cock amateurishly. He sucked in a sudden breath, followed by a grunt. I liked that he wasn’t just going through the motions, but seemed to be really enjoying this. I let him slip clumsily from my mouth.

  He looked down at me as if annoyed.

  “Please, Warden,” I begged. “Give me another chance. I can do it better.” I grabbed his cock and put it back in my mouth, this time sucking hard.

  “Mmmm…yes, Jenny.” His hands cupped the sides of my head. “Suck it hard.”

  Even though the words were in the script, the sound of his voice, now husky with arousal, sent a rush of electrical pulses all the way to my toes and fingertips. But I forced myself to let him slip from my mouth again anyway.

  “Okay, that’s it—” he began.

  I interrupted. “Just one more chance, Warden. Please?” This time, when I placed his cock in my mouth, he took my head more firmly in hand.

  “You’re gonna deep-throat it, you little tease,” he said, causing me to get downright dizzy with desire. But this wasn’t the main event, so when his cock hit the back of my throat the third time, I gagged and pulled away.

  “Stand up,” he commanded. My body nearly overheated at what was to come next. “Take off those shorts.”

  “Yes sir,” I said meekly, as though defeated. I undid my shorts and slid them down to the floor.

  “Panties too.”

  My hands began to shake. I knew how vulnerable I would feel once I was completely naked. Sex with a stranger was so out of character for me. But the men I knew in real life also knew what I did for a living and had often taken the courses I’d written. So my typical date was full of questions like, “Celeste, would you mind if I held your hand?” or “Would it be okay if I kissed you now or would that intrude on your personal space?” That had happened over and over until I realized I had completely sucked the excitement out of my sexual encounters with my own trainings. But what was I supposed to do? Throw away my career?

  No, this was my only option if I was going to fulfill this kind of crazy anti-feminist fantasy. Besides, I couldn’t possibly drag myself away from this hot “warden” now.

  As he watched me with his steely eyes, I put my thumbs in either side of my panties and inched them down until they fell in a
puddle onto the floor with my shorts. The warden’s eyes skimmed slowly from my feet to my torso, until he was looking me in the eye. I held my breath as he held my gaze for one…two…three seconds. Then he turned away, walked over to the drawer and took out a surgical glove. My thighs squeezed together in anticipation. He began pulling the glove onto his right hand.

  “What are you doing, Warden?” I asked as he came toward me.

  “Do you remember what happened the first day you arrived at Mavenworth?”

  I looked at the glove fearfully. “But why now?”

  “The guards said there’s been a lot of illegal activity lately. Can’t be too careful…turn your back to me.”

  I turned around slowly. I thought I could feel my own cream at the tops of my thighs. I’d never gotten this wet without a man even touching me down there.

  “Spread ’em,” he said as he tapped the inside of my ankle with his boot.

  I spread my legs wider.

  “Bend over and grab your ankles.”

  When I did I felt a wave of fear wash over me, as if I were really a captive, his for the taking—which maybe I was at this point. I tried to recall my safe word, but when I did, I pushed it back out of my mind, knowing I didn’t want to end this after getting so close.

  My hands were on my ankles, my head at knee level, my ass in the air. His gloved hand moved between my thighs, prodding, searching for the entrance. A finger brushed my clit and I tensed, sucking in a surprised breath. It slid slowly backward until it found its way into my pussy. I jerked and nearly came, but he stilled and waited.

  After I took a few deep breaths, he began to move his finger, prodding, thrusting farther and farther inside.

  I whimpered. Despite my position, I didn’t feel as if the blood was rushing to my head. In fact, everything inside me seemed to be rushing to meet his finger.

  “Hmmm…” he said. He pulled out and reentered with two fingers. I moaned, nearly coming again, but he stilled long enough for the orgasm to melt away before it really got started. Then he resumed his “search”, sliding his fingers inside again and again, sending spasm after spasm of near release through my body. He seemed to know exactly how long to wait between thrusts to keep me right on the edge.