Rebecca

Rebecca slipped beneath the bubbles allowing the hot water to wash over her tired body.  The journey home for the weekend had been hell; packed tube trains, a delay on the main rail line.  This coupled with a disastrous meeting which ran over and they’d lost out on a million pound contract combined to make for one of the worst days of her life.

On arriving at her Hampshire cottage, Rebecca only had unwinding on her mind.  She ran a hot bath, lit some scented candles and opened a particularly fine vintage Merlot.  Outside the mist mixed with drizzle in a damp, miserable cloud; inside the steam and candle smoke mingled in a hedonistic mix.  Already the misery and pressure was lifting and the wine warmed her inside.

She looked down at her naked body and smiled.  At 36 years old she was still in as good condition as she had been at 21.  Not that she didn’t have to work on it to keep so fit; three times a week Rebecca visited an exclusive gym, pushing her body to its limits and at weekends she would ride her horses on her Hampshire estate and (when weather and commitments allowed) tending her garden.  She often got admiring glances from male colleagues and passers-by but she never committed to a relationship.  Maybe in a year or two, she thought, but now was not the time to settle down.  There was too much to do in the family business before she could think about starting a brood of her own.

As she took another sip of the deep, fruity wine her mobile began to ring.  Rebecca sighed deeply.  She’d considered switching it off or at worst leaving it on the kitchen work surface but reluctantly brought it up with her.  Business stopped for no-one and she was no exception.  Besides, they’d missed out on a million pound contract today and it was something she would struggle to make back.  Putting down the crystal glass, she picked up the ‘phone and groaned when she saw the display.

“Greg. What are you doing calling me?”  Greg Marshall was a young, hotshot salesman. In his early twenties he’d already established a pretty impressive portfolio.  Young, energetic, cocky and responsible for the contract negotiations falling through earlier in the day, Greg had a nerve calling her.  She was so angry after the meeting she’d stormed out, not wanting to face him.

“Rebecca…I just wanted to…”  His voice was slurred slightly and she could tell he’d already drunk more than his fill.  The lack of noise in the background suggested he’d left his normal Friday night haunts early and retired to whatever bachelor pad he’d established in the City.  Rebecca could imagine the scene: leather suite, white walls, minimalistic with a few arty prints to liven up the walls.  His horde of lovers would traipse through, barely noticing the décor on the way to the bedroom, bedecked – no doubt – with silk sheets and mood lighting.

“It’s Miss Sloane to you,” Rebecca replied, slipping deeper into the water, hoping it would envelope her and put an end to this miserable day.  “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to…to apologise for what happened this afternoon.”  Greg mumbled.

Rebecca Sloane had been Managing Director of Sloane’s Fabrications for three years since her father passed away after a brief illness.  Frank had been energetic and a great fabricator but it had been Rebecca’s business acumen which had rapidly expanded the company into the largest fabrication company in the UK.  Since coming on board the business had bought several factories, initiated a distribution hub and taken control of several outlets in Europe.  Her smart business dealings had meant that Sloane’s owned the European arm completely but she’d allowed existing management and staff to continue as before with Rebecca bringing them under one umbrella and directing operations so that output increased and profitability rose.  In the next couple of years, Rebecca intended to purchase some American business to further expand the business.  Of course, there were sacrifices and Rebecca had to move from the countryside where she was raised and spend her weeks in the City but she was happy with her life.

Until Greg screwed everything up this afternoon.

“Apologise?  You call me up on a Friday night to discuss your incompetence and apologise for losing me an inordinate amount of money?  Couldn't it wait until Monday morning?”  Rebecca shifted in the tub and a warm, refreshing wave of water washed over her skin.

“I’m…are you in the bath?”

Rebecca heard the sudden catch in his voice and the slightly ragged breath.  Did Greg Marshall get turned on by the thought of his boss taking a bath?  She knew her physique was pretty good and men often told her she was attractive but Rebecca had never thought of herself in such a way.  Maybe she could make the day a little more enjoyable after all.

“Yes, Greg.  I’m in the bath.”  Rebecca tried to make her voice a little husky and took a swig of the Merlot to cover the amusement in her tone.

“In the bath…naked?”  The mumbled, drunken slurring in his voice enhanced by his shortness of breath.

What a prick! 

“No, Greg.  I’m in the bath fully clothed. Of course I’m naked. How else do you take a bath?”  Rebecca leaned her head back into the water and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.  When she raised herself, water cascaded from her long auburn hair, now almost black in its wet state.

There was silence.  Over the line Rebecca distinctly hear the sound of a zip being pulled down and the rustle of clothing.  Greg’s breathing was becoming heavier.

“Greg?”  She enquired, her voice playful.  “Is everything OK?”

When he answered his breath was shallow and his words clipped.  “I made a mistake.  Several mistakes.  I wanted to apologise and I assure you I’ll do anything to make it up to you.  All you have to do is ask.”

Rebecca took a deep breath.  She could imagine Greg at the other end of the line, probably lying on the bed with his trousers and boxer shorts around his ankles, his engorged organ in hand as he pleasured himself to the thought of his boss naked in the bath.  If truth be told, the thought was empowering and she started to feel a stirring between her legs.  Absent mindedly she ran her fingernails up her inner thigh taking a deep gasp at the sensual feeling which tingled through her body.

“Rebecca? Miss Sloane?”  Greg had heard her intake of breath and misinterpreted but she didn’t care.  “Are you alright?”  With every word his breath was shorter.

“Oh, Greg,”  She said huskily, a mischievous grin playing on her lips, “I feel so good.  I wish you could see me right now so you could see just how great I’m feeling.”

And to tell the truth, Rebecca was feeling good.  Very good.  She ran her hand across her breast and squeezed, feeling the nipple hardening under her touch.  Why was she feeling so aroused?  Why should she care?  It felt good and that was what mattered.  Between her legs she felt a stirring that hadn't been evident for a while; a tingling which rippled through her thighs causing an eruption of flutters in her tight stomach.

“Oh God!”  Greg’s words were uncontrollable and Rebecca could sense his deep pleasure and knew he was close to release.

Feeling turned on by the control she had over her employee, Rebecca slid her free fingers over her stomach and down over her neatly shaved pussy.  She knew she was wet down there and it wasn't just down to the bath water.  Stopping momentarily to massage her swollen clit, Rebecca thrust her finger inside her, pumping it gently back and forth, filling her body with unprecedented warmth and making waves in the water.  God it felt good.

“Greg.  There’s something you should know,”  Rebecca panted breathily between thrusts.
 
Nothing.  Short grunts the only sound from the other end of the line.  Greg was clearly enjoying himself and she could imagine his swollen purple head, precum glistening in his bedroom light, making his rock hard cock shiny.

“When I get out of the bath, water trickling down my naked body, there’s something I’m going to do.”  Rebecca left the words hanging.

“What?  What are you going to do?”  Greg was groaning.  Rebecca could hear the swish of cloth and flesh as he masturbated furiously, eager to cum but wanting to preserve the moment.  From her own perspective, Rebecca knew she was close to orgasm and pulled her finger free.  Without hesitation she started to finger her clit, tossing her head back as the next wave of pleasure rippled through her.

“Something that’s going to involve you, Greg.  Something I wish I could be doing with you here, Greg.”  Rebecca replied in a teasing voice, gathering her senses just enough to speak, knowing she had the salesman hooked.

“What? What are you going to do?”  Greg gasped.

Before she could respond Greg groaned out loud.  Rebecca envisioned him laying there, his seed spilt on the sheets, panting at his sexual release.  She imagined his spasm as shot after shot of hot white cum poured over his hands, onto the bed and floor.  It was too much.  With her finger furiously circling and massaging her hard, sensitive clit, Rebecca succumbed to the orgasm which jolted through her body.  Every muscle tensed as the vibrations racked her entire soul before passing and she slipped beneath the water, thoroughly satiated.  Moments later her body relaxed completely, giving in to unprecedented satisfaction.

“You want to know what I’m going to do, Greg?”  Rebecca asked.  “I’m going to fire you.  Good luck in finding a new career.”

She hit the call end button, replaced the 'phone and slipped under the water smiling.  This was going to be a good weekend and come Monday morning everyone at Sloane’s would realise that Rebecca was not a woman to be messed with.

Empowered and relaxed, Rebecca took another long sip of wine.

Fuck it! She thought.  And without a care - not to mention out of character - Rebecca lay back in the bath and masturbated slowly to a second body ripping orgasm, her heightened senses absorbing the soft music and aromas, tantalising her and taking her pleasure to new highs.