hannah_chapter1: (Calm)
Title: Professional
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Summary: Matt is a sexy chauffeur. What else needs to be said?
Rating: 18/NC-17
Disclaimer: Nothing real here, just a bit of fun, some pervy goodness.
Notes: This was not my idea to begin with, it came from @mercury973 and she was nice enough to let me take it and make it my own. And, you know, it was such a good idea, I wrote two versions! Enjoy.

Version One

He's such a professional.

That's what they say about him, all those rich and important people he drives about. Oh I'll grant you, he looks the part, all freshly washed and shaved skin and exquisitely manicured nails and crisp black suits. His chauffeur's cap is never crooked. He acts the part too, answers all questions in a soft, polite voice and he's never rude or over-familiar.

They sit in that black limo and they praise him to the skies, telling him he's the best driver they've ever had. He accepts their praise with a modest smile, like the professional he is, the professional they believe him to be. But they don't know him like I do.

A professional to the untrained eye - and a tart in the flesh.

Oh yeah - beneath that professional exterior lurks the soul of a man who'll happily shag me until I can't take anymore. That's just what he does, when the evening's work is done and the limo is finally squared away. He comes to me and strips, revealing silver nipple rings and black tattoos on creamy white flesh. The suit is tossed into the nearest convenient corner, but he leaves the cap on. He knows it drives me wild.

There's no time for soft voices and careful turns of phrase, all the things he woos his clients with. With me it's all rough demands and obscene promises. He orders me down on the floors and makes me beg for it, which I'm more than happy to do. When he's had enough of that he tells me what he's going to do to me, pornographic scenarios spilling freely from those perfect lips, words that would, no doubt, shock his clients to their very cores.

But not half as much, or so I'd imagine, as what happens when he decides the time for talk is over. Oh, how their eyes would pop if they could see what he does to me, how his hands touch all my secret places, how his tongue tastes the sweat on my neck and back, the way his cock slams into my arse again and again, melting my brain and turning my insides into jelly...

....I remember, this one time, he smuggled me into the back of the limo and shagged my brains out right in the middle of a society wedding. Even as the happy couple were saying "I do" I was blowing my load all over the backseat. They never knew anything about it, though. By the time they came out of the church I was gone, the backseat was clean and he was cool and calm as ever.

A professional.

Version Two

I think he's watching me.

Don't be so stupid, I tell myself, he's just checking his rear-view mirror, the way a good driver should. But I still can't shake that feeling.

I'm in this city on business and my company wants to impress all these potential new clients with an outward display of wealth, so I'm staying in a five-star hotel and I have a limo and driver to take me everywhere I go.

And, my God, what a driver.

His name is Matthew and he is beautiful. Small and slim, just the way I like them, with pale skin and gorgeous blue eyes. Those eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror and I swallow thickly. I think of all the things I'd like to do to him, all the things I'd like him to do to me and I'm suddenly, painfully, hard. I cross and recross my legs in a desperate attempt to hide it and .... was that a laugh I just heard?

Did he see?

Does he know?

My face heats up and I look down at my shoes for what seems like an eternity. I finally risk another glance and ... nothing. He's not looking at me. All his attention is on the road, on his driving.

That's just the way it should be - or, at least, that's what I tell myself.


"Can I help you with those?"

I swear, if sex had a voice, it would be Matthew's, soft and smooth, with a faint, suggestive undercurrent. A bedroom voice if ever there was was one.

"H-help me?" I squeak, my own voice cracking through the registers like it did when I was thirteen.

Smooth, Dominic, smooth operator, that's you.

"With your files," he says, that perfect, sexy voice tinged with just a hint of amusement.

Oh, those.

"Yes, please, your help would be very ... helpful," I finish lamely.

Matthew smiles and tucks a box of files under either arm. He's stronger than he looks. I wonder if .... no! Away with that, away with that unless i want to blow my load right here, right now. He follows me up to my room and I try and think unsexy thoughts.

"Where do you want me?"

I think I'm going crazy.

"What did you just say?"

"Where should I put these?" he repeats.

Oh. I really am going crazy.

"Just put them in the corner by the bathroom."

He does as I ask and I thank him, tell him I'll see him tomorrow, at the usual time. But he doesn't leave, as I expect him to. Why isn't he leaving?

"Take off your clothes." he orders me.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard what I said," he replies, "I told you to take off your clothes."

"Why would I do that?" I say, trying to play it cool, failing miserably.

"Because I want you to. Because I want to shag the living daylights out of you."

I try to say something, some kind of protest. He's having none of it.

"Save it, Mr. Howard. We both know you want this, so be a good boy, take your clothes off and I'll give you just what you want."

I can't argue with that logic, so I do as he says.

"Good boy."

He smirks and those beautiful blue eyes take in every inch of my bare flesh and the erection begging for his attention. He takes off his black suit and I know my mouth is watering but I just can't help myself. I knew he'd be beautiful, I knew his pale skin would glow in the soft bedroom light.

I didn't expect the piercings and the tattoos, the additions that nudge his beauty to just the right shade of wanton. Truly, I could just stand here and stare at him all night. He's got other plans, though. He shoves me onto the bed and shoves his head between my legs. Sweet Jesus, it feels like his tongue is all over me, inside me, tasting and teasing everything it can, balls, arsehole, cock.

Eating me, oh, he's eating me alive!

Matthew pulls away suddenly, leaves the bed completely. I'm about to beg him to come back when I see him searching the pockets of his jacket. He finds a tube of lube and returns to me.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he announces.

"Yes. Please. Yes."

I spread my legs, eager, but he shakes his head.

"No, not like that. We do this my way."

My driver pulls me up and positions me just the way he wants me. I end up pinned, cruciform-like, to the wall above the headboard. Matthew hums behind me, pleased with his handiwork. Am I ready to be fucked, he asks me. Is that some kind of joke? I've never been more ready and I tell him this, beg for his cock, please, please, please....

My words become a loud wail of pleasure when he answers my prayers and impales me. He's not gentle and that's fine - more than fine, perfect. When I thought about him, when I touched myself and thought of him, I didn't want slow and gentle. I wanted fast and rough and wild and I'm getting it, all I wanted and more, oh! So much more!

A hand presses against the back of my head, smearing my face against the wallpaper, holding me in place while he has his wicked way with me. He slaps my hip, hard enough to leave a bruise and the shock of it, the sudden, intense pain in the middle of so much pleasure, triggers the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced. I screech, the sound muffled by the wall as Matthew, true to his word, continues to shag the living daylights out of me. I swear, he's the porn version of the Energiser Bunny, he just keeps shagging and shagging and shagging.

I've lost all feeling in my arms and legs when he finally reaches his own tipping point, growling as he comes. Matthew pants into my ear for awhile, then kisses it. His cock slips out of me and I'm lowered down to the bed. The last thing I'm aware of is him holding me close to his chest.


He's gone when I wake, I knew he would be. I find him just where I thought I would: outside the hotel, beside his limo, smooth and polished and professional as ever.

"Good morning, Mr. Howard," he smiles and opens the back door for me, "did you sleep well?"

"Very well," I climb into the car, "thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure you have a very busy day ahead of you. And a very busy night," he adds softly as he closes the car door.

I laugh softly and settle into my seat.

Yes, a very busy night.

I can hardly wait.


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August 2016

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