I don't own these characters.
Oliver and Grace Warbucks spent two blissful weeks on the French Riviera for their honeymoon. They alternated between making love, eating the most delicious French cuisine, and sunning themselves on Oliver's private yacht. Oliver had thoroughly enjoyed worshipping every glorious inch of Grace's lithe body and initiating her into a world of pleasure that she didn't know was possible. She had been well worth the nights of frustration that he had endured as he waited for her. Oliver was a generous and thoughtful lover and Grace proved to be a willing and eager student. Together they reached incredible new heights. The newlyweds returned to New York tanned, relaxed, and more in love than ever.
As wonderful as the vacation was, they were glad to be home. They had missed Annie terribly, and she was brimming with stories and questions for her parents. She hadn't stopped chattering since their arrival. Oliver couldn't help but be happy to be back to business, building the Warbucks Empire. He had kept his promise to Grace to leave work behind for the two weeks, but it had been a challenge. He was a very busy and powerful man. And that damned Franklin Roosevelt called multiple times! You'd think the president could give him a break for his honeymoon. Impatient, like a true democrat!
Grace sat before him as she had done for years, yet Oliver sensed a change in her demeanor. Her hair was pulled up into her tight chignon as was her style in their years before Annie. He noticed that she had forgotten to fasten the top several buttons of her blouse and he could see a hint of her red lace bra peeking out from underneath. He was about to inform her of her error, when he noticed that he could also see the matching red silk of her underwear from beneath her skirt. Grace was meticulous about her appearance; this was no coincidence.
"Grace-"
"Yes, Mr. Warbucks? I'm ready for your dick-tation," she chewed on the end of the pencil and locked eyes with him. The faintest trace of a smile played at the corner of her lips.
She hadn't called him Mr. Warbucks since their first kiss. Now he was certain it was a game. He wondered what his seductive little wife had in mind.
"Come here Miss Farrell," he used his authoritative voice, playing along.
She raised an eyebrow and came around his desk, standing before him.
"Is there something I can assist you with?" she looked down at the growing bulge in his pants.
He unzipped his fly and brought her to her knees, pressing his hardness against her immaculate red lips. She greedily sucked and pleasured him, as he sighed his contentment. He reached down and undid the rest of the buttons on her blouse and delicately traced the line of her cleavage. He cupped her breasts gently and she took him deep in her throat. He was ready to burst.
"You naughty girl! Seducing your employer in his office?" He helped her to her feet, wagged his finger at her in mock admonishment, and folded her over his desk. The delicious sight of her silk covered bottom was almost too much for him. He wondered for a moment if she had been secretly wearing such sexy lingerie under her conservative clothes all these years without him knowing. He gave her a playful little smack.
"Yes Sir!" she groaned with lust. "Again" she looked behind and dared him with a wicked grin. Oliver obliged her with another light spanking, leaving a bit of a sting. Their little game was turning Grace on, she could feel her wetness dripping between her thighs.
He swept the contents of his desk to the floor. Capitalism be damned! He sat her on the edge of his desk and began to kiss her hungrily, working his hand up her skirt. He found her panties soaking through; heat radiated off her loins. She spread her legs for him, granting him easier access. He began to massage her through the silk panties as she moaned into his mouth. He slipped his fingers inside of her and began to slowly tease her, mercilessly. Her knees were trembling, her head thrown back, her back arching. She felt her climax build and began to buck wildly against his hand. "Oh God!" she yelled just as she was about to come. He withdrew his hand and she let out a disappointed yelp, panting with frustration.
"You will wait for me, Miss Farrell," Oliver said in a commanding voice.
"As you wish, Mr. Warbucks!" she pouted.
No time to undress, Oliver pulled aside her panties and buried himself to the hilt with one hard thrust. She grunted, a bit of pain with a lot of pleasure. He started at a relentless, unforgiving pace, ravaging her. He filled her again and again, reaching that sweet spot deep inside that brought her to ecstasy. Grace cried out with unbridled passion as he continued his animalistic assault on body. The feeling of her walls contracting around him sent him over the edge. He was sure their screams could be heard from down the hall, but he didn't care. Let them hear him enjoying his wife!
They laughed, collapsing onto the desk together, as he held her close in his arms. She was a gorgeous mess: glistening with sweat, clothes askew, and her hair undone.
"That will be all, Miss Farrel" he dismissed her with a gentle kiss.
She got up and laid upon the sofa in his office trying to catch her breath while he opened the French doors out to the patio and lit a cigar. He smiled to himself and took a long slow drag. His wife never ceased to amaze him. Just when he thought he knew her secrets, she surprised him anew.