The Secret Diaries - Volume 1

Written by: Madame Destine

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The characters belong to their various creators: Buena Vista Television / The Walt Disney Company and The Gargoyles Saga, and they are used without their express knowledge or consent.

Warning: This is a work of adult fan fiction. It contains explicit depictions of sex, adult language, and is intended for mature readers only. If you are under the age of consent, please stop reading now.

* * * * *

From the Diary of Andrea Calhoun...

Dominique dropped by the studio today. I was working in a new painting, a commission (yay!) and the work was going so well I didn't even hear her enter. She was dressed in one of her impeccably tailored power suits, this one a conservative black skirt and double-breasted jacket combo, and carrying a matching black attaché case instead of a handbag.

All this I noticed after she caught my attention by wrapping her arms around my waist and gently relieving me of my palette and brush.

"I only have a few minutes," she murmured as she set my art supplies down on the nearby worktable. "I have to catch a plane."

I have to admit, at first I was a little bit annoyed. The work had been going well up to that point. I glanced up at the clock. I'd been painting steadily for over an hour.

"You know you're always welcome, Dominique," I said, concealing my irritation.

"I've been thinking about you all morning," she continued as she returned to my side. I was wearing a painter's smock over my jeans and tee shirt and she pulled on the apron strings causing it to come loose. I took the hint and shrugged my shoulders. The smock slithered to the ground, pooling at my feet. Dominique kicked it aside and pulled me into her embrace. Her lips sought mine hungrily and her hands began to roam, pushing their way under my tee shirt to fondle roughly at my breasts.

I sighed, excited by her touch, though I was still annoyed over having my morning disrupted. But Dominique has her moods and sometimes it's just best to go with the flow. Besides, we'd seen so little of each other lately, with her nearly constantly cloistered in meetings during the day and me busy with gallery showings at night. I missed her and it seemed she missed me too.

When she guided my hands down to her thighs I touched her silk clad leg gingerly, careful not to smudge her elegant skirt with my paint spattered hands. The stocking ended in a lacy cuff and I felt bare skin against my fingertips. Dominique wasn't wearing any panties. Noticing my hesitation, she obligingly hiked her skirt upward, revealing a slender garter belt. God she is sexy. I wasn't really into lingerie until I met Dominique, but she taught me how much fun those little bits of silk and satin can be. I wasn't surprised to find the cleft between her legs was already damp. She'd planned this encounter anticipating every move and it had excited her.

"You know what I want, Andrea," she said as she pushed me gently to my knees.

It occurred to me to protest that this wasn't the time or the place, a client might walk in. But the aching need that was building inside of me as I ran my fingers along the cuffs of those lacy black stockings and over the creamy smooth skin of Dominique's hairless pubic mound overruled my better judgement. If it was a quickie she wanted, then it was a quickie Dominique would get. I knelt on the hard concrete floor, wrapped my hands around the luscious swell of her hips and pressed my lips against the inside of her thigh.

She hissed as my kisses began to travel upward. My tongue flicked to her liquid center and I tasted her excitement. As I alternated long stokes using the flat of my tongue with quick deeper thrusts, she clutched at my hair urging me on. "Oh yes, my darling! Mmmm, don't stop!"

I wanted to tease, to prolong the pleasurable torment. But Dominique was already too far aroused. When I flicked her clitoris, she shuddered helplessly. Knowing she was too close to the edge to be denied, I took the swollen nub between my lips and sucked.

Her hands went round my ears and she pulled my face against her baby soft skin. I opened my jaw and lapped as she came, her juices overflowing, She pushed me away after what seemed like an eternity and I wiped my mouth absently on the back of my hand. There was a streak of blue paint against the creamy white of her thigh and I brushed it away.

Looking up at Dominique like that, her conservative business clothes all askew, was getting me pretty hot. I tried to pull her down onto the floor next to me. She shook her head 'no' and began straighten her clothing.

"You're not going," I protested. Even if she were planning on making it up to me later, I couldn't believe she'd use me like that and leave.

She glanced at her watch "Gregory will be here for me in five minutes."

I took the hint. My jeans joined the smock on the floor and for good measure I stripped off my shirt.

Dominique gave me an approving smile. I took the hand she offered to me and she pulled me into another embrace that ended with me cradled against her chest.

Once again her hands roved over my body. With her lips suckling my left earlobe, one hand alternating caressing and kneading my bare breasts, and the other working efficiently between my legs, I didn't stand a chance. Within a minute, I arched helplessly against her, crying out as my pleasure centers overloaded.

She helped me to a chair, kissed me on the top of the head and checked her watch again. "I've got to go," she announced. "I'll call you from Paris." There was a twinkle in her deep green eyes as she said, "I'll definitely bring you a present when I return." A minute later, she was gone.

I picked up my discarded clothes and started to slip the tee shirt over my head. I touched myself where she had touched me moments before, becoming aroused all over again. I flipped the lock on the studio door, leaned against the cold steel plate and let my hands become hers until I climaxed a second time.

Strangely enough, I didn't feel much like working after that. I finished dressing, washed my brushes and put away my paints. I spent the next several hours combing the shops putting together a special gift for Dominique.

Andrea set down her pen and picked up a dark green satin teddy. "Today was fun, Domi, but just wait until next time. No business meeting is going to hold a candle to what I've got planned for you."

With a mischievous smile, the artist dropped the undergarment on top of her journal and snapped off the bedside lamp.

The End