Boiling Point

By Mercedes Del Ray

A hard working American woman with a good job that comes with a boss who likes to work her very hard, Hazel has little time for herself. On the surface she appears to be happy, but behind this confident exterior hides someone who is deeply self-conscious about her size.

When she visits England for a much needed holiday, she sees a film clip of a well-known British chef on the flight over to Heathrow. She is so attracted to this man that she enrols on a cookery course run by him, even though she has found out from her British cousin that he is as well known for his sexual proclivities, as he is for his Michelin standard cooking.

When Lloyd Holst makes it clear that the attraction is mutual, Hazel is unable to resist him even though she knows his reputation. He has a dominant personality whilst Hazel has been taught to answer back and be assertive, so their developing relationship is fiery. However as much as the couple argue, Lloyd’s appreciation of her culinary skills and full figure, challenge her poor self-image and conservative dress sense as he introduces her to new experiences beyond her wildest dreams. But will she submit to him in the way he wants her to?

This short story contains swearing and sexual content. It is aimed at a mature audience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mercedes Del Ray
• Release date: May 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310976896

Mercedes Del Ray

Mercedes Del Ray was born in London to British parents. The less said about her education the better. After she discovered boys, alcohol and cigarettes at the age of around thirteen, any hopes her father and mother might have had that she would excel academically were dashed.After leaving school, she spent many years working and travelling around the world before settling back in the UK. Along the way she has known many men and has been in a couple of long relationships - with a colourful selection of short term flings.Some of the events she relates in her written works are inspired by her own experiences, others are the product of her fertile and filthy imagination.

Book preview

Boiling Point

Mercedes Del Ray

Copyright © Mercedes Del Ray 2014

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction which makes reference to real locations in London. However, the main characters and their experiences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is for Phil xxx

Index

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter One

Hazel sighed as the tiresome elderly man seated next to her, stroked her knee once again. Removing his hand, she told him in no uncertain terms she didn’t want to talk to him, and asked him to stop touching her up.

Reaching for her headphones, she connected them to the in-flight entertainment system, and flicked through the films and news items looking for something to watch. Anything to block out the inane chatter of the idiot beside her. When she discovered a clip about a famous English chef, it held her attention - the sight of him kneading bread dough turned her on so much, her nipples were showing through her top. As her unwanted admirer thought she’d had a change of heart, he renewed his attempts to chat her up. She gave him the brush off once again in no uncertain terms, wondering if he would ever get the message. Having told him he was a dirty old man, she was unable to take her eyes off the screen until the clip had finished!

Later on at dinner time when she read on the first class menu that the meals had been developed by this same chef, she ate everything that had been put in front of her, even though she normally hated plane food. From that moment on, she was determined to at least have dinner in his hotel restaurant.

A few days later, Hazel got on to a Piccadilly line tube heading westwards, and thought about the random chain of events that had occurred on her flight over to Heathrow a few days before. She was still sad that she wouldn’t be able to get a reservation for dinner, at Lloyd Holst’s restaurant while she was in London. However, when she’d discovered that he ran regular cookery courses, she was delighted to find out that there would be one going on while she was in England – and get a place on it.

Now she was about to have a complimentary afternoon tea at The Almond Tree Hotel. She felt so excited she could hardly think straight. Even better she would also be meeting Lloyd Holst in person, before attending the classes run by him, the following week.

Once she got off the tube, she strolled the short distance to the hotel, thinking about food and her relationship with it. After trying every diet that had ever been created, she’d almost given up on trying to control her weight. She’d not been too bad in London because she’d been exercising, while she walked between the various tourist attractions. It had compensated for the amount she was eating – at least she had not gained any more pounds.

Hazel quit worrying about her size when she walked into the opulent lobby area of the hotel. She caught her breath as she glanced up at the ornate ceiling. Once she’d freshened herself up, she stood and checked her reflection in the mirror. Five-feet ten tall, with long dark hair, loose clothing covered her ample curves. Flat shoes and a small leather handbag, completed the conservative look she preferred for every day. She decided her appearance wasn’t too bad at all.

When she went to enquire at reception, as to where she should go to join the other students for afternoon tea, she was directed to a small anti-room. As she went in, she said hello to the four other people already waiting there and when they responded, realised she was the only American in the room. However, the five of them didn’t have time to start a conversation due to the arrival of the great man.

As Lloyd Holst walked in she was startled at the sight of him. She’d already seen how good looking he was when watching the in-flight film, but nothing could have prepared her for meeting him in the flesh for the first time – she felt as if a bolt of electricity had passed through her. He was probably over six-feet tall and powerfully built, with slightly wavy, thick auburn hair which could have done with having a comb run through it, - the stubble on his chin needed a razor. His spotless chef’s whites did redeem his rather dissipated appearance somewhat, although he looked rather tired. Even so, Hazel wondered if anyone dared to tell him to get a haircut.

When he said hello and welcomed the group to the hotel, she heard an accent she couldn’t quite identify, as he invited them through to another room next door. The six of them sat and chatted. Hazel tried not to stare as she clenched her thighs, while her pussy began to leak. She couldn’t stop thinking about what it might be like to have sex with him. The man had such an animal like charisma that it was impossible not to be bowled over by him. For once in her life, not even the sight of the cakes and pastries on the tea trolley, distracted her from her thoughts. The main thing running through her imagination, was what it would be like to be screwed by Lloyd Holst until she begged him to stop.

Even though she’d been warned by her English cousin Sarah, of his reputation with women - which he was as well-known for as the standard of his cooking, the information hadn’t put her off him. After reading about his three wives, and endless dates with famous models and actresses, she knew what sort of man he was, and the details of his famously alternative sexual tastes. And resigned herself to the fact that