Sensation Fantasies 2

by Knight, Kimberly

  He reached up and slid the black jacket off of my shoulders. “I want to taste you.”

  I didn’t hesitate because I wanted that too. I was tired of all the scripted sex I was having. I wanted to live in the moment, and I knew that I could with this stranger.

  “Okay.”

  He smirked, and I thought he was going to take off his mask and at least kiss me. Instead, he said, “Lean back.”

  I did. A breeze blew across my lace covered pussy, but I didn’t have time to shiver before he hooked his thumbs into the sides of the panties and slid them down my legs.

  “You smell so good. My mouth is already watering.” I swallowed again because I had no words as I put my feet on the edge of the cushion and opened for him. “I would take my time, but I need to taste your pussy and make you come before I lose my mind.”

  “Yes,” I breathed and closed my eyes, waiting for the moment his mouth would be on me. I could feel the coolness of his mask against my thighs as he leaned forward. He spread the lips of my pussy, and the instant his tongue ran up my slit, I moaned, arching my back.

  “Better than I’d imagined.”

  I didn’t respond as I enjoyed the feeling of his tongue working me. The thought of not knowing who it was only made me pant harder. My legs opened wider, giving this stranger easier access. He took the hint, adding fingers and pumping into me while his tongue flicked my clit.

  “Do you come for real on stage?” he asked while he still used his fingers.

  I hesitated for a moment and then answered honestly, “No.”

  “Are you going to come for me? Come all over my fingers as they’re buried deep inside of you?”

  “Yes,” I panted. There was something stirring inside of me fast because no-strings-attached fucking with someone you didn’t know, didn’t care to find out who, and would never see again, was always a fantasy of mine. I had lived in Kirbyville, where everyone knew everyone. That was part of the reason why I’d moved.

  My hands clenched the cushions as I felt my orgasm building. Acting both on set and at Sensation was very robotic in a way. On set was more so because everything was shot to look sexy and from every angle. Sex at Sensation may look erotic, but it was still planned. Even though I loved my co-workers, I couldn’t sit back and enjoy the pleasure.

  But I could with this stranger.

  “I’m going to engrave your come face into my memory, and when I’m at home and alone, I’m going to stroke myself remembering your pants and moans and how you taste fucking sweet like a peach,” he stated.

  I moaned at his words, the sound of my arousal filling the air, and I kept my eyes closed as I felt him adjust as though he was looking at me.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he stated.

  The quaking in my stomach was intense as I held on, riding out each pump of his fingers. I was going to combust—a tidal wave of arousal was going to shoot out of me the moment I fell from the cliff.

  “Close,” I panted.

  “That’s it, Ayla. Squeeze my fucking fingers.”

  I had a moment of pause—a very slight moment—when he said my name. I hadn’t realized he knew it, but before I could question how he knew, I came, moaning and clenching his long fingers inside of me.

  My eyes were still closed as I felt him remove his fingers and lower his masked face, tonguing me, drinking my arousal. I opened my eyes and looked down between my parted legs as he lifted his head to stare back at me. My heart stopped as I realized the mask was crooked and showing more of his face.

  A face I knew.

  A face I never thought I’d see at Sensation.

  A face that instantly infuriated me.

  “Are you fucking serious, Walker?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Walker

  Before I realized what was happening, Ayla was pushing herself back and out of arm’s reach. Her anger lit up her face as she spat at me.

  “It’s okay,” I stated, holding out my hands in surrender. The hard-on that I was sporting was starting to go down and what I thought was going to happen next was obviously not going to happen if I couldn’t talk her off of the ledge.

  “It’s not okay.”

  “Why not?”

  She snorted. “Because … because you tricked me!”

  I sat on the end of the lounge chair and slipped my mask off. “And how did I do that?”

  “You”—she waved her hand between us—“seduced me!”

  “Yeah?” I smirked. I wasn’t trying to be cocky, but I had seduced her. I’d wanted her, and I had made that clear. I still wanted her. Sure, I knew she hadn’t known it was me, but that wasn’t my fault. I’d tried to show her, but she told me to leave the mask on.

  “What do you mean ‘yeah’?” Ayla crossed her arms over her chest as though to cover herself up. As if I hadn’t fucking seen her pussy up close and personal, or seen her in her bra and panties all night while she’d served food.

  “Baby—”

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me,” she snapped.

  I took a deep breath. “Fine, but don’t fucking blame this on me. I tried to show you it was me.”

  She stared at me, not saying anything for several seconds. “Is this a game to you?”

  I blinked. “What? No!”

  “How am I supposed to believe you?”

  “Because I didn’t know you fucking worked here until I saw you, Ayla.”

  She stood and grabbed her panties from the ground, stepping into them. “This was a mistake.”

  I stood, trying to prevent her from leaving. I didn’t want her to go. I wanted to talk it out. I was attracted to her, and it wasn’t a game. “Why?”

  She started to walk away. “Because.”

  I grabbed her wrist and spun her. “Because why?”

  Ayla shook her head slightly and blew out a breath. “Because what I told you earlier was true.”

  I tried to quickly rack my brain of what that meant, of what she had said, but I couldn’t remember anything that would be a red flag. “I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

  “I told you that I was okay with this being for tonight because I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Because of my mask?”

  “Yes, because of your mask!”

  “You told me to keep it on,” I reminded her. “I wanted you to know it was me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” I repeated.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “So this”—I motioned between us—“wouldn’t happen.”

  Ayla paused for a moment and looked off to the side. “I know. Can we just—just forget this happened?”

  I grunted. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

  She turned her head to face me. “Look, Walker. I get it. You joined a sex club to have all the wild sex without fear of someone taking your picture or telling the world, but I came from a small town in Texas, and I finally have my dream acting job. I don’t want to jeopardize that by people assuming I want something from you.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, Ayla would think like everyone else in the world. On the outside, it may look as though I was a playboy, but it was only because I hadn’t found the right one. I was building my career. My parents were A-list actors, and I had been working since I was born, but I was trying to do things on my own. I wanted parts because I was good, not because I was a Payne.

  “I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I would never do that to you. You’re an amazing actress, and I’ve enjoyed working with you. Plus, we signed NDAs.”

  “I know, and thank you, but I still think this was a mistake. If things were to go awry—”

  “Awry?” I chuckled. “Give me a fucking break, Ayla. You don’t even know me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just want to keep it professional.”

  I was starting to get angry. I hated being judged for no fucking reason, so I took a step forward and got in her face. “All right, fine, but just remember that this is on you.”
I pointed my finger at her. “I tried to tell you who I was before you said you wanted to talk. Maybe then you would have given me a real chance. I’ll see you on set.”

  I moved around her and walked to the mansion. The next scene we were filming was going to be heated between Tim and Tiffany. I’d wanted to make our fake on-screen sex scenes more believable, but now it was going to be a very realistic fight scene.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ayla

  It was all my fault.

  I’d made a mistake when I told Walker to leave his mask on. I knew I had overreacted, but it was because I was scared I would get my heart broken. He was an unobtainable actor, and now that he wasn’t so off limits, it freaked me out. I thought there was something behind his motives, and I didn’t know what, but the more I thought about that night, the more I doubted myself.

  All members and employees had to sign NDAs, and I knew deep down that Walker wouldn’t tell anyone about our time together, but it still worried me. I didn’t want to fall head over heels in love with him, have him dump me for a supermodel, and then continue having to work with him. I needed to be on my A-game, show the director and everyone else that they were right to cast me as Tiffany Thompson.

  But I couldn’t get Walker off my mind.

  Lucky for both of us, we could put our frustration, anger, and passion into our performances …

  I smile at my mom as she sticks her head into my childhood bedroom. “Almost ready?” she asks.

  “Almost,” I reply and finish putting on my lipstick.

  “Great, Barb and Marcus have a holiday party every year, and I’m excited that your father’s office party doesn’t fall on the same night this year, so we can go to their party.”

  My character was on winter break from college and had gone home like she’d done every year. It was the first year they would attend the party, and Tiffany was excited to let off some steam. She was majoring in advertising, and half of her final year of college was over. Plus, she was still high on the one-night stand she had at the frat party. She’d found it fun and carefree to have sex with the most sought-after guy at the party.

  It was ironic that I’d almost had sex with the most sought-after actor under twenty-five. It made me nervous to think about it. Since Walker walked away that night, I hadn’t seen him, and I had no idea what he was thinking.

  I would see him soon though …

  Dad parks the car in front of a house with no lights on. “Are you sure this is it?” I ask.

  He looks at me through the rearview mirror. “No, it’s down the street. Don’t you remember?”

  I blink. “Remember?”

  “You babysat their son and daughter.”

  “Right,” I say. It had been almost eight years since I’d babysat for them. I was a freshman in high school at the time. Their son was nine, and their daughter was five. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Cut!” Mike yelled.

  We took a short break to get ready for the next scene. I still hadn’t seen Walker, but I would …

  I’m dressed in a red cocktail dress as we walk down the street. “The houses are starting to look familiar,” I say.

  “How do you feel about being the designated driver?” Dad asks as he wraps an arm around my shoulders.

  “Of course.”

  “Now don’t go and get hammered, honey,” Mom scolds. “You know you can’t hold your liquor like you used to.”

  “Everything will be fine, Vic,” he replies. “I just want a few drinks, and I want to make sure Tiff knows she’s driving us home.”

  “It’s fine.” I smile.

  We walk up to the door. You can hear holiday music through the wood as Dad knocks. It opens, and Tim Smith is standing on the other side. Our eyes lock, and both widen.

  “Tim!” Dad beams. “You’ve grown into a fine young man.” Dad turns to me. “You remember my daughter, Tiffany. She babysat you a few times.”

  Tim is speechless.

  I’m speechless.

  “You might not remember,” Mom says. “It was several years ago, and you were only a boy.”

  A pause.

  Tim clears his throat. “No, I don’t remember.”

  “Cut!” Mike shouted. “That look you guys shared was perfect. Totally believable. Good job, you two.”

  I stared at Walker as everyone started moving about to get ready for the next scene or to do another take of the current one—I wasn’t sure what was next because all I could focus on was the man in front of me. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for the other night, sorry for overreaching, but before I could, he walked away.

  While I was getting my makeup touched up, I was staring into the mirror hoping I’d see Walker. Tiffany and Tim were about to have a conversation—a conversation that was eerily similar to the one Walker and I needed to have, and I wasn’t sure how it was going to go.

  I walked toward where I needed to be on set, but my feet faltered when I finally saw Walker. He turned, winked at me, and then bit into what looked like a peach. “I’m going to engrave your come face into my memory, and when I’m at home and alone, I’m going to stroke myself remembering your pants and moans and how you taste fucking sweet like a peach.” Did that mean he wasn’t mad at me? Or was he trying to push my buttons to see how I would react?

  I walked toward him and stood in my position where the scene was going to take place. “Walker.” I gave a curt nod.

  He bit into the peach again, and with a mouthful, he said, “Ayla.”

  “Did you have a good night last night?”

  He arched a brow. “I did, for the most part.”

  I grinned. “Me too.”

  He grunted and swallowed the fruit. “Really?”

  “For the most part.”

  “Places everyone!”

  “Are you ready to do this, Wildcat?”

  I snorted. “Wildcat?”

  He took a step forward and whispered into my ear, “Isn’t that your high school mascot?”

  It was, but how did he know? I tried to think about everything that I’d told him at Sensation, and I didn’t remember telling him the actual town I was from. But my bio was online. Did that mean he looked me up? That after Sensation he had thought about me? I’d expected him to hook up with someone else—one of his model girlfriends on speed dial—and not think about little ol’ me.

  Before I could respond, Walker walked away. Wanting the last word seemed to be his MO. We got into our places for the scene, and I took a deep breath …

  I walk up to the bar that was set up in the dining room, wanting to take a shot of anything, but I had promised my dad that I would be the designated driver. “Diet Coke, please,” I order.

  “Not drinking tonight?” Tim asks as he steps up beside me.

  I look up at him. “No. My parents want me to be the DD.”

  “Ah.” He rubs the back of his neck, and there’s an awkward moment of silence as the bartender slides the soda in front of me. “Do we need to talk?”

  “I don’t know what there is to talk about,” I reply and take a sip of my soda as I walk away from the bar.

  The way Walker was looking into my eyes wasn’t acting unless he was Oscar-worthy—which he was—but I thought we were both going to take this time to get it off our chests by yelling and using our frustration to show what we really felt even though we had a script to follow. I was going to pay attention to his body language and not the actual words that I already knew he was going to say.

  He takes a sip of whatever he’s drinking as we stop near the Christmas tree. “Maybe the fact that you used to babysit me, and we had no idea.”

  I sigh. “It’s not like we’re that far off in age.”

  “No, but you don’t find that weird?”

  “It doesn’t matter because it will never happen again.”

  As I uttered my line, my heart clenched in my chest. I couldn’t explain why, but the thought of never getting to kiss or be with Walker literally pained me. What
would have happened if I hadn’t overreacted? What would have happened if I would have let him take his mask off?

  He stares at me for a moment and then smirks. “But you had fun.”

  The look on Walker’s face was cocky because he knew the answer in real life and for our fake bathroom hook-up.

  “It was sex at a party.”

  He steps closer and whispers, “And we’re at a party now.”

  “I’m sorry but this”—I motion between us—“can’t happen again.”

  “It’s just sex.”

  I snort. “You were just acting like this was weird.”

  “I was trying to see if you thought it was weird because I want to do it again.”

  “Our parents are here.”

  “And?”

  “And our parents are here,” I repeat.

  “And we’re at my house. I have a room upstairs.”

  “Is that all you think about?”

  He grunts. “You mean sex?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m a college student. Of course, it is.” I stare up at him, and he continues, “Just admit it—you had fun, and you want to do it again.”

  I swallow. “I used to babysit you.”

  “Tiff, it’s not like you changed my shitty diapers. We’re both adults.”

  I start to shake my head, but he steps forward, and his lips crash against mine.

  “Cut!” Mike yelled. “What was that, Walker?”

  I was stunned as Walker’s lips pulled away. Kissing me wasn’t in the script, but I would never admit that I loved the unexpectedness of it.

  Walker winked at me before he turned to Mike. “I thought the scene needed more. Tiffany was about to turn Tim down for a dumb reason.”

  “You think it’s dumb that she doesn’t want to have sex with him because she used to babysit him?” I questioned.

  Walker smirked. “They already did it. There’s no going back now.”

  Mike furrowed his brows. “Did you forget that they do go upstairs?”

  Walker looked at me and grinned wider. “Nope.”

  “Okay, I don’t know what went through your head, but let’s do it again and leave the kissing for later,” Mike instructed.