by Rev Mel
I was not aware that Alan was married until one night out to dinner we ran into one of his wife’s friends while having dinner. But by that time I was hooked and found it hard to tell Alan no. He had the same kind of relationship with his wife that my mother and father had. It was all show to keep up the image to their society friends that they were all a happily married couple. When you live in a 4.7 million dollar house it’s hard to walk away from it, believe I know because of my parents. It's called the Beverly Hills marriage game and guess who wins? No one.
Wishing that I could run away, the waiter came to my rescue as we ordered dinner. I could see Alan looking at me still from the corner of my eye as I tried forcing myself into conversation with Michael. I was on a tightrope ready to fall off. Alan’s stare was intense and I yearned to escape it.
Touching Michael’s hand, I stated that I needed to go to the powder room. Standing up in a daze, I excused myself from the table, ran past the bar, and I headed upstairs to the restroom, not even looking back at Alan. Shaking with fear, I do not remember how I even made it to the ladies’ room. Closing the door, I started to tremble as tears flowed from my eyes. My face was flushed when I looked into the mirror. It hurt so much to see Alan with his wife. Seeing him with her always broke my heart in two. I have spent the last ten years sharing him with her and it seems like the pain will never cease.
Staying in the restroom trying to compose myself, I had hoped that when I returned to my table Alan would be gone. The minutes flew by as I started to calm down and breathing was coming more easily. I knew I had to return to Michael, so I fixed my makeup and headed out the door into the hallway. Suddenly, I felt a hand pull my arm toward the entrance of the antique telephone booth that was directly across from the ladies’ room. Blood rushed to my heart as he kissed me. Locking me into his arms, I smelled the familiar scent of his Chanel cologne. My hands touched his thick salt-and-pepper hair and I melted into his torso. The name Alan escaped softly from my lips. As we kissed, I felt the warmth of his body as he pressed up against me. With his 6'8” frame, he overpowered the space in the little booth. Closing the glass door, he locked us in as if the outside world no longer existed.
The urgent feeling of exploration overcame our bodies and our passion went wild as we touched in complete abandon. Waves of ecstasy washed through us as we kissed in heavy exchanges. We felt each other’s racing hearts as we immersed our bodies. Our bodies felt like they floated off to heaven. The tight space beckoned our bodies to push closer as sensations surged through our beings. Excited rhythms moved through our interiors while we kissed and touched each other’s bodies through our clothing.
I felt my nipples protruding out to him while his chest rubbed against my awakening breasts. Reaching up, I touched his clean-shaven face as the smell of Chanel danced through my senses. Breathing in the aroma, sparks of pleasure rebelled within my wanting flesh. The sensuality and hunger of our sexual impulse humidified the meager space. My torso reacted to his scent, sending electrical charges running through my cells, and each nerve ending became aware of his aroma. Minute sparks of passion flowed from his lips.
Looking into his eyes, I saw the excitement of danger reflecting back at me. With his wife and my date sitting downstairs tasting the fine cuisine, we knew that at any moment they could discover us. Our breathing slowed to sharp pauses and our lips embraced in touch. The tenderness of his fingertips touched my willing body’s shell, releasing the Bohemian freedom that lay dormant within my soul.
The dim overhead light created a soft shadow on his exquisite face as his eyes glowed in wanting. Alan’s arms held me close, his body never parting from mine. He pushed me up against the mahogany wood wall inside the booth.
The back of his warm hand lovingly touched the side of my face as I closed my eyes in pleasure. Then his fingers slid down my neck, moving lower and lower as his hands softly touched my breast and down to my nipple. Tossing my head back as he stroked my breast, time seemed to stand still. He then set free my buttons, one by one. Unhooking the front clasp of my lacy black bra, I felt his hands touch my sizzling skin. I melted in his gentle touch as he worshiped my throbbing flesh and lowered his lips down to my neck, tasting my warm, sweet flesh. His touch released a primal form of a sexual obsession throughout my soul. Turning my head side to side, he kissed my neck and took us beyond a state of being. The certainty of being caught heightened our passion. There was no turning back now.
Touching the coarse material of his finely tailored suit jacket, I grabbed to find the buttons on his crisp, white Armani shirt. Opening the front, I felt the soft hair that covered his masculine chest. Hot for each other, we were in utter sensual bliss; touching each other’s burning bodies. Moving his head further down, his lip clasped onto my hard nipples. Alan’s tongue glided over the tip, touching what seemed to be the source of my sexual hunger. The grace of his full lips sent sexual impulses to every vein and cell in my body. Alan had the key to arouse my body like no other man or woman. I became alive in his presence, while flames of joy signed every nerve within my being. As he honored my throbbing nipples with his skilled tongue, my hidden opening became wet with a sweet sensation. Silence overcame us as his flickering tongue tasted my quivering bare flesh. His hands lovingly caressed my breast and thin waist, as I stroked his silver-and-black silky hair. Touching my very soul, he was becoming wilder as his sexual energy liberated him.
Alan’s eyes darkened with dangerous passion as he pulled his face up to mine and looked into my fevered eyes. He was losing control and I knew he wanted me right there, in the telephone booth. The veins on his neck were sticking out as blood rushed madly throughout his hard muscular body. Feeling Alan’s prominent bone, hard as stone against my swollen clitoris, I knew he was on an illuminated path. There was no stopping him from falling deeper into his current state of erotic passion. He had to have me. The restaurant downstairs no longer existed in his mind; only the rush of mad euphoria seemed to matter.
In our state of sexual wanting, the rapid beat of his heart was felt throughout both of our bodies. I stroked his hidden member, over his clothing, with my grasping hand. Slowly, I unzipped Alan’s trousers and my hand felt his manly organ against my warm palm. Frozen in sheer pleasure, Alan’s pulse screeched as I moved my head further down to his swollen member. When my lips touched the tip of his hard cock, it was almost enough to send him over the edge of sexual frenzy. His resistance was weak. My mouth sent bolts of electricity throughout his quivering body. Allowing himself to be reckless, his senses fed off the sheer sensuality of the moment. His swollen penis, stretching itself to its limits, released a drop of clear liquid at the tip, exposing his vulnerability to our sexual exchange. As his breathing became more rapid and shorter I knew he was at the breaking point, about to release his storm into my scorched mouth. His body started thrashing about as our passion permeated the small booth. Alan’s hands moved through my long blonde hair and pushed his swollen organ yet deeper into my mouth. Moans of exhilaration escaped from his lips which let me know he was close to release. He continued to act like he was in control of himself, yet I knew better. He could not take it anymore as he pulled himself out of my parted lips. When I looked in his eyes, they revealed our danger. He needed to be between my wet, hot entrance that was hidden between my closed legs.
Pulling my body up, he grabbed me, pressing my lips to his. His wild hands, moving under my skirt, ripped my nylon pantyhose in two. He sat down on the little wooden bench like a lightning bolt and sat me down on his swollen member. Straddling him, he buried his cock deep inside my sultry, wet, unfolding lips that lead to the center of my soul. Deep inside my ever-growing flower, I felt Alan’s insatiable sexual appetite. Silver lights passed through my eyes as my lover filled my deep chamber with his beating rod. As a rush of a wild longing shot through the both of us, I rode him like there was no tomorrow; only this moment in time mattered.
Alan’s sweet voice whispered, “I love you,” in my ear. He felt the wetnes
s of my interior drip unmercifully around his well-developed organ. We pushed our minds, bodies, and souls beyond that special place as we rode on the crest of ecstasy. Moving back and forth, rubbing our heated contours against one another, we moved faster and faster to create absolute bliss in a moment of passionate release. Intensely wild orgasms consumed our sensitive flesh and our breathing was hot and heavy. Perspiration ran down the sides of our cheeks like small pearls. Our orgasms struck like thunderbolts as Alan’s arms held me close to his steaming body. Alan let out cries of release as my body came with him. We let go of complete control. As the world stood still, I was his in this moment of lustful climax. We were suspended in the radiance and glow of our orgasm, which unleashed every fiber of our being. Once again, fusing our sexual souls together, we rocked and rocked our pelvises until all the waves subsided.
Alan held me closely, kissing my warm neck with his sensual lips. Sharing a moment, silence dominated while we held each other’s sweltering bodies. The booth’s heat engulfed us as we both realized that we had to let go of each other. I wanted to stay in the small telephone booth forever as sadness overwhelmed us. We could feel the temperature change drastically. Looking in his big brown eyes, I placed my fingertips over his tender lips, shook my head and whispered, “shhh.”
I opened the door of the booth and the cool air hit us on our warm, glowing skin. Alan whispered in my ear, “I love you.” Sadness showed in his eyes, as I looked at him. I kissed his lips softly and slowly climbed off of him, leaving him in the telephone booth. Walking toward the ladies’ room door, I turned to look at him and smiled; “I love you too,” echoed from my lips. As I walked through the door and closed it tightly, leaving him outside, a part of my soul died.
Looking in the mirror, I took my time to put myself back together. On my way back down the stairs, I wondered if Alan was still here. Still feeling his touch, chills ran through my awakened cells. I was in despair, knowing that my heart and soul belonged to Alan. Reaching my table, the food had already been served and was getting cold. My date questioned me on why it took so long. I smiled and said that I needed to make a phone call. A little giggle escaped my throat; if only he knew what had really happened upstairs. Turning my head in the direction of Alan’s table, I was happy to see that it was empty. A calmness came over me slowly, as my body tried to calm the sizzling emotions that had raced down my spine just minutes before. Smiling, I tried to concentrate my energy on Michael and our dinner, but my mind was still upstairs in the antique telephone booth wrapped in Alan’s arms. A warm smile came to my lips as my thoughts commenced to wander.
Chapter 4 The Barber Shop
It's amazing -- I had always known it was here, just a few blocks from Neiman Marcus. In the olden days, my father used to come here every Saturday. As a child, I played outside by the antique barber pole, while my father pampered himself with a shave, haircut, and a manicure. The shop was not very different from what I remembered, essentially unchanged throughout the years. Varnished oak walls and mirrored stations, still polished to a bright shine, lined the room. In the waiting room, the big quilted leather chairs still make me feel like a little girl whenever I sit in them. A collection of vintage razors and shaving brushes in a glass case bring patrons back to the lost tonsorial art of Barbering. Pictures of old movie stars and other famous personalities are displayed on the walls. The aromas of cigars and bay rum still linger in the air; I remember the masculine scent from childhood. In its time, this was the place to be seen. Former presidents, movie moguls, and gangsters like Bugsy Siegel frequented this place in its heyday. You can feel a part of history here. It makes you wonder what Hollywood stars or celebrities have walked through these doors. This Beverly Hills barbershop was the playroom for the rich and powerful of movie land. It was a time long ago when men were called "Dappers" and mistresses were called "Ladies."
My father was fond of this barber shop when he was alive. I remember him sitting in one of those big old barber chairs, lying on his back with hot towels steaming his face. The spacious, luxurious chairs were made of deep brown leather that invited you to take a seat. Highly polished brass covered the footrest and the headrest was a soft cushion of leather. Barber chairs like these are no longer made. When you sat in them, they made you feel like you were a celebrity. The new ones of today do not compare to the 1950's style or comfort. This was also the barbershop that I met Alan the first time when I went with my father that sunny afternoon.
My nephew who was visiting from New York looked so little in the big barber chair, as the handsome barber with long brown hair cut his locks of gold. Sitting, watching the barber trim my nephew's hair, I was getting excited. His long lean fingers stroked my little darling's hair. My eyes studied him carefully. I felt my body getting warm as I observed in hot intense emotion. Fantasizing in my mind that the barber was touching me, I could feel myself getting wet. I could feel his fingers move through my blonde hair, as I let my erotic imagination run wild. I smiled at him when he turned and looked my way. His eyes seem to transcend a radiant glow, as he smiled back.
His jeans were tight around his long legs and high buttocks. They were firm and hard. He had muscular thighs from standing for so many years. As I watched, his well-developed biceps moved in a dance-like motion; it sent quivers down the center of my spine. I needed to be satisfied. I could feel the pearl between my thighs move in a surrealistic shudder. The need to feel his hands on my body overwhelmed me as I had an urgent desire to feel the curves of his body and the bulge that was imprisoned in his tight blue jeans. I wanted him.
I felt his masculine skin as he handed me the bill and whispered in my ear, "I'm closing the shop at eight P.M. tonight, I'd love to take you out for a drink." With a slight touch, he gently pressed the tips of his fingers to mine. Just then, a faint blush covered my face. His sexual energy created a great rumble inside me. I turned away from his stare, afraid to surrender my eyes to his. There was an undeniable wave of tension exchanged between us. We knew we had to taste each other's body. There was an unforgettable hunger burning inside my deep chamber. Mortified that sexual intensity showed on my face, I nervously paid my bill. Not looking back, I left with great regret as the door closed behind me with my nephew in tow. My knees were weak from the energetic random sexual meeting. He was imprinted in my mind. I knew that I had to have him.
As twilight approached, I returned to him. All day long, I fantasized about this one moment of passionate season. He was alone in the shop, sitting at the front desk. The lights were turned down to a soft dim. Soothing music played in the background. From the look in his eyes, I could see that he knew I would return. Pacing my steps slowly, I walked through the entry and into his waiting arms. A smile came to his impressionable face as he looked at me, surrounding me with his strong arms as I melted into his body. I felt his flat stomach and prominent pelvis rubs up against me. I pressed against him in delight. He held my body as if he would never let it go. Our lips touched in complete abandon. A wave of excitement passed through me, sizzling my body. There was a gnawing ache in my groin. My jeans were wet with excitement. I looked into his big green eyes and saw the lust that was beginning to be energized. The racing beat of his heart was felt through my thin linen blouse. I could feel his heart beating with desire. I immersed myself into his lean, hard body. The intensity grew and grew as we kissed in hot waves of motion. The fevered kisses did not allow us to catch our breath, while his hand soothed my dreamlike body.
As stabs of pleasure ran through our bodies, I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my moist hands over his powerful chest. My fingers got caught in the strands of the soft hair that laced his masculine chest. Moving my hand across his chest, I reached over to one of his nipples. It was hard and calling out to me. I heard him moan. He gripped me harder in an urgent longing. Tasting his silky skin, my hands searched for the other nipple and made lazy little circles around the tip. His body shuddered at my touch.
I lowered my hand down to his firm abs. I could f
eel the ripples of his muscles. Desperately I fumbled with his belt. Spats of pleasure grew inside of me. I was addicted to the texture of his skin. As the heat burned inside of me, I pressed myself up against him. We became one, without beginning and without end. I immersed my body into his. There was no going back. My body embraced his steaming torso.
Sounds of my lover's zipper rang through my ears. I curiously released the pressure of his swollen member. My warm hand slid down his tight, coarse jeans, exposing his fiery hot black underwear. I moved my fingertips further down and felt his manhood beating in my hungry palm. He made wonderful moaning sounds when I stroked his sensitive organ. Waves splashed through his body as I felt him tremble. He closed his eyes as a slight blush passed through his splendid face. I wrapped my long fingers around his growing flower. Seeking his sweet membrane, I wanted to taste his sureness with my lips and tongue as I moved down to the tip of his stem. He held me ever so tightly around my waist. I could not move. Looking into his boyish eyes, I saw a glimmer of playfulness.