Devin and the Playboy

by Kastil Eavenshade

  “I’m hoping for a dance under the Eiffel Tower.” Devin giggled, a mockery to who she was with the insipid girly lilt. “On my birthday, the bed was covered in red rose petals.” Not exactly a lie. Jack had sent a card along with a roomful of roses to apologize for missing her birthday. In anger, she’d ripped the heads off each long stem and threw them on the bed. She made passionate love to one of her many dildos in the scattered remains.

  “How romantic. You are one lucky girl.” Vivian cooed from beside Carmella.

  “You have no idea.” Devin winked. Hope leaped into her throat as she spied Jack shaking hands with Bill Cavendish. The night neared an end, and she wanted to shine on the dance floor with him. Contract be damned, she needed to feel like a true couple. Her heart sank as Jack leaned into Stephan, his finger flicking in her general direction. Any smile she plastered on faded at that moment. Stephan’s dark eyes locked on her as he walked toward her. Jack and his guest disappeared from sight.

  “Looks like the boys aren’t quite through,” Carmella said. “Anyone care to join me in the ladies room? I need to freshen up for the ride home. Ryan likes my lipstick flawless.” She winked.

  The other sheep herded toward Carmella but Devin stayed fastened to her seat. She could barely stand them at the table. In an enclosed space, she just might lose it.

  “Devin?”

  “No thanks, ladies. I’d hate to see all my hard work laid to waste in the limo on the way home.” Devin bit her bottom lip and waved to the ladies leaving the table. The half-drank glass of red wine stared back at her, and Devin drank it down to show the smooth Shiraz who was boss. Stephan’s shadow stretched out in front of her.

  “Let me guess.” Devin swiped Carmella’s forgotten champagne and emptied the glass into her awaiting stomach. “Business calls my dearest husband.”

  “Unfortunately, yes, but—”

  “I know, I know. Clause Number Forty-Five.”

  “Let’s leave a detail like that to ourselves, shall we?”

  “Are we going home without him?” A surrogate husband also had the privilege of a private wing on Jack’s estate. His assistant needed to be at his beck and call at all hours. She and Stephan had warred with each other, trading innuendos back and forth, until the realization that those little sexual jabs were turning into late nights and bulk battery purchases.

  “After a dance, of course.” Stephan held out his hand to her. Such a gentleman.

  “No thanks. I’m not in the mood to grind against my husband’s assistant tonight.” Devin stretched over the table for Vivian’s Chardonnay but Stephan grasped her hand.

  “Your husband’s watching, Devin. Please, for his sake. He truly didn’t want to disappoint you this time.”

  “Or the last time. Or the one before that.” She sighed, getting to her feet without the aid of Stephan’s offered hand. Devin had heard every excuse in the book for Jack to avoid intimate contact. She followed Stephan to the dance floor, her arm circling his waist. They swayed to the slow dance, and she basked in the heat between them. Already her panties were soaked, the growing moisture between her legs. She had abstained from any kind of five-fingered foreplay in case Jack provided her with a bit of long overdue lovemaking. She should have known better. The curve of every muscle on Stephan sank her into the depths she could never swim in.

  Clause Twenty-Two saw to that. At the end of the dance, she left with Stephan. The limo ride in silence was more than she could bear. Uncorking a bottle of wine, she undid her hair and let it fall. Stephan’s jaw clenched as she drank straight from the bottle. What did she care at this point what he thought in the privacy of the limo?

  “So how long have you been working directly for Jack?” Devin sipped an expensive red wine straight from the bottle. Nothing in her lengthy contract said she couldn’t be crass, at least while not in the presence of her husband. Her diamond-studded heels were also kicked off. No use in wearing high heels if she couldn’t employ them in her old lifestyle fashion.

  “I’ve told you that bit of information before.” He poured himself bourbon. Devin smiled and lifted the bottle in a toast.

  “I know but I’m out of conversation, so let’s start again, shall we? And don’t skimp on the details because I’m probably going to pass out and forget every word you said.” The wine rolled down her throat like water flowing through a babbling brook.

  “He hired me about five years ago, but I knew him before that. I just resisted his offers for the position. He’s never been good at organizing and, I must say, the offer to live rent-free was too hard to pass up.” Stephan swirled the glass of aged bourbon in his glass.

  “Here’s to bought and paid for then.” Devin took a generous swing from the bottle. A sigh eased from her lips as her head swam in the pure bliss of drunkenness.

  “It’s not that bad.”

  Devin chuckled. “See this bottle?” Her lips touched the opening before her tongue swirled around the rim. She plunged the neck into her mouth, her stare directly on Stephan. The bottle popped free of her mouth. “That’s the closest I’ve come to giving anything head since the honeymoon over a year ago. What man doesn’t like a good blowjob?”

  “That’s hardly a conversation we should be having.”

  “This is hardly what I thought marriage would be. You can’t have children without actually fucking and I could use a good fuck right now. Maybe you could organize that for me.” Devin leaned back, her legs parted more than a lady’s should be. She half-smiled at the sight of Stephan’s tented pants. It took all her resolve not to perform her bottle act on the real thing. Clause Twenty-Two, her mind chastised her. Slip and fall on a dick and she’d lose everything. Her former boss already said never to crawl back if her deal fell through. Without protection from the unsavory lot in the city, Devin could wind up more than what she bargained for trying her hand at escorting alone. Jack might have promised her money but would he hold up to his side of the bargain if she fucked his assistant?

  She scrambled over to Stephan, straddling his hips, if just to feel his stiffened cock against her still-moist panties. “Driver.” She knocked on the glass, her cleavage in perfect position for her surrogate husband to get a glorious view. The window rolled down with a whirl.

  “Yes, Mrs. Monterey?”

  “Take me to my apartment.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The window closed.

  Reluctantly, Devin slid off Stephan and crawled back to her seat. Her ass swayed a little too much but she wanted her companion for the evening to partake in what she could offer. Could her husband blame his assistant if he lost control on his drunk wife? Could she feign ignorance on the whole thing? She nursed the bottle as well as an alcoholic would, her tongue dancing on her lips to savor each drop.

  Stephan shifted in his seat, and Devin knew she had him right where she wanted. She could almost feel his rigid hard cock slamming into her wet pussy as the limo rolled to a stop outside her old apartment complex.

  “Remember, Stephan. Jack said you had to see me home.” She curled her finger and laughed as she staggered out of the limo. Stephan hustled after her to steady her stance. The doorman glanced down at them.

  “Open the door for Mrs. Monterey.” He snapped his fingers at the doorman. “She’s exhausted.”

  That woke up the snooty doorman and he swung the door wide. A perk of her position but not the one she wished. Devin hung on to her surrogate, playing up the role he branded her with. She swayed against his crotch, barely skirting the rules. As soon as the elevator opened, he nearly carried her to the apartment door. His spare key to her place was already in his hand and in the lock before she had her set out.

  She threw her keys on the small stand in the little hallway leading to the main room. How she missed the open yet compact apartment. The bed sat off to the side of the living room. Only a mass of sheer curtains gave her most intimate place a bit of privacy. She’d converted the small bedroom into her closet instead. Her old lifestyle demanded a huge wardrobe
. The kitchen had all the essentials yet lacked any type of space for a table. She used the counter on the rare occasions she ate in.

  She went directly to the top cabinet and fished out two glasses along with a single malt scotch. That was her preferred victory drink after a long evening of playing someone’s part-time lover. It had sat in the cabinet long enough without her tender loving care. Ice cascaded into the glass from the refrigerator, and she turned to Stephan. He had his hands in his pockets. One of the many tricks she’d seen men do to hide their erection. Too bad Stephan’s package seemed to have the same bulge rate as her husband.

  “Pour us a drink while I change into something more comfortable.” She entered the bedroom, keeping Stephan in view as she slowly undressed. Naked in his view, she stretched to give him every angle of what she had to offer before picking out a deep-blue short dress and a pair of heels that went for days. She tossed the pink dress out into the main living area.

  Her mind tinkered with how important that contract of a lavish lifestyle meant. The apartment certainly wasn’t high class. It functioned for its purpose. A place she slept in and occasionally fucked a client who needed discretion. She smirked as she topped off the glasses. She’d never been on the other end of an affair before. The contract did say he’d take care of her and if he refused to take care of her more carnal needs, she’d find her way to a good cock to ride.

  “Have a drink, Stephan. I insist.” She poked the glass toward him. His jaw hitched but he obeyed. Under the cover of her partition counter, his hands left the sanctity of his pants. Devin swayed past him, her hips brushing against his.

  “How long until my husband finishes with his business?” She stretched out on the bed and sipped her drink.

  Stephan’s shoulders rose and fell. “He’s been trying to pin down Mr. Cavendish for some time.”

  The irritation in his voice was unmistakable. Devin licked her lips before downing the scotch. The small straps of her dress eased off her shoulders just enough to have her breasts near the brink of exposing themselves.

  “I’ve been trying to pin him down myself but alas, here I am.” She hitched her dress up to expose one leg. “I’ve missed the groan of this mattress under me. The one at the house is too quiet for my liking.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she caught a glimpse of his eyes as he glanced away. Those liquid pools brimmed with lust before he looked away.

  “So how long are you supposed to entertain me, Stephan?”

  “Until I escort you home.” He stared intently at his glass of scotch.

  “And if I stay here for the night?”

  Her coy question had him turning to face her. Her mind pored over Clause Twenty-Two. In some countries, the fact that she and Jack hadn’t fucked since the consummation of the marriage would mean that she’d been deprived of her basic needs. She knew, however, that minor details wouldn’t save her from losing everything beyond a small severance package. Enough to live on but not at the level Jack had groomed her into. She had no intention of working as a barista or stripper if she broke the contract.

  Nothing in that retched heap of paper mentioned what would happen if she touched another man. In order to break it legally, she would have to have intercourse with a man or have him between her thighs nibbling at her jewel. Nothing said she couldn’t enjoy the feel of a cock in her hands. Those parts she had read thoroughly. She slid off the bed and walked on all fours toward Stephan. A purr rumbled in her throat as she rubbed her face up his pants. She nuzzled his crotch, smiling as Stephan hissed through his teeth. Devin gathered up her dress but didn’t take it off. She only needed to find the pooling wetness between her thighs. Her fingers lashed her nub as she nipped at Stephan’s erection through his pants.

  “Mrs. Monterey,” Stephan said.

  She ignored his calling. Her tongue glided up his bulge, leaving a trail of moist fabric in her wake. If he wanted her to stop, all he needed to do was take a step to the side. She swirled her tongue between the fold of his pants and caught the zipper in her teeth. She tugged. The delightful sound of metal ripping apart was music to her ears. Her hand brushed aside her wet panties to claim a better hold on her clit.

  Her tongue sought his hardened shaft, the cotton fabric of his boxers impeding her progress. To her dismay, he stumbled back from her prodding. His cheeks were flush, and his chest heaved, but he didn’t attempt to zipper his pants.

  “You know we can’t do this.” He shook his head.

  Devin stood and let her dress fall to the floor. “There’s nothing in the contract about this.” She yanked his pants down and wrapped her hand around his erect shaft. She stroked his cock, smiling as he shuddered to her touch. “Tell me this doesn’t feel good. You’ve read the contract, Stephan.” Her words purred from her lips. “I can do this as many times as I want. You’d like me to, wouldn’t you?”

  Stephan gripped the counter behind him and she glided her hand faster as she tightened her grip.

  “Imagine my mouth around that cock of yours.” She slowly licked her lips and his breath hitched. “Sucking you hard. Or maybe you’d like to ram your cock into my pussy hard and fast.” She grinned, her palm becoming slick with his pre-cum. “Or would you rather pound my ass good and hard?”

  Stephan shoved her hand away and staggered to the side of her breakfast bar. “I can’t let you do this.” He pulled his pants up and zipped them.

  “I won’t tell if you don’t. Besides, Section Three about covers this. It’s not oral or intercourse. Just my hand on your cock doing something you obviously enjoy as much as me.” Still in her favorite little fuck-me pumps, she stepped away from the pile of blue and headed to the side of the bed naked. She wasn’t waiting to get home to find her release. If Stephan refused to play along, she’d find her own way. She jerked open the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a generous-sized dildo. One her clients enjoyed using on her. The one possession Jack had made her leave behind. Hardly competition if you didn’t play the game.

  She stumbled to the bed, her back immediately arching as she trailed the silicone shaft down her abdomen. Again her fingers found her sex. Her eyes were fixed on Stephan. For his lack of permission in letting her suck on his cock, he still watched her with darkened eyes. Her nipples peaked as she noticed his hand rubbing against his sheathed manhood. As she ran her tongue along her lips, Stephan released his beautiful specimen from the confines of his khakis.

  “Let me do that.” She moaned as her fingers found her nub. Stephan never answered but never took his hand from his cock.

  The dildo rode the outside of her labia, her juices slicking the sides with ease. She was so close to coming. The sight of Stephan masturbating along with her had her writhing on the bed. She cried out as the dildo penetrated her opening. Devin buried it deep, her fingers massaging her engorged clit with vigor. She matched her voyeur’s strokes with thrusts of her toy, her hips crashing to meet each one.

  Fantasies swirled in her head, and the timeless image of Stephan’s face inches from her own as he plunged his cock deep into her recesses exploded. She cried out as the orgasm rocked her. The warm gush of her completion saturated her bottom. Her fake shaft receded from her walls, and Devin sighed as Stephan’s cock jerked. Semen poured from the tip and onto her floor.

  She chuckled, stretching. “Quite a mess you have to clean up, Stephan.” She stood and sauntered over to him, keeping a bit of distance. She tweaked one of her nipples as she played with her bottom lip. One last bead of semen remained on his cock and she swiped her finger across it. She swirled her tongue and engulfed her digit as she moaned. “Paper towels are in the top left cabinet. I’m taking a shower.”

  His hasty retreat into the kitchen amused her. Perhaps someone was watching over her. In the fall after riding the tide, Devin realized she almost made a big mistake. If she truly wanted to smash Clause Twenty-Two to the rocks, she’d have to pick a partner who had no idea who her husband was. Now that she’d seen Stephan’s offering,
she’d have to be more careful around him. She was a sucker for a nice thick shaft and silicone only held her interest for so long. That time had long past.

  ****

  Stephan slammed his fist on the countertop. How had he allowed her to bait him in so easily? He stuffed his spent member back in his pants and retrieved the paper towels. He contemplated calling Jack and having him take care of his wife before his assistant succumbed to her further than a mutual masturbation session.

  For months, he’d watched the dejected look on her face when Jack went on his many business trips. As much as her active sex life plummeted, Stephan’s had matched the pace admirably. His attention to Jack’s neglected wife had given him no time to even consider getting laid. Jack had kept him equally busy so that even the smallest amount of private life he had dried up. He understood her frustration more than she knew.

  “I’m sorry.” Devin walked into the kitchen in her bathrobe. Her cheeks were flush and raw.

  “No, I should have stopped you. It’s my fault as well.”

  She clutched at him. “How am I supposed to bear his children if he won’t even touch me?” Her breath hitched. “His sister has been calling me asking if she should expect an addition to the family. What am I supposed to tell her?”

  Stephan pulled her close. “Does Jack know she’s calling you?”

  She broke down in tears. “When have I had time to speak one word to him beyond what’s expected of me?” Her nails dug into his chest. “If I leave, I have nothing and he knows it. That’s why he picked me. I have no family to turn to and who is going to want a woman Jack Monterey tossed aside?”

  “I’ll talk to him.” He held her tight. In truth, he wondered when this day would come. His words seemed hollow. Jack would no more listen to him than Devin. The woman was too much for the man to handle and he wouldn’t come out and say it. Instead, he had let Devin wilt because of his negligence.

  “Stay with me?” she pleaded.

  “Of course.” He guided her to the bed and turned down the covers for her to crawl inside. With her tucked in, he joined her on the bed but on top of the duvet. He’d stop this charade of a marriage if only to save Devin. How a woman of her caliber ever got mixed up in the escort business, he’d never know, but she wasn’t going back to that life. He’d make sure of it.