by Rylee Swann
“Why wouldn’t I? And since when do you travel in the same circles she does?”
Claudette is a French beauty that I’ve been fucking on and off for a couple of years now. She pays me well, and I enjoy her company. It’s never been anything more than that.
“Have you forgotten that I introduced the two of you in the first place, Mikey boy? When you finally decided you needed to get laid but didn’t want any complications?”
“Yeah… yeah. So, what’s the problem? You want to watch?” I smirk and take the steps two at a time. To Jack’s credit, he keeps up with me. “You know she’s not into that, or I would have partnered with her long ago.”
“Stop being a jerk. You’ve got Kim now.”
I towel off and regard him coolly. “Just say what’s on your mind.”
He pulls out a deck chair and harrumphs into it. He nods to another chair, suggesting that I sit too. I notice that he’s put his lawyer face on. I simply sigh and sit. And wait.
He stays silent for a beat or two — my friend, my savior — and I don’t press him. He looks out toward the ocean just as a trio of waves crash one after the other, pounding onto the shore.
“I always forget how freaking beautiful it is here,” he finally says. “Have you brought Kim here yet?”
My eyes narrow, but I force myself to remain calm. Jack knows that except for the cleaning service that comes in once a week, never has a female stepped foot inside this house. “Jack—”
He holds up a hand. “Okay, okay, Mikey. You want plain talk, I’ll give you plain talk. Why in the fuck would you hook up with Claudette when things are going so well between you and Kim? And yeah, before you revert to the pathetic ‘she’s my employee’ excuse, I’ll tell you that there’s more to it this time. I know you, man. Fuck, I’ve never seen you happier since—”
“Don’t fucking go there.”
He shuts his mouth but stares at me until I avert my eyes. I don’t want this conversation.
“You know I’m right,” he says quietly after a time.
“I don’t fucking know anything,” I say a little too loudly and jump up to head inside. “I have to get ready. Claudette is expecting me.”
Jack comes after me, grabbing my arm. I shake him off but stop walking.
“Don’t do this, Mikey. You’ll regret it.” I don’t say anything and he shakes his head. “So, what? I came out here for nothing?”
“It was good seeing you, Jack,” I say and walk into my house. He doesn’t follow.
Fuck, I can be such a damned ass.
***
After ringing Claudette’s doorbell, she opens it quickly and smiles widely at me.
“Ah, Michel, come in, come in and strip.”
I have to admit her French accent always sends a twitch to my cock. I return her smile, giving her my practiced one. I enter her large Parisian styled home, but I don’t strip. I know her well enough to know she was saying that in good humor. She prefers elegance and sophistication. Claudette is a gorgeous woman. She’s never told me, but I gather she’s in her forties yet doesn’t look a day over thirty. Legs that go on forever and fit nicely over my shoulders. Well-rounded breasts, full lips, a dynamo in bed. Willing and wanting to do just about anything.
She’s shared some personal insights with me, but really, that’s all I need to know. I’m here at her whim, her toy, her plaything. She pays me quite well for my services. I don’t need the money, and I don’t know if she knows that or not. It doesn’t matter. She’s getting what she wants out of the deal.
This evening, she’s wearing a floor-length silver sequined gown, and when she turns to me, it shimmers like a building orgasm.
“Have you eaten, Michel?” I shake my head no, and she laughs, throwing her head back and exposing her delicate neck. “Come now, with your clothes still on, how will we ever get to the first course?” Turning away, she motions to her back. “Unzip me, chérie, I want to be dirty tonight. Take off your clothes and let us admire each other.”
This is different. Usually, she likes me to take her in bed, lights off, very Pilgrim except that she enjoys being on top.
“Have you been reading Harlequin?” I ask as I unzip her dress.
“Oh, you naughty boy, Michel.” The dress flows to the floor, and she steps out of it. Turning, she reveals her naked body, and my cock twitches to life. She’s looking in that direction and again laughs. “Naughty, naughty boy. It is your turn, no?” She waves a hand at me.
“Would you like to—?”
She shakes her head. “I want to watch.”
I nod and watch her watching me as I unbutton my shirt and shrug it off. I drop it beside me and unzip my pants, releasing my hardening cock. She licks her lips as it springs out and points toward her. In another moment, I’m fully naked as she examines me.
I move forward to take her, but she stops me with an upraised hand.
“Tu est beau… so beautiful, Michel.”
She circles around and presses against my back as her hands grab my cock. In seconds, she brings me to fully erect. I moan low in my throat as she works me over.
“Enough foreplay,” I growl, playing my role. “Time to fuck you, Ki…” I shake my head and correct myself, “Claudette.”
She doesn’t seem to notice my misstep and laughs. “So impatient.”
Coming around in front of me, she presses her lips to mine. Our mouths open to each other, our tongues dueling, exploring. My cock is against her flat belly, but I want it to be lower, pressing deep into her, so I grab her ass and start to pull her up. With a twinkle in her eye, she stops me and moves down my body until her mouth is level with it. Looking at me, she takes me deep into her throat, her hands squeezing my ass. She’s an expert, and I can’t fight the desire to shut my eyes and let the sensations roll over me.
Except they don’t roll over me.
And I know why. Closing my eyes, I force Kim from my mind, concentrating on the mouth licking up my softening length. Fuck.
I gently disengage myself from Claudette and rake a hand through my hair. She looks up at me a question on her glistening lips and the beginnings of hurt in her eyes.
“What is it, Michel? Is something wrong?”
“No… I…” I don’t have words. This has never happened to me before. I look down at my limp dick and will it back to life, but nothing happens. “I’m sorry. Maybe if we go into the bedroom.”
She rises to her feet and studies my face, but instead of taking my hand and leading me to her bed, she hugs me.
“Ah, chérie, at long last someone has stolen your heart and taken you from me,” she says softly into my ear. “I knew this day would finally come.”
I’m startled by her words and try to pull away, but she holds on tight. “No no, Claudette. That’s not it at all.”
“Tell me, Michel, what is she like?” she goes on as if I haven’t spoken, denied her accusation. “Her coeur… how do you say… her heart must be very special.”
I don’t reply, can’t reply, my throat unwilling to work and she looks up at me with a sweet, sad smile. “Chérie, go now and dress. You must leave, our time has come to an end. Fini. Go to her, Michel. Go.”
Moments later, I’m climbing back into my car, the taste of Claudette still on my lips, shaking my head in denial. I don’t know what the fuck just happened. Claudette thinks she knows but she’s wrong. She has to be. Insanity.
CHAPTER 18
I’m watching Ellen, and she’s up to her usual shenanigans. I laugh at something silly she says to her first guest, and graceless dork that I am, almost fall right off the treadmill.
Yeah, I’m on a treadmill. I even joined a gym. In fact, I lost ten pounds and feel fantastic. When I told Michael this, he made me promise not to lose any weight in my breasts. He doesn’t want them to shrink.
He’s a funny, funny guy.
But endearing in his own special way.
Tonight is my third date with Scott, and I have crazy nervous chills livi
ng in my stomach.
The third date is put out date, and I can’t wait.
I’m so hot for him.
It’s not like I’m lacking in the sex department. Michael keeps me busy. It’s just the thought of lying naked next to Scott, of him touching me everywhere, driving into me… relentlessly pounding…
Yeah, I’m going to fall flat on my ass on this treadmill if I keep up thoughts like that.
On our second date, we made out in his car for nearly half an hour. And when he finally slipped a hand under my shirt and bra, I’d been desperate for more, but held back.
I took his lead and finally got to touch his rippling muscles. Oh, my hands couldn’t get enough of him. I don’t know how I kept myself from ripping his shirt right off his body.
I got so wet. No, strike that. I got drenched.
I’m sure he knew.
The heady smell of my desire permeated the car. I hope he had to jerk himself off after he walked me to the door. The evidence of his own lust was clear as he pressed against my stomach while we kissed good night. It’s only fair after he’d gotten me so turned on.
Oh, how I just wanted to grab his hand and thrust it between my legs. Okay, let’s be honest. It wasn’t really his hand I wanted between my legs. It’s not like he didn’t try. He almost catapulted himself into my apartment, and I was like the ice hockey goalie, standing in the crease, defending the net, not letting him score.
He was dejected, sad, maybe even a little angry, but I held my ground. I have the most unconventional job, but I want my dating life to be as normal as possible. That means waiting until the third date. No matter how much I ache for him.
Michael’s touch is hard and relentless, and I love it, crave it, masturbate to the memory of it, but I can’t help wondering what it will be like with Scott. He’s such a gentleman. Will he be the same way in bed? Slow and exacting, bringing me moment by agonizing moment to pleasure that goes on and on?
Okay then, enough treadmill. Let’s see if I can do some time on the stationary bike without falling off. These thoughts are testing my balance as it is.
“Hot damn, Kim! Looking good!”
I smile as I settle myself on the bike and start pedaling. “Aw, thanks, Larry.”
“What happened? I thought we were treadmill buddies?”
He pouts, and it’s so cute. “Aw, sorry. I already did my time on that heinous machine. How about tomorrow?”
Larry is sweet. We often walk side by side to nowhere on the treadmill. He’s average looking and in fair shape and fun to talk to. I don’t feel any sort of spark, but the attention is so nice. And he even pointed out a couple of other guys who have been eying me.
Who have I become?
Am I now the one guys lust after at the gym?
Is it possible I deserve it?
My muscles ache but in that good after sex — I mean, after work out — way, and I smile as I arrive home, eager to get ready for my date.
There’s a message on my answering machine, and I press play as I walk by. I no longer care if it’s another job rejection, and I smile when I hear Jenn’s voice.
“Kim! Call me when you get this. Do you remember Gina, Lisa, and Sandra? We’re getting together tomorrow night, and they’re dying to see you. They want to know all about where you disappeared to and make you buy them drinks now that you’re back. Call me.”
Yeah, sure, I remember those girls. What I find remarkable is that they remember me.
I need to stop being so down on myself. It would appear that my self-perceptions are not aligned with other people’s.
Crazy, right? I know.
I call Jenn back and barely give her time to say hello before I’m bombarding her. “Tonight’s my third date with Scott, and you’re trying to distract me? What kind of evil monster are you?” I laugh as she bursts into mad cackles. I remember how much I always liked her as the days go by.
“Holy shit, Pond! You’re going to fuck Adonis! Girl, I’m going to need details. In fact, you need to get a picture of him, and all of us are going to need details tomorrow night. You’re coming, right?”
I’m smiling like an idiot. “Yes, yes, I’ll be there. When and where?”
Jenn gives me directions to a bar on Long Island I’m not familiar with, insists again that I get a picture of Scott for everyone to drool over, and then tells me that she has something intense to talk to me about. Of course, when I ask her what it is she says it’ll wait until tomorrow night.
“Jenn, you are an evil wench!” I laugh. “See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 19
Scott is his typical prompt self when it’s time for him to pick me up for our date. When I open the door, and he sees me, I’m gratified that for a change it’s not my jaw dropping to the floor. I’ve stunned him, and inside I’m doing the dance of joy.
I’m wearing one of my old little black fuck me dresses that I couldn’t fit into until recently. I’m also wearing black high heels and delicate silver jewelry. Plus, I’m sporting a fancy new hairdo. I look good. I might even be gorgeous. Even better? I feel gorgeous, and Scott confirms it with his momentary speechlessness.
“Wow, Kim. Just… wow. You look… wow.” He smiles stupidly at me, and I eat it up.
“Thank you.” I smile at him and do a little spin so he can get the full effect of third date me. And it works.
Better than I could have hoped for.
Scott approaches, and it’s more like he’s stalking me. His muscles are coiled, tense, he’s ready to spring. With his tawny hair, he looks like a lion on the prowl. He’s fast, and I’m not used to his speed when his lips devour mine, and he crushes me to his body by wrapping an arm around me. His other hand is on my face, cupping my cheek as he drives his tongue into my mouth with an intensity I’ve not felt from him before. It’s intoxicating, and I want more.
He pulls away only long enough to speak against my lips, his breath sending sweet chills up and down my spine, and landing, of course, in my sex. “Holy damn, Kim,” he growls. “I want you so fucking bad that I want to skip dinner and take you right now.”
I grin. “Fine by—”
His fingers are on my lips, his eyes blazing into mine. “We’re going to dinner. Holy damn, I want to show you off.”
I’m both excited and disappointed, and dinner is a long, drawn out exercise in tantalizing seduction. We’re sitting in another Long Beach restaurant. I’d hoped we’d go to a restaurant in Brooklyn so that the night could end at his place, but he shot down that idea. I’ve yet to see where he lives, and I’m eager to explore it and see what he’s like at home. He’s hungry, he says, he doesn’t want to take the time driving back to the city, he says. I pout but don’t get anywhere.
So another Long Beach restaurant it is. We’re at a table meant for four, and we’re sitting next to each other. Scott doesn’t take his eyes off me, and they smolder with a fire that darkens his bright blue eyes into lust filled orbs.
I swear that’s what his eyes look like.
I give him something to watch by licking my lips after almost every bite of food I take. I just know he has a hard on hiding under the table, and I can’t wait to touch it.
He says his meal is delicious and offers me a bite. I accept, and he feeds me from his own fork. Are cameras rolling? I’m in an erotic romance movie.
We eat, drink wine, and talk, but I don’t know a single thing we’re talking about. I don’t hear the words coming from Scott’s mouth, and if I do, I don’t understand them. If I reply, I don’t know what I’m saying. I think, at least, that I laugh in all the appropriate places.
Most of the time, Scott is eating with one hand because his other hand is on my leg, caressing or dipping underneath the hem of my short little black dress. And oh how he teases. Every time I think he’s going to get extra naughty with his fingers and touch me where I’m throbbing desperately for him, he smiles at me while his fingers dance back down my leg.
Evil man!
I’m so hot fo
r him.
We share a chocolate mousse for dessert. I play with my spoon, licking off every single little drop of its creamy goodness while watching Scott watch me. Yeah, he wants me.
Adonis wants me.
That feels so damn good.
We get back to my apartment, and the romance movie continues as we tear at each other’s clothes and make a beeline for my bedroom.
And then everything stops.
Scott slows down the action again.
I’m going to die.
Is it possible to die of prolonged, aggravated need?
I think I hear my pussy crying.
Oh wait, that’s not tears making my inner thighs wet.
We’re both half undressed, but not undressed enough. Scott smiles and takes my hand. His heat sizzles its way to my aching pussy, and a little whine of pure, animal need escapes my throat.
Lowering me to the bed, Scott slowly peels off my clothing, kissing each bit of skin that he reveals. I’m shivering and tingling, aching and sizzling, and when I’m naked, Scott stops to enjoy the view. He drinks me in with his eyes, savoring everything from the top of my head to my large, engorged nipples, to the neatly trimmed curls at the apex of my legs, and right on down to my toes.
My muscles coiled and ready to spring into action, I watch him tear his shirt off. He smiles that blinding smile of his and I pull him down to me. Ever so slowly he leans down and gently takes one of my nipples into his mouth.
I shudder and have a mini orgasm. At least I think that’s what it is. Either that or I’m having an epileptic fit.
I feel his lips curve into a smile as he softly, gently sucks at my nipple, twirling his tongue. Worshipping it with tender loving care.
I gasp for breath, crazed and delirious for more, but he continues his maddeningly slow ministrations.
Finally, oh god yes, finally, he sits up and removes his pants. His cock, at last released from its bonds, springs to life, that beautiful one-eyed monster staring right at me, daring me to take it and make it mine. I cannot resist such a challenge, and I rise quickly, reaching for it, but Scott gently stops me and lays me back down.