by Fifi Flowers
Losing track of time, wrapped up in all of their bantering, as the jazz combo began playing, Pierce looked at his gold presidential Rolex watch. “If we don’t leave now we’re going to miss our nine o’clock dinner seating.”
Gently placing my hand on Pierce’s wrist, I stated, “While I would love to try Grace, I’m really loving this view… these delicious drinks,” raising my glass, “and the Jazz music… Can’t we stay?” I asked ending my request, batting my eyelashes. Then I let out a hearty laugh.
Emerson joined me laughing. “Pierce, you heard her, and her wish is our command… why don’t we just eat here?”
“Fine… let me go make a call… I shall return,” he said standing and walking away. I was wishing he was minus his suit jacket, that man had a glorious ass and I liked watching it strut away.
Turning back to Emerson, I smiled and he reached behind my head, grasped a handful of my hair, tilted my head back and captured my lips. I moaned, “Oh god,” into his mouth. Oblivious to people around us, I leaned into Emerson. I realized Pierce had rejoined us when I felt a hand slide along my upper thigh, warm breath on the back on my neck and a faint murmuring about dessert. Chills ran down my spine, my nipples pebbled and moisture soaked my panties. I hoped that we could eat quickly and get naked. Of course, we would need to be in the privacy of a room. I wasn’t sure I was ready for performing in front of a crowd.
A couple hours later, with our appetites satisfied and our bodies filled with too many drinks, we poured ourselves into a taxi and made our way to my hotel room. Along the way, two sets of hands caressed me to a beautiful orgasm and I had to bite my lips to keep from crying out. Oh, thank god… there would be dessert, and I loved the two flavours that I would be enjoying.
Slipping out of the taxi, we made our way up to my room. Once inside, all bodies were quickly stripped of all articles of clothing and entwined on the bed. Hands and mouths were used for roaming and pleasuring each other. Holding two well-hung men in my hands; they brought me to yet another delicious orgasm. It was so exciting to be tended to by two hard-bodies with their mouths and hands, but it wasn’t enough. I panted, “More,” as the last wave of climax rolled away. Wanting to give me what I asked for, Emerson filled me completely frantically pounding into me and Pierce quickly moved around me and I took him deep into my mouth. A reverse of our ménage the night before, I was loving dessert!
After three orgasms were reached, we remained reclined on the bed. Facing me, Pierce stroked my cheeks, smiling, and Emerson got up and walked away. I was wondering if he was leaving until I heard him stalking back to the bed. Upon his return, he took up space behind me, rubbing my body softly and handed something to Pierce. “You’re so beautiful, Julia,” Pierce said capturing my lips; I could still taste myself on his lips. “Oh my god,” I thought to myself as I closed my eyes and recalled everything that had happened to my body in the last two days. I’d never done anything like this before, but I loved it. Would I ever be satisfied with just one man in my bed?
As Emerson began stroking my body, Pierce turned me over toward him, kissing, nibbling my shoulder; Pierce spooned me from behind. I could feel erections pressing against both sides of my body and my juices began to flow. “More please” slipped from my lips in a low whisper as male parts slid along my clit and my bottom.
Softly biting my lower lip, Emerson asked if I’d ever had two men inside of me at the same time.
I gasped at the thought as I answered, “no,” breathlessly.
“Would you like to, Julia?” I heard Pierce ask from behind, sliding his finger along my tight rosette.
With moisture pooling at the thought, I moaned, “Yessss.”
Rolling onto his back Emerson took me with him, kissing me deeply; he moved my legs to straddle him and slipped into my throbbing pussy. The anticipation was killing me, and my breathing was labored. Remaining still inside of me, Emerson continued to kiss me as Pierce moved behind me. With lubricant on his fingers, he massaged me, “Relax, Julia. This is going to be good, Julia. Like nothing you’ve ever felt, Julia.” At his words and his talented fingers slipping inside of my back opening, along with the way Emerson explored my mouth, I moaned deeply. As Pierce circled and stretched me, he continued to add fingers; a second finger, and then a third. “That’s a girl, Julia, relax.” It hurt a little to begin but the pressure felt amazing and I wanted to move. I wanted to push his fingers in deeper and at the same time I wanted to rotate my hips and grind on Emerson’s cock.
Moaning loudly out of frustration, Pierce said, “Hang on, Julia. Let me get inside and then all you need to do is just relax and we’ll do all the work. We’ll make you feel so good, Julia.” Feeling more lubricant coat my entrance, he entered me slowly, inch by inch with his sheathed cock and I felt a sense of fullness like nothing I’d ever imagined. I gasped and Pierce asked, “Are you ready, Julia?”
“Yessss… please…” I panted.
“That’s a good girl, Julia… Relax and enjoy.” At first they began with an alternating in and out. As Pierce initially pushed in, Emerson pulled slightly out, but neither ever left my body completely. I tried to figure out their rhythm and match them, but it was virtually impossible as they held me tightly. My body was throbbing and pulsing and I felt like I could pass out. When I was finally used to their movement, it completely changed and they began to move in and out of me at the same time. I lost it and began chanting, “yesss… oh my god,” as my body tightened and a multitude of orgasms raged through my body, one rolled into the other until I felt I would black out. I could no longer think as I felt two powerful explosions inside of me and tears slid down my cheeks. Never in my life had I ever climaxed like that.
As my body was vacated, I laid on my back with my forearms over my eyes, next to Pierce as Emerson disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, he lifted me and carried me to a waiting bathtub and then climbed in behind me. Gently, he cleaned me and I relaxed against his massive chest. With my eyes tightly shut, Emerson’s hand began to skim over my breasts, pulling and twisting my nipples and I turned in his arms. Gathering strength, I straddled him, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you,” I whispered against his beautiful mouth as he deepened our kiss and slid inside on me; rocking my world once again. When we emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in towels still slightly damp, Pierce was long gone.
After I dried off I slid between the cool sheets and watched as Emerson finished drying himself, put on his pants, shirt and shoes. Then he folded up his tie, tucked it into his pocket, tossed his jacket over his shoulder and announced, “I’ve gotta go… you have an early flight and I need to paint tonight… you’ve inspired me.” And with a kiss to my forehead, he strutted out the door.
NICE! Fucked by two men and left like a whore! No, I wasn’t a whore… I didn’t do it for money. I was a slut!? And worst of all, I hadn’t learned my lesson: Never take men back to your hotel room.
Early the next morning with my bags packed, I went down to the hotel lobby for a light breakfast and much needed pot of coffee. Looking over the Matisse exhibit brochures, killing some time before I had to depart for the airport, my mind began to wander. What a wild time I had these last few days reclining nude in Chicago. Ha! I couldn’t imagine anything would ever top this business trip. Draining my last cup of caffeine, I hired a taxi and hopped my flight out of O’Hare… goodbye Chicago, hello LAX!
Home for two weeks, I had fallen back into my old routine. Up every morning, greeted by the sunlight streaming through my various apartment windows, I padded to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and took a morning stroll around my neighborhood. A few mornings in the week, I attended a yoga class in Runyon Canyon and then had coffee and a light breakfast at one of my favourite neighborhood cafes; some times alone, some times with a fellow yoga student. Around noon, I hopped in the shower or tub depending on my mood and then got dressed for the day. By mid-afternoon, I checked my email and made my social media rounds: Facebook, Twitter,
Pinterest, Tumblr and Instagram. Caught up on the latest; I began my writing assignments or research or both.
My latest writing project was the Matisse exhibit. Armed with my interview with Mr. Pierce Marten and the various brochures and articles; I began my own research. Once satisfied with my round up of information regarding the preparation of exhibit and the trials and tribulations of putting it together, I started writing the main body of my article. After I had written this part, I only had the last part which would be the final look when I attended the gala in a couple weeks.
During the two weeks that I’d been home, I had heard from Pierce on several occasions. He was forever updating me on the latest goings on at the museum to accomplish the tasks of making the Matisse exhibit something that he would be extremely proud of. I had no doubt in my mind that it would be anything less than perfect. That man was perfection. He was brilliant and he was absolutely stunning. When he strolled into the loft on that infamous night, he was dressed in a custom fitted suit that showed a fit and well-proportioned body. His face was so handsome framed with closely cropped chocolate brown hair. His eyes were hazel with flecks of green, blue and gold surrounded by long dark eyelashes. A pair of black rectangular glasses sat upon a strong, straight nose resting above full lips. He was yummy. And when he was stripped of his formal attire, his body was equally stunning. It was obvious he worked out regularly. Not an ounce of fat was visible. Though he did not have a ripped six-pack of abs, his chest and stomach were taut and nicely cut. He had well defined arms and legs as well. And the ass was totally biteable. Yes, biteable… the first time I saw it I had an overwhelming urge to bite it. Especially seeing the tattoo that started just above his left butt cheek and went around his v-cut hip and partially up his side. That was a shock. Mr. Curator had a bit of naughty, sexy ink on him. It added to the mystery of the clean-cut looking man. Mmmm… just thinking about him made me hot and bothered.
Thinking about Pierce of course led me to think about Emerson. I wished I had heard from him, but no, he was silent. I once sent him a quick text telling him I hoped his painting was going well, but there was no response. Between the two men, I thought that he would be the one that I could possibly continue some sort of relationship with. What he lacked in words, he made up for in caresses and tenderness. Pierce gave me words… some times too many words… but he was stern, he was distant, he was emotionless… except in the heat of passion or speaking about art. What had truly happened the last night in Chicago? What had made Emerson leave me alone? He told me he never left a woman alone, but he left me alone. Why was I the exception to his rule? He said I had inspired him to paint… was that the truth? I hoped that was the truth. Those two weeks back home, had me constantly questioning my actions.
Just when I had given up all hope of ever hearing from Emerson a texted arrived: “Coming to LA – can you recommend a place to stay near La Cienega and Melrose – clean – small – nothing trendy – want a homely feel.”
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest and I bravely texted back immediately: “I have just the place for YOU – cozy – quaint – filled with sunlight – clean – definitely not trendy – in the right area within walking distance of La Cienega and Melrose – reasonably priced – shall I book you a reservation – I know the proprietor personally.” Biting my lip, I held my breath and waited for his reply.
When my phone buzzed back a reply I was afraid to look, I was afraid of rejection. With a deep sigh, I turned the phone over in my hand and peered at the screen: “Sounds perfect – my flight arrives tomorrow – I have my own transportation – need address for what I hope to be the perfect accommodations – looking forward to penetrating the proprietor.”
I gasped at the last part of his text and typed back quickly: “Excuse me?” I wanted to hear more, but he did not text back, so I simply texted back my address and still no response. My stomach was in knots as I went to sleep that night, thinking about what it would be like to have Emerson in my home… in my bed… in my heart. How long was he staying? How would be it when he left? Exhausted with my thoughts, doubts and questions, I finally fell asleep.
Chapter Six
Last night after receiving Emerson’s suggestive text, I proceeded to get things ready for his visit. First, I rushed out to the local market and filled a basket with a variety of tasty morsels. I hoped to spend most of our time together alone. I wanted him all to myself in my place. Returning home, I put everything away and a cleaning frenzy ensued. Falling into bed after a quick shower, I tossed and turned all night anticipating being penetrated by a hard body. That was his enticing word! Too tired to find the strength to release my agonizing, I finally fell asleep. Waking up bright and early, I stretched my naked body along my cool, crisp sheets and began to tingle from head to toes again. Today was check-in day. A delicious houseguest would soon be joining me. I moaned at the thought and slipped my hand between my moistened thighs. I knew I would never make it through the day without some relief. Even though he could’ve arrived at any moment, right then I needed an orgasm.
Dragging my partial sated body from the comfort of my bed, I went about my daily routine minus activities that took me away from my apartment. Coffee, pastry and a run through of a variety of yoga poses; my morning flew by with no arrival. Moving into the afternoon, I opened my laptop and began researching future art prospects and chatted with a few friends online; trying to keep my mind occupied.
When early evening rolled around, I was wondering if I had imagined Emerson’s text and went in search of my cell phone. No, I wasn’t crazy, the message was still there and no, no new messages had arrived. Next thought; maybe he changed his mind… or found more suitable accommodations. Having no idea what else to do while I waited, I uncorked a bottle of red wine; it was cocktail time after all. Unwrapping a creamy wedge of brie cheese, I opened a package of baked parmesan crisps, curled up on my sofa and absentmindedly listened to music as the hours rolled by. Before I knew it, it was nine o’clock and a relaxing bath sounded like a good idea, pouring the last glass of wine from the bottle I headed for my big claw footed tub. It proved to be the opposite of relaxing, so I climbed out, dried off and grabbed a silk robe. Things didn’t appear in my favour tonight and I swore, “shit,” as I dropped the robe sash in the emptying bath water. Pulling the tie from the belt loops, I tossed it and stalked into the kitchen with the empty bottle and wine glass as the doorbell began ringing.
With my heart beating wildly, I padded across the floor weaving a bit as I went. Apparently, a hot tub and a whole bottle of wine had relaxed me more than I thought. Without looking through the peephole, I threw open the door to the most beautiful man. I smiled and stepped back to let him in and unabashedly announced, “You have too many clothes on.”
I heard a laugh escape his lush mouth and I wanted to nibble and lick it. “Yes… and I see you are losing yours,” he said as he quickly dropped his bags inside my door. Confused, I looked down and saw that he was, in fact, correct; my dressing gown was hanging off one shoulder exposing one of my breasts. Pushing the door shut, Emerson locked it and turned back to me growling, “Baby, you shouldn’t answer the door that way,” and then flicking my nipple he added, “but I’m glad you did.”
Moving against my body, he lifted me up for a kiss and I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist. Moaning, his tongue and teeth devoured my lips and explored my mouth as I shamelessly rubbed my aching nub against his rough jeans. “Please Emerson… please…” I panted aching with desire. I wanted to feel him so bad. Tossing me over the back of my sofa, I watched as he removed his clothing licking my lips as his hard, glorious cock appeared. As he was about to hop over the couch, I opened my legs wide for him, I couldn’t wait another moment not having him buried deep within me.
“Oh baby, I’ve missed your wet… mmmm… tight… pussy…” he groaned as he penetrated me as promised over and over. Screaming his name, our mutual climax came fast and hard. “Now that we have a quick one down,” Emerson
said throwing me over his shoulder, heading for my bed visible through a distant doorway. “Time for more, baby.” Oh god, was I ever ready for him.
Late morning, my eyes reluctantly opened to a pair of dark eyes that were attached to a muscular body entwined with mine. He felt so good… so warm… so right. I wanted to stay like this all day. He made me want to purr and nuzzle against him. I closed my eyes and tried to get even closer to him when he began pushing back. “No,” I moaned and he laughed, “Let’s get out. It’s sunny. Let’s get some exercise.” Exercise? Was he fucking kidding? My body ached from all the various positions he had me in throughout the night. No, he wasn’t joking, he disentangled himself from me and popped out of bed. Dragging me from beneath the comfort of my sheets, he guided me toward the shower and then once we were clothed; he shoved me out the door.
It was truly a beautiful day and I enjoyed showing him my neighborhood, but when he said it was time to go home I was thrilled. When I thanked him, he hoisted me up on his back for a lift home. I took full advantage of my position, biting and licking his neck. He smelt so good; soap mixed with his own raw, manly scent. My panties moistened as he informed me that if I didn’t stop he was going to lift me higher and flip me around so my pussy was in his face. I bit him harder, but he just laughed more and moved faster to my place. Once we were in the door, we never left and clothes were never worn. I can honestly say there was not a part of my body or spot in my apartment where he didn’t penetrate me.
The next morning, Emerson treated me to a little morning delight before he poured coffee into me and rushed me out the door. He had a whole itinerary that included touring several artist lofts and art venues in various areas of downtown Los Angeles. We viewed some amazing artwork, some bizarre artwork and I found what I hoped would be my next magazine article or better yet; series of articles. After visiting lofts and galleries along Spring, Main and Broadway, we settled into Church and State, a French bistro in the art district. Emerson treated my palate to a bevy of delights; goat cheese with lavender honey, New Zealand oysters and Carre d’Agneau Roti along with a delicious bottle of wine. With my belly full and happy, Emerson treated me to an endless buffet of dessert all night long… between the sheets of my bed.