by Mia Madison
Dating sometimes left me feeling resentful. Fiona was one of those women. She constantly needed to post pictures of us, tag me in everything, and drag me everywhere. She wanted to talk about wedding plans and details, but we had no real connection, just great sex and the most simple of companionships.
That’s why Misha, the lady on my mind, had a hold on me. She was unlike any other woman I’d ever experienced. She was tough, sexy, sensitive - and genuine.
She sparkled with confidence and carried herself like a queen, her invisible crown held high coming into any situation ready to win.
And she wasn’t just beautiful, she was built like a sex goddess. Thick and curvy in all the right places, just all-around sexy as hell. She had plump thighs and solid drumstick legs I just wanted to sink my teeth into, plus juicy breasts, and a soft, sexy hourglass figure covered smooth skin that was soft as fuck.
And speaking of sex…
My cock surged to life just thinking about the way she felt that night.
She was soft and sexy; every inhale of that warm, sweet Hervé Leger perfume aroused and soothed me. I lost myself in her essence. The idea of touching her drove me crazy. I decided to instead lay down and opt to talk instead of letting her rub my back. I asked her to turn out the lights so I could conceal how badly I wanted to rip her open and ravage her.
She was quiet. Chill. She didn’t bombard me with questions or bullshit small talk. She just wanted to be in the moment, with me, and I connected to that.
I don’t remember falling asleep. I just remember being so comfortable that I floated away. I awoke with a start, confused as to who this soft, sexy creature was in my arms. When I adjusted myself and she melted into my body, a soft sigh escaping her lips, my heart skipped a beat. She slept soundly, peacefully. She oozed trust and comfort with me.
The sex was amazing. I feasted on every ounce of her flesh, fueled by the way she reacted to me. I couldn’t do anything wrong. She wiggled, cooed, moaned, and gasped for me. She was supple, delicious, and soaking wet.
Her moans made my dick surge with desire. Her pussy had an enchanting aroma; her flavor was otherworldly. When I suckled her clit to release her sweet juices, I was pleasantly surprised to learn she was delectably pierced there as well.
My dick fit perfectly inside those walls of hers. I could tell she hadn’t been with anyone for a minute. It was all the way her cunt gripped my shaft, pulsing on it like a silky velvet glove.
She tapped into a primal force inside of me. I couldn’t just have her for the night. I wanted her for eternity. I had to take her away from everyone else. Brand her mine.
But when I asked her to say yes to me during sex, she didn’t. When I hinted at wanting to stay the night, she didn’t beg me to. And that shifted things for me. I realized I sounded crazy and ahead of myself.
I liked her a lot, wanted to crawl up between her legs and live inside of her, but I realized I might have come on too strong. That or she really wasn’t like any other woman I’d dealt with. I was used to women giving me my way, especially after great sex.
She was cool I was unnerved. I spent the entire drive home seeking to understand what happened. I ignored the mass of text messages, nude pictures, and missed calls other women had sent. I was completely gone on Misha, what our connection did to me, and how to move forward.
She was even cool when I made it home, wishing me goodnight, and telling me get some rest. I tried to push the confusion out my mind as I fell asleep in my bed. I replayed the sex in my head, play by play, even though I was too spent to masturbate.
My dreams were crazy that night. I dreamt Misha came to my place, topless and wearing those sexy black bowtie panties, makeup fully done up.
She dropped to her knees, ready to suck my cock before taking control of me and riding me like a wild stallion. Then I made her to bend over on all fours so I could pound her until I released a hot nut deep inside that tight cunt.
I woke up feeling more intensely for her than before. I craved to be near her, inside her, all up on her. That scared the shit out of me.
She’d conquered me and not the other way around.
She’d sent one or two texts, but she didn’t send any crazy nudes or sultry to feed and fuck me in an attempt to entice me.
Reasserting control the best way I knew how, I went back on the dating app and ignored her attempts to contact me. I couldn’t handle a woman turning me out to the point where I was craving her more than she craved me.
No matter how badly I wanted to speak to her, I decided I was better off being with a woman that was easier to handle. Fiona.
Chapter Twelve
Alex
Now here I was, still stuck on stupid months later. I’d had my fill of other women before and after Misha, yet she continued to dominate my thoughts. No woman could soothe the sexual beast inside me the way she did.
I’d even gotten back with Fiona. She claimed our sex life had gotten better. She didn’t know it was because every time I was deep inside her, I was fantasizing about Misha.
I thought I’d adjusted well to the circumstances, to coping with endless variations of passion in my Misha-laced fantasies, until I had a dream about her walking past me in a grocery store, holding hands with another man. I noticed a sparkly engagement ring on her finger, and it drove me crazy.
I had another dream we fucked in front of the television watching a football game. She wore my favorite jersey as she pistoned her wet pussy up and down over my turgid cock. I gripped her fleshy hips, grit my teeth, and roared as I came deep inside of her.
The last dream was so real, I woke up to a mess. I’d actually ejaculated at some point during my sleep. I was embarrassed. Being in my early 40s, this type of thing wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.
I couldn’t lie to myself. I was still stuck on her, even after all these months. It was making me go insane.
Mental paralysis. That’s what these thoughts caused. I’d spent the past few days fantasizing about Misha instead of finishing the quarterly report. It was January 20. I was coming up on the January 25th deadline quickly.
These numbers wouldn’t make any sense until I’d reset my brain cells.
I pushed away from my desk, needing to get fresh air. I walked to my bathroom, unzipped my fly, and groaned in relief as I released my bladder. I hadn’t taken a leak in hours.
“Definitely time for me to step out of here for moment,” I said aloud.
I was lucky to work for my uncle, and even luckier to work from home. I didn’t like having anyone breathing down my back, keeping track of my every move, telling me when to work and when to piss. Sounds cocky, I know. But I was a grown man who was very self-aware and responsible. Another man lording over me would never bode well for my autonomous nature.
I grabbed the keys to my Audi, slid into some Nike flip flops over thick gray socks, and walked out the door. I was a good cook, but my stomach was growling. I needed to eat now.
I initially decided on Smoothie King, but changed my mind and went to California Pizza Kitchen. CPK wasn’t the swankiest spot, but beer and pizza felt like the perfect combination for the day. I needed real food, not a fruit shake loaded with supplements.
“Welcome to California Pizza Kitchen!” The hostess beamed at me with pretty green eyes. “How many are in your party?”
“One.” I smiled back.
“Would you prefer a table or booth?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
The hostess placed me at a table within the bar area, then announced the server would arrive shortly.
Alex picked over the menu, looking at everything although I’d already decided on pepperoni pizza and a Dos Equis. My stomach continued to growl, another reminder that I should have never waited so long to fulfill my appetite.
“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Amy. How are you today?”
My eyes flitted up and froze when I looked at the waitress. Amy looked almost exactly like Misha, curves and all. But upon my double take, I
realized she was just a damn good doppelgänger. Her eyes weren’t as cat-like, and her face was more square than heart-shaped. She also had blonde streaks and highlights in her hair. I remembered Misha being a brunette, and damn proud of it.
“I’m good, just starving. I gotta eat before I head back to work.”
The waitress looked at me with playful skepticism. Her direct gaze was flirtatious and inviting, sweeping from the flip flops to the bulge in my sweats before meeting my eyes.
“You work in your flip flops and sweat pants?”
“I work from home. I wear what I want.”
“Lucky you…” She mused. “You must be a business owner…”
She appeared fond of me, as most women were. I could see the sparkle in her eyes blooming. The question lingered in her statement, waiting for a response.
She was attractive; in another world, I would definitely put my charm to work on her. But I was doing my best to remain committed to Fiona; the only woman with the power to destroy that was Misha herself.
“Yeah,” I nodded, letting her think whatever she wanted. “I get to save a lot on my wardrobe… Amy.”
She beamed when I read her name tag. Conversation changed course when I placed my order. Amy snuck me extra bread and oil to munch, plus a free order of flatbread the kitchen made by mistake.
Every time Amy wasn’t looking, I admired how much she reminded me of Misha. I don’t know what I would have done if it were Misha instead of Amy. She’d probably add a few special ingredients of her own to my food, out of spite for what I’d done.
I wouldn’t want that, but I’d probably deserve it.
I text Fiona while I waited to see what she was up to. Her job as a real estate administrative assistant made her schedule terribly predictive.
She usually worked regular 9 to 5 hours Monday through Thursday, and usually didn’t have to work past 2 PM on Fridays if she were scheduled to work an open house.
When she wasn’t working, she was usually at Happy Hour with friends, attending yoga classes, and of course, shopping.
And while I’d never met a woman who shopped like it was a sport, Fiona lived for it. She never seemed to be out of money. I wasn’t sure if she still got an allowance from her parents or she was knee deep in credit card debt.
Massive debt had no place in my future plans. That was another reason I didn’t see a future with us.
Fiona: I’m looking for makeup on Pinterest. I miss you.
I smiled. I miss you too babe. You coming over tonight?
Fiona: I can’t. Yoga class with Jenna, then I have to get up early tomorrow.
I sighed. My sex drive was high. I really needed her to come over. I didn’t want to spend the night alone, faced with more thoughts of the woman I let get away.
I attempted to appeal to her. I haven’t seen you in a few days. You can spend the night at my house. We’ll grab breakfast early, he offered.
I got the hint when she didn’t reply. It would be me, my hand, and Misha. If I wanted to push myself over the edge, I could fantasize about Amy tasting Misha while she sucked me off. Then she’d pleasure us both.
My frustration, was quickly overruled by excitement as Amy walked toward me, full breasts jiggling as she presented my pizza.
Chapter Thirteen
Misha
“We’re finally past holidays!” Marissa, the manager, walked gingerly back and forth across the polished floor, her Sam Edelman heels clicking lightly. “So I want to address how we’ve performed, and some of the exciting changes that are going to be happening.”
As she went over our stats, and some of the new policies, I listened with mild interest.
“We’re also expanding. If you’re interested in shifting departments, or perhaps moving up in the company, go to our website and check out what we have. You can speak with your manager and apply internally.”
That piqued my interest. I’d been in handbags since I’d started working here. Even with huge sales, handbags and accessories weren’t my thing. I itched for something more my style, like designer clothes or shoes.
“If you’re interested in any of the open positions, now is the time to go ahead and apply,” Marissa informed everyone. “Today’s goal is to sell $550,000 and get twenty accounts. Remember, when we’re getting accounts, we’re actually rewarding shoppers with tons of exclusive benefits they don’t get anywhere else…”
After the meeting, I sauntered over to my department. My boss, Gigi, was busy poring over the details of a stock order.
“Good morning, Meesh.” She smiled at me before returning her focus to the paperwork in front of her.
“Morning. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
I stood next to Gigi. “Whatcha dooooing?”
“Purchase order. There’s adjustments that need to be made before spring.”
I nodded my head. Even though I didn’t plan to be in this position forever, I enjoyed learning the nuances and logistics of managing a department. The more I learned, the better I was able to understand the business.
From a copywriting perspective, getting into the mind of the client (my job) was as important as getting into the mind of the client’s customer (their customers), because knowledge allowed my to craft better messages, strengthening my sales pitch.
“Let me ask you something.” Gigi finished making notes on the paper with her red pen before putting it in the drawer. “Have you considered looking into some of the open positions?”
I shook my head. “I heard her speak about it, and thought about it, but no. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”
“Rapid advancement may help you out. There’s an assistant manager position open in Men’s Clothing. You would be great there.”
“I’ve only been here a couple of months. I don’t know anything about men’s clothing! I’m a woman.”
“I know you’re a woman, Meesh. It’s quite obvious. But there are women in that department, and from what I’ve seen, you’ve got a management personality.”
She expanded her argument. “You’re one of our top grossing salespeople. Nine dollars or base commission is not something for you to do forever. You’ve shown exceptional growth. Your numbers rival some of the store’s most productive salespeople.”
I stood in silence, letting her words sink in. I’ve had some nice checks yet none of them have been spectacular enough for me to consider my potential for a promotion. In fact, there were days I questioned my path here, and why I even bothered.
Oh yeah, bills.
Gigi leaned in. “Assistant department managers make $16 per hour, plus commission. You’ll also have bonus potential. Men’s Clothing is one of the store’s best grossing departments, and the clientele are phenomenal.”
“Oh,” I said, seeing her vision. She was truly throwing me a bone, and showing me some game. Even if I didn’t sell more, I’d make more. I needed to make more.
“Yes,” she nodded, pleased that I’d picked up on her underlying message. “You’ll pick up the game quickly. Being a woman will give you an advantage with men who trust a woman’s opinion.”
“Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll apply today.”
“No.” She grabbed my arm and led me to the back. “You’re going to apply right now.”
Chapter Fourteen
Misha
I chewed my lip and straightened out my outfit. After listening to Gigi and applying for the management position, things moved quickly. I was given an interview with Men’s Clothing before the end of the week.
Men’s Clothing held a higher standard to the dress code than Handbags. Professional attire was required.
I stepped in front of the mirror to check myself out. I wanted to ensure I’d risen to the occasion. I wore a black peplum top and a matching pencil skirt, plus nude heels to my interview. The outfit was accessorized with a matching nude handbag. My long dark hair was pulled into a styli
sh topknot, bringing attention to my diamond studs and matching necklace.
I skipped my usual red “fuck me” lips and opted for nude lips with a blush of gloss. My makeup brought attention to my slanted eyes, using a light cat eye with touch of bronzer to add gilded warmth to the look.
Men’s Clothing, eat your heart out.
Brent, the department manager, was with a customer when I arrived. I excused myself to go to the restroom once more before showtime. When I glanced at myself in the mirror, I looked so good I couldn’t help but to whip out my phone for a selfie. It wasn’t everyday that I got to polish and primp, and I wanted to capture this moment.
“You look nice!” I turned to see one of the women’s clothing employees smiling in approval at my outfit. “I love your shoes!”
“Thanks!” I smiled. Anytime another woman complimented my look, I knew I had to look good.
Brent was ready and standing by the cash wrap when I returned. I had seen Brent on many occasions, and nodded hello in passing at him many times, but this was the first time we’d have a real conversation.
As I walked alongside him, I smelled his Givenchy cologne, mixed with something else that made my clit pulse. Whatever it was, my next lover would have to wear it. Just once.
He led me upstairs to the conference room in Human Resources, offering me a bottle of water as he opened one of his own. He also pulled out my seat for me. I did my best not to blush at the chivalry.
“It looks like you’ve just started with the company, and you’re already getting recommendations for promotion,” Brent started, looking over a printed copy of my application. “Impressive. Tell me about your experience here so far.”
“Yes. I started a couple of months ago, and the experience has been wonderful thus far. I’ve learned a lot about myself, and more about what it takes to be good at sales. While I haven’t always had the best days, I tend to sell anywhere between $2500 and $5000 in sales on a regular basis.”