by Selena Kitt
This was the fourth place they had taken the young lady, and he was the third man on the job; their best this time, according to Pete. His friend’s last chance, really. It was getting to be too much, the pressure of this high profile client. Both he and Pete were worried they had a leak on the inside. The damn jerk always managed to find her, slipping notes under the door of her location no matter where they were, getting bolder each time. Besides her locations being compromised, the other two guys who'd had this job before him couldn’t handle her anyway, and he'd started to understand why.
Drawing deep on his cigarette once again, he held the tainted breath for a moment and then exhaled loudly, the smoke getting caught in front of him in the still slightly muggy night air. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed a faint light on in Kathryn's bedroom through a part in the curtains. Damn woman! He'd told her to shut them tight. She presented a challenge in more ways than one. Definitely more, many more, ways than any other client he’d ever taken on.
Leaning slightly to the left, he realized he could see straight into her room where she lay on the bed, covered only by a thin sheet, the outline of her curvaceous body revealed as clear as if the sheet did not exist. His gaze followed the curve of the rounded nature of her breasts until he found himself perusing along her waist, then up over the small rise of her mound. He forced his stare to trace over the outline of her hips, more than generous for a man to grab hold of and...
Another deep drag of the cigarette helped him semi-refocus his wayward thoughts. Holding the smoke in, shutting his eyes tight, he willed away the glimmer of a desire to spank her for leaving the curtains open, reminding himself this young woman was his charge, not his consenting, willing partner. The dominant in him had taken quite the blow to his ego dealing with this woman these past few days. Shit, how he wanted to tame her, train her to obey his commands, to keep her safe despite the post's necessity.
Damn, something about this woman attracted him to her, and it seriously mucked with his professionalism in a huge way. Some kind of sizzling energy seemed to spasm in his gut any time she came into his immediate vicinity. Even now, as she lie sleeping, he had this uncanny weird feeling rushing through his veins and making his heart thud in his chest. He didn't get it. Not one of his charges before her had ever had this kind of effect on him. None of the women he'd know in his life had, for that matter. So why did his libido go into overdrive in response to this particular full-figured vixen with her soft looking, light mahogany curls trailing across the pillow? He was losing his edge over a spoiled little rich girl, for Christ sake! Apparently to his baser desires, when faced with such a voluptuous body, her attitude became a non-issue. It made no sense. He’d told himself quite a few times the poor girl was just a product of her upbringing, that the depth of a good woman just laid in wait under all of the privileged nonsense. Still, he couldn’t justify the thought process or time he’d spent on it given she was literally a charge, a non-touchable mission to serve and protect. Of course, she gave new meaning to the word serve, and he’d no idea why he’d been waiting on her hand and foot to some degree. Wasn’t like he was getting laid for his efforts. The idea of disciplining her grew as a more appealing idea daily.
Knowing it wrong, and he could get himself fired for it, he moved closer to the window as she rolled toward him in her sleep. The sheet had slipped down when she'd turned onto her side, revealing the most perfect set of pale, supple globes he had ever seen. Natural, too, which in this day and age was a rarity. She’s been over-endowed by the gods, though, and his mouth watered with the thoughts of suckling on the rich flesh.
He just stood there, marveling at the way the diffused light from the bedside table only enhanced his view. His mind began to fill with thoughts, images of things he definitely shouldn’t be envisioning.
He twisted away from the tantalizing image between the parted curtains, not even realizing he'd formed his left hand into a tight fist. Not before noticing she had her window open just a little as well, however. Holy Christ! Does this woman ever do what she is told? The imprint of his wide hand outlined in red on her ass came to mind, and he suddenly flexed his clenched hand, his fingers spread as if to spank the delectable large mounds.
Grinding out his cigarette with the toe of his pointed cowboy boot, he opened the sliding door and moved to go back inside when he heard a noise that sounded almost like an animal in pain. Moving quickly across the short span to her bedroom door, he called, “Kathryn, is everything okay?” Silence greeted him in response.
He shrugged, figuring it must have been a cat in heat outside her window or the like. She did have the damned thing open. He should go in and close it for her, but he didn’t actually trust himself to walk through the room with her in such a state of undress. He’d be more than justified in doing so, of course, but the risks remained too great that no matter how it played out he would get fired. He couldn’t risk that. Nothing posed a threat outside. He’d just made sure of it. More than wide awake, vigilantly attentive, he’d hear any changes.
Leaving the sliding glass door open to catch the light breeze that had drawn up, but closing the screen door to keep the bugs out, he strolled back to the living room and flopped back down on the couch with an audible sigh. Turning on the television, he lowered the volume until he could barely hear it, and began to aimlessly channel surf again. How he hated the night shift; sometimes it could be so damn long. Pictures flashed before him, meaningless, too fast to even discern what they were. Not that it mattered.
Within moments the strangled sound rang out again. Jabbing the mute button, he immediately cut the sound to the television completely. Jason rolled up off the afghan-covered old furniture and trotted back to the sliding door. Damn it, he couldn’t see shit through the screen. Pushing the feeble visual obstruction to the side with a finger, he stepped out onto the brick-covered patio, slamming the flimsy, mesh-covered aluminum behind him.
Scanning the area once more, his steely gaze came to rest on the barest movement in a thatch of thick, shadowy green bushes about ten feet away. Glancing back at the entranceway to the condo and the curtain parted beside it, he crept over to the bushes, moving cautiously and quieter as he got closer. He launched himself at the shrubbery just as two cats darted out from beneath the boughs. He landed, hard, grabbing nothing but air.
“Shit!” Getting up and dusting himself off, he glanced around at the empty premises, thankful no one appeared to have witnessed his stupidity. Strolling back to the open door of the unit at a hurried pace, although he hated to prove Derrick right, he contemplated again about leaving this job. Some of the shit things he had to do just didn't seem worth the blow to his ego anymore. Besides, he'd been working for Pete for over a decade now, and he'd been seriously considering just focusing his efforts on the ranch before this job even came up. Sighing, he promised himself he'd give it one more week, his best shot, for his friendship, and because he knew Pete really needed him on this right now. The Senator was too big a client for Pete to lose, and Jason was the best man for the job. He just seriously hoped it didn't take that long to catch this jackass running about the streets causing havoc for the Senator and his daughter, not to mention all the guys at the agency.
Just as he moved to go back into the condo, the sound, more like a moan now, drifted to his ears again, but this time he heard it clearly coming through the open window of the bedroom. He hesitated for a moment, not really wanting to go looking in on her while she slept. If he didn’t look, though, she could be in some danger. It was his ass on the line as well as her life. Worst case, he might see that voluptuous body again, with those absolutely perfect boobs with their pink, ripe nipples. Groaning inwardly, he peeked through the window, observing her still on the bed, the sheet completely off this time. She couldn’t have looked more ideal, her body more inviting than she did; right down to her perfectly manicured patch of hair between her thighs. She was alone, thankfully, on all accounts. Ironically, with his thoughts constantly derailing to
devouring her well cared for human form, hearing her scream his name as he plunged deep into the heated apex between her thick thighs, he stood as the only true threat to her at this moment.
Just about to move away by sheer force of will, he detected something new in the vocal harmony emanating from her throat. Her guttural moans seemed to be akin to some sort of pleasure, apparently, despite the fact she remained alone. Obviously enjoying a nice dream. I can only guess what it's about.
He knew he should walk away, now, before he got himself in too deep. He shouldn't continue to gaze upon her with the physical reaction she had on him. Nothing actually threatened her. He didn’t have to save her from her dreams, or even nightmares. Regardless, he stood outside the window and stared like a perverted stalker. Oh dear lord, her long, dark auburn-streaked curls spread out on the pillow around her, that curvaceous body, and those long legs with the artfully painted crimson toes were near about killing him. Damn, he could imagine her solid thighs wrapped tight around his hips as he thrust into her heat. The mental combination stopped him. She was simply so damn distracting, so delicious, so...fucking perfect. He'd always found women with more meat on their bones to turn his crank a hell of a lot more than the skin-on-a-stick type. Skinny wasn't his thing. Well, if it weren't for her prissy little rich bitch attitude, and the fact he was on a job he was supposed to be focusing on, she'd be a perfect match for the type of woman he preferred.
Feeling a painful thickness begin to develop behind his zipper at her continued pleasurable sounds, knowing in his gut she must truly be enjoying something pretty heavy in her dreams, he moved just an inch to make himself a little more comfortable, leaning heavily against the wall. He watched, enraptured as she slid her hand from where she'd been fondling her breast to down between her creamy thighs, dipping into the crevice and back out, repeatedly, and ever so gently.
Oh shit, now he was well and truly hooked. This up close and almost personal show stimulated more than anything he'd perused over the Internet when his libido got the better of him and release was a necessity. He wasn't a porn addict or anything, not by a long shot, but he definitely admitted to enjoying the scenes created with the intent to help him along the way to self-satisfaction when necessary. He was human, after all.
He hated himself at the moment, though. Self-loathing and raging hormones battled within. Even as his conscience told him to step the fuck away from that window, right now, his traitorous body encouraged him to stay put. As much as he knew this was wrong, he was taking advantage of his charge's innocence which made him feel much like a dirty old man, he could not move away even if he wanted to–which, truth be told, he didn't want to at all. The universe evidently decided to justify his continued appreciation of this beautiful woman. Kathryn definitely no longer dreamed, and evidently decided to continue the gratifying activity that had begun in her dream.
As Jason watched, like the stalker he'd sworn to protect her from, she opened her legs to allow easier access. He had a perfect view of those pink, glistening lips as she continued to rub her clit with one perfectly manicured thumb. He groaned as two of her red-tipped fingers dipped lower and finally pushed into her glorious, slick pussy. Holy Christ, this was enough to make a man mad! Creeping her like this, he felt more like a 'Peeping Tom' then a bodyguard! This was so not in his employment description, but here he was.
Her fevered pitch had increased to quite a loud level he began to wonder if the neighbors would hear her. Knowing he’d lose his job, probably ending his career entirely and losing his best friend in the process if he were caught, he still could not tear himself away from the damn window and the extremely stimulating scene happening just on the other side of those curtains! He knew in his gut he was very close to embarrassing himself. Not to mention he had a lot to lose here. Oddly, none of it seemed to matter in the face of seeing her like this. Fragile, all the hoity-toity, holier-than-thou attitude had disappeared and in its place remained a woman so full of passion it intrigued him all the more.
She began to move her digit faster over her clit, dipping the other two in and out of her glazed core. Over and over she pressed inside herself, then added a third, stretching her pink, moistened labia wide, nearly driving him over the brink as he panted like a dog in heat outside the window. Kathryn pumped her hand into her heat, keening with what he assumed an elusive release. Getting so obviously frustrated, she pumped, rubbed, and flicked the swollen bud with the rounded tip of her fingernail. She thrashed her head side to side on the bed. With a deep growl slipping from her lips, she reached into the drawer beside the bed and produced a silver, bullet shaped vibrator. Turning the speed on a loud, rumbling high he heard clearly through the small opening in the window, she touched the buzzing phallus to the very tip of her swollen clit, jumping a little when it connected. Another very audible moan bubbled up from her throat, and Jason's jeans suddenly felt extremely constrictive.
Rubbing the sliver shaft over her clit a few times, dipping it into her wet channel, presumably to help it glide, she began to pant heavily as her orgasm drew nearer. He watched as that little silver bullet flew over her clit.
Undoing two of the buttons on his jeans to relieve some of the pressure in his aching cock, he continued to watch her as she bucked and moaned, shivering from the pleasure given by that little silver shaft. He could see clearly as the lips of her pussy opened and closed with each contraction of her orgasm, her back arched, giving him a delicious, teasing glimpses of her luscious ass. Oh god, he was so close to blowing his load just from watching this perfect creature as she pleasured herself. He would just about kill to be in that room right about now.
Could he? Would she welcome him to her bed, appreciate his advances and the option to have a man give her what she so clearly needed right now? Ignoring the niggling voice that told him he did not have the mental facility right now to be making any kind of reasonable decisions, he decided to go into her room and have it out with her right this minute. He had to do something, be it push things to the next level between them–which he knew would be a damning choice, but ignored anyway–or to turn the woman over his knee and teach her the linguistics of reality while under the care of his security in an effort to protect her. Damn it, he had to do something!
With little fear she would see him now, Jason almost ran into the condo. He tossed the sliding door aside, jogged through the living room, and flung open the door to her room. “Kathryn…?”
Looking over in his direction, her eyes still glazed from the nice little orgasm she had just had, the vibrator, still now, in her hand rested on the bed.
“Yes, Jason?” she purred at him.
“I-I heard noises,” he stammered his pathetic excuse to enter her room when he knew perfectly well what the noises had been. “Are you okay? Is there something you need?”
“Yes, Jason. I'm all right.” Her husky, sated voice alone proved almost enough to bring him to his knees at this point.
“Oh, okay.” He stammered as he began to close the door; cursing himself for even thinking his move could get him anywhere with her. After watching her, he was obviously not in his right mind. What in the hell had made him run in there like that? He was obviously delirious, tired, over-worked...whatever. His mind flew over the excuses he could give himself for his unusual behavior, coming up short at every turn.
“Jason, I do actually need something.” Her voice stopped him cold. He glanced back across the room at her, seeing her crystal blue eyes, hazed with endorphins, staring directly at him. Her body reclined lazily on the bed, uncovered, glistening with sweat, both from the heat of the night and from her little adventure with herself.
His cock still sat rock solid in his jeans, the top two buttons remained undone. He looked at her, thinking he must be nuts. She was not really asking...he must be imagining it.
As she slipped her pink tongue over her lips, coating them with glistening moisture, she gave him a knowing look. “May I have some water?”
"Yes, ma'am." His
heart beating quickly, he wondered if she had seen him at the window, known he’d watched her. He stood there, dumbstruck at her request. Here he was, hard as a rock, ready to do her bidding–anything she asked, especially after her little show–and she wanted water? On her bed, perfectly naked, legs slightly spread providing a tantalizing view of a hint of swollen pink pussy and a portion of her generous round ass, she seriously asked for a drink?
With a little laugh she looked at him, “Jason?”
Jason shook his head, trying desperately to rid himself of the mental images racing through him. She hadn’t yet tried in any way to cover herself from his view: her nakedness, the dripping wet sex toy she held. Surely she wanted him to see, to tease him. He couldn't afford to keep thinking this way or it'd be the death of him.