Lipstick & Miniskirts

by John Dylena

  But she wasn’t alone. In the almost-year that he had been dating Ashley, Mike had slept with two other women, not including Kristy. He had kept those successfully under wraps, but Kristy had managed to snake her way back into his mind and out his mouth when he should have screamed Ashley’s name.

  It wasn’t that Ashley wasn’t attractive or good at sex, nor was it that she was unavailable or emotionally distant. She was a good girlfriend—the perfect girlfriend, if there was such a thing. Mike was just a terrible boyfriend who couldn’t keep himself in check and let his desires and temptation often get the better of him.

  His previous girlfriend broke up with him because she caught him cheating on her. Unlike Ashley, his ex was terrible at sex and their relationship didn’t make it to two months.

  Ashley crawled away from him and covered her breasts with her hands as she screamed at him, asking him who this “Kristy” was and why did he call out her name during sex.

  Mike said nothing and her outbursts became muffled as he fell into deep thought, wondering if there was anything he could do to salvage this relationship. He leaned back onto his heels and dropped his head. He couldn’t even feel guilty for what he did.

  All he could do was lie and say that Kristy was his previous girlfriend and that it wasn’t a blonde stripper that he had a one night stand with. He muttered his horrible excuse and climbed off of the bed, pulling his boxers up as he went to pour himself a drink.

  The sobbing stopped and Mike heard the sound of a zipper. Minutes later Ashley came out of his bedroom, clothed with her purse in hand. Her makeup ran down her cheeks and her eyes were red. She fumbled with her key ring and a second later threw the key to Mike’s condo at him along with a fair amount of obscenities before slamming the door shut and walking out of his life.

  Or so he thought.

  Mike stared at the door for a long while, hoping that Ashley would come back. He frowned and set the glass down on the bar. Why would she come back to him? He’d cheated on her several times, and it was only the most recent affair that ruined a year-long relationship. The worst part was that he felt nothing—no guilt or remorse, no sadness or depression.

  Nothing.

  The lights in the kitchen were still on. The plates were still on the table and the candles were dark and cold. There were two empty bottles of wine and little food remained—not enough for leftovers.

  Mike remained silent as he cleared the table, throwing everything into the sink and deciding to do the dishes in the morning. She always liked doing the dishes, he thought as he scraped the remnants of food into the trash can. He returned to the living room with the unopened bottle of wine, replacing it with the rest of his wine collection and poured himself one last drink for the night.

  His car came for him earlier than he anticipated the following morning, and Mike was still fighting a mild hangover as he lurched out of his condo and down to the sleek black sedan waiting for him out on the street. He slouched in the shiny leather seat and loosened his tie as he stared out of the tinted window and watched the world pass by.

  Mike’s mind wandered, often coming back to Ashley in that sexy red dress. The guilt was finally hitting him, and he cursed the lack of a mini bar under his breath. He’d just have to charm the hopefully attractive stewardesses in hopes of getting extra bottles of whiskey on the flight.

  The flight was long, but reclining in first class made it pass by quickly. Security was a breeze and he only had to wait a few minutes for his luggage to arrive. It was late in the evening when he finally arrived at his hotel, and he had to fight the urge to stop by the bar.

  Sleep was what he needed, not booze. A visit to the hotel’s bar would come after sitting through hours of meetings and presentations the next day.

  Despite how tired his body was, Mike’s brain kept him up. He stared up at the dark ceiling above his queen-sized bed, tossing and turning as memories of Ashley’s tear-filled departure played over and over again in his head.

  He debated what he should do until the exhaustion finally kicked in and he fell asleep, only to wake up a couple hours later. She plagued him in his waking hours, tormenting him as if a spell—no, a curse was put upon him. Mike just barely made it through the endless meetings and as he crossed the polished marble floors of the hotel. He didn’t hesitate to sit down at the old wood bar on one of dark leather stools.

  The bartender smiled as he sat down, but her silent, cheerful greeting vanished as Mike rested his head in his arms and let out a heavy sigh.

  “Rough day?” she asked, cleaning a short glass.

  He looked up at her with tired eyes. The woman behind the counter was young, probably in her mid-twenties. Her brown hair was pulled into a tight bun and she wore a black long-sleeved button-down shirt. She was thin and pretty, with green eyes and full lips. She could have easily been a model, or a stripper if she wanted to.

  A quick glance from the neck down was enough for Mike. He didn’t need to stare long to know that underneath the uniform was a thin, curvy woman with good breasts and a nice ass.

  He scratched his cheek as she waited for him to reply. Only then did he realize that he hadn’t shaved in several days and that his scruff was turning into a beard. Mike recalled Ashley’s distaste for facial hair and how she always wanted him to keep his handsome face smooth.

  God damn it, there she is again.

  “Sir?”

  Mike sat up and straightened his tie. “Jack and Coke.”

  The cute bartender nodded and Mike looked back over his shoulder as she got his drink ready. It was still early, but there were others at the bar: businessmen and women having quiet discussions, an obviously European couple having drinks while looking over a map speaking in what sounded like German, and several exhausted-looking individuals with matching badges around their necks.

  He recognized them instantly, as a couple of his coworkers joked with Mike saying they were sending him to the comic convention instead of the business meeting. After a day like today, Mike would’ve rather wandered a crowded convention hall, looking at the men and women in cosplay and all the expensive memorabilia than attend long and boring meetings.

  Ashley would’ve come with him just to attend the con. When she wasn’t making him dinner in a short red dress and stiletto heels, she was in jeans and a t-shirt, her hair in a ponytail as she shouted into a headset microphone. Even when she was in an intense gaming session she was attractive. Many times she’d dragged him along to a midnight showing of some comic book movie, even convincing him to sit down and play Dungeons & Dragons with her not-surprisingly more nerdy friends.

  The cute bartender had long since placed his drink behind him as he stared at the crowd, and when he turned around to thank her, she was already at the other end of the bar chatting with one of the con-goers, his stuffed backpack and poster tube next to him on a stool.

  Mike lifted the drink and smiled. She’d made it extra strong. He kept his gaze on her until she looked his way and he silently raised the glass and smiled. She smiled back and returned to her conversation with the man wearing a Deadpool shirt.

  He thought about asking her for her number, maybe get her to go on a short date with him that would end with a night in his hotel room several floors above the bar where she worked. Then they silently part ways with her sneaking out of his room in the morning to get back to wherever she lived and he would shower then go to the airport.

  Instead, he slowly sipped his drink and kept his mind on business and not on the woman whose heart he’d broken days ago. Tonight he would get lots of sleep and he reinforced that plan with another Jack and Coke.

  The rest of the trip was as uneventful as the first day, and Mike was eager to get back home. His condo was dark and empty and he frowned as he stood in the center of the living room. If he hadn’t destroyed his relationship with the woman he very much loved, she’d probably be waiting for him here, wearing some sexy lingerie in a candle-lit room.

  I’ll call her tomorrow. Try
to apologize. I doubt she’ll forgive me. What woman in her right mind would?

  It was two months before Mike finally got a reply from Ashley. When he first called her, it went straight to voice mail. He didn’t bother leaving a lengthy, excuse-ridden message. Mike simply said that he fucked up, that he was sorry, and while he knew she wouldn’t take him back, that he’d do anything to make amends.

  Mike was in a meeting when she called. He had to double-check the caller ID to make sure it was her. He listened to the short message several times in disbelief.

  Ashley sounded completely different. Her voice was deep and sultry. She spoke slowly and with confidence and precision, saying exactly what she needed to say and ended without so much a goodbye. This was an entirely different woman than the one he’d dated. In the past, Ashley was scatterbrained on the phone, occasionally sounding like a ditzy blonde—like Kristy—with lots of umms and giggles. Her voice was soft and cheerful, bubbly even.

  This woman couldn’t be Ashley, and it filled him with both worry and curiosity. She wanted to meet him, even giving him a set time and place without negotiation. If you’re serious in your offer to make amends, come and meet me. If not, don’t ever contact me again.

  Mike listened to the message one last time then tossed his phone onto the desk. He paid little attention to work, his mind focused mainly on Ashley and the sound of her voice. Something had happened to her after she’d walked out on him. She sounded confident, demanding almost, and the thought of it sparked something inside of him he didn’t know he had.

  He shifted in his chair and frowned at the partial erection he had in his dark pants. Ashley had never been the dominant type. She tended to be shy and timid, except in the bedroom. It was like a switch. Ashley would go from a quiet, withdrawn woman to a jungle cat. She was a skilled lover who could prolong and build up Mike’s orgasms, making them so powerful they were better than any drug.

  But in the bedroom, Mike was the one on top. He called the shots and controlled the flow. As often as she pleasured him, Mike only ever reciprocated with vaginal sex. Ashley never complained. She was always tired and seemed wholly satisfied at the end of sex. If she desired some oral pleasure from Mike, she never said a word about it.

  Or she did, and I just ignored her. Mike frowned again, realizing how selfish he was in his relationship with Ashley. It only made the affair seem worse, and he slouched in his tall leather chair and made up his mind to meet her.

  He had to drive quickly to get her arranged meeting spot. Ashley didn’t give him much time to go from work to the small café a block away from her apartment. Her place was small and it looked more like a nerd bachelor pad than an apartment for a beautiful, seductive accountant. The vast majority of their time spent together was in his lavish, opulent condo.

  Mike almost didn’t recognize her.

  She sat at the corner table on the outdoor patio. Her hair looked more brown than it used to, and the red was more pronounced. She wore a black dress with dark red pumps and her long red nails tapped on the metal table as she eyed the menu.

  “Ashley?” Mike said as he slowly approached the table. Not only had she sounded different, but she looked different. It wasn’t that she’d gained or lost weight, or had cosmetic surgery—it was the air around her that Mike noticed. She exuded confidence and turned heads wherever she walked. It was likely the cleavage she showed off with her low neckline or the gold and diamond necklace that glittered in the sunlight.

  Ashley titled her head forward, and looking over her sunglasses, she smiled. It was a pleased smile, the look of a predator whose prey had just fallen into their trap. She didn’t even say “hello” or stand up to greet him. She motioned to the chair across from her and returned to her surveying of the menu.

  For the first time in as far back as Mike could remember, he was feeling meek and awkward, unsure of what to do or say. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ashley spoke first.

  “You know, I’ve been to this café many times. The food is good, the staff is friendly and it’s cheap as well. Yet every time I come here, I always stare at the menu for what feels like an hour trying to figure out what I want. I look over each item carefully, hoping my eyes catch something new or different.”

  She let out a sigh and tugged her lip with her index finger. Her gold bracelet reflected the sunlight directly into his eye and he flinched.

  “You brought me here just to—”

  “The menu is the same now as it was when I first came here the day I moved into my apartment. Sure, they’ll throw in a seasonal special like pumpkin pie during the fall, but for the most part that is the only change they bring to the menu.” Ashley kept talking as if thinking aloud and not aware of his presence.

  Mike looked around and picked up his menu. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he was quite thirsty. The days were short and the air was cold. Fall was all around them. The trees in the park across the street were full of brown and orange leaves.

  He motioned to the waiter and ordered a cup of coffee. Despite her ramblings about the menu, Ashley ordered a slice of pie and nothing else. When the waiter took their menus and left, Mike discovered that Ashley now stared at him intently.

  Her gaze was unsettling, as if she knew every dark secret he had, including the two other women he slept with in the first half of the year they dated. Mike shifted uncomfortably in his seat and was overjoyed at the arrival of his coffee. He looked away from Ashley as he drank it, but he could still feel the weight of her stare.

  She said nothing until she ate the last crumb of her pumpkin pie and Mike was on his third cup of coffee. “So, you’re serious about making amends, then?”

  “I am.” He nodded, happy they were finally discussing what he came to talk to her about.

  “I can’t just take your word for it. You know that, right? You have to prove it to me.”

  Worry overcame him as he wondered what she meant by it. “Like what?”

  “That is a matter to discuss in private,” she said as she licked her lips. “Would you like to come up with me to my condo?”

  “What happened to your apartment?” he said, waving his hand to the waiter holding a steaming coffee pot.

  “I guess you could say I outgrew it.”

  Mike flinched when he felt the foot rub the inside of his thigh. He looked down and saw Ashley’s stocking-clad toes inch closer to his cock. He raised his eyes and saw her staring at him over her sunglasses.

  “So, Mike. How about we take this to a much more private location?”

  It was strange. Never had Ashley been so aggressive in her advances. She was always playful and a tease, and Mike was the instigator. He would come onto her and she would submit.

  But this… this was something completely different. It was backwards in his mind. Ashley shouldn’t be the one stringing him along, luring him into her clutches like this. Yet he was powerless against it.

  His throat clenched up and his mouth went dry. He gripped the armrests of the metal chair as her foot stroked his growing erecting.

  Mike turned red and looked about him. There were people sitting in the tables next to them. All they had to do was look and they’d see her leg disappear in between his. Anyone would instantly know what was going on.

  What happened? What changed to make Ashley so extroverted and controlling? What made her throw her inhibitions to the wind? He had to know. He had to take her back to her new place and figure out why she was acting like this.

  Because it’s so damn hot.

  He gasped at the voice in his head. Never had he been so aroused at the thought of handing control over to someone else, to submit to a woman and do as she bid.

  Ashley rubbed him a little harder, and Mike took his hand off of the armrest to cover his mouth. She leaned forward and tugged down the front of her dress.

  He quickly slid back in his chair, moving out of reach of her foot. The sound that the chair made was loud and sudden, temporarily silencing the conversations going on a
t the other tables. Many folks turned toward Mike and stared at him for a moment before returning to their own business.

  Ashley’s foot was gone when he slid forward again. A quick glance under the table and he saw that it was back in her blood-red pumps. She laughed at his embarrassment.

  If Mike hadn’t moved away, he would’ve came in his pants. She’d brought him dangerously close. His heart raced and his head swam. Never before had it been so intense, so powerful. The woman sitting across from him couldn’t be Ashley. It just wasn’t possible.

  Suddenly she stood up, left a fifty-dollar bill on the table and walked away without so much as a word of warning. She didn’t even look back as she maneuvered through the other tables around her. At that moment Mike realized that he had no idea where her new condo was, and if he wanted to make amends with her, he had to get up and follow.

  The only problem was that he was still rock-hard in his trousers.

  It didn’t help that his eyes focused on her ass and legs as she walked, and he did the best that he could to not draw attention to the tent in his pants as he stepped off of the patio after her. Mike knew that half of the people saw his hard-on, and he knew better than to look back.

  “I see you’ve decided to join me,” Ashley said as he caught up to her.

  Not once on their trek across the street into the high-rise luxury condos did she look at him, nor did she speak another word to him until they arrived at her front door. Mike was anxious, nervous, and aroused all at the same time. Did she bring him up here just to have sex? Or would they actually be discussing the matter at hand?

  The living room alone was bigger than her old apartment. Mike stood in awe. There were no framed posters, no gaming memorabilia. She had a large flatscreen TV, but he saw no consoles.

  Ashley set her purse down on the small end table and let her hair down as she walked toward the ivory couch.

  “Ashley, what happened to you? You’re not the same woman that—”