A Taste of Pleasure

by Antoinette

  The next couple of days flew by as London worked feverishly planning, ordering, and researching. She was frequently called out to receive more deliveries and she directed the unloading at the barn, excited to inspect the quality of the various antique furnishings and amazing jewelry she had discovered. Max had been working at the store and was busy planning for his next projects.

  Before she knew it, it was Thursday afternoon and London hadn’t seen Max in what felt like forever. She was happy to finally see a text message from him: Meet me at the store, 5:00 p.m. this evening. Can’t wait to see you! She dressed casually and headed out, stopping to pick up the invitations, which were already printed, then proceeded on to the store. On the way, she saw Max’s truck at the park. She pulled into the parking lot and got out. There was commotion everywhere. London snuck over to the concession stand at the edge of the field to watch, pulling her hoodie over her head in the hopes that Max wouldn’t recognize her. She helped herself to a soft drink and a hot dog smothered in relish, then tried to blend into the crowd that had gathered as she observed Max surrounded by a number of little boys. They were little league toddlers, and he was patiently fitting them with their uniforms and coaching them. She moved closer and overheard him talking.

  “Hey, this fits you perfectly,” he said as he opened up another box of shirts and pants. Max placed a baseball hat on the little guy, then patted him on the head. The boy ran out onto the baseball field, excited with his new outfit. He waved frantically at his mother to watch him. London’s heart melted as she watched Max. She saw an expression she had never seen on his face before, a look of peaceful satisfaction. She puckered as she took another bite into the bitter relish, cringing as she realized her dreams were shattering. She knew Max could never be the one for her as she could never give him a child. She got back into her car, her eyes tearing. She sat watching the activities on the field, blissful children in the beautiful park, flowers blossoming, seedlings sprouting up, and nature coming to life all around her.

  London pondered a recent discussion she’d had with her doctor regarding children. She’d explained the horror stories her grandmother had shared. London’s mother had severe issues with high blood pressure, seizures, and toxemia, or preeclampsia as it was now known. The condition had advanced to eclampsia and London’s mother had nearly died several times during the pregnancy and childbirth. Her mother spent weeks in a coma after giving birth. Everyone had been concerned for the two of them, especially for London because she had missed out on critical bonding time with her mother in the first weeks of her life. Thankfully, her mother had recovered well, but many relatives had experienced the condition in London’s family, and some of the women had even died giving birth decades ago. It was undoubtedly hereditary, and the family history made it probable that London would experience the same complications.

  London was never sure if she even wanted children in the first place since much of her own childhood had been so horrific and traumatic. She didn’t feel confident about her own ability to raise a child and wasn’t sure she wanted to risk her life to have one. After learning of the hereditary condition, she had all but written having a family right out of her mind. She recalled how very professional the doctor was, informing her of many options such as surgery, in vitro fertilization, adoption, and more, but London glazed over, hearing only bits and pieces of the information. She felt that the condition was simply confirmation from a divine source that she was not meant to have children, a fact that she had pretty much already come to terms with quite some time ago. She had thanked the doctor and let her know that she would follow up for further consultation if she ever changed her mind.

  Despite her strong internal coping mechanisms, London still felt tears forming in her eyes as she watched Max on the distant field. Damn useless hormones, she thought. She knew she would have to set him free soon, but she didn’t know exactly how. She looked at the clock. It was 4:30 p.m. She started the Beemer and drove to the store.

  The building was almost ready, and she reveled in the beauty and the spaciousness of the rooms. So much had been accomplished since she had been there on Monday. Max arrived shortly after her and was watching her admire the wonder of his work.

  “Like it?” he asked as he moved closer to her, massaging her neck and shoulders, sending chills up her spine

  “Yes, Max, it’s wonderful.” She smiled as she turned around and kissed him.

  “Mmm,” he whispered. “I’d love more of you right here.” He cupped her face and kissed her on the mouth. She responded with a warm, tender kiss in return. He reached down under her buttocks and pushed them toward him with such strength that it took her breath away.

  “Let’s try to stay focused,” she said in a scolding tone as she smiled and gently pulled away. She was busy visualizing her furniture in the building and he was simply distracting. She continued to walk the floors, pointing to where she was going to put everything. Max followed closely behind and whispered in her ear.

  “I want you tonight.”

  She just smirked as they wrapped up their review of what remained to be done. After they’d finished, he followed her to the château. On the way, she drove past the Sweat Shop, a private exercise club, and she smiled, remembering when she’d had had quite an affair with her kickboxing trainer from the club. That affair had lasted about a year and the sex was wonderful, but he got serious and she backed away. He just wasn’t what she wanted. He was too into himself, always primping and preening, and it bothered her after a while. Once the passion had subsided, there was nothing left. He was all brawn with no brains or romance.

  She smiled and shook her head at how promiscuous she had been and the lifestyle she used to live. Thankfully, she had matured and finally realized that many men were not her answer to finding happiness. Only the right man would make the difference. She thought, You choose your own happiness and the path you choose is the one you live, another quote from Catherine’s Life Lessons. She had now chosen a path that was leading her to a more stable lifestyle.

  London pulled into the driveway as those memories drifted away. Those days were gone. She was feeling contented with Max, but still thought of Deacon, the love of her life, every day and how much she missed him. She still clung to the hope that he would somehow find his way back into her life. She also worried about how serious Max seemed to be getting, especially with the invite to his family gathering. How can I ever tell him that we would never have a family of our own? He adores kids and it would break his heart.

  She went inside and distracted her thoughts by starting to cook dinner while Max showered. She smiled as she sat down at the table, feeling a tingle in the pit of her tummy. Max dressed and went back down to the garage. When he reemerged in the kitchen, he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He gave her a light kiss as she thanked him, then she turned to finish preparing dinner. He grabbed her, turning her back around to kiss her again, more passionately this time.

  “No little peck kisses for me, sexy lady,” he said.

  She smiled. “But what about the dinner?” She tried to turn away again, but he held her tightly as he kissed her again and again. She succumbed to his advances. He carried her upstairs, where he placed her on the bed.

  “The stove is still on,” she pleaded, dazed from his intoxicating kisses. He put his finger on her lips to shush her, then left the room. Upon returning, he continued his sexual advances on her, as her body reached out for his in return. He slowly undressed her, then pulled his clothes off and carried her to the shower, where they both enjoyed the warm water on their bodies. He knelt down and opened her legs as his tongue found its place. He licked her intensely as she pulled his head toward her breasts. She felt uncomfortable not having his hardness in her hands, but he soon returned to her lips with wet, warm kisses. They engulfed her to the point of her not caring about anything else but the desire between her legs. He pulled her to him, grabbed her ass, and lifted her up.

  As her legs went aroun
d him his maleness entered her and she screamed with delight. He held her there as he pumped into her hard, slow strokes, his hands holding her up in the air and his hardness penetrating her to the depths of her body. She was in another world, one she so enjoyed as he continued to take her this way. He finally sped up as she felt herself submitting to him. Her body shook from the passion and the climax she was feeling. This was the part she loved so much . . . these feelings . . . she did not want to come again right now, her nipples—her button—her body all ready for another explosion that was oh so close.

  She finally let go as she yelled, “Yes . . . oh my God!” Her body shook as he shot into her. She could feel it as her muscles tightened and relaxed, milking his maleness for all it had. He held her tight, their juices mixing and trickling down her legs. The warm water touched her sensitive skin, his kisses calming her down, while his hands were massaging her butt and her back. Her body responded by relaxing in his strong arms. He gently set her down and held her close as they stood in the warm mist. He opened the shower door and placed a terry cloth robe around her and grabbed one for himself. He pulled her to him and kissed her again. They left the bathroom together and walked down the stairs.

  “How about ordering pizza for dinner?” he said as he looked at the cold, half-cooked food on the stove. He picked up the phone as she smiled and nodded yes with a wink.

  She snuggled in his arms, eating pizza and drinking red wine while watching the blazing fire. He finally carried her up to bed, and together they collapsed with exhaustion into the coziness.

  London woke up on Good Friday to Max’s whistling coming from the kitchen. She put on her robe and found him standing by the stove making scrambled eggs with ham and cheese, toast, and bold Brazilian brew. He had cleaned up the mess from last night and everything looked sparkling clean. He served her, kissed her warmly on the lips, and joined her at the table, all set with place mats and the flowers he had bought last night.

  “This is wonderful,” she said as she took her first bite. He smiled. It had been a long few days without him. She watched him eat with great gusto as a nagging feeling crept over her. Her mind revisited the little league game from the day before and her heart ached. She knew that his love for children would eventually come between them. She admired his features, so strong, yet he was so kind and gentle. He was not a very complicated person at all. He was confident, he knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. She smiled to herself as she realized she was also becoming very confident in herself, with much thanks to him.

  She browsed through some photos she had on her cell phone of the merchandise she’d ordered. “Look, Max,” she said as she shared the pictures with him of the articles that were stored in the pole barn.

  “Most of them are here,” she said. “I’m just waiting for a few more pieces, and then I’ll have them all.” He looked at the many beautiful purchases and nodded approvingly.

  “You know, we can start to move most of these articles and furniture in by the end of the month.” As he spoke, London’s eyes sparkled as if he had turned on a light inside her. She could hardly wait! “Would you like me to install the chandelier today?” he asked.

  “Oh yes, and may I watch too? Then when I get home, I’ll prepare the invitations to be sent out for the ball, now that I know when the store will be finished!” she replied eagerly.

  “I’ll protect the chandelier with a plastic tarp in case of some dust from the drywall and sanding of the walls and floors, but they’re coming along well.” London finished her breakfast, watching Max in the pole barn, loading the chandelier. He told her that he would wait for her to arrive at the store before he hung it, so she hurried with the rest of the cleanup, dressed, and met him at the shop.

  The little French antique store was finally taking shape. She could not help but feel nostalgic as she watched the parquet flooring being laid in the dining room. She so appreciated Max’s employees working on Good Friday. They didn’t seem to mind, and she knew that Max took good care of them pay-wise for their efforts. Everything brought back memories of Versailles, especially the chandelier, which Max was now hanging. It looked quite elegant in the dining room. The transition from that to the tile that was going into the front room was dramatic. Stepping down one level, there was a formal front room that put one in a different world. The wall of leaded glass windows was to the right and the fireplace setting was on the back wall, with shelves for knickknacks and one large portrait of Louis XV over the mantel, which completed the room. Backing out of the front room and stepping up past the entrance way was the doorway to the dining room. She was very pleased. The fireplace was gorgeous and the burners were already installed. The artificial wood was ready for lighting with the push of a hidden button to ignite the gas fireplace. The wainscoting was done to perfection and the pillars framing the doorway were the perfect touch.

  She thought about the masquerade ball. The gathering would be held in the store on Friday night before the grand opening on Saturday, which was the sneak-preview auction. Then on Sunday, sales would take place. She couldn’t wait to write the invitations, and that job would be done this weekend. She enjoyed the artistic pastime of writing calligraphy, appreciating what Grams had taught her. She was very talented. She also planned to stamp each envelope with a wax seal of the king of France. She would have them in the mail by Monday, in plenty of time for the first weekend in May. Max headed out to another job, and she was excited to get back home to start addressing the invitations.

  Saturday evening, Max called and asked London to meet him at Pop’s Pool Hall. He was heading there with his crew for burgers and beers. She dropped her pen and tucked the invitations away on her desk. She threw on sexy jeans and sweater, jumped in the Beemer, and raced to the bar. She parked and popped her trunk. She took out her leather bag with a pool stick that she always carried with her. It had been a long time since she had seen Pop, her friend, and tonight was a good time to visit with him. When she opened the door, Pop was standing in the corner. “Well, these old eyes can’t believe what they are seeing,” he said as he walked around toward her and gave her a big hug. “Hey, hon, how are you doing?”

  “I’m great, and how about you, Pops?” She smiled, remembering he had been one of her grandmother’s lovers. In his prime he was a handsome dude. Now age and drinking had taken its toll. “How’s business?” she asked.

  “Could be better; business is not like it was when you were here. What are you doing with yourself these days? Staying out of trouble, I hope?”

  “I’m trying. I’m opening up a new business down the street from you in a few weeks. It’s an antique store.”

  “Sounds like a full-time job.” He laughed, showing his lack of teeth. She hugged him and walked over to the pool tables. She was looking for Max and wanted to run a few pool balls at the same time. It had been a long time since she had visited the old pool hall. Pops and her had a close friendship. He had showed her how to play pool several years ago. He kind of took the place of her dad. Looking over the pool hall, she didn’t see Max. She walked around the tables, rubbing her hands over the felt, feeling the rim. Then she laid the leather bag down, unzipping it. She pulled out her pool stick and put it together. It was her favorite stick. It had been a graduation present from Pops and it was accurate. She chalked up the end of the stick as Pops racked up the balls.

  He watched his prize pupil approaching the head ball. Her breasts almost touched the table as she bent down, with the pool stick projecting from her hand. She slid it slowly through her fingers back and forth a few times. A few guys walked over to watch her, and she recognized some of them from Max’s crew at the store. She felt their eyes on her as she stroked the pool stick in and out many times. She finally hit the ball, with a crack that shocked them all. She walked around the table, her body moving slowly as she eyed her next shot. She had an audience and she was thriving on playing up to them.

  She looked toward the doorway and saw Max and Bud enter the poolroom
. Max walked toward London and asked her if she would like to play him. She agreed, knowing he was a top pool shark. She had him rack them up again. He hit the head ball and the other balls went scurrying all over the table. He chose solids, which gave her stripes. He walked around, eyeing the best shot he could find, one that would put his cue ball right where he wanted it for the next shot. He hit the ball and it went in where he wanted it to, but the cue ball didn’t stop where he had hoped it would. It was London’s turn. She eyed her play and hit it right on target. Max looked at her like he had been slapped. She ran the table for a few minutes. When it was his turn, the cue ball was far from where he wanted it and he missed, which set her up perfectly. She made the shot and ran the table, putting the eight ball in the side pocket.

  He looked at her devilishly. “Let’s play another one,” she suggested as the two other men left the room, leaving her and Max alone. He agreed and went behind her, whispering in her ear.

  “If I win, I get you for the night.” She couldn’t let this go. She enjoyed Max so much and wanted him in the worst way. He walked around the table behind her, touching her butt as she bent down to hit the ball. His touch sent chills up her spine. She missed on purpose. He had a wonderful run on the table. It was her turn as she lined up her shot, bent forward, and moved her butt, tantalizing him on purpose. She spread her legs far apart as she placed the pool stick between her two fingers and slid it in, looking him straight in the eyes. She looked at the shot and let it go. Her ball went in the pocket and the cue ball replaced itself where she wanted it. She moved over for her next shot. She closely eyed the shot as it was the one she was famous for and she could make it easily. After studying it for a moment, she decided that he was more important than winning. She let the stick go, missing the shot completely. It was his turn. As he rubbed past her, his hardness began to show. She wanted him so badly and smiled at the effect she was having on him as he finished the game and won. He came over and grabbed her around the waist and kissed her passionately. “You have teased me enough for one day, my precious one. Now you’re going to pay.” Together they walked out of the hall to separate cars. He followed her home, both of them speeding down the road.