by Sex, Nikki
"Your backside is going to be a delicious shade of red," Kurt said, his voice a husky murmur. "A lovely color - kind of like the fall leaves that are just on the turn right now in Central Park."
Carmen barked out loud with laughter. "Such poetry, Kurt," she said. "What a romantic. I should have expected it. Go on. This enticing scene is working. I'm with you. Let's hear the rest."
He grinned and squeezed her hand.
Hot damn the man is gorgeous, she thought. With that sculptured masculine jaw, high cheekbones, long blonde hair and big toothpaste ad smile. How fortunate was it that she had walked in on him as she had? Could it be that her luck was changing? There he had been, the 'God of Thunderous Orgasms,' ready to screw her senseless.
"You're going to be lying down, holding behind your knees, spreading yourself for my utter delight and pleasure," Kurt added. "That is until I get to just where I want to be, anyway."
"Oh yeah?" she asked. "And where is that?"
"Why do you think I brought that lube?" he chuckled. "I can tell you right now, despite how things worked out, that lube wasn't meant for my backside. After we eat I'm going to have you on your back over the arm of this couch. Then I'm going to watch you masturbate, while I fuck you up the ass."
Carmen's entire body heated and her throat moved in a hard swallow.
"Would you like that, Carmen?" he asked in a low, seductive voice. "Would you like me to push my big cock deep into your ass?"
Wildly turned on by his coarse language, and the continuous, sensual caress of her hand, Carmen found herself unable to speak. In fact she was beginning to feel a little lightheaded and giddy.
Did she want him to fuck her there? Hell yes! She wanted Kurt to take her in every way possible.
Not only that, she wanted him to keep her forever and for always.
Now where did that thought come from?
Off balance from the intensity of feelings he created, Carmen turned to humor. She thought she may reply, "If it pleases you, Sir," as a kind of flippant, non flippant sort of joke. But somehow her submissive answer was way too close to the truth. Right now she felt that there was nothing she wouldn't do just to make him smile.
In the end, breathless and confused, when she met Kurt's penetrating gaze, Carmen could only nod.
19. An Interruption
Kurt smiled and kissed her knuckles. "I didn't think that you would have any problem with my little anal fantasy, Carmen," he said. "Alrighty then. That's a yes to a spanking and then to a butt fucking."
Carmen decided that Kurt already knew her body so well that he probably didn’t need her to speak. She liked that about him, that when he asked a question he could read the answer from just observing. She also liked that he was easygoing about the unimportant things. His manner put sex into the realm of exhilarating, surprising, utterly satisfying, and mind-blowing fun.
Kurt was still playing with her hand. He slipped her thumb into his mouth and sucked. Then he took it out and licked it slowly and suggestively, while intently studying her response. Taking her entire hand into his, he nibbled and licked her knuckles. When he gave the fleshy part of her palm a sharp bite, Carmen sucked in a sharp breath, and then exhaled with a sigh of pleasure.
Pleased with her reaction, a satisfied little smile played about his mouth.
"I may even redden your pussy, too," he added with a playful lilt to his voice. "Would you like that, Carmen? A number of hard sharp slaps on that sweet cunt? I could warm it up for you so it matches your butt cheeks. Do you want your cunt and clit red hot, both tingling and throbbing? It will intensify your orgasm. And you know that I'll let you climax – oh, lots and lots of times."
Still speechless, her throat thick with lust, Carmen just shook her head helplessly.
He laughed, undisturbed by her silence. "I love watching you come, Carmen," he said, kissing, licking and nipping the inside of her palm. "First your body twitches as if you're being electrocuted. Then you scream and writhe, just like you're on fire - not to mention how hard you clamp down on an unsuspecting man. You are so fucking hot, Carmen. I honestly can't recall anyone who has pleased or aroused me more than you have."
His interest, his complements, and his generous praise all warmed her, creating a happy glow inside. But the raunchy, erotic words he spoke made her entire body burn even brighter, craving sex.
Carmen shut her eyes for a moment as a fierce shiver of fresh lust and need pulsed through her.
Kurt stroked her cheek. She looked up and saw that his green eyes were dark and hungry. "You know what gorgeous?" he said, his voice low and seductive. "I suspect that you're a wanton slut for every empty hole you've got. And I'm just the man to fill them all. Jesus, Carmen, we are completely sexually compatible. This is the real deal."
He bent and gave a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I don't think this kind of instant sexual chemistry comes around that often. At least I haven't found it to be the case. I swear to God, sweetheart. I bet that you and I could spend three weeks in a room alone together and never once get bored."
She wanted to laugh, but she just couldn't. He was so right. Still unable to make a sound, Carmen nodded and swallowed in a very dry throat. Wow. She couldn't get over the vision of three weeks alone with the 'God of Thunderous Orgasms.'
"I want to see you again," he said.
Carmen looked away, knowing she shouldn't risk it, not with her life as it was. Robert Ellis was rich, powerful and crazy. By now he had a hundred private detectives after her. If he found Kurt and her together, the jealous psycho nut job would probably find a way to beat them both to death.
Then there was the issue with the Mex mafia, La eMe. What had possessed her to take that ledger? Except at the time she was thinking of leverage on Robert. She had FedEx'd the original back to him, but did they know that she had a copy? Was La eMe after her, too?
Man I am so fucked, she thought with a sigh. How did my life get so complicated? Maybe I should confide in Kurt?
Whoever Kurt was he seemed to at least have money. He would have powerful friends, too. Perhaps he could help. But would he want to get involved? Would anyone? And did she dare trust him? When every time she had trusted she had simply gotten into more trouble?
Carmen wanted to confide in him. It would be difficult to explain because she felt so embarrassed and ashamed. Would Kurt despise her if she told him the truth?
I don't think I could stand seeing rejection and disgust in those beautiful green eyes, she thought.
What a mess.
Carmen pulled her fingers out of his grip. A sudden onset of nerves made her clasp her hands together protectively on her lap. Then she sat forward and away from him on the couch, trying to clear her head and measure out the possibilities.
Kurt would no doubt spurn her if he had any idea of her checkered past.
After her upbringing, Carmen would have thought that she would have been smarter, yet she had still been so naive. Soooo soooo stooopid!
I thought I was in love, she remembered, justifying her behavior. But love is for suckers. Everything had turned to shit, all because of her silly childish dreams of true love and happy ever after.
"Carmen," Kurt said with a tiny edge to his voice. "I said that I wanted to see you again, and then you went all quiet on me."
"I don’t know," Carmen said, still thinking it through. "It's just… well, that probably isn't a good idea."
"What?" Kurt snapped after her long hesitation and obvious uncertainty. "You don’t know if you can see me again? Why not?" he asked, sitting back with a dark, angry frown. His green eyes flashed. "I don’t see the problem. Isn't my money as good as the next man's?"
While Carmen tried to process this comment, she heard the suite door open. Two people walked in, a woman first, followed by a man. They didn't even pause in their stride as they calmly took in Kurt and Carmen's nakedness.
The woman was tall, blonde and dressed like a hotel maid. She strutted into Kurt's room with a sexy, confident walk be
fore either of them had time to react.
Stunned, Carmen just stared in baffled astonishment.
Carmen didn’t recognize the woman – and her hotel maid uniform wasn't quite right. Was it a slightly different color? Not beige, more tan? At any rate it was far too small and tight for those massive boobs of hers. The woman looked dressed for sex. The big man came along right behind her – was he a security guard?
What the hell?
"Oh," The woman said gaily. "I wasn't told this was going to be a threesome. I'll have to charge you extra for that."
What? WTF is going on?
Carmen's mind finished processing. Like turning on a light in a dark room – she suddenly saw and understood. The maid with her big breasts pouring out of her dress. The sketchy massive pimp beside her. Kurt's confusion, "Do you only work in this hotel?" and that comment, "Why not? Isn't my money as good as the next man's?"
This voluptuous blonde woman in the tight maid outfit was here for him, Kurt Neilson. Kurt was rich and really good looking. Why would a man like him pay for sex?
Yet it all made sense now.
She recalled Kurt's immediate reaction when she had first come into his suite. That explained why he hadn't even asked her for sex - he had just taken. How come she didn't think of that at the time? What had she been thinking?
But of course she hadn't been thinking at all.
Kurt must have ordered in a call girl, and paid for her services already – probably over the phone. He had obviously thought that Carmen was the woman that he had procured, because she was dressed in a maid's uniform,
Kurt Neilson had assumed that she was a prostitute.
And I am so needy and desperate and stupid that I acted like one, Carmen thought, despising herself. Oh my God.
A familiar breathless panic rose up inside her. Carmen's mind may have been slow at the start, but it was working now. Besides, she was well versed with the survival mechanisms involved in running away. While not always successful, Carmen had a whole lifetime of knowledge and experiences from her numerous efforts to escape trouble.
A heated spike of adrenaline boiled though her veins. Almost without thought she acted instantly. Jumping up, she grabbed Kurt's white terrycloth robe, and sprinted to the suite door, opening and running through it.
Fast as a fleeing rabbit, she shot out of the room. The last thing she heard was Kurt's voice.
"Carmen wait!" he shouted desperately.
But then she was sprinting down the stairwell and she could hear nothing more.
End of Part 1
Carmen’s New York Escape
1. Gone
"Mon ami, I recommend first to learn your own weaknesses, and become master of yourself. Then you can successfully learn to master a sub."
--- André Chevalier, conversation with Kurt Nielsen
~~~
Where the hell is she? Kurt Nielsen wondered, staring out of the window, down onto Central Park. He had been waiting in the hotel suite for over an hour since Carmen had run off.
Thirty year old Kurt Nielsen, New York's most eligible bachelor, paced his deluxe parkview suite with anxious electric energy. After being taken to court by his girlfriend, the whole subject of women had left a bad taste in his mouth. Consequently he had spent the last four months without sex.
Sick of his black moods, Kurt's friends bought him a high class call girl. Because what could be better than a high-class hooker to cheer him up? The working girl was supposed to arrive at the Ritz-Carlton dressed as a hotel maid, with an entire scene arranged.
Things didn't go as planned because he arrived at the hotel two hours early, and the first maid that had come into his room was not a hooker. That was where he had made a big mistake. Frowning, Kurt ran a hand through his long blonde hair. But hey, it was a mistake anyone could make, right?
Kurt opened the mini bar and this time poured himself a Jack Daniel's. Only whisky would take the edge off. Where was she?
When Carmen ran out of his hotel suite he had run after her without thinking, but at least she had been wearing his bathrobe. He had been naked. Small as she was, she was also quick as a cat, and had blasted down the stairway before Kurt could catch her. As he was nude, he had no option but to return to his suite to wait.
Kurt drank his shot of whisky straight, enjoying the heated bite of it. Then he put his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans and kept pacing, his mind on Carmen.
Just the thought of the woman gave him a serious hard on.
What was it about her? Cute, sexy and fun - Kurt simply had to see her again. And fuck her again, too, he decided wryly. There was so much he wanted to do with her. He couldn't recall anyone who turned him on as much as Carmen had.
He recalled her mischievous dark eyes and quirky smile when she said to him, "I have to tell you, Thor, that you really know how to use this cock of yours. I mean honestly, you are a fantastic fuck. You make my eyes cross and my heart stop and I swear to God the things you can do with this cock? Well, you should write it up in a book somewhere to help other men learn how to use their own penises to properly please a woman."
Kurt smiled with the memory. She had named him "Thor" like he was some sort of God or something. I felt like a God when I was with her, too, he thought with a wistful exhalation of breath.
After pouring through Carmen's clothes, he had found what looked like a bus locker key, a house key – and nothing else. Her name tag, which was attached to her keys, had the name "Lucille Guzman," which made no sense at all. Why had she lied about her name?
A knock on the door caught all his attention. Yes!
Kurt strode over and pulled it open with a smile. But it wasn't Carmen. A small Hispanic maid, about fifty years old, stood before him. He gestured her inside.
"Señor," the maid began, "I have been asked to come and pick up the keys that were left here by Lucille.
Oh no you don't, he thought. Kurt wasn't going to let this poor woman off easily. He needed information. "Please, sit down," he said.
"Oh, Señor," she protested, throwing both hands in the air. "I cannot."
"It won't take long," he said confidently, gesturing her to a nearby chair. "Please."
Clearly uncomfortable, the woman sat right on the very edge of a wingback chair. Kurt settled himself near her on the couch. The couch that he had, not that long ago, enjoyed amazing sex with Carmen on. His balls tightened with the memory.
"Carmen doesn’t want to see me?" he asked.
"I do not know Carmen. Do you speak of Lucille?"
Kurt frowned remembering the keys with the name Lucille Guzman on them and then nodded. "Yes, Lucille."
"No, I am sorry. She says does not want to see you. She begged for me to come instead, because she needs the keys."
Kurt exhaled a long breath out. "Do you know why she won't see me?"
"No."
Kurt didn't know what to do. Carmen was in this hotel somewhere, but he couldn't very well strangle the information of her whereabouts out of this woman. Somehow he had to get Carmen to come to him. Was she just embarrassed because Kurt had stupidly assumed that she was a prostitute? Had she been ashamed perhaps, that she had been so sexually needy?
Kurt swallowed, his throat dry, recalling just how horny Carmen had been. Wet, willing, wanton, and tight. Let's not forget that. Man, oh man, she had really had needed to be fucked, and didn't he just love giving it to her? Damn. He wanted to give it to her again.
But why was she using a false name? What was her story? It made no sense.
"Please wait just a moment," Kurt said. "Can I give you a note to take to…ah, Lucille? I really want to see her, and I don’t want to go through the concierge and maybe get her into trouble with her employers."
"She has quit this job, Señor," the woman said.
"What? Why?"
The woman shrugged.
Kurt held up his index finger. "This won't take a minute," he assured, and went to sit at the Chippendale mahogany desk. He wrote
on hotel stationary, in his bold script:
My Dear Carmen,
I don’t understand why you ran. I can see why I should have felt humiliated, but not you. I really want to see you again. Why you are using that name? I have to assume that you are in some sort of trouble.
Carmen, you and I clicked and you know it. I really like you and I must see you again. Will you please let me explain? Call me anytime – my cell number is on the back of my business card.
Kurt Nielsen
PS: I'm concerned that I made you lose your job, in fact I'm sure that it's my fault. Please take this money as reparation to help out until you get another one. This is the only cash I had on me and I hope it is enough. Call me anytime. If there is anything I can do to help you I swear to God that I will drop everything and do just that.
Kurt took a business card out of his wallet, and wrote his unlisted phone number on the back. He paper clipped the card to the letter, then put both in an envelope along with almost all the money he had – about three-hundred dollars. He added Carmen's keys, and then sealed the letter.
He stood up and held the envelope and a fifty dollar bill out to the maid. "Do you mind seeing that she gets this?"
The woman took the money and the envelope. "Thank you, Señor."
"¡Muchas gracias!" he said. "I appreciate you taking this to her."
Kurt wanted to follow the woman. He wanted to ask her to tell Carmen that he was sorry and that he had to see her – but he forced himself to watch the Hispanic maid leave and kept his mouth shut.
It was all up to Carmen now.
For a moment Kurt recalled her first orgasm under his hands, how explosive it was, and how she had burst into shattering tears of release. Jesus. Her pupils had been so dilated that her glazed, heavy-lidded eyes were completely black. Tear tracks shimmered down her cheeks. The woman had that classic "just been laid look" on her face. Carmen's long hair had been spread out in a dark fan over the end of the couch.
A strand of those silky tresses had been stuck to her flushed and sweating face. When he had gently brushed it back, Carmen had gazed up at him as if he was the only thing in her universe.