Around the World in 80 Men

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Around the World in 80 Men Page 2

by Brandi Ratliff


  Then she turned to the side, seeing that her ass stuck out just enough to make a pair of jeans look good. That was her favorite feature, but she rarely tried to bring attention to it. Back to the front, she looked at her stomach. It was fairly flat, but lacked the definition that she envied on some of the girls that she would see on the beach.

  “I suppose I'm no better or worse than the other women who do this.” Do this? She spoke the words as if her mind was already made up. But that couldn't be, she thought, because she hadn't even passed the test yet. Her thoughts went to Jack, and her heart started racing all over again.

  She pictured the ass in her mind. Six feet two inches of hunk. He was exactly her type, the dick type. She chased guys like Jack, longed for them when she wasn't chasing one. Jack; a guy that was gorgeous, self centered, borderline rude in public, and great in bed. She'll never understand what she saw in guys like Jack. Guys that had no regard for her whatsoever. She used to wonder if she just wanted to change them, or if it was just the challenge of a guy like that taking notice of her. But she gave up trying to figure it out, and resigned herself to the fact that she liked asshole men.

  With her history, she really didn't know if she could get his attention, then walk away from him. If she was good enough, and he wanted more, could she say no? She had no idea, but she would soon find out.

  As she got dressed, choosing a pair of straight leg distressed jeans and an Ohio State sweatshirt, she began to realize that it would take more than just having sex. Much more. She would need to play the part, and make him believe that she wanted him. That's what they would be paying her for. Both her acting and sexual abilities.

  When she was dressed, she brushed out her long hair as she stared into the mirror. “I should have joined the drama club in school.” Acting, that's what she would have to do. Obviously, her normal self didn't bring millionaires to her front door. She couldn't even give it away at that point.

  Morgan spent the rest of the afternoon trying her best not to think of the future. She decided that she would either have the ability to do it, or she wouldn't. She watched four movies, back to back, of bone crushing horror flicks. They always took the edge off when she needed a distraction. For the most part, it had worked, but it was nearing nightfall and Mr. Experiment would possibly arrive shortly.

  She had put the final touches on her appearance by eight o'clock. She wore a short black cocktail dress, normally reserved for her second date, that was held at the shoulders by narrow black strings that were attached with dark pink roses at the chest. She wore her hair down, as Jack had mentioned once that he liked it that way, and she had put a few large spiral curls throughout. Her light green eyes were brought to the forefront by a touch of sable eye color, and a thin line of brown eyeliner. Her lips were lined with a deep mauve, and the fullness of her lips filled with a color one step lighter. She applied only a hint of blush on her high cheek bones, and topped it all off with a shiny gloss that was guaranteed to last through the night.

  “Not this night, I hope.” She put the gloss down, and walked with confidence to her kitchen. Once there, another bottle of Moscato had just met its maker.

  Two servings in, Morgan nearly dropped her glass when she heard the beginning to her new life. The doorbell.

  Chapter Three

  “Oh dear, he came. He came. He actually came!” Morgan continued expressing her surprise as she frantically scanned her little apartment for anything out of place. She had never really expected him to show up. Sure, it had been a subconscious hopeful thought, but consciously, she was hoping he wouldn't show, or perhaps get hit by a car along the way. Not seriously injured, of course. Just enough to postpone the rendezvous.

  She wrapped her fingers around the silver knob on the door, just as the doorbell sounded again, causing her to jump back and nearly fall as her four inch heel twisted against the carpet.

  Once again, she grabbed the knob, this time accomplishing a full turn, and slowly opened the door. She couldn't help the butterflies that instantly swarmed in her stomach, and certainly couldn't avoid the smile that spread across her face.

  There he was, standing in her hallway. On one hand, she wanted to ravish him right then and there, on the other, she wanted to punch him right in that prominent jaw...caress her fingers across that neatly shaven goatee, kiss those luscious lips, don't even get her started on those icy blue...shit.

  Morgan halted her daydreaming in time for him to barge through her arm that had been propped against the doorway. Morgan kept her huff to herself and watched him, well, his ass, walk into her kitchen and find its place at her little two-person table.

  He grabbed an apple from the blue bowl in the center of the white table and lifted his hips to reach a pocket knife from his back pocket. “So, what's this about?” he asked, beginning to whittle away at the apple's skin, flaking little red strips across the table and floor.

  Are you kidding me right now? You fuckin' prick. Breathe, Morgan, breathe.

  “Something about you making it up to me for leavin' me high and dry last night? That was bullshit, by the way,” he continued. He was just as good of an actor as she was trying to be.

  Morgan watched a few more pieces fall to the table. She clenched her jaw before letting words fly out of her mouth that she'd likely regret. She inhaled deeply, and conjured the most seductive smile she could and walked toward him. This is just a test, c'mon, I can do this, she told herself.

  He stopped picking away at the apple and finally looked up when she was right in front of him. Morgan grabbed the naked fruit from his hand, then the knife and set them on the table in front of him before she grabbed his broad shoulders for support and made her next move.

  One leg at a time, she straddled his lap, and her hands found their place on his neck and the back of his head. She curled her fingers though his dark hair, cocking her head to the side, she softly spoke, “yes, I am going to make it up to you, Jack. I'm sorry I didn't show, I should have told you I wasn't going to be there. I can't imagine how you felt sitting there, all alone. I hope you didn't wait long.” She smiled sweetly at him, thoroughly impressed with her own lying skills.

  “Nah, I didn't wait too long, it's...” he began, but lost his thought when Morgan pushed her hips forward, purposely grinding against the bulge in his jeans. Jack made a little sound, clearing his throat and tried to continue. “Yeah, uh, its cool though. Don't wor...” This time, he finished his sentence with a deep sigh as Morgan leaned forward and gave him a gentle nibble on his earlobe, and sucked it into her mouth, giving a little swirl of her tongue before releasing it. She followed it up with a few kisses down his jawline until she nearly reached his lips and she sat up, again, repositioning herself on his lap.

  She felt him begin to harden between her legs and her confidence soared. There's nothing to it, she thought. Morgan inched herself back a bit, making room to reach his lap. Her eyes caught the growing mound in his jeans and she bit her lip, trying to control her urge to pop his dick out right then and go to town. Control yourself, you have the upper hand.

  Jack grabbed Morgan's hand that had been wrapped around his head and placed it right on the, now perfectly defined, shape outlined against his jeans. Morgan bit her own lip even harder and she wrapped her hand in a half circle around it and ran her fingers up his shaft, then back down. She had done perfectly fine avoiding eye contact up until that point, but he placed his finger under her chin and guided her lips to his.

  Their lips met, and she felt his hands wrap around her ass, and he pulled her closer until she felt his hardness between her legs again. A quiet moan escaped her lips and she pushed her hips forward again, grinding herself harder against his erection.

  Morgan stopped the kiss and placed her hands on his shoulders, this time to help herself off his lap and she knelt down in front of him, quickly getting to work at his belt, then the button on his jeans. He jumped in to help and lifted his hips to pull his pants and boxers down enough to release his cock from
its restraints. Morgan nearly gasped as it popped out in front of her. Whoa.

  He leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head, letting Morgan know what he expected next. She wanted to laugh at that moment, because a blowjob was not in his future. She leaned over his lap, taking his dick in her hand and gave him a couple tugs as she gave him another kiss to get his attention. When he looked at her, she shook her finger back and forth in front of her, informing him that he wasn't going to get head. Instead, she undid the straps to her dress and let it fall to the floor, then did the same with her bra and panties.

  She felt a little weird, standing in her birthday suit in the middle of her kitchen, so she made it less uncomfortable for herself. Grabbing his jeans near his feet, she pulled them the rest of the way off, then his shirt, until they both were completely naked. Jack stared at her for a moment, taking in her full breasts and long legs before he quickly stood from the old wooden chair.

  He walked up to her and grabbed her by her hair and kissed her hard as he walked forward, forcing her to step backward until she was up against the narrow wall between the stove and couch. He kissed her down her neck and chest and took one of her pink nipples into his mouth.

  Her head fell backward and her eyes fluttered under their lids as his tongue traced circles around the little bud. Jacks hands reached around to her ass, then slid half-way down her legs before he picked her up and pushed her back against the wall, her legs instinctively wrapping around him.

  Jack thrust his hips backward, allowing Morgan to lower a little, then pushed forward, impaling her with his cock. She sucked in a sharp breath of air. He's gonna kill me with this thing! She hadn't expected him to go right into pounding the shit out of her, but she knew it was something she'd probably have to get used to. He continued thrusting and all thoughts of her prospective job opportunity faded with each hit of his dick against her wet walls.

  His legs began to tremble, and she remembered this wasn't about herself anymore. Just get him off, right? She grabbed hold of his back and curled her legs harder around his ass, allowing herself to push her hips against his as he entered her. His breathing was staggered and he slowed down his pace, and she matched it, slowly sliding forward as he did, then backward.

  He grabbed her around her ass again and carried her a couple feet, and dropped her onto the fold out couch so he could enter her from behind. Jack paused for a moment, looking at the small room around him. “How do you actually live in this little shithole place?”

  No fucking way! He's going to stop right in the middle like that to insult me? Morgan took a deep breath, still bent over the side of the couch, trying to determine if she had what it would take to go through with it. Not just with Assface, but the whole thing.

  He put his hands around her waist from behind, and lifted her to bring her ass at the right height. “Seriously Mandy, next time, we're going to my place.”

  What the fuck did he just call me? Mandy? The ass doesn't even know my name and I've been throwing myself at him for a month!

  That moment, that one moment when reality crashed down around Morgan, was the moment that set her future in stone. For the last four weeks, Morgan had pined for a man that didn't even know her name. A man that would stand her up, and let her take the blame. A man that would be willing have sex with her at the drop of a hat, or panties, anytime she wanted to. The truth was, that was blinking like neon in her mind, Jack wasn't the problem, she was.

  Morgan had always been attracted to the 'Jack' type of men, and she had expected the same result each time. She was never going to get anything from them aside from heartache. That type of man was exactly what she would be dealing with in the future, and at that moment, she knew that she could deal with it. They're all the same, and for once, I'll get what I want out of them.

  Morgan crawled forward, and turned around to face him. “Jack, I have an idea.” She smiled sweetly at him, but he was already beginning to get angry at the fact that she had moved away from him. He ran his hands through his hair, and exhaled loudly as he waited for her to speak.

  Morgan scooted to the side of the couch, and stood. “If you can remember my name, then we'll continue. But, you only have thirty seconds to get it right, then you have to leave.” She cocked her head to the side, and folded her arms across her bare chest.

  Jack was pissed, beyond pissed. Why would the whore care if he knew her name or not, she had to finish what she started. His answer was written all over his face, and his stance showed that he wasn't planning on moving anytime soon.

  “I have an idea. Get on your knees and finish, and then I'll leave and pretend this never happened.”

  “Ah, ah, ah. My name first.” Morgan raised her left arm, and tapped her bare wrist with her right index finger. “Times ticking away, Jack.”

  “I'm not kidding, you can't leave me like this and just send me away like some schoolboy. You're going to finish.” He reached for her shoulder's, intending a gentle push to the floor in front of him. But she moved too quickly, and was outside of reach within seconds.

  “Sorry, buddy, but time's up. See ya!” Her long legs carried her quickly to the front door, and she opened it.

  Jack followed her to the apartment's opening, and started to push the door shut. “Mrs. Wilcox!” Morgan stretched her head outside the door, and to the left, knowing that her nosy neighbor was only a breath away.

  “Morgan? Is something wrong?” A woman's voice called back, a deep voice that held the type of busy body authority that Jack hated.

  Morgan leaned into the naked man and warned, “all I have to do is say the word, even if this door here is shut, and she'll have the entire police force here in seconds.”

  Jack looked back at his clothes, then at Morgan.

  “Morgan? Answer me child!” The faceless voice demanded an answer.

  Jack didn't need anymore encouragement, he bent and gathered his clothes, pulling his jeans on at record speed. As he passed her, he said, “you're nothing but a cock teasing whore, Morgan.”

  “Oh, glad my neighbor could help with my name, Jack. And you're right about part of that, because starting tomorrow, I'll be a cock pleasing whore, and I have you to thank.” She laughed as the words fell from her lips, knowing that the man would think her crazy.

  “Fuck you.” He barged past her, and out the door. She watched him stomp all the way down the stairs outside of her small apartment, smiling at the hope that a date never ended that way again.

  Before she shut the door, she put her head back outside and answered Mrs. Wilcox, “I'm fine, I just thought I saw a stray dog out here, but it's gone now. Good night!”

  “Good night, Morgan!”

  The giddy girl closed the door, and didn't even bother to get dressed before picking up her phone. She grabbed Julianne's card from the the counter,and dialed the number as she sat on the old couch. Voice Mail. “Julianne, this is Morgan. I'm in.” When she was done, she dropped the phone to the couch, and stood up. Morgan felt born again, alive, and she knew that she was on the precipice of a life beyond her wildest dreams.

  “Well, I guess some beauty rest is in order, I wouldn't want to disappoint my clients.” Morgan laughed at herself again, as she opened her small closet beside the kitchen, and grabbed the first tee and shorts that her hands came across. She didn't bother to pull the bed out, she opted for her fluffy blanket with a large tiger on the front that she kept tucked behind her couch, and doubled up her two small throw pillows under her head. She leaned back on the cushions, and turned on the television. That was the last night that Morgan Holland slept in her shithole apartment.

  Her mind drifted as she waited for sleep to take over. The next time I have sex, and every time after that, it'll be great! No more groping and pounding, I'll be treated like a lady. She laughed quietly at the irony. It takes becoming a high dollar call girl to be treated like a lady.

  *****

  Morgan swayed to the rhythmic beat of the older jazz tune in the bar. She thought it was
from a live band, but then realized that it must be the jukebox. No, its fading in out, she had to be mistaken. A radio? As the music faded and returned again, the bar began to dissipate before her, and she blinked hard to make sense of what had happened.

  Morgan's phone, that's what happened, it was the following morning and her jazz inspired ring tone was desperately calling to her from between the cushions under her body. In her still-half-asleep state, she dug underneath herself, and groped for the phone. She found it, and brought it quickly to her ear as she hit the bright green button.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Morgan, this is Julianne. Meet me in an hour at the Windsor Inn, room five seventeen, on forty second street. Oh, and bring your luggage, because you won't be going back home. Oh, and my contacts tell me that you went to the local clinic for a physical and your yearly birth control shot. Please bring the paperwork with you.”

  At the sound of the click, Morgan put her phone against her chin, and blankly stared at her beige wall in front of her. “I won't be coming back home.” She then looked to her right, and her eyes followed the small cracked counter in her kitchen, then to the two person table that she had found at a garage sale a year prior. “I won't be coming back.” A smile took shape slowly on her sleep reddened face, then grew larger as she pulled the tiger blanket from her body.

  “I won't be coming back!” She ran to the bathroom, and started her shower.

  At the Windsor Inn, Julianne was waiting for the two men that she had called to help her with Morgan's adjustments. A favor, one that they were more than happy to help the woman with. They would help guide Morgan in the ways of seduction, and prepare her for the future job skills that she required. Julianne hoped that Morgan wouldn't need much help, but the men that she had enlisted for 'class' would teach her everything she needed to know.

 

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