I regained my composure and steeled myself against the thoughts that were a villain against my professionalism. The hotel heir and I talked for another ten minutes and I could hear the hope rising into his voice until it was almost explosive. I assured him that I would arrange something with him and her soon. He thanked me at least three times and hung up.
The hours crawled by at an agonizingly slow rate. April had already excused herself for lunch over an hour ago and I had barely registered that she had left.
Leon’s words were running in my head. His sheer confidence when he described his sexual proclivities, his unabashed acceptance of that which aroused him, had captivated me. I was vaguely aware of the more extreme sexual practices, but to hear them described with an air of romance to them illuminated them in a new light. I fought against admitting to myself that my interest was more than a simple curiosity sparked by the unknown.
At this point, I was merely a voyeur to Leon Christensen’s experience. At the club, his words had been deliberately vile and obscene, a verbal slap to the face so I would leave. During our meeting, his words had been a recitation of practices which he entered into without shame or restraint.
I wondered vaguely what Mrs. Robinson looked like. A shot of adrenaline dumped into my blood when I realized that throughout Leon’s story, I had seen myself as Mrs. Robinson.
I left the office as April was walking in. I told her that I was off to grab some lunch, but it sounded as though my voice were coming from somewhere far away. My thoughts were wrapped around the image of Leon on top of me, a blindfold blotting out all light as he pushed in me from behind. April said something that I didn’t hear and I hurried into my car.
Chapter 5
I ate a late lunch at an upscale restaurant, treating myself to an expensive meal of oysters and a Caesar salad. The temptation to drink a glass of wine, maybe even two, was great, but I restrained myself in favor of visiting the gym after my meal. The feeling that had lingered with me since my meeting with Leon would be pummeled out at the gym. Maybe there’d be someone there who would make me forget all about him.
At the gym, I pushed myself to the absolute limit on the treadmill, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. I still felt restless, so I walked over to the weight rack and started to do some strength training, not my normal routine at all. I waited in line for the squat rack and did squats until my legs wobbled when I walked away.
I saw Dominic walk into the gym as I finished my workout. His eyes grew wide when he saw me and I saw him start to walk over to me. In comparison to Leon, he paled. His cutoff shirt showed biceps that were toned and chiseled through hard work on weights. Short hair adorned his head that was stylish and maintained flawlessly. White teeth sparkled between his lips when he smiled. This was simply a beautiful man, yet I felt almost nothing when I looked at him.
I walked by him and headed into the women’s locker room. As we passed, he began to speak and I gave him a cordial hello and a small wave, but nothing more. I didn’t turn around to see if he looked disappointed or relieved; I didn’t care.
My muscles ached. When I walked back into my place, my legs wobbled with every step, worn out from the punishment of running for an hour on the treadmill and brutally heavy squats. Lifting my keys was an exercise in itself due to my exhausted arms. I needed a shower badly but when I got inside, I plopped myself down on the couch and laid my head back, breathing heavily.
Every fiber of my body was dancing, pulsating energy through me as though I were plugged into the wall. Tension racked my wasted muscles. My thoughts raced through the day and I knew that the images in my head were not going to disappear easily.
Fighting my every impulse to remain where I was, I rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. I poured myself a large glass of wine; I had earned it. There was some takeout from the previous day, and I heated it up, knowing that I needed to refuel myself after such an intense workout. The numbers counted down on the microwave and the aroma of cooking food filled the kitchen. My mouth watered and I realized just how hungry I was.
Two minutes counted down slowly as I pulled my clothes off. I hadn’t bothered to shower off in the women’s locker room, feeling too eager to get home and cool off. I was left in my underwear and bra before I decided that I didn’t need the bra. It had been uncomfortable and all my windows were closed anyway, so I unhooked it and tossed it into the pile of clothes that lay in the doorway to my living room.
Steam rose from the food when I pulled it out of the microwave, but I didn’t wait for it to cool. The food instantly scorched my mouth and I cooled it down with a large gulp of wine. I stood in the kitchen, eating ravenously as I finished the first glass of wine. Another glass filled with wine in hand, I sat back down on the couch and turned on the television as I returned to savaging the final remnants of my dinner.
Thoughts kept popping in my head of sapphire eyes and wry smiles. When I looked down to my plate, it was empty. I had barely tasted the food, but my stomach was full and I was at least at ease in this respect. Yet even the second glass of wine was doing nothing to settle my nerves. Every inch of my being called out for something that my mind had already decided was forbidden.
Everything on television was boring, dull, far away. Twenty minutes passed as I flipped through all of the channels for the second time, no small feat considering there were about a thousand channels, most of which were completely unnecessary or complete trash. Towards the end of the second pass, a show caught my eye and I stopped, glass of wine half-lifted to my lips.
A shirtless man was on screen, beads of sweat falling around the curves of his chiseled muscles. Muscles bulged and moved as he threw punches and kicks in the air. His abs were without an ounce of fat. The man was shredded. I imagined the smell of his sweat as he continued to spar, practicing some moves for what I assumed was to be an upcoming battle of some sort. When he dropped to the ground to do pushups, I marveled at the contours of muscles that stretched over his entire body. With his head dropped down, the man now faceless, I knew that he looked how Leon would look shirtless.
The glass of wine still hung in the air, my arm shaking. I placed it down on the table and ran my hands through my hair, pushing it back. I arched my back as I leaned back on the couch, pushing my breasts forward. If someone had been there, they might have marveled at how good they looked.
Leon would have loved how they looked.
Two glasses of wine had lowered my restraint over the thoughts that had persisted since the meeting. Finally, they broke through like water pushing against a levee and flooded my mind. I closed my eyes and let the torrent wash over me, bringing me into the fantasy, professionalism be damned.
Leon was standing before me. He was shirtless. His muscles flexed as he crossed his arms and looked down at me. I eyed his tight pants and drank in the sight of his toned legs. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. A subtle look came over Leon’s face as he studied my breasts, and I arched my back further, pushing them towards him. He lifted his hand and with one finger made a gesture for me to come to him, to follow him into the bedroom.
Images flashed through my head that I wanted badly to be real. My hand had fallen between my legs rubbed against the thin panties that I still had on. I raised my hips and slipped them off. I was naked on the couch now, alone with my fantasy of Leon.
In my mind, I followed him into the bedroom. He faced me, looking me up and down with an approving stare. His sapphire eyes illuminated the entire room and I fought for shallow breaths as he studied my naked body, his for the taking.
His hand slid under my chin and his fingers rested against the back of my ear, caressing them gently as he pulled me towards him. Sitting on the couch, I began to rub myself harder as I imagined Leon’s tongue gently gliding against my lips before our tongues met and interlocked. He breathed heavily against my face as he pulled me in a little harder, giving me no way to escape. Though I wouldn’t have tried to even if I could.
&nbs
p; I stepped closer to him, pushing my breasts against his firm chest. His soft skin teased my nipples that screamed out to be touched. On my tip-toes, his arms wrapped around me and pulled me against him firmly. The ground fell away as he lifted me up. His cock pulsated with desire against my soft, waiting skin. One of his hands slowly descended down the small of my back, rubbing my ass it continued and then stopped just under both cheeks, cupping them as he held me up.
I moaned loudly in my living room, bringing myself closer to finishing. I slowed down, wanting to live in my fantasy for just a little longer. I wasn’t ready to come and have the real world swirl back around me, robbing me of Leon’s embrace. This fantasy could only be that, a fantasy, and I was going to make it last.
Leon tossed me on the bed and I looked up at him, breathing heavily. My eyes burned into him and he drank up the sight of me. His hands started at my ankles and moved upwards, covering every inch of my skin, marking the feel of my softness into his memory. His cock was outlined in his pants, hard with want at the sight and feel of me before him. But Leon was patient, he was more focused on me and was intent on savoring every single moment of touching me.
His hands slid up my outer thigh and I opened my legs for him, but he kept moving up. Fingers danced around my belly button before following the outline of my ribcage, protruding as I arched my back, and then circling around the bottom crest of my breasts. I was moving like a wave in the ocean, gyrating on the bed as the invisible circle he drew around my nipples closed tighter and tighter until he was maddeningly close to touching them.
Wetness enveloped my nipples and the nerves exploded with stimulation. I looked down abruptly and Leon was sucking on my left nipple, his other hand working my right breast and nipple. I ran my hands through his perfectly sloppy hair and pulled it slightly, moaning loudly. An orgasm was growing in me now, defying me to continue on with the fantasy.
My hand became Leon’s hand as it slid in between my legs and moved up and down on my clit, varying between hard and soft pressure. I cried out loudly in my apartment, both in my mind and in reality. I slowed down, but not so much that the pressure of my impending climax lessened. Leon moved his hand on the outside of my lips before parting it gently with his fingers and sliding his middle finger into my wet pussy. My stomach clenched hard as he penetrated me and I bit down on my lip.
I reached out and ran my hands along his abs. I needed to feel Leon’s cock. I wanted to hold it in my hand and feel every bit of his lust vibrating from its hard warmth. My hand wrapped pushed past his belt loop, breaking the button as it went, before wrapping around the piece of flesh that had turned to stone between his legs.
I moved my hand up and down on him, feeling the soft skin on my fingers. His cock was big and thick, throbbing with the urge to be inside of me. My inner thighs were wet with want and the overwhelming need to welcome his cock inside.
My hand moved furiously against my pussy as my other hand grabbed my nipples. My orgasm was rising in me. It wouldn’t be long now before the crescendo reached an epic climax that would shatter my world with a powerful orgasm. I bit my lip harder and knew that it was going to be an earthquake through my nervous system that would make stars explode behind my closed eyelids.
Leon stood up and took off his pants, now naked before me. He turned and reached down to the ground and when he rose, there were a pair of fuzzy handcuffs in his hands. His cock pointed straight out towards me, rigid and firm. I wanted him badly to grab me and fuck me with all of his strength, but he teased me with it just hanging in the air, so close but so far away.
I was face down on the bed, turned over with my arms raised. The handcuffs latched around my wrists and Leon clamped them down tightly. He pulled on them and I was raised slightly. I lifted my ass and gave it a small shake, hoping to antagonize Leon into being so aroused that he had to spread me and push inside.
His hand grabbed one of my cheeks and squeezed firmly, but not too rough. When I went to open my eyes, darkness enveloped my sight as a blindfold slipped over them. I was now completely in his control, blind and restrained. He still gripped my ass and he lifted my ass up until my face was pushing against the pillow. I bit down hard on the soft fabric as I felt the open air against my wet pussy.
“Oh my god!” I moaned loudly. Leon was sliding into me, his thick cock spreading me apart as every inch entered me. His hips pushed against my supple ass and I felt my entire body racked with the sensation of him inside me, causing every nerve to explode with pleasure. I cried out again as he began to pull his hips back. Then he came back again, a rhythm forming that made my eyes clasp so tightly that I began to feel light headed.
I called out his name again and again, filling the empty air of my living room with its wonderful sound. My feet pushed against the table and rocked the empty wine glass and dinner plate onto the ground as I envisioned Leon Christensen fucking me from behind, a blindfold fastened tightly around my eyes and my hands cuffed behind my back.
It was all too much. I screamed out with want, the fantasy overpowering my controlled masturbation. The orgasm rolled over me and there was no stopping it. My legs shot out as the first climatic wave broke and I was racked with coming. I bit down on my lip even harder, so hard that I was vaguely aware that I might have broken the skin, and my eyes clasped shut even harder. I raised my head towards the ceiling and my mouth fell open as I moaned and cried out loudly.
In my mind, as I came, Leon turned me over so I was now on my back. My legs were spread wide and he pushed his hips against me fiercely as my orgasm peaked. Every inch of his cock was inside of me, vibrating through my entire body. He moaned loudly and I felt his cock jump inside me, shooting cum as I was coming. He began moving quickly in and out of me, crying out as he did.
I badly wanted the blindfold to be taken off so I could see the orgasm move through his stomach, causing his abs and chest muscles to expand and contract, but all I could do was moan as my orgasm moved through me, not caring for my desires or wants. Leon finished inside me as the echoes of my orgasm flowed through me, and when he pulled out, I opened my eyes.
I was covered in sweat again. My breathing was heavy and labored and I felt like I could have passed out. The orgasm had been so intense that it felt as though my muscles had endured another painful workout. Every muscle was now completely spent; there were no reserves.
It took a great effort to get off the couch and fix the damage that I had caused while in the throes of my fantasy. I had kicked over the table entirely when I came and the candles, thankfully unlit, were tossed all along my carpet. The empty wine glass and cleaned plate were upside down on the ground, the wine glass broken. I gathered the pieces of glass carefully, still feeling the faint remnants of my orgasm between my legs. Everything pulsed and throbbed, but I felt so satisfied that I could only let out little laughs at I cleaned up the broken wine glass.
I managed to drag myself into the shower. I ran the water scorching hot and got in, cleaning the sweat and stress of the day off of my skin. My mind had quieted since my orgasm and I had been almost without any trains of thought. Now, in the shower and calmed down, thoughts began to creep back into my mind.
Shame was the first emotion that I felt. Not over masturbating or having such a vivid fantasy, I felt no shame for being a sexual woman, but that I had blatantly broken one of my own professional rules. Fantasies were fine, sometimes I even sprinkled some pornography in with them, but I had entered dangerous waters by fantasizing about a current client.
I was a professional. I had always acted professionally and I always obeyed the rules that had led me to being so successful. Yet I had never met anybody who gotten into my head the way that Leon had. It was like he had implanted something in my mind that was insidious and demanded attention. Even as I turned off the water and began toweling myself off, I couldn’t quite get the image of him smiling out of my head.
That smile, that carnivorous smile of a man who feeds his hunger without abashment or restrain. It st
ayed with you long after it disappeared from your vision.
I rested my head against my pillow and closed my eyes, determined to sleep. The sheets felt wonderful against my naked skin and wrapped in them, I felt the exhaustion of the day catch up to me. Soon enough, I was overtaken by a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 6
At the office, I sat at my desk and pored over files before me. I had allocated the entire day to finding Leon Christensen a match. Once I found him a match, he would no longer be my client. Once Leon Christensen was no longer a client, I didn’t have to worry myself with him anymore and he could fade into the file cabinet with the rest of my past clients.
With Leon Christensen happy and in love, I could smirk at him and know that I was as good as I claimed to be. He would be my greatest triumph. I threw every bit of my professional ability in trying to find him a match that even he, this man who did not believe in love, could not contest. I was determined to be professional, last night’s fantasy notwithstanding.
April had arranged a pile of every female client that we had between the ages of twenty-four and forty. I opened up the first case and began reading.
Her name was Lauren Sinclair, thirty-three years old, never married, a relatively new client. I remembered her interview well. She was a tall, gorgeous brunette who was a highly successful lawyer. She had come across my services from a regular client of hers who was now happily married. When she came in to our meeting, she had been a little reserved, but I could tell that she was eager to find a partner.
“It’s very difficult being a single, successful woman. I don’t have the time to go carousing bars for Mr. Right and even if I did have time, I wouldn’t go about it that way. Many men are threatened by a woman like me, so I would need a man who could look at me as an equal and treat me as such,” Lauren Sinclair had said.
I imagined how she would react when Leon brought out a whip and a dog collar. I laughed loudly in the open room and tossed the folder into a pile that I designated as prospective matches. Even an independent woman demanding respect might like a little submission. More than likely, however, Lauren Sinclair didn’t seem the type.
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