by Mia Carson
I opened my eyes and saw that Suzi had me in her mouth again. Crystal’s hand absently groped my balls as she bent to kiss and lick Suzi’s seductively hanging titties. Suzi was staring me straight in the eye as she sucked, moaning softly to herself. It took a superhuman effort, but I managed to lean forward and grip her shoulders. A brief look of confusion crossed her face, which was quickly replaced with a satisfied smile of success as I gently but firmly lifted her off me and sat her back on the floor. Suzi clearly assumed I couldn’t take much more and was about to bang her to within an inch of her life. I stood, my engorged cock twitching involuntarily and aimed straight at her, so she lay back on the floor, opened her legs, and invited me in.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.” I pulled up my pants and strode purposefully for the door without looking back.
Suzi was in no state to be reasoned with when they eventually came out of the bedroom. Both dressed now, Crystal cast a terrible eye over me before kissing Suzi goodbye and leaving the suite. I sat on the couch, sipping a drink. She had her coat on and wheeled a suitcase behind her.
“What are you? Some sort of fag?” she growled at me. Poor thing. She was hot, only about twenty, living in a grown-up world and writing checks she was not emotionally capable of cashing.
“I’m sorry, Suzi. Any man would probably chew off his own arm if it meant a shot at just one of you, let alone the two of you together.” I tried to build her shattered self-esteem back up.
“Fucking A, right!” she shouted. “Just wait until I spread it around the circuit that you’re a queer. I bet you won’t find yourself so popular among the real men then.”
I felt bad for causing so much anger in this lovely young girl. “I think your plans for revenge are about twenty years out of date,” I told her quietly.
She took two steps forward and hissed at me: “Well, maybe you lured me up here under false pretenses. Maybe you tried to force Crystal and I to do things we didn’t want to do. We can both speak up for each other.”
I knew she was just mad. She could spread that around, sure, but almost everyone knew those two were no shy wallflowers, so I doubted the story would gain much traction. “Like I said…” I tried to soothe her again. “I’m so sorry to have embarrassed you. It wasn’t you girls. I think I’m in love with someone else, that’s all.”
She headed to the door and opened it. She turned dramatically, a real look of hatred disfiguring her normally alluring face. “You’re going to regret this,” she spat and departed, leaving me sitting alone with my thoughts.
***
The Moto GP circus would be shipping off tomorrow. And Team JSR would be heading back to Monterey, California, where I kept my favorite home overlooking Pebble Beach and the Pacific Ocean, before we packed it all up again for the Argentinian round. Normally I’d be excited at the prospect, but as I sat in my lonely hotel suit drinking scotch, I couldn’t seem to muster the enthusiasm.
Again, I saw Summer’s face, smelled that sweet scent of hers, imagined her lips moving over different parts of me. I wondered what she was doing. Was she finding this as difficult as I was?
Summer
What a stupid fucking ho. Such a temptress, so sultry. I mean, who can’t get some mindless hulk to cream in his pants? I thought I was being so sexy, leaving him forever with one untouchable memory, one last, unforgettable addition to his spank bank. So, when I was actually old and withered, in his mind, I’d be forever young, hot and grinding against his cock until he came. Great in theory, but sucked in practice.
I got home after the race and the restroom escapade feeling terrible, lovesick, and sexually frustrated. I ran a hot bath to rinse off the smoke and gasoline that seemed to have saturated every pore of my skin. And also, maybe, wash James out of my system. It didn’t work immediately. Every garment I removed made me wish he was undressing me.
I slipped out of my blouse, watching myself in the full-length mirror, and I ran my fingers softly along my waist, envisioning his fingers moving over my body. I unzipped my skirt and let it slide down off my hips, wishing it was him pushing it off me. I unhooked my bra, holding the cups against my breasts and picturing his lust filled eyes on me as I unveiled my pointed nipples. I pushed my hands under the flimsy material of my panties, caressing the baby-smooth skin, and imagined his fingers tracing the soft folds of my pussy, sending the most delicate of sparks through my pleasure centers as they brushed against my swollen, aching clit.
Like I said, I was frustrated. I whipped off my underwear and relaxed into the hot bath. I could feel the steaming, soapy water lifting the sweat and grim from my skin, but it did nothing to relieve the tension in my body. With a strong hand, I got myself off in seconds. But it wasn’t the same. When the fireworks faded, it had done nothing to fill the hole inside me.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I couldn’t seem to retrieve my old, professional, detached self. I decided I was crazy. James was not in possession of the world’s only cock. There was enough man-meat out there to take my mind off him. I just needed to stop acting like a heartsick schoolgirl. Sure, it felt bad right now, but it’d feel ten times worse if we tried to stay together and were ready to tear each other’s heads off in six months’ time. In two weeks, I was sure to be like ‘James who?’ Guaranteed.
My cellphone rang, waking me from my deep thoughts. I checked the caller ID, and it was Derek. Well, how about that. We had a short conversation. He was sorry about the other night, blah, blah, blah. He deserved the punch in the face, and could he come over? I decided he might be able to help me out of my current dilemma. I told him to come on over, and twenty minutes later there was a knock at my door.
I’d finished my bath, brushed my hair but left it wet, touched up my makeup, and simply left my white towel robe on when it came time to answer the door. He was standing there, hunched over, as I opened it, a look of painful remorse painted on his face, which slipped into slightly eager surprise when he saw me fresh from the tub and nearly naked.
I invited him in and fixed us a drink. He seemed a little lost for words as he sat nervously on my couch.
“What did you want to talk about?” I prompted him, handing him a glass of scotch.
He sipped his drink nervously. I sat on the couch next to him. There was space between us for a whole other person, yet he was fidgeting. His eyes wouldn’t settle. They flitted from the silent TV, to the window, and finally to where my robe opened to reveal the naked, smooth thighs of my crossed legs.
“I know you hate the word,” he began, “but I feel like we have too much invested in this relationship to just let it go.”
“So what do you suggest?” I asked. I had missed him. I’d missed his thick brown curls I used to love leaning my face against as we watched TV. I’d missed his peculiar apprehension every time we were together, even making love for the thousandth time, the way he let me lead and direct him, and the enthusiasm with which he would try to please me. Of course, at the end, that drove me mad, and I longed to be taken. Like James did when he pushed me over that wall…Ugh! Enough!
“Let’s go back, back to when we only saw each other a couple of times a week. Zero commitment. That was what you wanted,” he suggested.
“Uh-huh.”
“And if we really can’t get enough of each other”—he was warming to his subject now—“we just booty call. Sound like fun?”
“Is that what this is?” I smiled. “A booty call?”
“Well, I…” he stammered as I stretched my foot out and rubbed my toes against the fly of his slacks. “I guess…”
I deftly hooked his zipper between my toes and pulled it down, then slipped my foot inside his pants. Yup, he was already hard. I removed my foot and leaned across to him, pulling him up by the hand. I turned around, one knee on the couch, one foot on the floor, and presented my ass to him. I took his hand again and touched it to my pussy.
“Feel how wet I am, baby,” I breathed as his fingers
slid into my slippery hole. “I’m so ready for you…Just put it in.”
He needed little more encouragement. I heard his pants drop to the floor as he pushed up my robe. I felt his smooth tip against the slick entrance to my pussy a second before he drove himself hard into me. I wasn’t quite as ready as I let on, and his thrust knocked the wind out of me. But as I recovered, he pushed himself back in, and I wondered why he was only fucking me with half of his cock.
“That’s it, baby.” I tried whispering some encouragement. “Give it to me good and hard.”
He started pumping, his hips slamming against my butt, but I didn’t feel the same satisfaction. I didn’t feel full or stretched the way James made me feel. I couldn’t feel him throbbing, couldn’t feel every thick vein and ridge of him. It was so disappointing. Derek wasn’t small—far from it—he just didn’t feel that hard. He jammed himself in and out of me, and I let out some soft moans to keep him excited, but I was still waiting, hoping he’d grow some more as he got closer.
As these thoughts ran through my mind, though, he swore, thrust harder, and I could feel him shooting his cum inside me. No way! The stupid, useless motherfucker! I couldn’t move. I heard him sit back, panting and doing up his belt, muttering about how good that felt, but I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I felt one roll down my cheek and drip off my chin as the first drop of his semen fell from my pussy onto the couch.
“Would you get me some napkins or a toilet roll, please?” I managed to say to him with an even voice. He jumped up and sprinted to find it, and I sat down. I started sobbing. What was I thinking? Did I hate myself? Why was I fucking Derek when I just wanted to be with James?
Derek returned and immediately knelt beside me. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice riddled with guilt. “Did I hurt you?”
My weeping suddenly became a snort of laughter. Bless him. “No, I’m sorry.” I smiled weakly. “It wasn’t you.” I tried to figure out how to tell him I just fucked him wishing he was someone else without hurting his feelings. I gave up. “I just think I’m not going to be fair to you. I’ve treated you like shit the past couple of weeks and you’ve been so good to me. I think I need a few days to see if I’m going to be able to stop being mean to you.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said. “I’ll be waiting.”
A few more pleasantries and reassurances from me and he left, ego intact and head held high. I couldn’t be mad at him. I’d tried to use him, and it had backfired on me. I felt like this meant I had to find James and at least see if we might work out. If he’d have me.
I’d catch him in the morning, I decided. I really didn’t know if I was in love with him, but I had this feeling inside me and couldn’t just let him go without seeing him one more time.
I went to bed looking forward to tomorrow and seeing him again, only I couldn’t sleep. My heart raced as I played out the scenario over and over in my head. Was this what being in love felt like? Couldn’t wait to see him? Check. Constantly fantasized about him touching me? Check. Totally not attracted to anyone else? Check, check, check. It was weird. I’d spent my whole adult life avoiding relationships so they couldn’t hurt me and ended up falling for someone anyway. And if I fell for someone I was trying to fuck anonymously in the pursuit of never committing to anyone? Well, that was a twist.
***
I got up the next day and got ready. I was supposed to meet with Donald and Dunlop again in the afternoon, so I put on my best navy blue business suit, silk blouse, and blue three-inch pumps, jumped in my Mustang, and headed to the Four Seasons as fast as I could. I called the hotel as I was driving to make sure James hadn’t checked out yet. He hadn’t, but it still took me far too long to get there.
My heart was beating about as fast as I’d been driving as I pulled up to the valet again. The attendants scurried around like ants as the whole Moto GP crowd had decided to check out at once, so I tossed my keys to the nearest guy in uniform and ran into the lobby. It looked like my poor car might be waiting a while to get parked.
I asked reception to call James’s room, but they got no answer. I told them to keep trying while I ran like an idiot between the departing guests to find him or find out if anyone had seen him. I spotted Marc Márquez, walking ahead of a bellhop pushing his luggage, and I smiled because little Sam was on his arm. Good for them. That little slut, on the first date? Still, I couldn’t judge. Unfortunately, neither of them had seen James.
I tapped on the shoulder of a gorgeous, tall blonde who turned around and smiled at me in a way so practiced and perfect that she just had to be a model. I asked her about James and thought I saw the faintest glimmer of distaste register on her face. Weird.
“I think Suzi saw him last.” She smiled again, pointing out a shorter but equally gorgeous brunette sitting by herself on the other side of the lobby. I headed over to this Suzi, wondering to myself why she had to be the one to have seen him last.
“Can I help you?” she asked frostily as I approached. She was messing with her iPhone.
“I’m looking for James Spence…The girl over there said you might have seen him?”
“He’s very busy,” she started, sounding official. Maybe she was his PA, but then why didn’t I meet her before? “Can I ask what it’s regarding?”
We’d been fucking all weekend, and despite my need to stay away from the certain pain of commitment, I was here to declare my love for him.
“It’s a personal matter,” I decided to say. True, and I didn’t sound like a crazy person.
“Yes?” she replied, then looked right at me. Her beautiful face broke into a wide smile. “Oh yes. He said you might be looking for him.” That was strange. “He said to play this video for you.”
She touched the play button on her phone and handed it to me. At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at. It looked like a porno. Why would James send me this? Two hot, naked girls were fooling around in front of some guy.
“Suzi, is it?” I turned back to her. She watched over my shoulder, licking wickedly smiling lips. “I don’t understand. Why did you give me this to look at?”
“Look at it closer,” she replied. “James said you’d understand.”
Still confused, I did as she said. I looked closer at the video and realized that Suzi was one of the girls. They were kneeling, sucking the guy’s cock. Wow, the other girl was the blonde I spoke to a moment ago, and they were really going to town on the guy. Then I saw it. The guy. It was James.
James
I heard the phone ringing while I was in the shower and ignored it. There was no one I particularly wanted to talk to right now that didn’t have my cell phone number. It was going to be so busy in the lobby, and I decided to leave it until five minutes before checkout time to go down.
That rolled around quick enough, so I sent for my bags to be collected and headed to the elevator. It sounded like there was actually a Muzak version of Iron Maiden’s Run to the Hills being played as I descended, but it was hard to tell. The bell dinged, the doors slid opened, and there she was. Summer. I shouted her name, and she looked up at me as I practically sprinted into the lobby.
Only something was wrong. She looked distraught. She stood next to Suzi, looking at something on a smart phone.
“I’m so pleased to see you,” I began. “What’s wrong?” My heart started to sink at what Suzi might have said to her. “What have you told her?” I demanded of Suzi. I could feel my jaw clench. A few guests and staff looked over to see who had raised their voice.
“I told her nothing, James,” Suzi said, very innocently.
Summer looked at me, tears in her sparkling green eyes. Without a word, she held up the phone, and I could see Suzi and Crystal, naked and going down on me. I didn’t even know we had been recorded. She let go of the phone, and I caught it as it dropped. She turned and walked defiantly out, almost in perfect time with the image of me leaving those two bitches last night. Furious, I looked at Suzi.
&n
bsp; “I was just recording for fun.” She shrugged. “It felt like it might be an epic night, and I thought we’d probably like to relive it in the future.”
“Do you know what you’ve done?” I hissed at her.
“I told you you’d regret it.” She smiled back.
Summer
I was not going to cry. I was going to walk out of here and drive home. I was not upset. I was not even surprised. How did you think it was going to turn out? I mean, what possible outcome did you expect, you stupid whore? To let yourself fall in love, and with a racer? Have you learned nothing from life, from your parents?
I gave my ticket to the valet. He tried to explain that they were backed up, and it’d be an hour before they could find my car. I gave him a look of pure fury, and he decided he’d bring my car right back. It was not fast enough, though, because James came out of the hotel before my Mustang appeared. Damn him. I was sure my eyeliner was running down my cheeks. He looked around and spotted me, then rushed over.
“Summer, let me explain…” he started, but I cut him off.
“Go on, then! Explain!” I was pretty much shouting at him. “The date on that film was from last night. Explain how you didn’t mean to put your penis in those girls’ mouths!” A couple of bystanders looked at me, a little shocked, but I didn’t give a fuck. James seemed to be lost for an answer. I lowered my voice. “I’m sorry, baby. I forgot it was just a fling. It’s a good thing I didn’t decide last night that it could be something more. That would make me really dumb, wouldn’t it?” My Mustang roared up, and I quickly switched places with the valet. “Go ahead, fuck whoever you want,” I shouted at him. “It’s no surprise to me!”