Sex Idol

by Shelley Munro

  Yet now she was going against everything she believed made a good tutor because of Antonio. Weak. So weak when it came to this man.

  Sasha bit her bottom lip and prayed she’d get through the Sex Idol contest with her integrity intact.

  A moan from Bridget reminded Sasha she was the instructor, and she’d set a time limit. Drawing on her inner strength, she straddled Antonio’s lower body. Heat from his body seared her inner thighs. Her stomach flip-flopped, and her hand shook as she traced it across his belly. An arrow of desire struck right at her core. Sasha struggled to bite back a groan and an urgent desire to run, but pride won. She had a job to do. And most of all, she didn’t want Antonio to guess she still had feelings for him. That she’d never stopped loving him.

  Sasha clenched her jaw, leaning closer to trail languid kisses across his hipbone, taking her time and tasting his smooth, tanned skin. Slightly salty yet familiar—the scent of spring and lemons and an underlying musky tang filled her nostrils.

  Smell. Touch. Taste. Sensory overload, and she’d only started her exploration.

  She licked, leaving a damp trail running from his hipbone to his upper thigh. Antonio bucked under her ministrations, making her smile against his flesh.

  Torture. She’d give him hell, pushing him to the limit. Punishment. In the nicest conceivable way.

  A feminine mew reminded her there were three of them present. She should touch Bridget too, but despite the teacher-like thought, Sasha didn’t. She concentrated on Antonio and stroked her tongue toward his groin. His back arched, lifting his cock toward her mouth as if he sought her touch. The man was hairless now. An approving smile curled across her lips when she saw he’d taken her advice and gone to a body salon to have all hair removed. The smile widened. Must have hurt.

  The man deserved a reward. His erection twitched against her cheek while his musky scent rose to taunt. Sasha had to force herself to concentrate. Professional. She could do this. She cupped his tight balls, massaging until he groaned. His cock waved in front of her face. Thick and long. Smooth and strong. Soft yet hard. A vein throbbed when she ran her fingertip from base to the tip. A drop of fluid appeared in the tiny slit at the end. The plum-colored head of his cock would taste delicious and fill her mouth. Eagerness burned, bursting through her with a heady rush.

  Perhaps she’d be disappointed. Perhaps her memory was faulty. A shimmy burst into life at the pit of her tummy.

  Hold the emotional distance, dammit.

  “Yes. Ooh yes. Just like that,” Bridget said in a husky timbre.

  Sasha grasped his cock in her left hand and ran her fingers along his silky length, exploring the ridges and veins again. Her thumb dispersed the pre-cum at the tip, promoting him to twitch. She bit back a delighted laugh and couldn’t help but savor the power rush.

  He desired her touch.

  She leaned closer and blew a stream of warm air across the slit. Then, because she couldn’t bear the acute anticipation, Sasha’s tongue darted out to stroke across the head of his penis. Her breath caught. His earthy scent and salty taste stirred carnal fantasies of two lovers.

  Privacy.

  Togetherness.

  Happy ever after.

  Sudden tears stung the back of her eyes. That wouldn’t happen—not with Antonio. He’d once confided he wanted to make the Hall of Fame and become the most famous competitor ever, so he could make his parents proud. He wanted to go down in the history books. Although he’d done little on the circuit this season, he had the charisma and potential to make his ambitions reality. He certainly made her insides quiver. If he worked hard, he would win the Sex Idol title.

  “More! Harder! Yesss!” Bridget’s running commentary was constant and irritating.

  Sasha tried to block it out. Combined suction from her mouth and an exhalation of moist air brought more seminal fluid. A swipe of her tongue whisked it away. Antonio’s hand tangled in her hair while excitement continued to mass inside Sasha.

  Unable to wait a second longer, she took his cock inside her mouth, enclosing his shaft before swirling her tongue across the crown. His taste and the silky feel of him as she palmed his length and cupped his balls revved up her heart rate. It was like coming home.

  A dark growl echoed through her classroom.

  Antonio.

  The sound held pure demand, and dampness bloomed between her legs in response. She sighed, wishing she could make this moment last forever. Prolong the expectation. Let the anticipation simmer until desperation ruled her body. His hips jerked, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth.

  “Ah, I’m gonna come,” Bridget shrieked. “Are you two almost done down there? I can’t wait much longer.”

  Back to reality.

  Sasha silently encouraged Antonio to thrust into her mouth. Once. Twice. Then she eased away. With a last swipe of her tongue, she positioned her body and impaled herself on his erection. The exquisite sensation of his cock filling her pleased Sasha even more than tasting him. Her vaginal muscles contracted as her clit brushed his penis on the slow, downward slide. A gulp stalled halfway up her throat.

  This—Antonio—felt better than a vibrator.

  Much, much superior.

  She rose and let his cock massage the sensitive inner walls of her vagina as she sank down again. Moving as slowly as she could, she squeezed her eyes shut and fought the ripples of exquisite pleasure that swirled and threatened to suck her under.

  Not too fast. Please, make it something to remember.

  “Hurry,” Bridget cried in a strained note.

  Sasha’s eyes popped open, and she narrowed her gaze on the demanding redhead. Not that the woman noticed. Bridget had her eyes shut and her face screwed up in an expression hovering between pain and ecstasy.

  Antonio’s partner was a demanding shrew.

  Sasha had heard whispers about her behavior but hadn’t believed the gossip. She rose and slid down his cock again, setting up an easy rhythm despite Bridget’s grunts and complaints. She glared at the redhead again. Couples worked as a team and even with a third party thrown into the mix, they should produce a seamless performance. This practice session wouldn’t rate with an audience. She wondered what Antonio saw in Bridget, then decided it was none of her business. All she needed to do was get through the training and preparation, and the Sex Idol contest.

  Then a wham, bam, thank you, sir, and she’d have her baby. She’d have a family and someone to love.

  “Hurry.”

  “Hold back,” Sasha ordered. “Simultaneous orgasms earn more votes.” Selfishly, she wanted to savor the experience. She swayed above Antonio, taking her sweet time sinking onto his cock. She cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples hard enough to experience a corresponding jolt deep in her channel. God, the way he stretched and filled her. Inch by inch, she let his cock cram the empty spaces inside. Finally, when fully seated again, she rotated her hips in a leisurely circle that started up a fierce throb deep inside her. His long and thick cock stuffed her almost to the point of pain. A good pain.

  Through lowered lashes, she saw he was doing his best to keep Bridget from exploding. But she couldn’t string this out for much longer, despite her own selfish desires.

  Sasha set a faster pace, riding his cock and canting her hips so each downward stroke massaged her sensitive nub. Raw need climbed and clawed through her body, spreading out in tiny ripples from her clit. Sasha fondled her nipples until they were hard and distended and echoed the tingling sensation in her pussy.

  “That’s it,” Bridget said in a sulky tone. “I’m coming. I’m not waiting any longer.”

  “Sasha?” Antonio asked.

  He was close to erupting. She sensed it in the way he thrust upward in the steady way she’d once told him she liked.

  “Everyone ready?” Sasha asked with a calm she didn’t feel. Her pussy clenched around Antonio’s cock, quivering in such a way she longed to release a moan. Sasha slid her hands back down her body. She skated a finger across h
er wet, slippery folds and brushed her swollen clit. Jolts of intense excitement soared through her as she teetered on the brink of orgasm.

  “Yes!” Bridget hollered, lifting so Antonio’s face was visible.

  Antonio glanced up at Sasha as she rode him. Their gazes met and held. His dark eyes glinted and a cocky smile crept across his mouth the second she felt his seed spurt into her pussy. His orgasm yanked Sasha into the maelstrom of passion, and she shattered, surrendering to the pleasure, surrendering to the moment, before slumping forward.

  “Are you finished?”

  The strident feminine pitch wrested Sasha back to a conscious state. She watched Antonio blink and realized she was plastered against his chest. Antonio’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, anchoring her in place. A second realization—she didn’t want to move.

  “I get size four on the Richter scale and she gets an eleven,” Bridget snapped. “I want what she had.”

  Sasha sighed, moving with real regret. Cripes, Bridget spoke in a piercing whine—a bit like a flying gnat, and from the mulish set of her mouth, the woman had a lot more to articulate. Sasha levered away from Antonio.

  Regrets bounced through her mind, fragments of the past tangling up with the present. She swallowed to dislodge the lump of emotion in her throat. If she wasn’t careful, she’d cry.

  Teacher persona, her mind screamed at her. Pull out the instructor.

  She clambered off the couch and made a show of checking the large wall clock. “Time’s up. We’ve actually gone over,” she added.

  Bridget pouted. “But I—”

  “Although we all climaxed,” Sasha interrupted, “the routine we performed wouldn’t score well. Since Bridget had the anal plug inserted, she should have had vaginal fullness, too.” Sasha paced along the aisle of couches, unable to look at Antonio because she didn’t want to interpret his expression. She didn’t want to know how he’d felt about fucking her again after all this time. And Bridget…well, she didn’t glance at Bridget because the urge to strangle the redhead rode Sasha hard. Jealousy, probably. Definitely, she amended in a burst of honesty. “We need to work on the routine.”

  “What combination would you suggest?” Antonio propped himself up on his elbows to study her.

  Sasha sought refuge in her tutor persona. “In this case, it would have been better for you to have intercourse with Bridget. Then Bridget would have performed cunnilingus on me and stimulated my breasts.” Sasha ignored Bridget’s indignant sniff and continued. “And I would have reciprocated. We need to develop a plan we can use in each different circumstance, depending upon which categories you draw. For example, the selection of toys won’t vary, only the materials they’re made of. If we plan now which toys you’ll choose and keep the routine the same it will be easier on the night. If you make the later rounds, you’ll need new routines, but we can worry about that later. Qualifying is the first step.”

  “It gets boring doing the same routine,” Bridget protested.

  Sasha grimaced at the woman’s stupidity. “You’re professionals. It’s your job to make sex look like fun.”

  Chapter Four

  “It’s your job to make sex fun.” Bridget mocked Sasha half an hour later after they’d left Arnie City for San Francisco.

  She cast a glare at Antonio as he turned his hover up a steep one-way hill. Advertisements for sexual aids and products that guaranteed—according to the copy—to put lead in everyone’s pencil lined the road.

  “Fun. Huh!”

  The sun crept low in the sky, setting a fiery glow alight on the Golden Gate Bridge. The city historical monuments’ department had done an excellent job when they’d spray-painted the bridge, returning the steel back to its original reddish color. Removing the sex contest advertising and illuminated signs from the gracious spans had cut down on hover collisions, too.

  Antonio pretended to concentrate on the hover vehicles around them instead of answering Bridget’s complaints. He had to handle her carefully or his plan would crash in a burning heap.

  “Sex isn’t fun. It’s a job.” Bridget yanked her communicator from her synleather bag and speared the power button with her forefinger. “When did you want to schedule the next training session?”

  “I can get by without a partner for the next one. Sasha will help me choreograph a new routine—one that’s easy to adapt for variables.” If she’d hated the session so much, why the heck did she want to attend the next?

  He drove down the other side of the hill, passing several of the moving walkways that helped people navigate the hills of the city on foot. A row of artificial palms provided shelter from the biting winds and relentless sun, beautifying the squalor of Union Square.

  Bridget scowled. “So that’s what the two of you were whispering about. You know, I can see why you broke up. She thinks she knows everything.”

  Instinctive denial rose in Antonio, but he knew better than to argue when Bridget was in this mood. He pulled up outside the converted warehouse Bridget shared with four others. “Thanks for coming today.”

  “Suppose I learned a few things,” she replied in a grudging tone. She opened the door and picked up her bag.

  Antonio raised a hand in farewell. “Bridge, the zipper’s open on your bag. You’re going to lose something if you don’t keep it closed.”

  She glanced down and rolled her eyes. She shoved a blue ribbon back inside and closed the zipper with a sharp tug. “About time I bought a new one. See ya ’round.”

  * * * * *

  Early the next day, Antonio buzzed the intercom inside Sasha’s building since the internal entrance was locked. The utility girl arrived while he was waiting, carrying her handheld gadget, ready to transfer the power and water units to Sasha’s building device. She wore her black hair shaved short on one side. The other side was long, the straight ends decorated with bright pink hair dye.

  “Where’s the lady from the school? I want to download the utilities and check the readings.”

  Antonio spied Sasha’s handheld in her slot ready for loading. He strolled inside, plucked it out and handed it to the young girl. “I’ll take it up with me,” he offered.

  Clear suspicion shone in the girl’s plump face. “You’re not gonna steal it, are ya, mister? You know it won’t work with another building.”

  “I wouldn’t steal Sasha’s unit.” Antonio placed his right palm across his heart. “Cross my heart.”

  The girl connected Sasha’s handheld to hers and pushed a button. The handhelds whirred as a blue light lit up and the info transferred. “All right, but if Sash tells me off next time, I’m gonna put a hex on you.”

  Antonio accepted the device back, withholding his smile. He managed a somber nod but knew his expression probably gave him away. “Fair enough. I’ll let Sasha know what a great job you’re doing.”

  “Don’t forget, mister. I do a mean hex.”

  The girl left to attend to more customers and Antonio pulled out his communicator to check the news headlines while he waited for her. The screen lit, and his face stared back at him. An old photo of him and Bridget, and it bore a huge computer-generated rip down the middle. The headline read Partnership Made In Heaven Over?

  “Fuck.” He scanned the story underneath the headline. Not the truth but enough to cause problems for him with both Bridget and Sasha. This would be a delicate balancing act.

  The door flew open before he had time to formulate a plan. He hit the off button and tucked his communicator away in his pocket. Hell, the reporters would be after him for a comment. If they could find him. They’d manufacture something if they didn’t receive a direct quote from him.

  “Antonio.” Sasha’s greeting was guarded with not a smile or dimple in evidence. She wore a pair of black workout trousers that clung to her hips and legs and a baggy green jacket buttoned from bottom to top so it covered the rest of her body. In the past, he would have given her a quick, friendly hug, but her current demeanor kept him away.

  Not
an auspicious start.

  A frown creased Sasha’s brow and Antonio wondered what she was thinking. He used to know, but she’d changed. She wasn’t the carefree woman he’d once partnered.

  “Where’s Bridget?”

  And just like that, damned if things didn’t get worse. Every excuse he’d thought up on the way over faded into oblivion. Originally, he’d intended to come to this training session on his own but after thinking about Sasha and his plans, he’d decided Bridget acted as a chaperone, a constant reminder not to rush things.

  When he’d rung Bridget, she’d been in a bad mood. Sasha’s frank critique had hit her ego square in the kisser, irking Bridget and blooming out of proportion overnight. Bridget had informed him she didn’t have to take crap from a has-been and refused to set foot in the same room as Sasha again.

  “She—”

  A fist pounded on the other side of the door before he got the lie out. Sasha reached past him to open it and Bridget bounded inside.

  “Sorry I’m late.” She was harried and puffing. “I slept in.”

  “It’s all right,” Sasha said. “We hadn’t started yet. Come up to the classroom. We can have coffee while I go over some suggestions for a new routine.”

  “Sounds great. I could murder for a cup of coffee.” She followed Sasha up the stairs without a word to Antonio.

  Antonio waited until their footsteps receded and turned on Sasha’s handheld. As he suspected it had a newslink function. After staring at the headline for an instant, he read the entire story. The reporter had supposedly spoken to Bridget. He’d quoted her, saying that she thought he was past it and she was looking for another partner, so what the hell was she doing here pretending nothing was out of the ordinary?

  He carried the handheld up to Sasha’s classroom and tucked it into the magazine rack that sat just inside the door. Out of sight, even though her locator would help her find it later. Hopefully, she wouldn’t want to use her handheld before they’d finished for the day, before he’d talked to Bridget and discovered what the devil was going on with her.

  The scent of coffee drifted on the air along with a faint whiff of furniture polish and bleach. Sasha marched to an alcove opposite the memorabilia wall and pulled three mismatched china mugs from a cupboard above a full coffeepot. She poured coffee in all three mugs then added milk to two. After handing one to Antonio, she said, “How do you take your coffee, Bridget?”