by Avery Aster
He sat in the red swivel chair and mentally rehearsed how he would introduce himself. Did Kiki even know Dejon was a twin? Probably not. When he’d arrived earlier at the office, the receptionist gave him a hug and greeted him as Dejon. All too familiar with that usual mix-up, he didn’t see the sense in correcting her.
The door opened partially.
“Dejon.” A pretty face made its way out from the crack. Eyes blue and sparkling. Lips full and glossy. Skin light and glowing. “Close your eyes. I want to show you something.”
“But I’m not—”
“Close ‘em!”
Unsure what this woman was up to, Dash squinted his eyes, leaving them slightly open. Hell, for all he knew she could bust through the door with the FBI and arrest his ass for stealing all those diamonds.
The woman came into the room, closed the door, and then locked it. He knew this because the knob made a clicking sound.
What the…?
She leaned forward, nearly over him, her petite frame seeming out of sorts with the large voluptuous breasts jiggling in his face. Just as he was about to shout from the top of his lungs for her to stop, she kissed him. “I missed you so much.”
Fuuuck. Cock hard, toes curling, he kissed her back. First it was gently, respectfully, but then a wave of euphoric dizziness came over him and he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her down onto him, pressing his swelling cock against her ass. Oh God. She felt so good to him, this togetherness.
“You may open your eyes now,” she sassed.
“Wow.” Pretending he hadn’t peeked, he set his glare wide as she rose back to her feet and spun around.
“You like?” she asked nervously, clearly seeking approval. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen in a woman before. Aren’t all New Yorkers supposed to be overly confident, somewhat cocky creatures? Not this one. From where he was standing he saw nothing but pure sweet joy wrapped in sexy leather.
“Is that something you always wear around the office?” He smirked, forgetting he wasn’t Dejon as he got into the moment.
“Heavens, no. It’s for a fashion client. They’re going to sell these on TV tomorrow. Do you think they’ll be popular?” As she talked, not waiting for him to reply, she went over to the wall and dimmed the lights.
Adjusting himself, he tried to get his head on straight.
She stepped closer, closing the distance between them to mere inches.
“Kiki. I’m not who you think I am….”
“No?” She laughed and put her hands on her hips. Her heart-shaped face tilted sideways as if trying to guess what he was up to. Only this wasn’t a game.
“I’m serious. I’m Dash Turay. Dejon’s twin.”
“Okay. And I’m a Russian spy sent by Vladimir Putin to keep an eye on the U.S. government.” She didn’t believe him. Suddenly she kneeled, right between his legs.
“What are you doing?”
“Something I should’ve done ages ago.” Her hands glided up and down the inner part of his legs, causing his semi-erect cock, which had been discreetly off to the right side of his pelvis, to harden fully and stand erect like the Statue of Liberty, waving to ships sailing through Upper New York Bay. The only thing preventing it from smacking Kiki in the face was his pants.
“I’m serious.” He sat back in his chair as she unzipped his pants. “My name is Dash.”
“Okay, Dash. Whatever you want me to call you, I will. Why don’t you call me Lacey? You know, like the Mormon TV star, Lacey Schwimmer from Dancing with the Stars. She’s a class act.”
Something insane, whether it be curiosity, paralysis, or just plain stupidity, came over him, to where he couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop her. He didn’t want to. But he had to try. Didn’t he?
“Don’t,” he muttered.
Refusing to listen, she grabbed onto his cock, opened her mouth, and leaned in to him. That minute, the very second her warm wet tongue touched the tip of his dick, all decencies, all right from wrong, all of it, was gone. Dash Turay was no longer the older twin brother of Dejon. He wasn’t Kiki’s future brother-in-law, either. Nor was he the world’s most infamous diamond thief.
Oh no!
Dash Turay was a fuck-machine! A male dominant. A taker of the V-card. All he could see was pinkink flesh, pink tongue, pink pussy.
Stroking the back of her hair and rubbing her scalp, he helped glide Kiki’s tight little mouth, which felt a lot like a virgin’s pussy, over his throbbing dick. “Fuck. Yes. That’s it, Lacey girl. Suck that dick. Blimey hell. You’re good.”
Deeper she took him. Almost all of him. Her hands were like magic, left one stroking up, right one stroking down before they’d switch places, causing his dick to spasm.
“That’s it. Touch my balls with your tongue.” Legs wide, he inhaled a shallow breath, trying everything in his power not to come in her mouth. Not yet. He wanted to fuck her first. Yes, his cock had to find out what it felt like to be inside her.
Just as she pulled her head up to look at him, eyes glittering with tears, he stood. Picking her up like she was a little feather in his arms, he made his way over the conference table with one swift stride. “My turn, Lacey girl.”
She sat up in surprise as he spread her legs, reached under her skirt, and snatched her panties off. As he held the panties up to his nostrils to get the sweet whiff of her flesh, slowly the tip of his cock found her warm, wet, dripping slit.
“Are you sure we should do this?” Eyes hungry for him to fuck her, her body tensed as she glared up at him.
“Do you feel your cunt sucking me into you? Your body wants this.” He leaned back just a bit, letting his cock find its home inside her warm tight flesh. First just half of his shaft. Then slowly, as she moaned, sinking her nails into his arms, the rest of his cock tightly filled her.
“Amazing. Feels like there’s a fire between my legs.” Her breathing picked up. He wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.
“Relax. I got you. You’re in good hands.” He slid in balls deep and watched her eyes widen, then slowly pulled back and out and then pushed in again. A rhythm started. “Fuuuck, woman. You are tight as a virgin.”
She giggled nervously and then closed her eyes.
“Don’t take your eyes off me,” he bossed.
That turned her on. He could tell because her pussy squirted all over his naked dick. Just a little.
This intense lovemaking went on for several rounds. From on her side to her stomach, Dash fucked her like his life depended on it.
“I’m going to come,” he shouted, unable to hold it anymore. He started to pull out but Kiki grabbed his ass hard, driving him deeper into her.
“Come inside me.”
His body twitched as he drained himself inside her.
“I love you Dejon,” she murmured in his ear while he lay on top of her.
Then the world, suddenly real and raw, crashed down on him.
Shit! What the fuck did I just do?
Slowly Kiki climbed off the table and started to get dressed. Dash made his way to the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked, sounding somewhat in shock. Probably because he was leaving so quickly.
“I have to go. I just remembered something for work. I’ll call you later.”
“I love you,” she said loudly as he opened the door.
Turning back to get one last look at her, he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. Without any hesitation, he replied, “I love you, too, Kiki.”
And he meant it.
Left Nearly At The Altar
Greenwich Village
Dejon
Two Days Ago
I have to break up with her.
The doorman buzzed him in, and he quickly found himself at the entryway to Kiki’s apartment. Heart breaking, mood unbearable, he couldn’t go through with the heist of the Style Gala’s diamond while engaged to Kiki. She’d worked so hard on the event; it’d become the focal point of her entire career.
<
br /> The way Dejon saw it, he had three options.
One: Avoid the heist with his brother and marry Kiki. The pros were everything. The con was that he wouldn’t be fulfilling a promise he’d made to his late father, and his brother—and probably his mother—would never speak to him again.
Two: Go through with the diamond heist and still marry Kiki. The pros were that he’d have his cake and get to eat it, too. The con was that he’d be a lying piece of shit and unable to live with himself. It was bad enough that they were doing these robberies; all he could think of were the children in that town who benefited from their actions.
Three: Break up with Kiki and press on with the robbery. The pros were that, maybe one day eventually, he’d tell her what (and more importantly why) he did what he did and then they’d stand a chance of getting back together. But Kiki was the most upstanding moral person on the planet. She wouldn’t hear of it. So the con was that he wouldn’t get to marry the love of his life.
He rang the doorbell.
As the door flew open, he tried not to frown at who stood before him. Regardless, Duckie Capri wasn’t the first person he’d come to see.
“Is Kiki here?”
“Hi, sexy! Come in. She’s just getting dressed. I’ll get her.” Duckie eyed Dejon for a minute and then shouted, “Kiki! You’re fiancé is here, Miss Thang. Get your butt out here.”
Dejon laughed and then nervously put his hands in his pocket.
“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Me?” Duckie winked at him.
“Funny.” He smiled. Duckie was always coming on to him. It wasn’t annoying or anything, rather relentless.
With a heavy sway in her hips, hair tossed in a beachy girl kind of way, Kiki came out of her bedroom carrying herself differently than he’d seen in the past. She was sultry, sexy.
“Hi, babes.” She hugged him and then leaned up for him to kiss her.
He couldn’t. “Can we sit?”
Surprised, she motioned for them to take the sofa.
“Duckie, would you mind letting us have some privacy?” Dejon asked.
“Sure. I’ll just go for a walk around the block like a mutt in heat, since I don’t live here or anything.” Duckie’s face pinched together.
“Don’t be like that.” Kiki rolled her blue eyes and shook her head in disapproval at his sassy tongue.
“Fine! I’m going to the store. Need anything?”
“No, we’re good.”
“You sure. Condoms? A pregnancy test? I can get you whatever you want.”
“Duckie! Get out of here.” Kiki’s voice rose an octave, one that Dejon hadn’t heard before.
“Oh all right. I’ll see you bitches later.” Duckie threw his jacket over his shoulder, giving them his best James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause impression, and sauntered out the door.
“Is he always like that?” Dejon asked.
“Pretty much.” She laughed. He tried to also, but couldn’t. How could he? His heart was breaking.
“Babes, your hands are shaking. Are you okay?” Kiki reached for him, locking her fingers with his.
“I came over because I wanted to tell you something in person.”
“Okay.” She sat back on the sofa. “If it’s about the other day, I just want you to know that I love you and have no regrets.”
“Huh?” He had no clue what she was talking about.
“Don’t play dumb. You know, the corset at the office.”
“Right. How did Madam Queen Dick Dupree’s sales go?” He’d remembered hearing something about Kiki working on a new line of lingerie, but that was all he knew.
“We hit our goal, and they’ve already invited the brand back for next quarter. Isn’t that wonderful? Everything is going so well at work. I can’t wait for the Style Gala. Then I’m going to tell Taddy I’m quitting.”
“Why?” He hadn’t heard that one before.
“So we can focus on starting a family after we get married.”
“Right. About our wedding. See that’s why I’m here….”
Her chin dropped.
“Kiki, I can’t marry you. Not right now. I’m going through some personal things that have come to light from my childhood. And something else, a promise I made to my dad.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I think we should take a break for a while. Regroup in a couple weeks.”
She shot to her feet. “You’re serious?”
With a nod of confirmation, a pit opened in his stomach as he stood.
“Is this because we had sex the other day?”
“What are you talking about?” They didn’t have sex. He would definitely have remembered that.
“Dejon. Cut the bull.”
“We need to take a break. I’m really stressed and I don’t want us to argue. You have to work the Style Gala just like I do. I’m spinning there, remember?”
“Whoop dee do!”
“Please. Can we just push the wedding back a few months? I’ll be able to explain everything then.”
Marching over to the door, she held it open. “If you think for one second that you can come to my office and fuck me like no tomorrow, get me all hot and bothered, make me call you that silly name, and then leave me at the altar, you have another thing coming.”
“What silly name?” He started to walk toward her, to make sense of what she was talking about.
“Dash! Now I don’t know who the heck you are today, but I sure as heck want nothing to do with you. Get out.” She burst into tears.
He wanted to hold her and make all the pain go away, but he couldn’t. His brother’s name rang in his ears as he made his way out of her building, and down the street. Dejon headed west and walked along the main highway that wrapped the island of Manhattan. An hour later he found himself in the Upper West Side, taking a seat at Irving Farm Coffee Roasters on West 79th Street while trying to piece together what had just happened.
Patrons of the coffee shop glared at him. He realized he must’ve looked a mess. He’d been crying, hair knotted from pulling on it out of frustration shirttail crumbled at the corners from where he’d blown his nose.
To avoid being asked to leave, he ordered a cup of chamomile tea and a poppy seed muffin. Unable to eat anything, he took a small round table in the back by the espresso bar and picked at the bread. Pushing the overwhelming feelings of anger, frustration, and paranoia to the back of his mind, he reached for his cell phone and called his brother, who answered on the fourth ring.
“Dash. The other day when you went for a walk to explore the city, where did you go?”
His brother hesitated for a minute before saying, “Why don’t you come back to the apartment and we can talk about this man-to-man.”
“You meet Kiki?” A heaviness in his chest tightened as he dropped his shoulders, slouching farther over the table.
“Let’s not do this over the phone.”
“Did you tell her you were me?” He winced, feeling his skin heating up.
“Dejon. Stop.”
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” he snapped and then started to sob the minute the words came out of his mouth.
Dash hung up.
Destroyed, sick with despair, he bent forward, laid his head on his arms, and cried harder than when his father had died.
Recently he’d lost so much in his life. First his father, then his fiancée, and now his brother.
Nothing would ever be the same between them. Ever
Flawless Fuckery
Javits Center, Hell’s Kitchen
Kiki
One Day Ago
“Shine, Miss Thang.” Duckie gasped, drawing his clipboard up to his chin. He’d be in charge of the night’s VIP attendance, which included but wasn’t limited to Gaga, Beyoncé, and Miley. Everyone who was anyone never missed a Brill, Inc. party.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so big, so brilliant, so beautiful in my entire life.” Kiki, like Duckie, couldn’t t
ake her eyes off it.
The Great Nova of Africa sat in a large case in the middle of the ballroom.
“Do you think it’s wise for us to have a two-pound, four-thousand-carat of a diamond in the center of the dance floor? What if people knock it over?” Duckie questioned her for the umpteenth time. He was nervous about the gala. Ever since the corset size fiasco, his oversexed and underpaid ass had been on the line.
Earlier in the day, Taddy had threatened to have him banished to Nebraska where he’d be doing the publicity for a lawn fertilizer company called Compost Cow, whose slogan was ‘Growing green things faster than Mother Nature intended.’ The product smelled of manure, largely because that was the main ingredient.
“Miss Brill says that Paloma insisted that her greatest stone be the center of attention. The case it’s resting on is secured to the floor with weights. No one—and I mean no one—can move Great Nova even an inch. The case is made out of a shatterproof, two-inch-thick bonded glass, much like what they make the front windshield out of on those Volvo cars. Plus, there’ll be velvet ropes around the box in case anyone gets too close. And let’s not forget those two burly security guards standing next to it the entire time.” She smiled at the one with the gold front teeth, waved, and greeted, “Hi there! If you two need anything tonight, just come get me. This is my show.”
“Where did Taddy put the DJ?”
“Who?” She played dumb. After Dejon called off their wedding and left her apartment with his tail between his legs, she spent the remainder of the day in bed with Hedda Hopper, wrapped in her favorite purple plaid Snuggie and eating funeral potatoes. Her mother had texted the recipe, and Taddy sent her personal chef over to bake them.
“How are you feeling about seeing him?”
“Taddy assigned Dejon’s DJ booth behind that wall over there. The guests won’t even know the music is spinning by his hands. She said, and I quote, ‘This is a party about pretty things. Let’s keep ugly out of sight and out of mind.’ As far as they’re concerned it could be from someone’s mobile device. I wish he’d just phone his music tracks in and not show up at all. Don’t you?”