by Alice Bello
Moments later I slipped into the red silk dress and Bess zipped me up. I stood there looking at myself in my dinky mirror, wishing I had the mirror from my dream. I looked sensational... just like last time, but sexier. This dress not only clung to my every curve but shimmered when I moved.
“Just don’t get any stains on it, okay cupcake.”
“Yes ma’am.” I saluted Bess. But my whimsical smile slid off my face as she held out tonight’s pair of shoes. The heel was lower, but impossibly thin. It was red, but almost as unsubstantial as my tooth-floss inspired underwear.
“Can you say Jimmy Choo?” Bess cooed, as if presenting a stuffed bear to a toddler.
“Jimmy who?”
Bess shook her head with disappointment. “You sure you’re a girl?”
She sat me down on the bed as she latched the ultra light leather heels to my feet. “I don’t even know another woman that wouldn’t kill their housekeepers — or their first born — for a pair of these shoes.
“Well, I don’t have a housekeeper or a first born.”
“Yet.”
I reached out and hugged her. “You have such high hopes for me.”
Bess patted me on the top of my perfectly groomed head. “I just don’t want to visit you when we’re old and you’re still in this apartment... with a dozen cats.”
Bess pulled me up off the bed and helped me gain my balance as I wobbled in my new ultra elegant and ultra misogynistic pair of shoes.
“Why are these harder to walk in than the other pair?” I laughed as I held on to Bess for dear life. “They’re not even as high a heel!”
“Because they cost more, that’s why.” Bess finally let go after I’d taken a few tentative steps across the room. “Okay, I think you’ve got it.”
I stood there trying to look elegant, but instead I knew from the look on Bess’ face that I looked pathetic.
Bess slipped off her own impossibly high, impossibly slim heels. “Just remember to walk on your toes, never on your heels.” Which sounded like the most ironic statement ever spoken in human history. Bess demonstrated walking across the floor in front of me on her toes.
“I didn’t know you were a freaking ballerina.”
“I’m not, I just practiced and practiced, until I could walk in any shoe that they could think of.” She looked at me with an air of triumph. “Why do you think I try on almost every good shoe in any shoe store I frequent?”
“You’re training?”
“Yep, and now I look so good walking in any shoe, women everywhere glare in envy,” her voice turned wispy. “And men everywhere can’t keep their tongues in their mouths.”
“Thanks for the visual.”
Bess took me for a few more laps around the apartment, and slowly I started to feel more balanced, steadier. But then she let go of my hands and my usual clunky gait returned.
“I gotta go. You’re not the only one with a date with a doctor.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Nope. I already checked.” Bess air kissed me, which made my eyebrows furrow incredulously. “Don’t wanna mess up your makeup, comprende?”
A flourish of satin and lace, and she was out the door like the wind... the wind on five inch heels.
~*~
I practiced more laps in my fashionably torturous shoes. I was just about getting the hang of it when there was a knock at the door. This made me topple onto the back of the couch, groping for a position to push myself upright again.
I suddenly felt really sorry for the waitress with the new boobs. To have to wear these infernal things to work every day would be true hell.
Finally, I got myself back on my feet, straightened out the dress and wobbled to the door. I pulled it open and the sight of Dean standing there took my breath away.
Gone was the jacket and the tie. Instead, he wore just the most glorious blue silk shirt. It fit his well muscled torso well enough to show off his fantastic physique without being so tight as to show his nipples.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice a low growl.
“So do you ...” And suddenly I was tripping backwards into my apartment. Dean caught me in his arms and held me steady.”
“Are you drunk?” His smile was so sexy, and so infuriatingly smart-ass.
“New shoes.” I didn’t mind having his arms around me, and I really didn’t mind having his lips so close to mine again.
“Well, we can’t have you falling into every strange man we come across tonight... my ego can only take so much.”
I could only take so much, too. Every word he uttered brought his mouth closer and closer to my own. I just wanted to grab him and kiss him — screw dinner! My bedroom was sounding better and better.
“Where’s your bedroom?” Dean asked, reading my mind.
I gulped. “In there.” I pointed to my right. I was sure he was about to scoop me up in those strong, thick arms of his and carry me back to my bed, where he’d no doubt tear off Bess’ dress and make love to me until dawn.
“Be right back.” He wriggled his eyebrows as he propped me up against the back of the couch.
Or maybe not, I thought to myself.
As he disappeared into my bedroom I suddenly envisioned my unmade bed, and my hastily shed scrubs and undies — and bra! — scattered on the floor. Oh god!
Dean came back with the heels I’d worn last night. The black satin three inch ones.
“You did much better in these,” he said as he dropped stealthily to his knees and took my right foot into his hands. Slowly he unclasped the spaghetti-string leather straps and slid the shoe from my foot. His fingers sensuously glided over my insole, making me squirm, and not just on the outside. He fitted the black shoe on with more slow caresses, and then moved to the other foot. I felt like Cinderella, but the R-rated version.
When he stood up again he leaned into me until our lips grazed. “That better?”
I felt dizzy and breathless as I nodded yes, my chin moving upward to kiss him.
But the bastard moved away, receding out of lip lock, and pulling me toward the door.
“Good,” he said, taunting me by acting oblivious to what had almost happened. “I’m starving.”
~*~
This time we walked. Dean said the Indian restaurant was only a couple blocks away. I was walking with confidence in the old shoes, and with Dean’s hand in mine I felt not only like a movie star, but also like my core temperature had risen about ten degrees. I imagined the trees planted along the sidewalk would burst into flame as I walked past.
I’ve never been one for the hand holding stuff, but I had to admit I was really getting into holding Dean’s strong, surprisingly soft hand. And with every step we took I was more sure that I wasn’t going to let him get away tonight with just a kiss. Even if I had to board up and padlock the front door. Even if I had to tie him up with duct tape. He was going to be mine.
Again, I sounded just like Bess. Maybe it was because I was wearing her clothes?
I suddenly flashed back to something Bess had instructed me to do: shave my legs. Had I? I suddenly couldn’t remember what I’d done this evening in the shower. I reached down as we walked and gave my bare leg a feel.
Dean looked back at me over his shoulder, a quizzical smile on his face that said Caught you!
“Everything alright?”
“Yep. Everything’s great.” Better than great, I thought. Spectacular. I’d shaved my legs.
~*~
Dean was right about the Indian restaurant. The service was lousy: the waiter was slow; you had to tell him a pitcher of water and a pitcher of ice, because if you just asked for a pitcher of ice water you only got around three cubes. But when the curried lamb and the garlic flat bread, and the strange little chips with plum jelly came, now that was divine.
We dug in as if we’d never eaten before, starving. Of course it had taken almost an hour to get the food, so we might have been in the throes of starvation.
As I started
in on my second helping of lamb I suddenly thought of my breath. Oh god I thought, surveying the lamb and the garlic flat bread I’d used like pita pockets. My breath is going to reek!
I hadn’t brought a purse filled with breath mints either. I didn’t even own a purse.
But then I reasoned, Dean was eating the exact same thing as I was, so his breath would be the same as mine. Nothing to worry about, right?
Right then and there I started to strategize a way to procure some mints without him ever knowing. There were three pharmacies within the last three blocks, and three bodegas, so I had a great chance of pulling him into one and snagging some without him noticing.
When there wasn’t a scrap of flat bread, no chip, not a morsel of lamb left, Dean left money on the table, not waiting for the ever-so-slow tortoise of a waiter, and then we exited the restaurant. Luck would have it there was a small bowl of mints on the counter by the door. I snagged one and popped it in my mouth. Thank god for the complimentary mint.
He pulled me close as we wove through the evening throngs to the ice cream parlor. I’d forgotten all about it. Dessert. I was so stuffed already.
But when I saw all the different flavors, the waffle cones, and the luscious colors the place was painted, I suddenly had a craving for a strawberry waffle cone. Magically my stomach made room for it, and a few moments later we were strolling along the street in the opposite direction as my apartment, eating ice cream, our shoulders touching as we walked.
After we’d devoured the ice cream we still kept walking. Slow and aimlessly. A breeze had kicked up and I could smell rain. I didn’t care. All I wanted was this. Well, maybe this and a lot of other stuff later in my apartment. But this was pretty great. Dean stopped and said, “We’re a long way from your apartment, maybe we should head back. Looks like it’s going to rain.”
“Okay,” I whispered as I looked up into his pretty brown eyes. And right before me his eyes darkened, and I could see the heat build up in them again. He pulled me to him. He smelled amazing, and the feel of him through his silk shirt made me gasp. He leaned in to me, our lips locking, our tongues touching as we sank into the deepest of kisses.
I could swear I heard music... I could practically see fireworks going off in my head. I wrapped my arms around his neck as his arms enveloped me and crushed me to him. Suddenly I could hear the fireworks too.
Our lips parted and slowly, as if waking from a dream, I realized it was raining. A flash of lightning clapped above us, making the entire street throb in its dangerous light.
That’s where the fireworks were coming from.
He tugged me in the direction to my apartment. “I should get you back home and out of those wet clothes ...” He wriggled his eyebrows at me again. “Hypothermia, you know.”
“We wouldn’t want that.”
We walked quickly back to my apartment, stealing kisses in doorways every twenty or so feet. Each kiss was deeper and longer than the one before it. I started to think we wouldn’t make it back to my apartment before we finally just did it there in the street.
Finally we were in front of my apartment building. I pulled him in through the front door, into the elevator and we made out like crazy until the elevator rang and the doors opened onto my floor. I let us into my apartment and laid one hell of a lip lock on him. I could feel he was hard, his cock pressing against my thigh as we groped each other.
Abruptly he pulled away from me, shaking his head.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this on our second date.”
“Really?” I’d barely been able to keep myself from doing it on our first date.
“Really.” His face looked so firm. “I just can’t.”
He leaned in and kissed me quickly on the lips and disappeared through the door, closing it behind him with the slightest of clicks.
I stood there in shock.
What is up with this guy, I thought as there came an emphatic knocking at the door. I opened it and there stood Dean, drenched, his chest heaving, and his eyes darker and hotter than ever.
“Our second date is over, right?” he said as he moved back through my door and started pulling off his sodden shirt.
“Definitely over.” I pulled him into another torrid kiss and he scooped me up in his arms and carried me off into the bedroom.
Chapter 13
My unmade bed wasn’t mentioned, my discarded clothing — even my bra and panties — were ignored. Dean paid his attentions, and his caresses and kisses, only to me. He smelled great, like the morning rain spiced with a dangerous dose of some heavenly Christian Dior scent — though I doubted he had cologne on. If he had, it was washed off by now.
He pulled open his shirt, heedlessly popping buttons in his wish to be naked with me. I ran my hand down his chest, the firm smooth planes of his taught pectorals. I licked the rain from his flesh, my tongue gliding over his tan skin to his nipples — twin brown raspberries. I took one into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the tender nub, nibbling as Dean’s hands ran through my wet hair, groaning as I feasted.
He pulled my face back to his own and devoured my mouth in another mesmerizing kiss. His arms wrapped around me like Anacondas as his hands worked the zipper to my dress, pulling the back open and running his hands under the soaked silk, and over the feverish flesh of my lower back, and down over my thong bared butt.
It was my turn to moan as he peeled down my dress — I’d forgotten I wasn’t wearing a bra, thought I had another layer of something before I was naked. But before I could even whimper in regret I whimpered in ecstasy as he returned my nipple play. His mouth was hot on my neck, then smooth as his lips cascaded over my overheated flesh. When he took my nipple in his mouth I thought I’d burst into flames, the heat of his mouth, the teasing slipperiness of his tongue as he tongued and sucked on my tit.
I writhed against him as my dress slinked down my body and over my hips, dropping into a silken puddle at my feet.
He lowered me onto the bed as his mouth traced the line of my ribs, then over the curve of my belly, then bit playfully at the flesh of my hipbone as his marvelous fingers pulled down and effortlessly removed my amazingly expensive red satin thong.
I think we both moaned as he kissed his way down my thigh, his hands pulling me free at last from my arduous heels. But I sucked in my breath and tensed up as he kissed his way back up the inside of my thigh. I didn’t dare move — I didn’t know what the hell he was doing, at first, but then his mouth made contact with my quivering sex. The air expelled from my lungs in the longest, most feral groan, as his arms wrapped up around my hips, searching fingertips tickling the sensitive flesh of my hipbones, his tongue now darting into me, tasting, taunting, making me press my hands down hard on his brawny shoulders. My short nails probably dug into his skin, but he didn’t protest. If anything his mouth kissed my spasming pussy all the deeper. His tongue lapped greedily at my vaginal lips, swirling about my clit like a mini-hurricane.
I couldn’t take it — felt like I was going to explode, my insides churning like a locomotive. My head was free of all other thought except, “I want you inside me... NOW!”
My eyes bugged out as I realized I’d said it out loud.
I shuddered at the desperation in my own voice. Dean raised his gorgeous face from my sex, his mouth bruised, his lips glistening. He smiled as if he had the juiciest secret in the world on the tip of his tongue.
“I hope you don’t get the wrong idea, but I ...” he pulled a condom from his pants pocket and held it up for me to see.
“Bess bought me a whole box and left them in the bedside table.”
“God bless Bess,” Dean growled as he unbuckled his belt and pulled open his pants, peeling the wet fabric down his hips. He turned as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out from each clinging leg, his dimpled ass, creamy and white, bouncing with a youthful jiggle.
My jaw dropped, though, as he turned around and I got a look at his swaying, huge, hard cock. Not only was it as long and
thick as most men’s forearms, but it seemed to be getting bigger. Hardening and curling upward as he gently stroked it, moving back to me on the bed.
Dean tore the condom open with his teeth and a moment later was rolling the latex sheath over his hard prick.
I knew he was too big — hell, I’d never even seen anything so big, not to mention had it pushed into me. Excuses came to mind... excuses that sounded lame and rather stupid.
But the other half of me, the half that had had Dean’s wondrous mouth lavishing it with attention, that part of me yearned for him... all of him.
He crawled onto the bed with me, his naked body lowering on top of mine, the feel of him, his weight bearing down on me. The way he gently pushed my thighs apart using his own, the way his manhood rubbed ardently against my sensitive opening.
I ran my hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath the flesh working. I felt him push the thick blunt end of his cock against the entrance to my vagina, first gently, then with more pressure as he put his weight into spearing me, inch by inch.
He kissed me hard, lapping up my groans of pleasure and pain like it was milk. My hips bucked involuntarily as his last inches stretched my vaginal walls to accommodate him.
By then my arms were wrapped tight around his neck, my legs wrapped about his hips, digging one heel into one of his gorgeous mounds of ass.
He started rocking his hips as I clung to him, lost in the haze of lust that clouded my brain. It hurt more now, but it was a very good hurt, the kind that made me pant for breath as he nibbled and licked at my neck. When his tongue gently flicked at my earlobe, and then gently sucked, nibbling at the flesh, I felt my insides shudder and my sex contract, the vaginal walls relaxing as my body opened wide to take all of him into me.
“Oh god,” Dean murmured into my ear as my pussy undulated, one moment loose, the next clamping down on his rigid member. His arms shook and he just fell into me, our bodies pressing together so tight I lost my breath, lost my mind too at the sheer ecstasy of having him pressed against me so fully.