Climax

by Kohl, Sexxa

  My legs begin wobbling as I nervously walk to the other room where he is waiting. I don’t understand what this could possibly be about.

  “Look, Raven. I hate to do this to you, especially now and all, but I’m having to let you go.”

  “What? Mike! I am sorry I missed the other day. I will make it up, I swear. You know I need this job right now more than ever. Please!” I beg him, but he holds his hands up to stop me from saying anything more.

  “You’re a sweet girl, Raven. You don’t need to be in a place like this anyways. Do something better than this with your life.”

  “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” I’m crying hysterically now. There is no way I can’t make it without this job.

  “I’m sorry, Raven.” He says, leaving me standing in the side storage closet crying all alone.

  When I finally emerge from the room, everyone turns and stares. Some are laughing while others just whisper. I’m in such a shocked state that I don’t know what to do. Dazed, I take my bag and pull out my jeans and sweatshirt. Quickly changing, I then walk over to my designated wardrobe area.

  Yanking the clothes off the hangers, I violently shove them into my bag, tossing along shoes and other accessories. I want to just rip all of it into shreds at this point. I don’t have room in my bag for my angel wings so I throw them into Honey’s pile next to my section. Leaving, I grab for my makeup kit on the counter and wipe the tears away from the back of my hand. As I walk away, I glance up and catch a glimpse of myself in the long mirror on the wall. The split glass is quite fitting since that is how I feel. Broken. My thick heavy eye shadow is now smeared everywhere down my face. I look horrific and I don’t give a fuck. All I want to do is to leave and pretend that I had never walked into this club in the first place. It has already robbed me of so much.

  Cursing the air before me, I stagger across the pavement of the club parking lot still in these tall ass stilettos. “FUCK!” I scream as my ankle twists, causing me to stumble. Mike is too damn cheap to fill in these holes! The pavement crunches behind me. I spin around, raising up my heavy bag ready to punch the asshole who is creeping up on me.

  I see him emerge from the shadows and feel my chest tighten. It is as if every single ounce of air just got sucked out of my body. His eyes are so powerful that they paralyze me in my spot. My limp arm drops the heavy weight beside me, nearly taking my limp body down with it. We stare at each other for what seems like forever. And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving me there in a shaking nervous mess.

  The moment my feet begin working again, I run to my car and throw my bag into the back seat. When I glance in the rearview mirror, I expect to see him there but he isn’t. As fast as possible, I barrel out this place, trying to leave the pain and regret there along with it.

  Day 4

  Blaire

  Cry. That’s all I ever seem to do anymore as if crying does me any good. People around me don’t pay me any mind. I guess they think it’s natural to be upset at this place. It’s certainly not the happiest place for any of us to be right now.

  All night long, I had held onto my pillow as the tears soaked the cotton pillowcase. I have no job, my bills are going to pile up, and, worst of all, my mom is having her surgery tomorrow. I know it is her only hope, but I also know it is also a risky and dangerous procedure, one with a long list of bad outcome scenarios. The thought of her not making it tears my soul out. That is, if I even have one left in me now.

  Splashing cold water on my face, I shuffle around the clothes in my bag searching for something to wear. My hands slide across something and I quickly realize it’s the contract he gave me yesterday. I’d read over it a bit last night before I fell asleep and cursed myself for not reading it more carefully before I had signed it. Suddenly, I remember what it had said about my attire.

  A dress or a skirt. Shit!

  I dig deeper in the bag. Thankfully, I have packed an extra skirt in here with my other things to wear today. Taking a little extra time, I dress and add makeup to cover up my puffy eyes. Checking my bag into my assigned storage locker, I toss the lock in my purse and head upstairs to check on my mom.

  You’d think this would get easier, but it doesn’t. Every time I walk in her room, I am overwhelmed at the sight of her. The machines that keep her breathing and the fluids that pump inside her keep her body fed. Each visit I have with her, she looks weaker and paler than the time before. I just want my mom back. I miss her voice; I miss her laugh. Squeezing her cold hand, I lean in and place a kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m here, Mom. Stay with me!”

  Continuing with my normal routine, I alternate rubbing her feet and her hands with her favorite lotion. The room smells of raspberry vanilla when I’m done. I sit beside the bed and begin reading to her. With her eyes so weak, she’d always loved it when I’d do this at home. I am just finishing her favorite chapter of The Notebook when a knock on the door interrupts me. Susan, one of my mom’s favorite nurses on this floor, peeps her head in and smiles at me.

  “Hi, Blaire. We’re needing to get your mom ready to run a group of final tests for surgery tomorrow. It may be a while so why don’t you go home and get some rest. You look exhausted.”

  A nap? Sleep? What exactly is that? It’s been so long since I’ve slept solid I’d forgotten. Exhaustion is just something I deal with.

  “Thanks Susan. I’ve got some errands I need to do anyways.” I reply. I have still have to take care of arranging for the bank to transfer the money to pay off my mom’s hospital bill. I kiss my mom goodbye and Susan gives me a sympathetic smile.

  “We’ll take good care of her,” she promises.

  I nod and pick up my purse to leave. As I wait for the elevator to arrive, I study the speckled tiles of the hospital floor. I manage to count forty-six specks before the familiar ping sounds its arrival. I watch my reflection distort as the steel doors open. Instantly, the air electrifies me sending goose bumps all the way down my spine. I dare a glance upwards and lock eyes with the last person on Earth I’d ever expect to see here. Beautiful man. Sharply dressed in an expensive charcoal gray designer suit with a dark crimson silk tie, he exudes power and wealth. His dark eyes pierce me, silently commanding me forward. Every single inch of my body is on fire and I haven’t even touched him. It terrifies me to think what would ever happen if I ever do.

  I can’t speak.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t move.

  Smiling he holds the elevator door, preventing it from closing.

  Sweet Jesus! Why does he have to have a smile like that! It’s simply not fair.

  I want to walk forward, but I can’t. Shyly smiling back at him, my eyes drop to the floor and I step forward into the elevator with him. The doors shut behind me and I panic.

  Shit!

  Can I be in this closed space with him, without my body combusting into flames?

  “Thank you, Sir.” I say, catching myself in the way I’d just addressed him. Mr. R’s rules have overtaken me, I suppose. His gorgeous dark eyes burn with intensity; the sly smile he rewards me with is lethal. Looking down, I swallow the huge lump in my throat and nervously play with the bracelet on my wrist. When I look back up, he is still staring at me.

  Damn my body! Damn him! Why is he even here at this place anyways?

  I try to keep staring ahead, but my eyes are fighting some unforeseen force. I do what every smart girl does, the one thing that men never can seem to do without turning their head, I use my supersonic peripheral vision. Everything about him is complete and utter perfection. Greek Gods would bow at this man’s feet. Hell, I can’t even look at the man without blushing. I don’t know why he is still studying me.

  My mind wonders. Is he like Mr. R? Sure he is! Men like him need that power. I’m sure he has a long list of women he ties up and fucks. I grow sick at my stomach. Oh God. Jealousy overtakes me and I finally admit something to myself.

  I want to be one of his women.
>
  Sweat forms on my brow; my chest is burning from keeping in the breath I hadn’t known I was holding.

  Damn it! Why is it so fucking hot in this elevator?

  Sex.

  All I can think about is sex. For days now, I’ve fantasized about this man touching and fucking me. He has no idea the things I’ve done with another man, all while imagining he was the one doing it to my body instead. Every time Mr. R touches me, it is him. When Mr. R rams his cock inside of me, in my mind, it’s him instead.

  My face blushes at my memories. I shift my legs to ease the fullness in my lower region, my need for a release growing more and more unbearable by the second. This man is going to cause me to orgasm just by standing next to him. He is still waiting for me to look in his direction, but I can’t. If I dare look back into his eyes, I will be lost. I want him to take me right now in this elevator. I don’t care that he has had Honey. I want him, but he is too dangerous. Just like Mr. R, I will only ever be an easy meaningless fuck to Beautiful Man.

  Knowing I have to distract myself for the few remaining floors, I pretend to search for my car keys in my purse, even though they’ve been in the inside pocket all along. Reaching in to retrieve them, the elevator slows, settling on the ground floor. He extends his hand out to allow me to exit first and I nervously step forward. I’m so clumsy that I trip on my first step, but his hands are there to catch me. The power in his touch overwhelms me, sending my keys flying out my hand, landing just beside my foot.

  Once he steadies me, he bends down to pick up my keys, taking a moment to place his hand around my ankle. His gentle stroke of his finger across my foot is spellbinding. That one touch literally electrocutes my vagina. My body is shaking; I feel the warmth of his body as he stands to lean in closer. My clit throbs harder.

  Oh, fuck!

  Beautiful Man takes my hand into his. As if he wills me to do so, I open it. He slides my keys delicately across my palm and then shuts my fingers around them. Something about his touch is so familiar. Why? He looks deep into my eyes, virtually stripping my soul into and stealing my breath. Forcing my eyes away, I have to blink out of his hypnotic power. What just happened?

  Sweet Jesus, I want him!

  I’ve got to get the hell out of here before I throw myself on him and have my way. With wobbly knees and soaked panties, I bolt off the elevator and practically run out the front door of the hospital.

  The warm beautiful sunlight feels heavenly on my face. I wish I could smile at it; I wish I had anything worth smiling about. No matter how hard I try, a black cloud always follows me, raining on any happiness I’ve ever managed to have in my life.

  It’s a long way to my car since I had to park so far away last night. I don’t mind the walk. Right now, I need to clear my head and find peace. I think I know just the place. Shamefully, it has been a while since I have been there, but I think it is the only thing that can help me right now. My car finally starts after several attempts, and I circle the parking lot, heading somewhere I pray will help.

  Jaxxon

  I’m sure she thinks our meeting is by accident, but it certainly isn’t. She needs to be tested. I need to know how she will respond to me. I need her to see how my body reacts to her. She needs to see what is right in front of her eyes now that the blindfold is off.

  My plan is more than effective! She wants me just as much as I want her. When she first stepped in this elevator, I didn’t think I would be able to control myself from having what I want. What does that say about me? Who is testing whom here? I should have no problem staying in control, but it’s becoming painfully obvious that my brilliant plan is backfiring right in my face.

  As if I have some sort of mind power over her, I will her to look at me. I want her to feel me, to touch me. To know that I’m the one who makes her scream in pleasure. I want her to know that she is mine. I know it sounds stupid to admit, but I am becoming jealous of myself. When she knows me as Mr. R, she acts as if she wants him, but now, she acts as if she wants Jaxxon, too. Isn’t it obvious? Can she not see that we are the same person?

  When her keys drop, it gives me the perfect opportunity to test her a little more. I can smell her sweet desire blanketing the entire elevator. It makes my mouth drool, my cock twitch. She needs to be fucked. I need to fuck her. Perhaps then, she will recognize that I own her.

  Do not touch her. You will not be able to suppress the desire.

  Dropping to my knees, I fight it, but it’s no use. I crave the feel of her skin. The moment I bend down, I catch a glimpse of the red mark on her ankle. Immediately, I know it is from the other night. I suppress the growl inside of me. My chest swells with pride that I’ve marked her. But sometimes pride blinds us, just like now. Before I even realize it, I have my hand on her ankle. Her skin sears me with desire, but I can’t let go. I dare an upward glance of her fucking, long, gorgeous legs. Her beautiful body begins shaking and I smile. I’ve successfully placed her under my spell. Normally I would gloat because I’ve never met a woman who is immune to my charm. Until her, I’ve never been turned down. The only thing is that I’ve also never met a woman who has ever left me powerless. Blaire Michaels has officially brought me to my knees.

  She is so lost in thought that she doesn’t even notice that I’m following her. Settling into my car, I continue observing her from a safe distance. Adjusting my sunglasses, I put my car in gear and follow her out of the parking lot. We drive for a couple of miles before she pulls in front of a large, old church building and parks.

  A church? Are you kidding me?

  I certainly didn’t see this one coming. Smiling devilishly, I devise another plan. I’ve tested her reaction to me. Now, it’s time to test her loyalty.

  Blaire

  Perhaps it is the chaos that I call my life, or the desperation I have to plea for my soul, but for whatever reason, I find myself sitting in the back of this old church. Growing up, I always loved coming here with my mom on Sundays. The one hundred and twenty-year-old building is one of the oldest churches in our town and has been featured in many magazines for its amazing architectural designs. With its beautiful cathedral ceilings, carved wooden balcony, and gorgeous stained glass windows, I can’t picture a more perfect place for anyone to find solace. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, enjoying the silence around me. This is definitely what I need right now.

  Since it is early in the afternoon, the church is virtually empty except for the two people in the front row. Not wanting to be seen, I opt to sit in the far corner near the wall. I haven’t been in this place for over a year, but everything still looks the same. Since I’ve started stripping, I’ve felt as if I don’t deserve passage through these doors. I feel like hypocrite being here. Even though my reasons for living this double life come with good intentions, I don’t really think that God sees it that way.

  I straighten my skirt and bow my head. Before I can even begin my prayer, a quiet chirping in my coat pocket makes me scramble to keep from causing a scene. I know I should have silenced the phone while I am in church, but I can’t risk not answering him when he calls for me.

  Turning my body to the side, I whisper, “Hello?”

  “It is time to play, my pet.”

  “I can’t. I’m at chur-”

  I try to explain but he quickly snaps at me.

  “SILENCE!” he roars at me. “I don’t care WHERE you are! You WILL do as I say! Is that understood?”

  “Y-Yes, Sir,” I reply as quietly as I can into the phone.

  “Good. Very good, Raven. I would hate for us to have a problem with you understanding that. Did you wear a skirt like I asked?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl. Are you sitting?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Such good manners, my beautiful girl. I want you to spread your legs open and run your hand up your thigh.”

  I hesitate and he growls into the phone, “Are you doing it?”

  “Sir, I-,”

  I begin speaki
ng, but am cut off once again by him before I can argue.

  “DO IT!” he screams into the phone, sending fear through my body.

  Looking around, I see that no one is paying me any attention. I don’t bother looking up because I know the balcony is closed for future renovations, and no one is allowed up there. As I slide my hand underneath my skirt, a rush of guilt passes over me. For goodness sake, this is a church. This is so wrong! Just minutes ago, I walked in this place to find peace, and now I am touching myself. Reaching further up, I discover how wet his commanding voice has made me.

  Yeah, I’m pretty sure I am going to Hell.

  “You’re already dripping wet for me, aren’t you, Raven? Tell me the truth!”

  “Yes,” I breathlessly answer him while continuing to swirl my fingers around my moist opening.

  This is so unbelievably wrong, but feels so right.

  OH, GOD! Does it ever feel so right!

  “Close your eyes. I want you to pretend that it’s me touching you. Imagine every movement of your fingers as being mine,” he orders, and I gasp into the phone.

  DAMN IT! This is so unbelievably hot!

  “That’s right, Baby. Feel that warm wet pussy. Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  His breath quickly catches over the phone. I can hear just how turned on this is making him.

  “I want you to stick two fingers inside of you and fuck yourself until you come. I want you to make your thighs drip! Do it now!”

  And just like that, my body automatically obeys his every command. I find myself leaning back into the wooden church pew with my legs spread wide open, thrusting my fingers inside of my drenched hot opening. Over and over, I urge my fingers deeper inside until I feel my walls grip down hard. Growing even wetter, I bite down on my lip to hold in the scream that threatens to escape my lips.

  Yes, I am definitely hell bound for this one!