by JR King
I lifted my hand, introducing my Piaget watch to her as an addendum. “Sure.”
She waved at her colleague. “Is there something I can help you find today? Maybe a gift for your girlfriend?” There was a hint of flirtation in her melodious, thickly accented voice, her quizzical smile clear. “Is it a special occasion?”
The irony. “She’s angry with me.”
“Well, we must do something about it. See something you like? And, if you don’t mind me asking, how much are you looking to spend?”
“A dollar three-eighty,” I told her with a wink.
She looked puzzled. I couldn’t repress my look of amusement.
“Sylvie, il est avec moi,” I heard a familiar voice behind me. I turned my head and stared at the woman approaching. Watched her hips sway. Claudia looked stylish like back in the days, dressed up to the nines. Her hair was loose, and without excessive makeup and push-up bra and butt-lift boyshorts, she didn’t look much older than twenty. She was, if I had to admit it myself, quite the sight.
Two glasses of champagne came our way.
“I don’t give a frog’s fat ass how you found me. Leave me alone,” I began when we were alone.
“Hamilton and Ray are pacing outside,” she clarified in accentless English. “Inquiets.”
Figures. I rested my hand on her shoulder in a friendly, wholly asexual manner. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re looking to spend, let’s do it the correct way, non?” she asked in a low, sultry voice.
“You’re a couple of dilithium crystals short of a warp core if you think I’m going to bang you and some chick you’re hunting.”
“American wit can be sexy, or maybe it’s just you. When was the last time you had a threesome, chéri? Don’t you miss it?”
“I don’t know. Possibly my dick does.”
“No smelly business. I was thinking…poker. High stakes.”
Drawing back my hand, I settled for a terse nod and some fleeting eye contact. “I’m all yours, Claudia.”
“I wish.” Her voice contained a bitter hint of jealousy endemic to a lover. “We’ll take my car.”
Why do men always give in to ex-girlfriends?
I could say I don’t know why. Claudia smelled familiar when I breathed in, and I felt comfortable. I followed her.
In the warm, purring darkness in the back of the limousine, she stroked my thigh. “Tu t’en souviens?”
Her hair glinted like dark copper in the strobe of the passing streetlights. I wound a heavy lock of it around my fingers. “Oui.” She started toward my mouth but I planted a palm on hers and pushed her away with a hard shove. Vacantly, I cupped her face and pulled it closer, bringing a single fingertip to her glossy mouth and traced its line. “Pretty cock-sucking lips, soft like your cunt lips,” I purred.
She glanced owlishly at me, then poked out the tip of her tongue and pressed it to my finger.
Her continuous attempt to seduce me was infuriating. With an unannounced, vicious yank, I snapped her head back against the padded seat. She yelped in surprise, spangled blue eyes catching mine. I leaned in, my face close to hers. “I don’t desire you any more, got it?” She winced, struggling a little, and I wound more and more of her hair around my fist. I trailed my fingertips along her arched jawline and down her neck. Underneath the Chanel N°5, I smelled her arousal grow. “Why are you doing this?”
“I miss this,” she replied, her voice totally unsteady now. “Play with me. Hurt me. Make me feel again.”
I released my grip on her hair and settled back into the seat.
“Allez,” she whisper-whined, her voice tinged with lust, “all of me can be had.” I could tell she didn’t care that I’d frazzled her hair and smeared her trademark red lipstick onto he chin.
“Don’t keep your fingers crossed, Claudia.” I didn’t pause to let my words sink in, or to give her a moment. “You do realize my dick sees this as a clinical operation rather than a clandestine rendezvous with an ex?”
She let out a long, deep sigh as the car turned off the main street and slid past the tall wrought iron gates, heading for the house throned on impregnable ground. Her driver held the car door open with studied impassivity, making me realize how truly unprofessional I looked. I stepped somewhat awkwardly out of the car. Claudia emerged steadily, her appearance fixed, looking proud and gorgeous. Minutes later, all the fuss about wanting me turned out to be baseless. She went off to her husband and kissed him passionately. Told him she and I had run into each other at Chopard. The jealousy I was expecting to see wasn’t there. Instead, it was a warm and welcoming friendliness. How macabre this pantomime of ours was. Financially, she was set for life, and most likely her husband tolerated me around his wifey because he was a man of few words. I don’t know. It all felt like nerve ablation, leaching feelings from my body.
A deep pull of whiskey, and I threw the crystal tumbler against the wall and yelled my frustration.
Patting my back, “You’ll be fine without her,” Claudia whispered, greed and lust in her eyes. “Don’t you want to get back into the game? Two, three tongues licking your beautiful cock, whenever and wherever you want?”
I went on to light a cigar and suck thoughtlessly on it.
This is where you, dear reader, get off my fucking train.
Elena Anderson
The Extremely Drunk Man
Alexander was barking new orders at Hamilton. I shifted when he ducked and settled on the opposite bench from me.
I lurched toward him. “Alex—,”
“Don’t.” His voice whipped with anger, sending me recoiling and falling on my rear. The limousine set in rapid motion, jostling me as it made a U-turn.
He opened the bar and pulled out a bottle.
I watched him pour a shot of whiskey at the bar and toss it back. I waited on the floorboards, my stomach churning with grief. He refilled his glass before shutting the bar and dropping back in his seat.
When the limo pulled up in the hotel’s driveway, “Get out,” he told me.
From the suite’s terrace, I listened to the sporadic drone of traffic and watched the sky lose its luster. I stared in amazement at the descending darkness. Found calm in it. Daytime had a way of dressing life up, taking you for a wild ride. Nighttime had a way of stripping life to its essentials, lending perspective as it swept away all your distractions. Not only was the sky starless, there was no bitter blanket of late summer. Gathering my thoughts, I folded my arms across my chest. I knew I had to make things right with Alexander. Ray and Hamilton were with him, but, staying loyal to their employer, they’d refused to give me the address. Tired of waiting, after a light dinner of a Caesar salad and a glass of Chardonnay, I went to bed.
“Oopsie daisy. What are you playing at? Veeery high stakes?”
The slurred words and the chuckling jolted me awake, making me sit up with a foggy mind. I blinked slowly, as if someone had double-slapped me. Leather soles scraped across the wooden floor. I scrambled out of bed and went to the living area.
“Aha.” Alexander was fumbling with his wallet and phone. “Speak of the devil.” Followed another chuckle, a little more muffled this time, then he muttered something I couldn’t make out as he dropped the things on the floor.
My scalp prickled. Clearly he drank way past his limit, behaving like an escaped lunatic. His bow tie was undone and the top buttons of his tuxedo shirt too. I’d never witnessed him totally inebriated or high, he valued his control too much around me to corrupt his senses. As drunk as he appeared to be, I knew defensive tactics and informed escape plans would have no effect on someone his size.
Cowards die many times before their deaths. Get a grip, Elena. Get a grip, a little voice sang, telling me it was time to be brave and take care of the man I loved.
I jumped into action, strode toward him. “Where were you?”
He chuckled as he advanced a few steps. Unsure of his mood, I inched backward. “Little Elena! Still in m-my suite?” he slurred
, pausing to lean against a console table. “Aren’t you a purty one? Purtier than Claudia.”
I feared the worst. “Alex—,”
He took a stumbling step in my direction and put a forefinger to his lips. “Shh.” He smiled crookedly at me. “Such a pretty lil’ thing, just lemme admire you.” The way he ogled me from head to toe was positively Neanderthalish.
I tried to avert my eyes. But couldn’t. “Where have you been?”
My words were clipped, my expression hard, but he merely smiled, the sight trying to drive away my reasonableness. “You’re very bossy.”
Unruffled by the desire in his eyes as he slowly licked his lips, I asked, “Did you use?”
“Crack-head! Now why would purty girl be with a crack-head?”
“I think you need some coffee. And a shower.”
He snickered. “You wanna wash me, little Elena?”
“Were you with Claudia?” I spoke as calmly as I could. “Tell me what you did, handsome,” I commanded. I could only hope the combination of gentleness and feminine authority in my voice and demeanor would be enough to make him confess.
“Okay.” He spoke as if he was trying to concentrate. Suddenly he tipped his chin up and eyed the ceiling, presumably thinking. “I think…,” his recount fizzled out.
“With whom were you?”
He lurched forward, his big, clumsy hands extending, grabbing hold of my shoulders. Rich, thick vapors hit my nostrils as he yanked me to his chest and sniffed like a pig, almost knocking me over. “Smells clean. Smells good.”
I could smell the single-malt sweetness on his skin, and the scent of cigarsmoke in his hair. “You smell of hard liquor.”
“Expensive whiskey. You, Mademoiselle, have the nicest pair of tits.”
“Come with me.” We stumbled through the room, managing to make it to the bedroom without breaking anything.
“Bed,” he said, grinning at it. “Bed is for sex.” He flopped down on the mattress, sprawling in all directions and smiling up at me. “Filthy sex. Threesomes. Orgies.” He pronounced the words with such exaggeration that I had to smile.
“Or for sleep,” I ground out. “Did you want to have a threesome? An orgy?”
“There’s too many people in an orgy. Is it me or is the room spinning?”
“It’s just you. You’re drunk.” I pronounced the words in a short, terse way, as though I clipped them off with scissors. “Very drunk.”
“Join me?” Lowering his gaze to the vee off my chest, he struggled up onto his elbow, sitting up in the gawkiest manner. “I got very upset with you. I might…might forgive you if you’ll come over here and let me make sweet love to your nipples.”
“Let’s get you undressed.”
“Now we’re talking. Woohoo!” The exclamation left his lips kiss-puckered, with which he tried to smooch, slurpy sounds and all.
Removing his jacket went smoothly. I caught a waft of his breath; it was neither raw nor had it a nauseating odor of liquor rolling off it, it was a cool stream of peppery eucalyptus mint. “Went a little heavy on wafer-thin mints?”
“I dunno ‘bout that. I played poker and won,” he stated proudly. “Careful, there’s a big check in my pocket.”
I angled my head to the side. “Oh, I see.”
“Oh, I see,” he echoed in singsong. “Apropos, everyone else got skunked. Straight flush. In your face!”
“A straight flush? Like a real, real one?”
“All skill, baby.”
He slouched forward and his hands were all over me. I didn’t even have a chance to acclimate, to think things over, to deliberate. He gave me several hot, wet, sloppy, dragging kisses that cleared my mind of all thought. My body relaxed and responded to his insistent ministrations. As he worked on his trousers I tugged at his shirt to uplift the tail from the loop of his trousers. Working, in turn, on the shirt buttons, I saw red lipstick smeared like a treacherous stain on one of the cuffs, marring it for good. Panic welled up in me, and my eyes burned with tears while a thousand blips from Claudia and Alexander’s sweaty bodies entangled and sated bombarded me.
“No, please,” I let out a feeble wail, as if my vocal threads had been ripped. I tried to turn away, but Alexander grabbed hold of my waist and twisted me around to face him. “It was Claudia, wasn’t it?” I sagged, allowing myself to go limp. I was a rag doll, felt like someone had suctioned out my bones. I would have collapsed onto the floor if not for the cheating bastard holding me. “How could you, Alex? How could you do this to us?”
“It hacked me off when she tried to kiss me. I unthinkingly pushed her mouth away.” He released me, dug his elbows in his chest, and grasped his head. Dark, thick hair flopped forward. “God help me. You weren’t meant to find out I’d proposed to her, that’s all. You must believe me, you must.” I lowered myself into his lap and he wrapped himself around me. “She has access to the world’s most prestigious poker room. It belongs to her husband.”
I didn’t care; I wanted his touch everywhere. I needed his mouth on mine. As if he’d read my mind, he began working on a passionate kiss.
I dropped to my knees and made sure to look up at him as I unzipped his fly. “I want you.”
He gasped while I stroked him. “So pretty and pink and,” he kissed my shoulder, “it smells too clean.”
“Kiss me,” I murmured.
He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but then he just slanted his hot mouth across mine. Whiskers of a five o’clock shadow roughly chafed my face as he kissed me with an almost desperate passion. His mouth kept smothering mine, making pleasure spiral through me.
My eyes drifted shut, opening wide as soon as he ended the kiss.
“Give me head, Elena.”
Shyly, I took the tip of his penis between my lips, and watched his neck move as he swallowed. He rested his hands on my shoulders, bent his head to watch me, and I saw his eyes crinkle in that pleasurable way. Because he’d spent time with Claudia, I felt like being an unbearable bitch. I denied him the wet heat of my mouth and just flicked the tip of my tongue against his cock-head. He grew tired of my torment fast, and since he was the dominant when it came right down to it, he hauled me back up and pushed down the straps of my chantilly satin slip so hard I heard them snap.
I glanced up at him. As per usual, the sight of him unclothed made my breath catch in my throat. Sex was the only way to get through to him, and like every other touchstone moment, he spanked me. His touch first came down like Thor’s hammer, and it always ended with feathery caresses. His hands tracked upward, his palms soothing the soreness across my trembling behind. Instead of being mortified, I watched him exploit me. A finger audaciously pushed inside me, moving in and out. Another joined it, then one more. He fucked me like this for a while, looking like he was enjoying the instinctive rocking of my hips and the sounds I made.
“All mine.” Harshly, he sucked my nipple into his mouth. The sponginess of his massive, wet, warm cock pushed against my thigh, blindly seeking entrance.
“Did you fuck Claudia?”
His hand went to my throat. “Fuck you, Elena.” He said this in a low growl, as if sounding furious, the familiar sound sending heat swirling between my legs.
“Do it.”
He relaxed visibly and flashed a smile. “I can’t help it, I fucking love you.” His voice was heavy with lust, his breath hot against my throat. “I feel like I sullied you. Like I don’t deserve you. I’m a bad man, Elena.”
“Stop talking,” I urged. I felt his cock pressing into the soft flesh of my inner thigh, just outside the entrance to the most intimate part of my body. I grasped it in my right hand, guiding it toward my aching sex.
Then his lips were on mine. He kissed me and began to move, sliding in and out faster as my core grew wetter when pleasure curled low in my belly. It was primal, dirty, and rough. I clung to his shoulders as though I were drowning, and moaned each time his cock drove into me. His long fingers kneaded my hips so roughly I s
uspected I’d find ugly bruises the next morning. Somehow my mind convinced my body that it couldn’t live without this foul, degrading pleasure. If this pleasure withered away, I’d have nothing left, so I had to relish every moment and seize every opportunity to receive it. Nothing mattered except the happiness I felt every time this man possessed me in ways no other man ever had.
Drunk or angry, Alexander never let up, never slowed down, his pace fast and determined. With pounding thrusts, he rutted me like an animal, slapping his hips against mine, making me moan with coiled frustration. The sounds of his desperate, guttural grunting made me wilder and I clawed his ass, pushing him deeper.
“Do it!” I keened, grinding myself into him.
“Be quiet,” he said in a tone that shut me right up.
For a moment, I was nonplussed, and my fingers squeezed into his biceps. He fucked me harder and I succumbed entirely to the way his cock felt inside me. Warm. Thick. Hard. Several things heightened my pleasure; the sensation of his sweaty skin frantically rubbing against mine, his heavy, muscular chest providing tortuous friction for my nipples, the taste of salt on his skin.
“That’s it, Ariel,” he muttered thickly, “take me in all the way.”
“Kiss me, Eric,” my breath twisted in a breathy moan.
He pressed his lips to my throat and licked up a line. As he lustily nibbled on my ear, my hips moved faster against his and he let out a loud groan that told me he was close. I could tell he was losing his detachment, and looking up into his face, I saw that the reserve of iffiness had been wiped from his features, washed away by his rising dominance. I reached up, grasping him about the nape of his neck with one hand, and pulled his mouth down to mine. He groaned into my mouth, his speed increasing. I felt his body tense against mine, the contrast delicious, hard against soft, giver against claimer. His kisses became tender now, still passionate but softer, lingering.
“I’m going to,” was all I got out before I started contracting around his cock.