Misadventures with a Book Boyfriend

by Blue, Victoria

  “You’re so responsive. So eager.” Touching her could be habit-forming. So silky, so smooth.

  “Put your mouth on me. Please. I’m begging you.”

  “Why the rush, sugar?” A weaker man would’ve been balls deep already.

  “I need to feel you. Need to know if this is real.” She raked her fingernails through my hair, igniting the nerve endings in my scalp.

  “Oh, it’s very real.” I wanted to find the bastard who’d neglected this beautiful creature and given her this worrisome complex and beat the living shit out of him.

  The next fifteen minutes were spent lavishing her pussy with attention. Minding her breathing and body’s undulations, I discovered what she liked and what she loved. I took her right to the edge and then brought her back. Her frustrated cries throbbed through my cock in time with my heartbeat. When the knuckles of her clenched fists in the sheets were ghost white, I put the finishing moves on her and sent her spiraling into an epic orgasm. The wet spot beneath her quivering ass was my personal medal of honor.

  “You doing okay?” I asked once her breathing settled down and she opened her eyes. The grin that spread across her lips gave me the answer I needed, but I wanted to hear the words too.

  Her voice was husky and sexy from just having moaned through her pleasure. “Oh, I’m doing better than okay. I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but I don’t remember the last time I had an orgasm.”

  I gathered her into my arms and held her there quietly while her breathing settled and her body relaxed again. My own mind had trouble centering while I took in every perfect detail of the woman. Her skin was silky and smooth as I ran my fingers back and forth across her shoulders before threading them through the long strands of her dark hair. It had been so long since I just lay with a woman in my arms and simply enjoyed the nuances of her femininity.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Melanie tugged on my arm to get my attention.

  “Huh? I’m so sorry. I was lost in my own thoughts.” I kissed the top of her head.

  She smiled. “I see that. Care to share?”

  “It’s probably not that interesting.” Damn, her hair smelled good. Some sort of sexy herb, maybe lavender.

  “I don’t know.” She raised one eyebrow and grinned. “You seem pretty creative.”

  “Is that right?” I liked where this was headed. Maybe I’d get to feel inside that sweet pussy after all.

  She stretched up and kissed me, and I was all too happy to kiss her back. My cock, left unsatisfied, twitched immediately in response. She giggled in the middle of our kiss when my dick poked into her stomach.

  “I think there’s something that needs to be taken care of,” Melanie whispered.

  She wrapped her slender fingers around my shaft and squeezed. I let my eyes fall closed and flared my nostrils wide while inhaling deeper. Her musk flooded my senses and made my cock harder instantly.

  “I can get on board with that plan. Scoot over here a little bit. You don’t want to be in that wet spot.” I moved farther toward the center of the bed so she would be more comfortable.

  “Oh! Such a gentleman.” She scooted beneath me, lying flat on her back.

  I bit into her shoulder at the spot I had been kissing. “Let’s not get carried away.” I ran my hands across her breasts, thumbing her nipples as they peaked from the attention. “Your body is so responsive. How do you not have someone to enjoy this? I’d have my hands all over you all the time.” I leaned down and sucked the flesh on the underside of one of her breasts between my lips, knowing the area was typically very sensitive.

  “It wasn’t always this way,” she answered.

  “I apologize. I shouldn’t be asking personal questions.” Making out was the best way to end this conversation and move on to better thoughts, like what those soft, plush lips would feel like wrapped around the head of my cock. I moved my hands over every peak and valley of her body again until I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.

  Her pussy was nice and slick from her orgasm and our make-out sesh. Fisting my erection, I ran the head through the moisture several times before lining up at her entrance. When I started to press forward, I met with more resistance than I expected, and I had to slow down so I wouldn’t hurt her.

  “I told you it’s been a while.” Her whispered voice tickled my neck.

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry. You feel so good, Melanie. So good.”

  She spread her legs wider and lifted them higher so her calves were level with my shoulders. I took her cue and quickly ducked my shoulders under her legs and jacked her ass up off the bed. At that angle, I could drive deeper into her in one smooth motion. She cried out first in surprise and then ecstasy.

  “Oh my God, Oliver!”

  “I know, baby. Hold on. It’s just getting good.”

  I slid in and out of her a few more times at a slow pace, concentrating on how her face twisted in pleasure when I bottomed out against her clit. I made sure to repeat the exact same motion every time. By about the fifth repetition, she was digging her fingernails into my forearms, chanting my name like I was a god on Mount Olympus.

  “Can you come again?”

  “Somehow, I think yes,” she said in between pants.

  “What do you mean somehow?” I said with a cocky grin.

  “It’s just never happened before. Twice in one night.” The staccato delivery of her sentence made me chuckle.

  “Well, then, tonight’s your lucky night.” With that I smacked against her clit with the pads of my fingers and then rubbed my thumb in firm circles on top of the overly sensitized button while I sped up the pace of my strokes.

  Sweat was starting to form on my brow, and my balls felt like they were about to burst because they were so tight against my body.

  “Melanie, I need to come—are you ready?” Now my disjointed speech matched hers.

  “Yes! God, yes! So close! Just keep going. Keep doing what you’re doing.” If we had neighbors in the room next door, they had no doubt we were on the final leg of this relay.

  A few more strokes and it was done for me. Warm semen filled the condom as I felt her channel constrict on my shaft. Her high-pitched wailing confirmed what I felt, and her incoherent words made me smile like a second-time Grand Prix winner.

  We collapsed to the bed, and I rolled to her side so I wouldn’t crush her beneath me. I snaked my arm around her waist and pulled her against me. Nothing beat postcoital cuddling in my book, but I could feel her instantly pulling away.

  “Hey? What’s wrong?” I was already talking to her naked back.

  “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. That was fantastic.” She twisted to peck me quickly. She got out of bed and gathered her clothing from where I had set it on the chair.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to leave. I said I’d only be out until midnight. It’s already eleven.”

  I hadn’t even thought of that. The possibility that she wouldn’t want to spend the entire night together hadn’t crossed my mind.

  “Can I just leave the money here on the table? Is that okay? I know we talked about PayPal in our email, but I’d rather not have the paper trail, if that’s okay? It could get awkward.” She made a wrinkled face like she just ate something sour.

  “Sure.” I wrinkled my face in kind. Sour barely cut it.

  She went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I was left staring at the dark panel, expecting…what? Answers to run across the door like movie credits rolled across the screen after everyone got up and left the theater?

  I felt so awkward. Usually I was the one trying to find my clothes and sneak out before the woman woke up. Instead, I wanted to pull the covers up and shield myself from the vulnerability I felt all of a sudden. Why was I acting like this? A quick look under the covers proved I still had a dick, even though I was acting like a total pussy. But I felt used. And cheap. And the worst part? This was my idea. The whole thing was my idea.

 
Chapter Five

  It turned out twelve-hundred dollars made feeling like a bitch go away pretty quickly. My second date was with a woman named Lenor. She fancied a particular mafia boss character who was epic to impersonate. She texted me the next morning and asked if it would be okay if she gave my number to some of her friends in her tennis club. Apparently there were a lot of women around Los Angeles who were fed up with the dating scene, and she thought I could make them feel pretty special too. Even if for one night.

  Unfortunately, the woman I really wanted to hear back from, Melanie, disappeared from my life as quickly as she had appeared.

  Word of mouth turned out to be a way better marketing strategy than anything I could’ve come up with myself. By the end of the second week, I had been on four dates and had over five thousand dollars in cash hidden in a shoe box in my closet. Cash was the preferred method of payment by far. No bank records, no credit card receipts, no history. In other words—no proof.

  Friday night came, and I purposefully scheduled my date for a little later in the evening so I could spend some time with Skye when she got home from work. I had a nice bottle of Chardonnay chilling when she walked in the door, looking like she needed something stronger.

  “Whoa, kiddo.” I handed her a glass. “On second thought, maybe I should just get you the bottle.”

  “That’s not a bad idea after the day I’ve had.” She kicked off her pumps and took the glass I offered.

  “What’s going on? Is it something you can talk about?”

  “You know I tell you everything. Even the stuff I’m not supposed to. I just don’t want to get into it again. Let’s just say I will be so happy when this election is over. You think Hardin is a rat?” A long pause while she drained half the glass. “The other guy the mayor is considering? Michaelson? He makes Hardin look like a Boy Scout. This race is getting so dirty. Soon they’re going to be digging stuff up on me.”

  Chardonnay went down the wrong pipe in my throat, and I sputtered and choked. As selfish as it was, my best friend vented about her day, and all I could think about was myself. If anyone looked into Skye’s background, they would discover things about me too. She and I had been inseparable for at least eight years. I would never forgive myself if my poor judgment hurt her career. In any way at all. And, if I was being completely honest with myself, if I had any shred of hope of saving my modeling career, all bets would be off if the press caught wind that the once unstoppable Oliver Connely had resorted to selling himself to horny housewives in order to pay the rent.

  “You okay, Ollie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She was literally the only person who got to call me that name. My heart warmed while color hopefully returned to my face.

  I drained my glass and quickly refilled it. I topped hers off too while I had the bottle in my hand. This was going to be one of the worst conversations we had ever had, and some liquid fortitude would hopefully make it easier. If things were really heating up at her office, I had to tell her about my current moneymaking activities before someone else did it for me. Maybe if I showed her the cash I had on hand, she would be dazzled by the Benjis and the how wouldn’t be as important as the how much.

  Oh Christ. Who was I kidding? This was Skye Delaney we were talking about. My best friend of all time. Dana-Do-Right. Captain Morality. Savior of all things that were just and fair. Able to list the Bill of Rights—by memory—at age ten. If she hadn’t majored in constitutional law, she would’ve been a perfect choice for the next civil rights movement figurehead.

  Regardless, I needed to man up and tell her what I was up to.

  “Where are you going?” she asked when I suddenly sprang up and headed toward my room.

  “One sec. I need to show you something.” I came back with the huge wad of cash I had stashed in my closet. Roughly five thousand dollars. Mostly hundreds, some twenties, and a few lowly tens on the bottom from when I had to pay various cab drivers.

  “Jesus, Oliver. Why do you have all that cash lying around? Better question, where did all that cash come from?” She volleyed her stare from the pile of money now fanned out on the breakfast bar to me and then back again while waiting for me to explain.

  “I’ve been working a new job. I wanted to pay you back for my half of the rent from last month and pay the entire rent myself this month. To make up for all the times you covered for me.” Hopefully the do-right bullshit worked for a guy like me too.

  “You know that isn’t necessary.” She leaned over and eyed the stack of bills from a different angle. “And by the looks of it, that will more than cover it. Since when does Harrison pay you in cash?”

  “This didn’t come from modeling.” No sense beating around the bush.

  “Okaaaayyy. Are you going to make me guess what’s going on here, or are you just going to tell me?”

  This was it. My turn at bat. Steppin’ up to the plate. Called up to the big show…

  “I’ve been doing some…” Shit, the expectant look on her face made spilling the beans so much harder than I’d estimated. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”

  “Start from the beginning. That usually works.” Her patience was already wearing thin. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to tell her.

  No. It was now or never. Her career could be in jeopardy because of me if someone else found out before I told her. Maybe a personal example—something she could relate to—would help.

  “You know those books you like to read? With the hot guys on the covers? Looking all beefy and brooding? Typically shirtless?”

  She laughed but shook her head. “Yeah, I guess. Oh my God, Oliver! Did you do a cover shoot? For who? Do I know the author? Who is it? Wow, so exciting. Wait, no…you said you didn’t get this cash modeling.”

  Damn it, why didn’t I think of that angle? She was actually excited about the prospect. What did those gigs pay?

  When I held up my hand so I could get a word in, she stopped long enough to let me explain. “So, one day, I was at the pool—it was the first day I met Janine, actually. She was talking with a bunch of her friends, and they were going on and on about a book they were reading. But mostly they were talking about the main character. They were calling the dude their book boyfriend. It was the day I lost the Lagerfeld job.”

  “Damn Lagerfeld,” we both mumbled under our breaths in unison while draining our glasses a second time.

  I shook my head to get back to the real issue. “I’m serious.”

  “I know you are. So am I. I hate that freak.”

  “Anyway, the women were going crazy about this guy, how they all would love to get busy with him and so on. And it gave me an idea.” I was getting amped up all over again, just like I did the day I thought of this idea. My voice gained volume, and I stood up from the barstool and started to pace, my animation adding wattage to the conversation.

  “Oh God, Oliver.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m not sure I want to hear this. Thinking of Janine getting busy with anyone kind of squeebs me out, you know? Wait. Oh no. Oliver. Oliver…what are you saying? What are you doing with those women?” She peeked out between her fingers and squeaked. “Oliver? Did you sleep with Janine for money?”

  “Let me explain.” I quickly laid out the original idea, how I placed the ad online, booked a week of dates in the span of one hour, and what was really going on when she found me on the floor with Janine that evening after work. I spoke quickly, trying to explain why the idea was a great one, feeling like I was on trial and also feeling like I was failing miserably at convincing her to see things my way.

  “I’m making women happy, Skye. I would think you’d be proud of me for that. There aren’t enough nights in the week to answer all the requests.”

  “Proud?” Skye was staring at me in disbelief. “You think I’d be proud you’re whoring yourself out to desperate housewives?”

  I looked at her incredulously. I leaned a hip against the back of the sofa and thought about what she was saying. “Well, n
ot really. No. I don’t see it that way at all, actually.”

  “Which part do I have wrong?” she snapped.

  “For starters, I wouldn’t say any of these women have been desperate. Not one.” I dug my bare toes in and out of the weave of the carpet, trying to think of a better way to explain what I’d been doing for the past week.

  “Oh my God, Oliver! Do you hear yourself?” Skye’s voice was close to a screech.

  “Don’t be upset. I mean, Skye. Look at the money I’m making.” I scooped up the money off the counter and fanned the cash out in front of her again.

  “You’re a prostitute! Oliver, for fuck’s sake! A hooker! Really? You do know that is illegal in the state of California? You know that, right? You could be arrested. Prison, Oliver. Can you imagine what happens to a guy who looks like you in fucking prison?” Her face was beet red by the end of her diatribe, and spittle had collected at the corners of her mouth. There was a solid chance I’d never seen her that mad.

  I leveled my voice, hoping hers would instinctively mirror mine. “Skye, you need to calm down. You aren’t thinking about this rationally.”

  “Rationally? You mean there’s a rational side to this? Oh…I can’t wait to hear it.”

  “I’m not doing anything illegal. Nothing is agreed to ahead of time. I take a woman out on a date. That’s it. If something else happens, that’s something that just happens.” Shrugging, I implied it was no big deal. “It’s not what they are looking for in the beginning. It’s not what the advertisement is for or even suggests. Believe me—I thought of everything.” I couldn’t help but still feel proud of the idea from a business standpoint. It was solid, and I was making money hand over fist. There was no denying it when I stood there with a wad of cash the size of a baseball.

  “Everything? Really? Did you think of what this would do to me, Oliver? If the wrong person found out? No, wait. Let me rephrase that. When the wrong person finds out? Because they always find out, Oliver. Always. This was the most selfish, idiotic, thoughtless, reckless thing I think you’ve ever done.” She chuckled sardonically. “And we both know you’ve pulled some doozies. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for this one, my friend.”