Candid Confessions Bundle #3 (16 page)

I had picked up the latest edition of Cosmopolitan,
and was just getting into a juicy article on ‘Seven Sex Positions
You Have Never Tried Before’ (as if!) when I heard Brad’s silky
voice beside me.

‘Doing a little more research on our topic, I see,’
he said, with a cheeky grin on his face.

‘Oh, er no…I was just browsing,’ I said, slamming
the magazine closed and trying not to turn as red as a
beetroot.

Brad laughed and beckoned me to follow him, pausing
only to ask the receptionist to bring us coffee. I followed his
broad shoulders down a corridor that was also lined in the same
plush, red carpet. At the end, double doors opened into a stunning
office. It was big, but not ostentatiously huge, and the furniture
was good quality, but not over the top. What made it truly
stunning, though, was the view. The whole of one wall was pure
glass, with a vista that looked out across the center of Sydney to
the harbour. Not a bad view to have from your desk – the bridge,
the opera house and all the beauty of Sydney beyond.

Brad invited me to sit with him in an informal
seating area adjacent to his desk – just four comfortable chairs
and a low table. The pretty brunette arrived with the coffee a
moment later, and I couldn’t help wondering if Brad had had sex
with her. From the way she looked at him, I bet she would have been
up for it. But she would probably have to join the queue with
everyone else. Including me. I wondered about the possibility of a
threesome…me, her and Brad…right there in his expensive office.
After all, she had a cute ass that I wouldn’t mind checking out
more closely. I liked the idea, but I kept it to myself. When she
had gone, I thanked Brad for the roses, and he accepted my thanks
graciously, but then it was straight down to business.

‘I read the first draft of the articles that you
sent this morning,’ he said. ‘We have some great material to work
with in there. I suggest that I add my comments as a professional
advisor, then we can put together a really useful and informative
package of material.’

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘What did you make of Thomasin and
Ellen? Would you say they qualify as sex addicts?’

‘Good question…and one that is hard to answer. There
is a fine line between what is normal and what is not normal in
terms of sexual behavior. In fact, you can question whether the
word ‘normal’ applies at all. If the person in question is
comfortable with their behavior, then who are we to call them
addicts? I certainly wouldn’t call either of these two extreme in
their lifestyle choice.’

Then I had an idea, and I knew it was a bad one
before I had even opened my mouth. But my mouth has a mind of its
own, and I heard the words coming out anyway.

‘As I told you before, I have a friend – or rather a
friend of a friend – who might well qualify in the extreme
department. She just loves sex, and gets as much of it as she can.
She puts these two in the shade. She won’t want to be involved in
this article, but I am sure you would find her interesting. We
could tell her story.’

I’m sure you’ve worked out that there wasn’t any
such friend – I was talking about myself. But of course, I didn’t
want Brad to know that. He looked at me quizzically. ‘I see. So how
does she behave – what do you call extreme, exactly?’

‘Well, for example, she told me that one night, she
picked up two English rugby players in a bar, took them home and
had sex with both of them. And it’s not the first time she has done
something like that. I guess you might call her a man eater.’

‘Interesting.’ Brad leaned back in his chair and
took a sip of coffee. ‘She is probably seeking validation.’

Validation? No, I was just seeking dick. Where did
validation come into it?

‘And she finds this kind of casual sex
satisfying?’

‘She certainly isn’t complaining,’ I said, ‘She just
wants to make the most of life while she is still young. She says
that life is too short to get stuck with just one guy, and you
should have fun with as many of the fish in the sea as you
can.’

‘Does she practice safe sex?’

‘Always,’ I said, telling the truth for once. I may
not have mentioned it before, but I always ensure that my gifts are
wrapped before I start enjoying them, if you get my drift. I want
to have fun, but I want to stay healthy, too.

‘That’s the important thing. There is nothing wrong
with enjoying a little variety in life, as long as you take the
right precautions. The question is, is she happy with her
life?’

Brad had pressed a hot button. I tensed up inside,
and tried not to blush. The last thing I wanted was to give the
game away and reveal who my ‘friend’ really was. But was I happy?
Or was I missing out on what life really had to offer? A real,
loving relationship with one man? The prospect of being tied to one
person for ever had always scared me…but now it was becoming more
attractive. None of the guys I had humped in a hurry had ever sent
me a bunch of red roses. Maybe there were more roses where they
came from. I looked around me at the expensive office that screamed
success, money and power. Brad had built all this for himself. He
was a self-made man. If a woman wanted a stable partner who was a
good provider and a caring lover, Brad would be a very strong
contender.

Surely that meant more than being born with a cute
face and tight butt, like most of the guys I worked through. Then
again, he had a cute face and tight butt as well. Maybe you could
have your cake and eat it, too.

We discussed my imaginary ‘friend’ a little more.
The more we talked, the more uncomfortable I felt about my life.
And the better I got to know Brad, the more I felt I had blown the
opportunity to have a real relationship for once in my life.

Eventually, we wrapped things up, and it was time
for me to leave. I expected Brad to stay in his office, but he
insisted on escorting me not just to the elevator, but down to the
ground floor and then through the revolving doors into the busy
street beyond. He hailed a taxi, which pulled over sharply and
stopped in front of us. Brad opened the door for me – heck, when
did a guy last open a door for me? Like never, I think. I turned to
say goodbye to Brad, but before a word escaped my mouth, he grabbed
me by the waist and pulled me towards him, his mouth coming down to
meet mine in a firm and passionate kiss.

I felt myself responding equally passionately,
enjoying his hot breath on my face, his firm hands on my waist and
my buttocks. I wanted to press myself harder against him, enjoying
every inch of his male flesh. Then he pulled away and looked me in
the eye.

‘Dinner at eight,’ he said. It was more of a command
than a question. ‘I’ll pick you up.’

***

So I bet you think we
went to some fancy restaurant? Well, that was what I was expecting,
but it turns out that Brad had other plans. At eight thirty, I
found myself in Brad’s home, a penthouse apartment overlooking the
North shore that put even his office views to shame. The apartment
was large, but not extravagant, and tastefully furnished in a
modern, hi-tech kind of way. Everything was neat and tidy, but
there was something missing that I couldn’t quite put a finger on
at first. Then I realized it needed a woman’s touch. The tone of
the place was undeniably masculine, efficient and organized, but
lacking the splash of color and style that a woman would bring to
the home. In other words, it was clearly a bachelor pad. That
suited me...I didn’t have to worry about some angry wife turning up
at an inconvenient moment (and yes, that has happened to me before,
too. See Episode #7).

Brad had switched his formal suit for an open-necked
shirt and grey pants that looked expensive in a casual kind of way.
Being a doctor, I guessed he took his health seriously and worked
out. Certainly, there was plenty of muscle definition to admire
beneath the shirt. Brains
and
brawn…a great combination.

But as macho as Brad clearly was, it seemed he was
able to tune into his feminine side a little. The kitchen was full
of the smell of good food cooking, and when I asked, I was
surprised to learn that Brad had cooked it himself. We shared a
glass of wine, and then sat down to eat at the dining table. He was
the perfect gentleman throughout, attending to my every need as if
we were on our honeymoon. It was a very pleasant evening, and by
the time we had finished the meal, I was feeling very relaxed and
happy. Good food and good company – a great combination.

After dinner, Brad suggested a walk on the beach.
That sounded good to me, and a few minutes later, we were strolling
along the sand under the starry sky. It was a warm evening, but we
had the beach pretty much to ourselves, apart from one elderly gent
walking his dog a little way ahead. There was a little moonlight,
plus the lights from the beachside cafes and bars. The sound of
laughter reached us from one of the bars, but mostly the sound was
that of the surf, rolling relentlessly on the sands of the
shoreline. We were walking barefoot, our shoes left behind at the
top of the beach. As the waves rushed in, they curled around my
toes, the water cold but invigorating.

For the moment, the serious and professional Brad
was gone, and instead I saw the fun-loving side of him once
more…the side that had got me into trouble at 14,000 feet just a
few days ago. I was glad that I had done that jump now. It was an
achievement that I would never forget. And more importantly, it had
dragged me screaming – literally – into Brad’s dynamic and
dangerous world.

Fortunately, everything seemed safer here on the
beach. No light aircraft threatening to whisk us high into the air
and then throw us into space. Not that I would have minded too
much, as long as Brad was attached to me all the way down. As we
walked along the beach, he reached for my hand, and we splashed
together through the surf, soaking his pants and my dress, but
neither of us minding a bit. We were having fun.

We walked the length of the beach and back again,
sharing stories about our lives, our hopes and our dreams. By the
time we got back to Brad’s apartment block, I felt we knew each
other a whole lot better. The concierge in the reception area
frowned at our wet clothes, and the sand that we dragged into his
beautifully-cleaned building, but Brad and I were both smiling. We
got into the elevator, and the doors closed behind us. Brad hit the
button for his floor, and as soon as the elevator started moving,
he turned and pulled me towards him once more. We kissed
passionately, our bodies pressed together urgently. I felt his
hands on my buttocks, grabbing me and holding me tight, while his
tongue probed inside my mouth. I didn’t want the ride to stop…I
could have stayed right there, going up and down in the elevator
all night. I was getting really turned on. I didn’t want this
evening to end with nothing more than a bunch of roses. I hoped
Brad had a similar point of view on the subject.

A moment later, we were inside his apartment, and I
found out immediately what Brad had planned. He lifted me off my
feet, and carried me down a corridor to the main bedroom. He took
me over to the King-sized bed and laid me on it. As we entered the
room, soft lights around the bed came on automatically…very
neat.

‘I was wondering what your friend of a friend would
do if she was here,’ he whispered.

If only you knew!
I thought.

‘Well, I think she would be delighted to find
herself alone with a very hot and very sexy man,’ I said. ‘She
would definitely make the most of the opportunity. She certainly
wouldn’t let him get away.’

I pulled Brad nearer and kissed him again, now with
his weight pressing down on me. The scent of his expensive cologne
blended with my not-so-expensive perfume, and my lips blended with
his.

I found myself wanting Brad in a way that was
unfamiliar to me. It wasn’t just physical…I felt there was
something more between us. Something more real, more visceral.
Sure, I was enjoying the hard, toned feel of his muscles, the
generous width of his shoulders, and the tightness of his
well-worked abs. Even the sound of his low, rich voice turned me
on. Heck, I would have to have been a raving lesbian not too feel
pure physical desire for such a magnificent specimen of manhood.
But somehow, there was more beneath the surface. I wanted the man
inside, the real Brad. And I wanted him now.

We kissed energetically, the taste of his lips
sending me to new heights of arousal. After a few minutes of this,
I was ready to take things a whole lot further, and judging by the
swelling in Brad’s pants that pressed against my thighs, so was he.
I rolled him onto his back and slid on top of him, running my hands
down his chest and feeling the strength of his torso. Brad slipped
his hands under my dress and pulled it expertly over my head. He
looked lovingly at my semi-naked body. On the way home from the
office, I had blown the last of my savings in a Victoria’s Secret
kind of store, and if I say so myself, I looked pretty hot in my
pink, sexy lingerie. I could tell that Brad thought so, too. He ran
his fingers along my thighs, up my body to my breasts, cupping them
in his hands. I moaned softly as he massaged them through my bra,
feeling my nipples harden moment by moment. He reached behind my
back and unclasped my bra, then pulled it over my head. My breasts
bounced free and I felt the swell in his pants rise a little more
as he took them in.

I’ve already told you that my breasts are my best
features, so I won’t pretend to be modest. The truth is, I have an
awesome pair of tits, full, firm and 100% natural. I am so glad
Mother Nature blessed me with them, because they always have an
electric effect on men, and the cool and sophisticated Brad was no
exception. He lay there for a while, kind of mesmerized, taking
them both in. Then he pulled me towards him, lowering my breasts
towards his mouth. He sucked first one breast, taking the nipple in
his mouth and licking gently, and then the other. God, it felt
good. I could feel the rising warmth of sexual arousal within me,
my panties already wet from the stimulation.