I was full of desire and had been begging to be taken since
the day I had plans with Derek. Considering how that turned
out and how the days following sucked so much worse, I needed
to seriously be ravaged now, more than ever. The thought
made me swallow hard as I let out a breath.
As the steam rose from the shower, my body began to sweat.
Slowly removing the thong, I stepped lightly into the hot, steamy
water and stood in the center. With all the jets and showerhead
on, I was covered with water from head to toe, with one exception.
My sex was not getting what it needed; it had been ignored
for far too long. My body was consoled by the heat and the warm
water, but this wouldn’t satisfy my true needs. I couldn’t remember
the last time I truly yearned for sex this badly.
The shower seat was built big enough for comfort and for
me to get comfortable on. I positioned myself in the center
and then propped my legs up, one on each side of the shower
seat. Unhooking one of the showerheads, I lowered it onto my
shoulder and let the massaging water go onto my neck and
over each supple breast. Holding the head with one hand, the
water ran over my breasts and onto my stomach. Motioning
slowly, I moved my free hand down on my stomach and over
my pubic bone.
I was meticulous about waxing on time, so there was utter
smoothness all around, above, in, and under my sex.
Thank God for Brazilian waxing!
As the water ran over my fingers, I massaged my inner
thigh and up around the outside of my now throbbing sex. I
had to calm this urge, or I would fuck the first decent man I
met. Masturbation wasn’t a big deal; it also wasn’t overly exciting.
But sometimes a girl has got to go into the field to win the
battle. I was sure to get the orgasm I needed but not the “fucking”
I so desperately wanted.
And sometimes, the fucking was worth more than the orgasm
itself.
I lowered the showerhead and with my free hand spread the
lips that were covering my sex. Now the warmth of the water
was pulsating right at my center, perfect! Throwing my head
back and closing my eyes, I waited and welcomed a release.
I was faced with flashing images that came to me as my
eyes shut out the light: all of Alexander! Taking note that it
was the first time I had thought of him on a first-name basis,
which felt very personal, I tried not to panic. I didn’t open my
eyes to stop it. I just stared as I had when we were closed in my
office together.
Except the performance was different than it was in person.
I felt the control over him. I knew in this daydream that I was
in fact the boss and he was the one who was anxious. This was
comfort. Nice role reversal, I thought as I saw myself pinning his
hands down and grinding into him.
This is who I am, the woman who can have soft, gentle
sex with a man and then flip him over and ride him like a
bull. It was perfect. I could smell the Burberry cologne, and
the thought made my clit harden. I could tell the moment it
happened. I adjusted my leg wider as the water’s pulse hit the
exact spot, dreaming it was Alexander.
The vision was sweet, vivid, and exactly what I needed.
I refused to start questioning the “why him” right now. I
just knew that he was doing to me, part of what I needed him
to do to, via the shower head of course.
The pulse seemed to get stronger and the water hotter as I
envisioned myself undressing him in the office. I stroked every
muscle on his defined chest, and it was smooth, sweet smelling,
and every bit toned. I softly moaned through the emptiness
of my bath, as my whole body felt the spasms reaching my
orgasm. The very thought of just touching him got me where
I wanted.
God, imagine if I was thinking of fucking him, I thought.
Multiple O’s!
It didn’t give me exactly what I needed and wanted, but it
took the edge off. Feeling a bit more relaxed, I finished washing
myself and got out of the shower.
It never really made sense to me why masturbation was so
taboo. After all, if a woman isn’t comfortable with her own
body, how can anyone else be?
Opening the double doors to the massive closet, I felt delighted.
Clothes and dressing up gave me enjoyment. I took
pleasure in it. And when I dressed to impress, I didn’t hold
back, regardless of whether the outfit was for going out or ripping
off. Tonight was going to be my night, and I was going to
enjoy every minute of it. The last two days were going to fade
away into a memory.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Stepping out in front of the house, I took a deep breath. The air
was warm, and it was still a little light out. I adore the summer
months: the longer days, more hours of sunlight. I could bask
in the sun for days at a time, had I made the time to do so. It
warmed me from the inside out.
My phone vibrated in my clutch. It was Samantha. The text
read:
BE THERE IN 5. GET READY BABE…PARTY TIME!
The smell of the ocean waters swirled in the air, carried by
the light winds. I left my hair down, as the softness against my
skin and the length down my back gave me a feeling of sexy
and sensual. The wind blew my hair to the sides revealing my
skin.
Wearing a halter, my back was almost completely bare, as
the cut went down to the small of my back, clasped by a small
brooch. My D-cup breasts fit just a little snug in the front dip
of the shirt, but it was perfect for tonight’s purpose. The girls
were pretty and perky.
Deciding to show lots of skin on top, I went with studded
midnight-black skinny jeans embellished with rips near
my thighs and underneath my butt cheeks. I never got to dress
like this. My career and business dinners, drinks, and meetings
always required me to be prim and proper, and that I was always
perfect at. But, my perfection extended through my wild
side as well, and that’s where the fun was—no one expected it.
I love the power I hold as a woman in the boardroom and as
a girl on the town. The way men and sometimes women react
toward me as I enter the room feeds my ego like oxygen to a fire.
A car turned onto my street. When getting a better view,
I noticed it was a cab. A pale blonde head poked out of the
backseat.
“There’s my girl. Come on, babe. Me and you tonight! Let
us away.” Samantha was geared up. Giggling like a schoolgirl,
I ran to the cab, hopped in the backseat, and off we went. It
would be about an hour trip in the cab, costly as hell but well
worth the hassle-free ride.
Samantha gave me a warm “welcome back” hug as I got in
the seat next to her. “I missed you, and I’m glad you’re OK. Oh,
by the way, I hope you don’t mind but I told Chrissy to meet us.
She was so excited to get to see the elusive Ms. Eva, I couldn’t
say no.” Samantha peered at me with puppy dog eyes, worried
that I would be mad.
She sighed with relief as I smiled and said, “What happened
to ‘me and you tonight’? That didn’t take long. No worries, I
miss the gang too. And though I was looking to maybe only have
a threesome tonight, I’ll work up my energy for the group sex.
What do they say? The more, the merrier, right?”
Laughing as I had not done in what seemed like forever, we
joked and giggled all the way to Manhattan.
“I promise,” said Samantha, “I won’t mention this again
at least for tonight, but it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t tell you
what I was thinking.”
Growing nervous, I waited expectantly for Samantha to
ask me anything about everything. “Go ahead. You get one
question, and not another until I decide to discuss it again,
agreed?”
Samantha sat up straight and smiled, accepting her one
gift. “Agreed. OK, so don’t get mad or freaked out, and please
be honest, because I might as well be your sister. When you
were alone with Mason in your office, before I came in, did
something happen…between the two of you?”
I hung my head, embarrassed. This was the one question I
hadn’t expected and didn’t want to answer.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But the two
of you looked the same shade of pale, and he practically ran to his
office. And then having his driver drive you an hour and a half
home, asking if you needed anything at all. It’s just strange. And
then I thought maybe something bad had happened. I just want
to make sure he didn’t upset or hurt you in any way.”
I looked up at her surprised. Here I thought Samantha
wanted the dirty dish on what had transpired behind my office
doors, but no, all along she was just checking on me. “Thanks,
love. But, no, he didn’t do anything to me.” Unfortunately, I
thought. “Truth is, I probably did a Tyson on his ego, and still
he was…Well, he was nice, I think. I don’t know. One thing I
do know is that I would shatter that boy. He looks like the doddering
husband type, and I’m nowhere near that continent.”
Samantha shook her head, She’s never going to change. When
chance’s path meant change, she pretends not to see it. “Are you serious?”
she said. “Eva, anyone who didn’t know you would think
that you came from some broken home or something. You have
an amazing family, one that some people would die for. Your
parents just celebrated their forty-third wedding anniversary.
Yet your perception of marriage and commitment is so far beyond
fucked-up, it’s almost inconceivable to believe you were
born to your parents. What is your deal? Take a chance. There’s
something there and you know it. And this chicken-shit wall
you put up is going to leave you alone and regretful. Mark my
words.”
I didn’t know how to respond to Samantha’s harsh but
somewhat true words, and that is why it was muting me. What
Samantha had said was the closest thing to the truth.
“I don’t regret anything, nor will I ever. And I adore the
family I have, you know that. But I look at my mother and I
know in her heart she must regret giving up her career in fashion
to have a husband and then a family. No one in their right
mind works their ass off to achieve success just to give it up.
And for what? Running a household, changing diapers, being a
soccer mom? And, maybe some women do it, for reasons I just
don’t get. But I, my dear, am not cut from that cloth. And just
as a side note to end this pleasant mood–killing conversation,
there is no path. Chance gave me one thing in thirty-two years:
it took to me to you outside of the building of PHI seven years
ago. Everything else is by my own merit, and no one will take
that from me. I’m not sacrificing anything if I’m doing what I
love. Now, conversation over. We should be there in a bit, and
the karma in here is toxic.”
Samantha dismissed the end result of our conversation, but I
could tell the words irked her. I turned to stare out the window of
the cab, looking over at the grandeur that Midtown Manhattan
offers at night. I swallowed my anger and focused on tonight.
Samantha and I entered Black’s Lounge and were comforted
by the familiar faces of those who worked there and frequented
the place. It felt like old times. Trying to push through the
crowd, I caught Samantha’s eyes peering ahead at a particular
and very handsome man.
At first I couldn’t understand the look or the “Oh my God,”
but as I went to get a better look at what had captured her attention,
I saw him…Alexander.
Shit! And the crap just keeps on coming! I couldn’t show
Samantha any reaction— negative or otherwise. And of course,
as fate would have it, he was standing in front of where we were
to be seated at the bar. The other man who was with him was
the eye candy that had Samantha under his spell. He was just
as dashing and GQ-like as Alexander. And obviously equally
fixated on Samantha. Samantha must have been too occupied to
notice Alexander, so she never motioned or mentioned it to me
as we proceeded.