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Authors: Jocelyn Michel

Private Showing

Ravenous Romance
www.ravenousromance.com

Copyright ©2011 by Jocelyn Michel

First published in 2011, 2011

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
Private Showing
A Ravenous RendezvousTM Original Publication
Jocelyn Michel
* * * *

A Ravenous RomanceTM Original Publication

www.ravenousromance.com
* * * *

Copyright (C) 2011 by Jocelyn Michel

Ravenous RomanceTM

100 Cummings Center

Suite 123A

Beverly, MA 01915

Edited by Russell Davis

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-417-4

This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

* * * *
Private Showing
Jocelyn Michel

I loved my job as buyer for the Cat Castle, a brothel located in good ol’ Nevada, the only savvy state in the United States. What did I buy? Sex gizmos. Toys, electronic devices, even furniture, all designed to provide pleasure to the persons who used them. I also invested in exotic lingerie, S&M aids, and fancy costumes. Tonight, I shopped at a fairly new manufacturer I'd read about on the Internet. My goal? Furnishing our brand new work-out room.

Wearing a modest black business suit—I never dressed the part of hooker even though I occasionally turned tricks on the side—I drove my Mercedes into the parking lot of a plain-looking building with Xtremes painted on the black awning. I parked in the spot reserved for customers, barely noticing the other vehicles there. After entering via the front door, I stepped into the sterile beige foyer where a woman who had to be someone's sweet little ol’ grandmother greeted me with a smile.

"Hello. I'm Lakota Rawlings. I have an appointment for a private showing."

"I'm Sandra Williams, the owner of Xtremes. We've been expecting you. Will you be looking at toys or our other products?"

"Toys...?"

"Dildos, vibrators, whips, chains—"

"None of that. I want equipment for our sexercise gym. The girls at the Castle love a good workout. The more outrageous and exotic, the better."

Mrs. Williams rubbed her hands together with obvious glee. “Excellent. Please follow me."

She led me right into the adjoining showroom, filled with indescribable sex furniture on one side and a tasteful couch, table, and oriental rug arrangement on the other. I heard a gurgling hot tub and took note of its unique phallic shape. I also eyed two closed doors, as well as some glass windows that lined one wall of the vast room. Looking out, I saw three men sitting at computers, another with a coffee pot in his hand, and one more standing at a work table, making something out of wood.

My gaze swept the first four, all of whom stared right back, then lingered on the guy wearing the tool belt, who didn't know I existed. Tall, dark, and V-framed, he had every physical attribute that turned me on, a rarity. Usually the guys I met had one or two at the most. As a result, I could barely drag my attention away from him and back to the owner, who, I assumed, waited to show me around.

"Our salesman will be here in a sec to demonstrate everything.” The woman pointed to the guy with the coffee, a burly guy with a shaved head and piercings. I mentally winced.

"Can
he
do it, instead?” I pointed to the tool man, who now had a hammer in his hand and still hadn't noticed me. Yeah, I should've known better. I mean, I'd come there on business, and he could be a deadly distraction. But he looked too yummy to be true.

"You mean Thorn Dawson? He's a designer, not a salesman."

"Tell me more."

"Well, he has degrees in Anatomy and Physiology, which makes him an expert at pleasure."

"I can imagine."

"Most of the products you see were designed
and
built by him."

"Wow."

"Shall I get Wayne for you?"

"Who?"

"Wayne, our salesman."

"Mrs. Williams, I plan to spend an insane amount of money in here tonight. May I pick my own salesman?"

Her greedy green eyes rounded. “I'm sure we can work something out. I'll just be a moment.” She darted out a door and into the work room. Deliberately standing in the open doorway, I heard her explain the situation and watched her summon the tool man. Thorn's jaw dropped. Frowning, he glanced over at me.

I gave him my sweetest smile.

He looked at his boss and firmly shook his head, disdain written all over his face. Now
my
jaw dropped. He'd refused my request?

I so loved a challenge.

Wondering what he didn't like about me, I stepped over to the glass that divided us for a quick look at my own reflection. I saw shiny hair twisted into a prim knot at my nape; I saw flawless makeup; I saw clothing designed to garner me the respect I deserved. I also saw a figure that wouldn't quit. So what was his problem?

Aware that he stared at me while everyone around him argued, I pulled a pin from my hair and let my auburn curls cascade around my face and neck. That got the guy's attention. I saw his Adam's apple bob in a convulsive swallow, but wasn't sure what it meant until he put a hand on Mrs. Williams’ elbow, stopping her we-desperately-need-this-sale tirade midsentence.

"All right, already. I'll do it."

Yes!

He got up and walked to the showroom entrance. I greeted him with my warmest smile and my extended right hand. “Hello, Mr. Dawson. I'm Lakota Rawlings. May I call you Thorn?"

"Sure.” He coolly shook and released my fingers.

"Thanks for helping me out tonight."

"No problem.” His demeanor actually said
big problem
. I could tell he wanted nothing to do with me.

I tried not to reveal my excitement. “I understand you're a designer."

"That's right."

"With degrees that make you damn good at what you do."

"I like to think so."

"Excellent.” I set my purse on the couch and walked over to the windows that gave
us
a view of the work area and
them
a view of us. I gave a pageant wave to our gaping audience, then pulled the chain that controlled the vertical blinds currently pushed all the way to one end. In seconds they spread out, covering the window and effectively blocking us from voyeurs. I didn't mind being watched. I simply didn't want to freak out Thorn, who, I suspected, might.

I next locked all the doors.

Turning, I flicked a stray curl out of my face and walked over to the first creation I came to, some kind of divided bench with what looked like a hot pink dick mounted in the middle of it. Closer examination revealed that the dildo could be controlled by what looked like a handlebar—my kind of sexercycle.

"This looks simple enough. One of your designs?"

"Yes."

"Mind if I try it out?"

He shrugged. “Be my guest."

After slipping off my jacket and draping it over my designer bag, I stepped out of my stilettos and kicked them to one side. That left me wearing a modest white blouse and a black skirt that hit me a few inches above the knees. A glance to my left revealed Thorn watching me with narrowed eyes. I could tell I hadn't turned him on yet...but it was early.

I walked around the bench, trailing my red fingernails over the black leather cushion. “What's this called, anyway?"

"The Lonely Fuck."

I laughed to show I got it. “Okay. Here goes.” With my eyes on my nemesis, I pulled up my skirt to the waist and then pulled down my thong. When I stepped out of it, I caught my toe in that scrap of lace and expertly flicked it on top of my jacket.

Thorn crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked at me in disbelief.

"Got any lube?” I asked.

"Not in my pocket."

"Would you ask around and see if someone else has?"

"Hell no."

"Then I'll need you to lick my pussy, please.” I sat on the couch and spread my legs, revealing my neatly trimmed patch.

Thorn took a step back. “Are you for real?"

"And then some."

He shook his head. “I'm not going to do this."

"Why? Are you married?"

"No."

"In a relationship?"

"No."

"Gay?"

"Fuck no."

"Then what's your problem? All I want from you is a little spit right here.” I pulled apart the pink lips of my pussy and pointed. “Is that too much to ask?"

He didn't answer. Was that a good sign or a bad one?

"Maybe I should call your boss...?"

Thorn glared at me. “Call away. I'm not scared of that bitch."

I sighed. “Sorry. Didn't mean to yank your chain.”
Especially when there's something else I'd rather get hold of.
“I'm just reluctant to buy anything I haven't tried myself."

"What do you need the Lonely Fuck for, anyway? A woman like you can have any man she wants."

"Oh, I don't know about that.
You're
playing pretty hard to get."

His amber eyes widened slightly. “You want me?"

"Why else would I strip and spread my legs? You're my kind of guy, Thorn. Tall, lean, totally hot.” I stood and walked over to him. “Don't you want me even a little?” I patted the fly of his Levis. His cock jerked in response.

"Who the hell are you?” he asked, and he didn't mean my name.

"I thought Mrs. Williams explained. I'm a buyer for the Cat Castle. You've heard of it?"

"Who hasn't? What, exactly, does a buyer do?"

"Buy, of course.” I explained my mission, then swept my arm to include everything in the showroom. “This stuff looks amazing and innovative, but I really hate to invest in anything I'm not positive about. I know a smart guy like you understands the wisdom of that."

"Uh-huh."

"So are you going to lick my pussy, or what?"

With a bemused shake of his head, Thorn joined me at the couch. I sat and grabbed a decorative pillow, which I set on the floor between my feet. Once again, I spread my legs and my pussy lips. Thorn hesitated a nanosecond, then dropped to his knees. Leaning in, he sort of lapped at me.

"Surely you can do better than that."

He gave me a hard look.

"Please?"

With a growl, Thorn buried his face in my snatch. His tongue slid over me several times before gently probing my slit. I fell back with a rapturous sigh. Thorn immediately pushed my thighs further apart. He began to suckle my sensitive flesh, in particular my clit, which thrummed with pleasure. In seconds, my ass bounced on the cushion. I groaned, one lick from coming.

Thorn pulled back with a smirk. “That should do it."

"What?"

"You're soaking wet. Go try out the Lonely Fuck."

With a huff of exasperation, I got up and walked over to the gizmo in question. I straddled it, letting that hot pink dildo slide into my moist pussy. It felt great, but I definitely preferred the real thing. Still.... Aching for release I began to work the handlebars. That dildo slid in and out, further stimulating an area ready to pop. I closed my eyes and imagined that Thorn lay beneath me, his stiff cock stuffed into my needy pussy. I sighed.

Thorn slapped my ass. Hard. My eyes flew open.

"Just thought I'd throw that in to enhance the experience."

"Oh, um, sure."

"Shall I do it again?"

"Feel free."

With every thrust of the dildo, Thorn slapped my butt cheeks, alternating between them until my flesh stung. I could imagine how pink they were. My pussy as good as exploded. I gasped and collapsed over the handlebars, only to have them yanked out from under me. I realized that Thorn had taken the helm. He pulled back the handlebars, then pushed them forward, sending that dildo much deeper than I had managed on my own. I gasped. He did it again, and again, faster and faster. I'd never felt anything like it, and lost myself to pleasure once more, this time with a full-body spasm that tossed me off the bench. Thor caught me before I hit the floor. On legs that trembled, I staggered to the couch and collapsed on it, face down.

The cushion muffled my next words. “Does it come in any other color?"

Thorn laughed at me.

Once I caught my breath, I stood...or tried to.

Thorn didn't let me.

"What?” I asked, trying to look over my shoulder at him. His hand, placed in the middle of my back, kept me pinned to the spot.

"Stay.” He walked off, returning seconds later with another crazy-looking device.

I eyed it suspiciously. “What the hell is that called?"

"Butt Fuck."

"If you think you're sticking that in my ass, you have another think coming."

"You don't do anal?"

"Not with a machine."

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