Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
***
It had been a cold two months. No Gray, no Tad. She'd been keeping out of sight, burying herself in work at the paper and spending her time at home writing the novel that she'd started two years before. She spent a lot of time just before she fell asleep at night, trying to keep thoughts of Tad Stone out of her head. There was Tad Stone, and the Blue Lady, Juno, the night at his house, and the long hours in the rundown shack taking a sexual nose dive into the world of her most trashy thoughts.
As much as she pushed thoughts of Tad away from her, she remembered him many times—with dildo in hand. She remembered the Blue Lady too, and the feel of the men's eyes as they gazed at her naked chest, the way their fingertips would graze her thigh, and how their desire would make their lips wet with anticipation that was never realized. It all played in her head like an old movie in slow motion. The men became real again, perhaps more real than when she was actually running around topless. Then she was often too nervous to really acknowledge what was going on between her thighs. The time at Juno's house, she remembered being as much a whore as she'd ever been, only to find herself taking her lust for prostitution one step further the next night when she lived through the repeated assaults.
If she hadn't been a news-reporter, and doing it for a story, was she really any different that the women that used their body's for money? There were many nights, she climaxed to the idea of it, loving what made her a felon in the eyes of the law, a whore in the eyes of men, and a fallen woman in the eyes of people with real morals. Funny though, how those thoughts were swept away when her masturbations were over, only to return when she drew her dildo from the bedside stand the next night, and began to let her thoughts run free.
Her fantasies were glorious, but in real life, it was another bad season for men. She took heart knowing it wouldn't last, Eventually, she'd pull herself out of the blues and move on.
When she received an invitation to the mayor's charity banquet, it was just the coming out she needed to start her search for a man again.
***
The lights at the St. Johns Hotel danced. The chandeliers gleamed and everyone invited to the Mayor's grand affair seemed to be meandering in slow motion, as if the sequin dresses and starched shirts made it more difficult to move.
Kelly was wearing a long black slip dress, the only adornment the rhinestone spaghetti straps and the rhinestone bauble earrings at her ears. Her blonde hair was swept back in a sexy loose pile, wispy curls softening the line of her face. She wore spike high heels in satin brocade and spent two hours at the salon getting her acrylic nails painted red. The slim line of the dress, the way she moved, and how she held her head with a haughty self assurance created just the picture of femininity she wanted to communicate to the men in the room. She was on the prowl again after her self-imposed hiatus.
The only drawback to the night was going with Travis, one of the photographers on the news staff. The invitation came at the last minute, after she'd already decided that she would be perfectly happy going alone. Travis was cute, absolutely perfect, the kind of guy no woman in her right mind would turn down especially when he was wearing a tux. Stunning looks, a hint of snobbery and charming wit behind his cool facade, made him the consummate date, as long as you didn't expect passion beneath his well turned-out elegance.
When he asked her to the banquet, she almost felt sorry for him, even if the invitation sounded like he was rescuing her from the mortification of going to the banquet alone. Kelly figured he must have been turned down at the last minute, and the compassion made her accept his offer before she could bite her tongue.
For the first hour of the evening, the two floated from place to place finding dozens of people they both knew. It didn't take long to get a champagne buzz when their glasses were filled by watchful waiters every time they were empty. She was pretty high before she even got to the dance floor. A few token dances with Travis, Kelly linked her date up with a young female editor from a competing city paper, and struck out on her own.
"I'll catch up with you in a bit," she said to Travis.
To her surprise, Kelly literally bumped into Tad Stone as she was climbing the stairs to the ladies lounge while she was looking back over her shoulder at a friend.
"Ouch! I'm sorry," she said without thinking. Looking up, she was staring into Tad's eyes, seeing Tad Stone for the first time in something other than scruffy denim, T-shirts and leather jackets. He wore his tux coat with a collarless shirt and perfectly pressed blue jeans. He'd even combed his hair back and sprinkled cologne on his chest. She could smell it being that close.
"You better keep your eyes in front of you," he suggested.
"Yeah, sure," she answered him. For an instant he'd taken her breath away, a different more formal side to his character leaving her enchanted. The lush lady on his arm was a svelte brunette with hazel eyes and one of the kindest smiles she'd ever seen. Who she was remained a mystery. That Tad would be with such a woman when she always suspected he preferred exotic dancers and women on the fringe, she couldn't figure.
"Aren't you going to introduce us?" the woman asked.
"Sure, this is Kelly London, my boss. Kel, this is Ariel."
They shook hands, the kind smile not fading in the slightest. And though the woman made the moment less awkward, Kelly was anxious to move on. Giving them a nod, she continued up the stairs.
There was a balcony on the second level that looked out at the city lights. For a breath of fresh air, she wandered out, ignoring kissing couples and the cold that made her shiver and hold on to her arms. After a few minutes in the night air, as she was about to return inside, she felt two warm hands on her shoulders, and a warm body behind her. When he bent down to kiss the back of her neck she smelled Tad's cologne.
"Where's Ariel?" Kelly asked, turning around.
"Inside."
"She's a lovely girl, how did you manage to hook up with her?"
"I needed a date, she didn't have one and we agreed to go."
"A friend?"
"No, I met her at the bank, a teller."
Kelly laughed.
"You'd put on the moves anywhere, wouldn't you?"
"I guess. But she's too puritan to fuck. I'd think I was having my sister. You know what I mean?"
Kelly laughed again.
"So, where's your date? Didn't I see you with Travis whats-his-name, the photographer?"
"Oh, I left him getting acquainted with some sweet redhead with big breasts."
Standing close, the smell of him was having the most fascinating affect on her. Little jolts of electricity shot through her, as though the sense of smell had that kind of power to arouse.
They looked eye to eye, trying to make a decision, but neither one wanted to say it first. Moments passed and Kelly could sense Tad's groin move. Reaching around her, he had a hand on her behind pulling her into him.
"It's just physical you know," he said.
"I got that clearly," she replied.
"We could probably find some empty room," he suggested.
"Maybe down the hall?" she replied.
They moved off the balcony quickly, both anxious for a good screw. Bodies, pent-up from no fucking for weeks, can make do with almost any private sliver of space. They found a janitor's store room, the only door that opened when they tried it. Without worrying about a lot of preliminaries, Tad had Kelly's dress at her waist, her ass resting on the edge of a janitor's wash basin as he pressed his erection inside her. With the strains of Mozart coming from below, and the sound of some woman's laughter moving down the hall outside, they added to the genteel night with a music of their own. A fucking, grunting, shrieking music, the sound of it traveled beyond the closed storeroom door. Clashing with the mellow harmony, it was a titillating addition to the stodgy minds outside. Perhaps reminding the perfectly coifed and pristinely polished that there is a more passionate side to life.
Kelly craved Tad's cock in her so much she wouldn't let him stop with a single orgasm. They waited wordlessly in the tiny space for nearly fifteen minutes after the first orgasm died away, and then she slipped to the floor and fluffed his erection with her mouth until he was hard again.
"You must have been saving up for me," she observed when he was ready to enter her again.
"Must have," he agreed. For the second time in a half hour she was getting pumped again, this time from behind as she bent her over a rickety chair. He hammered her hard, even threatening to change holes and go for her ass—he was working that dark place. But she discouraged him, giving him such a spectacular massage with her vaginal muscles that he couldn't pull out. Their cries were even louder the second time, though it was a quicker climax.
The pair didn't leave the storeroom, for ten minutes—timed by Tad's watch. Hopefully anyone that was curious about who was on the other side of the door had given up waiting, so they could exit without being noticed. When they finally slipped out, there was no one there, unless the small party halfway down the hallway had heard and was just patiently waiting to see who the sexual culprits were. Still, no one appeared to look their way.
"So, you're still going to make your moves on Ariel tonight?" Kelly asked.
"I'll do what I can," Tad replied. "You letting Travis sleep over?" he asked.
"I might," she replied.
"Well, thanks," he said, when they reached the winding staircase to the main level. They descended together.
"See you Monday morning," Kelly said. They gave each other a pleasant wave and then made their way through the crowd to find their dates.
Tad did have the sweet Ariel later that night. She turned into quite a slut with enough booze flowing through her thin limbs and plush groin. When he took her home in the convertible, she was cold by the time he got to her apartment. He let her use his tuxedo jacket until he got her to her door. Instead of giving him a kiss good-bye, she invited him inside; and standing in her front hallway, she deliberately pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders, the thin slip of cloth falling to the floor. She was naked except for her garter belt and hose. For a shock-proof Tad Stone, this move took him totally off guard, not that he didn't catch up to her desire just seconds after the unveiling.
The surprising nymph refused to let him in bed with her. Instead she asked for it in her ass, and got it, while she lay over a footstool in her living room, and cringed with each forced thrust of his dick inside her tightest hole.
"Oh, yes, I love it. Yes more," she cried even when he saw her wincing. The fuck went on like that until the end, Tad not knowing what the woman really wanted, though he guessed he'd given her what she needed.
Saying goodbye at the door, she swayed her silk wrapped body next to his and kissed him on the mouth. It was the first kiss they'd had that night.
"You're were very good in my ass," she said. "Of course, sometimes I like them even bigger than you."
To that remark he had nothing to say, except that he thought it was time to go. After she closed the door, he walked away feeling as if he was just the newest trophy mounted on her wall of male conquests. It may have been a good night for his cock, but not for his peace of mind.
After the banquet, Kelly went home with Travis. They didn't speak much, but she was sure she wanted to go to bed with him just to feel what it would be like to have perfection for a night.
Just as she figured, it was less than fascinating, though perfectly adequate. He was methodical and easy to the point that he was almost lifeless. After they managed to climax, Kelly hoped they'd just fall asleep until morning.
Travis had other ideas however. Jumping from the bed, he offered to take pictures of her in the nude. The idea was the first exciting thing that had happened since she'd left Tad. It seemed taking pictures was Travis's real turn-on.
He had her masturbate herself on the bed while he snapped two rolls of film, capturing all her crude twists and turns. Considering that it was his profession, Kelly wondered if he was actually able to photograph what she was like when she was making love to herself: the facial expression, her feelings, her sense of sexual resolve? Once the orgasm was over, Travis led her to his darkroom and developed the black and white photographs right there. Before her eyes the essence of her sexual self appeared on paper. Her mouth parted, her labia opened with her hands, her fingers pinching her nipples, her hands pushing her breasts to her face for her lips to kiss. He caught her rubbing her clitoris, sticking her fingers inside her wet brew of juice, and then licking the cum from them with a coy expression of innocence as if it was the first time she'd done anything so naughty.
"I only want one," Travis told her as they were eating breakfast the morning after. He handed her the prints and all the negatives, along with a bagel and juice. "Just this one," he said, holding up one for her to view. "You can't see your face, so I can't use it against you, if you're worried about that."
"Not unless you know someone that has intimate knowledge of me in that position," she said, as a joke. It was quite a picture. On hand and knees, her fingers reached her pubic mound pulling it apart. Every bit of her hind end was exposed to the camera's eye. She thought of Tad. He’d probably be one of the few men that would recognize the view.
"You can keep it if you like," Travis said, backing off.
"No. No, that's okay. I trust you," she replied. "You can have it." She imagined that he'd be masturbating to it by the end of the day.
Finishing their breakfast, Kelly gathered the photographs and negatives into the file Travis had provided her. The photographer, cleaning up the breakfast dishes suddenly asked her a question right out of the blue, "How was it was Stone in that upstairs room?"
Kelly looked up shocked. "You know?"
"I was looking for you, and heard the noise."
"And you knew it was me?"
He looked as if he was about to blush. "You weren't too discreet. There were names spoken . . ."
"I didn't realize. The whole party knew?"
He shook his head no. "Just a handful," he said.
"I guess that would have bothered you, since I was your date," she admitted with a sheepish grin.
Travis shrugged. "Not really," he said. "Kinda turned me on, like taking pictures of you. I guess it's the voyeur me. I like to watch or even listen."
He made sense, and his confession made sense of the night. He liked being one step away from the action, while she liked being right in the middle. It had been quite a night, her only worry was how many stares and giggles she and Tad would have to live through Monday morning. And Sam, he'd have a fit, though he'd never fire his two best reporters.