Sex Snob (4 page)

“Hmmm,
” I moaned. “There’s dork. And dweeb. And . . .” I was becoming breathless as his fingers moved, stimulating my clit before two sunk deep inside of me. His other hand snaked up to my breast, and began toying expertly with my nipple.

“And what, Amanda?”

“And freak, weirdo. Oh,” I called out as his hands wove magic with my body. But suddenly, he stopped, and I was left unsatisfied and aching for release.

“No, those will just
not do,” he replied casually as I felt him tugging on himself slowly, his dick poking my ass with every sensuous pull. “You’ll have to do better or I’m going to really show you a geek by jerking off when there’s a naked chick with a smoking hot body writhing around my shower.”

I turned toward him, my skin emanating heat on its own,
not needing the hot water of the shower to warm me. I grabbed his thick cock in my hand and began to work it, feeling the latex of the condom that stretched over him. He must have put it on before stepping into the shower. What a boy scout: always prepared. God, I loved these games Kyle played. They were such a fucking turn on. But I also knew he hated to lose. He would actually jerk off rather than fuck me if I didn’t give him what he wanted.

“Okay, Mr. Sensitive, don’t waste a perfectly good hard-on,”
I whispered seductively as my right hand continued to work him while my left reached up and wove its way into his short, dark brown hair. “How about genius?”

His hands moved to my hips,
then one skated down my pelvic bone, coming to rest on my clit. I looked up at him, and he cocked one eyebrow, encouraging me to keep going.

“And . . .” I took a deep breath in, lowering my gaze from his,
“Sir,” I whispered so low, it was barely audible over the running water.

My periphery picked up the slight twitch of his lips.
Then, he leaned down and spoke softly into my ear, “So, that’s the game you want to play tonight?” He sucked on my ear as I nodded yes. “Good,” he breathed. Then, he abruptly pulled back from me. “Turn around,” he commanded, his voice strong and deep.

I obeyed instantly, knowing that I could trust Kyle to give me what I needed.

“Keep your head pointed forward,” he ordered. His hands were gone from my body and I stood there under the water, aching with anticipation.

I heard the sound before I felt it.
He had delivered a sharp blow to my ass, his hand cracking over it, stinging my wet skin. I let out a startled cry followed by a deep moan.
Yes, this was what I needed.
After all of the emotional bullshit that had surfaced over the past hour and a half, I needed this release. It relaxed me. Soothed me.

Kyle again withdrew his hand from me and left me waiting, wanting.
Finally, he delivered another slap, this time to the other butt cheek. I tilted my head back in pleasure, and it was all I could do to prevent my body from pushing back against him. But I couldn’t. That wasn’t how this game was played.

“You were a bad girl today, weren’t you?”
Kyle asked, his voice stern and authoritative.

“The
day
was bad,” I murmured, incapable of articulating more as my anticipation continued to build.

Kyle didn’t reply right away.
Instead, he cracked me on the ass again. As he did, I felt the tension leaving. My hurt feelings began to ebb away as they were replaced with carnal desire.
Sometimes a girl just needs a good, hard spanking to clear her mind.
All of my focus was drawn to my surroundings as I tried to anticipate the next blow. It was utterly divine.

“Turn off the shower head and then bend over. Put your forearms on the shower wall for support,” he instructed.

Lawyers are great at telling people what to do.
This was why I adored Kyle. He could read me like a law book. He knew that I needed to relinquish control, let someone else take over so that I could stop thinking for a little while. And he was so hot while he did it.

I took a small step forward and bent over at the waist.
I raised my forearms and used them to brace myself. I put one arm up by my head to prevent it from colliding with the wall, while the other rested parallel
to my body. In this position, my ass was thrust out toward him. He rubbed his hands roughly over it, soothing away any residual stinging.

Then, his palm
found my ass again and the smarting pain rippled through me erotically. My position caused my skin to be pulled tighter, allowing the slap to reverberate through my yearning opening and sensitive clit. I moaned loudly, applying pressure with my forearms, almost pushing myself backward to cause the dull ache to stay in the lower half of my body.

His fingers pushed inside me, swirling around authoritatively, as if they belonged there.
Which they did. Kyle worked me expertly, knowing my body better than anyone. After a brief moment, he withdrew his fingers and left me without his touch once again.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Amanda,” he said matter-of-factly, though I knew that it was his way of telling me to brace myself.

Then, suddenly, he slammed into me, lurching me forward. I released a guttural groan of pleasure as my mind silently applauded my forethought of putting my arm up where it would protect my head. The last thing I needed was to have to explain to people how I got a giant bruise on my forehead.

He eased out of me slowly, teasing me.
And then suddenly he was back, filling me again with the same forceful thrust he had employed the first time. Kyle pulled out and crashed back into me a third time before he picked up speed, his fingers digging into my hips as he held me in place and hammered into me, quick and unrelenting. I pushed into his thrusts, bending over even more to give him unbridled access to my quivering opening. He peeled the fingers of one hand off my hip and reached around to find my clit, stimulating me in as many ways as possible. My body was close to finding its release, and I simultaneously craved it and resented it, not fully wanting this intense pleasure to end. And as his fingers brushed against me and his cock plunged rapidly into me, my orgasm reached its apex.

I moaned loudly as he smacked me one last time, causing me to fall apart beneath his fingers and around his dick, my opening contracting as it milked him.
He slammed a hand against the wall above my head as he pushed himself deeper into me, finding his own release. "Fuck," he grunted as he buried his face into my hair, his breathing jagged.

We stood there like that for a moment, trying to regain our breath.
Finally, Kyle withdrew from me and opened the shower door to throw the condom into a nearby trashcan. I straightened and turned the shower back on. When he resumed his place behind me, I turned to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

“Feel better?” he asked sincerely.

“Much. Thank you.”

He grunted.
“My pleasure.”

I giggled at his words, but I didn’t let go of him.

“I picked us up some Chinese. Let’s get dressed and then we'll
eat while we watch porn.”

I laughed loudly, effectively releasing any trace amounts of tension left in my body. “Dream on, creeper.”
I smiled as I released my hold on him. We washed the sex off our bodies in silence. Then, we got out of the shower, dressed quickly, grabbed our food, and stationed ourselves on Kyle’s couch. He flipped through his Apple TV until he came to Netflix. I ate as he searched for a movie.

“Go to the scary ones,” I prompted.

“You just need to feel all sorts of extreme emotions tonight, don’t you?” he asked with a smirk.

I shrugged, not wanting to answer his question and bring back bad thoughts to my mind. “Look,” I said, “that one has Megan Fox in it.
So, it’s probably
almost
porn.”

“Good call,” he gasped, smiling broadly.
And as the movie started and we slunk back into his couch, I was finally content.

Thank fucking God for Kyle.

Two

The next morning, I woke up feeling like my normal self. I had gotten home from Kyle’s around midnight and had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. I glanced over at my clock. 9:00. If I got up now, I could make the CrossFit class at 10:00. I briefly wondered if it would be weird to see Shane today after our heated encounter yesterday.
Fuck it, it’ll only be weird if I make it weird.
So, I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

***

I walked confidently into the gym five minutes before class was scheduled to start. My eyes immediately fell on Shane, since he was sitting just inside the doorway on a rowing machine. He was petting a large golden retriever.

“I didn’t know it was Bring Your Girlfriend to Work Day,” I muttered as I passed him, not slowing to give him time to respond.
I smirked, pleased with my quick wit. I didn’t look directly at him as I passed, but out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw his shoulders sag a little, as if he let out a breath he’d been holding and physically relaxed. I briefly wondered what his posture could mean when I reminded myself
again
that I didn’t give a shit.

I walked over and grabbed a piece of PVC and began stretching my arms as I looked at the board that showed our workout today.
Not too bad
. We had to run 400 meters and then do max reps of pull-ups. Once we’d hit max, we would run again. We had twenty minutes to do as many pull ups as possible.
Twenty minutes of Shane; I can handle that.

I looked around the room.
There were only seven
other members and no other trainers here. Shane continued to pet his girlfriend. Finally, he stood and made his way over to us. “Okay, let’s get started. Ten jumping jacks. Go.” He took us through the warm-up and then explained the workout. Next, he set the timer on the wall and told us to line up by the ramp that led out of the back of the building. “Hold on, Amanda, get in the back of the line so you don’t get trampled when everyone blows past you,” he yelled casually.

“Finally, something you know about: blowing,” I retorted, looking back at him over my shoulder.

Everyone laughed loudly at my remark, and I raised my eyebrows, claiming my victory.

His lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smirk. This was how we usually were. It was inappropriate banter, but it also wasn’t meant to truly offend either of us. We were back on familiar ground.

“Yeah, well, from what I hear, you know a good bit about that topic yourself.”
His lips lifted into a smile.

Did he think a comment about my sexual prowess would embarrass me?
I was almost insulted at how much he underestimated me. “Oh, baby, you have no idea,” I called before turning around and readying myself for the start of the run.

“
You offering to clue me in?”

His voice was husky, which threw me completely off kilter. But I didn’t dare turn around. The last thing I wanted was
for Shane to know that he had rendered me speechless.

I heard him laugh behind me as he yelled, “Go.”

***

Twenty
minutes later I found myself on the gym floor,
which consisted of wall to wall hard black rubber mats, in a pool of my own sweat with my arms flopped uselessly beside me.
That sucked way more than I had anticipated.
With great effort, I lifted my hands to my face and inspected them. Calluses had formed.
Awesome
. I plopped my arms back down on the mats and closed my eyes, trying to regain feeling in my upper body.

When I opened them again, I saw Shane standing over me, smirking.
“Tough workout, huh?” he asked, clearly pleased with himself that we were all exhausted.

“Nothing you do is tough,” I retorted as I worked my way into a sitting position, sighing heavily from the extra exertion.

He chuckled softly before extending a hand to me.
“Come on,” he said. “Stand and stretch before your muscles lock up.”

I hesitated, wondering if he was going to drop me on my ass if I let him help me up. I also wasn’t sure I wanted his help, but that seemed petty, even for me.
I glanced up at him before accepting his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull me up. Thankfully, he didn’t drop me. However, once standing, I found myself directly in front of him with maybe only a foot between us. I felt a strange pull in my core, attracting me to him as if by a magnet. A magnet I had somehow managed not to notice until now. I became hyper aware of my body and began to worry that, if something didn't pull us apart soon, I wouldn't be able to resist the urge to close the gap between us and push my breasts into his broad chest. He stared intently at me for a moment, before he took a step back and cut the electricity between us.

“Hey, guys, one more thing,” he yelled as he turned to the rest of the group.
“Friday is Kate’s birthday. We’re goin' to a bar in Manayunk. I’ll give you the details later in the week, but keep the night open. All are welcome.” He then walked off back to where he had tethered his dog.

I briefly wondered if he
and Kate were dating. Why else would he be organizing a party? Though maybe he wasn’t organizing it, just passing the word on. My surly brain tried to remind me that I didn’t care, but for some reason, I did care. I just wasn’t sure why. Then the crackle that I had felt moments earlier crossed my mind.
No, no way. I don’t like Shane. He is a total douche. Not to mention that he doesn’t meet Rule Number 2.

I pushed all of the nonsense from my mind, grabbed my water bottle, and walked toward the cubbies.
But, as I passed Shane, I felt the need to speak to him. “So, why did you bring your dog here?”

My mind rushed through possible responses:
the dog kept trying to run away from him, seeking a better life elsewhere, so he had to keep her close to foil her escape; she was pregnant with Shane’s puppies and he wanted to prevent her from birthing them in his closet; the dog had complained that he never took her anywhere anymore; she kept letting all of the other dogs in the neighborhood hump her and it was making Shane jealous. But his actual response was a letdown.

“My air conditioning is broken and I didn’t want to leave her in my house.”

“But there’s no air conditioning in here, either,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but we have the fans going and the dock doors open.
At least there’s air circulating in here."

I nodded my head, not wanting to verbalize that he had a good point and had done the responsible thing.
He clearly loved the bitch.

“Okay, well have fun in your sweltering house.
It probably reminds you of where you were born." I cocked my head to the side, "When
was
the last time you were able to visit your old dad Satan in hell?” I smiled broadly at my comment, impressed with myself, as usual.

He looked up at me as he sat beside his dog on the floor, regarding me with mild amusement.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he finally muttered, clearly unable to think of a snappy comeback.

“Yup,” I replied perkily
, before turning toward my cubby to retrieve my keys.

As I walked toward the door, I looked at Shane, the smile still prominent on my face, rubbing in my victory.

“See ya later, smartass. Oh, and you’d better be at the party on Friday,” he added.

My smile fell slightly.
“Why?” I asked, confused.

“Because for some reason that baffles the shit out of me, Kate really likes you.
She’d enjoy having you there,” he replied simply.

"I’ll try to make it.
See ya.” As I walked out of the gym and climbed into my car, my brow furrowed.
I drove home desperate to figure it out why I was filled with emotion. I pulled into a parking space outside of my apartment ten minutes later, no closer to an answer. Shane’s explanation made perfect sense, and I was happy that Kate enjoyed my company enough to want me at her party.

So then why the hell did I feel so disappointed?

***

By the time Tuesday finally rolled around, I was desperately in need of a night out. I still couldn’t completely shake the weird feeling I got at the gym Saturday.
And I’d spent most of Monday dodging Bader and his continuous requests for me to look at the numbers on the LaPorte account again. When Steph and I returned from lunch Tuesday and Master Bader still hadn’t given it a rest, I finally took the documents from him and retreated to my office. Danielle followed behind us, and since I knew the LaPorte numbers were correct, we simply closed the door, spread the paperwork across the table and desk so it looked like we were working, and took the second half of the day to ogle the gorgeous intern through the glass wall.

Hot
Rod, as we referred to him, was about 6’2” with sexy dark hair and a naturally tan complexion. He wasn’t too built, but his toned body was noticeable through the fitted suits he often wore. And he had kind of an irresistible goofy charm to him.
He was in his last semester at St. Joseph’s University, and we knew his time here was limited unless he was able to get a job with the firm. Since we might only be graced with his presence for a few more weeks, we decided we would create a competition that would serve dual purposes: it would allow us to have permanent images of Hot Rod even if he left the company, and we would have a solid form of entertainment until that time came. The purpose of the competition was to take the best inconspicuous pictures of him based on certain criteria.

Once our idea was solidified, we had to agree on the specific details.
Steph volunteered to judge since she didn’t have any confidence in her ability to take pictures without Rod noticing. And Danielle and I were more than happy with that, as we enjoyed a challenge (and also gawking at hot men)
and would now get to have someone decide who was the better stalker
.

“Okay, let’s agree to the rules,” Steph insisted.
“Rule Number 1: You can’t tell Rod about the competition. And Number 2: You can’t ask him to get in any pictures. No group shots or anything tricky like that. Got it?”

Danielle and I nodded in unison.

I have been competitive ever since my middle school softball team won the championship one year, and since then I’ve hated to lose. I also knew that this was a sure win. I had been strictly following a set of rules for the past four years. Danielle was out of her depth here. “What are we being judged on?” I asked eagerly.

“Yeah,” Danielle urged. “Are there certain categories?
Like best crotch shot or something?”

We all laughed, but quickly agreed that categories were a good idea.
Steph rounded my desk to find a blank legal pad and pen and returned to the couch to make a list. “Since I’m judging, I get to make the categories. I definitely love the crotch shot one, so that’s a given. Hang on for a sec.”

Steph scribbled on her notepad.
With her dark-rimmed glasses and red hair in a loose bun, she definitely had a hot librarian look going. Danielle and I took the opportunity to eyefuck Hot Rod as he bent over to fix the paper jam in the copier that was right outside my office. Steph caught a glimpse of him, too, and immediately jotted something else down.

“I’d love to show that Hot Rod how well I drive stick,” Danielle sighed.

“Okay, listen up,” she said after another minute or so. She cleared her throat and stood to make it seem more official. “The competition is called Hot Rod Shots. There are five categories. You will text any pictures you take to my phone over the next three weeks, so that you won’t see the pictures the other has taken. We need to keep it fair. Then I’ll choose a winner for each category. Best out of five wins.”

“Okay sounds good.
Now let’s hear the categories.”

“The five categories are as follows: Best Crotch Shot.
That one was already established, and I think it speaks for itself. The type and tightness of his pants . . . how closely you zoom in . . . all of it matters, ladies. So consider that when you take the pictures. The second category is Most Seductive Expression. You might want to catch him chewing on his pen, running his tongue across his luscious pink lips like he does when he’s deep in thought.” She paused, clearly caught up in her own fantasy. “Wait, on second thought, can I participate and not judge?”

We shook our heads and laughed.

Steph sighed and continued. “Best Ass Shot is next. Then Best Smile. I know that one seems kind of innocent, but we don’t wanna be barbarians for God’s sake.” She lowered her legal pad and looked at us to gauge our reactions so far. “And lastly, Best Hair Day. You know how sometimes Hot Rod has his hair extra messy? Well, I’m thinking a hair day that looks like he just came up for air after you’ve used those thick, dark locks to move his head back and forth between your thighs for twenty minutes. But I’m giving you too many ideas,” she added quickly. “Just use your imagination.”

“I’ve got this in the bag,” I said confidently as I clapped my hands together once and raised them high in the air with clenched fists.

“No way,” Danielle retorted. “I can see his desk from my office. You don’t stand a chance. Plus, you’re like a fucking giant compared to me. I’m practically at crotch level without even having to bend down. If that’s not an advantage, I don’t know what is.”