Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Rose glanced at her Italian watch and realized it was time to go. Shutting down her computer and storing her files she whisked out of the office, soft skirt flapping toned muscle. “Peter,” her voice cracked out as she spoke to her secretary, “I’m done for the day. If there are any emergencies I’ll have my cell.”
She took her private plush carpeted elevator down, studying herself in the gold etched mirror. She slipped into her cream Mercedes and the engine purred to life. Her relaxation tape of Hindu chants playing she backed out of her personal parking space and merged into the surging traffic of the masses. It was only a short trip to her country club, behind their hedges she could be with her own. She slipped into her simple black leotard, feeling it tight on her skin, and hit the floor. Eyes followed her as she went from machine to machine, her nipples were clearly visible, and intent starring could just detect the shape of her camel toe in the shiny lycra. She pretended not to notice, and that she did not like it, but in truth it pleased her immensely to know that men still found her attractive.
An hour and half later of cardio, aerobics, and body sculpting later she dragged herself back into the locker room. Her lungs burned slightly, muscles cried for a rub, sweat stung her eyes. She would be forgoing her massage today to meet with friends. Taking a quick shower with scented shampoo, she stopped to look at herself. All the grueling work paid off. Her inspection done, she did as always: covered her body in a finely tailored business suit.
Melinda and Danielle were already there. The club had a little health bar attached. They were already seated at one the sterile white tables, their expensive outfits clashing with cheesy Hawaiian plastics of the ambiance. Rose ordered a fruit shake and sat with them. “So how is everyone?”
“The divorce is final.”
“Congratulations.” They clinked their glasses. Rose had never been married, neither had Melinda. For her it was simple: she had never met a man worth spending the rest of her life with. She was special and deserved a special guy. She remembered being jealous of Danielle at her wedding, even though she could tell Roger was a dog. “Here’s too three successful, beautiful, and single women!”
“I couldn’t get rid of that loser fast enough. Thank god I got a pre-nup.”
“Really. But you had to; you’re the president for goodness sakes.”
“That’s right. You run the whole company now that Mr. Dumocus has retired.”
“Well I just had to get to your level.”
“It’s not all fun once you’re there deary. I had to fire a V.P. this week. I missed a night here because I was cleaning up his mess.”
“Such are the burdens of command.”
“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about work. What else have you been up to?” The conversation drifted over the mundane: rumors, movies, little stories, and the like. Words that were personal and friendly without possibly being embarrassing. A few tasteless fruit drinks later it was getting dark.
Rose frowned at the heavy low hanging rain clouds as she came out of the club. Drops pelted her perfumed hair with large drops. She made her way slowly home on the slick roads, the swollen clouds blotted out the setting sun, helping to limit visibility so much she unconsciously leaned forward in her seat. She lived outside of the city, a land of walled mansions, her own dwelling included. She loved the seclusion from the city, and the normally pleasant drive past manicured golf courses. A few miles from home she momentarily lost control as she misjudged the slope on a curve in the road. In an instant she had it back white knuckles fiercely gripping the wheel, but heard the sound of a tire popping. Cursing she pulled over and dug for her cell, it was drained. She spent $200 a month on extra services and the five cent battery screwed her. “Fuck!!!” her howl carried into the heavens. Stumbling out into the storm, teetering her patent high heels as they sank into the mud and wet sand the state had used to build a shoulder, groping around she fought to find her spare. Thankfully some dim headlights appeared on the horizon and she was able to wave a large van down as they brightened. It looked a little menacing, rusty and painted various colors. What was a work van doing out here? Maybe some was getting work done on their home.
A young man hopped out, moving in an easy loping stride. “Can I lend a hand?”
Relieved to see a normal looking guy Rose sighed, “I have a flat, if I could just borrow you cell…”
“Sorry, don’t own one. They’re terrible things.” He wandered around the car, Rose thought he was a little in his own world. He was oblivious to the cold rain, and largely to her. “I’m no mechanic by any means, but I can change a flat.” He spoke without looking her way. Nonchalantly he squatted down, brushing a curled blonde ringlet out of the way, and efficiently switched the tires. His hands moved mechanically, as though they worked on their own. Rose uselessly stood in the rain and watched, her waterlogged suit tugging on her, her makeup probably looked awful now. That goodness he was a stranger and it was dark. He did not atakent escort seem to be a bulky individual under his soaked brown sweater, but he easily hefted up the empty to toss it in her trunk.
“Oh thank you. Let me have your number.”
“Don’t worry over it.” He brushed his hands as he stood to leave.
“Well let me give you my card.” She pressed it into his hand.
He shrugged, stuffed it into a pocket, and got into his van.
Rose made her way home. Tomorrow she would take her little Lexus coop and have the car service come fix the flat. After taking a shower to clean off, she rubbed herself with coco oil and slipped into her normal routine. She had a little snack of rice cakes, and got into her bed, turning on Leno. She did not really like him, but had nothing else to do. At least tomorrow she had a date for the first time in while. She had spent hours slaving over what to wear.
The next day was full primarily of marketing reports. A new quarter was starting, and it was traditionally the busiest time of the years and Rose wanted a detailed plan for the season in place before it started. If the at meant everyone (including herself thank you) had to work a little harder than so be it. Rose was constantly busy, but she did not mind, she thought of a it as a normal uneventful day. Unfortunately she thought the same of her date. Ken droned on endless about work, grilling her about her position. It was a less a date than a power seminar over escargot, pasta, and chocolate moose. She had picked the most romantic place she knew, a live string quartet and blue crystal statues were bitterly wasted. Again the ride home was one of disenchanted silence (but she refused to cry); all her recent dates had been this way. It seemed as though everyone in her circles was total into business. There is more to life, and she wanted it. Each time it was getting harder and harder to rebound from the disappointment. Why did men only want to talk shop with successful women? She spent so much grueling time on her body, and the guy looked well built, but she would never know. She watched Leno again, frowning at the insipid, yet seemingly happy, stars.
Rose was having a busy day trying to calm a fight between two V.P.s. How could anyone get so worked up about whether or not it was better to ship by rail or truck to the Midwest? When the phone rang she waited for Peter to get it, preferring to focus on finding a way to let both men claim credit for the unexpectedly higher earning last month. But Peter didn’t pick up, probably away at lunch. Cursing she picked up. “Hello?” If this was something stupid she was going to take a chunk of out their ass.
“Yes? Who is this?” No one who she did not know should be calling this number.
“Eric Matterson, I helped you out with that flat Wednesday night.” His tone was unfazed by her assertiveness.
“Oh, right. How are you?” She put down her papers and flopped back into her executive leather throne. Thankful this call was not going relate to a power point presentation.
“Good, good. I take it you made it home alright?”
“Thanks to you.”
“Hey, glad to help. I was just calling to see what you are up to tonight to see if you want to get some drinks.” There was no pause, no change of inflection in his voice, he sounded confident.
Rose was mildly taken aback. You don’t ask girl out for later that day! But then she realized he was just being friendly. It was not a date; they did not know each other at all. All he probably wanted was a free meal in thanks, and then the debt would be closed. “Sure,” she would be happy to get out. Who cared if she missed Leno’s monologue?
“Great. Do you know the Blue Moon? On Maple between 8th and Wilmont?”
That was downtown. Rose never went downtown. “No, but I can find it.”
“Sounds good. 8:00?”
“See you then.”
Rose looked at the phone after she hung up. That was certainly unusual. She did not usually have contact with people outside of her business world. She felt as though she were back in college.
The invitation fled from her mind for remainder of the day as her job again overwhelmed her. In the end she’d ended up having to yell at both of the VPs. It was only when it came time to leave and she asked Peter if she had appointments she’d remembered. The idea appealed to her more now, even if it meant she would skip the bike at hit the country club. It would be good to meet someone new for change. She did a quick workout to keep her tone up and applied a little makeup.
The Blue Moon proved to be a small bar; she was not familiar with it as she rarely went down town. It was a cozy little place, music playing from at jukebox by the bathrooms, but the sound of conversation drowning it out. Eric was there at the bar, the quintessential shiny brass rail before well polished wood. He was looking comfortable in a casual sports jacket over his thin frame. Getting a good look at him for the first time she could see him as a ruddy youngster, no more than twenty-five if that. Not really her type, except for the hair. He had long curly blonde ringlets, silky and full, so much that ataköy escort she wanted to touch it. She knocked herself for being silly; he was just a random guy.
She felt several pairs of eyes on her as she made her way to him; men, young and old alike, earning her the consternation of several dates. She figured it was partially her expensive suit in a run of the mill bar and (with a twinge of pride) her figure. Even though she in her early thirties she knew she could knock of 5-6 years from her age with confidence. She always kept her skirts just a bit shorter than usual, giving everyone a hint at the firm thighs beneath. She stuck her hand out for a shake when he stood to greet her, but he slipped an arm around her waist. That was inappropriate. Part of his hand just touched the top of her ass, his pinky moving about ever so slightly.
“Glad you could make it Rose. Say hello to Sammy, our bartender,” he gestured to a thick scowling black man. “What can he make you?”
“I hope your week was smoother sailing since I saw you last.”
“It was busy and hectic, but no disasters.” She had a lot of those weeks now.
“Hardly sounds it, is it always that way?”
She had never thought of it that way. Sure her job was a pain sometimes, but it had been her goal for as long as she could remember. Rose Berchoui was going to get to the top she had always vowed. “Sometimes it seems all consuming I guess, but I wouldn’t give it up.”
He raised his half empty beer bottle in tribute. “Each to their own calling, I always vowed I would never have a job with any stress.”
“And you succeeded?” Rose was a little agitated. She was doing very well herself thank you, and he was raining on her parade.
“Fairly well I think, although honestly it may be as much me as my career.”
“What do you do?”
“Primarily I train seeing-eye dogs.”
“Huh.” That was different. She relaxed; he was not in her ballpark at all, just a mellow guy.
“Someone has to do it. I work with dogs all day, which I love. I’m helping people, and if I place two dogs in a month I end up ahead of the game. Throw in lots of free time and you have a winner.”
“Yeah, I do pretty well.” He polished off his beer. “Have you had dinner yet? We should get a booth.”
“No, not really. I was busy and just had a snack.”
“Not good. I don’t like to cook myself, but you should have a good meal. I eat out all the time.”
Rose ordered a salad, Eric enjoyed a steak. The conversation slipped into the mundane, how he got into dog training, the bar they were in, and beyond. When the bill came he took it.
“I should pay for myself.” She was annoyed.
“Nonsense.” He was amused.
“I do quite well for myself.” Why were men always so threatened by women with money?
“I’m sure, I don’t have a Benz.”
“Well then thank you for a pleasant dinner.”
“Come now. The night’s still young, we should take a little walk. I live on the edge of the waterfront.” She hesitated, but he took her hand and pulled her towards the door. “Come on, we’ll have a blast.”
She followed him (now he was in a black sports car) towards the river. He had a nice, well kept house she reflected as she parked in his driveway. He swung himself out of his car, he seemed to have considerable energy. “Come on.”
“It’s a nice walk; I do it all the time. Why? You legs took up to it.” She was floored as he ran a hand down the side of her thigh and over her bare knee. It had been a while since she’d let anyone do that. They had know each other for three days (barely), but his fingers gave a nice tingle to her smooth skin.
“Okay, lead on.”
“Excellent.” He offered her his arm and they strode off together. The covered a few clubs, getting drinks and dancing a little out on the beach. There were people everywhere, plenty of other hot women, dressed far sexier than her. He taught her how to play pool, repeatedly forcing their bodies into close contact as they did so. His arm grazed her tit, a thigh brushed her ass. It did not help the learning curve, all that touching flustered her. He was really taking advantage for just changing a tire. It had been years since Rose had just gone out and partied with the people. Feeling a little tipsy and seeing the crowds thinning they took the path back home.
“I better get going.”
“You better come inside you mean; you’re in no condition to drive.” Realizing he was right she readily assented.
His place was nothing special, pretty clean, sports and movie posters on the wall.
“I want to thank you for a fun evening. I don’t usually have a woman as good looking as you on my arm”
She waved a hand. “It was nothing. I had a good time too, I don’t get out much.”
“Really? I find that surprising. Why not?”
“Oh you know, too busy with other things. I can’t remember the last time I just went out for drinks.”
“That’s too bad, what do you do? I don’t know I could take always being at home.”
“I do get awfully lonely,” she realized the alcohol was making her say more than she should, “but you get used atalar escort it. This is the first time in month’s I’ve missed Leno.” She grinned stupidly.
“I think the show after that is still on if you’re going through withdrawal. We can watch it and see if you can drive afterwards.”
“Sure, but where’s your ladies room?”
“All restrooms here are coed, down the hall.”
Rose splashed some water on her face. She needed to get it together. Doing some breathing exercises to calm down she sent back to the living room. Eric had a drink in his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, so I’m having another. Would you like something?”
“Just water or some club soda if you have it.”
“I think I do.” He disappeared and came back shortly with a small glass for her.
There was only one dark leather couch in front of the TV. He sat down in the middle, putting his bare feet up on the glass topped coffee table, and patted the couch next to him. Trying to be graceful she sat down next to him, leaving a little space. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her close. His arm remained and she could feel heat from his fingers radiate as they rested on her tummy. Each one pulsing red. Her hip rested on his. The alcohol was wearing her down. Tired, she never usually stayed up for Conan. Her head came to rest on Eric’s soft shoulder. Both to and not to her surprise he turned to kiss her. He was a powerful kisser, wrapping his mouth over hers demandingly. He was probably not like that if he was sober she told herself. She thought fuck it and opened her mouth. He shoved his tongue in, probing and questing her, she sampled him as well. He sucked on her tongue, a new concept to her, but it felt good. He clawed at her shirt to pull the back up while pulling her as he fell on his back. Rose felt firm hands grab for her ass. “Wow you are tight.” No one had said that, or felt back there, in such a long time, it was good to hear it. He cupped her, roughly squeezing and rubbing her cheeks through the skirt. His actions were starting to warm her up in long dormant regions. A morning dew of sweet juice formed on her lips. God, she could not believe that little did so much to her, must be because it had been a long time. His ever-nimble hands began to undo the fine bone buttons on her shirt but she did not want to wait and ripped her designer blouse open. It was getting intense for her, yanking on his sweater. It stuck on his head as she was clumsy with desire and they had to fight to get it off. He really did have great hair she reflected as saw his laughing face again. It spilled onto his shoulders, giving him the look of a Norse knight. He looked calm and happy, totally relaxed within their feverish maneuvers. Not a bad chest either, not cut, but not flabby, and tan. He was probably pretty light without the sun, she thought as she compared her own darker Nez Perce skin against his. Her fingers tickled tiny fine hairs as they ran over his chest, but they were blonde so she could not see them. Her eyes briefly noted the lightning bolt tattooed on his right bicep. She did not have much time to reflect because he was peeling her skirt down over the gentle curve of her hips, the one she had spent so many hours in the gym trying to lose. He gave that up on that once it bunched up mid thigh. She was not wearing any special bra or panties, and he made quick work to get her tits free. “Damn.” They were not huge she knew, but looked bigger on her slight frame. He palmed them and kneaded them. It was wonderful to have a man’s hands on them again. Fingers grazing here and there, scrapping the tender undersides. He knew what he was doing too. Holding her bounties full in each hand, massaging them and making sure to cover them entirely. Her nipples popped out, and she flushed, feeling short of breath. He hugged her and buried his face in her quivering mounds, kissing, licking, and biting his way around.
“Fuck!” No one had ever been that aggressive before. Wrenching herself away, she popped open his pants and yanked them and his boxers down in one swoop, he flopped out. She got up to strip herself, forgetting about her skirt. She nearly fell over when it restricted her legs, but he caught her. “Oops,” she giggled. Together they teamed up and got her skirt and panties off and threw them aside. She straddled his legs leaving a thin wet streak of excitement on his thigh, tugging on his cock. The heat burned her hands, sooo different from a dildo. Not wanting to deny herself another moment she stuffed his throbber into her snatch and drove down on it. She thrilled at its feel, it had been way too long since she had a penis inside her. Plastic just could not simulate having something warm, alive, and twitching. He was just a shade larger than average if at all, but it still stretched her. She squeezed her muscles to have her walls mold on him. He sighed at being wrapped in her warmth. She went for her clit, but found his hand in the way. Keeping him buried fully inside her heat she circled around with her hips. Wrapping her arms around him she bit him and surprised to taste blood spill over her lips. She was concerned, but he did not react. She was going wild, losing herself. He jerked on her clit and she squealed. All the tension in her body balled up and then crashed her pussy exploded, spasming and flooding with her juices, his cock jumping underneath her. She settled down on him as tension eased out her and felt perfectly content as he went soft inside her. She nuzzled his chest. “Thank you.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32