by Baron Sord
Despite my failed attempt to say hello to her this morning, I doubted she would recognize me now. Therefore, it was highly unlikely she knew I lived here. I didn’t want to hop over the gate in front of her and freak her out. She might think I was robbing the place and call the cops.
I’d had enough hassles today already.
So I waited for her to pass.
You would’ve thought she’d either cross the street or turn around when she saw the weird naked guy wearing a flag kilt, but that visor of hers seemed to be blocking her view.
I smiled down at the little Yorky.
It stopped in front of me and sniffed my bare toes, tail wagging. Gave my toes a quick lick.
Yoga Angelina stopped short, her gaze crawling up my legs and the flag and then…
Nice abs.
Her gaze parked on my stomach for a moment.
I couldn’t see her eyes because of her ninja visor, but it was obvious where she was looking.
Really nice abs.
What was that? Had she just said something? I couldn’t tell because her visor was covering her lips.
Finally, her head lifted and her eyes met mine.
“Hi,” she said softly, pulling out her privacy earbuds. She obviously wanted to start a conversation. Cute, too.
Wait a second. Her lips hadn’t moved after she’d said the word hi.
Is he going to say anything?
What the… was I hearing her thoughts?
This close to Hillcrest, he’s probably gay. But he sure is cute.
Hillcrest was the nearby gay community north of Bankers Hill. I wasn’t thinking about that because this was so incredibly strange. I was reading her fricking thoughts.
She said, “Do you always go around dressed in a flag?”
“Uhhh…” I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
He seems too nervous to be gay. “It’s very patriotic.”
“I guess.” I wasn’t sure what to say next because I was still processing the fact I was reading her mind.
“What’s your name?”
“Doug. I live here.”
“I haven’t seen you around.” I would remember seeing a body this chiseled.
I chuckled. She had passed me a thousand times. Ninja visor or not, you would think she would’ve noticed me at least once. I guess abs made all the difference? Did Yoga Angelina talk to every guy with abs? Or only guys with abs? Based on experience, definitely the latter.
I would really like to take him home, she thought. I wonder how he uses those hips of his? Mmmm, mmmm. I’d sure like to find out.
“So, Doug, are you…”
“I’m locked out. Lost my keys. It’s a long story.”
“Do you need to use my phone to call someone?”
“Oh. Yeah. That would be awesome. Do you have a phone on you?”
I do but I’d rather take you home. She smiled, “It’s at the house.”
“Oh.”
She touched my wrist with her fingers, “I live just up the street. Come on. I’ll get you some clothes and you can use my phone.” If you play your cards right, I’ll let you use me any way you want.
“Uhhhh…” This was way too strange. One, I could hear her innermost thoughts. Two, did women really act like this around men with abs or was she crazy? I had no idea. I said, “Sorry, I don’t even know your name.”
“Vanessa.”
That was easy, which made this more strange. The fact that LL wouldn’t tell me her name seemed like business as usual. This seemed anything but.
“Come on, Doug,” Vanessa smiled. “Let’s get you inside so you can make your call.” But don’t call too quick. I want to enjoy your company as long as possible…
She led me around the corner of the street.
To my surprise, Vanessa lived only a few houses away from Arnold’s place. From the outside, her mansion was as impressive as his, but hers was built in a Spanish style with a red tile roof, while his was more of a classic craftsman. She punched in a code and led me through her gate and up the curving driveway to the house.
The front door was 12 feet tall and made from expensive ironwork and beveled glass. She pulled it open smoothly, as if it didn’t weigh a thing. The hinges alone probably cost a fortune. Inside was wall-to-wall marble and expensive furnishings.
Vanessa suddenly stopped short and bent over, her legs straight. She was right in front of me. Every inch of her ass was in full view and I nearly ran right into it.
She busied herself unhooking the leash from her dog.
All I could do was stand there and wait while trying not to look.
Okay, I’d been alive long enough to know that women never bent over in front of you by accident. They knew at all times where their asses were, and they never “accidentally” presented them like this.
He looked, she thought confidently as she stood up and flicked a smug smile over her shoulder.
Of course I looked. There was no way I could not look in this situation. It had been right there.
“Would you like something to drink?” she offered.
My first instinct was to say no so I could use her phone and get out of here. I had watched enough B horror movies to know that when a sexy-as-hell femme fatale came onto the nerd, it was so she could take him into her lair and eat him. True, this was my life and not a horror movie, but I had seen the show Snapped enough times to know that crazy women did crazy things to men all the time.
I realized I was being ridiculous.
We were neighbors. She was rich and hot. Why would she want to kill me? Plus, I was incredibly thirsty and well past hungry. In fact, I was starving. Without my house keys, I was at the mercy of fate until Arnold got home. I could at least call him from here and drink whatever Vanessa offered.
“Are you coming, Doug?” she purred.
Not in my pants. She meant with her.
I said, “Yeah, okay.”
“This way. There’s a phone in the kitchen.” She gave me a flirty smile and I followed.
The dog’s claws clicked on the marble as he led the way.
The house was huge. All arches and high ceilings and big windows. Arnold’s house was nice, but not this nice. This lady was loaded.
She said, “Are you hungry?” For me?
“Starving,” I said.
She thought, Maybe we can cook something up together. She set the dog leash on the marble-topped center island in the middle of the vast kitchen. She opened a cabinet that was actually the refrigerator and pulled out two cold water bottles.
The dog was sniffing around at my toes again.
“Stefan likes you,” she said. I think I like you too.
“His name is Stefan?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I think he’s smelling the smoke.” Earlier, when I was in LL’s car driving home, I had noticed I smelled faintly of burnt paint and gasoline from the car fire. It wasn’t lingering much now, but a dog would notice.
“Smoke? Are you a fireman?” I love me a rugged fireman.
I chuckled, “You could say that.”
“You aren’t dressed like a fireman.”
“Ah, well… long story.” Did I sound suspicious? Probably.
“Do you put out fires or… start them?” Because you’re sure making my panties hot.
“Uh, well, I, uh…”
The reason I didn’t answer her question was because I didn’t want to lie and say I was a fireman. We had already established I sucked at lying. I couldn’t tell her the truth either. She would never believe it.
I smiled, “It’s complicated.” Everybody knew that was code for “stop asking questions.”
“It always is,” she winked and unscrewed the cap of one water bottle and offered it.
“Thanks.” I took several long swallows, polishing off the entire thing in one go.
Vanessa stared at me while I drank.
“Thanks,” I said again as I set the empty bottle on the marble island.
“D
id it hit the spot?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
You can hit my spot later. She tossed me a flirty smile, “You were saying?”
“Huh?” I mumbled. Hearing her thoughts was a constant distraction.
She said, “So… did we decide if you were a fireman?”
I shook my head, “No. Not a fireman.”
“Okay, if you’re not a fireman, why do you smell like smoke?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“I’ve got time.” She twisted the cap off her own bottle of water and took a sip. For you, I’ve got plenty of time.
Obviously, she wasn’t letting me off without explaining myself. I didn’t want her thinking I was an arsonist — naked flag-kilt-wearing guy jumping fences and smelling like smoke and gasoline? Arsonist. I thought for a minute. I could come up with a reasonable lie. Let’s see… Okay. Got it. “This is going to sound lame, but I was at a frat party last night. Over at SDSU?”
“Yeah?” She raised her water bottle to her mouth and teased the tip with her tongue before taking another sip.
I swallowed hard and stared at her mouth while she worked the water down her throat, taking it in with sensual gulps. Swallow, swallow, swallow. Jesus. She sure knew how to use her mouth.
This is going to be so easy, she thought. “You were saying?”
I cleared my throat. “What?” All I could think about was seeing her tongue work its magic on the tip of that water bottle. I meant the head of the water bottle. With her mouth. I meant her lips. The lips of her fleshy opening. I meant… screw it. I meant she was working the dick of the water bottle with the vagina of her mouth. Jesus.
She thought, Goodness. Look at him. Like it was his first time. Maybe it is. No, not this stud. I can’t possibly be his first fuck.
She had thought the phrase “first fuck” as if us having sex in short order was a foregone conclusion.
I swallowed hard yet again.
She took another sip from the tip of the water bottle and kissed the mouth before pulling away. When she did, the thinnest thread of sticky spit stretched out between her lips and the tip before it finally broke. She coaxed me with a flirty smile and said, “You were saying something about a frat party?”
“Oh, right. The frat party. At USD.”
“I thought you said SDSU.”
“Right, SDSU. It was a backyard BBQ. I was standing over the grill all night cooking burgers, hence the smoke smell.”
“What about the flag?” She glanced at my waist.
Thankfully, I was standing behind the center island, which hid me from the waist down. Otherwise, she would’ve been asking me about my circus tent. Whenever I was in a public place and got a rager that wouldn’t go away — like right now — my preferred strategy was to use science. Specifically, reciting the periodic table of the elements in order. Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen…
“Your flag?” Vanessa prompted.
“Oh,” I chuckled nervously. Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon, Sodium… “I maybe got a little bit drunk.”
“Aren’t you a little old for a college frat party?”
“Nah,” I said with more confidence than I felt. Magnesium, Aluminum, Silicon, Phosphorus, Sulphur…
“You were saying?”
I nodded, “Yeah, I got drunk and the frat brothers must have stripped me naked and hidden my clothes. When I woke up, I was wearing this flag. Go figure.” Chlorine, Argon, Potassium…
“Boys will be boys. Do you want another water?”
“Actually, yeah. If you don’t mind.”
She took another sip from her bottle, which was nearly full, kissing the tip once again.
The bottle. The BOTTLE!
Calcium! Scandium! Titanium! Vanadium!
After finishing her sip, she leaned over the island, holding it out for me to take.
I saw right down her straining and spectacular cleavage.
Chromium! Manganese! Iron!
Oh no! Those three elements were key components in many steel alloys! Including the infamous blue steel! Everyone knew “blue steel” was not just Ben Stiller’s trademark look in Zoolander! It was also a euphemism for—
Cobalt! Nickel! Copper! Zinc!
She waved the water bottle, “You can finish mine. Go on. Take it. I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to…
Not sure what to do, I took her water bottle and stared at the slick wet opening.
That was Vanessa’s slick staring back at me…
Gallium! Germanium! Arsenic!
“I don’t have cooties,” she cooed. “You can drink it.”
Hoping the cold water would cool my jets, I took a long swallow.
“Can I get you anything else?” Like a condom?
Blorp!
That was the sound of me spurting water out of my mouth. It splattered all over the marble counter top and I started coughing.
“Are you okay?” She grabbed a towel and came around the island beside me.
I rammed myself against the island, trying to hide the great American tent affixed to my waist. Apologies to the Stars & Stripes. I wheezed, “Sorry. Water’s cold.”
She bumped me with her hip when she bent over the marble counter to wipe up the water I’d spit.
Once again, her ass was in my face.
Her perfect ass.
Every time she wiped, it shook.
I was hypnotized.
Maybe it was time for her to go get those condoms…
She thought, I’m so glad Richard is in China on business this week. When the dog is away, this cat will play. It’s the least he deserves after sleeping with that bitch Madison. Massage therapist my ass. Sounds like a stripper name to me.
“There,” she smiled. “All clean.” She dabbed the tip of my nose with the towel. “You’re all wet.”
“Yeah…” I said.
She thought, So am I from looking at those abs and arms of his. This guy is a big slice of man hunk cake and I’m dying to take a bite.
She was right in my face.
Damn, she was beautiful.
Now that I was looking at her up close, I realized Vanessa merely resembled Angelina Jolie. In the best way possible, of course. Vanessa had her own unique look that was equally hot. Not just her incredible body, which was worthy of a wet dream. But her face too. It was sexy and pouty and a little bit mischievous. Any guy alive would die to sleep with her. I was sure at some point, her husband had felt that way too, and might still feel that way.
Vanessa gave me the most seductive “kiss me” eyes I’d ever seen. She thought, If he laid me across this island and went to town, I would definitely not stop him.
Too bad she was married.
I cleared my throat, “Can I use your phone?”
“Sure,” she said with a combination of confusion and irritation. Maybe he is gay. What’s wrong with this guy? Why didn’t he kiss me? Was I not being obvious enough?
“Your phone?”
She smirked and grabbed a portable from a cradle in the corner. “Here you go. If you don’t mind, I’m going upstairs to take a shower.”
“Oh. Uhhh…”
“Don’t worry. Take your time. If you need anything, just holler.” I hope that was enough of a hint.
“Yeah. Okay.”
On her way out of the kitchen, she shook her ass for all it was worth, which from where I was standing was at least a hundred billion dollars. Billionaires would fight a bidding war just to get a glimpse of that ass. Here I was, seeing it shake for free. And it was shaking for me. Talk about head rush.
If I had no principles, I would’ve been all over her. But I did. Not that I wanted them now, but they were there. Principles could be very inconvenient.
When Vanessa was gone, I called Arnold on his cell. He didn’t answer so I left a message telling him I was locked out of the house and ended the call.
Time for me to go before I did something with Vanessa I regretted. But I would thank her for the
water before I left.
The following thought from her drifted into my mind:
He’s not coming, His loss.
Strangely, I could feel her disappointment as if she were in the room saying it to me.
Her thoughts continued, I spend all that time at yoga and spin class, and for what? Not Richard. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s too busy with work and his flings. What does it take to get a man in my pants? I’m practically giving it away and Doug doesn’t want it! And I’m not even 40! What is wrong with me?!
Although her frustration and disappointment made me feel bad, I had to wonder, what kind of range did I have for reading people’s thoughts? This was a big house, so at least a hundred feet. How crazy was that?
Could I read other people’s thoughts?
Was that possible?
I closed my eyes and concentrated.
A jumble of whispers reached out to me with their delicate mental tendrils.
divide by x and take the square root of…
how many times have I told him to put the toilet seat…
sell my 500 shares of JPMorgan, then…
never doing that again, so help me…
did I put that bag of Doritos? I swear I…
Peter? Is that your ghost? Peter? Oh, how I’ve missed you. Please say something. Peter? Please talk to me, sweetheart. Pete—
My eyes popped open.
That last one felt like the woman — I could tell it was a woman from the sound of her thoughts — knew I was listening.
Was that possible?
Of course it was. If I could hear what they were thinking, why couldn’t they hear what I was thinking? Or at least know I was invading their brain? I’d have to be more careful about listening in on people’s private thoughts. Or I could avoid doing it altogether. But I had to wonder, if that woman who was calling for Peter had felt my presence, why hadn’t Vanessa felt it? Was it because people had differing degrees of psychic connection or whatever this was?
Who knew.
I mean, look at this body, Vanessa thought. Most men would kill to sleep with me. There must be something wrong with that Doug. Standing on the street in an American Flag and nothing else? Probably escaped from the mental hospital. I don’t know why I bother. What a waste. What a total fucking waste.
Time for me to go.
I could thank her later.
