by Tiana Laveen
He sighed loudly, then brought his fingers to the top button of his black shirt. He slowly licked his lips, then swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bounce. Before long, the man was naked in front of her. His tall, muscular frame called to her as he reached for her to relieve her of her clothing. His movements slow and sensual, he undressed her, building up a flame within her. He sucked his bottom lip as his chest rose and fell; the tight abdominal muscles of his physique clenched even more when he reached her panties. She stepped out of them, her excitement growing. Before she had time to take another breath, he pushed her into the window. The coolness of the glass startled her senses, which screamed for her to back away from the damned thing — but his body was so warm, it soon enveloped her in its heat, making everything all right.
“My greatest find was you…”
In a swift move, he turned her body towards the ceiling to baseboard length window. The moon shined bright, while the city lights danced and sparkled, welcoming her gaze. He pushed her against the damned thing, the ledge wide enough for her to stand upon. Even with her on the low platform, he stood taller. Hecupped her breasts, his soft lips dragging down her back, drawing a shudder from her. How vulnerable she was with her body fully exposed to him.
“I spend my life searching…finding…looking…discovering…and then, I find you.”
She dropped her head, causing her freshly pinned wash ’nd go curls to fall forward.
“It doesn’t matter now why I did it. It only matters, that it came to be.”
“Ahhh…”
She gasped when his hand cupping between her legs, holding steady, unmoving, in a commanding grip. Not painful. Just…assertive.
Then, he slowly caressed her zone, gingerly opened up her folds, drawing an impulsive guttural moan. Her pussy poured out a slick stream, which he caught in his palm. Then, her knees bucked the moment she felt his tender lips on her valley, sucking her diligently. She looked down to see his face buried between her legs. He cupped her knees and looked up at her, his gorgeous green eyes hooded, as he sucked and swallowed all that she offered.
“Ahhh…Ahhhh….” She tried to steady herself, fearful she’d lose her mind. The man ate her pussy to perfection. If she said so herself, he was truly gifted.
Twisting his tongue to the side, he worked it all over her clitoris in a quick motion, applying more and more pressure until she couldn’t take it anymore. He slipped a finger, and then another inside of her. The sensations overwhelming her, sheleaned for support to the side of the window, bracing herself, holding on. He gripped her thigh, keeping her upright as he continued on, until she lost it completely.
“Ahhhhh! Oh my God…” The orgasm caused her head to throb. He kept milking her, now massaging her ass with his fingers as he took in the last of her juices. Standing, he wrapped his arm around her stomach. She braced herself, knowing full well where his other hand was. The head of his cock brushed flirtatiously down the center of her ass. She felt it again and again, until he forced her to lean further into the window and bend slightly at the waist.
“Ohhhhh! Oh!” she screamed as he pushed within her. His large, thick dick plunged inside of her wetness, moving upward like a rocket soaring for the stars. He began to slowly thrust, and in the reflection, she saw him rising slightly off his feet at each forward movement, sinking all of his dense inches inside of her, making her go crazy. She reached behind herself to place her hand on his lower stomach, trying to keep him at a certain pace, but it was no use. He wanted her, and he was going to have her — on his terms. He continued to push upward.
“Ohhhh!” She started to cum again, her breasts pressed into the glass as he increased his stride. Holding her hips steady, he continued to lunge. The man was breathing fast, huffing and grunting as he took her, but otherwise said nothing at all. Rather, his body did all the talking. A few moments later, her groin seized up, and yet another unbelievable orgasm took her over. This time, he gently cupped her chin as he continued to move in and out of her, popping his hips. He filled and stretched her, bringing on a wild addiction to his loving. She trembled so hard, her muscles locked. He caught her under the arms when she started to slide down, limp and satiated, then leaned her back against the window as if nothing unusual had occurred, and kept on. His hard, sweaty chest pressed into her back as his pubic hair brushed tightly against her ass with each thrust. His mouth now close to her ear, he talked dirty and sweet, said things…unbelievable things that made her cum on herself all over again…
“I want you to be mine, forever, Brooklyn… You like to dig up artifacts, hmmm…I like to shove my dick inside of your treasure and find your sweet spot to make you explode on my cock…”
“Uhhhh!” He sucked his pinky finger, confusing her…but not for long. She tightened in astonishment when he slipped it inside of her ass, making love to her in all ways. The double penetration caused a torrent of sensations to wash over her. A series of tumultuous orgasms claimed her and tossed her ass around like the dough in an authentic pizzeria. Once again, he came to her aid, helping her back up by maneuvering his body just so, and sliding her where he wanted her…but he kept that finger jerking in and out of her ass and that hard, stiff cock doing double duty in her pussy.
Exhausted, she accepted what he was giving her. Minute after minute, he maintained a brisk pace with no signs of letting up. She’d never experienced so many back-to-back orgasms in her entire life. But it wasn’t over. He sped up, grunting and gasping…and she felt it. He was close. She urged him on, wanting to feel his creamy warmth inside of her. She bucked her ass into him, popping it. He loved that, and she was going to take him there, return the favor.
“Uhhhh! Yeah, just like that…” he rasped. “Uhhh!” He gripped her hips hard, pushing into her over and over, straight to her damn womb. From the muted reflection, he was looking down at her ass as she worked it, so she showed out, did it harder and faster, winding it, driving him insane.
“Uhhhh! Yesss…Brooklyn…Yesss! Uhhh! Like that…like…that!”
She kept right on, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. She’d gained new energy and used it to take him to the edge.
“Uhhhh!” He thrust hard, slamming into her, making her shudder. “Mmmmm! Uhhhh, shit!”
She felt it inside of her then; over and over he shot his essence, warming her insides with the man-load she craved.
“Uhhh!” He kept thrusting, fast and hard, until he was drained and breathing harshly against her ear. She heard him swallow as he cupped her breasts once again, this time lightly, as if he didn’t have the energy to do much else. After awhile, he stepped back from her, then turned her around to face him. He placed a tender kiss across her lips, then walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. She stood there, her pussy wet and throbbing, watching the muscles in his back and shoulders contort as he lathered up his big hands. A scene reminiscent of a daydream, so surreal it seemed…and she loved that.
The music continued to play, and Ace took his post back by the dough mixture in the clear bowl. Standing there, now butt naked, he leisurely picked up his spoon and begun to stir. Without looking at her, he said ever so sweetly, “You can pre-heat the oven for me now, baby…”
~***~
Mr. Henderson adjusted his Rolex ever so effortlessly across his brown wrist. He sat at his desk, listening to the people mulling about outside of his office. His numbness was melting, exposing a simmering concern. He stared at his computer…and stared some more. He’d been sitting there for over an hour, thinking and growing weary. Then, the anger came. He read and re-read the emails from the man he’d hired, the notable Mr. Ace Blackstone. The man had been so helpful initially, even seeming sympathetic to his plight; then everything stopped, as if instantaneously frozen in time. He’d been given some half-assed report about the trail running cold, but this time, Mr. Henderson had done his own research. Mr. Blackstone was a pit-bull. A bit of a hermit, sly, intelligent, and had a commanding presence. He could see that
as soon as he met him.
Something had made the man run in the other direction, drop a one hundred thousand dollar investigation and disappear into thin air. Previously, Blackstone had sought him out, kept him abreast of the developments. However, not long after, Henderson discovered he was the initiator of the majority of the calls. And then, they all but stopped communicating. Blackstone turned into a phantom. Now, the detective’s correspondence was completely non-existent. He almost felt like an abandoned lover. Sucking his teeth, he shut his laptop down, leaned back in his seat, making the comfortable leather purr as he moved about, shifting his weight. He found himself gripping his desk, feeling like he was going to break the thing with his bare hands. The ten-year anniversary of his daughter’s disappearance had come and gone. This was the first time, in a long time, that he believed maybe she really was deceased…but why was Blackstone so quiet? Was he on to something but didn’t want to get his hopes up? Maybe…it was a possibility. At that notion, he relaxed a little.
Henderson had scoured the country for leads, placing her photo up with promises of an award. This had gone on since the day she disappeared, and his other two children felt neglected. He couldn’t stop though; he simply had to keep searching for his baby. Lynne was special…
All of his children were extraordinary, at least he believed so, but Lynne had a magic about her. For one, she looked like the spitting image of her mother — a beautiful woman he’d chased all over the state to have her hand in marriage. He knew one day, a man would do the same with his daughter, for hers was an undiscovered beauty that simmered just below the surface. Lynne also had the curiosity of a cat with nine lives. She’d been a precocious child, always asking, ‘Why?’ and ‘How does this work?’ She wanted answers. All. The. Time. She could be found behind an avalanche of books or periodicals, her nose pressed into the chunky computer monitor in her bedroom.
While other young ladies her age were boy crazy and purchasing bright red lipstick, Lynne spent time in the library with Harry Potter on one side, and the Law of Physics on the other. He loved this about the young child but, as she matured, things changed. Due to her good looks, which she appeared unmindful of and didn’t cultivate, she’d unknowingly garnered attention that he didn’t appreciate. She seemed unaware of the motivations of boys snooping around the house and calling to speak to her, but her naïveté just made her more endearing. He suspected this may have been part of her downfall, and his fault for sheltering her so. Though brilliant, surrounded by friends, witty and, by all appearances, able to take care of herself as she toured the world, she was still a quiet child who trusted far too easily.
She was a good, bright girl, and he just didn’t understand where his baby had gone to. Just when he was ready to throw in the towel, Blackstone’s cat and mouse game let him know there may be hope after all. He was never known to be a sitting stooge, and why should be begin now? He looked over to his left and ran his finger down his plane ticket, then stood and straightened his suit jacket. It was time to see firsthand what was going on in Chi-town…
~***~
Ace looped his arm inside of Brooklyn’s as they moved about the displays. For the life of him, he could not understand how she was supposed to be relaxing visiting yet another damn museum. She’d insisted upon it, stating she rarely got to visit The Art Institute of Chicago. They perused the art pieces, while she stopped and explained in detail each piece that struck her fancy.
“Like this right here, Ace.” She tugged on him as he daydreamed. A pregnant woman with a long, flowing green maternity shirt over stretched pants had caught his attention when he was supposed to be looking at the picture in question. “See how the couple in the painting have their backs to one another? But they are supposed to be in love. I like this, because it’s realistic and beautiful. The colors are fantastical, but the painting is so convincing. It takes your mind through a journey.”
“A journey? To where? The land of bullshit?” He looked back at it. “Looks like a rainbow colored unicorn took a dump on the fucking canvas and shit skittle-like turds.”
“Ace!” She reprimanded, smacking his shoulder in annoyance.
“Well hell, it does. I don’t like it.” He casually scratched his nose as they went on to the next piece.
“Now this is nice…” He paused and viewed the painting she was pointing at. In the center was a skull with a Mexican styled border and motif. “This reminds me of the Mayan art.” She shot him a glance from over her shoulder. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a fucking skull that is ablaze. Burning heads…Hey, do you like the ‘Talking Heads’? Good group. My dad had got me hip to them, but I only got into their music around last year. This painting right here could be like, the cover of their hit song, ‘Burning Down the House!’”
Brooklyn’s lips tightened and twisted as she angrily leaned back and crossed her arms, glaring at him.
Why stop now?
Ace began to sing, garnering unwanted attention, but he didn’t care.
“Burnin’ down tha house!” He began to bop and dance about, causing her to redden to the point he was certain she’d explode. This only spurred him on even further. “Wait ’til the Party’s Ova!”
“Oh, the party is definitely over, Ace!” She grabbed his arm, hauling him away like some used, stained mattress that she didn’t want anymore.
He couldn’t stop laughing and as he caught his reflection in another piece of art, he could see that he, too, had reddened. She got him alone, ready to lay into him when she, too, suddenly started laughing, veering unexpectedly off course. And with that, she’d fallen from reprimanding grace.
“You are impossible!” was all she could blurt out as she continued to shake with laughter and grip his elbow.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“No you’re not, Ace. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be mature enough to handle going to the art museum.”
“Right, that is why I have you…my adult escort.”
She grinned and turned quickly away from him. Grabbing her, he made her hold his hand as they continued to peruse the paintings and sculptures.
“Okay, now look at this, Ace.” She paused beside a grand painting, obviously not wanting to give up on him just yet. It took up practically the entire wall, depicting wild horses running alongside two Native Americans. “This painting is over three hundred years old. From the headdress and markings the artist painted on these two men, these are Cherokee Indians. What an amazing job and look how vibrant the paint still is, even after all this time?” She stood a bit closer to it, totally enthralled. “I’m certain it’s had some restoration… Do you know how long it would take an artist at that time to create something like this? Years!”
He simply stood there, frozen, his bottom lip twitching and his eye jumping. His breathing became choppy and harsh. Suddenly aware of his silence, she turned towards him.
“Ace?” She ran her hand lightly along his cheekbone. “Ace? Are you okay?” Not waiting for an answer, she took him by the hand and led him to a nearby bench. “What’s going on? Are you getting sick?”
“No…” He gripped her hand. “I’m okay now. I just needed to sit down.”
You said you wouldn’t lie to her anymore…
“Wait, that’s not true.” He turned towards her, glanced back at the painting, then looked into her eyes. He sniffed and took a deep breath. “Brooklyn, you know those nightmares you see me have sometimes?”
“Yes?”
“It’s always a bunch of horses…”
“Oh, Ace, I’m sorry!” She looked over her shoulder at the painting.
“I know it’s a bit confusing, since I like horses…go horseback riding. I’m actually drawn to them. The…the painting is beautiful, actually. It’s just so large, and there are so many of them; it looked almost exactly like my dream. I’m okay now…it’s just a painting.” He ran a trembling hand over his face.
“Baby, let’s get you something to drink. Come on
.” They stood from the bench and she slid her cellphone out of her pocket to check the time. “It’s almost lunchtime, anyway. They have a really nice restaurant here from a chef out of Spiaggia. Are you hungry?” She shot him a slight smile as he kept his head somewhat down, working on reeling himself back in.
“Yeah, I’m hungry,” was all he could muster.
Soon, they were sitting at the cream linen covered tables in the grand, high-ceilinged Terzo Piano Room while the scent of hot coffee tickled his senses. He ran his tongue along his dry lips and clasped his hands together. Fact of the matter was, he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He wouldn’t lie to the woman, but he sure as hell didn’t want to delve into that discussion. He’d talked it to death with Dr. Rose, and he saw it more nights than not. No. He was out with his girlfriend, relaxing and taking in some classic and modern art — no more wild, tromping horses, please.
“Uh, I think I should get a glass of wine…” he said, lifting a hand to get the waiter’s attention.
Just then, a woman in a wheel chair with her face wrapped in layers of white bandages rolled in. Despite her appearance and obvious ailments, she held her head high as she was escorted to a nearby table, close to a window. He and Brooklyn both glanced at her, then turned back towards one another.
“What are you thinking about her?” she asked with a coy grin. “What’s her story?” She took a sip of her water, then shot a look back at the subject of her question before turning her sights back to Ace.
Ace glanced at the woman briefly. “Well, she hasn’t been in an accident. That’s the result of plastic surgery. She is rich. She’s been wheel-chair bound since she was a child… See, her legs are much smaller than the rest of her body, denoting that they’ve never received the same muscle tone or exercise. She was born in money, had the best doctors, but she was probably always plain looking. Everyone, despite their physical limitations, wishes to feel good about themselves on some level.”
