Good Sensations

by S. L. Scott

  I’m mesmerized as she hooks her fingers into the sides of her panties and pulls them down. My erection presses uncomfortably against my trousers, so I shift. When she stands back up, she won’t look at me, her gaze aimed down… vulnerable.

  To be fair, I take my pants off and let them fall to the floor, and step out of them. Giving her a little peek-a-cock, I tease, then drop my boxers. My dick’s hard for her and I need relief. “Lay down at the bottom of the bed.” I sit on the end of my bed, matching her movements. I want the full show.

  She settles onto the mattress, close enough to the end, so I can see all of her clearly. Her eyes are open and watching me while her hand rubs lazily over her stomach. “I remember what it feels like to have your hands on me,” she says, turning her head so she can see me on the monitor.

  “I’m right here with you. My hands are on you,” I say, getting into the fantasy and moving my hand to where I need to feel her touch. I stroke my cock, but my attention is on her hand as she slides it between her legs.

  Her breathing deepens. “How do you want me?” I close my eyes, but force them open when she asks, “Like this? Do you like to touch me like this, babe?” Her fingers move with a slickness and I know she’s ready for me. Just like I’m ready for her.

  My grip tightens, and I pick up the pace. “I fucking love touching you like that,” I say, my breath becoming irregular. “But I don’t rush. I like to tease you first.”

  “I remember how much you like to tease. How do I feel wrapped around you right now? Is it the way you like?”

  The heaviness of her lids, mingling with the sexy voice and words, leaves me struggling to keep my own eyes open. Giving in, I drop my head down and start stroking hard, squeezing tighter, moving faster. “You always know how to make me feel good.” I can’t suppress my own moans. I want to take and give and fuck her senseless—all at once.

  I lift my head and watch her on the screen. She’s almost purring, her breath coming out jagged yet somehow smooth and melodious. Her fingers while her back arches up off the bed. She pleads, “I need more. I need all of you.”

  “I need you, too.” I need to feel her wetness surrounding me, my hand is a poor substitute, but I try to lose myself in the images and the memories of us together. “Don’t go easy. Fuck me. Give me everything.”

  “Evan.” She moans. “Keep talking. Just keep going.”

  “You feel so good wrapped around me—tight and wet. Fuck, baby. Fuck me. I need to hear you. Let me know how you feel.” I pump harder, getting close, but try to hold off until she comes first.

  Her words mix with heavy breaths as she says, “It’s all for you, only and always for you.”

  I look up grinning as I watch her getting herself off. She’s so damn sexy. Watching her is carnal, raw, real, and so much better than doing it alone in the shower.

  “Evan, I’m so close. I need to hear you, anything as long as it’s you.”

  “Slow down, sexygirl. Use your other hand where you want to feel me.”

  She slides her hand up her stomach to her left breast, her nipples ready to receive their share of attention. Scanning her body from tilted head to bent knees, my gaze travels to her thrusting hips, and fan-fucking-tasic tits, and lands on her face. She’s a goddess and she’s mine. A rage of possessiveness fills my chest. “Tell me you’re mine.” I gasp, feeling my insides wanting to come out. “Tell me, Mallory… Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

  Facing the camera, she watches me with a look I would call her own form of ownership, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. Staring into her eyes, I see the green that haunts my lonely days and star in my nightly dreams.

  I bend forward, the muscles in my stomach constricting, coaxing my climax out with a burst of unbridled want. “Aaaggghhh!”

  Her back relaxes down onto the mattress and the tension in her face eases. I suddenly feel I’m invading a private moment, like maybe I shouldn’t be privy to such an intimate recovery.

  “God, I needed that!” she exclaims with her arms wide open and to the side. She giggles. She fucking giggles, making me smile.

  Lying there, exhausted, I laugh—her laughter contagious. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  When I look up again, she’s rolled onto her side, her eyelids heavy and her sweet smile looking like it’s planning to stay there a while. “I’m definitely going to need a nap now.”

  I sit up. “I wish I was there.”

  “I wish you were here too. My bed is lonely.”

  “Only your bed?”

  She chuckles. “Maybe I’m a little lonely as well.”

  “Come New Years, you’re gonna be sick of me.”

  “Impossible.”

  Now I chuckle. “So you say now.”

  She lifts up, resting her head on her hand, her elbow pressing into the mattress. Her legs are crossed at the ankles and she’s beautiful like the first time I ever saw her… but without the defensive attitude. Okay, I wasn’t thinking words like beautiful back then. I was thinking she was a hot piece of ass that I wanted to conquer. Yeah, I was a shallow prick. But now when I look at her, I know she’s mine and her smile is comforting. I fucking love this girl.

  If my dad wasn’t receiving an award from the mayor himself, I’d blow off this event. But I’m expected to be there with the family to represent the company, so I shower and shave, then return to my closet to put on the tuxedo that was delivered to my apartment yesterday— a perfectly tailored white jacket… I sigh, rolling my eyes. “So fucking pretentious.”

  My hair is dried, my teeth brushed, and I leave. Mallory was losing the battle with a nap when we disconnected earlier, but we both left the video chat on a high. The car is waiting for me when I walk out the building. The door is held open by the chauffeur and I slide across the cold leather as the driver resumes his position up front. I don’t tell him where to go because all that information has been provided already.

  I’m not in the car but for a few minutes when my phone rings. I answer quickly when I see it’s Mallory calling. “I thought I wore you out?” I say, leaning back and getting comfortable, happy to hear from her again.

  “I should have told you sooner, but your mothe…” she starts to say, but hesitates. “Evan?”

  “Yes?” The world settles into a disheartening silence, but I can’t fill it. My heart begins to race waiting for her to continue.

  “If you meet someone… someone that interests you, you should—”

  No. No. “No. No! Why are you talking about meeting other people? Why are you saying this?” She’s giving me an out and I won’t let her. “No! Mallory, it’s you and me. Us. This is us. Remember? Please don’t say it.”

  Her voice is quiet, hard to hear over the noisy Manhattan traffic. “You need to know that I love you enough to let you go if you meet a more suitable partner.”

  “A more suitable partner? What the fuck? No! That’s like saying I don’t love you as much because I don’t want you to be with anyone else. I’m your suitable partner. You’re mine. So what you’re saying is bullshit because I love you more than I knew it was even possible to love someone. What brought this on? I just left. We were fine.” I know she can hear the panic in my voice.

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything, but as time passes, I keep wondering if she’s right.”

  “Who?” I sit straight up, listening to my world begin to crumble. “And right about what?”

  “Your mother. She only pointed out the obvious, Evan. You have so much to gain and achieve on top of the foundation your parents laid out for you and Kate. You deserve more than I can give—”

  “Stop it! I’m fucking serious, Mallory. Don’t say another fucking word.” Anger swells inside. I’ve got to see my mother right now. I pull at my too-fucking-short-to-give-me-any-relief-hair, then bang on the privacy glass. “Hang on, baby. Please.”

  When the glass rolls down, the driver asks, “Yes, Sir?”

  “How much further?”

 
; “We have one more stop.”

  “What stop?”

  “Another passenger, Sir.”

  Putting the phone back to my ear, I say, “I have to go, but this conversation is not over.”

  “Evan, just think about it. Think about what you really want in life.”

  The car pulls to the curb, and in one long breath, the words rush from my mouth, “I love you, Mallory. I need you to know that being with you earlier tonight was incredible. Really incredible.”

  “I love you, Evan. Please know that I do,” she says right before she hangs up.

  I pound the seat next to me. “Fuck!”

  The door opens and a woman—dressed to kill—bends down to get inside the car. The chauffeur takes her hand and helps her. The slit of her dress is high enough to reveal she’s not wearing anything underneath and apparently she’s not shy about it.

  She catches me staring and adjusts her dress as she smiles. “You must be Evan?” Her voice is friendly, but I’m still clueless to who she is and why we’re riding together.

  I offer a handshake. “Please accept my apologies, but I don’t know your name. I didn’t know there’d be anyone riding with me tonight.”

  “I’m Nina Devillier. Claire mentioned you’ve been busy with work and it might slip your mind.”

  Claire! Mother! Another fucking set-up. I should have known. I won’t be rude since she’s just a pawn in this game. “Of Devillier Industries in Lyon?”

  She holds my hand, and says, “Yes, that’s my grandfather’s business. Your father handles his portfolio.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about the company. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” I watch as she eases back into the seat with grace, keeping her posture perfect, accentuating her long neck. The way she moves is quite elegant, obviously surrounded by the finest in her upbringing. But the way she crosses her legs is suggestive in a most sexual insinuation. “You’re enjoying being back in Manhattan?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Not really.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. Business not going well?”

  “My girlfriend lives in Colorado.”

  “Ahh, I was under the impression you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

  I smile lightly. “My mother likes to ignore reality when it doesn’t align with her own motives.” My mother is definitely pulling out all the stops. She thinks she knows me, knows what I like, Nina fitting my old type to a tee: blonde, check; long legs, check; model body, check; polished, check; intelligent, check. I would say challenging, but there’s no challenge. I can see it in her eyes. My old arrogant ways resurface, knowing if I wanted I could have her before the entrée is served. But she’s no longer my type.

  Nodding, she sighs, “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. You’re just as handsome as she said you were.”

  Glancing over at her in the quiet of the car, I compare Nina to Mallory. They’re opposites. And while stunning, the woman next to me is nothing more than a quick fuck in coat check while Mallory is everything.

  “I’d like to hear about your girlfriend, if you want to share.”

  Taking a second look at Nina, she surprises me. She’s not the typical, shallow socialite I thought she’d be. She seems genuinely interested. “It’s complicated.”

  She looks out the window, and says, “We have a few more minutes before we get there.”

  I turn and look out my window. “Mallory is everything. She turns me on while turning my whole fucking life inside out. I’m frustrated, angry, and jealous of every guy who gets to see her every day. She makes me feel possessive and greedy,” I say with a chuckle and a shrug. “But I try to disguise it as protecting her best interest. I’m in lust with her and I’ve been in love with her from the minute I laid eyes on her. She’s gorgeous and so fucking smart. Mallory is my brand of beautiful.”

  When I look back at Nina, she’s staring with her mouth wide open.

  Suddenly a little embarrassed, I shake my head. “I sound nuts, but that’s what she does to me.”

  “I, um…” she gulps. “That was beautiful, Evan. Does she know all that?”

  “I tell her every chance I get.”

  She looks me straight in the eyes and says, “You should tell your mother because I wouldn’t be sitting here if she understood how you really feel.”

  My mother’s ploy to distract me from my girlfriend didn’t work. I can’t be tricked, tempted, threatened or lured because Mallory’s my soul mate; the other half of my heart, the missing puzzle piece…

  “Evan?”

  “Huh?”

  “We’re here. Are you ready to go in?”

  The car door opens, and I realize there’s a red carpet lined with photographers. Nina’s been too nice and it would be rude to make her walk it alone, so I decide to escort her inside. I pop out of the car right after her and offer her an arm. She smiles, taking hold of me, and we walk without stopping for photos.

  When we enter the crowded lobby, I lift up on my feet to look for my family, but I don’t see them.

  Nina releases my arm and says, “So I guess this is it.”

  “Guess so.”

  She sticks her hand out. “Well, it was very nice to meet you, Evan.”

  I take her hand and shake it. “You too.”

  “Your girlfriend is a very lucky lady.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, “but I’m the lucky one.”

  With a smile, she walks away, and I head straight into the banquet to find my family.

  When I spot their table, I head over. Lacey sees me first and turns her head in disgust, which gets Kate’s attention. She stands, hugs me tight, and whispers into my ear, “Play nice tonight, baby brother.”

  I don’t bother whispering. “I came to play alright, but I won’t be playing nice.” I leave her standing there, her expression volleying between concern and curiosity.

  I need to find my mother. Right. The. Fuck. Now.

  When I turn around, I see her in the far corner near the bar surrounded by a group of women and stalk straight for her. I make my way through the crowded room ignoring the ‘Hello’s’ and the ‘Hey Evan’s’ I hear as I move across the room.

  “Ashford? Over here.”

  I turn to see Landon and Hamilton with smug grins on their faces. “Why’d you pussy out that night?”

  For guys that are supposedly considered sophisticated, they sure are a bunch of wankers. I flip’em off and keep walking.

  My mother eyes’ flash to mine as she continues into whatever story she’s feeding the envious junior league socialites around her. Although her mouth is smiling, her eyes give her away. She knows something’s wrong and I don’t bother hiding the fact that I’m pissed as hell.

  Without stopping, I take her by the elbow and pull her out through some nearby doors that lead to the large balcony.

  “What are you doing, Evan? Let go of me right now!” she protests.

  Releasing her, I say, “No more, Mother! No. More.”

  She sighs as if I’m throwing a childish temper tantrum. “What are you upset about?” She puts her hands on her hips.

  “Nina Devillier. The others. Your persistent interference in my life. The list goes on—”

  “Well,” she says, huffing for added drama. “I’m so sorry that I have an interest in your future—”

  “No, you have an obsession, but I’m not your puppet. You can’t flash pretty women in front of me like a squeaky toy for a dog. I’m not that stupid. You’ve made it more than clear who you’d like me attached to. Well, it’s not gonna happen. I’ll choose Mallory every damn time and the sooner you come to accept that the sooner we might be able to have a relationship again. But you’ve damaged us and that will take time no matter what.”

  “Evan, please don’t do this. Look at how well you’ve done since you’ve been back in New York and that was when you weren’t even trying. You’re a natural. You were born to lead this company and if you put your heart into Ashford Holding
s, you could have anything and anyone you want—”

  “That’s just it. My heart’s not in this. Yes, I’ll finish what I started and what I promised Dad, but I won’t stay on. I’m moving to Colorado after Christmas. I’m finishing my degree in Psychology and I’m going to be with Mallory. I’m not asking for your permission or holding out for your blessing. If you want to cut me off, go ahead, but I won’t let you control me any longer.”

  I’ve said all I need to say, all she deserves to hear, so I turn on my heel and leave her standing there in the cold calling my name.

  As I mindlessly work my way back through this crowd I could care less about, I realize everything I knew is true. This city will destroy me if I let it. I’ve got to get the fuck outta here as fast as I can. I push open the double doors and keep walking.

  “Evan? Evan? Stop!” Kate calls from somewhere behind me. I don’t turn back and eventually her voice, like the music from the party, and the chatter of the crowd, fades away.

  Thanksgiving came and went, uneventful and somewhat depressing. I didn’t feel thankful. I felt lonely. My resolve for Mallory was set. But the waiting to be with her again was wearing thin. I would’ve joined my family for dinner, but wasn’t in the mood for another lecture on family duty and future potential. Kate brought me a plate and Helga brought me a piece of pie, which was nice, but that was the extent of my celebration.

  Black Friday.

  The weight of the name alone hunkers down on me, so I go into the office and put in a full work day when everyone else is off. It keeps my mind occupied for at least 9 hours, providing a mental reprieve from when I’m at home alone.

  After work, I go for a run. It’s become a normal part of my routine. It’s a chilly fall day, which suits my mood better. But the unwanted and unsolicited attention of the women here in Manhattan is exhausting. In other words, it’s hard to be faithful when opportunity is constantly presented to you on a silver platter. Even Central Park has become one giant pick-up joint.