And I nodded. Yeah, I’d dated Alexandria before settling down with Vivian, and six years sounded about right.
“Guess life repeats itself, huh?” I ground out.
“Oh yes, it does indeed,” she purred meaningfully, running a long red nail down my sleeve. At that moment, the hostess called our name, leading us to the table, but like I said, Alexandria hasn’t changed at all.
“We can’t sit here!” she exclaimed, looking down at the table. It was set beautifully with white linen and a bouquet of flowers, silverware sparkling in the low light. There was nothing wrong. But Alexandria purred, “I want to be out in the open, you know see and be seen.”
And my stomach dropped. Fuck, this was one of the reasons why I’d stopped seeing the blonde, this need to be seen at all the right places, the right events, groomed to the nines on the arm of a powerful man. Couldn’t we just have a nice dinner in the corner? There was a beautiful view of the water, stars sparkling in the twilight.
But Alexandria wasn’t one for natural beauty, she was a social vampire and nothing but “the best” was enough her. So I turned to the hostess and pressed a fifty into her hand.
“Another table?” I rumbled.
And the woman’s eyes lit up.
“Of course, of course, let me see what else there is,” she said, looking around the restaurant. Fortunately it was pretty empty and she led us over a huge table right in the middle where you had a clear view of all the guests, a three sixty sightline.
“Oh this is perfect!” gushed Alexandria. “Thank you so much.”
And I grunted, settling into the booth. This dinner was gonna be fucking painful, I could tell, dating is overrated. But I forced myself to eat and talk, looking exactly like an alpha enjoying himself with a beautiful woman.
“And then,” Alexandria said, leaning over conspiratorially, “Patty was locked in the bathroom, did you hear?”
I shook my head. Honestly the blonde’s babble was so annoying, like a bee that never stopped buzzing, and I’d tuned her out, nodding at all the right moments, but barely responsive.
“Oh you!” she breathed. “Of course you heard, Patty Martin was locked into her bathroom by her own husband because he suspected her of cheating with Grady Owens, his frat brother from college. Isn’t that so juicy? Oh my god!” she squealed.
I forced myself to look interested although this women’s gossip was so fucking boring.
“Oh really? How did he know she was cheating?” I asked smoothly.
“I told you!” Alexandria squealed once more. “He found a pair of boxers in their laundry basket with another man’s semen stains!” she chortled, laughing so hard.
This was fucking disgusting on so many levels. First, the thought of another guy’s dirty laundry was just fucked up, that shit was nasty. Second, semen stains? Who the fuck was dumb enough to chuck that into someone else’s laundry? And last, Alexandria herself, the dumb bitch was cackling loudly at her “friend’s” misfortune, relishing this Patty person’s problems. Even though I’m no angel, at least I keep to myself instead of busting up like a barrel of monkeys in the middle of a nice restaurant.
Because other patrons were turning to look at us now, the blonde’s laughter so raucous, so loud that they couldn’t help but glance over. And Alexandria made the most of it, leaning in close to me, bending that blonde head towards mine to make it look like we were in love, a gorgeous couple dressed right, eating at the right place, powerful and wealthy.
“It’s so nice to be back together, isn’t it Pete?” she cooed, stroking my arm with those red nails.
Bile rose in my throat then, a nasty taste in my mouth because this woman was the opposite of sexy, someone who drained me of all energy. But I forced myself to keep up the farce, to smile and say smoothly, “Of course, it’s nice to spend time together again.”
And she tossed her hair back flirtatiously then, green eyes gleaming like a cat.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” she cooed. “Like soon, real soon.”
My blood curdled, this woman would hunt me for dinner if she could, eating my bank account as dessert. So I made excuses.
“We’ll see,” I rumbled. “My daughter needs a lot these days, I’m a single dad now.”
And Alexandria laughed lightly.
“Oh I know all about kids!” she jested. “They love me, they love Aunty Alex.”
I shook my head with disbelief. There was no way kids liked her, it’s more like they ran screaming when they saw the Wicked Witch of the West with her fanged smile and pointy hat. But I nodded, giving nothing away.
“Sure you do, sure you do,” I rumbled. “Check please.”
And the waiter, ever accommodating, immediately nodded and scurried off to do my bidding. I leaned back in my chair, picking up the cloth napkin and putting it on the table. God, this dinner had been horrendous, really painful, and I was looking forward to getting back and seeing Mandy. I mean, seeing Violet. Right, my daughter, not the babysitter.
But unbelievably, there was a touch on my knee under the table.
“Wanna play tonight?” cooed Alexandria, looking up at me flirtatiously through her lashes. “Wanna play, big boy?”
I shook my head, trying not to look disgusted because the waiter had just come back with our tab and overheard every word of her come-on. I waited until he left, and then covered her hand with my own, stopping its ascent up my knee.
“Not tonight, baby, not tonight,” I rumbled. “I have an early meeting tomorrow morning, this isn’t a good time.”
Alexandria just cooed again.
“Oh you, men always have to work,” she gushed. “Well, next time then. How about tomorrow?” she asked, eyes sparkling brightly, conniving.
And I shook my head imperceptibly.
“Sorry babe, got a packed week ahead. I’ll call you,” I said with finality. And with that, I stood, ushering the blonde out of the restaurant, heads turning as we made our way to the door. I have to admit that we were a sight to see, both of us tall, physically attractive, Alexandria wearing obviously expensive clothes and jewelry, her face made-up like a doll. But all I wanted was someone natural, a little less calculating, with no agenda. Someone innocent and sweet, with a good heart and gentle disposition. And I had a feeling that someone was at my house right now … waiting for me to come home.
CHAPTER THREE
Mandy
It was exhausting getting Violet to bed, I admit. I’ve been babysitting the little girl for years, but in my four months away she’d become a handful.
“No Mandy,” she commanded imperiously, small voice firm. “You.”
I sighed again.
“Violet honey, this is your bed, I don’t sleep here, remember? I stay with my mom and dad at another house.”
And the little girl’s eyes began welling, bottom lip trembling, blue eyes so sorrowful it tore at my heart.
“Mandy, you!” she begged again.
This time, I gave in. God knows the little tyke had had enough upheaval recently, so I rested my head for a minute on the pillow next to hers, relaxing.
“Shhh,” I said in a soothing voice. “Okay, I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”
And the little girl cuddled up next to me, teddy clutched in her hands.
“Sing,” she said in a small voice. And obediently, I began to hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star softly, repeating until her breathing stilled, calming, the little body no longer tense. Poor thing. I really loved her, she was practically my baby, I’d known her since birth, watching her grow.
But I couldn’t stay in the small child’s bed all night, so I made myself get up and stretch. Violet’s room was decorated beautifully with lavender walls and stickers of the moon and stars that glowed-in-the-dark, perfect for a growing girl. And the books on the shelf were age appropriate, her toys right for a five year-old. Had Pete chosen those out for his daughter? He must have been spending a lot of time, picking up the slack now that the old nanny was gone.
As I wandered out into the hall, I let out another yawn. Finals had been tough, really challenging. College was kind of a toss-up for me. On the one hand, I should have been ecstatic, I got into my first choice school, a place with name recognition up the wazoo and brand prestige. But that stuff only goes so far because just like any other school, there were so many powerpoint lectures, slides that seemed to go on forever, and teachers that couldn’t even teach, they were hired for their research skills, not their ability to connect with undergrads.
But I scolded myself. I was lucky to be in college, and it was just finals that was doing this to me. I was worn out from weeks of stress and studying, and Mr. Parker had called my parents’ house the day that I got back about babysitting. I was just tired, that was all, and a bubble bath would soothe my achy muscles, dispel the tension in my back.
I glanced at my watch. Oh good, it was only eight, Mr. Parker had said he needed my services until nine. So I had plenty of time to get naked and relax, enjoy myself for an hour before heading home.
So wandering down the hallway, I came to ornate double doors that indicated the master bedroom suite. Oh my god, should I take a bath in his room? The thought titillated me, being in his private space, using the same soap and shampoo that the alpha male sudsed himself with.
But something stopped me. Maybe it was knowing that his ex-wife had once lived there, maybe it was my virginal instincts, but my hand paused on the knob, hesitating. Better not. Better to find another bathroom, there were plenty in this giant mansion.
So I tiptoed down the hall some more before coming to a guest suite, slowly creaking open the door. Oh, this was perfect. The bedroom was dark so I couldn’t see much except for a big bed and some looming, ominous furniture, but that didn’t matter. I padded softly through the room to the en suite and flipped the switch there, the lights coming on bright with a slight hum.
It was perfect. A huge garden tub sprawled in the corner, shiny and unused, with a separate shower on the other side. Just like everything in this house, the fixtures were ornate, the spigot a glossy gold color, the tub porcelain and bright white, almost blinding me.
And sighing with relief, I stripped. I wriggled out of my sweater, throwing it into a corner, and jumped a bit to get my skirt over my hips. Oh yeah, I’d put on significant weight in the past year and the freshman fifteen had come entirely in the first semester for me. So yeah, if I didn’t watch it, a new wardrobe would be in order.
But it was okay. Years of being twig-like made me appreciate my bountiful figure all the more, and I stared at myself in the mirror, eyes taking in my curvy form. Because yeah, I was wearing the sexiest, slinkiest bra and panty set ever. Blush pink with lace trimming the edges, the set was so sheer that you could see the dark imprints of my areola underneath, the plush lips of my labia outlined clearly. So with sensual hands, I unsnapped my bra, slipping the straps over my shoulders until the cups fell off, revealing my giant breasts, and slowly stepped out of my panties, pulling them off until my pink cunt was revealed.
God, the physical transformation had been amazing. I was white and pink all over, my nether regions glossy and slick and tentatively, I ran a finger between my legs. Yep, it came away slightly juicy. I didn’t know what was wrong with me these days, I was no longer the studious high school student with her head stuck in the books all the time. Instead, I was often so wet that I had to change my panties two or three times a day just so my fellow students didn’t smell my constant arousal, the sensuous female in their midst.
But it was time to let loose here in complete privacy, and not to worry about who was where thinking what. So I turned on the spigot and a hot, white gush of bubbles streamed out. I looked around haphazardly, under the sink, in the medicine cabinet, hoping against hope. Nah, there’d be no bubble bath formula in a guest bathroom, there was probably nothing since no one lived here. I’d have to make do with some water, and the little bit of hand soap over by the sink. But hey, the soap was some fancy French stuff and I pumped a couple squirts from the dispenser, the pearly liquid bubbling for a moment before dissipating. Okay, there’d be no foam, but at least the water was slick now, giving the bath a luxurious, sensual feel.
And pinning my hair up, I stepped in. Oh god, the warm water felt so good, lapping against my muscles, immediately soothing me. It was like I was immersed in a slick ocean, the water buffeting my form, caressing me in every direction. My boobs bobbled in the waves, only half hidden, my pink areola peeking out, and the warm liquid caressed my folds down below.
Leaning back, my head settled comfortably into the built-in headrest. I sighed. God, this was the life. What would it be like to live here full-time, to have a man like Mr. Parker coming home each evening, eating dinner together, playing with Violet before turning in for a scorching night of love? That sounded like pure heaven to me, like a dream come true, something I could only fantasize about.
And the beauty of fantasies is that they can be vivid, so I let my imagination run. Because sure, I’m a virgin but that doesn’t mean I don’t have fun on my own, there are all sorts of personal toys that I use when the need begins to burn. And being here, in Mr. Parker’s house had its own titillating edge that sent shivers down my spine.
So slowly, I parted my thighs, resting one pink, manicured foot on each edge of the tub, white legs falling apart to reveal my secret parts within. The water had little ripples, kind of like a funhouse mirror, but I could see my cunt and how it was swollen already, pink and luscious. I leaned forward to crane my head over my breasts and tantalizingly ran a finger up my thigh to stroke the crease between my leg and pussy. Mmm, that felt good.
Slowly my finger quested higher until it was tracing over my labia. Oh god, yes, the flesh grew more engorged, my lips puffing up until they were practically double their previous size, pale yet peachy at once. But it’s my clit that I’m most proud of. Because I have a huge one, when it’s aroused it literally pokes out from between my pussy folds and right now the tip was clearly visible, pulsing and throbbing, I could almost feel my heartbeat in the sensitive nub.
So with delicate fingers, I pulled my vagina apart, gazing deep down into that pink channel. Fuck, I was so wet and it wasn’t just the water. My clit pulsed harder, literally waving and bobbing now and when I brushed it with one finger, my body jerked, it felt so fucking good. Oh god, oh god, I was so aroused, so delirious from just a brush of my fingers, a little sensuous massage. My head fell back as one hand played with my pussy the other stroking a breast, pinching hard at a nipple, squeezing the soft white flesh.
Mr. Parker, I dreamed. Mmm, oh yeah. I pretended he was here with me, hot eyes on my curvy body as I pleasured myself in his guest bathroom, moaning slightly at the thought of the huge male form in this small space, filling it up, his musk a spice in the air, making me swoon with desire.
And desperate for more, I decided to take it one step further. Hey, I was in luxurious surroundings and wanted to use everything available to me. This was such a far cry from the cramped dorm shower stalls that it was time to explore, be adventurous. So with one toe, I flicked on the spigot once more, a gush of water rushing out, and scooted forward on my butt until my pussy was right under the spray. Oh yeah, that felt good. The bubbles were arousing, the swirl of the water so tantalizing on my sensitive flesh that I moaned loudly, throwing my head back, eyes half-closed. What would it be like to feel Mr. Parker’s fingers on my cunt, exploring those soft folds, running wetly through my most sensitive part?
But it wasn’t enough. I needed more pressure, I needed to feel the spray of water right against my privates. So I leaned back, bracing myself on the tub bottom, and canted my hips upwards until my pussy lifted out of the water and the rush of liquid flowed right down on my clit. Oh fuck, that was good. Now the waterfall rained onto my hotly swollen pussy and my cunt began beating, small twitches at first, my moans growing louder, literally echoing through the small chamber. Again, I was no longer in the dorms, afraid of other pe
ople hearing, so I let loose, heavy panting rising into high-pitched whines with every passing second.
Oh god, oh god, it felt so fucking amazing. But this was such an awkward position and I’m a big girl now, I can’t balance on my hands forever. So I sat back down, the water buoying me lightly, caressing my curves, my ass coming to rest on the porcelain once more. I wanted more, was desperate for more, but how to get it? Suddenly, something caught my eye. Holy cow, could it be true? Why hadn’t I noticed before? Because right next to the spigot was a removable shower head, the kind that you can hold in your hand while you spray yourself, rinse yourself off.
And practically purring now, I reached for it, taking it off its holder and caressing it with my hand. Oh fuck yes. This was exactly what I needed in more ways than one. Because not only could I use it to direct water straight at my cunt, but I could also fuck myself with the shower head if need be, I could caress my clit with it, stick it up my hot passage. So with a naughty smile, I flicked on the spigot once more, this time pressing the button that indicated shower. And with a muted gurgle, the head came on, blasting me.
Oh shit, the water was cold, and I jolted back for a moment. But within seconds, the water warmed and I adjusted the spray until the pressure was just right, a thin stream of liquid pulsing from the center of the head. Delicately sitting back once more, I raised my hips again so they were just at water level and pointed the golden tool at my pussy, water spraying relentlessly.
Oh god, oh god, fuck yes, this was it. The water felt so good and I reached my other hand between my legs to spread my labia so that the spray could pound my clit, massaging me, making me whine and wriggle in the bath. Oh god, it was so slippery, nub pulsing with arousal, nipples about to burst, they were so hard and sensitized.
But it was the feeling in my cunt that drove me over the edge. The spray was so fucking good, making my clit shiver and twitch, and I pulled the shower head even closer to my pussy until I was blasting myself from only inches away. Mr. Parker, I moaned slightly, my lips parting to speak his name. Mr. Parker, Mr. Parker, I moaned over and over again, the syllables feeling so right on my lips as I dreamed of the big man, pretending he was there in the bathroom with me, watching me frig myself to heaven.
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