by Omar Tyree
“Only because it’s true. Your hands are like magic, soft tips but strong fingers.”
“That’s from my occupation, all keyboard, pens, pencils and paper. There’s no heavy lifting here.”
“What about carrying boxes of books?”
Vincent frowned. “Are you kidding me? I have assistants for that.”
He moved his hands down to her shoulders.
“So, you’ve never carried a box of books before?”
“Yeah, of course, a dozen years ago. I had to put in my dues like everyone else.”
He slid his soft hands down into her shoulder blades.
“Mmmph,” she moaned again. “I needed this so bad.”
He grinned and kept working. “So, you really like Antonio?” he asked her.
“Yes, he has potential,” she responded with Vincent’s hands pushing deep into her back muscles. He knew just where to touch her and how.
“You mean for the look and not the work?” he reflected from their earlier conversation.
“Getting the work together is your part. So, you do your part and I’ll do mine. Same as with Darlene,” she added.
“And how much would it cost us for a double dose of publicity for both of them?”
Lauren squeezed her eyes shut and arched her body upward as Vincent reached her lower back with his magically soft but strong hands and fingers.
“We work it out as usual,” she moaned to him, loving his handiwork.
Vincent couldn’t help but imagine how she would react to him if he ever took the chance to work her with his slow, stroking penis. She would probably cry, like Stella’s Groove and become addicted to that too, he assumed. But then she may become too clingy and screw up our work relationship. This, however, has only made it better, he convinced himself as he worked his fingers into her lower hips and soft ass.
“Is your ass hurting from sitting down today?” he asked her.
“Ooohhh, yesss,” she moaned.
Vincent smiled and kept going with it. He only stopped to apply fresh oil to his hands before he worked his fingers and hands into her thighs.
“Have you walked a lot today?”
“Yessss,” she hissed.
“Are your toes and ankles hurting from your shoes?”
“Of courrrse.”
“You want me to do those too?”
“Mmmm hmmm.”
It was more of their satisfying ritual. Lauren loved when he talked her through it.
“Have you missed these magic hands?” he asked her.
“Have I ever?” she responded. “Why, of course.”
All the while, Vincent continued to be tickled by their secret relationship. No one seemed to have a clue that they were so close. He preferred it that way, and so did she. It was one of the many things they had in common, along with them both being married to their work. Neither of them felt any pressure together. So it was perfect, like Vincent’s magic hands, and Lauren’s beautifully curved body.
The word perfect also described Antonio’s urgent and accurate stroke into Darlene’s firm, wet pussy. Her smooth treasure seemed like a perfect fit for him, as well as her hand and body movements, and her steady verbal coaching.
“Oooh, Tony, yeeeah. Right therrre. Yeeeaaah, like that!” she urged him on.
Antonio felt so damn good with every single stroke that he felt like crying.
Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! he thought to himself without voicing it. He was concentrating too hard to say much of anything. He didn’t know what to say anyway, other than to thank God. God had sent him down an angel; an angel who he could fuck on the second night, and fuck her well. And fuck her hard. And fuck her long. Or at least he hoped that he could. He was trying his hardest to make it last. That’s why he forced himself not to say anything. He felt that even the slightest moan or groan would bring him to an explosive and early climax. So he allowed Darlene to do all of the talking, Darlene and her cheap, squeaky hotel room bed that continued to tell on them.
Darlene suddenly gripped him into stillness with both of her arms, wrapping them tightly around his neck as she came hard. Tony could feel her body trembling beneath him, as she gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut in silence.
“Are you coming?” he whispered to her to make sure.
Even her voice trembled in her response to him, “Mmmm hmmmmm.”
Thank God! Antonio prayed of his pleasing her. I’m in love! I’m in LOVE! he told himself as she started up a slow stroke again. He could feel the looseness between them as he slipped and slid deep inside of her.
Darlene kissed him and bit his lip gently. Then she shook her head against his. “You deserve me,” she told him. “You deserve me.”
“Thank you,” Antonio whispered back. “And you deserve me.” But he was far from finished with her yet. With her new looseness, his stroke became even quicker, slipping and sliding like a lollipop to wet lips.
Oh, I’m in heaven! Antonio told himself. I’m in HEAVEN!
Darlene continued to hold on tight and kiss him, enjoying the ride with no complaints as he stroked her so honestly. There was nothing but purity in his stroke, the kind that all women desired, where a man truly and dearly cared for her. It was the kind of stroke where he wanted to melt his body into hers and become one with her. It was the kind of stroke where people talked about spirits intertwining forever. Antonio would forever be a part of Darlene now, and Darlene would forever be a part of Antonio.
She intertwined her fingers into his and attempted to lock their ankles under the sheets.
This is so incredible, she told herself. I’m so happy that I did it. There’s no reason to wait. We can do it all night . . . And he better treat me good afterwards. He just better!
She didn’t even care about all of the noise that they were making in the cheap bed. The hotel guests could enjoy the freak show.
Who cares? she asked herself. Everyone wants good lovemaking.
Speaking of lovemaking, Susan Randolph was ready and willing, but it didn’t look as if she would be making love anytime soon. Nothing makes a woman feel more lonesome than watching a movie alone on a Friday night. So she was ready to enjoy good masculine company however she could get it. But once she had finished watching Thor and walked out of the theater, she texted and called Jackson/Nikola for no response. And that was nearly an hour ago.
She sighed as she headed back to the hotel from the Times Square area. I guess he’s still hanging out with his family, she assumed. But she remained curious.
What if he met another fluzzy or two who wanted to go up to his room tonight? And what if he decided not to call me back at all? she wondered. It’s not as if I gave him any promises that I would be willing to do anything. And for the most part, I didn’t plan to. But now . . . I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It’s not as if we hadn’t been intimate before.
She began to feel antsy as she walked back into The Millennium Hotel and toward the elevators. It was an empty hallway again. And this time there was no old businessman to jump into the doors at the last minute.
So Susan rode back up to the twenty-second floor and walked off the elevator toward Jackson’s room before stopping herself with a sudden paused.
“Maybe they shouldn’t have even had us in the same hotel,” she mumbled of the proximity. Her room was on the eighteenth floor.
Finally she decided to go through with it. I’m quite sure he’s still with his family, she tried to convince herself. She approached his room quickly as opposed to slow and apprehensively, just to get it over with. And she heard her confirmation as soon as she reached the door.
“Oooh . . . oooh . . . oooh . . .”
Shocked by it, she took a deep breath and pulled away. Then she decided to give it a second listen to make sure that she had heard what she thought she heard.
“Ohhh, yeeaah. Ooohh, yeaaah. Oooohh . . .”
The moaning had obviously intensified. Susan took another breath and felt li
ke beating on the door again, like the night before. But it was already too late. Jackson was enjoying his popularity.
What he’s only another porno movie, she humored herself. But she knew better than that.
Heartbroken, she figured it was time to cut the damn charades. “Like he said, I have to look at it from his angle,” she grumbled as she walked away from the room. “So I hope he’s having his fun.”
As she headed back to the elevators to ride it down to her own floor, Susan felt lonely, deceived and . . . vengeful.
I could really let him fall on his face after this, because I know he’s gonna need my help to bail him out of a jam, she assumed, as she pressed the down botton to await the elevator. But vengeance wasn’t her way. Susan was a peace loving woman. And when the elevator finally arrived to take her away, she quickly stepped back on and felt sorry for herself instead.
“It was my fault,” she mumbled softly. “I chose to get involved with him.” But at least now I finally get to move on from my mistake, she told herself. I’ll no longer be his flunky or anything close to it.
Read the next exciting, raw and unedited chapter
of CORRUPTED
a serial ebook by Omar Tyree
on Friday, September 9nd
and the Friday after that
and the Friday after that . . .
Then leave your comments @ www.OmarTyree.com . . .
