by Zane
He waits for some spiritual response while the road ahead begins to shine with the new-fallen rain. He waits for something, anything, that would persuade him that the single greatest mistake in the history of huge mistakes is about to be committed. He waits, and as he waits, he remembers how soft and sensual her voice sounded over the phone.
“Will you come, please? I need to see you,” she had said.
That phrase spoken by anyone else could have meant anything other than what it meant as the words slipped from her lips. He knew what time it was. He knew what she was asking. The time for kids’ games and playful flirting had just taken the leap over that dreaded line of no return. Those spoken words had signified that. She was ready to have him. And he wanted her just as badly. The cold, hard admission of truth simultaneously sends a heat wave through his chest, down into his crotch, and a cold chill up his back and around his shoulder blades. He flinches.
“Holy shit. I’m really gonna do this! This can’t be real. I’m actually gonna go through with this.”
Light rain becomes steady rain. Marcus thumbs the knob for the wipers, and watches as the blades rotate back and forth. Mack Avenue exit ahead. Twenty minutes to go, still enough time to change his mind. As if by magic, his mind’s eye focuses on the casual dress she’d worn today. The low-cut yet tactful trim of the box neck accenting the beautiful, natural curve of her neck, underneath the long dark locks of her silky hair. Her skin was smooth and the perfect shade of golden butter pecan. There were days when he’d imagined creeping up on her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, and gently kissing the nape of her neck. He could see the perfect curve of her bosom as the dress sashayed from left to right as she walked by him in the aisleway of the copy room. Marcus could feel his member pressing harder against his cotton boxers as he focused on the perfect shape of her behind, the way the dress simply slipped off the peak.
Her smile was intoxicating. He loved the look of her full lips but it was her eyes that captivated him. One stern look into her deep brown stare always seemed to make the backs of his knees lose strength. It wasn’t just one feature of this woman that entrapped him, it was the entire package. Marcus was in the moment now. The point of no return had been crossed over. There would be no turning back. He was going to do what he’d never dreamt possible before this day.
“Will you come, please? I need to see you,” she had said.
Behind the wheel of the speeding Mustang, Marcus replies, “I’m comin’, babe. I’m comin’. I am on the way.”
The rainfall picks up speed as Marcus passes by the I-94 interchange. The soothing sensation slowly takes on a raging storm effect. Visibility quickly decreases, and he downshifts for safety. That’s when Mia pops up inside of his head. Goddamn if that wasn’t the mind’s conscience at work, as if the onslaught of rain had somehow forced him to suddenly remember the oath he’d given to his fiancée. He thought about what he’d told her right after Veronica’s call.
“Emergency meeting over in Ann Arbor, baby. Some new development after the associates’ meeting. I’ll call as soon as I get back into town.”
The words had dropped from his lips as if he was a seasoned liar. Why not, he’s paid well to sell people. It’s his job, and he’s good at it. The majority of his clients have already made up their minds by the time Marcus is brought into dealings. His quick wit had closed many deals, changed hundreds of minds, and sold people on what they wanted to hear. Why should his fiancée be any different? She’d told him that she loved him. Ouch. Damn, that thought comes out of the dark like a blind fist, smacking him so hard upside the head that he actually lifts his foot off the gas pedal.
“This is wrong. She’s gorgeous, but is she worth it?”
That’s when the phone vibrates on his left hip. Startling the hell out of him, he swerves slightly. Regaining control of the ’stang, he reaches for the Bluetooth earpiece protruding from his left ear, and taps the call button. An audible, soft beep sounds off and then…
“Hello?”
There is a silence on the other end that seems to last a dog’s age. He knows who it is. Still he plays it cool—despite the sweat forming under his arms. The rain is full throttle outside the car now, and lightning has joined nature’s dance.
“Hello, is anybody—”
“Hi, papi,” she says timidly. It would have been hilarious, actually, considering the type of woman she carries herself as during office hours. His heart skips a beat, instantly taking him back to junior high school and his first real date behind his parents’ backs.
“Hey,” he replies, struggling to contain his composure. “I’m on the way, Ronnie. I should be there in—”
“Mark…what are we doing? Are you okay with this? At this point, there’s really no need to…listen to me. I’m babbling like a schoolgirl on her first date,” she jokes.
“Hey, that’s funny, ’cause I swear I was just thinking the same thing about myself,” Marcus replies.
That awkward moment of silence bridges the gap between small talk and the nitty-gritty. This time, it’s Marcus who steps up. He admits to himself right here. The two of them had danced around this for months now, both secretly hoping and lusting for things to take a turn toward that forbidden place. That time was here. That time was now. Marcus takes in a deep breath. His shaking hands steady, his throbbing heart slows ever so slightly. He focuses on the road sign ahead: DAVISON FWY—not too far now.
“Veronica, I’ve gotta be honest with you and I expect you to be honest with me. I’ve wanted this for quite some time now. I’ve been telling myself that it’s the wrong thing for me to do, for all the right reasons, and still I lie down each night clinging to whatever words were spoken between us during the course of the day. I think about the smell of your perfume as you walk by me—it lingers in the air long after you’ve left the room. I see the look in your eyes staring at me that way, when no one’s around. And I have to admit, the day you brushed by me in the conference room as we moved past Mr. Jenkins—”
Veronica chimed in, “I know, Mark. I probably shouldn’t have touched you, but…it was one of those moments, you know? I didn’t realize what I was doing until it happened. Guess that’s really when I admitted to myself how much I liked you.”
“That was probably the defining moment for me, too. I didn’t want to admit it. Call it lust or whatever you wanna call it. That was it for me,” Marcus said.
Veronica sighs. She speaks in that sexy voice that Marcus has come to hear in his sleep.
“Well, that makes me feel better about going out and spending money on…you’ll see, Mr. Jackson. I want you to know that this isn’t the norm for me, Marcus. This is somewhat special for me. This isn’t something that I regularly do. Me being your boss and all, the whole situation is damn near the perfect drama. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t forcing you into a situation that you really weren’t prepared for. Do you know what we’re doing?”
Marcus shakes his head as he answers her question. “We are two grown people who know exactly what we’re doing. So of course it doesn’t make any sense, boss. But it feels right, so what else can we do about it? Call it an act of nature.”
“What about—” Veronica starts.
“I don’t want to think about her right now. She has nothing to do with us. Can you handle that?” he says.
His confidence is building. She seems vulnerable now. There is another long pause. Marcus watches the road; he barrels up I-75 at ninety miles per hour, passing the I-696 interchange. His adrenaline is high. What is she wearing at this moment? How long would it take to undress her? How much time would they have? What is Mia thinking right now?
“No!” he yells out, shaking the last thought.
“Are you alright, Mark? What’s going on?” Veronica asks.
“Nothing. Everything is as it should be. I should be there shortly. Do I need to pick up anything?” Marcus asks.
“Just yourself, hon. Just yourself. I’ll leave the back doo
r open for you. Hurry,” she closes in that sultry, sensuous voice.
Marcus’s member throbs so hard, it begins to ache. “My God, I’m gonna do this,” he pronounces. Outside, the rain continues to punish the pavement around the Mustang as it veers off the eastbound Big Beaver ramp.
Moments later, Marcus makes a right turn onto Athena Drive, and there it is, just the way she’d described it, two houses up the block, on the left. He slowly pulls into the driveway, parking alongside the cream-colored luxury sedan he’d seen pull into the executive lot hundreds of times before. Marcus switches off the windshield wipers, turns off the headlights, and kills the ignition. The sound of the Mustang’s rumbling engine is replaced by the steady pelting of the rainfall against the soft-cover roof of the black convertible. The rain, though intense, is soothing. Marcus concentrates on his breathing. His soul is alive with both fear and anticipation.
The calm before the storm. As he sits here listening to the rain beat against the car, he carefully looks over Veronica’s abode. The redbrick home seems to call out to him, inviting him to start the walk up the pathway leading from the driveway to the back entrance. He can see faint glimmers of light flickering throughout windows of the house.
“Candles. She’s ready for me. This isn’t just some fling,” he whispers.
He looks at his ring finger.
“Soon, Mia. Soon, but not tonight. Tonight’s not about you. God help me, tonight is about me,” he whispers.
Opening the door of the Mustang, he darts up the brick path, toward the rear entrance of the house, looking like a cat burglar making his way toward his next score. Somewhere inside, she’s waiting to be taken.
The back door is open, just as Veronica said it would be. Marcus slips into the house, then gently closes the door behind him while shaking the rain from his soaked suede jacket. Spying the coat hooks just off the wall-mounted doorstop, he slides the dripping jacket onto one of them. This is when he catches a whiff of that sweet, warm tinged fragrance. His member, already hard, stiffens up a notch more to the point of painful throbbing. He stares at the jacket, somehow afraid to look in the direction of the flickering light beyond the kitchen. His heart is beating a mile a minute within his chest. The click of heels against the tiled kitchen floor forces his breathing to momentarily stop. The smell of her perfume is stronger than ever. Marcus clears his throat, and settles himself down.
“I’m here, Ronnie. Just getting settled in. Your home is nice.” Marcus digs deep, reaching for whatever small talk he can muster.
“It reminds me of—”
“Hon, did you really come here to gibber with me, or to screw me?”
He glances up the stairs, three in all, and there she is, leaning against the wall of the adjoining foyer. Long black hair falls loosely over her left shoulder, as she tilts her head, accentuating the question. She licks her moist, luscious lips with a quick tongue flick, as she slowly strokes her thigh with the tips of her French-manicured nails. Her butter-pecan colored skin glistens in the wan candlelight, with the sheen of some flavored oil, complementing the scent of her perfume.
Veronica’s caramel-colored camisole also falls loosely from her left shoulder, giving Marcus a ghost glimpse of her aroused nipples behind the thin teddy. The skimpy camisole stops just shy of her upper thighs, teasing Marcus with a peak of her honey pot. Damn…he can barely hold it together any longer. Veronica is drop-dead gorgeous. By the light of the distant candle, he can read the steamy look in her eyes as he gazes back at her. Outside, lightning flashes and a thunderclap rolls. The outside flash temporarily lights the kitchen, giving Marcus a silhouette view of Veronica’s slim figure underneath the teddy. Fear and uncertainty are instantly replaced with lust and heat.
“I thought that we could—” she starts to say, before Marcus interrupts on his way up the three steps, in one giant leap.
In a gruff voice, he cuts her off. “Don’t talk. Don’t say anything to me.”
He’s up the steps and into the foyer in a blink. His strong arms quickly but gently wrap around her waist from both sides as he pulls her toward him. She doesn’t put up a fight. Instead, she reaches out at the same time, wrapping her arms around his neck, simultaneously pulling him toward her own opening lips, and thrusts her pelvis toward his crotch. They collide violently, passionately. Her tongue darts in and out of his mouth with an uncanny speed. His hands slide down her waist, grabbing two palmfuls of rump. Her petite frame is easy to lift and Marcus does so with little effort. Their mouths never slow the dance, as he lifts her from the floor of the foyer, a caramel-colored high heel pump smacks against the wall. She wraps both legs tightly around her lover’s backside. Marcus breaks off the passionate kiss, slinking the tip of his tongue down her chin, underneath her right jawline, straight for her earlobe. Veronica’s breathing heaves as he twirls the tip of his tongue into her ear. Her hands fall from his neck, down his back, up to his shoulder blades, back around his neck; she’s frenzied with lust. She tries to speak in between breaths.
“Ohhhhh…Marcus, I’ve wanted this for so long, baby. My God, I’ve wanted you for so long…ohh…unhhh…I need you, baby! Please give it to me!”
Marcus’s brow breaks out in sweat as his tongue action trails back down to the nape of her neck. He walks into the kitchen, with her tight in his arms.
“Where’s the bedroom, Ronnie?” he huffs, staring into her eyes.
“Damn the bedroom, Marcus Jackson, I can’t wait! Fuck me here! NOW!” she screams into his face, and attacks his lips with passionate kisses, sucking and biting his bottom lip until it almost bleeds, all the while groping and fondling any and every inch of his body in a desperate attempt to get to flesh. Marcus plops her rump onto the marble countertop of the center kitchen island, then literally rips the camisole straps from the garment. Perking breasts with rock-hard nipples spill over the top of the fallen garment. Outside, the rainstorm continues. Mother Nature’s pissed rage matches their primal rustle with every move and with the next flash of lightning, Marcus can see the crazed look of want in the eyes of his forbidden lover. The look grants him strength, but it’s also enough to take him over the edge.
“Oh, shit, I can’t believe this is happening! Not yet!” he yells as he concentrates on squeezing his groin.
“Wait for me baby, wait…” she whispers in between huffs.
Veronica’s hands thrust off the marbletop counter, sending her into a sort of leap from the countertop, tackling Marcus to the ground. The impact against the vinyl flooring winds him enough to calm his lust for a second. He doesn’t have time to ask what the hell’s going on. He opens his eyes and glances toward his now vertical feet to see that Veronica is on him. She’s already unlatched his belt and is pulling at his jeans. With one swift and steady tug, she manages to yank his boxers and jeans to his kneecaps. His prick bounces free of the boxers and immediately stands at full attention. She’s fast. Her mouth closes around him, swallowing his prick completely. She sucks him with incredible speed, her teeth never once shaving his delicate skin, her left hand gently squeezing his scrotum sac. Marcus begins to hyperventilate; his mouth dries as she continues to give him the blow job to end all blow jobs. His hands find tangles of her silky dark hair as he focuses his sights on the patterned ceiling paper above the island. The lightning flashes, and the thunder rolls, and the rain continues to rage outside.
Flickering candles from the nearby living room offer a soft varied glow of this beautiful woman’s head quickly bobbing up and down over his crotch. The whole dreamlike action proves too much for him to handle. He tries to speak up and warn her of the inevitable outcome of this wonderful head job. As she continues to move, she moans in pleasure as the rain outside continues.
“Fuck…oh, shit! Ronnie…baby! I think I’m gonna cum! Aw, God, Veronica, I’m gonna cum, baby!” he yells as his muscles tense.
She stops long enough to speak, before continuing at a faster pace. “Give it to me Mark! I want it now! I wanna taste it!!”
> Marcus involuntarily grips down on her head as his prick erupts. Wave after wave, she never stops sucking and groaning in pleasure as he unloads between her lips. He cums so hard that he thinks he might shit right there on her kitchen floor, while holding the back of her head into his crotch. His breathing stops as she sucks him dry. Marcus has a brief moment to worry as he continues spewing into her open mouth; he thinks he might faint. Just when the colors around him begin to turn the dull gray of a fainting spell, he exhales deeply, and inhales just as deep.
Veronica flings her head back up into the air, wiping her luscious lips with the tips of her right hand while continuing to squeeze his balls with her left hand. She’s in ecstasy, savoring the taste of his life-producing juices. Marcus raises his hands to her breasts as she straddles him, her lips wet and sticky, glowing by the light of the candle. His fingers gently circle the areolas, then pinch down on the nipples firmly. She squeals in pleasure, then begins speaking in fluent Spanish.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying, Mami, but keep going,” he gruffs.
Capturing a full breath, Marcus shoves her backward to the vinyl floor, her back smacking the ground smartly. Veronica giggles like a schoolgirl and taunts him playfully.
“Mr. Jackson, I didn’t realize you were so robust, sir! And what do you want to do to me now, hon?” she asks coyly.
“I’m gonna suck your pussy until it hurts. It’s your time to cum, Ronnie,” he answers matter-of-factly, then grips the camisole at the hips and rips what’s left of the now-tattered garment from her body.
Ohh, it’s beautiful, trimmed to perfection and just lovely to look at. The lightning-flash dance begins to intensify and with each flash, he finds himself in awe of what’s happening here, of what had just happened. Mia had never sucked him dry before! She, in fact, hates the idea of even giving oral sex. This, by comparison, is incredible! Marcus sits up on his rump, kicking his shoes off of his feet. Veronica then pulls his jeans and boxers free before lying to the floor on her back. He strips his shirt free, then lowers his lips to her right breast. As he gently sucks the nipple, she arches her back, allowing a moan to slip from her lips. His right hand grips at her left breast. Veronica’s in heaven.
