by Kara Liane
I pulled out my smartphone and texted Britney. I needed to escape my thoughts and sexting with that hot piece of ass would do the trick. So I began to type:
Brit cum over at 8. DON’T BE LATE. Wear a trench coat, heels, and nothing else.
I set the phone down and rubbed my temples with my long fingers. Immediately the phone chimed indicating a response. I read her reply out loud. “Sorry luv on a go-see. Won’t make it back in time. Will come over at 11, that ok?”
Fuck! I wanted to work off some of this irritation by pounding her into the mattress. I glanced at my watch, it was only sixish. Goddamnit! I guess I’d hit the gym instead. I didn’t even bother texting her back. I slammed my hands on my desk. This just wasn’t my fucking day.
On the corner of my desk was a package of cookies Liz insisted on making me take so I had something at my desk to nibble on, and indulge in. My indulgences and nibblings were a girl’s pussy though, not fucking cookies. But I always humored Liz. I wouldn’t call her a big sister in any sense, but she served as a mother hen to me. Even though she had no idea about my sexual appetites, depravities, and conquests, she still understood me in terms of my professional life. So I thought, what the hell? I’m bored, I’m frustrated, and I need to curb my appetite. Christ, now I sound like a depressed, middle-aged house-wife needing to stuff her face to make herself feel better. As if I’d ever use cookies, or any other treat, as comfort food to “eat my feelings.”
I grabbed the package, ripped it open, and shoved a cookie in my mouth. The cookies were vanilla flavored, and they tasted and smelled heavenly. Immediately I regretted it. Not because I was worried about bullshit calories, binge eating, or whatever the hell else chicks obsess over with food, but because it reminded me of her. I sighed heavily because it was another signal that Caylan had slipped through my fingers. I couldn’t fathom how she managed to work her way into the deep recesses of my mind.
I shoved the package away, chewed what was in my mouth, and stood up from my desk. That’s it! I was determined to figure out a way to find Caylan. I was craving her warmth again. I itched to touch her, and I wouldn’t be satisfied until I saw her. Visions danced in my head of her lying under me, on top of me, in every imaginable and conceivable position. I needed to have her. I was becoming obsessed so quickly. I barely spoke to her, but she had left a mark on me that would not go away.
I had to know her, had to find out everything I could about her. I’m so fucking pissed at myself for letting her go in the first place. I deserve to be tortured because I let this happen. Hell, for all I knew she could be in a relationship anyway with some asshole jock. There was only one way to find out. I was on a quest now. I succeeded in every pursuit I made, so I knew I could find her.
What the hell do I say to her, though? “Umm...sorry Caylan I am stalking you, but I have to fuck you to get you out of my head. Then you can go about your life?”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to work. I grabbed at my neck and slumped my head and shoulders forward. Jesus, this day needed to end already. I am driving myself crazy. I’d completed all my surgeries for the day and made all my rounds. So, fuck it! I’m leaving, it was more than time to go home. I’d hatch a plan on the way. Since I couldn’t pound Britney in the ass, then I’d find someone else to stick my dick into. Maybe I’ll call up the guys and go to a bar. It’s Thursday. I have a short day tomorrow since I just have afternoon rounds and no surgeries on the books, so a few drinks won’t kill me. That will do the trick. I’ll get a little buzzed, drag a girl who’s DTF back to my place, and call it a night.
No more Caylan for now. She doesn’t exist.
I turned off my computer, shut the lights off, walked out of my office, and locked the door behind me. I headed down the hallway and toward the exit to the parking garage. As I went through the automatic doors, the sun was just starting to set. The sky was a glorious color. I was anxious to get to my car to call the guys. Since it was still early, I could manage to work out and then hit the bar. I always kept a gym bag in the beemer with club-hopping attire, for those just-in-case times.
I was almost to the garage, but first I had to make it over the crosswalk. I looked both ways. As I was poised to cross, there was a car approaching. I decided to let the car pass, opting not to get run over. I just happened to look more closely in the backseat, and there was Caylan! The car was a burnt-orange, four-door sedan, and stood out like a beacon of hope.
I yelled after the car, “Wait! Stop!”
But I’m guessing no one could hear me, even though I yelled and waved my arms like an idiot. The driver was going much too fast for a parking lot, so I knew I’d never catch up. I looked at the license plate as they pulled out onto the main roadway, and they had Texas plates. An orange sedan with Texas plates, surely that was easy to spot if it turned up again. If that car came back, I’d find her. I’d stalk these grounds until I did.
I quickened my pace and practically ran to my car. I was anxious to get the night over with now and start a new day tomorrow—with a new plan of attack. My heart beat fast, and something bloomed in my chest. There was something growing there.
Chapter 3: The Urge to Surge
Alexi
The two-hour gym session worked me hard, but it did not sate my hunger for a tension release. I walked into the bar, aptly named The Surge. I was dressed to kill. I wore nicely pressed dark denim-washed jeans that hugged my ass and my hips just right, so women could see I was ready to play. I had on a crisp, black, button-down long sleeved shirt. The top button just subtlety exposed my chest. I don’t like chest hair, so I shave it and keep myself well-groomed everywhere else. I had on my gold Rolex watch, and my black combat boots. I’ve been told many times that I’m the modern day Ken doll.
The music was thumping, the lights were flashing, the drinks flowing, and the energy was intense. It smelled like the best combination of booze, sweat, and pussy. I knew the best clubs to go to in order to find the hottest tail. I scanned the room for my friends. We needed to grab some chicks before we headed to the VIP lounge.
I typically hung out with my three best friends, Gil, Anthony, and Caleb. I attended college with the guys at Brown University during my pre-med days. Having been in the same fraternity, it’s no surprise we stayed close. I was grateful that we all lived near each other because there’s plenty of times I called upon my boys for fun. Gil strongly believed the credo “bros before hoes.”
They are each successful in their own way. Caleb is a lawyer, Anthony a pediatrician, and Gil works in finance at a Fortune 500 company. Our conversations usually consisted of the same things—work and fucking. None of us took the plunge and settled down. We were four bachelors on the prowl. We had similar tastes in women, although Caleb tended to gravitate towards cougars.
No surprise my friends were at the bar chatting up five women. It’s nice to unwind with my bros sometimes and kick back. We get the friendly banter and ribbing going, but tonight was not the night for that. I was anxious to get up to the VIP lounge, so I could unwind further. Caleb noticed my approach first and mid-sentence to one of the blondes, hopped off his bar stool.
He gave me a fist bump and exclaimed, “It’s about fucking time man!”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Fuck you! I’m here aren’t I?”
That shut him up as he laughed. Caleb was always giving me shit. I nodded to Gil and Anthony who were both equally cozy with their chosen companions for the night. It was my turn to snag a clam. After all, I couldn’t let the guys have all the fun.
Caleb turned to me and teased, “Happy fishing.”
Of course I didn’t miss the double entendre. I snickered back at him and strode to the middle of the dance floor. There were plenty of chicks to choose from, but I figured I’d let them flock to me. I started moving to the techno beat with my hips. I consider myself a good dancer, and certainly have good timing and rhythm; which serves me well on the dance floor, and in the bedroom.
I caught the attention of a strawberry-
blonde beauty about five feet away from me. She was dancing in a group of four hotties. She whispered something to the dark-haired girl next to her, and then headed my way. I could see she was cocky. She licked her pink gloss on her pouty lips, and then smacked them together. I could tell she was ready to pounce. Her tight, little silver halter dress left little to the imagination. Normally I would be horny as hell and let her fucking attack me, but I found I just couldn’t quite get in the mood tonight. But “fake it until you make it,” and all that!
In my head I told myself to, pull it together.
I contemplated bolting for the door and making up some lame excuse later to the guys as to why I had to go. I could always say I had an emergency call, and being a doctor afforded me that escape plan. Before I could decide what I wanted to do, she was standing just an inch from me. There was not even enough room for my dick to breathe. Wow, subtle.
“Hi. I’m Jessie. I taste as good as I look,” she purred out the words.
She emphasized the word “taste” with as much sex as she could possibly drip into it. Of course I was not shocked by her blatant come-on considering that’s mild compared to what my ears usually hear. I eyed her up and down. She looked fucking hot in her clear plastic stripper shoes—I pictured them around my head when I’d be plunging into her repeatedly while she’s on her back.
“Jessie, I’m Alexi,” I replied.
I took her hand in mine and kissed the top to convey to her that I’m ever the consummate gentleman. But then I winked so she also knew what a wicked, bad boy I am. I could see her melt. That sealed the deal. She was putty in my hands, and I knew I could do what I wanted with her, to her, for her, and for me.
This is what I needed, I reassured myself.
I needed to get out of this current funk and fuck Jessie so hard it would drive any and all thoughts of Caylan from my mind tonight. Hell, if Britney would still show up and surprise me, I’d get girl-on-girl action too. It is so sexy to sit there and play director while two hot-ass girls go at it. I hadn’t been with any other women the last couple months while I’d been seeing Britney. But it was strictly casual, and Brit knew the score. It wasn’t intentional that I hadn’t fucked around, so maybe this would be a nice, welcome change with this new chick.
Jessie and I started swaying to the music. I reached for her hips and began guiding her movements. I knew she liked me taking control and directing her every move on the floor. Her lips parted. I couldn’t hear her ragged breathing over the thump of the speakers, but I imagined it was pretty erratic from the look in her eyes. She let her lids flutter closed, and let the music take her. She allowed my hands to take her on a journey. I dug my fingernails into her flesh to give her a little taste of the action, and of what’s to come. I could feel the strings of her thong under my touch.
Her eyes flew open in a shocked state, as her pupils dilated. I could tell she let out a moan, and I knew I had her primed and ready. I leaned in like I was going to kiss her, and instead went to the side of her face. My lips brushed the crest of her ear ever so lightly.
I said in a husky voice, “Let’s get out of here. I want that thong dangling from my neck when I’m done with you.”
I felt her shiver with pleasure in my hands. She was becoming the putty that I could mold and shape. I grabbed her hand with commanding pressure, and tugged her forward. I nodded my head to the side indicating that we were going in the direction toward the exit.
On the way out among the sea of people, I made eye contact with my bros. They fist pumped in the air for me because they knew I scored a hot piece. Obviously I wouldn’t make it to the VIP lounge tonight, but it was worth skipping in order to get straight to the release of this energy and intensity building inside me. I knew the storm was raging, and it would only be a matter of time before I lost it. I opened the exit door and walked out into the stale, unseasonably warm night air. Hmm…maybe this was a bad omen?
***
“Come sit on my face,” I rasped to Jessie, with a sexy panty-splitting smile.
She stood there in the doorway of my bathroom gloriously naked. She dangled her thong from her index finger. She was taunting me and teasing me. Oh, that thong would be around my neck soon enough little girl. I would wear it as a trophy and symbol of yet another steamy victory.
She looked around the room as she sashayed about giving me a show. I couldn’t help but think how I have the perfect bachelor pad. I like the way I have my place decorated in contemporary furnishings. My swanky condo overlooked the city. In the master bedroom, the walls were a taupe color with a black platform bed, covered with black and white sheets. I had a black desk in the corner, next to my walk-in closet. On the other wall, was a sitting area with a white couch, and a mounted flat screen TV. I have hardwood floors throughout the place, and I also had plush grey throw rugs down here and there for the times I had women on their knees. What can I say? I’m a thoughtful guy.
Jessie walked to the bed where I lay there waiting—also naked. She looked so yummy in her birthday suit. I had my head propped up with my arms folded under as a pillow. My erection was hard, big, and awaiting satisfaction. She started to crawl her way up my body beginning by my feet. Her breasts were perky, and I could tell her surgeon did a damn good job on her tits; you could barely see the scar. Christ, I hope my dad didn’t do her surgery. Eh, probably not since he’s been out of the game a few years; she looked young enough to have recently acquired them. When she reached my stomach, she let her nipples brush the head of my cock. That certainly got my attention, and elicited a twitch from my rod.
She looked into my eyes and I knew she thought that she was in charge. She thought she would rock my world. Well I had news for this sweetie. I’ve seen it and done it all, so there wasn’t anything she was going to bring to this night that I hadn’t already experienced. Jessie then gave me a peck on the lips and she spun around, and hovered her pussy over my face. I gripped her ass cheeks and pulled her down closer to my mouth.
“Suck me fucking hard baby. We’re going to sixty-nine the shit out of each other. I want to come like a freight train inside that pretty little mouth of yours. You’re going to swallow every drop and lick me clean. Understood?” I growled.
She moaned and bent her head down to my cock. I could feel her lips on my tip, and she lightly flicked it with her tongue. I spread the folds of her pussy, and lightly sucked at the tissues. I tongued my way up to her clit and gave it a little kiss. She squirmed with pleasure, and her slit started to weep.
I like teasing women, so I knew I’d steer clear of her nub for a little while to drive her wild. She was going to town on my cock, and I didn’t need to give her any direction—she was clearly a pro at this. She nibbled my balls and took me deep in her throat. Her saliva was so hot and slippery, her mouth was like sliding in and out of silk. I darted my tongue in and out of her pussy hole, and suckled the lips to her entrance. Every now and then some of her cum flowed out, and she tasted sweet and smelled sweet too. I could tell she probably showered right before arriving at the club because the floral scent was a spray or soap of some sort.
I loved that she was completely waxed; she must get a Brazilian. Her ass was pretty much non-existent, but I still squeezed the flesh of what little she had. I reached my hand forward and tweaked one of her nipples. She moaned and took me deeper in her throat. She was getting really close, but I sure as hell wasn’t yet. I was ready to saddle up and stay for a long night’s rough rodeo. Regardless of what chicks think, they do not have the power.
Power of the ‘V,’ I said to myself disgustedly.
The ‘V’ being the vagina of course. It’s this bullshit misconception that girls think they can blackmail us guys with pussy, and we’ll willingly follow to alleviate our blue balls. But this girl needs to also work for her orgasm. Out of nowhere though, I thought about Caylan.
She wouldn’t have to work for anything. I would work for it. I would beg, plead, lie, steal, and kill in order to have her in my arms, in m
y bed, and beneath me. As much as I would want it to be a savage fuck, I couldn’t do that to Caylan. I would take my sweet time with her. I would make lov….
Whoa! Where the hell did that come from?
But I guess I would. I would make sweet, passionate, toes-curling, nurturing, never-ending love to her. I would worship her body. I would take my time between her creamy thighs and lose myself in her. She would be the balm that heals me—or she would be the end of me. At that moment, I looked down into the face of…shit! What was her name? Was it Jackie? No, Jessie, that’s it! I looked at Jessie’s face, and immediately I lost my erection.
I am totally fucked, and I wish I meant literally!
***
I fucking cock-blocked myself. Who does that?
Needless to say, there was no fucking that took place. I now sat at my pristine, white couch in my bedroom, in my empty condo, nursing a beer. I wasn’t even pissed that I didn’t get off. You would think that a girl slobbing your knob would be enough to get you off. But as soon as Caylan entered into the mix…I just didn’t have it in me. I felt like I was fucking cheating on her or something. Christ, I didn’t even know the girl. This chick had me spun up like a spider would do to its meal in a web. I never got this way over a girl.
I put my head back on the cushion of the couch, and thought about Jessie’s face before she left. A few minutes before I grabbed my beer and took what felt like was the walk of shame down my hallway, I made excuses to Jessie. I sent her packing with cab money. She had some choice words for me, but I didn’t give a shit. I knew she thought I was a fucking pussy or something, but oh well. Then the next bitching female came in the form of Britney. I texted her to tell her not to bother to come over…ever again. She didn’t take it well.
I guess on my end what I thought was casual fucking, apparently wasn’t mutual. Clearly Brit had been lying to me and acting like she was cool about it all along. It was just as well. I was just hoping she wouldn’t become a vindictive clinger. I didn’t need that kind of bullshit drama. Case in point of why I didn’t do relationships. But somehow I got the distinct feeling that Caylan was different. I ran my hand through my hair, as I became increasingly agitated. So I closed my eyes and thought if Britney was the devil, then Caylan was an angel. I laughed at the metaphor as I dozed off.
