I nodded. “Okay.”
“Christina.” I heard my name ruminate on his tongue.
I showed him some stilettos and he eventually settled on a silver pair that wrapped around the leg.
I went to get the shoes for him and took them to the register. He was there waiting patiently. I rang up the shoes at over 250 dollars and he paid for it all in cash.
“Have a great day,” I told him.
“You too Christina.”
No shudder went up my spine, and I turned normally to go clock out. I exited through the store, as it was still early, and I found him waiting on the bench outside of the store.
“Hello,” he said with a sheepish grin and a wave.
“Hi,” I said.
He handed me the bag of shoes. “These are for you.”
“What?”
“These shoes are for you. You look like you could use something nice.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It could mean whatever you want.”
I took the bag and looked into it even though I knew exactly what it was. I actually picked out some shoes for myself. If he wanted to throw away his money like that, fine, but I was pretty sure he expected something in return, something I could not give him.
“Give me a call. You need to have some fun, I can tell.” He slipped me his business card, a fancy, embossed affair.
I went home and hid the shoes; and then I called him.
I called him because on the bus ride home, with the box of shoes resting at my feet, I convinced myself that I had to know why he bought me those shoes. I knew why, but I wanted to hear it, even though he would never admit it.
***
One thing I could always say about Andrew is that he’s honest, and he did tell me why, but it wasn’t the answer I was expecting.
“I will take care of you, buy you anything you want and take you anywhere you want to go as long as you continue to be the sexy little thing you are.”
“Why though?”
“It’s what I do.” I imagined him shrugging as he said this.
“You’ve done this before?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I can’t commit.”
After a pause, I said, “Me neither.”
“Then this works out for both of us then, until we feel the need to move on.”
“Okay then.”
I hate the term, but I am what I am — a sugar baby. An older man is paying my way through this time of life. He is my sugar daddy. I’ve been with him for 6 years and I find that I have not grown tired of our arrangement like I thought I would, and he hasn’t either. I’m living with him. He’s paying for my grandmother’s hospital care. He’s gotten me a new car every year that we’ve been together. He paid for me to go to community college and university and if I want my Masters, I can go back at any time. Never once though, have we said “I love you” or put a title on our arrangement other than arrangement and we haven’t talked about what we are and where we’re going. We’re just being right now. I guess that’s what I have always wanted.
***
I finished my run. Andrew was awake and dressed in his robe, cooking dinner. “How does Chicken Florentine sound tonight?”
“As long as you put that amazing hollandaise sauce on top of it,” I said.
“Of course I will.” He rarely cooks, but when he does, it’s amazing.
“I’m going to jump back in the shower.”
“Okay. Don’t be long.”
“Yes sir.”
After another night of sex, I stopped by my grandparents’ house — the house I grew up in — to check on things. My grandfather had passed away two years before, and with my grandmother in the hospital, no one was there to look after the house — Matthew had to escape from it all and decided to make his life in the middle of nowhere, Washington. Marcia just didn’t bother.
I picked up the mail out of its box and sorted it- —a few bills that needed to be paid, credit card offers and junk mail that I threw out. I vacuumed the floor and made sure that the refrigerator was empty.
While I was doing my inspection, the doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone, I went to answer it, and found my mother and father at the door.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” they both said. My father scratched at an imaginary itch behind his head while my mother tepidly stepped into the house. “How’s everything?”
“Good. I was just checking the house and getting the mail and stuff,” I said. “Looking after the house.”
We were here for that too,” my mom said. “We’re going to the hospital afterwards. But, I mean, it looks like you have it all under control.”
I nodded. My dad stayed quiet.
“Have you heard from Matthew or Marcia?” Mom asked.
“No. Marcia never answers her phone and Matthew doesn’t have one.”
“Oh. Yeah. But how are you? Are you good? You look good.
“I’m fine.” I hesitated, “Someone is taking care of me.”
“Is he a good man?” she asked. I felt myself blush red.
“He is,” I said after an awkward pause.
“That’s good.”
“I think we should be leaving,” my father said after a while.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
I nodded. “I’ll lock up the house.”
“Of course you will,” she said. “She raised you to be responsible.”
Before she stepped out the door, my mother turned and said, “Do you love him?”
“No.” I said.
“That’s sad. You should at least know it once in your lifetime.”
I smiled a sad smile at her. “I don’t think I can.”
“I’m sorry.” And with that, she left.
***
Andrew was asleep on the couch in the den, a drink growing warm on the table.
I shook him gently. “Andrew?”
“Yeah?” He mumbled while still asleep.
“Are you ready to go to bed?”
“Yeah.” He stood up and I led him to bed. I got naked and molded myself against his body until we were spooning. He grinded his hips into my bare backside. “I can wake up a little for this.”
I moved to turn over onto my back, but he said, “I want you like this.” He raised himself up and entered me, cupping my breasts in his hands and kissing the back of my neck. I felt the heat of his body against mine and the small of my back tingled at his touch.
He raised my leg up a little. “Christina,” he whispered into my hair. His breath felt wonderful on my neck and he pinched one of my nipples gently, soliciting a moan out of my mouth.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He pinched me again.
He quickened his pace and clutched me to him tighter. I squeezed his dick with my muscles and a slight whistle escaped his lips before he came.
“You’re going to kill me woman,” he said, raising my leg up higher in the air and rubbing my clit in small circles until I was shaking and moaning in his embrace. “You’re so beautiful.”
I lied awake a little while longer, and maybe it was just the silence of the night messing with me, but I could’ve sworn I heard him say, “I need you.” I shook the thought out of my mind and fell asleep a little while afterwards.
***
Christmas, 1994
I was the first one up, excited with the anticipation of opening my presents. Matthew and Marcia dragged themselves out of bed. I knocked on my parents’ door, and my mother opened it with a smile on her face.
“Merry Christmas!!” I said in my high pitched voice.
“Merry Christmas sweetie.” My mother hugged me tight. My father put his robe on and hugged me too.
“Let’s open these presents,” he said, smiling also.
I tore through the wrapping paper with hurricane wind strength, and received a few Barbie dolls, a Game Boy with a few games and some clothing. Matthew and Marcia received video games and clothes resp
ectively.
For me, this was the best Christmas we had as a family. All of our other Christmases were very modest or lacking in comparison. It was especially memorable because my parents didn’t argue.
“Here Sarah.” My father handed my mother a gift wrapped in some gold paper finer than any of the rest of us got. Suspicious, Mom opened it gingerly, revealing a jewelry box that contained a Cubic Zirconia tennis bracelet.
“Eddie?!”
He hushed her. “Don’t say anything. Just enjoy it.”
Mom enveloped him in a hug and kissed him several times. “Oh my God, thank you so much baby. Oh my God… it’s beautiful. Eddie….” Tears formed in her eyes. “Baby, I love you.”
“I love you too Sarah. I even said it on the back of the bracelet.”
She turned the bracelet over to see the engraving — Forever and always, I love you.
She hugged him once again. “Oh Eddie. Okay everyone, let’s clean up, and I’ll make breakfast; how does pancakes sound?”
Even Matthew and Marcia had to smile. “I love pancakes,” I said. Everyone laughed, a real laugh, one that made it seem like we were a family for once. For that brief moment, we were normal.
***
I woke up in the morning and made Andrew a quick breakfast and some coffee. He had to go to the office today and “actually do my job,” as he liked to say.
We sat across from one another at the glass and stainless steel table and made light conversation before he gave me a kiss on the cheek and headed out of the door, into the world, to do what he does best.
I washed the dishes and did some light house cleaning. I went into our own personal fitness center and lifted some light weights as my exercise for the day. I started our dinner for the evening and selected something sexy to wear while eating it. Presentation is everything. I collected the mail from the box and fielded a phone call from my sister.
She sounded annoyed as she usually was as I reported on my parents and my grandmother. I kept it as brief as possible with her before she made me angry.
I watched TV, my lingerie hiding underneath my robe, as my dinner finished and Andrew came home after 7. I threw my robe off and stretched myself across the couch when I heard him coming closer.
“They really needed the money man today,” he said with a smile.
“They really did,” I said, giving him a kiss.
“Something smells delicious, and someone looks delicious as well.”
“Go wash up for dinner.”
He returned looking more relaxed than when he came in — he discarded his suit jacket, his tie was undid and he was in his bare feet. I placed his plate in front of him before making my own.
He talked about work, occasionally rolling his neck on his shoulders. I replied at the appropriate moments. Once we had finished eating, and because of what I was wearing, I put the dishes in the dishwasher and set it. Andrew chased me upstairs where we fucked until we fell asleep, satisfied and awaiting the new day, where we would repeat our routine.
***
I learned long ago that nothing in my life was normal. Those brief moments of normalcy were few and far between for me, and I learned to accept it for what it was.
Yes, Andrew and I don’t have a normal relationship; we aren’t your typical situation. But it’s a lot better than what my parents had. We have made the most out of our little arrangement. It’s comfortable, and doing something different, trying to make a go at having a normal relationship is something that I can’t even fathom. If we stay together, that’s fine with me. It’s better than what I was going to lead myself to.
I never had to suffer while introducing him to my family, like I saw my sister do every time she introduced us to a serious boyfriend. Having children was not on our agendas, so I didn’t have to worry about how I would turn out as a mother — and the corresponding fear of turning into my mother. Our arrangement was perfect.
And maybe deep down inside, we do love each other.
***
[Hope you liked the story and don't forget your 8 complimentary books, which you may find a download link to on the last page of this collection, just after the 11th story ends. Now, on to the next story!]
It’s Not Love
by
Lois Hodges
“Girls, let’s sing,” Carly said, all of a sudden, her eyes on the stage with the Karaoke music. Ally looked at her, confused, and then looked around the bar.
“Is that a good idea? I feel like things are about to explode at any moment,” she said, looking at the crowd. Townsfolk, tourists and everyone from the neighbouring villages, or so it felt, were sitting in the Grill, famished after the country fair festivities that the day had held.
“All the more reason to act normal,” Carly replied, a smile on her face. “We get up there, sing for our men and act like normal people. Gwen, you have to sing with us.”
“What?” Gwen looked up from her phone. “No, you girls go.”
“This is your job!” Carly replied. “You’re a professional, you have to come.”
“Uh…” Gwen smiled, trying not to turn around. Trying not to see Finn’s eyes burning into her. “You gonna pick a sappy love song for your boyfriends?”
“You can sing for me, sweet thing,” David purred, poking his best friend in the ribs. Gwen rolled her eyes, putting her phone in her pocket.
“Eternal Flame!” Carly cried to the DJ, who nodded and put on the CD as she dragged the other two to the front. “Just pretend you’re performing. That’s the romantic thing about being a performer, your whole audience is a love affair. Do you know the song?”
“Uh…yes…” Gwen smiled tightly, as they stood in front of the mics, all eyes on them as the opening strands of music cut through the house. She watched, as Carly’s eyes went to Tyrone, and Ally and Derrick shared an intense gaze. Only then, when everyone was distracted, did she dare to flicker her eyes up for a moment, dare to just for one second, look at Finn, who was doing the same thing.
“Close your eyes… give me your hand, Can you feel my heart beating… do you understand?”
It was such a complicated story that shouldn’t have been one. Gwen was a Broadway star, a triple threat so well on her way to fame that she wore sunglasses on the street for protection, not practicality. David, her lifelong best friend, recently moved to a small town in Virginia, living off a family trust that made him one of the wealthiest men in town. And so he lived hard and played hard; but always did his part by sitting on the town’s council and participated in the activities of both leisure and work.
They visited back and forth as they got older, and free of parental control, texting up a storm when they couldn’t. Lately, Hanover Heights had gotten a lot more fun when half the town was under threat of being sold to a hotel developer, looking to turn the small town into a tourist trap. The townsfolk began organizing fairs, fundraisers, balls; anything they could to make sure the hotel developer’s offer was one they would be in a position to refuse. Their sinking economy and closing shops, however, were so far telling a different story.
Gwen had been visiting during a carnival when she first laid eyes on him; the gentleman in the well pressed suit; style only second to his subtle manners and good looks. Before she could reveal her secret, David had spoken in her ear.
”Stop staring, girl. That’s him. The bastard who wants to buy half this town and do Hell-knows-what with it.”
And so Gwen hadn’t said anything at all, even though she knew he had seen her; knew he had locked eyes with her across the field and became just as shell-shocked as she was.
“And then you come and ease the pain; I don't want to lose this feeling… Ohhhh,” the girls trailed off, somehow managing to sync their end notes and hands in perfect rhythm, causing the audience to clap and cheer; whistling as they took a bow. Finn, however, only caught her eye for the briefest moment, and raised his glass. She dipped her head, ever so slightly, in acknowledgement, before following the other three off the s
tage. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him get up, slipping on his jacket and leaving a bill for the waitress. And then, he scribbled something on a napkin, folding it in half and placing it on the chair.
“You ready to go home, kid?” David asked, when she got back to him. “I’m beat.”
The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 17: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women Page 10
