by Fifi Flowers
“I heard it was an error.” Those were the only words I managed to say as he rid me of my dress.
He went on to explain the history behind the glass while stroking my bare skin. “Yes. Too much manganese oxide was used while the panes were manufactured. This caused the glass to turn a lavender shade, giving off, what they call, an Amethyst Glow. I love this part of my job as an architect; learning design and decor concepts and how historical elements come into play.”
Finishing his glass lesson, he removed his own clothing, exposing his hard body. I moaned at the sight and he rubbed up against me. “Mmmm… This is the perfect city for an architect. It fascinates me. It’s gotta be a wet dream for your profession.”
“Ha! That’s a first. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard Beantown architecture referred to in such a sexual way. Hmmm… something to think about. Occasionally, I write articles for a few design magazines. That idea could make for interesting research.”
“You could start with your own building. It’s mouthwatering. The ornate beams and mouldings send chills down my spine… and the way the…”
I was cut short when a sexy, warm, lush mouth covered mine and then I heard words whispered softly against my lips, “You can’t fuck my townhouse but you can fuck me,” before he silenced all conversation for good.
Chapter Five
Awakened by a kiss. I was living a fairytale. A little over a week had passed and every morning I was provided a goodbye kiss or two from the owner of the warm, cozy bed I inhabited in a townhouse on Beacon Street. This morning was no different except that I received a lunch offer I could not refuse. “Meet me for lunch at my office. We’ll have a picnic looking out over the Emerald Necklace.” I mumbled my answer then felt the covers being pulled back, and a set of teeth sunk into my backside. I moaned and waited for more but instead, I was re-covered. “The view is spectacular.”
“Are you speaking of my body or the city?” I giggled and rolled on to my back, exposing my breasts to two beautiful, ogling, lavender eyes.
“You don’t play fair, Sofie.” My fully suited handsome man attacked my breasts with his tongue, teeth and lips; with my fingers in his hair, I held on tight. Unfortunately, he was only giving me a sampling of his fabulous techniques and broke free from my grasp. I pouted, groaning my displeasure. He laughed and assured me there would definitely be a lot more, later. “I have a meeting this morning or I would fuck you properly. Come to lunch and I will give you what you want.”
I accepted defeat and pulled the covers up, concealing my lonely nipples. “Okay,” I huffed then added, “I suppose I’m to bring the food?”
One more delicious kiss was granted to me. “All I need is you for lunch; spread out naked on my desk.”
I laughed as he strolled away. I called out to him. “I will bring food as well!”
When my gorgeous man was no longer in view, I rolled over and moved to Drake’s side of the bed. Clutching his pillow, I burrowed my nose to take in his scent and fell back to sleep until my cellphone started ringing. Ring! Quiet. Ring! Quiet. Ring! Damn! I knew that “Hey There Delilah” ringtone; it had to be important.
“Good morning, Lila.” Apparently it wasn’t a good morning for her and she let me know about all the drama that unfolded. An actor had a hissy fit the night before and broke several stage props. My assistant had to gather them all up and take inventory. Ugh! She asked where she could find similar items. I knew of thrift/antique stores in the area, and let her know I would go shopping if she would text me the items along with snapshots of said broken pieces. Then I dragged myself out of bed, showered and headed with a list over to Charles Street. I actually loved to visit these shops—they had amazing deals; bring your own paper sack and fill them for $10 to $30 per bag. There would be no problem finding theatre props or even a few fun treasures for myself and, of course, something for Lila. Finished, I made my way to the theatre with two overflowing bags.
Going through the various finds, we threw out all of the old stuff, salvaged a few, and arranged the new pieces with each scene setting. Once we were all organized, I let Marco know that if his actor broke another item I would be breaking his fucking fingers. He just laughed at me and tenderly rubbed my shoulders before turning me loose to answer my buzzing phone. Aah! A naughty text from Drake; a reminder that I needed to get to his office with his lunch.
Time to have a little fun with him. “Not sure I can make it.”
“Not an option. I have an erected building that needs your full attention. Every inch. Every detail needs to be examined. I have the perfect avenue in mind for it to rest in.”
“Hmmm… on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You must be completely nude when I arrive.”
“Done. Make sure you’re here on time—12:30 sharp!”
Looking at the time on my phone, I quickly said my goodbyes, insured that Lila could handle things for the rest of the day, and then left the theatre. Rushing next door to my hotel suite, I freshened up: threw on a turquoise halter dress, high heeled silver sandals, silver hoop earrings, a silver cuff bracelet around bicep, and pulled my hair up in to a high ponytail. Yes, no undergarments.
Ready to go, I went down to the lobby and waited as my doorman hailed a cab for me. I headed for one of my favorite gourmet, Italian delicatessens in the North End, complete with a charming and handsome deli-man. As I walked in through the front glass door of the narrow store, incredibly delish smells enveloped me and my stomach began to growl. I was starving and suddenly wanted everything the deli had to offer. However, I did refuse samples; I knew I would be full by the time I left the shop if I tried it all. Besides, I knew it would all be heavenly. Mouthwatering delights called to me behind glass cases; a wide variety of marinated items such as cheese, homemade pasta, and potato salads. Yum. I selected a pint of sun-dried tomato and feta pasta salad, a quarter of garlic marinated mushrooms, three different types of olives, sliced meats (prosciutto, pepperoni, salami, and capocollo), cheeses (manchego, sharp provolone), and a loaf of crusty, Italian bread. To accompany our feast, I added some Italian cookies, a bottle of Acqua Panna sparkling water and a bottle Sangiovese wine.
While the nice deli-man packed everything into a lovely wicker basket filled with assortment of picnic accessories, I plucked a bag of sugarcoated pastel almonds, a favorite of mine. Now, I was set for today’s lunch.
Situated in the backseat of the taxi again; the driver transported me across town to the Prudential Center. Entering the building, I struggled my way passed several shops and through a crowd of shoppers with my rather heavy picnic basket. I really hadn’t thought this through, but I was determined to get the basket up to the 38th floor unassisted. Riding up the elevator, I thought back to the last time I was in this building to visit the Skywalk Observatory on the 50th floor. I was taking clients to see the amazing view of Boston before having cocktails and appetizers at the Top of the Hub restaurant and lounge on the 52nd floor. This visit would be far more intimate… and exciting.
Stepping off of the elevator, I entered a large, open reception area. The waiting section in the space had highly polished, concrete floors, decorated with black leather and chrome Le Corbusier chairs, arranged around a thick, grey-green sea-glass oval table, topped with a metal framed miniature building. I walked up to the reception desk, gave my name, informing her that I had a meeting with Mr. Blaxton. The woman at the desk was very cordial and gave me directions to his office; pointing the way with a smile of her face.
Proceeding to my sexy lunch destination, I walked past several beechnut wood panels, framed with stainless steel down along one wall. Multiple metal pedestals housed architectural models under glass boxes in front of each panel. The structures were all different and quite impressive. I wondered how many had Drake created as I arrived in front of a desk, sitting outside a closed door, marked with the words “Drake Blaxton.” I was greeted with a smile by a middle-aged secretary who immediately spoke into a headset.
I knocked before strolling in to a glorious sight. I smiled.
“As you see…” He stretched out his bare muscular arms. “I can be very obedient.”
“Mmmm… your office has an amazing view…” I settled the picnic basket on a low wood table in front of a black leather diamond tufted sofa, admired the framed architectural sketches mounted on the walls of his office, and then walked to the windows. He was right, part of the Emerald Necklace of Boston was visible looking out his floor to ceiling windows; the tree-lined streets formed a necklace chain, and The Commons made up the emerald pendant. “Spectacular,” I said as I turned away from the window to see him swivel his chair in my direction. There he sat behind his massive desk. He had done as I had requested. My eyes were instantly drawn to his big, muscular legs and the beautiful erection proudly on display for me.
Standing before him I reached behind my neck, and untied my dress. Letting it fall to the floor, “ooh… fuck me,” escaped from Drake’s two biteable lips.
I purred, “I plan on it.” Seeing him start to move, I raised my hand. “Stay put.” I slowly moved to his chair, climbed up, straddled his legs and lowered myself onto him in one swift move. Grabbing my ponytail firmly in the middle, he twisted my hair around his hand, pulled me in close, and attacked my mouth; biting and licking and plundering. I rode him briefly, moaning into his mouth then I broke away, rose up, and removed my body from his. Backing up, biting my lip, I stood, looking at him.
“Don’t tease me,” he groaned and I silently sunk to my knees before him. Lowering my mouth over his cock, I raked my teeth up and down his hard length.
“Oh, Sofie, that feels incredible.” I knew he liked teeth and biting so I continued with my method and sucked him in deep. Tasting his pre-cum and my own juices mixed together was erotic and it spurred me on. I had never wanted to worship a man’s body so much in my life. My nipples were rock hard and I was soaking wet; moisture dripped down my legs. I was teetered on the edge of my own climax; one touch and I would’ve burst. “You’re killing me, Sofie… ooh baby… I’m going to come…” I felt him try to pull me up and I moved more vigorously, incorporating the squeeze of my hand around the base of his shaft. Relaxing his grasp, pushing his hips forward, he exploded in my mouth and I drank every drop, licking him clean. Looking up into Drake’s darkened lavender eyes, he announced, “I’m starving,” with a wicked grin before he reached for me.
“I brought lots of food.”
Twirling my ponytail, he raised an eyebrow. “I need an appetizer.”
“Oh… that I didn’t bring.”
“I see one right in front of me.” Then before I could speak another word, I found myself spread wide open on his desk top, his mouth devouring me. I shamelessly grasped his hair and rode his face as he licked, sucked, and bit me. One orgasm rolled out after another and he kept them coming as he curled two fingers inside of me, rubbing a magical spot. Panting wildly, I wanted to scream but instead, I put my hand to my mouth and bit down hard on the pad below my thumb.
Delicious swipes of his tongue soothed me as my climaxes waned and then he licked and nipped his way up my body, making me treble and quake. God, how I hoped he was going to fill me, I silently prayed. I desperately needed him to ease my throbbing as he sucked each of my nipples in his mouth. Then he rewarded me; capturing my mouth and – plunging his solid length deep inside of me… filling me… rocking into me… grinding… rolling his hips… he was sending me straight to heavenly bliss. Thank God our mouths were connected as our climaxes collided; otherwise the entire building would know that lunch wasn’t the only thing on Mr. Blaxton’s agenda. Regaining our natural breathing, Drake helped me off of his desk and guided me to his sitting area.
“You brought a feast,” he said as I revealed the contents of my picnic basket and began to place the treats on the table after I spread out the red and white checked tablecloth.
“I did go overboard. Not a good idea to shop for food while hungry.”
Grabbing two seat cushions off of the couch, he placed them on the floor on either side of the wood table and we ate lunch sans clothing. “I wish this was a glass table.”
“Why is that?” I asked coyly, knowing perfectly well what he meant and I felt a warm hand slip between my legs. “Mmmm… is it essential you see what you desire?”
Those words prompted him to grab his phone from the sofa, making a call to his secretary. He told her to take the rest of the day off and that he’d see her on Monday morning. Then he tossed the phone, hurdled the table, and made me come completely undone over and over. By the time we left Drake’s office, the stars were out and everyone had gone home for the night.
Chapter Six
Over the weekend, Drake and I participated in our usual routine: Saturday breakfast with Sherry, walking, talking, shopping, cooking… and of course a lot of mutual body appreciation time. Added to our usual shopping list, which was mainly consisted of fresh food and beverages, was to find a glass table, purchase it, and set up delivery for Monday morning. I was informed that I would be required to deliver lunch to the 38th floor on a regular basis. I was more than happy to oblige his said demand.
After searching through a variety of furniture shops, the perfect table was selected. A thick clear glass top, supported by four wooden legs that reminded us of bed posts. There was something so sexy about that table and it matched his office so precisely. It had a blend of modern meets old world style like his office with its modern furnishings and antique framed architectural drawings.
“The ornate elements on this table look like the frames in your office. Are they all your drawings… your projects?”
“Yes, they are all mine. Is that all you think of when you see the table?” A smirk played on his gorgeous face, but I ignored his question.
“I noticed the largest and more prominent piece, over the sofa, was a theatre design interior and exterior. Exquisite details. I’d love to see it.”
“Yes.” He smiled proudly, puffing out his strong chest. “You are not the only theatrical one in this relationship…”
Relationship; that was the only words I heard as he continued speaking about the theatre design, I assumed. I would have to google it later or admit to the fact that I had zoned out. How could I think about anything but that big word; it hung out, above all other important nouns. It sent my mind reeling; imagine having a real relationship with him instead of what I called a vacation/business encounter. What we had was not real. It was fun, but could never work; he was East Coast and I was West Coast. We were both established in our careers. No. Sadly, this was only for a short time and nothing more than a fabulous way to pass it.
“Sofie… Sofie?” Two strong hands cupped my face, forcing me to look into lavender eyes. “Hey . . . what’s with the sad look… and tears?” With his thumbs, he gently wiped the moisture from my cheeks. “Where did you go?”
Reaching up, I placed my hands over his wrists, leaned my forehead on his chest and lied, “I’m sorry. I don’t know.” I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him that my heart would break when I departed. No, this needed to be a happy fling with no drama. Funny words for a person whose life was surrounded, literally, by drama daily. Different drama. Pulling away from Drake, I wiped my eyes and waved my hand, laughing. “Raging hormones… a girlee thing.” Then I changed the subject and got him to take me for an ice cream at our infamous watering hole. Happy to fulfill my request, he never questioned me further and I was delighted the rest of the weekend. The next week was filled with sheer pleasure; indoors and out.
Work at the theatre was smooth and uneventful, just the way I liked it. It enabled me to work on my production design sketches and have brunch with Marco at the end of the week. I hadn’t seen much of him since he wasn’t needed during the
day and I hadn’t been needed at night. It was nice to catch up on the latest gossip and chit chat about our new found friends in Boston.
“A bunch of us are going to Shakespeare in the Park; bring your park man and come along. He does exist, right? All of what you just told me is real? You’re not just fantasizing about him while drooling from your frog bench?”
“Yes. I guess I never told you what happened, only that we’re seeing each other.”
“Helloooo!—I haven’t seen you lately,” he states, dramatically.
“Well… that’s because I’ve been playing house with Drake and you’ve been playing limbo with your well-endowed, island honey.”
Ignoring my island girl comment, he grilled me. “Oh. He has an actual name and a house?”
I beamed just thinking about him. “Yes. On Beacon Hill.”
Slapping his hand on the table, he exclaimed, “Shit! I hate him already!”
Shaking my head, I laughed at him, then proceeded to tell him the details about the lightning, hitting my head, being carried to his home, and taken care of thoroughly. Minus the good details.
“Holy shit sounds like a fucking romance novel. You sure he’s real? You didn’t hit your head too hard and just imagining this shit?”
“It’s real. We haven’t spent a night apart since.” I couldn’t stop the smile that lit my face.
“Oh my God… Sofa’s in love!” Damn, he was annoying singing Drake and Sofa sitting in a tree… loudly. I was not in love. I had never been in love ever in my life. Imagine having my first love at thirty-one years old. No, this was just lust. Wasn’t it? Yes, it was. I shook my head as he continued, “I can see the answer in your eyes. That’s it. Time to share him. I need to see if he’s worthy. Invite him now; dessert and drinks at Finale and then Shakespeare in the Park.”
“Oh, I’ve been dying to go there. I’ve passed it a bazillion times and drooled looking in the windows. Yummy pastry!”
