Fantasy Man

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Fantasy Man Page 2

by Summer Jordan


  “This is kind of embarrassing to admit, but when Jules and I were in college we used to fantasise, and my hottest fantasy was to have sex with a total stranger. Isn’t she amazing, Nick? Remembering and finding someone to deliver!”

  “She certainly is.” Remember to thank her for me.

  “You’re sure it’s okay if I call you Nick?”

  “Positive. Like I said, it’s your fantasy.” And maybe it would make him feel like he was someone else. An almost anonymous liaison with no strings attached. It was the perfect situation … perhaps a gift for him as well as her.

  Standing on her toes, Monica kissed him on the cheek. She smelled good even if she wasn’t wearing perfume, and wrapping his arms around her he discovered she felt wonderful. He drew her close and pressed her breasts against him and felt them harden. He pushed his rigid penis into her soft belly and when it throbbed, she shivered. His hand at her waist crept lower to caress the rounded cheeks of her bottom and losing control he let his hands roam. His breath came fast as he skimmed her curves, squeezing and fondling, and he knew he had to have her. The signs were good that he’d be able to perform. She was all that mattered. The past never happened.

  He finished off his beer and set the bottle down. Just in case, I’ll warn her. Besides, I don’t know the Fantasy routine. “Monica?” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I may need your help. You see? I’m new at this job. So I may … er … stumble a little … or fumble.”

  Handing her the Fantasies Unlimited Menu, Rick … Nick … took a deep breath. “Where would you like to start?”

  Chapter Two

  It was only five days until Christmas and luckily Rick had been stashing the presents he bought under the camper shell on the back of his truck. He was going to drive north to Michigan and his brother’s house where their parents and his sister and family would also gather for a celebration. He just hoped they didn’t get the snow that the forecasters kept predicting or he’d have a hard time getting there.

  His sister and sister-in-law’s Christmas presents were gift baskets he’d had prepared at a specialty shop and boy was he in luck. Monica must think he carried the scented oils and stuff for this job in his toolbox. Shaking his head at the whole scenario, Rick was glad no one could see him. With a wicker basket on each arm he felt like Little Red Riding Hood walking back up the lane—only he was the wolf.

  He felt uncomfortable deceiving Monica but she wasn’t expecting a relationship, just the kinky fun her friend sent her way as a gift. And for him it was an opportunity to move beyond finding his fiancée in bed with his best friend. Not that he really planned to go all the way with Monica although it was tempting. She was asking for sex. Expecting it, even. And he was long overdue for a good ‘lay’. If he couldn’t get his cock to rise to the occasion, something he’d worried about since that devastating incident, she wouldn’t even know who he was so she couldn’t run around telling people he was a loser.

  “Want another beer?” Monica asked, greeting him at the door with two in hand. They weren’t open yet but she was ready to pop the tops. He could tell.

  “I have champagne. It’s cold from sitting outside. How about some of that?”

  “Wonderful.” Her face lit up like a beacon. “I’ll put these back.”

  She skittered to the kitchen and he followed, trying to remember what he had inside each basket. He’d chosen slightly different contents from a list at the shop. Monica paced a few steps, sat down and got back up to get champagne flutes from another cabinet. Hoping to put her at ease, he popped the top and she nearly jumped out of her shoes.

  “Relax,” he said, pouring his sister-in-law’s champagne into the flutes and handing Monica one. “Or are you having second thoughts about going through with this?”

  “No. It wouldn’t be the right thing to do to my friend and besides, this is something I always wanted.” She held out her glass. “I was going to choose the bubble bath first and you obviously had it in mind as well since champagne is served with it.”

  “Um … yes, but I think I was supposed to wait until your bath was ready.”

  “That’s all right. We can have another glass later. Here’s to us.” Monica clinked glasses with him and then half downed hers. “What’s in your red box?” she asked suddenly.

  “Would you believe tools?”

  She laughed merrily. “By the way, where’s your … whatever you drove?”

  “Stuck in the snow where I slid off your drive at the curve I didn’t expect, but don’t worry. The sun’s out now and it should melt enough for me to get out when it’s time to go.”

  She finished her glass of champagne, and grabbing up the bottle, refilled hers and topped off his. “Well, let’s take these with us and get started. The bathroom is down this hall.”

  He followed with his sister Sheila’s favourite bubble bath, hoping he could replace it and Nina’s champagne, and at this rate probably Sheila’s wine as well, in time for his trip. What the hell? He’d call and order two duplicate baskets.

  Watching Monica’s trim butt swing down the hall in front of him, Rick forgot about baskets and began to wonder what she was wearing under those jeans. As she turned into the bedroom with him on her heels, Rick was burning hot for the first time in many months. His penis was so hard it pressed uncomfortably against his pants and he longed to free it. His breath came so fast he was practically panting. He longed to fuck her in every position possible.

  Encouraged, he walked faster. He was ready.

  Rick followed Monica into the bedroom where a queen-sized bed lay straight ahead. He was Nick now. He had to be Nick and not himself or he couldn’t do this—it was dishonest and unfair—but he wanted to so badly he couldn’t not do it. A couple of good strokes with his hand on his cock and he’d come all over the place. He was that ready. But he sure didn’t want to waste this hard-on like that. Sinking it deep into Monica’s sweet pussy was what he wanted. Needed. Sweat popped out on his forehead and his heart thumped erratically. He had to calm down and seduce her the way she wanted.

  How would a Fantasy Man go about taking her clothes off? Or would he let her undress herself? He couldn’t just rip them off the way he longed to do.

  Stopping abruptly, Monica turned and smacked into him. “You’re going to have to tell me what to do,” she said, green eyes wide.

  She had the longest, thickest lashes he’d ever seen. “Kiss me.” He tipped her chin and she wrapped her arms around him. He closed his mouth over hers and slid his tongue inside. Probing the recesses of the warm softness, he imagined he was inside of her most intimate cavern. She clung to him and he was very glad for a case of mistaken identity. He’d do his best to make her fantasies come true.

  “I think you’ll need to undress for a bath,” he said, his breath coming hard. And that wasn’t all that was hard. His penis was so swollen and taut it throbbed. Even his balls ached. Thank God he was still all man.

  “I suppose so.” She undid her jeans and let them slide down. Stepping out of them, she kicked them aside. Her legs were long and beautiful. She reached for the waistband of her white cotton bikinis and hesitated. “I feel funny getting naked when you have all your clothes on.”

  Did that brochure she had say it was okay to go all the way? He hoped it did because he was no longer sure he could stop and she’d think it was odd if he did, wouldn’t she? After all he was now the Fantasy Man. There was no going back. He peeled off his shirt, shoes and socks and then reached for her bikinis. “Let me.”

  He slid them slowly down her legs, bending his knees and enjoying every inch of the view along the way. The delicate inward coil of her navel. The tight flesh that curved over her gently rounded stomach. The curly bush that covered her mound. As she raised each foot to free it, he kissed her legs all the way to her pussy. She gasped with pleasure and straightening, Nick fondled her clit. Gently at first then faster.

  She gasped and hung onto him as if she were too weak to stand. But he couldn’t stop ye
t. “Raise your arms,” he said and he eased the sweatshirt over her head. She unfastened her own bra before he could and tossed it aside. He had to hold onto his sanity. This was supposed to be the Appeteaser and his appetite was so teased he was ready for the Main Course.

  “Are you going to take a bubble bath with me?” she asked, raising her face to his.

  “I don’t know if I’m supposed to,” he said, moving his mouth over hers and down her neck, “and I don’t know if I can.”

  “It’s an old-fashioned tub and it will be a tight squeeze but we can both fit in one way or another.” Monica lowered her lashes and smiled. She’d certainly gotten over her nervousness quickly. “Even if I have to sit on your lap.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said, his penis pulsing as he thought hard about her sitting there facing him with his cock inside her. “You’d miss out on the other courses—except intercourse—if you did that.”

  Chuckling at Nick’s remark, Monica followed him into the bathroom just in time to hear him coughing and cursing.

  “What the hell is this?” he demanded. “I nearly got strangled.”

  “It seems you found my sexy underwear.” He’d walked into her makeshift clothesline and was batting at her lacy yellow bra and panties, a blue polka-dot bra wrapped around his neck.

  “You could kill a guy with this booby trap.”

  “Booby trap?” Monica dissolved into gales of laughter. “Get it? Boobs. Boobies.”

  Nick didn’t seem to think it was as funny as she did but maybe it was because he’d knocked the clothesline down and was draped in undies.

  “Dammit, Monica. Get me loose.”

  “Is that any way for a Fantasy Man to act?” she chided gently, giggling all the while she was plucking her bras and panties off him. “There, you’re free now. Stop grumbling.”

  She left the bathroom to take the tangled line and underwear to her bedroom and when she came back Nick was running water and pouring in bubble bath. With his back to her and his shirt off and him on his knees, she could openly admire his bulging biceps, broad shoulders and the way his jeans hugged his ass. She’d felt strange at first, undressing, but after he took his shirt off she felt more comfortable. She wanted this to be an event for the two of them. And when he got tangled in the clothesline her last shred of embarrassment vanished with her laughter.

  “You’d better stop,” she warned as the bubbles began mounding and mounting.

  He turned around and glared, still pouring.

  “You said you might need my help.”

  He turned back just as the bubbles started running over the edges of the old claw foot tub. Monica had been particularly delighted over that tub because it was retro and back in style. The worn linoleum floor was something else. She hated it but hiring someone to install a new floor would be expensive and there were carpentry repairs that needed done worse.

  Nick, red-faced whether from anger or embarrassment, scooped the bubbles off the floor with his hands, and seeing he’d gotten the knees and front of his pants wet, Monica suggested he throw them in the dryer while she bathed. After anchoring her hair on top of her head with a clip she slid into the water and squealed. “You used cold water, you dumbbell.”

  Suddenly Nick’s scowl faded and he laughed. “Not totally. I mixed it but here … let me see how it feels.”

  Peeling off his pants, he tossed them across the hall into the bedroom and she gasped. He followed that with his low cut jockey shorts, and seeing his penis arching as it hovered over her she slid down in the tub until bubbles covered her chin.

  “You have a beard,” he said, chuckling as he stepped in, making a place for himself between her knees. “The bath water is cool but I’ll bet we can heat it up in a hurry.”

  “What about the main course? You said you didn’t dare…” Monica felt claustrophobic. He took up a lot of room and their … uh, private parts … were almost touching. His balls were between her legs and his cock was pointing at her. He was right about the water warming up. Beads of perspiration popped out on her lip.

  “If we play our roles right we might be able to make it through the whole menu. Just take a deep breath and relax.”

  He rubbed her calves and she closed her eyes and did what he said. “That feels wonderful. I spend a lot of time on my feet. At work I mean.”

  “What do you do?” Nick spoke softly, moving his hands up to her thighs where he continued the soothing motion.

  “I’m a hostess in a hotel restaurant. I studied culinary arts in college so I’m not working up to my potential. Jules says I’m an underachiever who runs from success. Jules is the author of a bestseller, Telling Love From Lust, so by comparison I guess I am.” Monica rolled her eyes. “How did you become a Fantasy Man? I mean it is an unusual job.”

  “I just sort of fell into it.” He parted his legs farther, putting one on either side of her hips, and scooted closer. Running his hands slowly up her stomach and onto her breasts, he began kneading them. “How do you tell love from lust?”

  “I haven’t read the book.” Her breath coming fast, she dropped her head back. “But I think I’m in lust. That feels so good.”

  “This?” he asked, squeezing her breasts a little harder. “Or this?” He pushed his hard penis against her soft stomach.

  “Both feel heavenly.”

  “You can touch me too, you know.”

  He didn’t have to ask twice. She stroked his penis with both hands, and feeling the length and breadth of it, sighed. It was marvellous. She was thirty years old and not a virgin but she’d had sexual relationships with just a few men and none of them were equipped like this. “Magnificent,” she murmured.

  He fondled her clitoris and kissed her lips softly. “You’re magnificent. And beautiful and I want to know and touch more of you but we can’t go much further without getting out of this tub.”

  Monica hated to move away from his probing fingers but she stood, eager for the next course. “What’s next on the menu?”

  Chapter Three

  Nick … for he was still Nick … rushed naked out to the living room to study the menu. Next was Erotic Entrees … They had to wait for Main Intercourse.

  “Would you like a massage?” he asked, turning around to Monica, and seeing she’d modestly donned a Chinese silk kimono, he protested. “Hey. No fair. If I’m not wearing anything you shouldn’t either.” He untied the sash and slid the robe down her back, running his tongue down her neck and shoulders. Her hair, still pulled atop her head with a plastic clip, was wet around the edges and he released it and fluffed it with his fingers. “There. That’s better.”

  She smiled and played with the hair on his chest. “Massage? Sounds good but shouldn’t we have something to eat first? I’m hungry.”

  “Me too but not for food.” Taking her hand, he looked at her questioningly. Hopefully. Things were going too well to stop but it wasn’t just about sex. They’d connected. He felt comfortable with her and she seemed to feel the same with him.

  “Okay,” she said, laughing. “You don’t have to give me those puppy dog eyes.”

  Swooping her up in his arms, he carried her to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Closing his eyes momentarily, he reassured himself. She wants a massage and even though I’m not sure how a pro does one I can please her. “Turn over on your stomach,” he said, flexing his fingers like he knew what he was doing.

  “Where are the scented oils?”

  “You don’t want to get all greasy, do you?”

  “The brochure said…”

  Fuck the brochure. He hadn’t bought scented oils for the gift baskets. He wished he could just be Rick massaging his woman instead of having to pretend he was a Fantasy Man. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  He returned with body lotion and hoped she wouldn’t quibble. Opening the bottle, he warmed the lotion between his hands before touching her.

  “Mm. Smells good,” she said. Lying on her stomach she couldn’t see t
he bottle but she sounded content, and feeling her satiny skin beneath his fingers the heat in his loins rose.

  Curling his fingers as he worked his way along her back, he caressed the sides of her breasts. Moving down, he cupped and kneaded her buttocks. She moaned softly and no longer able to resist he turned her over for a kiss. “Mm,” he said. “Your lips are delicious.” He tasted the inside of her mouth. “Champagne,” he murmured. “I love champagne,” he said, dipping deep with his tongue … tasting, caressing, exploring. “I love kissing you.”

  Breathing hard, she met his tongue with hers. She ran it across his teeth. Nibbled his lips. Plunged it deep inside his mouth.

  He pressed his hard cock against her soft stomach and she clutched his shoulders. He sucked her nipples, first one and then the other. She wiggled her soft curly mound against him and splayed her fingers over his chest, rubbing his erect nipples. He slid down the length of her so that his penis lay against the lips of her vagina. She panted and moaned. He was losing control and she was too. He’d told himself he wasn’t going all the way with her but it was going to be hard to stop.

  “I want you,” she whispered fiercely as he drew back. “I’m not married,” she added and he wondered why she was telling him that. He hadn’t thought she was. If he had he wouldn’t have gone along with any of this.

  “I’m not either, and I want you too, but we need protection. Wait.”

  “I keep forgetting this is a line of work for you.” She turned her head and he felt like a male prostitute.

  “Monica, I have a confession to make. I told you I’m new at this but I didn’t tell you how new. I started today and you’re my first … client.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” She smiled and caressed his cheek. “I know it isn’t fair to say but it would be better yet if I knew I’d be your last.”

 

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