by Hart, Romi
“No, not all over the Internet. Just to Zander.”
“And who will Zander show?”
“Nobody, promise.”
She glares at me.
“Maybe his wife.”
“Oh God! This is just what we talked about, Simeon!”
“What?”
“You are a total dog! You’re not the gentleman I thought you were.”
“Of course I am. Just because I take great pride in my wife’s perfect body…”
Denise gives me a scalding look of fire.
“I’m sorry. I said wife…hahahah…obviously you haven’t accepted my proposal.”
“Ugh! I can’t believe I slept with you!”
“Why not? Darling, I’m sorry. I really am. But nothing we did was fake. My PROPOSAL wasn’t fake. I meant every word of it. I know…I tend to be impulsive.”
I jump out of the lounge chair and follow her, gently touching her sides, not wanting her to walk away.
“A little impulsive.”
“Yeah a little, Simeon? Like saying hey, I got a woody. I might as well send a picture of my WIFE’s ass to my best bud? What kind of juvenile thinking is that? What kind of fucking boy’s club do you have going here?”
“Well…”
“No, for real. I want to know who’s part of this ring of sex perverts!”
I laugh at that one. “Jesus, Denise. I can’t be a pervert if I like ordinary fucking girls kind of sex. I’m not bi, not trans, not into fucking while dressed up like a pony. I’m just a guy who loves naked women. I love YOUR BODY the most. I was so excited, so intoxicated with your body, I had to share it. Is that so wrong?”
“No, that part isn’t wrong!” she says defiantly. “But you having this weird sexual thing with your best friend is what’s wrong, Simeon.”
“Look…” I wag my head down and grunt in apology. “I know I screwed up. I snapped a picture without asking. I’m sorry.”
“Right, which I did not mind. But then you sent it to Zander and that’s not okay.”
“I know. It was childish.”
“No it was more like perverted teenager shenanigans! The kind of shit jocks do when they’re in fucking high school! I mean God…how old are you?”
“I know,” I sigh. “I sort of skipped my teenage years and went straight into college studies. Not much of a love life until after the millions of dollars.”
“Riiiiight,” she said, eying me in suspicion. “Well let me tell you something, Mister Millionaire. I don’t give a fuck about all your millions. I can make millions. The next job promotion I get, I will be a millionaire. No, not a billionaire like you. But a million is more than enough money for me to live happily ever after, with my privacy intact. And fuck, I’ll have like a lot less WEIRD furniture than you do!”
“I guess I deserve that.”
“You deserve a lot more than that!”
“I’m sorry. You know to be completely honest…”
She folds her arms but listens.
“Zander is…well, he’s like a brother to me. It’s not something I really think about too often. I share everything with the very few people I love. Zander always sent me photos of his girlfriends, because hell, HIS girlfriends loved it. They were exhibitionists. They loved it when rich guys look through their photos.”
I interrupt Denise just as she started to flip out. “I know, I know, you don’t. I get that now. I promise, it won’t ever happen again.”
She remains silent but stews quietly, looking at my face, trying to figure out how she feels about me being a rich man-child and all.
“I’m sorry I violated your privacy.”
“Uh huh…” she said cautiously. “Yes you did. And what will Zander do with that photo?”
“Ummm…I don’t know. Probably jerk off while looking at it...”
She shakes her head.
“Or he’ll go down on Maya while she looks at it, I dunno. They’re both very uh…eccentric when it comes to sex.”
“Jesus Christ!” she says, right before erupting into laughter. Well that’s a good sign.
“I swear to god, I never knew how perverted men really are until I started dating you, Simeon.”
“I know,” I say with a head-tilt. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“And I used to think you were so innocent too.”
I laugh it off. “Well shame on you then,” I say with a boisterous laugh getting her ire back up. “If you thought for just one moment that I didn’t want to fuck you, then you were fooling yourself. All men want is sex. I can’t believe you don’t get that by now.”
“Uh huh?”
“But AFTER they have sex, that’s when their heart becomes involved. That’s when they feel an emotional connection to their lover. And once that emotional element is added to the sex, well, that’s when the real magic happens.”
“Huh interesting,” she says, still dueling me with her wild eyes. At least she’s smiling again. “So are you saying that because we never had sex while I was married to Mickey, that you weren’t actually in love with me?”
“That’s right.”
She drops her mouth open. “Really? So why did you propose? That means your whole romantic proposal about waiting for the right time, and all that eternal moment bullshit was all a play!”
“Yeah but honey, sweety, let’s be honest. You didn’t want me back then.”
“Excuse me?”
“You didn’t want me back then. There was no attraction. Don’t deny it. NOW…tell me if you want me.”
“If I want you? After I’ve discovered what a pervert you really are?”
“That’s right,” I say, approaching her and ready to fuck her against the wall. “I am a pervert. Because every time I see you in that tight swimsuit, I just want to feel you from the inside.”
“You’re disgusting,” she says, raising her chin and struggling not to smile.
“I am. But this time, I’m going to score with you. Because this time, I know you want me. You can’t resist me.”
Her nostrils flare as I come inching closing to her, the sex glowing from my body. My desire for her is palpable. She taunts me with those breasts, that perfect ass. When she’s angry at me, I get so hard. When she’s kind to me, I want to taste her. God, the woman can do no wrong!
I grab her in a kiss and she kisses me back with rage. We break the kiss apart only to fall back into the throes of passion. She pushes me away from her lips and brings her whole arm out to swing.
She can’t help but smile…as she very softly slaps my face.
“You are a naughty boy.”
“And I believe you’re a naughty girl,” I say as I place hot kisses on her neck, down to her chest and right into that bulging cleavage that calls my name.
“Mmmm…” she coos, as I dig her huge breasts out of that tight swimsuit, thirstily searching for her nipple. “Is that what you like, Denise? A big strong, RICH man to take your clothes off and tell you what to do?”
“Mmmm maybe,” she says, shutting her eyes as I graze her left nipple with my lips. “I’m not an easy kind of girl.”
“Aren’t you?” I say, pulling those red straps over her head and letting her swimsuit droop down. I shove her top down to her waist exposing her beautiful titties. That look she gives me, right before I suck on her nipples—that look of surrender, that look of “come hither.”
She wants me to take her, to make love to her and to tell her exactly what I want to do. You, the clean wholesome and married woman who rejected me? What do I want to take from you? From you?
I grab her breasts with my hands and suckle her nipples, one by one, licking and sucking, just enough to hear her squeal in passion. I kiss my way down her bare breasts down to her tummy and lower still to her waist. The perfect little tummy, not too trim or slim, but very sexy and curvy. I get so hot kissing her every fold, her every crevice, making love not just to her sweet spot but EVERY bit of skin she has. I want to taste her, smell her, feel her every m
orsel.
“Mmmmmm yeah.”
I pull down the rest of her swimsuit to the floor, just so I can gaze at her brown trimmed bush. I rub my face in her pubic hair as she steps out of the torn suit. I greedily jump in just to taste her clit, her yummy aching clit. She wants me. Her eyes, focused and intense, tells me she wants me. She just can’t figure out WHY.
She breaks away from me as I start licking her clit to early orgasm.
“Uh uh…” she says with a coy smile. “I don’t trust you.”
“Oh?” I say, following her as she starts to run towards the exit. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you, nasty man!”
“You can run…but you can’t hide.”
“Oh yeah? Watch me!” she bounces away, completely naked, and escapes back into my hall corridor. I get so randy at the thought…chasing my lover around all these lonely thick walls. I never felt so alive until I found her again. I can’t deny that…furniture, objects and money, meaningless…unless they can get her attention.
I catch up to Denise as she runs up the stairs, still buck naked and screaming in delight.
“I see that ass of yours!”
“I know you do! And you’re going to send it to all your friends!”
“I promise I won’t. Unless…you want me to send it.”
“NO I don’t!” she screams down at me, right before retreating into a guest bedroom.
“I think you got horny at the thought. You know, of me showing you off to other guys. It surprised you…how horny you felt. Admit it.”
She says nothing.
“I know you. You’re a naughty girl. It just takes the right man to bring all that repressed passion out of you.”
I walk into the guest bedroom, looking for her, playing hide and go seek with my fuck buddy. How quaint.
I am surprised to see a pissy looking Denise waiting for me right by the door.
“That’s not true,” she says with a mean face.
“Isn’t it?” I say, reaching in for another kiss.
Just as I touch her lips she blocks me with a finger. “Is that what you think of me? I’m just some sexually repressed spinster of a woman?”
“You said it, not me.”
“I am not!”
Denise wanders away from me, closer to the balcony, which sits right outside the guestroom.
“Then prove it to me. Let me take you right here, right now.”
“Right here? With the open balcony? Aren’t there neighbors out there that can hear us?”
“GOOD. I want them to hear you cum. Your orgasm is like music to me.”
“Noo…” she said, back to smiling. “I’m not a voyeur like you are. I’m a nice girl. Very vanilla.”
“So you think,” I say as I inch closer to her, the two of us now out on the balcony looking below on the city that I might as well own.
“I’m not!” she corrects, wide eyed and pointing. She’s taunting me with her eyes but her quivering mouth tells the real story.
“I’m going to fuck you in front of the whole city!”
I grab her into my arms, butt first. I lift her up by her bubbly ass and support her in air, my arms flexing with all their might and feeling the burn.
“Ohhhh! Fuck me!” she screams out, caught off guard by my sweeping her off her feet. I walk her all the way to the balcony edge so she can feel the nighttime breeze caressing her skin.
“Going to fuck some respect into you, Denise,” I say, balancing her with one arm while I use the free one to pull down my underwear. I didn’t get it fully off but enough to show my big burning cock.
I hold her with both hands and ease my cock head into her open snatch.
“Ohhhh yeah!” she bellows out as I shove my cock deeper inside that moist paradise, dangerously close to the balcony top. But neither of us care…we’re so deep in each other, we’ve lost all fear of death and all semblance of life. We just want to become linked, become lost in each other’s souls.
“Mmmm!” I grunt, sliding deeper inside her wetness. Having just her perfect butt cheeks to clasp onto, I find myself getting turned on way too fast. My dick is being jostled back and forth and creamed without mercy. I can’t resist her much longer.
Oh God, she’s so beautiful. I can’t help but sneak a peek at her face even in the midst of all this mad passion. Her mouth wide open and her whole face shivering. Her eyes are squinting, she feels the hard grasp just like I do. She looks into my eyes and doesn’t change her expression.
My face makes her cum. I watch in agony as she cums all over my cock, right at the same time I lose myself inside her. I grab her back and hold on while gripping her neck, drawing her face closer to my shoulder
“Ohhhhh Jesus!” she bites my shoulder right as I cuuuuuum deep into her wet pussy. “Ohhhh fuck! Denise!”
“YES!” she hollers aloud, shaking violently back and forth and jerking every last drop of cum out of my shivering body.
“Ahhhh God!” I moan, still holding her in the air, now grabbing her ass cheeks as I move away from the balcony, suddenly very conscious of the risk of throwing her overboard on accident.
I set her down on the ground, both her legs and mine are wobbly. We take turns laughing at our spontaneous fuckathon.
She runs her fingers through her hair, that sexed up face, those dreamy eyes that are still high from orgasm.
“Let me take your picture,” I say.
She smiles and laughs…sounding more intoxicated this time. “You’re terrible.”
“I am. Now hold your arm over your head. Raise your breast so I can get your perfect afterglow face in the shot.”
She smiles and resists…until she finally does it. YES…a tingle goes through my body as I watch her do exactly as instructed. Her eyes, her subservient, lustful eyes gaze at me. I’ve taken everything I wanted from her…and yet I want more. I desire everything about her that I can’t touch. Her heart, her mind, her soul.
Her beautiful bare breasts bouncing down as she caresses her frizzy hair, giving me a sexy come-hither look. That post-orgasm, fucked silly look that I desire to see on Denise every second of every day.
“Thank you,” I whisper, too turned on to even think of more to say.
“Let me guess you’re going to send it to your friend.”
“No, I won’t.”
“You know what?” she says, miffed but still grinning. “I don’t care if you do. If you boys want to worship my body that much?”
“Yeah?” I say in excitement.
“If you have only nice things to say about me…I don’t care if you show me off. I want to be your work of art.”
I chuckle as I snap a series of sexy shots. “You are my work of art. Perfect in every way, every shape. You inspire the poet in me, Denise.”
Chapter 9
Denise
Simeon explained to me earlier today that he was suffering from “creative stress.” While I did offer sex as a de-stresser, he was convinced he needed a vacation. I was certainly not one to invade his privacy and so wished him all the best on his time of solitude. But…to my surprise, he said he wanted me to go with him.
The problem was, he had a meeting to attend in Barcelona! Christ…that’s a long way…hours of flying time. And usually when I have to travel, I go by train or car. When I have to fly…er…I DON’T! I’ve taken only two plane rides in my life and I got so sick on the flight, out of paranoia and fear, I promised myself I would never go.
And there was Simeon, all but begging me to come with him. I wanted to go on vacation…but flying. I always am a nervous wreck.
I have a dreadful fear of flying, or shall I say, suddenly not flying. They say that the way to avoid flight fear is to distract yourself with good thoughts. But nothing seems to work…
Well…except one thing. Thinking about my future with Simeon Hollock. If there is a future…no, wait, think happy thoughts there is one! As usual, Simeon seems oblivious to the numerous threats that exist for even the safe
st pilots. I guess his macho personality is what protects his feelings from the world, but for me, someone who sees risks everywhere…all I see is potential catastrophe. God, I do the same thing in relationships don’t I?
I keep trying to tell myself that it’s a control thing…maybe it’s always been a control thing. I know flying is a million times safer than driving. I know that. And yes I am probably going to die in the shower, statistically speaking, than the odds are of a plane crash. Still…my body doesn’t understand logic. All I feel is dread.
Besides, I know for a fact that people do and have died on flights before. That’s evidence enough for me. I mean even if I’m not afraid of terrorists or a nosedive crash, just the idea of an engine blowing out or a window breaking is enough to scare me shitless. At least if I’m driving I have a small chance of surviving, even if I’m crippled. If I crash 30,000 feet in the air, I’m fucking dead! And a woman like me well, of course I’m going straight to hell!
Leave it to my good friend Simeon to tell the flight attendants I was a nervous wreck. They let us pre-board the plane…though that very well could have been because he’s a billionaire and all that.
Now, we’re ready for take-off. I’m sitting here watching the stewardesses and other crew keep calm…they almost look sleepy. They do this all the time, so why am I so nervous?
The lift off is next, that sickening feeling of going down the runway and rising into air. It never fails to scare the crap out of me! I really think this is the worst part of flying for me. I take a drink of alcohol…anything to calm my nerves. I haven’t actually told Simeon I’m flipping out…but I do think he senses my discomfort.
Alas, the perfect gentleman, he doesn’t tease me about it. He just taps my hand, letting me know all is well. Fourteen-hours to go, nonstop, and I have nothing else to do but worry about plane crashes AND my uncertain relationship.
I know I have love for Simeon. But are we in love? Dammit, why is Simeon so flipping calm right now, anyway? Even now, while scared to death I can’t help but admire Simeon’s sleek haircut. His soulful, deep eyes. His boyish smile and his hard-chiseled face with gristle on his chin. He really has the face of a movie star.
