by Fifi Flowers
Mason and I were both close to thirty—he was one year on the other side of it while I was twenty-nine—and we couldn’t even be a normal couple even though we seemed a good match. The computer said we were number one for each other, but Mason wanted to test his site. So be it, I was done with it for personal use and I hoped that it would garner me some new salon clients for my staff.
“What are you doing here?” I raised an eyebrow in his direction as I watched him.
“I… I was coming to swim and I heard the guys from the first floor apartment talking about a hot guy being in your apartment and that they didn’t blame you for taking off work to be with him.” Was he for real, I thought to myself, shaking my head.
“And you thought you would barge in and stop the fun? Or did you think about rescuing me? What if I was fucking him or all of them? What were you going to do then?” Suddenly, I burst out laughing. It really wasn’t funny, but I couldn’t help myself. I was seeing Mason in his speedo walking in on me being ravaged by the construction crew.
Before he could respond, a knock sounded at my door. “Excuse me, Vivienne, we’re done if you want to come take a look.”
“Damn! I’ll be right there,” I yelled out, dropping my towel and going into my walk-in closet to pull on a long, non-sexy robe that covered all of my bits and pieces.
“You’re going out in that?” His voice was gruff.
“Yes, unless you think my towel was better?” He snarled as I pushed past him as I went to praise the crew on an incredible job, so I stopped short of walking into the hallway. “Oh, and by the way, the guys downstairs love when you pop in to swim in your tiny banana hammock.” Then I laughed and disappeared from his line of sight.
Entering the open space, I gasped. I knew the new openings were going to give me an even more spectacular view from inside, but it was even better than I envisioned. I also knew that the lead contractor was going to try once more to sway me to remove the stucco wall that surrounded the large balcony area that held two black iron chaise lounges, a round teak table with four black iron chairs and a mocha colored market umbrella. And while it would provide a better view, I valued the privateness. So once again, I agreed that it would be amazing and then told him no, followed by thanking him, paying him, and watching them leave with all of their equipment.
Then I addressed the hot man I last saw fuming in my bedroom, standing in my living room. “The coast is clear. I’m safe. Aren’t you going to go swim?” I asked, sauntering to my fridge. It was definitely cocktail hour, and I had a bottle of Chardonnay with my name on it.
“Pour me a glass,” he said, followed by, “please,” when I arched an eyebrow.
Grabbing another glass from the cabinet, I did as he asked. “Do you want pizza? I think I’ll have some delivered.” I pushed the half-filled glass across the island to him.
“I thought you didn’t like white wines? Do you still have stuff to make pizza? I’ll make one, if you do.” I looked at him as if to say why are you here and why are you wanting to stay and why aren’t you off with one of your test subjects combing touristy spots. Something was up with him. “What? Your homemade pizza was the best.”
Hmmmm, I thought before I answered him. “Yes, I have everything. Go for it… I’ll be back.” I started to walk out of the kitchen to go take the shower I had been denied. “Oh, and about the white, I went to a wine pairing dinner and Darla talked me into taking a couple different whites home with me. Be back.” I turned and quickly sashayed my ass into the shower, leaving him to wonder if I had a date. It was obvious he was jealous earlier with the workers in my apartment. I had to laugh to myself thinking of what he may have been conjuring up in his head about the wine event I had attended.
Under the steamy, hot water, my mind raced to Mason spanking me on our first night together as the spray tickled my pert nipples. The feel was shooting ooh la la sparks to my pearl below my lusty nest, tantalizing—as were the slaps and caresses to my round bottom. And I wondered if he was standing or fuming in my kitchen thinking about spanking me for having half naked men in my apartment and taunting him with a possible date. I had noticed his one hand curling into a fist while his other threatened to shatter the wine glass. I smiled and hurried through my cleansing, dressed, and went to rejoin my uninvited, gorgeous guest that I hoped might be crashing at my place if I plied him with just enough wine to inhibit his driving ability. However, not too much to affect his performance ability… I wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to partake in an amazing fuck.
Chapter Six…
Sadly, neither of those two things happened; he didn’t get too drunk to drive nor did he perform any sexual favors to my body. He did stay the night, and we did kiss a few times on the couch while watching an action packed, spy comedy. Something about two of the main characters’ bantering had me thinking of us and I had to laugh even more. They were a bit more snarky and cutting to each other, but I felt the sexual tension building between them and loved how they ended up in the film. I must say that their finish was far more explosive and fulfilling than ours as we only slept in my bed.
And when I awoke alone, with only a note beside me, “went for a swim,” my apartment suddenly seemed big, empty and a bit lonely. I should’ve known he was using me for more than my brilliant mind and body… it was my pool that he was after. That was why he had really come over… for my pool with its nice deck area. Not that he was interested in the area around it. He was, like my father, interested in its all around six-foot depth. My father had been a swimmer in high school and college and wanted it to swim laps daily. My mother always talked about how mad she was that it wasn’t safe, not a good pool for a child, and made me wear a life vest until I became a good swimmer. Luckily, we never had any other kids living in the building, so it was never an issue other than with me. And my father had me swimming like a pro by the time I was three or four—that age is debated between my parents still to this day.
The guys on the first floor—who tell me that they are never moving out—used the area the most. I swear they barbecued something every night on the built-in grill that my father also had installed. Some nights they nearly killed me. Their food smelled so good! The other tenants seem to never be around but on weekends; the second floor unit has been occupied by a childless, professional couple for years, and the apartment right below me has been used by several flight attendants for as long as I can remember. My parents were skeptical about renting to a revolving door of people but so far it hasn’t been a problem at all.
I couldn’t blame them for staying. The place is situated in a desirable area known as Bankers Hill. It belonged to my parents who inherited it from my father’s grandfather. It was a bit rundown when they got it. Those were the nicest words my mother used to describe it as it was still decorated from the seventies when they moved in. Shag carpet everywhere in a lovely shade of lime green, dark wood paneling, and popcorn ceilings. The exterior elements were great. Especially, the top unit—where I have lived my entire life, thus far—with its huge balcony with a spectacular view of the downtown San Diego area, the harbor, Coronado Island, and the Pacific beyond. If not for that incredibly beautiful and amazing attribute, I think my mother would’ve begged my father to sell it. Instead, they chose to invest in remodeling the interior for us to live in and as tenants moved out, they eventually did the other three rental units.
They had a hard time leaving the building behind… and me, but my father was offered his dream job at NASA in Florida. He was the nerdy, handsome guy that spent his weekends out in a big open field flying remote airplanes and shooting off rockets he had constructed during the week. It was a new adventure that included a new family for them. They had me when they were only nineteen years old and never got pregnant again until they touched down in Florida, giving me siblings that are nineteen and twenty-one years younger than me. My mother has them hitting the modeling circuit, like she did me, while my father works on launching things into space or something li
ke that—confidential and classified, we never hear details.
Not wanting to sell the building or leave me without a home, my parents transferred the title of the building to me. I believe they felt guilty walking out on their eighteen year old daughter. And I have to say it was quite a shock at first, but then it was pretty cool once I redecorated it to look like a place sorority girl Elle Woods would live in. However, I tired of that look fast and toned it down, making it look more like a sophisticated adult lived in it with modern furniture and neutral shades. And remembering the new addition of accordion doors, I popped out of bed to start my day alone in my favorite way—nude sunbathing.
I love that my balcony is private enough for my sun worshipping practice. Not too much, but enough to give my body a nice warm sun-kissed glow. I never put my face in the sun for very long and when I do, I make sure to wear sunscreen to prevent wrinkles. Being an ex-model, the importance of one’s skin is drummed into you daily, along with stand up straight, and watch your calorie count.
My breakfast of spicy coffee accompanied with crispy, apricot jelly drenched waffles before heading out for some sunshine would not please my mother at all. Even the way I stood at the counter, slumped over shoveling them in would warrant a disapproving glare and comment, for certain. Well, if I didn’t get to start the day off in a naughty fashion, I would make up for it breaking some childhood rules and who knew what else… I was feeling rambunctious. However, not enough to go out somewhere. My wide open patio area was calling my name, begging me to spend a day on it filled with sunshine and clear blue skies. “Vivienne, off with the clothes! Come tan your fine tush!” Giving into the enticing words, I dropped my clothing right there in the kitchen, tapped my phone screen to activate my Bluetooth speaker system, and slid onto an inviting lounge chair, listening to sounds that had me feeling like I was in my own little paradise.
However, my slice of heaven was invaded with a gruff man’s voice. “I should spank you!”
Startled at first, I jumped. I hadn’t expected his return and I had forgotten that I had given him my parents’ private elevator code. Deciding it might be a nice surprise after all, I hooded my face with my hand and looked up to see one gorgeous Mason wearing a pair of khaki board shorts with an unzipped, pale olive green, hoodie-style sweat jacket. Hot!
“Hello to you too… where’s lunch?” I could be casual—he’d already seen me naked before and… why not have a little of fun, toying with him a bit? “You know you really do not match your profession. I think you should disclose that you look like the boy next door, but you fuck and act like a badass. Talk about looks being deceiving… Saylor was right.”
“You are always teasing and taunting me with your a-fucking-mazing body… and that pink soul patch.” His eyes were glaring down at the lusty nest between my thighs as I lounged on a cushioned chaise on my back before he sat down on a chair at my table, a short distance away.
“I told you before, it is not a soul patch.”
“Well, it does something to my soul when I see it.” I think it did something to his pants as well… Made them too tight, cutting off circulation to his brain via his big, la la beautiful dick excitedly lengthening and growing thicker.
“Fuck! I can’t work with you lying there naked.”
“Well then, do something about it,” I smirked at him, tossing my arms up over my head, hooking my hands on the cushion, accentuating and lifting my breast. Then I watched, amused as he scrapped the chair legs back on the tile, got up. Only my smile suddenly faded from my face as he walked inside. Not what I had envisioned at all. Definitely not what I had in mind when he returned moments later with a garment in his hand. I had been thinking condoms, not cover up, and I had to laugh knowing that the white, spaghetti strap, slip dress was practically see through as it was a beach cover up.
Standing up to put it over my head, a cranky Mason complained that people would see my nakedness. I just shook my head. “Only people in planes or helicopters can see me.” Then I let the flimsy garment fall down my body. “Is that better?” I knew it was not.
“Holy shit! I hope you never wear that out of the house.”
I grinned from ear to ear and ignored him, made my way to my umbrella covered table swaying my hips as I moved. Then I sat down and reached for the stack of papers Mason had brought with him. When he mentioned going over some of my quirky business ideas, I thought that we would meet later during the week to go over them. It appeared that the kisses and sleeping in the same bed were a friend zone thing and not leading anywhere. Pizza, wine, movie, sleep, pool, business… his list was much different than the one in my head; making out, heavy petting, licking, sucking, fucking.
My brain said, “ooh la la!” And his mouth blurted, “What the hell is this music?” as he joined me and sat in the chair across from me.
“It’s sexy, isn’t it?” I raised an eyebrow. It is the perfect fucking music. “Sade. Her voice says relaxation… vacation… it has a breezy sensation… romance…”
My words were stilled as Mason practically leaped across the table, ripped—no actual tears, thankfully because I love it—my naked dress from my body, and had me over his lap with my bottom facing up. “Yes, yes, yes,” my body screamed, “We got him! We won!” While, my pink cheeks weren’t as thrilled until they were lovingly caressed and then kissed before he righted me on his lap and captured my mouth with his lush lips.
I moaned and let his tongue invade my mouth while I wrapped my arms around his neck. Heaven! Pure ooh la la heaven! My heart raced uncontrollably in my chest, there was no way I could get it to slow down, and I felt like it just might burst. I was so concerned about it and lost in his mouth that I hadn’t even noticed that we had moved to one of the chaise lounges. I couldn’t believe that he was naked with me. I had just been reprimanded for nudity and yet his beautiful nakedness was sliding with mine. I had no intention of pointing that out then or ever, I just thanked my lucky stars for his sense of adventure.
I loved everything about how he swirled his hips and he plunged inside of me. His perfect anatomy stroked my pink pearl, flowing over it one way and then back the other direction. I found myself free falling, diving further and further into lust with him… bordering on love. I loved his body. I loved his lips… his hands… his legs entwined with mine… his whole being that had me feeling butterflies in my belly. All foreign sensations to me—except with Mason—as we rocked into each other, striving for the same erupting ending. Our timing together with a medley of pants, moans, and groans had all of the makings of an amazing finish that quite possibly was heard all the way to the harbor as we collapsed in each other’s arms.
Oh my God! Yes! Yes! Yes! Again! Again! Again!
I prayed that I could keep him coming back and playing with me over and over again. I was willing to do what he liked, but I wasn’t certain if he would be wandering off to a strictly business arrangement once again. I was hoping that we could mix business with pleasure. Lots and lots of record breaking strokes of naughtiness. I just needed to find a way to keep Mason on board, convince him to not only swim in the cool blue water of my pool but between the sheets of my bed as well.
Chapter Seven…
Amazing that a salon visit might have been the ultimate answer to finding out where Mason and I were heading, or not. And he… yes, he came in the form of one scruffy yet extremely good-looking guy with long bleached out hair seated in a black leatherette hydraulic seat that allowed me to pump clients up and down to get a better angle. I smiled to myself thinking that sounded kind of dirty. I assessed him while looking at his reflection in a black full-length mirror, similar to the one in my foyer at home, that adorned every station. My guess was that he was a brunette under all of his wavy blond strands—maybe a surfer.
“What can I do for you today?” I asked, running my fingers through his thick locks while he stared back at me in the mirror.
“Are we talking about my hair or something else?” He smirked and arched a brow and
reminded me instantly of Mason. Shaking my head, he told me to cut it off that he was contemplating going back to the business world after failing to make first string on his water polo team. A younger goal keeper had knocked him out of his spot. Agreeing to help him, I sent him off to have his hair washed by my assistant.
When he returned from the shampoo area, I grabbed the brushed chrome handle of the white lucite cabinetry—that I had installed when I remodeled the salon—and pulled out, a comb, hair clips and scissors. Ready to dive in, his first long curl hit the floor and he looked down. “A lot more of those are going to fall. You might want to keep your head up if you want a symmetrical haircut.”
“I was actually admiring the floors. They looked great, like they’ve been splattered with paint… like a Jackson Pollack painting.”
“Good-looking and art smart, nice.” I smiled at him in the mirror. I had removed the old black and white checkered floor to expose the concrete beneath and then had an artist come in to give the look he had mentioned and then had it sealed.
“So you’re the one that has my cousin running scared.” My hands stilled as I looked up. “You’re cousin?” He had to mean Mason and that was probably why he had me thinking of him.
“Mason.” Confirmation! “If you want him the way he wants you, you’re going to have to totally rattle his cage—call his bluff. Tell him you’re going to be dating me. I guarantee you’ll see how fast he comes running. You have the real control you know,” he arched his eyebrow in a way that had me wondering if he was familiar with his cousin’s dominant preferences. Then my mouth dropped a bit with his next words. “It’s all about the power of the pussy!”
