by Bebe Balocca
“You want me to come in your mouth?” he asked in a pained voice. “Really?”
“Oh, God, yes,” Chloe grunted around a mouthful of cock. She swirled her tongue over his shaft.
“You want to swallow it? Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh.” Chloe nodded enthusiastically, sucking harder. She moved her hips faster against the vibrator.
“Here it comes, then,” he groaned.
Chloe stiffened, her own orgasm crashing down around her. With every nerve jangling in bliss, she felt Damien’s hot semen fill her mouth. She swallowed every jet of creamy cum, her senses aflame with his taste and thickness, and her body singing with the orgasm aided by a vibrating length of silicone.
When every drop was pulled from his tip and swallowed down her throat, Chloe slid his erection from her lips and sat up straight. She pulled the dripping, vibrating toy from her cunt and turned it off. “That was awesome,” she told him, still breathing heavily. “I’ve never let anybody come in my mouth before. I was afraid it would taste bad. But it was really, really, really good, Damien. I’d like to make that a regular part of my diet.”
Damien exhaled deeply. “I haven’t allowed anyone to touch me since my divorce, Chloe. I can tell you, it’s never, ever felt like this before. Not with anyone. You’re changing something in me. I feel like something frozen is thawing out.”
Chloe wiped a drop of cum-flavoured drool from the side of her mouth and smiled. “Yeah, I know just what you mean,” she agreed. “I feel like I lost my inhibitions when I gained the ability to get off. It was a pretty good trade.” She chuckled softly. “But it’s not just the sex, Damien. This whole thing—your session with me, the job, and whatever’s going on between us—is kind of a dream come true. I wonder where it’ll lead?” Chloe unbuckled the belts and untied his necktie to free him.
Chloe let Damien take her hands and ease her down onto the sofa. She settled on his lap and felt him plant a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. “I can’t wait to find out,” he breathed into her ear.
Chapter Eleven
Three months later…
Damien stood next to Chloe with a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon in his hand. He beamed at her then turned to the crowd of excited guests that had gathered in the striking dining room. Deep indigo carpeting, speckled with silver flecks blanketed the floors, and gleaming chandeliers formed of twisted tubes of steel hung from the ceilings. Windows lined the walls and stars shimmered through the skylights. Aluminium dining furniture, a sparkling tiered fountain, and an outdoor fireplace beckoned on the open-air patio. This night was the culmination of a business dream come true for him. He felt a surge of hope rise from his belly up to his throat. With luck, he thought, it would be a dream come true in an even more important part of his life.
“Welcome, everyone. None of us are strangers here, of course, and many of you know each other quite well.” A ripple of laughter filled the room. “Please bear with me, friends, and indulge me with a few moments of your time before our opening celebration begins in earnest. You have all shared your lives so generously with me in the past few years. Tonight I feel compelled to share some of my own life with you.
“I am grateful for many things tonight,” Damien continued. “I love my therapy practice, first and foremost. It allows me to free others from troublesome habits and mindsets that interfere with their personal happiness. As you know, I derive great satisfaction from that.”
A smattering of applause and a thundering call of “Thank you, Damien!” from Arnaud interrupted his speech.
“I also am grateful for Volare, my club. Our club, I should say, because I consider you all part of the Volare family. You are an integral part of what I do. We achieve good things together.”
More laughter, applause, and a shouted “That’s right, baby!” from Monica punctuated his sentiment. Melanie and Bruce high-fived and hugged each other.
“Today, we officially open Razzo, our new dining room at Volare. As you may have guessed, I chose the name Volare for my club because I wanted it to be a place where people could get past their emotional hang-ups and learn to soar.” He looked around the room of joyful faces. Gratitude emanated from every face in the room, and Damien drank it in. Monica gave him a gleeful thumbs-up.
“Our new restaurant is called Razzo. Razzo is the Italian word for rocket—something that can take you to unexpected and wonderful locations. I intend for Razzo to be an exciting, festive place with an interesting and exotic array of options on the menu.”
“Just like Volare’s patrons!” Paul shouted from the back of the room. His words were greeted with cheers of agreement.
Damien chuckled. “We built Razzo on the roof of Volare so that we could enjoy our gorgeous Atlanta nights. I think a view of the starry sky will remind us that we can aim for the heavens in our personal lives. We can shoot for paradise, and we can find it. I am hopeful that you’ll bring friends to Razzo, but please bear in mind that pre-authorisation is required for visitors who are new to the establishment.”
Damien took Chloe’s hand in his and lifted it to his lips for a kiss. “My trusty accountant has helped me immeasurably during the renovation and construction process,” he continued, “as well as with other aspects of my therapy business. Even more than her business contributions, which have been monumental, Chloe has helped me sort out my own emotional baggage.”
Damien spied Danielle and Gene cuddling in the crowd. Since the couple had moved to alternating weeks of activity and meal planning—and Danielle had got a fun, rewarding job as a personal shopper at the mall—their relationship had bloomed. He was delighted to see that, combined with Gene and Danielle’s love for each other, Chloe’s take-turns strategy had paid off.
“We love you, Chloe!” Danielle and Gene called from the assembled crowd. “Go, Chloe! You rock!” Damien turned to see a delicate blush tint Chloe’s face. She smiled and blew kisses at her friends in the crowd, looking every bit the beauty queen in front of an admiring audience. She deserves every bit of their adoration and more, Damien thought.
“I love you, too!” she laughed.
“After my parents’ deaths ten years ago,” Damien went on, “I rushed headlong into marriage. I was lonely and lost. I thought that getting married would somehow bring back the sense of family that I missed, but it was a terrible mistake. I see now that I shouldn’t fault my ex-wife for leaving me, because I was never truly available for her. I was still in the grips of intense grief. However, her actions felt like a betrayal at the time. The divorce crushed me and left me feeling completely unlovable.” Chloe squeezed his hand, and he knew that she accepted him and every foolish mistake he’d ever made.
He continued, “After our divorce, I knew that I wanted to help others find love and the freedom to enjoy their sexuality, but I didn’t realise that I was denying happiness to myself at the same time. I felt like I had to give everything to others, since I had failed so thoroughly at giving in my marriage. By sharing yourselves with me, you all helped me learn to let myself be loved again, but it took someone special to convince me to really take the leap. I’ve tossed my baggage, thanks to Chloe, and gained something truly extraordinary. It’s a pretty awesome trade.”
Damien felt Chloe’s palm become slick with sweat. He wondered if she had an inkling of what was about to happen. If things unfolded as he hoped, the past few months would be only a short, sweet appetiser before a fabulous nine-course feast. Thank God I found her, he thought for the millionth time, and that she is free of that idiot ex-boyfriend. And thank God she’s exactly who she is, because no one else could have helped me let go of the past.
“Thanks to all of you and especially to Chloe, I’ve healed. I think I’m a stronger, better person now. I’ve learnt how to share and take turns, and I value fairness more than I ever have.” He gave Chloe a knowing grin. “Welcome, friends, to Razzo!” Damien popped the top from his bottle of champagne and the room resounded with cheers. Servers emerged from the kitchen doors with
trays of filled champagne glasses for the guests while Damien filled crystal flutes for himself and Chloe.
* * * *
Chloe sipped her sparkling wine and felt perfect happiness. The last several months had been a blissfully busy blur. That first day, Volare’s financial books had been more twisted than the fusilli bucati on Razzo’s menu. After she’d straightened them out, she established a sound accounting strategy for both Volare and Razzo.
Along the way, she and Damien had learnt that she had a knack with clients. The two of them had become a team. She offered humour during the potentially embarrassing parts of therapeutic exercises. Her open, playful mannerisms helped put clients at ease, while Damien’s skilful assessments and techniques continued to deliver success. She and Damien now served an average of four clients each week. In addition, they co-managed Volare. Razzo would add a new element to their lives, but Chloe had assembled a team of new employees—all former clients—whom she expected would ease their growing pains.
Chloe slid a hand through Damien’s wavy hair and pulled him to her for a kiss. Tasting his tender mouth, flavoured with fine champagne, sent a thrill down her throat that settled in a warm, slippery place between her legs. As she had countless times over the past few months, she traced her fingertips down the side of his face, from the soft indentation next to his eye, past his warmly roughened cheek, and down to the strong line of his jaw. He felt like heat, stone and security—a living rock to lean into and a sturdy base from which something wonderful could grow.
We’ve become more than a working team, she admitted to herself. Damien is more than a boss, or a partner, or even a lover. It’s happened. I love everything about him. I love us together. I love him.
Feeling his lips on hers and his strong arms around her back, Chloe knew that her life simply couldn’t get any better than it was in that moment. This was as good as it could possibly be, and it was totally fabulous. She hummed with feline satisfaction as Damien grazed kisses down her jaw and neck. “I love you, Chloe,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear. “I really do.”
Chloe felt a thrill that started in her ear and swept over her entire body. “Yeah,” she giggled, tongue-tied. “Me too.” She turned his face to hers and kissed him deeply, sliding her hand down to cup his ass and give it a light squeeze. “I love you, too, that is,” she clarified, leaning back to look into his eyes. “You make me so happy, Damien.”
Joy flickered in his eyes. Damien removed her hands from his body and kissed her knuckles softly, then dropped to one knee in front of her.
“Oh my God!” Chloe squeaked. The room grew hushed around them.
Damien withdrew a small black velvet box from his pocket. He looked up at Chloe with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what the future will hold, Chloe. I know that it won’t always be smooth and worry-free. I also know that I need to have you in it to make me whole. I love you so much, Chloe. Please say you’ll be my wife.”
He opened the box and held it up to Chloe. Inside was a platinum ring, fashioned in the stylised shape of a bird in flight. Diamonds encrusted the gracefully curved wings. “Because you make me soar, Chloe,” Damien said softly.
Chloe traced her fingers over the diamonds and bit her lip. “It’s so beautiful, Damien. I don’t know what to say.”
He pulled the ring from the box and took Chloe’s left hand in his. Placing the ring at her fingertip, he gazed at her with longing. “‘Yes’, Chloe,” he whispered softly. “Just say ‘yes’.”
“Oh! Oh!” Chloe nodded, tears trailing down her cheeks. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Damien slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her hand, then quickly stood and wrapped her in a tight hug. Hands patted the couple on their shoulders and backs—and more than one gave a naughty pinch to their rears—as the entire room congratulated Chloe and Damien.
In the blink of an eye, her good-as-it-could-get life had got even better. She could get used to surprises like this.
Chloe thought for a moment about how the twists in her life had brought her to this perfect night and this perfect man. Her struggle to succeed through college and grad school, getting fired from her old job, and even her old boyfriend who was so awful to her. Yes, even old what’s-his-name had played an important role.
What was his name anyway?
Chloe shrugged indifferently and looked at her hand. It’s like a little tiara for my finger, she thought happily, and I’ve never felt like more of a princess. I’ll have to see if I can sell my Princess Numberina story to Disney after all.
Waiters had begun bringing trays of mushroom tartlets, bruschetta and prosciutto with melon. The inaugural party for Razzo was underway. Damien held her tightly, as if he were afraid she would fly away, and Chloe could hardly fail to notice his arousal. She turned her back to him and leaned against him, rubbing his stiffness against the curve of her rear.
Damien lowered his face to her ear and whispered, “I need to show you something in my office.” He brushed his hand lightly against her breasts and kissed her neck. “Come on.” Chloe let him pull her briskly from the restaurant and to the winding iron staircase.
She raced down the stairs after him, past the elegant lounge tables of the entry floor and down to Volare’s dance floor and bar. They ran all the way to Damien’s office and slammed the door behind them, breathless.
Damien locked the door as Chloe dimmed the lights. “Silly that some people say familiarity breeds contempt.” Chloe laughed as she pulled her jade green sundress over her head. “Working with you all day, every day, just keeps me turned on, all day, every day.” The push-up bra she wore thrust her breasts up enticingly, with the rosy blush of her areolae just visible beneath the silver satin.
“Good thing I’m the owner, then, huh?” Damien agreed, swallowing, while he quickly unbuttoned his shirt.
“Mm-hmm”—Chloe nodded—“and I’m the co-manager, don’t forget about that.” She hooked her thumbs under the sides of her thong and yanked it down to her ankles, then kicked it aside.
“You are a kick-ass co-manager, therapist and accountant,” Damien stated, “and a damn fine fuck, too.” He unfastened his trousers and pulled them down with his black boxer briefs. His stiff cock sprang free, jutting up towards the ceiling through a tangle of soft brown curls.
“Yeah, baby, don’t you forget it.” Chloe smiled. She reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. Her tits fell free of the confining Lycra. Damien’s eyes widened when he saw the delicate blue crystals hanging beneath each taut peak.
Chloe shook her shoulders and the dangling crystals sparkled in the dim light. “I added to my collection of nipple jewellery that you started,” she told him. “I wanted to dress up my ta-tas for you tonight. I hope you like it.”
“Oh, yes, your ta-tas look delicious, dear,” he assured her. Lifting his hands, he flicked each swinging crystal and watched them swing. Then he placed a warm, wet kiss on each tenderly pinched tit.
Chloe lifted one foot onto his conveniently placed boomerang table and gripped his erection. Sliding it over her streaming cleft, she whispered, “Come on, let’s do it.”
Damien slid his hands down to cup her softly rounded ass. He placed the tip of his cock just inside her pussy lips. “You’ll be my wife, then,” he whispered, “till we’re old and grey?”
“Yeah,” Chloe promised, thrusting her hips slowly. “Until we’re rocking on the front porch, talking about our wild times at Volare and Razzo when we were young and crazy.” Damien groaned as she sheathed him fully and sighed with pleasure at the tight fit. “Until we’re old and grey and beyond, Damien. I’m yours for a lifetime. I love you.”
“I’m a lucky man,” Damien said softly, easing his cock out. “I’ll try very hard to make you happy. You deserve perfect happiness, Chloe.” He bucked his hips hard and buried his stiffness inside her once more.
“And I’ll try my hardest to make your dreams,” Chloe told him, “I mean, our dreams, come true. We have a lifetime together to do what w
e enjoy and to love each other.” She lowered her leg from the table.
Damien lay on the red oriental rug and Chloe settled on top of him, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. She lifted her hips and slammed them back down again, pummelling his steely hardness with her own yielding softness. Her crystal-adorned tits bounced and her cool blonde hair flowed like silk over her tanned shoulders. Chloe’s brow furrowed slightly. She pursed and licked her lips as though she were tasting a decadent morsel of chocolate. Delicious, Damien thought.
She moved faster, pistoning over him wildly. “It’s happening,” she whimpered, “I’m almost there.” Chloe spread her palms over his bare chest.
“Oh, yes, I’m coming,” she gasped, slamming her cunt onto his cock with all her strength. Her spasms milked the length of him as his own orgasm hit—his cum jetted into her like a fountain. Like a flare. Like a rocket.
Chloe’s eyes remained closed as she wound down from her climax, but Damien’s stayed wide open. As her breath slowed, he spoke softly. “You’re just so beautiful, Chloe. I’ve never seen something as lovely as watching your face when you climax. I see surprise, relief and happiness there.”
“And love,” Chloe added with a smile. She opened her eyes. “You see love, Damien.”
At that moment, and for the lifetime of moments that followed, they soared.
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
A Ghost on Two Wheels
Bebe Balocca
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Barney!” I lean out of the back door and holler up into the meadow. “Barney, damn it, come on in!” As I have for the past several days, I hope to see him dart out from our rickety barn, his namesake and his favourite haunt, and plummet down the gentle slope to our back door like a ginger lightning bolt. Barney enjoys nothing more than lurking in that dusty old barn, chasing field mice and sparrows and lizards, then resting after his hunts in my lap.
