26 Nights

by 26 Nights (Memoirs of a Contemporary Gentleman) [MF] (retail) (epub)

  Finally we broke the kiss, gasping for air; and then Katharine began to slide down my body as she went slowly to her knees. “Remember this?” she said breathlessly, kneeling in front of me and stroking my hard flesh, then bending her head to kiss it lightly. I felt her warm breath. Yes, I remembered all right. I strained forward. Katharine gave a little laugh. It set off a faint warning bell in my brain, but my brain was not what was occupying my attention at that moment.

  “Remember?” Katharine repeated. “We were just like this. And I was just about to …” Her head moved again, her mouth opened … I gasped as I entered the portals of heaven …

  And then I gasped again, in quite a different manner, as I felt her lips squeezing tightly around the base of my shaft.

  She squeezed hard enough to make me hold very, very still. And I heard that tiny laugh again, this time slightly muffled.

  “Uh … Katharine …” I said. Very carefully.

  She held me that way for another moment, and then let go and drew her head away. I made a small sound of relief and hastened to cover up my rapidly shrinking tool.

  “I ought to bite it off!” she said. “You lousy bastard!” She stood up, but now she kept her hands between our bodies, fending me off in the small space.

  “Katharine—”

  “Screw you!” She tried to slap my face, but I managed to block it, so she settled for hitting me in the chest. “You piece of shit! How does it feel? You like it?”

  “But I—”

  “You expect me to believe that bullshit story?” She swung at me again. “First you walk out on me and then you—”

  “Look, Katharine, let me—”

  “Fuck off!” Katharine said. She pushed me with surprising strength, then squirmed past me and got the door open before I could stop her.

  “Wait—” I said, but she didn’t. She was out the door, and without thinking of caution I went after her, calling her name, only to find a stout lady passenger who had been waiting for an empty lavatory staring at me in shock.

  “It’s all yours, madam,” I said to her, and she gave me a wide berth as she headed for it.

  Another stewardess who had been passing had also evidently observed our nearly simultaneous emergence, and was standing there laughing quietly. I gave her an embarrassed kind of shrug, and she came up to me, smiling. She was very pretty and very young and very blond.

  “Having troubles with Katharine?” she asked, looking me over rather boldly. “She can be pretty temperamental sometimes.”

  “I’ve noticed,” I said.

  “Anything I can do to help?” she asked. She wasn’t talking about fetching me a drink, either.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Diana.”

  “Damn. That wouldn’t be Diana with a K, would it?”

  She blinked. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so. Sorry, Diana. Another time, okay?”

  Diana shrugged. “Sure,” she said. “Maybe tonight? I’ll be at the casino. A bunch of us girls are going.”

  “Oh?” I said. “Katharine too?”

  She made a face. “It has to be Katharine, huh?”

  “I wish it didn’t.”

  “Me too.” She turned and walked away. She had a lovely behind. For the hundredth time I hoped Miss Greenglass could appreciate what I was giving up for her.

  Since I hadn’t expected to spend much time in Monte Carlo, I had packed very lightly, and had not bothered to include a tuxedo, which is my preferred attire for visiting the casino there. However, standards have declined so precipitously in these casual times that my unassuming business suit was, if anything, conspicuous by its formality among the tourists, sharpers and local hangers-on in that once-elegant establishment. I was not particularly interested in gambling that evening; my focus was on that one great gamble which was rapidly becoming the central obsession of my life, and particularly on Katharine, who was to be the next counter in the game. It might have made more sense to just go home and find another K lady; but I hated to think I had made this long flight for nothing. And I kept feeling her breasts against me, and her writhing hips, and her fabulous tongue …

  I roamed the casino for an hour or so before they showed up. There were four of them—Diana, Katharine and two others whom I hadn’t met. It was, of course, the first time I had seen Katharine out of uniform, and she looked incredibly sensuous in a simple but formfitting black dress that plunged nicely in front. They were standing at a craps table, chattering excitedly as one of the girls I didn’t know rolled the dice. She lost. As I approached, Diana spotted me and waved, then said something to the others. Katharine did not bother to look up.

  “Hi!” Diana greeted me. “Nice to see you again. Hey, girls, this is—what’s your name, anyway?”

  “Steven,” I said.

  “Steven,” Diana said. “He’s a friend of Katharine’s.”

  “No,” Katharine said flatly, “he’s not.”

  “They had a little tiff,” Diana said mischievously. “In the bathroom on the plane.” The other two giggled. Katharine rolled her eyes and moved a little bit away. I went over and stood beside her.

  “Look,” I said in a low voice. “I’m really sorry, and there really was a good reason for what I did, but it’s just too complicated to explain.”

  “You don’t say.” She was still watching the play at the table. At least she didn’t walk away, which I took to be a good sign.

  “I do. And believe me, it killed me to leave you like that.”

  “You managed, though, didn’t you?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “What more can I say? And if you can’t forgive me—well, I’ll go away and I won’t bother you anymore. If that’s really what you want.”

  She said nothing. I knew I had turned the corner.

  “On the other hand—” I brought my mouth close to her ear and lowered my voice. “The bathrooms here in the casino are much bigger than they are on the plane.”

  She moved her head away, but then she turned it enough to give me a quick glance, and what I saw in her eyes in that instant made my pulse quicken.

  “They’re less private, though,” she murmured.

  “We can deal with that,” I said. “Or … we could just go to my hotel.”

  “No, thanks,” she said. “I like it here.”

  “Well then,” I said. “My bathroom or yours?”

  We chose mine. The gentleman in attendance there did not seem at all surprised at my suggestion that he absent himself for a while (in return for a substantial gratuity, of course); I got the impression that he received such requests all the time, and probably sent his children to college thereby. He could not, however, undertake to stand guard outside the door to keep others from entering. I waited until the room was momentarily empty, and then sneaked Katharine in as surreptitiously as I could, leading her quickly to a stall and shutting us in.

  Even the toilet stall was larger than the lavatory on the plane had been. But the door, in the universal manner of such things, was set about two feet above the floor, so that anyone who cared to peek underneath could see the legs of the person (or in this case persons) inside. And it was highly unlikely that the bathroom would remain uninhabited for long.

  In fact, we had only just melted into a passionate kiss when we heard the outer door open and a couple of guys come in. I quickly sat down on the toilet seat and pulled Katharine onto my lap. Fortunately the seat was a wide one, just wide enough to allow her to place her feet on either side of me as she crouched there. It was not the most comfortable position in the world, but it was suitable enough for our purposes, except for the fact that we had all these clothes in the way. Also we had to be quiet. Other men were coming in now, and from that point on the traffic was virtually continuous.

  I slid my hand down between us to open my zipper, my fingers brushing Katharine’s crotch and bringing a soft moan from her. With my other hand I pulled her face to mine in order to muffle the sound with a k
iss.

  I got my zipper open and my cock free, and pushed Katharine’s dress up over her thighs; but her panties were hard to pull off in that position. I tried pushing them out of the way, but finally had to make a little tear with my thumbnail and pull them apart until I could maneuver myself through the gap—and then into that sweeter gap, which appeared gratifyingly eager to receive me.

  Our lips parted with a simultaneous gasp, and then she was moving on me, and I was helping as best I could. Her hands were tugging my jacket off, and I managed to get her dress open enough to slide her bra up and feast for a few moments on her round, hard-nippled breasts.

  Then we were holding each other as she pressed herself to me, moving harder, and we kissed again to stifle our panting and moaning, though I don’t know how successful we were. Especially when I felt her spasming around my flesh as she went over the top, just as I was wondering how long I could hold out myself. As it turned out, not another second. But if the sounds of our climax were indeed audible outside our stall, at least no one was heard to complain.

  Very civilized country, Monaco.

  We continued to kiss as our passion subsided, though Katharine’s restless, probing tongue made me suspect that she had further fun and games in mind. Not that I had any objections. My only regret was that, in these circumstances, she would be unable to use that marvelous mouth on me as she had come so close to doing twice before.

  But what the hell, you can’t have everything.

  Chapter 12

  LISTEN, HENRY,” I SAID, TRYING TO STAY CALM. “I’ve told you I don’t want you hanging around here. And especially around my assistant. Haven’t I?”

  “Hey, what’s the problem, Steve-O?” Henry asked. He calls me “Steve-O” though he knows I hate it. Maybe because he knows I hate it. “Can’t I drop in to say hello to my big brother? And if he’s got a pretty secretary hanging around … well, hey, it’s every man for himself, right?”

  “Wrong,” I said. “Firstly, Miss Greenglass is not a secretary, she’s an assistant. Secondly, you’re not a man, you’re a cockroach. And thirdly, you’re not worthy to shine that woman’s shoes. So if—”

  “Oho. Do I detect a little jealousy there, Steve-O? You want to keep this chick all to yourself, huh? Is she that good?”

  I took a deep breath. “Miss Greenglass and I are simply employer and employee,” I said. “For now, anyway. And I won’t have—”

  “What? A good-looking female like that and you haven’t porked her yet? Hard to believe, Steve.”

  Faithful readers of this saga may or may not remember my mentioning that I had a brother. Henry, unfortunately, was he. It is probably evident that we were not on the best of terms.

  “Henry,” I said, “I’ll tell you again. I don’t want you here. This is a business office. It’s a family business, Henry, but you chose not to be a part of it. You preferred to take your part of the money and be a playboy or whatever. Fine. Go play. But do it away from here. And away from Miss Greenglass.”

  Henry shrugged. “I guess that means double-dating is out,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Well, sorry, Steve-O, but the fact is I have a date with the gorgeous lady tomorrow night.”

  I stared at him. “I don’t believe it,” I said finally.

  “Why not? Hey, the chick knows quality when she sees it.”

  “You … and she … are going out?”

  “I knew you’d catch on eventually,” Henry said.

  “No,” I said.

  “Well, Steve-O, if you say no and she says yes, now who am I gonna believe?”

  “Get the hell out of here,” I said.

  “Okay, bro. But I’ll probably see you tomorrow afternoon when I come here to pick her up.”

  I stood up then, and when Henry saw the expression on my face he decided to make his departure. I have often said that I am a lover rather than a fighter, but in this case I was quite prepared to make an exception.

  It seemed so unlikely that my cool, unapproachable Miss Greenglass would choose to date such a person as Henry—and not at all unlikely that Henry would make up such a story—that I would not allow myself to believe it without further proof. When Miss Greenglass came in the next day I waited for her to mention something about it, but she didn’t, and finally my curiosity drove me to broach the subject myself.

  “Miss Greenglass,” I began, at what seemed an opportune moment. “After you left yesterday, my brother told me that—well, I know it’s probably just one of his stories—but he said that you and he were … going out together. Tonight.”

  There was no change in Miss Greenglass’s placid demeanor. “Yes, Mr. Walling. Your brother was kind enough to ask me to dinner.”

  I stared at her. “And you accepted?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “But—but why?”

  She glanced at me with only the slightest raising of her lovely eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Why?” I repeated. “Why would you go out with—with Henry, of all people? I can’t believe it!”

  Miss Greenglass’s cool voice became cooler than ever. “I believe my private life is my own affair, Mr. Walling.”

  “Well, of course it is,” I said. “But—but Henry! He’s so—I just wouldn’t have thought he was the type of person you would be—that you would want to—”

  “Not that it is any concern of yours, Mr. Walling,” Miss Greenglass said, “but perhaps your brother has certain qualities which you do not appreciate.”

  “My brother is a jerk,” I said. “And you’re wrong, Miss Greenglass—it is my concern. Once I win our bet, I’m going to be taking you to bed. And I don’t want my idiot brother getting there before me. I’m sorry if that sounds crude, Miss Greenglass, but when it comes to Henry it’s hard to be anything else.”

  I couldn’t be sure whether the swift glint in her eyes signified anger or amusement. “I am simply going to dinner with your brother, Mr. Walling,” she said. “No one has said anything about sexual activity.” She paused. “Although I have not ruled it out,” she added.

  “What? But—”

  “Our wager, as you know, does not put any restrictions on me, Mr. Walling—only on you. And if, as you so charmingly put it, taking me to bed is indeed your object, perhaps you should be more concerned with your own social life than with mine, don’t you think?”

  The woman was infuriating. “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I’m already at L. Hell, I know lots of L-women. Laura, Louise, Lana, Linda, Lonnie, Leslie, Lorna …”

  “Most of whom you have already slept with, I’m sure,” Miss Greenglass murmured.

  “So what? Remember, that’s not a rule. I just said that I would try to enlist new ladies in order to make my job a little less easy. But if you’re going to sink to going out with my brother …”

  “I fail to see what that has to do with it,” Miss Greenglass said.

  “Nuts!” I explained.

  Laura’s phone had been disconnected. Louise was away on a business trip. Lana was in the hospital with a broken leg. Linda was on her honeymoon. Leslie never wanted to speak to me again (I wasn’t sure why, but there must have been a good reason). Lonnie, I learned, had become a lesbian (it was a ’90s thing, she told me). Lorna was eight months pregnant.

  I gathered all this information in a series of calls I made while Miss Greenglass was out to lunch. It did not exactly improve my disposition. Not that there weren’t still more L-ladies in my address book; but the real source of my disgruntlement was my brother’s rendezvous with my assistant and, try though I might, it was hard to focus my mind on other things.

  I was not in the office when Henry came to pick up Miss Greenglass that evening; it was a spectacle I was not anxious to witness. I did, however, happen to see them as they left together. This was because I just happened to be sitting in the back of a taxi a few doors down, watching my building while the meter ticked happily away. And I just happened to notice them get into another
cab which Henry hailed.

  “Follow that cab,” I said to the driver.

  “You’re kidding,” he said.

  “I’m not kidding. Come on, they’re pulling out.”

  “You a cop or something?” the driver said.

  “No. Will you just—”

  “Twenty-three years I been driving a cab, nobody ever said that to me before.”

  “Please,” I said, trying to keep an eye on Henry’s taxi before it got lost in the traffic. “I’ll make it worth your while, all right?”

  “It’s like I’m in a damn time warp,” the driver said, finally putting the cab in gear and pulling out. He shook his head. “Follow that cab. Jeez.”

  “Hurry, it’s turning the corner up there. See it?”

  “How do you hurry in this traffic?” the driver said.

  You didn’t. When we reached the corner and made the turn, there were several taxis up ahead, and I couldn’t be sure which one was theirs. “Try to get closer,” I said.

  “I’m not a helicopter, buddy,” the driver said.

  “I thought you guys were all foreigners nowadays,” I said.

  “Yeah, I’m a dying breed,” the driver said. “Your old-time, wise-cracking cabbie from Brooklyn. Wanna make somethin’ of it?”

  “No,” I said. “You’re the kind a man’s supposed to say ‘Follow that cab’ to, after all.”

  “Right,” the driver said. “Now that you said it, I can retire. Hey, which of those cabs are we following, anyway?”

  “I’m not sure any more. I think that one, the one that’s turning left. Follow him.”

  He did, and we managed to keep the cab in sight for several blocks, until it stopped to disgorge its passengers. There were two, but it was too far away to be sure they were the right ones.

  “Stop here,” I told the cabbie. I pulled out some bills and gave them to him. “Thanks.”

  “No, no,” he said. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Stay right here, Mack—and keep the meter running!’ ”