Train Me

by Mia Ford

  “Bullshit,” he said, smirking. “Prove it.”

  I leaned back and folded my arms over my chest, then nodded at the stacks on my desk. “If you spend too much time thinking about a thing, you’ll never get it done.”

  His smile broke into a wide grin. “That’s an actual Bruce Lee quote.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said, jerking my hands up to a Kung Fu stance. “It's not as good as your ‘sifting for gold’ cliché, but it’s pretty good.”

  “It’s actually better,” he said, pushing himself off the door frame, but keeping his hands in his pockets. I stole a glance at his crotch. I thought he might be putting his hands in his pocket to hide something he didn’t want me to see. “You quoted Bruce Lee. I quoted some old guy from a show I saw on TV about the Alaskan gold rush.”

  “Well, I’m sure you made it sound far more intelligent than he did.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me and pursed his lips. “Well played, Miss Walsh. I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”

  Tiffany sat on the bed, watching me wiggle into the little black dress that fit a tad more snugly than it had the last time I’d worn it in college when I was living on dollar beer and Rice-A-Roni.

  “Oh god, do I look fat?” I asked, turning in the mirror to see myself at every angle. The dress was snug, but fit perfectly in all the right places. It showed off my big tits without giving away too much cleavage and fit my bubble butt just right. Thank God the dress wasn’t too short. It hit around mid-thigh, which my expert Tiffany said was the perfect length. I slipped my feet into the pair of stiletto heels that belonged to Tiffany, who insisted that I try them on. I wobbled as I turned. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to walk in the damn things.

  “Girl, those shoes make your legs and ass look smoking hot,” she said, whistling and wringing her hands. “I swear, if I was a lesbian I’d climb up those long legs of yours and much the shit out of that red rug.”

  “Jesus, Tiff,” I said, giggling. I turned to look at my backside in the mirror. She was right. The stilettos made my calves and ankles look toned as hell, and my ass seemed tighter, probably because every muscle back there was clenched in an effort to keep me steady on my feet.

  “You look awesome,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Sam Collins is gonna eat you up like a Golden Corral buffet.”

  “Would you stop?” I said, brushing my hands over the front of the dress. “It’s just dinner.”

  “Just dinner at the motherfucking Harvard Club,” she said. I thought I detected a touch of jealousy in her voice. “Nobody offered to pay my dues to the place. Trust me, he’s gonna eat you up. And if you’re smart, you’ll let him.”

  “I’m going to let him take me to a dinner function and bring me straight back home,” I said. “That’s it.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” she said, climbing off the bed. “If you bring him home to fuck him here make sure you hang your panties on the doorknob so I know not to bust in.” She nodded at the door. “Hey, I need a beer. You want one?”

  “No, I’m fine.” I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. I had fifteen minutes before Sam was scheduled to pick me up. I hurried into the bathroom and mussed my hair, leaving it down on my shoulders. I leaned in to check my reflection in the mirror over the sink. I was wearing a pair of fake pearls and matching earrings. I’d done the makeup a little heavier than normal, but it didn’t look troweled on. All in all, I looked pretty damned good, if I did have to say so myself.

  I picked my purse up off the bed and clicked off the light. I checked the purse for lipstick and dropped in my cellphone on the way to the living room, where I’d wait on pins and needles until Sam arrived to take me on my grand adventure.

  Sam

  I could not remember the last time I’d been nervous around a woman. I mean, it had to be in ninth or tenth grade, about the time I lost my virginity to my older sister’s best friend. Sure, I was nervous the first time and probably the second, but I was a fast learner and pretty fucking confident in my abilities, no pun intended. In fact, Miss Edmunds, my twelfth-grade science teacher who first instructed me in the art of cunnilingus, said I was a natural.

  However, as I sat in the back of the limo waiting for Abbie to come down from her sixth-floor apartment, I felt a little case of the jitters coming on. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears and my breath grew heavy in my chest. I poured myself a shot of bourbon from the bar built into the back of the front seat and shot it down quickly to settle my nerves.

  My cellphone buzzed inside my jacket as the dark liquid burned its way down my throat. I tugged it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. It was Barry, the fat fuck. I had been covering for him all fucking week, defending him to Phyllis, saying that he was taking a little vacation and not on another of his psychotic benders. The truth was, I had no idea where Barry was, and I was worried sick about him. I slid to answer the video call as quickly as I could.

  “Where the fuck are you, man?” I asked as his round head filled the tiny screen.

  “Well hello to you too, asshole,” he shot back, chuckling.

  “Jesus, Barry, I’ve been worried fucking sick about you,” I said. “Seriously, where are you.”

  “Hang on.” He took the phone away from his face and directed the camera in a slow circle around him. He was on a beach. The sun was sinking low in the sky. A stretch of white sand separated him from crystal blue water and the dark ocean beyond.

  His face came back on screen. “I’m in Fiji, motherfucker,” he said with a big smile. “Wish you were here.”

  “What the hell are you doing in Fiji?” I asked, blowing out a long breath, relieved that he was alive.

  “I needed to get away,” he said, his tone turning serious. “Truth is, partner, I can’t take the grind anymore. I’m just calling to let you know that I quit.”

  My mouth literally dropped open. “What do you mean you quit?”

  “I mean I quit. I’m done. I’m toast. Capiche. Kaput. Fini. Finito. Sayonara. Over and out. I have packed my bags and bugged out, my friend. And if you’re smart, you’ll do the same.”

  “Barry cut the shit,” I said, disbelieving what I was hearing. Barry was married to his job. There was no way in hell that he could just walk away from it. “You can’t just leave the firm.”

  “Of course, I can. It’s not the fucking mafia, Sam.” He held the phone’s camera so close to his face I couldn’t see anything but his eyes, nose, and mouth. “I just sent an email to you, Phyllis, and Eben with my resignation, and the recommendation that Eben be made the permanent head of corporate law. I want you guys to buy me out and wish me good luck. I don’t want you to try to talk me out of it or give me shit.”

  I fell back in the leather seat and blew out a long sigh that seemed to drain the tension from my body. “I don’t understand, Barry. Why quit? Why now?”

  I watched his face on the small screen. He looked tanned and happy, with a week’s growth of stubble on his chubby cheeks. He took a deep breath and stared into my eyes through the screen.

  “You remember when I took off all my clothes and crawled out on that ledge?”

  “Yes.”

  “I told everybody I was just drunk and stupid. The truth was, I went out there to jump, Sammy. And if I hadn’t lost my nerve, that’s what I would have done.”

  “Jesus, Barry, I had no idea. Why?”

  “Pressure. Life. Depression. The job and all the bullshit that comes along with it.” He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “I almost did it again last week. I went home, drank a bottle of bourbon and put my gun in my mouth. I swear, Sammy, I was gonna pull the trigger, but then, the TV was on. There was a commercial for some travel agency. They were selling trips to Fiji. The chick on the commercial said, ‘Come to Fiji and leave all your troubles behind’. So, that’s what I did. I packed a bag and left all my troubles behind in New York.”

  “Fuck, Barry, I had no idea things were so bad,” I said, feeling guilty as hell for not seeing that my best f
riend was freakin’ suicidal. Shit. Fuck. Damn. “What can I do?”

  “You can come join me,” he said. He looked off camera for a moment and came back holding a tall glass of red liquor with a tiny umbrella floating to one side. “The fucking Mai Tai’s are to die for here, man. And that wasn’t a suicide joke.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I said, relieved to know he was safe, but sad to know that he was gone.

  “I’m better than okay,” he said. “Listen, I want you guys to buy me out of the firm. Come up with a number you think is fair and send me the paperwork. I don’t trust Phyllis the cunt as far as I can throw her, but I trust you to get me a fair deal, Sammy.”

  “Okay, I’ll get with the partners first thing Monday morning,” I said. “Anything else?”

  “Can you have my assistant get everything at my apartment packed up and in storage, then get the place on the market?”

  “Barry, are you sure you don’t want to take a few months to think things over? I mean, what if Fiji isn’t the solution and you want to come back to New York?”

  “Sam, if I come back to New York I’ll probably die there,” he said. “This is my home now. Sand, surf, tanned tits and dark pussy. It’s amazing.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I’ll take care of everything on this end for you. Don’t worry.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” he said. “And Sam, do yourself a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Forget about Phyllis and move on. It’s never gonna happen.”

  I frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Put out the torch, Sammy. Find yourself a nice girl and settle down. You’re not getting any younger you know, and trust me, the view from that ledge will scare you to death, especially if you’re sitting next to that cunt, Phyllis.”

  Before I could ask what the fuck he was talking about, the phone went dark and the limo door opened. I looked up to see the most beautiful girl in the world smiling back at me as Barry’s advice echoed in my ears.

  Abbie

  It was a magical night. And trust me, I don’t say that very often, if at all. The Harvard Club was housed in a gorgeous old building downtown that had been lovingly cared for over the years. Sam said the HC had been there for over a hundred years and walking through the large mahogany doors was like stepping back in time. The architecture, the décor, even the furnishings were priceless antiques from another time.

  We were greeted warmly at the door by the director of the club, Mr. Halpern, who clasped Sam’s hand and hugged him like they were the best of friends. He greeted me with a hug and welcomed me to the fold. My application had not been processed, he said, nor had my membership been voted on and approved by the governing board, but those were mere technicalities. If Sam Collins vouched for me, that was good enough for the HC.

  Sam cupped my elbow and led me around the room, introducing me to lawyers and bankers and entrepreneurs and billionaires, all Harvard alums and all very wealthy. The smell of money, new and old, permeated the room.

  Dinner was served in a grand dining hall that looked like something out of the movies. There were probably two hundred people there, more men than women, seated at long tables that ran the length of the hall. Waiters wearing tuxedos with tails and white gloves buzzed around like busy bees maintaining a hive.

  The long tables were covered in food and the practice was to just take a chair and dig in after the pledge of allegiance and the saying of grace, which I found somewhat hypocritical given that most of the people there had made their money without God in mind.

  We dined on steak and lobster, Sam’s favorite. At one point, he leaned over and whispered, “Maybe next time we can eat chicken and waffles.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” I said coyly, happy that there might be a next time.

  After dinner, some of the men went into the library for brandy and cigars while the ladies went to the salon for gossip and brandy, a long-held if out of date tradition, Sam explained, practiced by those men who needed a break from their wives and the women who were happy to be rid of them for a while.

  “Do you need a break from me?” I asked innocently. I gazed into his eyes, waiting for his answer.

  “The only break I need is from this place,” he said, taking a step closer. He took my hand and gazed into my eyes. “Would you like to get out of here, Miss Walsh?”

  I eyed him for a moment, not wanting to seem too eager. My fingers closed around his. “And go where, Mr. Collins?”

  “Where would you like to go?” he asked, firmly lobbing the ball right back into my court. “Where could we go to continue Abbie’s grand adventure?”

  This time I did not hesitate. I said. “How about your place.”

  He smiled and squeezed my hand. “Now that is the best idea I’ve heard all day. Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Abbie

  Sam started kissing me the moment we got into the back of the limo. His lips were soft and warm on mine. His tongue swirled around my lips and across my teeth as he tentatively probed my mouth. When the tips of our tongues touched, I felt a spark as the warm juices between my legs start to flow.

  We were like two teenagers in the backseat of a car on prom night. We were all dressed up with only one place left to go. His hands caressed my thighs and squeezed my breasts over the dress. My hand inched up his leg until I felt his hard cock waiting there. My dream was prophetic. His cock was long and hard, pushing against the material of his slacks, like a snake struggling to break free. He moaned as I gripped his cock and began to slowly rub the length of it.

  His hand slid between my thighs. I raised my ass off the seat so he could push my dress up to get access to my panties, which were already drenched with my juices. The car filled with my scent. He rubbed my pussy through the thin material and was about to slide his fingers inside me when the car stopped and the driver pushed the intercom to say, “We’re here, sir.”

  “Shall we continue this upstairs, Miss Walsh?” he asked.

  “I hope you have a fast elevator, Mr. Collins,” I said with a sigh.

  “The fastest in the city. Come on.”

  Things happened quickly once we stepped off the elevator directly into Sam’s penthouse apartment. He took my hand and led me to the bedroom, which was larger than my entire apartment.

  Sam quickly undressed as I stood back and watched. His body was lean and hard, just like my dream. His cock was long and thick, roped with veins and a bulbous head that I was dying to get in my mouth.

  I reached for his cock, but he put his hands on my shoulders to turn me around. He stood behind me to unzip my dress. I shimmied it down over my hips and let if fall to the floor. I wasn’t wearing a bra, just a pair of black lace panties that were so wet now that they needed to be wrung out and hung up to dry.

  Sam pressed his lips to my neck and brought his hands around to cup my large tits as I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my panties and pushed them down my legs. My tits were more than a handful; my nipples were large as pink thimbles. Sam bit at my neck. I moaned as he massaged my tits and rolled my nipples between his fingers.

  “God, you feel amazing,” he cooed in my ear. “Your tits, your ass. You make me so fucking hard.”

  I could feel his cock pressing into the crack of my ass. I wanted him in my ass and in my mouth and in my pussy. I wanted him in every hole, going as deep as he could until I screamed in ecstasy.

  “I want your cock inside me,” I said, reaching around to take him in my hand. I milked him as he massaged my tits and nibbled at my neck.

  “Show me where you want it,” he said. He slid his hands down from my breasts to my pussy and pulled me back against him. His cock slid between my legs. I felt my pussy lips fold around his shaft. His fingers found my clit. He pulled back my pubes with one hand and dipped his fingers between my folds to lubricate them, then massaged my clit until I was a breath away from cumming.

  “I want you in my pussy first,�
� I said, turning my head to the side so he could kiss me. “God, my pussy is burning for you.”

  “Bend forward,” he said, putting his hands on my back. I put my elbows on the bed and leaned on them, leaving my legs straight so my ass and cunt was open to him. He put his hands on my hips and stepped closer until the round head of his cock was at my pussy hole. He held it with his hand to swirl it around my juices, then guided the head into my hole and put his hands on my hips again to pull me to him.

  “Fuck me… Sam…” I said as I felt his cock invade my pussy hole. As in my dream, my lips suctioned around the shaft, stretching just enough to let him slide inside.

  He started slowly sliding in and out, filling me to the point of full. The head of his cock hit my cervix and I literally felt him in my throat. I sucked in gusts of air and breathed through the pressure, then sighed happily as the pleasure kicked into high gear.

  My pussy was on fire, gushing hot juices over his cock as he slid it in and out. The friction of his girth rubbing against my tight walls started the hot lava bubbling inside me. With every long stroke, I could feel the orgasm building, rising, getting ready to explode all over him.

  “Faster… Sam…” I moaned. “Harder… harder…”

  I heard him panting as his strokes got faster and deeper. I felt the tip of his finger probe my asshole, which was lubed with the juices we were concocting. As his cock continued pounding my pussy, he shoved the finger in my ass up to the first joint, then the second, then up to the knuckle. He matched the stroke of his finger to that of his cock, driving me completely over the fucking moon.

  “I’m… cumming… oh… god… Sam… cumming… cumming…”

  Sam’s fingertips dug into my hips. “Cumming… too…”

  He slammed into me so hard that I could feel his balls slapping against my clit. When he came, he pushed inside me as far as he could and stiffened like a board. As his milky hot seed filled my cunt, I curled my toes and moaned as orgasm after orgasm shuddered through my body.