by Nella Tyler
I nodded. "Okay, that sounds fine – but remember, no strings!"
He laughed as he pulled his car out of the parking lot and left the restaurant. The Porsche offered a surprisingly smooth ride and I would be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying myself. I idly watched the busy streets of downtown Atlantic City pass by and then after several twists and turns, we started heading into the richer section of the city. I'd never been in this neighborhood, but to say it was nice was an understatement.
The further into the neighborhood we drove, closer to the foothills, the fancier and bigger the houses got. The properties were larger, some fancier, some walled in by shrubbery or walls, and others looked downright decadent. Oh my God, to live in such a place! Compared to these estates, my apartment was nothing more than a shack, although to me, my apartment was perfectly cozy, comfortable, and nice enough.
After driving for a while up a long, winding road, Ben took a turn into a driveway that was bordered by heavy shrubs. I couldn't see the house from the edge of the driveway, and he slowly drove the Porsche up the driveway until we topped a rise. Suddenly, we were on a circular driveway, behind which rose a magnificent house. My jaw literally dropped open in amazement.
There, in front of me, was one of the nicest mansions I had ever seen in my life. I couldn't even come up with the right adjective to describe it: ostentatious, opulent, elegant, and bloody gorgeous. The front was done in New England stone with wood trim. It kind of looked like something out of the pages of a history book, only ten times bigger and fancier. It had two stories and probably a large attic space, if I could tell by the placement of dormer windows scattered along the front. It was absolutely beautiful and big. No, huge.
I turned to look at him as he pulled the Porsche up to the stone steps leading to the double wide mahogany front door. "It's gorgeous," I blurted. "How many rooms does it have?"
"Bedrooms or altogether?"
"Whatever!” I exclaimed. "Okay, in addition to the kitchen, living room, and a dining room, how many rooms?"
He put the car in park and turned off the engine. His fingers moved on the steering wheel as if he was counting.
"All told? Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a den, an office, a small library-study, and down in the basement is what I call my man cave or playroom."
"Is that all?" I teased. I turned to stare again at the house. "I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful."
He opened his car door and then quickly moved around the front of the car and to the passenger side and opened my door. He offered his hand and I took it, stepping out.
"Actually, it's quite old. The main house was constructed back in the seventeen hundreds, out of stone, naturally."
"Naturally," I said, admiring every stone, every dormer window, and the trim – everything about it was absolutely amazing.
"Over the years, it's been added onto. I bought the place a few years ago and did a major upgrade of all the electrical, plumbing, and put a new roof on the place. Nice, huh?"
"Indeed," I agreed, allowing him to lead me up to the front door. Once again, I felt an awful surge of envy, but I tamped it down. Why was it that some people had all the luck? Was I doomed just have to struggle paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life, always living in a small apartment, never being able to afford a place of my own? Not that I expected something like this, no, but a tiny little cottage house…was that too much to ask?
He opened the front door. If I had been stunned by the outside, I was actually floored by the inside. Everywhere my eyes landed I saw polished oak flooring, gorgeous woodwork, wainscoting, wallpaper, and crown molding. I had never been in such a nice place short of a spread in one of the home and garden magazines or a fancy estate next to a massive garden or Arboretum. It was breathtaking.
As he showed me from room to room on the downstairs floor, I could only shake my head in amazement. Why, the gourmet kitchen alone, complete with stainless steel appliances, an island, and copper pots and pans hanging from hooks on the ceiling, was about the size of my entire apartment. I felt speechless, not quite comfortable with all the opulence. Again, jealousy niggled at me, and if I could've turned green with envy, I'm sure I would have. Not in a mean way because I certainly didn't resent him personally, but just the fact that I had to scramble just to pay my bills, and here was a guy who had everything at his fingertips...
"So why aren’t you married?" I blurted. He glanced at me and laughed.
"Let me show you the upstairs and the guest bedroom, and you can take your pick of bathing suits in the closet, okay?"
I noticed that he had smoothly avoided my question, and I regretted speaking the words. I had to watch what I said, especially after the wine. What exactly he had done to enjoy such wealth? Had he inherited it? He might come from Minnesota, but that didn't mean he hadn't been rich there, either. As we continued to tour the house, I wondered if all his money was made from his winnings at the Blackjack table. Once again, I wondered if he was cheating, counting cards, or perhaps he was just one of those damned lucky people who had everything they ever wanted in life just fall into their laps.
Stop it, I scolded myself. I didn't want to be jealous or spiteful, not in the least. After all, I should be grateful for what I had. I had a job, I had a roof over my head, I had my own car, and I had…enough. What else did I need?
Within the next twenty minutes, I had changed into a simple dark blue bikini, and then ventured downstairs, moving silently as my bare feet took the carpeted steps one at a time, my hand lingering on the highly polished balustrade of the staircase. Ben had told me he would meet me down by the kitchen and there he was.
I felt a little self-conscious in my bikini until I saw his appreciative gaze give me the once over. He smiled.
"You're beautiful," he said.
He sounded like he meant it, and I took the complement with as much grace and confidence as I could. He certainly didn't look bad, either, in his swimming trunks. In fact, he looked good enough to eat. Strong, broad shoulders, a wide chest, narrow waist, and the thin strip of hair that ran from his chest down below the waistband of his trunks captured my attention. He wore his swimming trunks low on his hips. Below the trunks, I noticed strong and well-developed thighs and calves. He extended his hand to me.
"The Jacuzzi is waiting," he told me.
I took his hand and allowed him to guide me out the doublewide French doors that lead from the hallway at the end of the kitchen area into the backyard. We stepped out onto a stone patio. The yard was just as gorgeous as the house. Well-groomed shrubbery, manicured lawns…the beauty just didn't stop.
To the left, under the overhang of an open beam redwood patio overhang, I heard the gurgling of the Jacuzzi. It was big, lined with redwood siding. Steam and bubbles rose from its surface. On the edge of the Jacuzzi stood a bottle of dessert wine and from the looks of it, it was the same brand and label as I had received at the casino. Two glistening crystal wine glasses stood next to the bottle.
He helped me into the Jacuzzi, and I sank into the comfortably warm water with a pleased sigh. This was amazing! While I needed to be careful not to get too carried away, I could say in complete honesty I was having one of the best days I had had in months. Look at me now, I thought. In a gorgeous mansion, soaking in a Jacuzzi with an equally gorgeous guy. Who would've thought?
He poured us each a glass of wine, and although I was hesitant to imbibe too much, I couldn't resist. No doubt about it, my barriers were coming down. We sat side by side for several minutes, sipping the wine, just enjoying the relaxation that the water evoked. I admired the backyard, which ventured past my line of sight. He told me more about the history of the place, that it actually used to be a homestead farm, and that he enjoyed spending a lot of his time overseeing its reconstruction, landscaping, and amenities.
After about a half an hour, I turned to look at him as I finished my glass of wine. He was staring off into the backyard, a contemplative look on his face. "A penny for your th
oughts," I said.
"Is that all?" He grinned.
I laughed. "It's all I can afford."
He looked at me, and I felt a tingling of awareness. I knew then that he wanted to kiss me and wondered if I would mind it so much. I decided I wouldn’t. In the next few seconds, he put his thoughts into words.
"Maggie, I want to kiss you. I want to feel your lips against mine; like I have since the first moment I walked into the casino and saw you. Your beautiful eyes, your smile – everything about you is so lovely and refreshing." He grinned. "Not to mention, you have a great body."
"Thank you," I said, sincerely. "So do you."
Before I knew it, he was leaning toward me, and I allowed it. His lips brushed against mine, softly at first, then more firmly. It didn't take long for my breasts to start tingling or my nipples to harden with desire. I felt the burning sensation low in my belly as well. Instinctively, I placed one of my hands on his shoulder, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath it as he wrapped his arms around me. My breasts were pressed against his chest, with nothing more than a thin film of fabric separating our skin.
I didn’t know if it was because I hadn't had sex in it so long or because Ben was so incredibly handsome, but in seconds I was hot for him. I wanted to feel his hands on my breasts. I wanted to make love with him, but I didn't want to be too forward. I didn't have to worry, though, because in the next instant, his tongue gently separated my lips and delved deeply into my mouth. Our tongues tangled for several moments before he began gently sucking on mine as if mimicking the act that I had just imagined.
I heard a groan and realized that was coming from my own throat. Oh God. In the next instant, I felt his hand at my back and the gentle tug of the bow that tied my bikini top. I felt the strings loosen and his hand moving up to the back of my neck. In seconds, my bikini top was floating on the surface of the Jacuzzi and my breasts were free, pressed up against his chest.
One of his hands reached up and cupped a breast, squeezing gently, testing its weight, and then his fingers were tweaking my nipple, first one, then the other, until both became hard little nubs. As if they had a will of their own, my breasts thrust toward him. Seconds later, he lifted me slightly in his arms and dipped his head. My breasts just broke the surface of the water as he took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip, and then gently suckling.
Oh my God. Heat burgeoned low in my belly as my privates began to throb with desire. I pressed myself closer to him, tentatively stroking my own hand down his arm, along his chest, then his waist, and then, as if it had a mind of its own, my hand reached for his crotch. His penis was hard, and I was thrilled at the knowledge that I could get him so hard in such a short amount of time. Our breathing grew harsh as our hands took our pleasure with each other's bodies. The strings tying up my bikini bottoms on each side of my hips were undone and I was completely naked in the Jacuzzi, the warm water caressing my skin.
Before I knew it, I was straddling his lap. His trunks, like my bikini, had disappeared, floating on the surface of the water. My breasts were squished up against his chest as we kissed deeply and passionately. His hands skimmed my back, stroked my buttocks and thighs. I wasn't ashamed to admit that my hands were just as busy. Then, readjusting me slightly on his legs, he reached his hand down between us. His hand cupped my pubis as I stroked his shaft. One of his fingers dipped into my crevice. My grip on his cock tightened and as I stroked, I began to gently rock my hips. He did the same as my hand stroked him. I wanted more than anything to feel the length of him inside me, but I was also aware that I wasn't on birth control and he had no protection.
"I'm so hot for you," he murmured in my ear. "Keep stroking…you make me feel so good, so horny…let's do it this way, and then later, we can go up to the bedroom."
I was more than ready. His finger plunged deep inside me while his thumb circled my clitoris, causing waves of heat, pleasure, and tension to surge into every muscle of my body. My thumb stroked over the tip of his head, and he groaned, his mouth sucking on my tongue again in pace with his own finger and the stroking of my hand.
I grew impatient and began to rock my hips in earnest. My hand tightened around his shaft and I stroked harder, faster. We rocked together, the waves of pleasure burgeoning ever upward. If at all possible, our passionate kisses deepened and then I was sucking on his tongue. He moaned low in his throat, and I felt the rumble in his chest beneath my breasts. It made me even hotter, and I pressed myself as close to him as I could. Our hands were busy, my mind swimming with exquisite pleasure. Never had I felt this way with a guy, not even my husband. Compared to Ben’s skill, the efforts of my former husband had been clumsy and lacking. Then, I felt it. It burgeoned, grew, and then exploded – the strongest orgasm I had ever had. My internal muscles clamped rhythmically around his finger, as if striving to hold him inside me. Wave after wave surged over me, leaving me breathless. I felt the surge of his climax beneath my hand as his hips rocked in pace with mine. He surged upward several times and then relaxed, both of us completely satiated.
I couldn't believe I could feel such passion and have such a strong orgasm without actually having sex, but Ben was extremely gifted. I felt a sense of pleasure that I had given as equally as I had received. As the waves of pleasure ebbed and my breathing slowed, I sat straddled on his lap, my arms now wrapped around him, resting my forehead against the crook of his shoulder.
After several minutes of silence, he spoke.
"Let's go upstairs. What do you say to Round Two?”
I don't know if it was the alcohol or the aftermath of such exquisite pleasure, but I nodded wordlessly as we climbed out of the Jacuzzi. I followed him shamelessly out of the Jacuzzi as naked and dripping water, we both padded into the house and upstairs to his bedroom.
*
I woke up, totally confused. My head pounded, I felt slightly nauseated, and oddly, the bed felt different. So did the sheets. They felt like butter, not like mine, which happened to be like T-shirt material. By the time I opened my eyes and glanced around, my heart began pounding in trepidation. Where the hell was I? Then, I realized. I was in a huge, four-poster bed, in a huge bedroom that belongs to Ben. I stared up at the ceiling, holding my breath, my heart pounding. Oh God, what had I done? I remembered the Jacuzzi, but I didn’t remember much after that.
I cursed myself for drinking. I never could hold my liquor very well, and my inhibitions must've been nonexistent if this is where I had ended up. I moved my head slightly to the side, growing even more alarmed when I saw Ben lying asleep next to me in the bed. My head was spinning, my thoughts even more wildly, in a million different directions. I tried not to freak out. I tried to ignore the pounding behind my eyes and the sudden urge to vomit. What the hell had I been thinking? I had never behaved this way my entire life! What kind of liberties had I allowed him? I was ashamed to admit that I didn't even remember much of what happened after we got to the top of the stairs.
I do know that we had made love several times and unbelievably, in several different positions. I got several flashes of memory that made my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I knew he had worn a condom the first time we had sex. That’s why we had come upstairs after the Jacuzzi. Unfortunately my head and thoughts were so fuzzy right now I couldn't remember much of any of what had followed and absolutely nothing after watching him roll that condom onto his huge, stiff, and erect penis. As I shifted my position in the bed, I felt soreness between my legs. My God, we must've gone at it good.
Very slowly, inch-by-inch, I made my way to the edge of the bed. I tried to slide off without shaking it, and then, climbing from under the sheet, realized I was totally naked. Shit. Where were my clothes? I saw nothing on the floor. I stifled a groan, remembering the sight of my borrowed bikini top and bottom's floating on the surface of the Jacuzzi. Then I recalled that I had changed out of my clothes into the bikini in one of the guest rooms upstairs.
Very carefully, covering my nudity as best I
could with my hands, I made my way around the bottom of the bed, keeping a careful eye on Ben all the while. He slept soundly, soft snores escaping from his mouth. Even though I was frightened, annoyed with myself, and felt like crap, I couldn't help but notice how cute he looked when he slept – like a little boy. His hair was tousled, a five o'clock shadow growing on his cheeks, so innocent looking. He hadn't been so innocent last night, I could guarantee that.
I made it to the closed door of the bedroom and reached for the knob. Very slowly, in increments, I turned it. I held my breath as I slowly opened the door, just wide enough to allow me to slip through. On the other side of the threshold and standing in the hallway, I closed the door just as carefully as I had opened it. The house was perfectly silent. I didn’t hear anyone. The latch made the slightest little clicking sound. With a sigh of relief, I quickly tiptoed to the guest bedroom at the end of the hallway. As fast as I could, I dressed, repeatedly cursing myself for my stupidity. I still couldn't believe I had allowed myself to spend the night with a literal stranger. We'll not a stranger exactly, but it wasn't like we were formally dating or anything.
By the time I ventured downstairs, the opulence around me forgotten in my haste to leave, I realized that it might be crass of me if I left without at least leaving a note. I ventured into the kitchen, saw a notepad next to a telephone handset, and started to scribble out a note. What should I say? Thank you? That didn’t feel right. It was true that I didn’t feel good, but I didn't think I should put that down either. I finally settled on, “Thank you for an enjoyable afternoon” and left it at that.
I didn't know for sure how I was going to get home. I didn't have any money for a taxi, but I did have a few dollars in my purse. Perhaps if I walked down the winding driveway to the road and then to an intersection, I might find a bus stop. My head pounding, my eyes squinting against the bright morning sunlight, I did just that. I could've kicked myself five hundred times and over for allowing myself to become so drunk that I had allowed him to take liberties – no, I don't think he'd taken liberties. I had been a perfectly willing participant. Shame on me.
