mature xxx

It was probably the first place she had ever been that truly could be called a “Lounge.” After all, there had been many bars, joints, clubs and other assorted locales that had born such a title through their neon and plywood signs, but they all tended to lack that essential quality that let you truly ‘lounge.’ Most of them were loud joints, with music blaring, cheap beer on tap, and guys in dirty t-shirts and flip flops trying to look down your shirt while they tell you how big their dick is. Usually not in those words, but the message is the same, isn’t it?

But this place was different. Named “Reflections,” and hidden away on the 45th floor of the Hilton Downtown, it had elevated itself to #1 on her list of best kept secrets in the city. The view of downtown was breathtaking, the city lit up, the lights from the football stadium in the distance serving as a dramatic backdrop for the slow crawl of traffic down the main drags, and people scurrying through the encroaching cold. January around here could be a bitch. And the drink and cigar selection was extensive.

She turned back towards the piano sitting on an elevated platform, letting herself go in the song. The woman was not splayed across the black wood, but standing at the microphone, slowly swaying with her own voice, accompanied by the two men behind her. Amber loved it.

Unfortunately, it had been another failed date to get here. Spencer had seemed like a nice guy, a lawyer dealing with copyright law. They had meet through work, which should have been her first clue. An intern with an accounting firm, she had been tasked with helping the accountants hired by his team of legal beagles to find some discrepancies in a tech firms books. It had been two months of backbreaking labor, pouring over books that were shoddy at best, down right felonious at worst.

But throughout it all Spencer had been an upbeat, friendly face. He was human to the people that worked for him, and managed to make her laugh when they were still in the office at ten at night. So obviously laughing had lead to a bit more, before they had managed to recover their professional decorum, and postpone any hanky-panky until after the project was complete.

Which had been last Thursday. So he had called her, and on this Friday they found themselves in the Hilton Queen’s Ballroom at some charity function. It had taken him precisely 38 minutes to get sloppily drunk. At 55 minutes he had interrupted the keynote speaker by screaming out loudly, and throwing a tumbler of scotch at some of his friends at another table. At 1 hour, 6 minutes those friends had thrown two back. She had left not twenty seconds later.

The sign for the lounge had caught her eye on the way out, as she mentally calculated her chances of finding a cab, downtown, at seven at night on a Friday. Things did not look good. But the promise of a relaxed drink did, so she ascended upwards in the glass elevator, grabbed a seat at the bar, and let herself go in the music and atmosphere, the stress of the week and the pain and embarrassment of a bad date bleeding away.

Jonathan stepped out of the elevator, and looked down onto the city. He loved it here, loved living in the city. To bad that his ex-wife hated everything about it, and had done her best to poison the last ten years of his existence here. Which was amazing, seeing how she had been on the West Coast, three thousand miles away, for the last two of that decade. Women were another thing that fascinated him.

Turning to his right, he was greeted by Mario, who worked the Reflections coatroom. He handed the man his heavy overcoat and gloves, glad to be rid of the layer. He loved winter as much as the next man, but this one had not really been up to snuff. Little snow, lots of rain. If this kept up, he might have to permanently relocate somewhere with guaranteed annual snowfall. To bad most of those places were closer to the ex-wife. He really had to stop thinking about her.

The lights in Reflections were always dim, letting outside lighting play in, and giving the place an intimate, comfortable ambiance. He had seen that the charity ball downstairs was letting out, and he hoped that it did not filter up here. He doubted it, those things rarely did, but shit happened. He had an invitation to that abortion somewhere in his house, but he stayed away from such functions, sending a check instead. Nothing worse then a bunch of rich and wanna-be-rich people standing around telling each other how great they are because they gave peanuts to starving kids in Africa.

His eyes danced across the bar, and he spotted Rick trying to catch his eye. Heading his way at the back end of the teak bar, the massive black man leaned down to his friends level. “Seat number four, came up earlier. Bad date downstairs.”

“What makes you think I’m here for that tonight?”

“You’re always after that.”

“Touché, touché.”

He walked back down the bar, and sat next to the indicated seat, admiring the back view of a beautiful woman. Her hair was almost auburn in color, a deep, passionate flavor of hair. It even smelled good, and he was a good foot away from it. The gown she was wearing gave away that she not dressed up for a night at the clubs, but for something a bit more formal. It was a shoulder-and-sleeveless affair, dipping dangerously low towards her derriere, exposing a nice hourglass figure, tapering into a narrow waist, and a nice roundness sitting straight up and down on her stool. She was swaying gently back and forth with the music, one hand on the glass sitting on the bar. The fingers were long and elegant, with dangerously red nails tapping alternately on the bar and the glass.

He did not realize it, but he must have been staring, because suddenly he realized that she had turned around, and was looking him dead in the eye. Her eyes were big and green, dominating a face that was the picture of angelic innocence, with pouty red lips, a cute small nose, defined cheekbones and a high forehead. Her make up was soft and accenting, drawing attention away from the small groups of freckles that spotted the otherwise flawless skin on her cheeks.

But looking at him she was, and the alarm claxons were going crazy in his frontal lobe, trying to get the Duty Brain cells to get the mouth into gear, fire up the conversation processors, DO SOMETHING! But duty brain cell was not answering the radio, mainly because currently his eyes had tracked down her front, and realized that not only did she have a nice ass, but that her gown had a slit up the side to the top of very nice legs, which gave way to a flat stomach, which gave way to a very nice rack, the top of her gown barely containing the breasts looking up at him.

“Hello.” Her voice did not come towards him the way that normal sound waves do, did not vibrate the air between them and resonate in his eardrums. It was more of a wave, like a cloud of perfume that envelops and intoxicates you. It was low and smoky at the same time, with a gentle purring quality, with no hostility or aggression, just an offering of an opening.

Finally the Duty Brain cells ripped themselves away from the periscope, and hit the emergency startup button. The lungs fired up the oxygen burners, and the cortex spun into high gear, instantly developing a response, spitting out his most charming line.

“Hello.”

She smiled, slowly, spreading from the edge of her lips all over her face, like the sun rising. It was all he could do to tear his eyes away from hers, her emeralds mesmerizing him. “Can I buy you another drink?” Somehow the message that her glass was empty had gotten through, and he was acting on it. Small miracle at this point.

“I’m not sure. Already had one bad experience with a man today, why ruin the moment and create the opportunity for another?”

“Yeah, Rick told me. I was just offering it out as an apology from the rest of us, who would never treat you like that.” He was not really sure what last dude had done, but he was an idiot, and he was already thanking him. He had always been on his best at the rebound.

“You must come here often, if you know the bartender by name.”

Jonathan shrugged. He did not think it would help his cause to mention that he was a co-owner of the place, and that Rick was his personal trainer with a need for extra income. So instead he just waved at the man, and made a motion that told him to refill her, and bring him his regular vodka and cranberry.

She watched as Rick poured the drinks and deposited them before them on the little stone coasters, sliding her now empty glass beneath bar with a smile.

“Well, thank you, I guess.” She smiled at him again, and he told her that if she smiled like that again, he would buy her another one. Finally she laughed. “A charmer, are we?”

“Flattery gets you everywhere.”

“Ain’t that the truth!”

She watched as his eyes briefly roamed the room, tracing across the people, the piano, back to the massive walk in humidor, the bar, and then back to her. There seemed to be restlessness in him that she found rather alluring at the moment. “Am I keeping you from something?”

“No, I’m scooping out where I can abscond you to if the abortion from downstairs spills over.”

“You look like the type that would go to such a thing.”

“I hate them. I have an invitation somewhere at my house, but as you can tell, I did not attend.”

They looked up at Ricky as he approached, indicating the racks behind the bar with his head. “Anything tonight?”

Jonathan cast a look at Amber, then shrugged, thinking why the hell not. “You smoke cigars?”

“Rarely.”

“Good enough.” He nodded to Ricky, who disappeared through the stained glass door, reappearing a second later with two aluminum cylinders.

He did Amber first, cutting the back, and then letting her roll the cancer crutch in the flame from the massive torch he produced. Jonathan almost forgot inhale as he watched her smoke, adding an extra couple of seconds to the display of flame.

It was an intoxicating sight; the way her slender fingers held the cigar, bringing it up to lips that slowly enveloped it. She closed her eyes, cheeks slowly sucking in, and the look on her face was one of relaxed bliss as she let the cancer stick slip out, and she exhaled up and away from him. It was a very sensual display, one he could have watched all night.

“Is this your usual Friday night pursuit, chat up lonely girls in cigar bars and watch them smoke?”

“No, I was actually just thinking that I should do this more often. And besides, Friday nights should not be spent in sobriety, nor in loneliness.”

“You came in alone.”

“But I come here, where I know everybody.”

“Good one.” She looked around, not really sure who he meant by everybody. Besides the bartender, there was the singer, her pianist, and a man stringing a guitar. Three waitresses prowled the place, and she could make out about ten or so more patrons. “I just found the place earlier.”

“It is a bit of a secret.” Makes it more exclusive that way, he did not add.

“So am I into the secret club now, I have to keep the secret?”

“Sure do.”

“You the club president?”

“One could say so. I’m Jonathan.”

“Amber.”

“Naturally.”

“Excuse me?”

“Beautiful woman, beautiful name. Damn, that’s a pretty bad line.” They laughed together.

“You guys have a secret handshake?”

“Yup.”

She offered her hand, and he shook it, up and down twice, then let go. She gave him a bit of a queer look, then turned her hand over. He had slipped a piece of paper between her fingers. Slowly she unfolded it, the writing simply reading “Room #2718.” Her look turned questioning, and she saw something flash in his eyes.

“It’s an offer.”

“An offer?”

“Well, we can sit here all night, and I will do my best to dig you out of that dress. I put my chances at about 70%, gauging from everything I know. By the time we get through all that we’ll be decently drunk, and it will be about eleven o’clock or so. We’ll go to the room, and do our thing. It will be mind-blowing for me, but probably only ok for you. I’m not that young anymore, late hours and alcohol conspire to rob me of my athletic abilities. So instead, why don’t we just go down there now, I rock your worlds as best as this old man can, and then we do whatever comes to mind.”

He smiled as he finished his little monologue, realizing that his chances now were about an even 50:50. But it did conserve the rest of the night, which meant that if this did not work out, he had all night to try something else. But he really wanted this one.

She leaned back in her chair, slowly sipping her Cosmopolitan, her eyes roaming him. His suit was custom tailored, she could tell by the buttons on the arms and the material she had felt brush up against her when they had shaken hands. The white shirt and tie were of the same high quality. His skin was tanned and was the first indicator that he had passed the legal age for drinking a while back, probably about twenty years or so. But aging had probably made him more attractive, she admitted as she looked into his eyes.

They were a deep brown, surrounded by small laugh lines and crows feet that joined the graying temples and black hair to give him a distinguished appearance. He was sitting straight up and down, and she could tell that he kept in shape by the way his body managed to hold the form and the suit with no problem. She had been with an older man once, a man who had probably forgotten more about sex then all the rest of her partners put together had known. He had displayed that same subtle confidence, a knowledge of self that was not arrogance but an understanding of ones abilities and limitations acquired through a life of living.

She set down the glass, and looked back at the piece of paper. “Meet you there in ten minutes.”

He watched her slide out of her seat, smiling at him past hair hanging into her face, and then glide across the floor towards the ladies room. His eyes followed her every move, the way her hips moved, the flow her hair, the soft scent she left behind teasing him with what he hoped was to come. How delicious.

The elevator chimed as the doors parted, and she stepped out onto the 27th floor, already impressed. Unlike the Motel 6’s and Quality Inn’s that had defined most of her hotel experience so far, the lighting here was a bit more subdued, not the harsh hospital illumination favored by many. The artwork on the walls looked a lot better, and the carpet beneath her seemed to muffle her steps, absorbing her step as she moved along.

She came to the door with the ornate 18 on it, watching it glide open when she knocked. The click of the lock behind her sounded unnaturally loud, but she put that down to nerves. In here, the carpet was even higher quality, and the pictures on the wall were of vivid nature scenes. She walked down the short hallway, seeing a half bath in a hotel room for the first time. The living room she looked like it belong in an upscale private home, with the entire back wall being glass, looking down on the stadium. One could probably watch a football game from here, if you didn’t mind the players looking like ants with jerseys on.

He was standing by the glass, turning towards her when he heard her enter the room. She accepted the champagne flute he offered, and they looked down on the city, sipping silently. He could see her shoulders and back clench and relax, and he smiled to himself at the display of nervosity.

“You see that line of lights down there, along the edge of the interstate.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s City Park.”

“Really?” He worked his way back, pointing out other city landmarks, including the university she attended. The conversation came easy and natural, moving from things they liked and disliked about the city to the professional sports teams that called it home, until they were both sitting on the couch, on their second glass of champagne, laughing together at her predictions for next years world series.

When the kiss came, it was natural, a slow, relaxed conclusion to something that they had both hoped for. It was not rushed, not frantic, but a peaceful enjoyment of each others lips and tongues that took their breathes away, and left them glued together by passion. He came back for more, and she willingly gave it to him.

Crawling into his lap, she felt his hands on her, felt him touch her, felt him kiss her. But there was no urgency, and he took his time, building her ember into a raging fire with his fingers. They seemed to be everywhere, and she felt his teeth on her neck, lips on her back, hair rising standing up to greet him.

She had never experienced it before, the slow enjoyment of the beauty she had to offer, never listened to the soft whispers of treasures discovered, never enjoyed the comfortable dance of mutual seduction. Jonathan took his time with her, and she greatly appreciated it.

The move to the bedroom was not a frantic race, but more a slow journey with uncertain outcomes, and many stops in between. It left him naked, and she marveled at the firmness of the body she had discovered. He was very fit for his age, not the bulging muscles and tendons of boys her own generation, but with the type of body built by a lifetime of hard work, a life fully lived, and the marks and stories that come with such work.

When he finally slipped the gown over her head he marveled at what he found, kissing every inch of her skin, and leaving her wanting more. She offered it, but he refused, taking his time with her.

It was a match she could not win, no matter how hard she fought. The more she pushed it on him, the more he slowed her down. The more she fought it, the more he gained. She tried to speed up, but he only slowed down more, loving every inch of her with his lips and fingers. She cried and screamed in frustration as he pinned her hands above her head, sucking her nipples, teasing her pussy.

Her thong slipped aside, forgotten somewhere as he pushed his fingers inside, and she begged for relief as he toyed with her clit, licking her tits. Her whole body shook when he granted her wish, but he was not done, and continued to drive her higher and higher, promising sexual ecstasy while delivering excitement unlike any she had ever felt.

She writhed on the bed as he made another journey down her skin, out of breath already, and realizing that they had not even started yet. He was playing her like a violin, eliciting the sounds he wanted, and bending her to his will. His tongue on her clit drove her mad, and she screamed his name again as he tongue-fucked her.

He started at the outside, moving past her lips, pushing inside, stopping to take liberal time at her clit and pussy opening, before moving in and out, up and down, eating her, tasting her sweetness, licking her wetness, enjoying her body and soul. Her legs wrapped around his head, his hands continued their dance, and she cried, screamed and begged.

It was madness, it was stars she saw flashing before her eyes, it was the continuous shaking of her body from the orgasms he gave her; it was her sweating, panting, eyes rolling back in her head from the experience. It was too much, and it was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

It was an expected outcome when he entered her, but it was a release in and of itself when she felt him inside her. She clawed his back, tried to suck him deeper into her, her heels digging into him, her voice straining as she cried out. It was not gentle, it was not soft, it was hard loving, the kind she had dreamed of, the kind given to her by a man who was certain what he wanted, and knew for a fact what she needed. His cock felt massive in her, the big head teasing her lips and frigging her clit as he fucked her with strong, hard thrusts.

They were glued together by sweat, combined in panting and sucking air, their bodies moving independent yet together, driving each other higher and higher, the night seemingly endless as they lay together, enjoying the presence of the other, kissing, licking, biting, clawing, screwing. His release was just one more step in their journey, but one more that pushed her over the edge.
He was still moving in her, kissing her, whispering sweet nothings to her as his hands caressed her. She moaned and purred like the content cat she was, long legs draped across his body. Finally he released her, and she stumbled into the large bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her face was a mess, but the contentment in her eyes was clear. Wow. That was great sex.

She cleaned herself up, trying to calculate her next move. The decision got easier when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her. His hands moved to her tits, rolling her nipples, and pulling them.

“You are a beautiful woman.” His eyes roamed her body, admiring the symmetry in her features, the fire in her big eyes, the swell of her hips, her slender legs reaching down to the floor.

“Thank you. You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself.”

He kissed down her back, tonguing her ass, and she moaned. Lifting her up, he turned her and sat her on the counter. Again he slipped between her legs, and she cried out his name, fingers running through his hair, pulling him this and that way to direct her. It was truly skilled in that area, and apparently enjoyed doing it.

Carrying her into the shower, he let her slide to her knees to return the favor, the wet feeling of her mouth a truly divine experience. She was equally talented her, and she knew it. Her mouth moved back and forth, up and down, sliding across his cock in easy motions as she fondled his balls. He groaned and moaned, letting her take him places he had not been in a long, long time.

His fingers ran through her wet hair, the water pouring down on them from the rainspout shower head, his legs buckling, balls churning, the noises from her mouth driving him crazy. Pulling her up, he stopped it before it went to far. “Not like that. I want you again.”

“Whatever you want, I’m yours.” They kissed, long and hard, then he turned her around. She placed her hands against the wall, bending over, pushing up onto her tipsy-toes. He entered her from behind, and again they were connected, enjoying one another and the heights they took each other to.

“How did your date with Spencer go?” Allison shared the tiny cubicle with Amber, the two of them being students together in the accounting program, and fellow interns here at the accounting firm. So they were fast friends, and shared all their exploits.

“I would not call it a date. He was drunk before I had taken my coat off, and made a complete idiot of himself. I left, found this really cool bar upstairs in the hotel though. Beautiful view of the city.” She did not mention her tryst with Jonathan, not really sure why. “But he had the nerve to call me on Sunday, and complain that I left him hanging. Apparently he had big hopes for the night, and a hotel room.”

“How classy. Can I have my lipstick back now?” The girls laughed as Amber dug into her purse. It was actually her lipstick, but Allison had been wearing it the night they were out at the bars, and she meet her now boyfriend of almost a year.

Amber found the round tin, and pulled it out, handing it to her friend. Something fluttered out of her purse when she did so, but Allison ignored it laughing with glee at being able to sport her favorite color again. She was not sure why, but Amber had a secret power in selecting and finding lipsticks. Watching her friend suitably distracted, Amber bent down and picked up what she now realized was a check. Her eyes widened, and she stuffed it in her purse, spinning towards her computer to hide her face. She had to get to a phone. A private phone.

He could tell by the ringer that it was the private line that rang straight through, not the one that his secretary Madeline might intercept up at her desk. She served an important function as gatekeeper, but something’s had to come straight in. So he picked up the handset, hit the green button labeled “personal”, and pulled it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Should I be offended?”

“I was hoping you would call. Dinner tonight?”

“What?”

“You were in a bit of a hurry Saturday morning, so I didn’t have time to talk to you. I would like to talk to you.” He did not add that he had known better then to try to stop her. Girls her age were impulsive, and once in motion, he tried not to get in the way. Just let them run their course, and once they are out of steam, you can step in.

“Well…it was that post sex awkwardness! You were talking about breakfast and shit.”

“I wanted to stay in bed with you all day.” His voice made her cream herself, the thought of what that could have meant breathtaking.

“Pick me up at seven.”

She had not been entirely sure what to wear, so after some deliberation with her two roommates, she had decided on a simple black dress, and heels. He arrived right on the dot at seven, so she was obviously not ready. Tammy made small talk with the gentleman in the living room, and she could hear her friend laughing after dropping of the flowers he had brought. The questioning look in her eyes told Amber everything she needed to know, but she just shook her head as a form of response. She would explain later.

Finally she got her earrings in, and they headed downstairs. The car was a BMW 745I, and she commented that she had expected a Lincoln Town car.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. That’s what old people drive.”

“Damn. That’s cold.”

The place was a small affair downtown, with a name that looked Italian, but could have been French or Cambodian for all she knew. Jonathan was greeted by the Maitre’D like they were long lost brothers, then ushered to a small booth in the back. A bottle of wine was brought, and she watched him sniff the cork, nod to the waiter, and then pour them each a glass, ordering what was probably an appetizer in a language she did not understand.

“What was that?”

“Portuguese.”

“You speak Portuguese?”

“Ex-wife is Brazilian.”

“Really?”

“No, I just made that up.” He smiled, and for a second she was not sure if he was kidding or not. So she let it go, and smiled back. His hands crept across the table, covering hers, and pulling them close to him. Her scent was intoxicating to him, and he kissed her red nails, tasting her skin.

“I did not mean to offend you. But you kinda shot my conversational plan in the foot when you suddenly got in high gear and burst out the door.”

“Yeah well…it’s not everyday I’m sitting at work, and I realize that the man I got lucky with that weekend slipped me a couple grand.”

“Listen…Amber…you are beautiful young woman. You can have any man you want. And you could probably be happy with many of them. That is not what I’m offering.”

“What are you laying down?”

“A offer of a different kind. I’ve been married once, been in a couple of other long term things, and I realize now that I’m not interested in that whole thing. I do want the female companionship, the intimacy, I want somebody to enjoy art and travel with, somebody who shares interest with me, somebody who will sit next to me when Aida comes to town, and who knows what I’m talking about, somebody who is intelligent and conversational, attractive to look at, and who will let me spoil them rotten, and be at my beck and call.”

“You’re not married, are you? I’ve been down that road before, and I’m not going back.”

“No. I would not ask that of you.”

“So…what? And how do you know I have all those qualities.”

“I am a good judge of such things. I will pay you to be mine. I don’t want any emotional bullshit. I don’t want conversations about our feelings, or long term plans. I don’t want to hear about headaches, heartaches, or your feelings. I want to buy companionship.”

“You want an escort?”

“No. An escort is somebody who goes to dinner with you, and if you tip her really well she’ll suck your cock in the back of the limo, then imply you to call her again next time you are in town.”

“I take it you have been with one before.”

“I try not to remember that period of my life.”

“Sorry.” She meant it, and he could tell in her eyes. He loved those eyes. He seemed to get lost in the deep green every time, the fire inside attracting him. God, he loved to play with that fire. “So not an escort…a concubine?”

“Why are you so intent on naming it? I want you. I do. I don’t want any bullshit. I want you to be exclusively available for my cock, whenever I call. Screw the name.”

“Well…if you put it that way…”

“And I love to eat pussy.”

“When do we start?”

It was a lot less crass then she had thought. He was his charming self through dinner, and it was as if a layer had been stripped away, and he was more relaxed, finally himself. They laughed a lot, and she finally learned what he did for a living. When they ended up back at her place, it was not something either expected, but that happened because it was meant to happen, they had built that much sexual tension all night long.

She was beautiful in the moonlight falling through the window, her skin flawless when she stepped out of her dress. She let him tease her so long, then used muscles he did not know she had to push him down on the bed, and mounted him. It was his turn to scream as she rocked his world. He felt like he would drown in her ample breasts, and he could not think of a sweeter death.

Falling into the sheets drenched in sweat, barely able to breath he felt her kissing him, giving him what he had given her other night. It was a slow dance, a continuous give and take, a back and forth that left them both wanting more, and her underneath him, her ass pressing up into his crotch, his cock buried deep in her. It was her turn again to cry out as he enjoyed her tightness once more. She was amazed by his stamina, as he was amazed by her athletic abilities and flexibility. It was a beautiful event, one neither would soon forget.

This was important stuff. Really. There would be a test on it at some undetermined point in the future. Professor Soren never announced his tests ahead of time, so you had to go to every class, and be ready to be tested at any given point. She should be reading it. Should be studying it. Should be FOCUSED! But her mind was not in it.

Pushing the book away, she looked around the lobby of the student union building. Around her, other students were struggling with their own academic pursuits, while others rushed from class to class, trying to grab a bite to eat, coming in and out of the rain outside, shaking like wet dogs. She loved college.

She had claimed one of the leather lazy boys as her own, books and such spread around her, laptop on her lap, logged into the schools wireless network. She cast a last glance at the page, but Accounting 220 was not holding her attention today.

Instead she pulled up her bank account again, and stared at the screen. She had never at one point in her life had that much money. Wow. Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed his number again, waiting for his voice to reach through the ether.

“Hello?”

“I got a question.”

“Can I just answer it? Every two weeks, direct deposit, check, cash, whatever you want. You can throw out a number, and we’ll talk about it. The check I gave you is a signing bonus, and what I would consider a normal payment.”

“But it’s so much!”

“If you want less then that, if that is what you are more comfortable with, that’s fine, too. Whatever you want here, baby.”

“Half. But you still have to pay for everything when we go out.” She enjoyed that part. She had always been old fashioned that way. If she went out with a man, he should pick up the tab.

“Naturally. We say half, I pay for everything, and I get to take you shopping once a month. We’ll shake on it.”

“You busy right now?”

“Never to busy for my sweet piece of ass. What are you wearing?”

“A skirt, crop top and heels. You’ll like it.”

The building was easy enough to find, holding the distinctive jukebox shape, and being the third tallest in a row of office towers that dominated the skyline of uptown. One of several towers that the banks had stomped out of the ground, the restaurant located at its apex was much more famous then Reflections, but lacked its ambiance. She had been to Upstairs before.

But today she pulled around to the ramp that lead underneath the building, rolling to a stop at the security barrier next to the guard shack. The uniformed man leaned out, handing her a green parking pass. He must have been expecting her. “Go down the ramp to the deck marked Zebra, it’s the second one down. Then hang a right, and go to the far wall. The spots are marked reserved, and have green spade looking things painted on them. Pick any open one, and hang the tag in your rearview mirror.”

She thanked him, then slowly descended into the darkness. His directions were right on, and she spotted Jonathans Beemer at a spot right next to the elevator. Good location, she thought as she waited for the doors to slide apart. She had to walk across the lobby, then ascend another elevator to the thirtieth floor. That would be a bitch if they had a fire drill, she thought.

The doors opened, presenting another lobby. From floor to ceiling this one screamed that you had stepped into a place with money to spend, meant to impress with accents, subtleties, and hidden charms. The receptionist sat behind a wood and steel counter, her headset small and almost invisible in her blond mane. A massive waterfall sat across from the elevator, with bronze letters proclaiming “Enders, Games & Robinson Capital Group, P.A.” Wow, he had his name on the wall. Looking deeper into the lobby, she could see a sitting area with large leather couches, a glass wall that allowed you to see down onto the city, and wide spiral staircase that took you further up.

The look the receptionist gave her was one of skepticism when she said that she was there to see Mr. Games. It turned to straight disbelief when she called upstairs, and was told to have the lady please wait, somebody would be down shortly.

The person that came down was an elderly lady, dressed in a purple kind of suit that women of her generation wore to work in offices, and other professional places. She had a massive smile on her face, and somehow Amber just pictured her making the grandkids happy on Christmas morning.

“You must be Amber!” Her way of greeting was a hug, which took the young woman by surprise. “Come, come. So glad to meet you. Mr. Games told me all about you. I’m Madeleine.”

“You work with him?”

“I’m his secretary.” They headed up the stairs as Amber firmly banished the “dick-tation” image she had envisioned for his slut-retary. So much for that idea. Showed how much she had to learn about him. “I’ve worked for Mr. Games for almost twenty years now. He always tells me to call him Jonathan, but how would that look after all this time! When he first started at the bank across town, I worked for him, and he took me with him whenever he started moving up. When he started this company with his friends, he brought me over.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I have certain skills he finds essential?”

“Such as?” She had probably been young when they had first started, she imagined, remembering that Jonathan was at least in his forties…

“I can read his hand writing. It’s atrocious. His mother always tells me that she wanted him to be a doctor. It would fit so much better.” The woman laughed, an infectious loud laughter of a woman who liked to laugh.

They went up four floors, and Madeline pointed out that she liked to use the stairs to help her stay young. Not that she seemed to need it, the woman had the energy of somebody half her age, and talked at a mile a minute about how great Mr. Games was as an employer and a human being, and how glad she was that he had found somebody to make him happy. “As long as you are not a witch in disguise, like his ex-wife. I’ll scratch your eyes out.” The announcement was followed by more laughter, and Amber was not sure how serious to take it.

They came to the proverbial corner office, with a large outer office, which held Madeleins Desk and a large sitting area. The double doors stood open, and she ushered her chargeling inside, closing the doors behind her.

Amber took the time to look around before approaching him. Two walls were glass, allowing a view down onto the city and other buildings around. She knew that they were mirrored from the outside, but from up here, they looked clear as day. The carpet was thick and firm under her shoes, muffling her steps as she approached him. There were two doors recessed, semi-concealed in one of the real walls, and there was another seating arrangement in one corner. These people liked to hang out. There was a small bar in one corner, along with a long conference table.

His desk was massive, covered in papers, magazines, and spreadsheets. The chair behind it looked huge, but slightly worn. He was standing with his back to her, talking on the phone, the cord wrapped around his shoulder as he looked down on the city.

She snuck up behind him, kissing his neck softly as she wrapped her arms around him. She could see his smile in the reflection in the glass. Slowly she traced her fingers down his body as she slithered around him, kissing his jaw and neck. He turned his head slightly, still talking into the phone as she inhaled his scent, wanting more.

Slowly she sank to her knees, finding him already hard and ready to be released. She slowly pulled down the zipper, reached inside, and giggled with glee at what she found. Her dear friend had missed her, and she could tell by the tear it shed. Licking up the precum, she kissed it gently, then slowly sucked it into the back of her throat.

He almost gasped out loud, leaning his forehead against the glass, his free hand grabbing her hair. She took her time, sliding him back and forth in her mouth, her balls feeling his heavy balls, one finger teasing and sliding across his ass.

When her eyes looked up, she could see that his were screwed shut, his face beet red, breathing barely under control. He was talking about cost overruns, development timelines, something she did not care about right now. All that mattered to her was the feeling between her lips, his fat cock sliding across her teeth as she carefully closed them down, the head in the back of her throat spasming as she swallowed.

To himself he admitted that she was a very skilled cocksucker. The feeling of her tightly pursed lips, the sensation of her teeth dragging across wanting skin, the thing she did with the back of her throat (he had never experienced that, and he loved it!), the feeling of her nails scratching his balls. It combined itself into an experience that he did not want to end, a feeling that was heavenly.

His mind was a very organized, very tightly disciplined place. He was able to shut down just about everything, and focus clearly on tasks at hand that needed to be accomplished. He had great processing power between his ears, enough to grind through most problems that involved numbers and money with ease, and come to a solution that solved whatever problem he was currently facing.

But it was failing him, and failing fast. He had to get off the phone, and he knew it as he felt his cock twitching in her mouth. His legs felt like they might fail him, something he was used to when she used his mouth on him. But it still always took him by surprise.

He slammed the receiver down, crying out as his cock shook in her mouth, shooting wad after wad of hot cum down her throat. She squealed, grabbing his hips, pulling him deeper into her throat, sucking him clean. It was unbelievable, as she licked him clean, and he collapsed into his chair, breathing heavy.

She climbed onto his lap, kissing him long and hard, cuddling up to her man, feeling him. They sat together, kissing and touching one another, until she pushed away, climbing onto the desk. Lying back on her elbows, she spread her legs, flashing him with the lacy white thong she was wearing, putting her heels on his shoulders.
“You like it?”

“I love it!”

“I meant the outfit.”

“How you gonna ask me something like that when you are sitting here flashing me.”

“The thong is part of the outfit.”

“You are a dirty little girl, you know that? All I’m trying to do is bring the destitute people of Monroe a mall, and here you come, about to suck my brain through my dick.”

“You bring it out in me. And besides, I’m from Lincolnton, we don’t even have a mall yet.”

“Well, I’ll work on that.”

Her legs wrapped around his head, pulling him down into her pussy. She knew what he wanted to do, and happily obliged. It was only seconds, then he had her thrashing around on his desk, her pussy flooded with juices, sparks racing up and down her spine as he dove in.

His tongue was strong and powerful, fucking in and out of her, sucking her clit, nibbling it. His hands seemingly were everywhere at once, touching, caressing, feeling, pinching. She was moaning, crying, screaming, begging for more, begging for him to stop, cursing, her hands flailing about, pulling him in deeper with her legs.

It was like being tossed about by the surf, wave after wave crashing into her, taking her places she had never been without him. He pushed his tongue in deep, then pulled it back and concentrated on her clit, tattooing it, then moving back in, back and forth, moving to a beat only he could hear, one that she felt pulsating in her body as he toyed with her, leaving her a blathering mess on his desk.

When he stopped she smiled down at him, letting him pull her into his lap. She kept her legs up over his shoulders, sliding right down on to his cock. She groaned as he filled her, pulling her top up around her shoulders to expose her tits. He was bouncing her on his lap like a little rag doll, her tits jiggling all around as he pinched her nipples.

The whole thing had a certain pornographic quality to it, so she got into it, making all the appropriate noises, playing with her tits, squeezing his cock with her pussy. He was moaning with her now, fucking her deep and hard. He slid one hand under her hips, lifting her ass to get deeper into her, making her cry out.

It was a beautiful union of two people who wanted to please each other, their bodies sweating, their minds focused on the pleasure they were giving their partner, the moment seemingly stretching forever, his cock pounding up and into her, driving her crazy.

He got into it with her, but by now the noises were real, her eyes rolled back in her head with the orgasms racing through her. He always seemed to last forever the second time round, like being screwed by a vibrator powered by the energizer bunny. Her legs were shaking, and her whole body joined in when he shot his load in her, screaming out loud.

They both had to catch their breath, kissing all over. Slowly he eased her legs down, holding her close. She got more kisses for her trouble, then he pointed her towards one of the two doors she had noticed when she came in. Behind it she found a small bathroom, and took the time to clean up, before coming back in. He was in the process of cleaning up his desk, and she joined in, not really sure where any of the papers went, or what they meant.

“You a mind reader?”

“No, that a job requirement?”

“Not really, but I was thinking how nice it would be to see your sweet ass, and then you called.”

“Well, you know. I can’t stay away too long, little Jonathan misses me.” They both laughed, and then kissed again. She walked around the desk, and brought up the Internet on his computer. “You get in trouble for surfing non work related sites at work?”

“You think I do?”

“Guess not.” He did have his name on the wall, she remembered. “Get me one of these. All good call girls have one.” She turned the screen, showing him what she had heard about last night.

“How would you know?”

“Did some research. I have friends who’ve been with sugar daddies before.”

“Is that what I am?”

“Well, what do you want me to call you to my friends?’

“What do I call you to my friends?” He thought that was a pretty good reply, fully expecting that his relationship speech had killed this topic.

“Your sweet piece of ass. Or your call girl. I like call girl.”

“Really?” That took him by surprise.

“Yeah. I’m your call girl, you are my sugar daddy.” She slowly stalked back around the desk, letting him watch her come. She knew fully well that he could not resist the smoldering look in her eyes, the flow of her hair around her face and shoulders, the way her hips swayed, and the way her tits seemed to come towards him as she approached him. The way his breath quickened told her as much. Slowly she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him long and hard.

“You said it yourself, I’m not some dumb bimbo. I know what I’m doing. And I’m doing you. As much as you want. I put in my two weeks notice at work. I’m all yours. I’ve been in college for almost three years, and I have enough credits to say that I’m almost a sophomore in accounting. Yay. I’m done wasting time screwing around. The only thing getting screwed is you. So you are going to put me through school. And I’m going to put you in happy land, whenever you say the word.”

She kissed him again, reaching down and squeezing his cock. He moaned softly into her lips. “You know my cell phone number, call whenever you want some.”

“You are amazing.”

“And all yours. Got time to break in that couch?”

Jessica was the resident cook, based on the fact that she loved to be in the kitchen and her two friends would rather gouge out their own eyes with rusty spoons then attempt to burn the place down by touching something that might produce heat. So Amber and Tammy just sat around the counter that was the border to Jess’s domain, a place they were only allowed to enter when told to.

Sometimes they would study, smelling the fragrances of whatever it was they would soon be devouring, but most of the time they just sat and talked, the way that girls in college will. They were all twenty one, and all had been in college for at least two years, and each of them had changed majors at least once. Like most students trying to achieve a B-something or another in one thing or something different, the road for them was not as straight and narrow as advertised, but rather swooping and swinging.

“So…what is his name again?” Tammy was on her fourth major in three years, and contemplating changing again. Her main problem was that she had no staying power.

“Jonathan.” Amber was only on her second, but not really because she loved it, but more because accounting was a business that was not going to go away anytime soon, and promised a reasonable chance of the steady income and quality of life that she sought.

“He’s not married, is he?” Neither Tammy nor Jessica had been big fans of David, her former married lover. It had been a textbook infidelity arrangement, with him telling her that he would leave his wife, stringing her along until she realized that he was not going anywhere, not while he could tag her during the day or whenever he snuck away, and then go home and impregnate his wife.

“No, he’s not. Divorced, couple years ago. Did I tell you guys that he speaks Portuguese?” If there was one sore spot to her relationship with him, it was the ex-wife. He never mentioned her, and she only seen one picture of her at his place, but she was a stunningly beautiful woman, what you would expect from a Brazilian after seeing Heidi Klum in a magazine.

“Yeah, you mentioned it. You also mentioned that he is good friends with this Rick guy.” A side benefit to knowing Jonathan was the amazing variety of people he was friends with. All three girls were now regulars at Work Out World! (referred to as WOW in conversation), where Rick was a personal trainer who always had time for friends of Mr. Games.

“He is, why, you want his phone number?”

Jessica smiled a coy smile, turning away. If there was a girl with absolutely no sexual aggression in her, it was Jessica. At least until you got her behind closed doors. Everybody here had heard her scream and curse when anybody got her into a bedroom. And she had a particular thing for black men. Especially massive black men with forearms like a normal persons thigh. Rick fit the bill perfectly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Amber wrote it down in her day planner, which brought another question from Tammy. “So…what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…let’s see. We used to have to beat you to go to the gym. Now you go at least four times a week. You are concentrating on school, and your grades are getting way better. You have a day planner, for gods’ sake! By the way, can I borrow your Gucci boots tonight?”

Amber threw her head back, laughing out loud. Her first shopping spree with Jonathan had been last weekend, a day spent at the exclusive South Park Mall. She had been to South before, mainly to look at all the things she could not afford. He had started of small, in his world, buying her a diamond tipped stud for her belly button. She had been a fan of the stainless steel barbell, but why not? She figured that would be it, but he was only warming up.

It had been a continuous battle all day long, with her saying no, him smiling, and then waving his AmEx card. She did not know how much he ended up spending, but she knew it was over her strong objections, and way too much. She had told him that she did not like shopping, and she had meant it. He had not believed it at first, but by the end of the day he had admitted that she was right. Making the pleasure of spoiling her that much more exquisite. But once it was here, well, why not enjoy it?

“Sure. Don’t scratch them, though. I haven’t even worn them yet. And I don’t know. There are only two things going on, him and school. So I’m focused.”

“On both?”

“Oh yeah. He makes it easy.” She even had him penciled in for the next day.

She had never been to a silent auction, but the concept seemed pretty fun. Go to an art gallery, write down numbers, sip champagne, and eventually go to dinner. She had not counted upon the beauty of the art, and the effect it had on her.

They wandered through the gallery, moving from piece to piece. He asked what she thought, and they would talk about it, the conversation going from factual to flirting to down right dirty and back in the turn of sentences. It was turning her on, and she told him so. He only smiled, and they moved on, his arm around her waist, feeling the heat from her skin through the dress.

“Can I ask you something?” She was looking around, and realized that she was not the only young woman who had come on the arm of an older gentleman.

“Anything sweety.”

“How many of your friends have a trophy piece?”

He stopped, and turned her to face him. His kiss was soft and gentle, leaving her wanting more, pushing onto her tipsy toes to chase down his retreating lips to get what she sought. He gave it to her, and she pushed against him, her tits mashing into his chest.

“Well…I don’t know. I do know that many of them have mistresses. I think the more successful and rich you get, the more likely it is. It’s like buying another car. One hundred grand on a Porsche, or that much for some young thing with big tits. You’ll drive the car a couple of times, then it is just a car. Or you can ride her for a couple of months, and then move on.”

She nodded slowly, letting his words sink in.

“You, by the way, are not a trophy piece.” They were heading into the next room, and he nodded to a man who had brought a young Asian lady with him. “You are my call girl.” They kissed again, but she said nothing.

It wasn’t until later that night at the Thai place he brought her for dinner, another place where he was greeted like royalty, that he could not stand the rolling in her eyes anymore, and asked her what she was thinking.

“What you said earlier. When this is over, what is going to happen?”

“I’ll decide when I’m moving on, and we’ll part ways friends. Or maybe you get tired of dealing with my cranky self, and you walk away. But I still hope we can be friends. You’re fun to be around.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him, her leg tracing up his under the table. “My friends want to know if you know anybody else looking for a call girl.”

“You becoming a Madame now?”

She laughed out loud, a crystal clear laugh that always brought happiness to his face, a deep laugh that had her tits jiggling in the small dress, her foot vibrating against his crotch. He needed some more of that.

“No, no. It’s like I have a great new boyfriend, and everybody wants to know if he has a brother.”

“I’ll ask around. I have something for you in the car.”

She gave him a scowl. “No more presents.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know! You spend to much on me as it is!”

“Amber…it is nothing. I gave a hundred grand to the Humane Society the other day, its nothing.”

“You like animals that much? I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t, not really. But I like tax refunds, and I like their donation to production ratio.”

“Jonathan…you are a sweet man…”

“With too much money. Ride the gravy train while it lasts honey.” He stopped himself, but she did not notice.

After dinner they parked up by City Park, and he reached into the back, handing her the box. She undid the wrapper, pulling out another box, this one black and velvet. Pulling it open, she found the panties she had shown him on his computer that day in his office. Giggling, she felt the stubs that would reach up into her pussy, running her finger up the string that went up her ass, feeling the thin, flexible wire that was the antenna.

“They are not the exact ones you showed me. These are more advanced.”

“Really?”

“You’ll see.”

She kissed him, long and hard, squeezing his cock. “Hold still.” She climbed over onto him, sliding the seat back with fast fingers. Reaching behind herself, she hit the buttons for the satellite radio. He did not recognize the song, it was some kind of Rap, but a quick glance at the display told him it was 2Pac.

She was dancing on his lap, the dress slowly easing upwards until it was off, her tits swaying freely before his face.

“Ever frequent strip clubs?”

“Could never see paying for something I couldn’t take home.”

“Now you don’t need to, you have your own personal stripper.”

Slowly she released his cock, sliding up and down on his lap, her tits in and out of his face. She was a beautiful dancer; he had to admit, even working in such cramped spaces as this. Her movements were with the beat of the song, and her movements along his cock were driving him mad.

It wasn’t long, then he was inside, and she was riding him like a wild bull. Her screams echoed around the car as she took him higher, higher, higher, fucking him senseless, making him beg, her tits almost smothering him. It was heaven, a piece of heaven in his car, and he did not want it to end. They steamed up the windows, she let him blow it in her pussy then sucked him clean, and finally he turned the car towards her place.

“The bed you bought me got delivered the other day.”

“You like it?”

“Why don’t you come up and try it for yourself?”

“Trying to kill me?”

She purred, softly kissing his cheek. “You know, you can stay over. I’m ok with that.”

He smiled at her, his fingers nervously tapping the steering wheel. He was not sure when, where, or how it had happened. But somewhere along the line, power had shifted to the woman sitting next to him. The sweet little vixen with the magical pussy and the mystical eyes had slipped herself into his life, into his soul, and now he could not live without her. It was his discipline that kept up the few walls he had left, manned the last barriers and defenses. So he shook his head. “No. You have school tomorrow morning, and I have to go to work. If you screw me again, I’ll be useless. Besides, I have a conference call on building a mall in Lincolnton tomorrow. You don’t want to screw that up, do you?”

She smiled. “Speaking of school. I’m going to have a night class next semester. I couldn’t get into the one in the morning, but I need the class to move on in accounting. So you’ll have to get your fix on alternate days.”

“What do you mean, a night class?”

She explained the way the school assigned times to go online and register for class, and how she had been just about last, due to her low class standing. “So by the time I got to register, the spots in the morning class were taken.”

“That’s crap. You still got the time open?”

“Yeah.”

“I know the Provost, I’ll call him. I’ll take care of it.”

“You know Provost Jenkins?”

“Yeah.”

“Who don’t you know?”

“You know students, right?”

“Yeah….”

“Well, in twenty years, those students will be Provosts. They will own restaurants, banks, and businesses. It’s the flow of things, young grass hopper.”

“Smart ass. Now come upstairs. And I hope you aren’t building a mall back home because of what I said.”

She took another look at the man who had entered her life, trying to gauge again where he stood. There was something to him, something beneath the surface, something he was trying to keep hidden. There was much about him she did not know, things she did not ask about, or had learned not to ask about. Business was one of those things. He did not like talking about work when he was with her, and she respected that.

“Because of what you said I had some studies dug out. There was a company three years ago that wanted to do it, but financing fell through, and the group almost went bankrupt over it. We are trying to buy their development plans and survey rights.”

“I’m going to ask a question. It means nothing. It is just something that popped into my head.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you own a plane? You spend all this money on nothing, you seem like you would own a plane.”

“Yes. I have a yacht, too. And a house in Aspen, if you are going to ask that next.”

“So I guess you have a pilot, too?”

“Yes, but I can fly it myself.”

“I guess you’re already a member of the mile high club, then?”

“I’ll initiate you soon enough.”

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