Madame Seductress

Kevin Smith urgently unzipped his trousers and unbuttoned his shirt as Bianca, wearing just a lacy flame-colored bra and thong set and her favorite Jimmy Choo mules, calmly smoked a cigarette and stared at the rain pouring outside the window. Manhattan looked gloomy that night.

Bianca and Kevin had gone to Café Rouge, where a cocktail turned into seven and where they’d decided to go back to his place.

With what seemed like animal hunger, Kevin wrapped his arms around Bianca’s waist and kissed her neck. “God, I want you,” he whispered in her ear.

Bianca did not stir. She found the rain crashing against the French windows far more interesting than Kevin’s arousal. She also found it interesting that most of her conquests were tall, dark and handsome investment bankers who owned enormous Park Avenue apartments. She’d never met an interesting man in her life—though she hadn’t a clue what made a man interesting. What was so interesting about an investment banker who lived on Park Avenue? Aside from their healthy bank accounts, the aforementioned men were as fun as plucking one’s eyebrows.

And Bianca hated Park Avenue—the thought of having rich old women with tiny dogs in their handbags as neighbors didn’t sit well with her. She’d much rather hang out in her neighborhood in SoHo, where eclectic cafés, fashionable restaurants and stylish art galleries dominated the area. God, she wished she had suggested going to her place instead. Now she had to struggle to get a cab in this God forsaken place.

Kevin traced his fingers up and down her spine as he pressed his erection against her hip. “You drive me crazy, Miss Cox,” he cooed.

Her back still facing him, she says, “Do I really?”

“Yes,” he whispered, kissing her softly on her shoulders. “You’re a strikingly beautiful woman, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

And she most certainly knew. Taking long, sensuous drags on her cigarette, Bianca felt like a femme fatale in an old movie—cool, collective, sexy. She loved the fact that she didn’t have to feign lack of interest in Kevin; she was genuinely not interested in him.

Kevin’s throbbing erection startled her when she turned to him, destroying her seductive mystique.

God, that’s ugly,

she thought as she watched Kevin stroke his cock in front of her. She’d always thought that penises were ugly, and she marveled at the way men treated their equipment as though it was something worthy of worship, like having a penis made them the masters of the universe or something.

I have a dick therefore I am.

Gaining her composure, she took Kevin by the hand and led him toward his stylish four-poster bed that overlooked a fifty-inch flat-screen TV with a DVD player and stereo system. In a swift motion, she took her bra and panties off and put a condom on his willy. He let out a loud moan as he pushed himself inside of her.

He was on top of her, panting irregularly in her ear as he thrust in and out. “Oh shit!” he groaned with pleasure. Bianca stifled a yawn and thought of dogs having sex, the way the bitch just stands there while the dog is on top of her, drooling and doing all the work. Men and women aren’t so very different. Most humans act on impulse and instinct, don’t they? The behaviors aren’t so very different either. After all, Kevin’s sweaty face resembled a bulldog’s as he continued to pant heavily and moan pleasurably. But if Kevin was a dog, then Bianca was a bitch. A beautiful bitch, of course—perhaps a Toy Poodle or a Shih Tzu.

She couldn’t wait for Kevin to finish. His breath stank and his thrusts had no effect on her. (She moaned every now and then and scratched his back for good measure.)

His quickened breath announced that he was about to come. Bianca braced herself. She clenched her muscles, tightened her legs around his waist and let out a groan that implied that she, too, had come. Kevin shook like a leaf and yelped with a triumphant air of ecstasy.

Bianca resumed her Madame Seductress act after Kevin pulled out and turned to the opposite side of the bed. He lit a cigarette and shared it with Bianca. As she puffed on the cigarette, she wondered how she’d get home. It was still raining outside and it would be difficult to hail a cab at two o’clock in the morning on Park Avenue, and she was too tired to walk to Central Park East to hail one. Would Kevin let her spend the night with him? She glanced over at him, a cheesy smile on his face, she reckoned he wouldn’t mind her staying at all. But did she want to spend the entire night with him? What if he wanted more sex? By God, she’d rather walk home in the rain than be subjected to that again!

“That was fucking great!” he said, taking the cigarette from Bianca’s fingers. “Wasn’t it great, gorgeous?”

“Um...yeah, it was great.”

Like watching paint dry.

“I can’t wait to do it again,” Kevin enthused.

Running in the rain to find a cab at two A.M. didn’t seem like such a bad thing after all.