Sara-Dipity

by EmeraldEye2 (formerly EmeraldEye)

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Author's Note: This story is based on a dream I had. *wink*

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Pouring rain, near freezing, and I was wandering the streets in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Embarrassingly, it was the second time I'd been chased out of my apartment by my landlady with a broom for not paying the rent on time. At least the last time, it had been July--warm, and lots of friends home from college that would let me crash on their couch. On a night like this, even the homeless shelter had to turn me away.

"Crazy Sara," everyone called me. The girl who thought she could 'make it' as an artist. Look where it got her. I was a living, breathing cautionary tale for parents who wanted their kids to major in Engineering instead of Philosophy.

Broke, homeless, freezing and desperate.

On a lark, I decided to walk through the snooty part of town. Maybe I could find a gazebo or pool shed to hide in for a while.

"Hmm, not much, but it would do," I grumbled sarcastically to the first house I passed--a mass of brick and windows with a circular drive and a four-car garage. The house was glowing with a warm light. My heart wrenched for someplace cozy and comfortable, and suddenly the enormity of my situation caught up to me.

The first tears had intermingled with the rain and started to fall down my cheeks when I heard a man's voice call, "Sara!"

"Uh, yeah?" I called back, uncertain of the voice's origin.

Someone in black was running down the driveway toward me. "Sara? Is that you?"

"It is, but...."

"Damn taxi drivers never wait to make sure you get in, do they? And your bags? Where are your bags?"

"They were, um.... Look, I think...."

"Lost. No need to explain. Come with me--let's get you out of this rain."

I realized I was being helped up the driveway by a real, live butler, complete with tailed tuxedo and white gloves.

"Have we met?" I asked, incredulous. Was this a dream?

The butler laughed. "Of course not, but maybe Brooks has mentioned me. I'm Abernathy. I know, this ridiculous get-up I have on. I think Liza wants to impress you," he added with a wink.

"Impress me?" I repeated as Abernathy held open the front door for me. Whatever this was, it was crazy, but finally I was someplace warm and dry. I would go with it for as long as it would last.

My eyes took in everything around me. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. An enormous crystal chandelier fifty feet overhead cast a glow on ornate, gilded vases with exotic plants growing out of them, an expanse of marble underneath my feet, and....

"Is that a Breitner?" I asked, stepping toward a large painting of a reclining nude inside a carved wooden frame. I stopped when I heard "schlup, schlup, schlup."

"Oops, sorry," I said, looking back at the trail of water my shoes had made behind me.

"It IS a Breitner!" said a cheerful voice. "How charming; Brooks didn't mention you were an art aficionado." A short, well-dressed woman was tapping toward me with heeled shoes that echoed against the marble floor as she walked. Her hair was dark and piled haphazardly on top of her head. She wore snazzy-looking glasses and bright red lipstick.

"Never mind the puddles. Just leave your shoes there. Abernathy, darling, you'll take care of it, won't you?"

"Of course, Liza. Miss Sara's bags were lost by the airline."

"Oh for Christ's sake, those stupid airlines," Liza spat. "You can wear something of Diana's. Abernathy will lay it out for you. In the meantime, come and sit by the fire! You're totally soaked."

I got the impression Liza was not as formal as her money would suggest.

I followed Liza into another massive room where a roaring fire made the room almost unbearably warm. To me, it felt like heaven.

Liza handed me a large faux-fur wrap and I gratefully enveloped myself in the soft fabric. I sunk into a plush velvet sofa and let her serve me a cup of steaming tea from a silver tray that glittered as it reflected the flames of the fire.

I took a sip of the hot liquid and could hardly choke it down. This was not mine; this was not right. I had to come clean.

"You.... Both of you, you and Abernathy...have been very kind, but I have something I need to confess. I'm not really.... Well, I'm Sara, but I'm not--"

"Don't say another word!" Liza said giddily. "You're not what we were expecting. I'm not upset, dear. I think it's wonderful!"

"Excuse me?"

Liza shook her head. "Brooks. He's such a jokester. He knows how I feel about blondes. I shouldn't be surprised that you're actually a brunette. The 'impeccable dresser' thing? What a relief to see a girl in a t-shirt and sweatpants. And," she continued with a glint in her eye, "he told me you were trying to lose 30 pounds before the wedding. What a hoot; you have a beautiful body!"

"Wedding?!"

"Yes! Which reminds me, I have to get a look at that rock. I told Brooks to go for four carats instead of three. You only live once, right?" She reached out for my left hand.

Suddenly, the front door opened and slammed thunderously. I almost screamed. The jig was up. It was the real Sara, who was going to appear in the doorway, all fat and blonde and expose my lie. It was--

A guy. A tall guy. A tall, tan, hunky guy.

All my life, I'd been the artsy girl--the one who hung out with the goths and the skinny emo guys. Muscular jocks did nothing for me, I always told myself...but who was I kidding. Sometimes a girl just wants to be bent over something sturdy by a guy like...well, like the one who was collapsing next to me on the couch, crossing his light-colored eyes adorably as he looked up at a rogue piece of dripping, curly hair falling into his face.

He was wearing a polo shirt that strained against the muscles of his upper body. His skin was damp from the rain and gave off a glorious scent, a mixture of sweat and cologne. I just looked at him, speechless.

He gave me a funny look in return. "Who's this?" he asked Liza.

Liza wagged her finger. "No fair pretending any longer, Brooks," she said. "I'm on to you. Sara and I were just having a delightful talk."

"Sara?" He looked at me again, a furrow in his brow. His smooth, tan, sexy brow.

"I was trying to explain," I said, throwing off the faux fur wrap. I needed to be unencumbered in case I needed to make a run for it.

I fumbled for words as Brooks' eyes took in my wet t-shirt, or, more appropriately, what was underneath. He looked again at my face--not a model's face, but cute, sort of pixie-ish...or so I'd been told. The confused look on his face was replaced by a large grin.

"Come here, you," he said, interrupting me. He wrapped his large arms around me and tackled me down onto the couch. I was pinned beneath his weight, lost in his skin and scent and gasping for air. My initial wave of panic gave way to a wave of desire as I looked into his eyes, a fraction of an inch away from mine.

He nuzzled into my neck and began covering my flesh with soft-lipped kisses. "We got you big-time, didn't we, Mom?" he said between kisses. "Here she is, my sweet little Sara. I missed you so much, honey."

He raised himself off of me a little, looked at my lips, and lowered his right onto them. It was the most incredible, dizzying kiss I had ever received. My heart pounded and I could hardly believe it, but I kissed back, urgently. When we parted his eyes were still a little confused, but very pleased.

Liza erupted into laughter. "That's enough, you too. Whew, is it hot in here?"

Brooks stood up and offered me his hand as I struggled to sit back up and get my bearings.

"You need a hot bath," he said.

"Lovely idea," Liza agreed. "Abernathy should have laid out some of Diana's clothes for you to wear to dinner," she said to me. "Upstairs to the right, third door on the left."

"Um, okay...." I said, wobbling a little.

"I'll take her there, Mom," Brooks said, grinning maddeningly.

"You will?" I squeaked.

Liza chuckled. "I'm not old-fashioned, I know how it is when you're young and in love," she said. "Just be downstairs at seven for dinner."

"C'mon." Brooks took my hand and led me out of the room. I felt like the opposite of Cinderella--frazzled-looking, going up the majestic stairs instead of down. At least the handsome prince thing was the same.

Brooks opened the third door on the left and led me inside. As soon as I was in the room, he shut the door behind me and pushed me up against it. In the pitch black, his lips found mine and pummeled me with another incredible kiss. Another wave of desire weakened me.

"Good God, what are you doing?" I gasped, trying to sound upset but failing miserably. I had no sight to aid me--only the sense of smell, which was overcome by his musk and the sense of touch, which was tingling all over with the heat of his body pressing against me.

"I'm giving you a bath," he replied, lifting my shirt off of me and casting it aside. I could only manage a murmur before he was kneeling in front of me, slipping me out of my soaking sweatpants and underwear. For a moment, he paused there. I felt his deepening breath on my pelvis. I knew he was contemplating sliding his tongue over me right then and there, and I don't think I would have stopped him. But then he stood back up.

"You're shivering," he said. "I'll draw up the bath for you. C'mon."

He walked away from me and turned on the light in an adjoining bathroom. I followed, sorely disappointed.

He sat on the edge of the tub and held his hand under the water. "Do you like it sort of warm, or really warm?"

"I like it hot," I said, the sultry tone of my voice surprising even myself. I perched in the doorway, aware of my own nudity and not caring one iota.

He chuckled and turned around. He gave my body a once-over and I could tell he was pleased with what he saw. Maybe he would come after me again. I tingled everywhere at the thought of it.

But no, he stood up, went into the linen closet and pulled out a big, fluffy towel. "There's shampoo and soap next to the sink. Abernathy probably laid out your clothes on the bed. They ought to fit--my sister's roughly the same shape and size as you."

Oh, great. I had the same body as his SISTER.

He left and I shakingly went through the normal motions of taking a bath after the very not-normal experiences of the last ten minutes. The water felt amazing under a sea of sweet-smelling bubbles, and my hand couldn't help but slip between my legs.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Everything okay?" It was Brooks.

"Fine, but--"

"But what?" he replied quickly.

"I'm lonely," I pouted.

"You're what?" I saw his nose poke through the crack in the door.

"Lonely."

"What?" he peeked around the corner and shook his head at the sight of me in the tub. "Oh, man."

I grinned back, on to his game. "Are you hard of hearing?"

"Sometimes," he replied.

"Then you better come real close."

He walked in to the bathroom eagerly and knelt down next to the tub. "I could kick myself," he said.

"Why?"

His arm disappeared beneath the bubbles and immediately found its destination. "For not taking you when you were all wet and dirty."

My entire body pulsated with lust as his thick fingers rubbed past the swollen organ I'd brought halfway to orgasm only moments earlier.

"I try to be a gentleman," he went on, his fingers flicking deftly between my legs, "but at the end of the day, I am what I am and I can't help it." His voice deepened at the end of that phrase and he leaned in toward me. His face looked stone-like, heavy with lust.

I grabbed his head with my hands and pulled it into my kiss. My tongue mirrored what he was doing between my legs--rolling, sliding, slipping in and out.

Suddenly it wasn't enough for him. He crawled into the bathtub over me--polo shirt, khaki shorts and all. Displaced water splashed all over the tile floor as his strong hands felt me up under the water. Laughing, we fumbled with his clinging wet clothes, which sent even more water splashing over the side of the tub, but where there's a will, there's a way. Before long he was on his knees above me and I got to see...well, let's just say it was as perfect as the rest of him. I bit my lip, wrapped my legs around his adorable butt and tugged.

"Which way to da beach," he said in an awful Arnold voice, flexing his arm muscles with a stupid look on his face.

"Nice. Now get down here," I urged, tugging harder with my legs.

"Wait, I'm not done," he said. "I'm Hans and I'm here to pahmp...yoo up."

"You better pump me up...and soon."

"Is that a threat?" he said, sliding back down over me slowly. I groaned as I felt his cock press against my stomach.

"Yes, it's a threat. I'm going to hurt you if you don't do it soon."

"Ouch! That's not very nice. Nice girls say please," he whispered.

"Please," I gasped.

"Nice girls say please louder," he said, pressing the head of his cock against my opening.

"Pleeeeeease," I whimpered, arching my back and thrusting my hips to try to force him inside of me.

"Nice girls get what they ask for," he grunted right into my ear, and finally, I felt inch after inch of rock-solid manhood satisfy my swollen, wet flesh. I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. The first few thrusts felt so good and made me so weak I could do nothing but clutch helplessly onto him, my mouth forming a soundless O.

When I got my bearings I was amazed at how wild and electric I felt. The entire world went black--my problems, Abernathy, Liza, the room outside the bathroom door. All I could see, feel, hear, or think about was this glorious man whose strong face twisted in pleasure and breathed "You feel incredible...Oh god, you feel so good!" to me. ME!

It didn't take long before Brooks's loud, guttural noises of passion gave way to sighing, soft sounds of release. I clung to him and felt him shoot strong and hard, deep within me. In that moment my lust gave way to another sensation...something sweeter, more meaningful.

Good god, Sara, get a grip. You are not falling for this man.

Brooks grinned above me, his face red and sleepy-looking, as men are wont to look after sex. "Whew!" he laughed.

"That was...something else," I replied, forcing myself to play the part of the fling who was going to leave soon to wander the streets again. After all, that's what I was.

Brooks helped me out of the water, the perma-grin still on his face. If nothing else, at least I knew I'd made him happy. He ignored his own dripping body and wrapped me in the cloud of a towel, dipping down periodically to give me a gentle kiss. I felt a lump in my throat. He could at least be a jerk since I was never going to see him again.

When I was mostly dry, I took the towel and returned the favor. Brooks looked surprised as I tenderly wiped him off. I committed every inch of that fabulous body to my memory--chances were I would never encounter another one like it in my life.

"Sara," he said. "Is that really your name?"

I nodded.

"Sara...you were amazing, but...."

But you have to leave through the window, I thought to myself.

"But I don't think you...you know. Did you?" he said hopefully.

"It has nothing to do with your...you know. Uh, I just don't come that way," I said.

"I see. You're more of a 'clitoral stimulation' girl."

"I guess you could say that," I said with a giggle.

"Maybe you could let me help with that." His voice dipped into that deep, husky tone that in a million years, I could not imagine myself being able to resist.

He picked me up and carried me out of the bathroom and into the dark bedroom. The rain had finally subsided, and bright moonlight flooded the room through tall, floor-to-ceiling windows right behind a king-sized canopy bed.

He wasted no time but immediately covered my pussy with his mouth. Another layer of warmth excited my body, still flush with the warmth of the bath water and the glow of sex.

His movements were skilled, deliberate. This was a man who had perfected the art of pleasuring a woman with his mouth. For a moment I wondered about the other women who had been lucky enough to receive his tongue. Sara? Were there others? How many?

It was no use being jealous. All the other women had taught him, shaped him, molded him into the amazing machine he was today. I was grateful for them as I spread my legs further, twisted all over that bed, panted, purred, squealed and finally gave in to the single most glorious orgasm of my life.

"Brooks--oh my god--oh god, oh yes! So deep, go deeper...oh god it's so good...so good...!"

Brooks knew just how to ride my orgasm, to pull away and come back with just the right amount of tongue-flickering to extend my pleasure longer than I thought was possible. When it finally subsided I was spent. I didn't think I'd ever be able to raise my head off that bed again, much less walk out of that room. Diana was just going to have to get used to a naked woman in her bed.

Brooks slid up next to me and propped his head up on his elbow. "You like?" he said, that maddening grin all over his face again.

"Un-freaking-believable," was all I could say.

He grinned even wider. "I like you," he said demurely, running his fingers down a wet tendril of my hair.

"I like you too," I replied, hoping I didn't sound too eager.

He sighed. "I suppose I should let you get dressed for dinner."

He was letting me stay for dinner. I couldn't believe it. He snuck out of the room to go get dressed in his own room. With shaking hands, I managed to get myself into Diana's clothes and make my hair look presentable.

Timidly, I emerged from the room and tiptoed down the hall. The wide expanse of the foyer opened before me and at the bottom of the stairs was Brooks, one foot up on the first step, leaning against the railing, grinning and whistling and looking absolutely perfect.

"She's a vision, ain't she, Abernathy?" Brooks said to the butler, who nodded and gave a cheeky little smile. No use pretending--I was sure he knew what had just happened.

Just then the doorbell rang. Brooks jumped up and spun around. I froze on the steps. Abernathy did his duty and opened the door.

There stood a curvy blonde woman in a tightly-tailored, bright yellow suitcoat and matching skirt, carrying a bag with a tiny dog's head sticking out of the top.

"Helloooo!" she gushed. "You must be Abernathy. Brooks has told me so much about you. Brooksie, darling!"

She started to run into the foyer and was met by Brooks, who rushed over to her. Here it came, I thought miserably. The kiss, the "I love yous," the "I have no idea who this woman is, throw her out, Abernathy."

"I have no idea who this woman is. Throw her out, Abernathy," Brooks said.

I looked down and walked down the stairs, accepting my fate.

"What are you doing? What is this all about?" the other Sara said shrilly. I looked up to see a smug-looking Abernathy shooing her back out the door. Her little dog yipped in protest.

"Wait a minute." Brooks stopped Abernathy just before the door shut.

"The ring," he said, holding out his hand to Sara.

Sara's face scrunched up in anger and indignity. She yanked it off her finger and slammed it into his palm.

"Bastard!"

The end of the word was cut off by the door slamming shut. Abernathy resumed his stoic stance next to the door, but he could not wipe the smile off his face.

"What was that?" said Liza, emerging from another part of the house.

"A mistake," Brooks said. "Is that dinner? It smells wonderful!"

"It is! Come and eat, everyone! You too, Abernathy. Why we even try to be formal around here, I'll never know."

Feeling as new and beautiful as the sunrise, I flew down the rest of the stairs and was caught by Brooks's embrace. He slid the ring onto my finger and whispered, "Just for show for now...but maybe soon...." and offered me his arm to escort me into the dining room.