The Seduction of Jade

My adult life has never been normal or boring. I think it's safe to say that after sharing a few select escapades with you guys. Well, you know, if you've made it this far. I thank you for being that interested in anything I have to say, really.

I'm not sure why you're still curious in a dog like me or my sordid tales, but it's more comforting than I would have thought. I hesitantly started down this long, winding road of life's experiences and sharing them with you not knowing where it would go. I guess part of it is the loneliness I feel. It's especially crushing when I'm in a room full of strangers or even a bedroom with one, or more, lover(s). I still have this empty place in my heart of desires after all the festivities are over. And yet, telling my most scandalous stories to you all, almost does seems cathartic to me.

It's better than the good feelings I had started to have again after another period of time talking to Jade. There were some things that I finally told to her that needed to be said last time but weren't because of my lack of testicular fortitude. It still wasn't the most likely of relationships to last, or even romantically start really. But I had begun to believe if I just persisted with being in her life even on a peripheral orbit, things would work themselves out. I know it sounds a bit desperate. I'm not afraid of being rejected. It's the being made to think someone wants me when in reality, that might not be the case... That is the bitch to deal with mentally. But even in my hawt mess life, I would eventually find out how wrong I was. Better to be wrong though then to be a person's toy but that's a later tale.

I was fine with a rare walk in the park with her. The occasional horseplay, ending with me apologizing profusely because I slapped her ass, was a sight. Clad in yoga pants mind you, as hard as I could. Only to realize that might make getting laid by the live-in boyfriend a little difficult later on that night if a big hand shaped bruise materialized that wasn't his. Or even cutting the gym prayers to the gods of metal a little short to go get ice cream and fight over her not paying for it all the while laughing like horny teenagers. If nothing else, I thought I had at least earned the title of friend from her. But just because you go shopping at a big box warehouse together, doesn't necessarily mean the way you feel about someone else will always, or at all, be reciprocated. Board games played at the local nerd hotspot will forever be a draw in terms of wins and losses. That part is just for me, so moving on...

However, when you meet that friend's other friend(s) you want to believe you're now included into that typically small circle of cherished people. Jen was one of those people in her life. Closer to my age, she was a cool enough person, but she had her own demons to deal with just like everyone else. Meeting the two of them at the hospital because they worked together most shifts and just bullshiting about life was a nice change of pace the few times it happened. She wasn't quite my type, which made it easier to just be a flirt with no real consequences. But they were fun enough to tease or gang up on, and maybe even bring a fufu drink to. For me that was enough to be "friends".

When you start to reminisce about friends though, that's when you start down one path and usually, completely, end up on a different string of reality altogether. Case in point, I snapped back to the current timeline. It started this foray into my wasteland of a mind and repressed emotional damage. I was sitting in my studio just going over again what had happened at the horse farm with Angel.

After a few weeks went by I had some of the photos from that shoot printed out. And I have to say, they were sexy, alluring, and everything else I was hoping they would be. The problem was they were in front of me lying on the desk but Angel was missing in action. All I could do was let her handle her own affairs however she saw fit. It's by far not intentional, but I really do seem to lose the majority of the women around me shortly after a night or less of intimacy. Luckily I'm too blind to see those huge red flags flapping in a category five hurricane behind me. Ignorance is bliss after all, right?

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It was about then that I got a text from a little bird that worked at a local spot I'd stop into a few times a week to get food or something to drink, Caribbean Smoothie. Layla was the day manger and service in many ways was job number one with her. In a smoothie shop full of teenagers, early twenty somethings, and the old fart that owned the place, she was the one expected to keep the ship from crashing. I guess being in the middle of all of them, just keeping her sanity was impressive.

But for me, the most outstanding thing at least in the beginning was the fact she was usually the first, and mostly only one, to get the majority of my dated references or bad dad jokes. As time went on, we would bullshit about life until my order was ready, and I'd leave until the next time my craving for a chicken quesadilla, not cut, struck. One time though, I noticed her giving a hug to another fellow in the lobby on an obviously bad day and without really caring if it went anywhere, I said, "Well I wanna hug too then!" And her response was, "Okay."

And a hug is exactly what I got. Only thing was, I had really never noticed her body with the baggy shirt and always running around filling orders and trying to keep the shop from burning to the ground. For her shorter size, the breasts she made sure to squeeze into my attention on that embrace were quite a surprise. A short brunette, with deep brown eyes, a sassy attitude, as well as the other endowments she was blessed with made it worth a bit more to chase after her. Just to keep my game in top form mind you. A buddy of mine remarked to me after I treated him to lunch there one day, she had lips that looked like they could make a man weak. I remember telling him he needed to get laid more often.

Over a few years of getting to know each other, things progressed to the point where spicy texts got sent back and forth with photos to enhance the experience for all parties involved. Big issues in life or just bitching about every day things got bounced off of each other on a regular basis. She eventually mentioned in our talks certain frustrations that came along with the guy she was seeing. He was a great guy, but... well, he had gotten a nickname that in this case that wasn't a flattering thing. He was known as Flash between the two of us. As the name might hint at, he was fast in all the wrong ways. It was taking the joy out of her sex life and she was beginning to become a little desperate for a good old fashion, I'll be honest here, she wanted to be, "fucked until she couldn't remember her own name just once."

I, being the good friend that I am, said I could handle that request amazing well, but she needed to be sure she really craved what she was asking for. Layla responded like a champ with that little spunky ass of hers and just replied with, "Don't threaten me with a good time." Seeing as how I love a challenge, I took this to be a great step in the right direction.

This brings me back to her most recent text to me. The thing I was waiting for her to do was make up her mind if she really wanted to pull my lever and get the dicking of her still fairly young lifetime. The opportunity had finally presented itself by Flash needing to go out of town for a weekend because of a training workshop his company required him to take for whatever reason. When she first brought it up, I told her if she wasn't ready to do everything I wanted without any complaints it wasn't worth the time or effort for either of us. Her one word answer finally came across the electronic airwaves a few days later and delivered to me a good chance at a surely fantastic time. Her simple answer to me was: fine.

****[https://youtu.be/c8H8a5Bab6o?si=od0P23ztsuIITPSh]****

Now, if you remember from my description of the store's employees, the vast percentage of people working there are women of various ages. I will be the first to say I don't understand the fairer sex, even more then a little. But I have made a few observations that seem to hold true more often then not. One of them is more of a truism. All people I think possess it but a woman set on a goal can take it to extremes. And that obsession can be wanting something: a person they admire, love from a specific person, or what another individual already has. Now don't get me wrong, that could be in the form of many things but if a man is involved it seems to take on a different level of intensity. There are obsessive men, but talking about them here wouldn't help move things along, now would it? (Lightly laughing.)

Case in point, it had been a rumor for a while in the store grapevine that Layla and I were already lovers. Which was news to me but I thought it was funny that no one seemed to have a problem with it either. There had been a few instances where our flirting had been seen by the other young ladies in the store or the flowers placed on her car and the effects to my reputation were quite nice as the tale was told to me by Layla one day. At various points I had even handed out my business card to some of the other girls in case they ever wanted to do a photo shoot for any reason, age appropriate of course. Low and behold, a few months before Layla's, I received a text from a number I didn't recognize.

The message started off innocent enough. 'Hi! It's Dana from Caribbean smoothie!'

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Dana was a cute, above mentioned, twenty something that most guys of her age would be encouraged to take home to meet mom. She was thin and tall with long legs that went all the way up to her neck. She had a habit of dressing in clothes that reminded me of a 80s sitcom matriarch, kind of plain and didn't really scream look at me. I never really saw the appeal of mom jeans. Her blonde highlighted light brown hair framed her light blue eyes perfectly even hidden somewhat behind her glasses. The only visible flash to her that might indicate a wild side was the small gold hoop nose piercing. She was for the most part pretty quiet when I was in there, so when it was her out of all the potential clients to hit me up for my offer, I was a bit surprised.

To be fair, I don't always listen to my gut when it comes to women, obviously. The first time I saw Dana my instincts went off screaming she may be a bit more adventurous for certain things in life. Ever shake your head and laugh at yourself for intrusive thoughts? Yeah, that's pretty much what I did when I met her and went on with the rest of my day.

If I had been a little more locked into the possibility that the cover of a book doesn't necessarily show the contents of the story, I might have not been so thick headed about something I did for my friends. It was just something to do and be nice and the reaction I received for it was pretty comical most times. See, I had learned from an older cousin how to crack a back for someone by picking them up and basically giving them a big bear hug from behind. If done correctly, the results were both satisfying and usually loud enough for people to hear. The reason I only did it for women I knew was because there was a level of proximity that was borderline intimate. And quite honestly, being that close to another guy was not really my bag of tea.

Layla practically begged some days to have it done just to reduce some of the stress a smoothie slinger could develop over the course of an eight hour shift. So, for me, it wasn't that big of a deal. To the girls in the shop that would watch us out back of the store on the camera feed like a horrible soap opera romance, it was akin to some sort of sweet ritual. One day out of the blue as I was leaving with my lunch, someone requested the before mentioned service. Only, it wasn't Layla, but it was most certainly one little miss Dana.

I didn't really read too much into it at the time. She had talked about going to her chiropractor a few times before. I was happy to help in his stead and performed my duties perfectly to a loud and resounding crack! Remember the part I mentioned where there was a level of intimacy involved in this? Then you did better then me at that time. Because she had made sure to "feel" things out right before I picked her up. And by that I mean she backed that very firm and dancer like physique against my pelvic area like she was trying to take measurements for later evaluations. She was almost my height so the fit was quite a bit more aligned then I realized. I was totally oblivious to it to my chagrin until thinking back on it later.

After I put her back on the ground, she give me a big grin that I just chalked up to feeling good from getting her back adjusted, said thanks, and disappeared back into the shop. Apparently that was the final thing she had been waiting for to happen. In her mind that was the final puzzle piece to make up her mind if she was going to reach out to me. I was really flabbergasted when I got that opening salvo from her. I was even more surprised when the reason she was hitting me up was to be in a rather graphic and racy shoot. And she wasn't shy in the least about saying what she wanted either. I never saw this coming. I'll listen to my gut some day.

I know what I'm about to say will be completely out of character for me, but I wasn't really interested in the offer. I even told her as much. Not in a mean or degrading way, not by any means, but in what I thought was a polite but firm no thanks. I'm not a total sex crazed idiot. She just came off as a mostly innocent, Midwestern girl, and that was not what I was really into with my warped tastes. Now if she had come across as severely damaged, had daddy issues, or looked like she could teach me a few things, I would have made that mistake in impressive time I'm sure. Apparently the standard scale of more red flags meant a hotter encounter was in effect. But I began to wonder if I had misjudged her when my response didn't seem to dissuade her in the least.

If anything, in the few months following that initial text, she tried multiple times to sell her vision of a good time to me if I only I would take her up on it. It was pretty clear by the way she was chasing me, being turned down was not something she was used to after she set her sights on a new man. Sure, she had the air of a completely straight edged chick most of the times I saw her in Caribbean Smoothie, but when she was alone and comfortable, she was a tiger in sheep's clothing.

So, why go all into this back-story you may ask? Well, after Layla gave me what I had been waiting on, I had an idea to kill two birds with one stone. I thought about it a bit. In the end I came up with a way to make a night interesting enough with Dana to take her up on her offers. Or if I gave her the same conditions I gave Layla, it would scare her off and I wouldn't be in her sights anymore. Being a bit intrigued as to which way she would probably turn me down, I sent her a text. The reason I figured she'd finally back out of the previous flirtations is because someone with her personality usually didn't take to having the tables turned on her in sex, work, or life in general. It didn't take long for her response.

It was short and to the point leaving no uncertainty in the answer. 'Any time, any where, and definitely annnyy position.' That response was the furthest thing in my mind that I was going to read from a little church mouse. And yet the hunger from a barracuda was staring me in the face via her text. Have I mentioned I really don't understand women?

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So, the promised Saturday that Mr. Flash would be out of town bloomed from the darkness of the Friday that came before it. Layla had decided to be a champ and help me with some photo related things I wanted to work on before the main event. I wanted to try some different poses, light set ups, etc for the boudoir part of my growing art empire. Now let me say this up front. I'm not a paid anything by Hilton Hotels. And I'd love to go over Paris's techniques, personally, with her any moment of the day the desire would strike her. Seeing as I doubt that phone call will ever happen, the next best idea is to use a magnificent room at the Embassy Suites in downtown Indy.

Not only can I pretend Paris is waiting for me in the lobby, but I have loved this huge building since the first time I walked into the lobby. Much like any other business that offers a service as its major goods, the Embassy also has different levels of comfort when it comes to the rooms that are available. I knew one of the clerks that handles reservations there and I was able to get a king bedroom loft suite with a balcony secured for our little adventures.

It's wasn't the best room in this inn of the better sort, but our accommodation was a very close second to it. By networking my arse off, I had managed to score it for us against the odds. If I had waited much longer, it would have been used by some wedding party coming in from out of town as it was told to me by my buddy. It was a two storied suite in the corner of the hotel some twenty stories above the hustle and bustle of downtown Indianapolis. The views from the balcony at night were simply vantage points you don't normally get to experience the city from.

One large king sized bed was located in the loft style bedroom on the second floor. You could look over the edge of one of the walls directly down into the living room space if you so choose. I would not advise sexy time with guests present, well, unless it's that kind of party I suppose. It was spacious and well furnished for a great time regardless of the reason for your stay. It was a bit pricey but for my plans I was completely fine spending that much to set the mood and enjoy the festivities.

Layla was laying on top of the bed with red velvet like restraints on her wrists and ankles that matched her teddy and panties she had put on for her mini shoot. The ropes went over the corners of the bed so it was BDSM light at its worst and I'm sure it wouldn't have taken much for her to wiggle out of them honestly. The foray into my portfolio for her was freshly over with and the agreed upon time for the last guest to show up was quickly approaching.

There was a small amount of time to kill before then so I decided I'd show my appreciation to her for all the help she'd given me in setting things up and being the star for my tastes in more ways then one today.

"Derrick?"

"Yes, my tied up little angel?" I couldn't help but laugh a little as I responded to her.

"What exactly is going to happen next?" While she was very trusting of me, especially in the current situation, but still there was a bit of uncertainty in her voice. "I'm not going to hear farm animals or a guy saying, 'Now serving number 6!' am I?"

"No, no, of course not. Animals would have been a bigger deposit on the room. And as far as anything else, I will be the only man to be in line to service you." Giving her a reassuring smile, I broke out a very nice blindfold that was designed to block out sunlight and put it over her head. I verified it was on correctly and that it made her completely unable to see anything going on in the room.

The last thing that needed to be done was to finish blocking her senses, her hearing to be exact. The whole inspiration for tonight was to simply feel and lose yourself. To accomplish that, I put a pair of wireless headphones over her ears that would play a set list of music she was into so the little queen bee would be in her own little world. Well, for the start of the night anyway and then we'd have to wait and see, wouldn't we?