Anika An African Goddess

I like long slow build-ups -- this story is no exception. If you want to go straight to the action, head for Week 5. Comments and criticisms are always welcome. Please let me know what you think -- and thanks for reading.

*

I was rather surprised to receive the voice mail. I had not heard from Aaron in over two years.

"Marcus. Aaron here. It's been awhile. Listen, I've got a project for you. I don't know if you heard that Carol and I got divorced over a year ago. You may have seen something in the gossip columns. Hey, it just didn't work out. But I've moved on and remarried -- lovely girl named Anika -- stole her off the runway. Anyway, we've bought a top floor condo in a new high-rise in West Chelsea -- a vanilla box -- has great views, but needs tons of work. I'm traveling a lot right now and we need to get this thing going and get out of our loft in Tribeca. I figured it would be a good project for Anika. Can you take it on? I took the liberty of setting up an appointment for you to take a look with the realtor and Anika next Thursday. Hope you can make it. Call me and I'll give you a few more details. Thanks."

Aaron is the manager of a high flying international hedge fund and travels the world. I had, in fact, read about his well publicized divorce, but was certainly unaware that he'd found a new bride.

As an interior designer specializing in the high end residential market in New York, I'm pretty inured to the ups and downs of married life among the rich and famous. In fact my network and contacts are constantly expanding as marriages falter and the parties move on to new relationships.

I had designed a major renovation for Aaron and Carol, his second and last wife, several years back. He had been a great client and wasn't afraid to spend the money necessary to do the job right.

I gave him a call back and he filled me in on his last year. The divorce had been nasty, but he was able to give Carol a sizable settlement and still not affect his lifestyle in any significant way. His fund was doing great, but its international focus was taking him on the road constantly. His new bride had a fashion and modeling background and he knew a project like this would keep her mind off his absence and give her something to sink her teeth into.

"Let her enjoy the process," he told me. "And just send me the bills."

So I agreed to take on the project and to meet Anika on site the following Thursday. I had no idea this would be unlike any project I had ever gotten involved with.

WEEK 1

Thursday came and I arrived on schedule at an address in the West 20s to find a newly constructed condo building sitting very close to the Hudson River. It was in an up-and-coming section of Manhattan that was home to quite a few new buildings catering to the crowd looking for the next hot neighborhood. I was to meet Anika and the realtor in the lobby. I had worked with the realtor, Sally, before and knew she'd have all the details. As I entered the lobby I saw Sally standing with a tall, statuesque black woman. Aaron had left out that particular detail, but I could certainly see why he'd been taken with her. She was a stunning beauty and had a regal bearing. I sauntered up to the two, said hello to Sally and introduced myself to Anika.

"Anika, I presume. I'm Marcus. Very pleased to meet you."

She smiled demurely and held out her hand, gripping mine with a firm warm handshake. "Hi Marcus. Aaron has told me so much about you. I'm very pleased we'll be working together."

She was dressed in very expensive designer clothes. She had a long, lean athletic body, but I could see she had a very ample bust and an exquisite rear end. It was her beautiful face, however, that really drew my attention: big eyes, full lips, delectable chocolate skin, and perfect bone structure. She was gorgeous.

Sally filled me in on the apartment as we rode the elevator. I could feel Anika's eyes on me as we ascended to the top floor. The doors opened, I let the women off before me and watched Anika's beautiful ass sway as she stepped into her future home. I took a look around and knew this was going to be a fun project. The views to the south and west were exceptional. As I surveyed the loft type space I again felt Anika checking me out. I didn't mind.

I'm well into my forties, but I take care of myself and feel quite comfortable in my skin. I've been divorced for five years and when I'm not working, I'm working out, taking my stress out at the gym. At the moment I felt in control and I listened intently as Sally laid out the parameters for the building.

As we walked through the empty space I kept stealing glances at Anika. I didn't want her to see me watching her, as I'd noticed her watching me, but I couldn't keep my eyes off her. Her skin was a rich dark brown and looked like it would be smooth and silky to the touch. Her long black hair cascaded well over her shoulders in long rivulets of tight wavy curls. Her eyes were large and the whites of her eyes contrasted vividly with her dark chocolate skin. When she smiled her glossy white teeth glistened against her full wet lips. Aaron had certainly done quite well for himself. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to kiss her.

At one point I was looking at her as she stood in profile taking in the view across the Hudson. She turned her head suddenly and looked straight at me. She'd caught me looking, she knew it, and she smiled at me in a very subtle way and then looked back away so I could continue my admiring gaze.

As we surveyed the large open space I began to ask Anika questions about what she and Aaron were looking for in their new home. She spoke eloquently and with just a hint of an accent I couldn't quite place. She was quick, smart and knew what she wanted. She asked about how the process would work and I outlined the steps we'd take to a complete project.

"Once we've got good existing floor plans we'll need to establish a program and then we can begin to do some serious design work. I like to meet once a week to keep these kinds of projects on course."

Anika smiled and said she could certainly work out some sort of weekly meeting time and she'd like to get the process started as soon as possible. We set an appointment for the following Thursday at her loft in Tribeca so we could discuss program and look at some of the existing conditions in their present space.

I usually assign these kinds of projects to one of my associates once I get them going. But I felt like this was one project I might keep all to myself. There was something interesting brewing. We bade our goodbyes and I left the two women to talk as I headed back to the office. I was already looking forward to next Thursday.

WEEK 2

I didn't have much to do to prep for our next meeting, so the week slipped by -- early May does that -- and suddenly I found myself in a cab that next Thursday being whisked down toward lower Manhattan to survey the retreat where Aaron had taken refuge with his lovely new wife. We pulled up to a 6 story cast iron building in a very chic street in Tribeca. I tipped the cabbie generously, grabbed my briefcase, and headed up the steps to the front door of their loft building.

I pressed the button for 6B and Anika's sweet voice came over the intercom. She buzzed me in and I took the elevator up to the sixth floor. I approached, knocked gently on the door and it slowly opened. Anika's smiling face appeared from behind the door and I returned her smile and greeting as I entered her space. We shook hands politely, but I could feel the heat of her skin as she clasped my hand.

She looked even better than I remembered and had dressed much more casually than our last meeting. Her hair was pinned up on top of her head, exposing her long, gracious neck and delicate facial features. She wore skintight jeans, a thin light green cashmere sweater and heels. She looked to be around 5'-7", but the heels brought her within inches of my six foot frame. The cashmere lay smoothly on the swell of her very full breasts.

She welcomed me in and led me toward the kitchen area. The loft was a big wide open space with high ceilings and tall double hung windows that looked out onto the Tribeca cityscape. We circled the large granite island in the kitchen and she offered me some tea, which I accepted. I looked around the loft and made mental notes. My eyes kept drifting back to Anika as I took in her womanly shape.

The jeans flared from her tiny waist, caressed her round ass and hugged her cheeks tightly. They also puckered snugly into the crease between her legs, accentuating the round fleshy folds of her mound. They were very tight and left very little to the imagination. I tried very hard to ignore her and look elsewhere.

The purpose of our meeting today was to discuss the program and lay out their desires for the new space. Anika spoke intelligently and with a sweet tenor to her voice. She was certainly educated and very focused. We reviewed their needs and wants and then toured the existing loft to look at existing furniture and rugs they might want to incorporate into the renovation.

When we got to the master bathroom Anika pointed out the huge whirlpool tub. It was six feet long, at least four feet wide and had mirrors on three sides and lots of nooks and shelves with candles. A skylight above bathed the area with natural light.

"Looks like you've got every angle covered in this tub," I stated carefully.

"I love to soak in this tub -- the mirrors, the candles -- it's the best," Anika replied. I imagined her lounging in a bubble bath and had to catch myself from drifting off into fantasy land.

We spent the next hour talking about the project and I took copious notes. I was doing my best to maintain my professional demeanor, but Anika was slowly having an effect on me. I vowed to treat her like any other client and I played it straight for the remainder of our meeting. We confirmed plans to meet in a week when I would have some rough sketches for her to review. We parted ways and I looked forward to diving into the design.

WEEK 3

I spent the next few days sketching ideas for Aaron and Anika's apartment. While I followed the process I'd used countless times before, I couldn't help but fantasize about Anika and how she would use these spaces. I drew the large tub surround she had requested and daydreamed about her bathing her exquisite body in the hot swirling water -- watching herself in the mirrors. I was having a hard time maintaining perspective. But I was certainly looking forward to seeing her and sharing my ideas.

I loaded up my presentation on Thursday morning and taxied downtown. Anika buzzed me up and I felt the anticipation build as I headed up the elevator. She opened the door with a huge smile on her face and a warm handshake. She was dressed in a pair of black tights, her usual high heels and a tight, low-cut top that hugged her breasts and clearly displayed her impressive cleavage. She had to be a full C cup and the thin straps of her bra paralleled the straps of her top. I could just detect the tips of her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her top. She looked very casual, but very sexy, and seemed to enjoy showing off her wonderful attributes.

We perched on stools at the kitchen island and I pulled out my sketches. I began to describe the floor plans and Anika tucked in rather close to me so she could see the drawings. I could smell her perfume and had a hard time concentrating on what I was trying to say. I wanted to reach out and take her in my arms -- ravage her right there on the counter. But I didn't. I maintained my cool, such as it was. She was quite adept at reading plans and made a number of good criticisms and comments. I pulled out my roll of trace and a pen and began to sketch some of her ideas.

"I love to watch you draw, Marcus. It's so much fun."

I sketched fluidly and my pen skimmed over the trace as I interpreted her comments into a new solution. We pushed and pulled the plan, revising and evolving the design to meet their needs.

At one point her cell phone rang and she took the call. She stood in the kitchen absorbed in her conversation. I pretended to be thinking and drawing. But I was secretly admiring Anika's body. It was slender, but curvy. Her ass was full and round and flared seductively from her slender waist. The tights she was wearing came down to mid-calf and left less to the imagination than the jeans she had worn the previous week. She couldn't possibly be wearing anything underneath them. Her breasts pushed forth proudly from her torso and were perfectly shaped.

Her voice made me melt and she moved with a grace of someone secure in her appearance. Her dark skin looked soft and luxuriant in the morning light and I wanted to reach out and stroke her. While I did my best to be subtle in my glances, she knew I was checking her out and she moved and twisted and turned to show off her body from every angle. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

She hung up the phone, looked at me and grinned knowingly. I smiled back meekly, knowing how transparent my thoughts were. She bent over the counter as we talked and it took every ounce of fortitude to look her in the eye as we talked and not stare at her delicious cleavage. Her eyes never left mine and I felt like she was daring me to look. I resisted.

We discussed next steps and I thought it might be a good idea to hit some showrooms for our next meeting to test out some of our ideas and begin to think about finishes and furniture. I agreed to swing by at ten next Thursday and take her on a whirlwind tour of some of New York's most exciting showrooms. Anika was thrilled at the idea and we parted with thank yous and cordial good byes. The following week couldn't come too soon as far as I was concerned.

WEEK 4

Aaron was home that weekend and gave me a call on Sunday night to check in.

"Marcus. The design looks great. Thanks so much. Anika is having a great time. This project has really got her going. I couldn't keep up with her this weekend."

"Thanks, Aaron. Well, I'm enjoying it too and Anika has a great eye, so the end product is going to something special. Would you like to get together so I can go over it with you?" I asked.

"No need, Marcus. I'm leaving again on Tuesday. Anyway, I trust you. And Anika is all over it, so if she's happy, I'm happy. Keep up the good work." He hung up and I suddenly felt very guilty for the thoughts I'd been having about his wife. I would keep this thing on the up and up from here on out.

On Thursday I took a cab down to pick up Anika and we headed over to the Design Center. She looked stunning in a long tight skirt that accentuated her fabulous ass and a small top that hugged her breasts and barely exposed her smooth flat tummy. Her hair was down and she smelled and looked divine. She seemed so adept at walking in heels and they accentuated the line and curve of her body.

It was interesting to watch other people as we strolled through the Design Center. Everyone looked at her (I didn't notice anyone checking me out) and some people, women as well as men, just flat out stared. I mentioned this phenomenon to her and she smiled.

"I don't even notice it anymore. I guess when you come from a fashion and modeling background, you're so used to people looking at you that it doesn't seem out of the ordinary," she said matter-of-factly.

We hit every floor and looked at tile, furniture, kitchen cabinets, carpeting, plumbing fixtures, the works. It was a full morning and we needed a break. We had a few showrooms to hit in Manhattan so I hailed a taxi and had the cabbie drop us in midtown at a little bistro I like for lunch. It was here over a light meal and a bottle of wine that we started to get to know one another beyond the project focus that had characterized our interactions to date.

I found out she had grown up in the Ivory Coast, spent her high school years in Paris and then had attended college in North Carolina. Her fascinating accent seemed a blend of all these places. She had moved to New York to do some modeling and had parlayed that into a position with one of the national fashion magazines. She had met Aaron at a charity function sponsored by her magazine and he had zeroed right in on her. While she still did some consulting work here and there, her marriage to a wealthy man was clearly bringing on a new stage of life for her where working could become a matter of choice rather than necessity. Their whirlwind romance had ended up in a third marriage for him and her first.

"How is life with Aaron?" I queried.

"Oh, it's wonderful in many ways -- the money, the travel, getting to do projects like this one. But he travels an awful lot, so I'm finding I spend a lot of time alone. He was home this weekend and I tried to make up for lost time. But he was tired and jet-lagged and just wanted to vege. I guess I'm getting used to the travel thing and I do get to travel with him some. But thank God for my vibrator."

She seemed immediately embarrassed by her admission -- a little wine talking I guess. So she immediately switched subjects.

"What about you?" she asked.

I gave her the five minute synopsis of my career, marriage and divorce. I had grown up in Westchester, attended school in the city, worked my way up through the ranks of several high profile firms and married the daughter of a well-known and high-powered lawyer. It was with her help that I had started my own firm, but the time pressures of starting a new and very demanding business didn't sync up very well with the demands of a marriage. I had gone through an amicable divorce five years earlier and had played the field since then.

"You must have a girlfriend, or girlfriends?" Anika asked.

"Well, my business just doesn't leave much time for complicated relationships. I have a few women I see socially, but nothing with any serious strings attached."

"I can't believe with all the single women in New York that someone hasn't snagged a talented guy like you."

"That's very nice of you to say. I just haven't met the right lady. Guess I'm not as lucky as Aaron," I said. She smiled appreciatively.

We continued to talk about our personal lives and I got the impression she was starved for some intimate conversation. I kept staring into her beautiful face and listening to her lyrical voice. Her full, soft lips glistened with lipstick and were driving me crazy. I kept imagining what it would look like to have my cock slipping in and out of her mouth while she looked at me with her big, brown eyes. I tried to keep my thoughts in line, but I couldn't sit so close to Anika without thinking about sex.

We finished lunch, hit a few more showrooms and headed south in a cab to drop her off at her loft. I pulled out a couple of brochures in the backseat of the cab to discuss some selections with her. She snuggled up close and I had a hard time concentrating. Her thigh pressed up against mine and I felt her full bosom mash against my arm. Her smell was intoxicating. We finally pulled up in front of her building.

"Do you want to come up?" she asked quizzically? She arched her brow and leaned in for an answer.

"I really need to get into the office for an hour or two," I replied. "I'll see you next Thursday."

She leaned in and gave me a very soft kiss on the lips. It was barely a peck, but the signal it was sending was loud and clear. Her lips were soft and pliant and I got an immediate hard-on.

"Thursday, then," she said softly.

She strode off toward the lobby. I watched her hips sway and her ass wiggle as she walked away and I realized that our next meeting would be a crossroads.

WEEK 5

The next week went by at a snail's pace. I felt like a high school kid looking forward to the big Friday night date. I hadn't been smitten like this in a long time. I worked on the plans and details all week and had a great presentation to show her. I arrived right on time, a tube of drawings under my arm, and I waited for her to let me in. She opened the door and gave me that big beautiful smile of hers. I could hear smooth jazz wafting through the air coming from hidden speakers.