This is the second in a series of stories making up a novella. To fully get the message, do yourself a favor and read Ch. 01. As always, please vote and send constructive feedback. Your helpful comments are much appreciated.
Time: Five or More Years Ago
I'd worked at bank headquarters for several months and one of my employees, Sherri, and I were well into a steamy affair. Given my addiction to sex I'd previously kept it in the closet and avoided physical contact with workers, yet this one was different. She was a certifiable fuck freak.
Tall, golden blonde and athletic, the 30-year-old divorcee was as devoted to the sexual arts as was I. She was also a risk-taker, meaning that she'd tease me into a tryst wherever we might be…at work, out at night in a restaurant parking lot, or in the thousand places one can find in a mall during a weekend shopping spree. My obsession with her eventually ended my relationship with Elaine, the bisexual woman with whom I was living, who moved out after being with me for five years. This opened my after-work life up to an abundance of new female candidates and – Sherri notwithstanding – it was as if a dam had burst there were so many women. My hobby was producing plays, and I used my own acting ability to charm them all, with the goal of nailing as many as I could.
On the first weekend after Elaine's departure, I invited a scrumptious, 20-year-old, raven-haired actress of Hispanic descent – Carlita – over for an evening. She was a very young-looking student in the Drama Department at the local community college that had produced a couple of Hollywood starlets. She played young ingénues in the college's productions, and had flirted shamelessly with me at a party a few weeks before, hoping that I'd cast her in a production in my community theatre company. Just as shamelessly, I plied her with wine during dinner and afterward on this night while we read a few scenes from a comedy I would soon produce.
For a 20-year-old Carlita had the cunning perspective of an experienced woman twice her age. Born of Chilean parents, she possessed the womanly wiles of the archetypal south-of-the-border Latina yet her body bore all the healthy features of North American upbringing, including vitamins and exercise. Her skin was pale, and contrasted beautifully with her flashing brown eyes and thick black hair that grew to the middle of her back. Her face was oval, like that of a painter's model, and her mouth was wide, able to light the darkest room with a smile. The rosy color of her bow-like lips captivated me – negating the need for lipstick – as if she were on a steady diet of raspberries.
But the most compelling thing about her was that
she looked so young
. When first meeting her I checked her driver's license and was astonished that she was twenty years old. When she arrived at my door this night I was amazed at the sexy way she was dressed. She wore a black, one-piece outfit that went over one shoulder, showing the tops of her flawless 34B breasts and half of her back. Connected with the top was a gauzy portion that covered her midriff, which in turn was connected to a pair of very brief black shorts that covered her private parts. To make the whole thing a "dress," the bottom was covered with a knee-length gauzy skirt that extended to mid-thigh. From behind, I could see through the skirt that what I'd first thought were shorts were nothing more than a disguised thong.
As we were reading a scene from the play after dinner she paused, putting her book down on the floor next to herself and asked, "Why haven't you hit on me, Shaun?"
"Beg your pardon?" being as cool as I could be, though I'd been thinking how I'd get into her pants without being too rapacious.
"You heard me. Your reputation…I see the hustle you put on other women…why haven't you given me a shot?" she asked, stretching her 34B-22-34 body like a cat.
"Maybe it's because I'm twice your age…almost," I responded. Playing hard-to-get was always part of the game.
"That's an excuse, not a
reason
," she pouted, and started to crawl across the room toward where I was seated. When she reached me, she stood up on her knees between my outspread thighs. "Is it because I'm not big enough for your taste?" she asked, nestling her breasts from underneath in her palms.
"No. Five-feet-four is tall enough for me," I said, purposely misunderstanding her. Like a cat, I wanted to tease my prey…repeatedly…before I pounced for the kill.
"Stop treating me like a child!" she scolded. "Why can't you just…".
I interrupted her. "Fuck you? Is that all you want? You think I'll cast you in a play just for a piece of ass? If I fuck you, baby, it'll be for more personal reasons than that." I stood up, towering threateningly over her as she knelt, and started toward the kitchen to get more wine. She stopped me by grabbing onto my thigh. Her restraining touch caused my cock to stir in one pant leg.
"There's no reason to get angry. When we first met, I thought we were
simpatico
. I could have been wrong," she said dejectedly, without removing her hand.
Just a little closer
, I thought to myself.
It's so much sweeter when they realize what they might have missed, when they first touch it…and feel it.