I finished my dinner at
La Mer
confident that I was going home to experience some of the world's most mind altering, world bending sex. I could guarantee it—especially with my little coin. Unfortunately life had other plans. Halfway through our dessert, a lovely raspberry white chocolate mousse, Amy received a page from the hospital. One of the staff surgeons had come down with the flu and Amy had been called in to cover his shift.
"Sorry babe." She gave me a quick peck on the cheek as she hurriedly picked up her purse and put down money for the check. "No, don't get up, finish your dessert. I promise I'll make it up to you, especially now that I can do that thing you like." She winked mischievously and quickly sashayed towards the exit, tapping her swaying ass as she walked out the door.
I scooped the last teaspoon of mousse into my mouth and waved over the blond waitress. I was pleasantly surprised to notice that her originally graceful walk was now somewhat unsteady. I gave her the money Amy had left along with a generous tip from me—she had, after all, given excellent service. Done with dinner and with my evening plans postponed I decided to go for a walk.
La Mer
was located in one of the wealthier districts of the city and the nearby streets were filled with designer clothing shops, high end boutiques, and gourmet bakeries. An excellent place to window shop, but a little out of my current price range.
Though
, I supposed,
I could probably use The Coin to get anything that I want
. Looking in various windows, gazing at the height of the fall fashion from pointy leather shoes to elegant evening gowns I found myself overwhelmed with possibilities. The power to have anything seemed to deprive everything of meaning. I decided to restrict my use of the coin, for now, to my more base desires. Just as I was about to turn away from
Marie's—
a designer clothing shop—I noticed a familiar figure inside trying on an evening dress.
Jenny McGuire had always been a bitch. During high school she had had everything—money, looks, the best clothing, intelligence, and oh could she be charming when it suited her. Unfortunately, being raised as daddy's little girl had given her the misguided notion that she was in fact the center of the universe. The fact that everyone—men and women alike—waited on her hand and foot did little to dissuade that notion. In the supply and demand market that is high school she had what everyone demanded—the perfect body for a girlfriend, the intelligence of a perfect student, the personality to entertain friends, and distant enough parents to host parities. She was constantly in demand so she could be a bitch to whoever she wanted. The matriarch of her own private religion—Jenism. The tenants were simple: serve and be rewarded, present a challenge and be excommunicated. Luckily, I had never tread in her circles, I was just attractive and intelligent enough to coast through high school in the "outsider" circles like drama club, chorus, and tennis without having to forgo access to the Tier B parties. Unfortunately, my best friend, Alice, hadn't been so lucky. She'd made the mistake of asking out a girl in Jen's inner circle. Jen didn't like that—the thought of one of her friends being gay. The social backlash Alice felt had been so devastating, so isolating that she had spent every day for a week crying at my house. She got it over, but I never did. Payback, as Jen would find out, could be as much of a bitch as she could.
The bell to
Marie's
chimed softly as I opened the door and descended the steps into the show room. The room smelled faintly of a mixture of cotton, vanilla, strawberries, and coffee. I noticed a silver coffee pot in the corner of the room and I poured myself a cup. A young woman nodded from behind the counter and asked in a relaxed, yet haughty voice,
"What can I do for you darling?" Jenny was over with another seamstress. Judging by her age, she was the Marie behind
Marie's
and the young lady managing the front desk was her assistant. I sent a thought through The Coin directed at Marie,
You need to leave the room. Find any excuse to go check on something elsewhere, bring your assistant with you.
"Kaley, I think we're out of lace trim in that shade." She motioned to the hem of Jenny's dress. "Let's go to the back room and find some." A look of confusion crossed Jenny's face and she looked as though she may protest, but Marie and Kayley disappeared before she had a chance to complain. Resigned to wait she took to examining herself in the mirror. Twisting her body to examine the profile of her bust and ass. She puckered her lips and gave a slight kiss to the mirror and finished by doing a small twirl, causing the hem of the dress to flare, rising two-thirds of the way up her thigh.
"Ahem." I cleared my throat rather loudly. Jenny looked slightly startled, I doubt she had taken notice that someone else had entered the room—that would've distracted her attention from admiring herself. "You wouldn't be Jenny McGuire would you?" I asked casually.
"Do I know you?" She replied curtly.
"I think we went to high school together. Class of '06? I think we had American History together." I tried to make it sound as innocuous as possible.
"Maybe." She didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation.
"My name is Ryan Sanders. It's good to see you again." I walked over and offered her my hand.
She scoffed slightly and looked away. "Listen...Ryan. I'm just trying to get a dress. Let's just leave it at that ok? I've got a husband and I'm certain he wouldn't like some dumbass like you talking to me. So let's play the silent game, hmm?"
Well, she hasn't changed.
I mused.
Good.
I rubbed The Coin between my thumb and index finger and I sent a single thought through it:
It is your most burning desire to sleep with me.
Jenny put her hand to her head for a moment and swayed slightly as if she was dizzy. Eventually she regained her balance and her demeanor shifted. Gone was the cold exterior, in its place was a white hot smoldering gaze.
She used every part of her body to accomplish the physical realization of lust. She pulled her wavy brown hair up from her shoulders and in one fluid motion she flipped it into a pony tail. The move revealed her sloping shoulders and the plunging neckline of her dress that revealed an ample amount of her D-cup breasts. She licked her lips slowly and deliberately—a light pink tongue tracing around the cherry red lipstick she wore. Her blue-green eyes had dilated and she locked those gorgeous big eyes on mine. She swayed over to me, her hips providing a preview, an insight, into the way she liked to ride cock. Her smell hit me first Chanel Christalle mixed with the musty scent of a wet cunt. She stopped a foot or two from me and spoke with a husky voice.
"I'm sorry for being rude. I guess I've just been having a stressful day. I need to relax...You wouldn't happen to know of a way I could
get off...
all of this stress, do you?" She reached a hand around my neck as she spoke, stroking me like a favored dog.
"What about your husband?" I asked curiously.
"He's a limp dick little fucker. A terrible lay. You though, you look like a great lay. What do you say you take me out of here and let me show you just how
sorry
I am?" Her left hand moved to cup my cock. Her touch sent a jolt through my body.
"Let's take your car. You'll have to give me directions to your place." I began moving towards the exit, but the hand on my neck pulled me back.
"No babe. We can go to your place, not mine. My husband is jealous, if he even suspects I'm fucking another guy he'd kill me." That smoldering look was still there but underneath it was a layer of rock hard stubbornness. A look that said "I'm going to fuck you, but where
I
want."