so we can go together — but maybe I’ll just go along, I don’t know, haven’t… decided. Anyway, that’s mainly it. Sound good?”
“I thought your assistant was going to fill me in.”
“Did I say that? Well, I thought I’d fill you in myself, give my assistant a break.” Julia pushed back even harder now. She didn’t know whom exactly she was keeping out but she didn’t want to take the risk all the same. “So… yes. Do you have any questions?”
“None whatsoever. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Great, great…well, I won’t keep you.”
“You’re welcome here anytime.”
“Well, I am the boss.” Julia chortled through the uncomfortable silence. Then it was a flash of a smile and out the door. Carmine grinned. Since this invitation was sprung upon him, Julia was much less hands-on. There were several issues about which she could’ve nitpicked but her mind seemed to be on other things. Carmine relaxed as it was beginning to come clearer: This couldn’t simply be a work-related invite. If she wasn’t definitely attracted to him, she was at least considering the possibility that an attraction could gestate at any time.
In fact, Carmine liked seeing his superior so flustered in his presence. The domineering force of nature was displaying her weakness, and he appeared to be that very weakness. As he dwelled on this thought, an erection sprouted up slowly in his pants. He had enough class to place this in his backup energy storage unit within his mind, but that didn’t stop him from indulging in a cheeky stroke of the tip of his rod.
Meanwhile, Julia sat back in the limousine, her legs crossed and her arms folded.
“Is something troubling you?” Jarvis inquired.
“I have a lot of doubts,” Julia replied. “This could be incredible, or it could be a disaster. This could jeopardize the shop or it could be nothing at all. I wonder if I’m analyzing it too much. I probably am, aren’t I?”
“Best to let the spirit of the evening sweep you along.”
“And you’d know about that?” She raised her eyebrows.
“I’ve had my moments,” he grinned.
“Thank you, Jarvis.”
The window rose up and clipped itself to the top. Julia was now invisible to her driver. It suddenly dawned on her that her favorite element of limousine access was the tinted windows. It had been a stressful trip to the coffee shop. What Julia needed more than anything was a stroke of the snatch. She pictured Carmine inside the limo, his thick piece tunneling in and out of her while he bent her over. She held onto the image and rubbed herself vigorously. She was soaked and sore by the time Jarvis returned her to her chambers. As usual, he pretended that he hadn’t heard a solitary peep through the transparent, curtain-like window.
***
CLAIRE wandered into the Museum of Modern Art on a mere whim. She couldn’t help but feel overdressed in her black strapless dress but the stares from admiring, anonymous men made up for the possible faux pas. It had been some time since Claire had taken in a trip to a museum. She flirted with art history in her college days and all men who existed within any kind of artistic field drove her just a little wild.
She didn’t know what to expect as she hadn’t bothered to check the exhibits in advance. When she wandered in front of a mammoth Jackson Pollock, she almost collapsed with the weight and soul of the work. Claire attempted to take in every inch of the canvas. As she contemplated Pollock agonizing over every splatter, she felt her tears water.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
Claire turned to the gentleman sitting next to her. He must have been fresh out of college, his deep green eyes piercing through his plastic rims. A sports jacket over an obscure punk t-shirt suggested he was from Brooklyn, as did his finely-groomed beard.
“I’m sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting. I’m Paul.”
“Oh no, not at all. Claire, it’s a pleasure.” They shook hands. Claire felt Paul’s callous fingertips and observed the sketchbook sitting on top of his jeans.
“You’re not trying to sketch that, are you?”
“God, no!” Paul laughed. “No, I just bring this around for inspiration.” He grabbed her hand once again. “Oh good, I thought I got your hands a little dirty for a second. You have beautiful hands — I hope that wasn’t too forward of me, I apologize.”
Claire blushed. “How old are you if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Twenty-four.”
“You’re quite the charmer for a young man.”
“No, seriously, you’d make a excellent hand model. I’ll have to sketch them some time. But yeah, look at that painting. You can practically see Pollock pouring himself into it. If I can ever create something half as powerful as this, I can die happy.”
Claire listened to Paul carefully. She thought about her day and how dull the tourist-eye view of New York was becoming. She slid over to Paul by half an inch.
“Busy day?” She licked her lips.
***
PAUL dragged Claire into the cramped apartment right in the center of Williamsburg. The bedroom was straight through. The two had been fondling and nuzzling each other for the entirety of the cab ride. They made sure to tip the poor driver heavily over the inconvenience. Their tongues were still passionately dancing when he threw her down onto the unmade bed. Paul’s mind raced several laps. He had brought a woman so beautiful that she looked as though she stepped out of the ads in the latest edition of Vogue magazine.
Claire’s mind was bursting at the thought of what this rugged, carefree artist was capable of doing to her. They tossed their clothes in one direction after another. She lept on top of him and slipped his throbbing member into her mouth. Paul, on his knees, petted her breasts softly and tried to contain himself when he felt himself all the way down into the deepest recesses of her throat. One hand continued to work the breasts while the other inserted three fingers up her cave and stroked hard. Claire groaned through the job.
Paul threw her back onto the mattress and stuck himself inside. The first thrust was gradual and tempered, as was the second one. Suddenly, he was pounding into Claire like a power drill. She had forgotten the stamina of the average, reckless young male. Her fingernails stabbed into his back with enough force to split into the skin. Paul jolted momentarily and stopped.
An uncomfortable fear lodged itself into the pit of her stomach — the fear that the explosive sex was over all too soon. Paul felt the tiny drop of blood inch down his back. He looked into her eyes and winked. In a flash, he was doing it to her even harder. Her legs tangled themselves around his waist. He sat up and pulled Claire towards him. She now sat in his lap while he grabbed her pelvis and rocked her body back and forth. Claire threw back her hair and howled like a banshee.
Paul set one hand free and swiftly flew it over to her red, throbbing opening. He began to rub as he shook. All of Claire’s muscles tensed up and a spurting of her fluids rocketed down his manhood. He had never seen anything like it before, and it was enough for him to fall backward and allow himself to release his own fluids into her. Claire plummeted on Paul’s chest. They gasped for breath and were dripping in sweat.
“So,” Claire smiled. “How’s that for inspiration?”
“Claire, I don’t typically do nudes… but after today I just might have to start.”
She giggled before kissing him tenderly. As the soft breeze seeped into the windows, Paul and Claire held each other closer. They drifted away into a New York post-coital nap.
Memories — Treacherous Love
by Nellie Cross
When you have the life I’ve had, you become a little battle hardened. Love doesn’t come very easily to me.
