LUST

LUST 

Part One

My last real boss called me to an empty boardroom, sat me down, and politely said there was no longer a place for me in the company. He  told me he was sorry my division was closing, but it wasn’t reaching revenue goals. Then he sent a three page contract down the table my way and bragged about its great benefits.

I didn’t show any emotions. I had been let go enough times to know to never stock my office or cubicle or company car with personal items. That way, I could just walk away without a backwards glance. Which is what I did that day. I walked out without saying anything to anybody. The secretaries I had made laugh, the guys and gals on the plant floor I gave life advice to. None of them heard any last words. I walked out, got in my car, (I didn’t have a company car that time), and drove. 

When I arrived home I took a shower,  ate some leftover chicken, signed the severance agreement, and thought about killing myself. I didn’t call mom,  I couldn’t break her heart over another fail. And I didn’t want to hear her asking how am I going to support myself, or tell me she had some money if I needed it. I didn’t want her asking  the Lord Jesus to help me again. I needed somebody detached and impartial to talk to, and be with, to ease my pain til I figured out how I was going to die. So I went online and booked an attractive whore whose ad claimed she could give me peace of mind.

I got a call  from her within minutes of setting my reservation.  She gave a nice welcome and introduction but mostly wanted to confirm I wasn’t a cop. There were a few clever questions and light talk but she never used the words, sex or money. It was always “Our time together”, “Sure we can talk,” then “Meet me at the Marriott.” 

 I got dressed the second I clicked off the phone. Something casual that showed off my physique  because I didn’t want to be another lonely businessman. I wanted to feel strong even though I had nothing but myself.  I jumped back in my car and drew everything I had in the bank out of an ATM. Then I drove with a knotted belly and empty head to my  promised relief. 

Getting to the Marriott was supposed to be a 12 minutes ride across town, but the lights kept slowing me down and there was construction on West Street. 12 minutes dragged to 30.  I got frustrated, banged on the damn wheel and screamed. That scream was so loud it tore me apart. All my disappointments and regrets gushed out and swallowed me. I yelled because all I  wanted was one thing to go right. one fucking thing I could hang the end of my life on. I wished for so many changes but mostly that I had been born blessed. My ears were ringing, my eyes squeezed shut, tears flowed. I was at a red light, drowning in ebony.

I sat in the car screaming, then stopped. Bit by bit, reality returned. My breathing calmed and heart slowed its racing. I saw the world regain colors through the slit of my lids.  I took a breath and opened my eyes. No one had heard me. I was still alone, but things were different. The scream had shattered barriers, letting me see what I shouldn’t. I looked over at the woman behind the wheel of an SUV. Average looking mom with kids.  That’s what I saw on the road, but in my mind, with my new awareness, she was naked. Her pale skin almost luminousent. She bent over with her butt to me, spread her cheeks with both hands to show me her ass and pussy. In the vision, she said, “Don’t ask, just do.”

Use me. I knew that if I put my tongue or cock in any of her holes without permission she would cum so hard it’ll go pop. I just knew. 

Through the passenger window I saw a college/hippy/dj looking guy walking against the wind. He looked perfectly broke, high ideas normal. But in my vision, he was naked with his big, white cock semi erect between his legs. He pulled it down, stretching it, saying. “Cut me here.” He drew a finger across the middle of his penis. It bled.

Cut it. Cut his dick and he’ll pop.

The large Fred Sanford looking black guy in the UPS truck. Hearing her scream. That’s what he needed. Yes! No! Help! More! It didn’t matter. All he needed was a piercing plea.

The black Muslim hustling the Final Call newspaper. His green eyed, brown haired German. He wanted to relive the tabooed love of his army days, if she just held him again he would pop so loud and hard the world would know.

The high class black lady. Lick her pussy in front of a camera, make her feel exploited and dirty, the center of attention, just don’t break her heart.

The girl with blue hair, wanted to make a  straight woman moan. 

Every face a new revelation. A street of porngraphic images and perverted thoughts. I saw the world as it seemed and as it was, and I almost crashed several times from staring. 

I had to force the illusions to stay away so I could park safely at the Marriott. Being a voyeur was driving me mad, I needed something grounded for the sake of my sanity, someone real to anchor me. I walked briskly to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. I nearly jogged down the carpeted hall to room 1405. I warned God to either help me or leave me alone. I was tired of being tested, my faith in Him had drained out. When I knocked, all my hope was for an explosive orgasm not salvation.

The girl I picked looked me over when she opened her door, “What’s wrong with you?” I answered promptly that I was a failure. I said I wasn’t the police, but I didn’t mention the visions, I thought that would make me seem too pathetic. I did tell her I’ve never amounted to anything and never would. I informed her I was going to kill myself after I made love to her, so I wanted the best ride she could give me because it would be the last good thing I’ll have. 

She laughed and stroked my face, “I can do that. But you don’t have nothing else keeping you here on earth?”

I laughed and listed all my attempts at normalcy and how each crumbled. She gave me one of those shrugs that said “I give up” and asked if I wanted the full course. 

I answered yes. I wanted everything she could give me. 

She had a hand ready for my money. I gave til she said stop. “Get naked, You can take a shower in there. Condoms are in those four bowls, small, medium, large, extra-large. Oh good, you’re nice sized. Excited already? (giggles). I like your dick. A two hander but not crazy. I hate those whale ones. Gawd, guys jam them up you and think you should be thanking them for being abnormal. Some girls like them I guess. I don’t. Not when your job is fucking 6 to 10 dicks a day.” 

I didn’t need another shower. She was fine with that. I stood near the foot of the bed and watched her spray the sheets with a precautionary mist of disinfectant and put a large towel over the area we would fuck on. Then she set a timer and stripped. I watched her ass as she dog crawled into bed. I knew. I just knew. “You want to be bit. “

“What? You one of them crazy African brothas? Into eating up  lil Asian girls?” She laughed as she said it. 

But I was serious. I knew, just from our brief moment together, that she would pop if I bit her.  “I’m not into race stuff.” 

She had long brown hair that was coal black at the roots. When she looked over her shoulder I thought how perfect she would be for the cover of an old fashion Men’s magazine. I was in marketing so inspiration like that came naturally. 

I leaped on the bed because I needed her before she moved and ruined the image.

I saw  panic in her eyes from my suddenness.  Don’t move, I begged her. “Stay like this, don’t spoil the moment.” I ordered her to trust me. I slowed my motions, tender  kisses sucked her shoulder and skipped down her back. Kisses traced the heart shape of her butt. Gentle pecks became passionate licks. I lingered on her behind because it was so warm. She  lifted a hand to push me away, but I caught it and licked her from asshole to vagina. I kissed her clit and nibbled the inner parts of her butt cheeks. Her hand relaxed. I hugged her hips and rubbed her breasts. She dropped her head and started puffing her cheeks. I knew she was enjoying me but didn’t want to admit it. She was still scared. I figured she probably had a steady diet of Yahoo news. Lone attractive woman, alone with the wrong… Well. You know. 

“Move your hips.” 

She did, hesitantly at first, then the kissing and licking and nibbling gave her a groove. Her body started snake dancing as if it was guided by a flute. I resumed kissing her back, and  followed the furrow of her spine to her neck. 

“Moan if you like my hand holding your throat like this?” My body was probably three times the size of hers. So I covered her without even trying.

She mumbled broken vowels as I held her throat and rubbed my cock along the split of her rump. Her hand shot back to touch my thigh. It was too needy to be defensive. It didn’t push on me with any force to send me away. I could feel her breathing going hyper. I squeezed her neck and bit into her shoulder. Making all those terrible stories personal and electric. “Scared I’ll hurt you?” I bit the back of her neck, right on her choroid and licked its pulse. The instant she gasped I jammed the tip of my cock into her pussy, sawing it back and forth very slow to make  sure she felt the latex and every detail of the dick head in it. I pushed another inch on each word, “Do-you-want-me-to?” 

That’s when she popped. Right at the end of the question. A big shattering burst that threw my head back, crushed my erection, had me yelping.

She had two more tsunamis within our expensive hour. Her vulva, thighs, hips, neck,  breasts still had my marks on them when we were done. She took a quick inventory of her love wounds as I rubbed a finger back and forth on her thigh.  “I have to wear a collar for these, but the rest won’t show.” 

“Don’t you have more clients?”

“Hell no!  Shit, I’m going to lie down and sleep. I’m cancelling everything. Best damn cums I had all year.” She was pushing me off the bed because the timer’s buzz  had started growling.

It didn't matter, because I finally had a smile on my face. “Thanks.” 

She shook her head at my brief cockiness and switched off the ringing,  “I guess I should give you a rebate. Three orgasms, I’ll give you $30 dollars back. Alright? I only give rebates if they were waaaaaay above normal. You’re the only one I've given rebates to so far.”

 I laughed. “You had it good like that? What would your pimp say?”

She was already under the covers for her nap, with a lazy nod she gestured to the tv on the opposite end of the room. “Spy camera on top. I put it there. Records everything. If you don’t pay, or try to steal from me, you go on the internet. If you kill or beat me, you go to CSI. There’s a .45, with 15 explosive rounds taped under the nightstand if you don’t kill me, or it you don’t  beat me senseless. I take the gun, middle of your chest. You’re gone.” She laid her head down and pulled the covers over it. “I’m my own pimp.”

I got dressed and pull only $30 from the roll I gave her. She was secure enough in her dominion to leave the money on the dresser with the mason jars full of condoms.

“You licked and kissed my ass. That’s nasty.”

“I knew you were clean.”

“How  did you know that?”

“I just did.” I started for the door when she called me back. She was sitting up in bed waving at me with her right hand like a traffic cop.

“I am supposed to have an anal later. I’m always extra clean for those. I’m clean all the time, but extra, extra for anals.” She stopped me with a hand on my chest when I was next to the bed. “You didn’t cum. That’s bad business if you don’t cum.” 

“I was focused on you.”

She acknowledged my generosity by unbuckling my belt, unsnapping the top of my jeans, unzipping my fly and taking my dick in her hands.  I never understood guys who measured their cocks. The first thing that always came to my mind was, Why weren’t you using it? But I admit it was amazingly erotic watching how big she got me with her stroking and kissing. 

When the peehole started glistening, she ducked to my balls and lapped them. Best feeling in the world! I was out in space, my hands in her hair and I was hearing words that sounded like they were coming to me from another dimension. “For 400 you can nutt in my mouth.”

My head must have nodded without me knowing, or my mouth said yes without telling me it did. No matter which, all I know is my cock was in her mouth and my stomach was caving every time she sucked. I just knew it would be better for both of us if I pushed her on her back, pinched her nipples and tugged her clit. I just knew it. So I did. 

She started huffing around my shaft.  I didn’t know who was leaking more. Her body was arching, giving me a beautiful view. I even thought, wow she’s beautiful. I think I said it out loud. “Damn you’re beautiful.” I pulled on her clit as if it was a puppet’s string. She made me so high and powerful that I thought I could bring her up with me. Lifting her like a magician, using just her clit. We could both levitate and fly to Narvana, me pulling her by her pearl and she lifting me by one of the few things I was still proud of.

She mumbled for me to let go. I didn’t. Instead I rubbed her between my finger and thumb. 

She squealed and poured, her mouth clamped on my dick and I exploded.

For a while we were suspended on tidal waves and earthquakes, eventually tumbling out muttering “shit, fuck, damn” over and over. I wanted more of whatever drug her skin was made of.  She slapped the back of my thigh. I barely felt it, though it was probably the hardest she could ever hit. “I told you to let go. Why didn’t you let go?”

“I knew you didn’t really want me to.”

She had a dazed smile I had to kiss. She kissed me back, and hugged her arms around my neck. Those arms circled me as we slept way into the morning.  We woke with the right side of her face on my chest, and her first words of the new day were, “I gotta pee.” 

I gallantly said,  “Go ahead.”

I watched her get up and head out of the room. It’s funny but a naked woman gives a different impression walking than she does sprawled over you. Being on you takes away her boundaries, makes her just part of the landscape. It’s her on you, like flowers over a valley’s rolls and dips. 

But you  see her in perspective when she’s up and walking away. The further she gets, the more you want her back.

My girl didn’t close the bathroom door while she peed. I told her I could hear her real loud and she told me to be glad I wasn’t being charged for it.

 “You going to buy me breakfast.” 

 “I am?”

 “I’m giving you a rebate for what you did last night. I want a grand slam special, two pancakes, two eggs, two sausages. I got to pack first. We can shower together to get out of here faster. I’m canceling everything for today. You’re driving. I don’t own a car. Don’t want one. You’re my Lyft.”

I promised I would live long enough to take her to Dennys and get breakfast.

I gladly used my $10 rebate  from the clit pull to get her the Grand Slam, a bowl of fruit and a cup of coffee. It made her happy.  She ate like a champ and even spoke to me like a friend. She fed my soul with good conversation. I watched her go through a wide array of hand and face gestures as she gave me her story. We gave away our likes and dislikes, political leanings and favorite cartoons. She came from a college educated family that was filled with medical doctors and a lawyer. I came from blue collar folks who really didn’t like her kind, because we thought they didn’t like us. Her dad was a doctor. Her mom a lawyer. The manager of the Marriott was of one of her dad’s best friends and secretly let her use the room as much as she wanted in exchange for free loving once a week. My dad was a trucker, my mom a teacher. I had no siblings I knew of. And my family didn’t have any friends who could guarantee luxury suites.

I asked her why, with her pedigree,  she was hooking. She laughed, “ Beeeeecause, I don’t want to be a doctor, I don’t want to be a lawyer. I get a headrush  when men give me their paychecks, house notes, cash from their kids’ college funds, money they have to steal from grants and hedge funds. I love being their dream girl. I love sex. Not the dicks, but the power. You didn’t go to a doctor or lawyer, you came to me.”

I didn’t press her about the downside. I was too enthralled listening to someone who had found their niche in life and had no worries about it ever dumping her.  I was jealous. 

 “So you gonna tell me?” 

I raised an eyebrow because I really didn’t know what she wanted.  I asked her to be specific, so she asked again. 

“You know how many dicks I get a day? I don’t cum much anymore. Maybe twice a year. You did it four times in about forty five minutes.” She finished a sausage patty whole, and stared at me as she swallowed. “They were good.” She looked at me and lowered her voice, which she should have done when she was talking about dicks. There were suburban moms with their kids seated about, and old couples eating good on their senior specials. None of them acted like they heard us, but I wasn’t sure.  “How did you know what to do to make them?”

I toned my reply lower than her question. “I just looked at you and knew what you needed.”  

She finished her grand slam and drained her coffee refill. “I’m Taryln. And that’s a bullshit answer.”

“Taryln, not Jade Li?”

“Taryln. I use Jade Li to protect my family. I don’t want them knowing, and I don’t want clients trying to find me when I’m not working.”

I laughed and she rolled her eyes.  “I looked at you and knew. It’s the truth.” Taryln leaned her chin on her palms and looked evil at me. She wasn’t buying my explanation. I had to prove it. I whispered. “See the guy over there? Old dude with the wife.”

“Old man, old woman. You don’t know if it’s his wife. Could be a girlfriend or sister. Or some woman  from church, or some woman he just slept with.” She made a fake shocked expression. 

“Get  up and go to the restroom. Pass by his table and smile at him on your way.”

She shook her head and laughed at me. I told her again to get up and go to the restroom, pass by the old guy’s table and smile at him like she thought he was something special.

“Why?”

“Do it.”

“Is this something stupid?”

I could see the gears turning behind her black eyes. She relished the challenge, slid up and walked by the old man’s table with a jazzy sway. When she came back from the restroom, she shot the old man’s old lady a polite smile, and flashed him a yeah-you-look-40-not-80 grin.  I think his cheeks would’ve blushed if they belonged to a younger guy.

Taryln scooted into our booth and asked “Now what?” 

I tried not to look at the old man, I kept him on the edges, while staring at Tarlyn like she was the love of my life. “Move your leg a little into the aisle.” She giggled, gave a small what the fuck expression, and inched a leg out of the booth. 

“Now what?” 

“To be wanted. To do it all over again and be young and desired.”

“Huh?”

I told her to turn around and give him another smile. I counted 1,2,3 and told her to do it. She turned and gave the old man a feline curve of the lips. I stared at my plate.

“Don’t look too long. You’re sneaking a glance.” I muttered from under my hand. “Now, bounce your leg slowly with your hand on top.” She did it in 10, 15 second bursts. Long enough. I wagged a finger for her lean over to talk to me. I raised my head to speak, my face was twisted in a disapproving scowl. I lifted my shoulders and puffed my chest to exaggerate my muscles and size, nodded to her and often cast accusing glances his way. I told her to peek over her shoulder, on my go, “But  like you wanna suck his dick.” She did it when I whispered go. 

The old woman finished eating. Her husband was careful to make sure she was unaware of our theater. He kept his face passive and low, even as he helped her up from the table and shuffle to checkout. I got Taryln and we followed. Unlike the couple, we weren’t arm in arm. Taryln didn’t need my help as a support rail, and I wasn’t finished with the foreplay. 

We stood  close enough behind the old man that Taryln could breathe on the back of his neck when she lifted her face.  I rubbed her lower back knowing the caresses would change the tenor and speed of her breathing. I used her breaths to nurse his fantasies. He swallowed hard and gave his lady more support. 

As they started to leave, I whispered to Taryln. “Bump your hand on his crotch. Make it seem an accident.”

She looked at me under an arched eyebrow and did what I told her. I stood back  as she held the restaurant door open and bumped the old man’s crotch with her palm as he passed. Her fingers dragged over the noticeable bulge in his pants. 

He huffed in a high  feminine voice. A squeak, that pin him in the doorway for almost half a minute. He looked to Taryln as if something was terribly wrong, then his expression calmed to something gratefully right. His mouth parted as if he  was going to speak. Taryln’s face mirrored his. The old lady asked him if he was alright. Taryln said nothing. The old man put a hand over the wet spot in the front of his pants and shuffled his lady faster to the car. 

I walked next to Taryln and held the door for her. 

“What just happened?”

“I won. “

Taryln followed me out. She was full of questions I didn’t have answers to.  She directed me to her place. Not the hotel room she used for business, but her home.  It was a comfortable two bedroom brick house situated in an unassuming surb where every dad had a job, every mom wore  black leggings that emphasized her butt, and every kid was expected to go to college whether they needed to or not. 

Taryln lived with a housemate  who didn’t seem fazed by her friend coming home past noon with a big black stranger.

She  twisted her mouth to a side when Taryln  introduced me as a suicidal customer, and was relieved when Taryln said I wasn’t going to kill myself in the house. “Whatever you  two do,” she said, “Do it in her room.”

I expected Taryln to throw up a fuck finger, but she giggled and led me to her bedroom which suited Jan Brady  more than Heidi Fliess. She threw her backpack on a futon and plopped herself beside it. I was pointed towards a red vinyl bean bag chair.  It looked ridiculous, and I kept drifting on it, til I relaxed and just sank. 

Posters of George Micheal and Freddie Mercury stared down on me. They were her sentries, the two of them about as imposing as the Victoria Secrets models pinned between them. “Are you gay?”

“No, but I like old queer stuff."

She was still beautiful and it was near one in the afternoon. For some reason I always thought whores looked best after dark. But it’s really the opposite. They are way better looking  under the sun, without a ton of makeup on, so their features are animated with natural coloring. 

Well, at least Taryln was.

She got up quick to shut the door, then ran back and jumped on her bed. She was a small girl, about 5’1”, very petite. With the posters and bookbag she seemed like a high schooler. I tried not to think of her like that because last night I paid her to suck my dick, and the backpack was filled with her whore clothes, a spy camera, duct tape and a Tarus .45 caliber pistol. 

We continued our conversation from the car. She buzzed during the drive with questions of how? how? how? I answered with I don’t know, it just comes to me. I can see what to do like watching a movie.  “When did it start? Was I the first? “

After I was fired. Yes.

She leaned forward on the bed and looked at me like a diminutive judge. “So you just saw me cumming like I was in a porno?”

“Like an instructional video. You were naked on the bed with your legs open and you were telling me to bite you here, here, here. The other time you were lying on the bed showing me how to pull your clit.”

“I was like a naked teacher? You got a teacher fetish?”

She grinned as I nodded. She of course asked if I saw the old man naked? I answered, “Yeah. He was naked, pulling on his dick, saying he wished he was wanted by a girl like you when he was young. Looking at you made him hate being old. He wanted to be a teen again."

 “That’s what he was saying? You saw his dick and everything?”

 “Yeah.” 

 “You got some queer in you too?”

 ”No.” I laughed. “That’s how I see people now. When I don’t focus to keep the visions back.”

 “Everybody?”

 I admitted not everyone. “Just people who are having kinky thoughts.” 

 “You like the devil?”

 “I’m not the devil.”

She pursed her lips and asked if I wanted to smoke some Jamican Green.  I said yeah because I was still thinking of killing myself, and put smoking weed with a hot Asian on my bucket list. It was that good stuff  too, leaving the sweetest smell when it funked up the room. We smoked until late evening and Taryln decided she wanted to cum again. “What am I thinking?”

“That you wanna cum, sucking a demon’s dick.”

“You’re dark enough for one.” 

I laughed because the weed had me so mellow she couldn’t  say anything to faze me. 

Her housemate knew not to knock, so Taryln and I had the whole night without interruptions. She made me describe my visions to her, I did. She felt like a star as I told her how she wanted me to do her. All the filthy details in motherfucking living color. It made her squeal and bite, she would yell no and hit me whenever she thought I was pulling away. I recited her confessions and was her devil. A red eyed, muscular bastard with a good dick and death wish. 

I tell you. Fucking never felt so good.