Chapter 3
Joshua Going to Dinner
I was the first one to arrive at the beach house on Monday morning. It was totally surreal, like walking in a dream while on drugs.
On the one hand, I was pretty bummed about having to spend time with Naomi. The girl was abrasive and borderline rude most times for no reason. But on the other hand, she was hot, young, and on the same page as me with respect to this crap from our parents. My strategy was that we’d just sit out the week, play nice, and then walk off, trust funds intact.
But my head shook once I got into the kitchen and noticed a handwritten card next to a basket of soaps and lotions. Fuck. More bullshit.
“This is unreal,” was my disdainful grunt.
Unfortunately, handwriting on the accompanying card looked like my mother’s:
Hi kids!
We got you a reservation at the Hamptons La Scala–6:30 under both of your names.
There are cancellation fees for La Scala, so don’t miss out! We’ll know if you two decide to play hooky. ;) Besides you’ll love the tiramisu, they have the best ladyfingers soaked in rum.
Shit. I didn’t know whether to laugh or yell because this was such a crock.
Then the door opened and Naomi clumsily stepped in. Behind her were a dozen bags and suitcases, loaded into a giant pyramid. She looked like she had packed to move into a new home. But there was no reason to be rude because we were stuck in this together, after all.
“Hey,” I said to her. “How’s it going?”
The brunette barely looked me in the eye.
“Did you pick out a room yet?” she asked, dragging in one bag after another. I stepped forwards to help, but then stopped. We were supposed to be enemies.
“No, not yet,” was my grunt.
“Okay. I’m going to put my things in my room.”
“Fine.”
She shot me a cold look. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to help her bring her things inside or not. But this was a Catch-22. I offered to help, she’d get mad and say she could handle it herself. But if I didn’t help, she’d get all huffy and say that I wasn’t a gentleman.
But there was something about Naomi for sure. One, the girl had gotten hot. I couldn’t wrap my mind around how gorgeous she looked, dragging in bag after bag. Supposedly, she was twenty-six, but looked way younger than that. Long brown curls flowed in the breeze, spilling in waves down her back. Round caramel eyes sparkled in the sunlight whenever she was willing to acknowledge my presence. Plus those curves. This was no Skinny Minnie with bony elbows and jagged knees. Naomi was easily what you’d call plump, with generous breasts and a giant ass.
Right up my alley, physically. But on a personality level, there was a lot to be desired. Because the brunette was a lot like other girls I’d met during my time in the city: fake, uptight, thinking she was God’s gift to man. The type of girl who would go out, get a guy to buy her drinks, and then leave with another dude. Totally ruthless with ice in her veins.
But hey, I’m used to girls like this. It’s par for the course, so I lounged on the couch, watching that curvy form work. Occasionally, she caught me checking her out with a lazy smile on my face, but I didn’t care. Besides, I was pretty sure that she was checking me out too. After all, I’m a good looking motherfucker who works out every day. So yeah, the brunette was eyeing me as I eyed her, even if we weren’t going to say anything.
Once she had all of her things inside, I showed her the card my mom had left us.
The girl rolled her eyes.
“Let’s just do what they want. We’re already here. Who cares?”
“Exactly,” I concurred. “Just because we have to go to dinner together doesn’t mean we have to interact.”
Naomi didn’t even acknowledge my words. Instead, she went straight into her room and slammed the door.
* * *
I drove us to the restaurant in my Mustang. We were both dressed nicely, but the looks on our faces could have frozen someone in place.
I’d been thinking about my life ever since my parents threatened to take away the trust. Because why the hell hadn’t I foreseen this? The money was like a leash, and I cursed myself for not having a good career so that I could tell George and Nancy to kiss my ass, keep their cash, and stop controlling my actions.
Instead, now there was this farce. I was going along with my parents’ insane, primitive, sick plan and going out with this girl. Needless to say, Naomi and I didn’t speak for the entire car ride.
Plus, it was worse once we got inside the restaurant. Calling it awkward would’ve been an understatement. The only times we spoke were when the servers came to take our orders and bring us food. We ate in silence with only the occasional clink of silverware. Frigid, like we were strangers at the table instead of two people thrown together on a romantic date.
As I drove us home in the dark of the night, my eyes shot a sideways glance at the brunette. Just when I was about to say something, she finally broke the silence.
“This sucks,” she said.
I laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I used to really get along with my parents,” she continued. “Now, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to look at them the same again.”
“What, your parents haven’t run your life since you were born?”
“No. We had a good relationship. I don’t understand what this is all about.”
I chuckled. “At least you’ve got a degree. I don’t have shit, so you’re better off than me.”
The rest of our drive was quiet except for the sounds of the powerful motor speeding us along the streets.
Once in the house, we went straight to our respective bedrooms. I lay in bed, playing on my phone and killing time. Reception wasn’t great where we were, though. The added frustration made me want to throw my cell against the wall.
But instead of resorting to destruction, I left my room and made my way to the bar to pour a drink. The beach house had a full bar between the kitchen and the living room, with enough liquor to get an entire stadium soused.
Perfect. Exactly what I needed.
I was going to stop in the bathroom to take a quick piss, but then a noise stopped me. Just as I began to pull the sliding door aside, it occurred to me that the light was on and that Naomi was inside.
Oh shit. I backed off, not wanting to intrude and make things even more uncomfortable than they already were. But as my feet stepped away, my eyes popped open at the sight.
Because the sliding door was open a sliver, and oh shit, but Naomi was inside. She stood there naked, near the mirror, just looking at herself. I couldn’t look away, parts of me hardening immediately. Her body was perfect, a sinuous hourglass shape with giant, soft tits and wide hips that made me salivate. I couldn’t see that backside, but it had to be just as amazing.
But shit, this was wrong. So trying to act like nothing was amiss, I sauntered to the bar, poured myself a glass of scotch, and strode back into my room.
My original idea was to drink my scotch and pass out in bed. But with each sip from the glass, I began to think more about Naomi and her naked body.
I’d often wondered, growing up, if she was any good in bed, but it wasn’t something to dwell on. Back then, it didn’t matter to me whether she was or not; I just liked the mental exercise. What would it be like to squeeze those big breasts? Were they full, firm and delicious? Would she moan and tilt her head back, asking for more?
Oh shit. I began to stroke myself, imagining the brunette in my head. What would Naomi look like touching herself? I’d gotten a glimpse of that shaved pussy, and it looked pretty tight.
I downed the rest of my scotch and stripped off my pants and boxers, getting hard knowing that her fine body was only a few paces away from my door. I wondered if she was still naked, my mind mentally caressing that big beautiful butt.
With that, I began to really stroke my cock, masturbating to the idea of her naked body crushed beneath my naked body. The sex would undoubtedly be rough. We had years of being weird around each other, ignoring one another and making snide comments to each other’s faces. A girl like that needed discipline, and I’d give it to her.
Oh yeah. Would those big breasts bounce in my face when she rode me? Would she mewl with pleasure as I twisted those nips? And shit, but my mind ran away because I even fantasized about putting it into her deep brown pucker and making her scream.
Suddenly, a noise disturbed my session, making me jerk up. It was likely the scotch thinking for me, but I wanted to walk out with my throbbing erection and give it to her. We were both going along with our parents’ program, so what would be the harm in “having some fun,” as our families had put it?
After all, Naomi struck me as a girl that was probably not into certain things, but could be if given the proper motivation. I wondered how far she’d be willing to take things—if she’d be willing to be bound or gagged even.
What would her moans sound like? I jerked off faster just imagining the mewls I’d get going full bore. Would she be responsive? Would she ask for more?
And with that, the eruption came. Jetting seed every which way, my pole spurted wildly, coating my hand with hot fluids. Fuck! The image of Naomi’s smile and her curvy body made me pulse and thrum, imagining that tightness locked around me.
But jerking off isn’t half as good as the real thing. Frustrated, I threw my head back against the pillow. What the hell? My hope had been that alcohol and masturbating would run me ragged, pushing me into deep dreamless sleep.
Instead, all I could do was look over at my bedroom door, wondering what that spoiled little girl outside was doing.