2
Lauren Holden stuffed her mailbox key into the lock and tried to turn it. She had her cell phone clamped between her chin and neck, plus half a dozen shopping bags she was attempting to juggle, rather than do the logical and set them down.
“Yes mom … no, I’m not worried. I’m excited. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime!”
Her mother prattled on while Lauren battled the mailbox. She’d make a mental note to tell the building super about it sticking. Lauren had moved to the city to follow her dreams of being a big city attorney. She wasn’t quite there yet, but she did land a first-year associate’s position at the top firm, ‘Bliss, Lovell & Wiseman’. Tomorrow was her first day, and she wasn’t sure who was more excited, her or her mother.
“Mom, really, I’m fine. I just need to get rid of the first day jitters. Hey, can you hold on? You know what, let me just call you back – I have too many bags in my hand, and Peter isn’t home to help me.”
Her mother reluctantly agreed to let Lauren hang up, as long as she promised to call her right back. Lauren promised to call her mother right back, knowing full well that she wouldn’t. She would just call her tomorrow after her big day and give her all the details. Dropping the phone in one of the shopping bags, Lauren grabbed her mail and headed toward the elevator.
Lauren poked the ‘down’ button and waited for the doors to open. When they finally did, she took her first step to enter but a tall blonde emerged from the doors, nearly knocking into her. “Oh Lauren! I’m so sorry!” The woman’s hands were on Lauren’s arms as if to steady her.
Lauren looked up surprised and smiled, “Darla! I mean … Ms. Lovell! How are you? Do you live in this building too?”
Lauren was shocked to see one of the founding partners from her law firm bumping into her here, of all places. She juggled her bags while she waited for Darla to respond.
Darla Lovell was a tall, curvy drink of water. It was as if she was born during the wrong era. Clearly, if this was the golden years of Hollywood, Darla would have given Monroe or Mansfield a run for their money. Her hair was a soft, nearly platinum blonde color, with gentle, perfect flowing waves. Her blue eyes were like crystals that caught rays of light. Her suit was Prada, along with her bag and heels. Every inch of her reeked of powerful, high-class, man-eating (and probably woman-eating too), style and grace, but with an underlying note of pure vixen. Darla was a notorious criminal defense attorney, and had she not been so stunning, she would have mostly been known as the ‘Cruella Deville’ of the courts. She was charmingly ruthless.
Darla smiled warmly at Lauren, her teeth perfect rows of pearly white veneers.
“No-no---no-no-no.”
The words were fast and mildly condescending, as if Darla Lovell would live in this dump, but what a lovely little dump it was.
She continued, “I have a client on the 4th floor. Just dropped off some papers to be signed on my way home. I live over on Park Boulevard – Triumph Towers.”
Of course she did. Triumph Towers were the top echelon of living in this city, and how Lauren could place her living anywhere else was a thought defined as ‘beyond crazy’. Darla patted Lauren’s arm and turned on her heels, the black business stilettos tapping along the stone of the lobby floor.
“Good luck tomorrow! Bring your A-Game.” Darla did a little spin, without missing a step, to give Lauren a confident wink. Then, she was gone, lost in the light of the last rays of sun shining through the glass doors.
The elevator doors opened on the 3rd floor, and Lauren made her way out. As she approached apartment 313, she noticed the door was open. At first, she simply stared at it, frozen in the hall, bags hanging from her arms, as if she was some kind of urban scarecrow attempting to scare off intruders.
She glanced around the hallway, no one else was in sight. With her shoulder, Lauren nudged the door open wider.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
It was at this moment, she wished she hadn’t lied to her mother and had, indeed, called her right back. As she took another step into the apartment, she heard a noise toward the bedroom. Quickly, she dropped the bags at the door and grabbed an umbrella from the stand next to it. Her free hand rummaged each bag for her cell phone, but she forgot which bag she had dropped it in.
“I’m calling the police!” She shouted toward the bedroom, and the door swung open in response!
Her eyes went wide as she saw her fiancé, Peter, standing there in a towel. His hair was wet and slicked back, droplets of water still dripping down his chiseled, tanned, and waxed chest.
He looked from Lauren’s face to her hand with the umbrella, and laughed.
“What in the world are you doing, and why are you calling the police?” He took the towel from around his waist, standing there naked, as he nonchalantly wiped down his body. He knew she had a touch of paranoia, but he couldn’t help but tease her. “Are you going to assault me with a dangerous weapon?” He pointed to the umbrella and added, “Just so you know, that one is actually broken. You should have grabbed the red one, instead.” He smirked, then laughed.
Lauren sucked in a deep breath. She hadn’t realized she was holding it the whole time.
“I thought you were an intruder! Why was the door open, l and what are you doing home?” She set the umbrella back into the rack near the door as her heart rate returned to normal, but she didn’t take her eyes off of him. How could she? He was magnificent looking, and Peter knew it, too. He stood there, aloof, with not a care in the world that he had scared the hell out of her. Deep down, he might actually have liked it.
Peter tossed the towel to the side and grinned at her, his manhood now at half-mast, “I thought I’d come home early and surprise you.” He said, just as he made his cock twitch.
Lauren couldn’t help but laugh at his playfulness. She moved toward him now, feeling playful herself. Peter was the perfect man for Lauren. He was smart, well-educated, incredibly handsome, and athletic. People loved Peter. They flocked to him, and he had a presence that just glowed – especially in the courtroom.
He proposed to her last summer. It was exactly the kind of proposal you would imagine a ‘Prince Charming’ type of guy to stage. First, he sprang her free from her job as a paralegal at small dingy law office. He had pre-arranged with her boss for Lauren to have the day off. She went to work like it was business as usual, but once she walked in, Peter was there waiting to sweep her off her feet in front of all of the other girls in the office.
He flew her to Paris and proposed on the tiny wrought iron balcony of their hotel room, which faced the Eiffel Tower. The balcony was covered in rose petals, a bottle of Dom Perignon chilling off to the left, and a three-piece string band was playing on the balcony next to theirs. He had rented both rooms. Classical music floated through the warm night air, while Peter and Lauren sipped champagne and gazed at the Eiffel Tower. After the first glass, he dropped to his knee and proposed. The diamond was three carats of gorgeousness and sparkle. It glittered in the light of the Eiffel Tower, and it fit her finger like it was Cinderella’s glass slipper. So, of course, she said yes.
Now, Peter stood before her, the epitome of the perfect man with his tanned, toned skin, his smooth, clean-shaven face, and bright smile. His eyes sparkled with lust, and he was motioning her toward him.
“Come here, my little princess.” Lauren’s slender arms reached out to him, her nipples pert against the soft lace of her bra as she anticipated his touch.
Peter reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his fingertips. He then he unfolded them, and wrapped them around the back of her neck, as he pulled her even closer to him. Lauren inhaled the fresh, clean scent of his skin. Her fingertips were already caressing away some of the wetness that still lingered over it. His skin was warm to the touch and his breath quickened when she touched him.
He slid his free hand up the front of her thigh, his fingertips hooking under the hem of the business skirt she wore, pulling it up with them as they trailed toward the round of her bottom. As his other hand made its way down from her neck toward her waist, he paused along its trail to caress her breast through her sweater. Lauren moaned softly, feeling his thumb graze around her nipple. Peter liked to tease her. He liked to bring her to the point where she was begging him for more.
He licked his lips before kissing her. His mouth tasted like mint, and Lauren savored it. The tip of her tongue touched the inner curve of his upper lip. Both of Peter’s hands were now cupping and kneading her ass, the hem of her skirt now pulled up over the curves, resting just below her waist. He pulled Lauren flush against him, and she laced her arms across his shoulders, her mouth, open now, kissing him more intently, his tongue probing and teasing hers.
She could feel his hardness pressed against her mound. The thought that he would soon be inside her dampened her thighs, and Peter knew it. He could feel her body reacting to it. His hands wandered up and down her warm ass, squeezing it. His finger strayed toward the crotch of her lacey panties, and moved it to the side, exposing her slit. He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around until she was pressed up against the wall. Lauren gasped sharply and bit her lip. He already had his throbbing cock in his hand, and was rubbing his swollen member against her wet folds.
“Need me, Princess?” His body was pressed hard against hers, sandwiching her between him and the wall.
Lauren parted her legs, and lifted her ass up a bit as she tried to angle him inside her, but he was controlling the situation – as usual. She nodded as she licked her lips. Her breath coming in short, quick pants now.
“Yes, Peter. I need you inside me.” He flicked his tongue over her ear as he pushed deep inside her, separating her warm, wet walls. Once he was deep inside, he flexed his pelvic muscle so she could feel his steely member jump inside her.
“Needy little Princess.” He growled the words against her neck, then rocked his hips in rhythmic thrusts.
The pleasure inside her was building quickly. She was excited and stressed about her new job, but Peter knew how to make that all go away, and all it took was him between her folds. As he pumped into her, his hand slid around her waist, then dropped below her belly button, caressing her mound lower, until he found another ‘button’. He rubbed it in sync with his thrusts. He could feel how slick she was with need, and it made him want to explode inside her. Lauren whimpered at his touch, and braced herself against the wall, her flushed cheek pressed against its cool surface.
Her body thumped against it while he thrust, the picture frames on the wall shaking as each thrust became more powerful.
“Now, my needy little Princess. You can come now.” Lauren cried out as a gush of pleasure poured from her. Peter quickened his pace as he felt her walls contract around him, “That’s it, baby … let it all go.” He was slapping against her, harder now, as the pleasure coursed through her entire body, licking her nerve-endings, and making her twitch against him. She gulped air quickly as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes squeezed shut, as if trying to push every bit of powerful orgasm out of her body.
A thrust or two later and Peter was folded against her, his own body convulsing as he ejaculated deep inside her; ropes of his love, coating her walls. He breathed hard against her as he moved his hips now, slowly.
“I love you, Princess.”