CHAPTER 4
Michael
Two hours before…
The title of my ad is the bait — Question-For exhibitionists who possibly need some doe - m4w
It’s intriguing and crazy enough to entice the right person to click and learn the dirty details. I know the ad in and out because I wrote it. And, Jesus, how I agonized over the wording the first time I placed it on Craig’s List.
Can you fuck a fit white male while being watched for doe?
If so, write for details and tell me if you are truly capable of doing this.
Originally, instead of “fit white male” I’d written “older white male” because it’s the truth, and by nature, I’m an honest guy. I found out soon enough that it didn’t work. Most of the women who would even consider my proposal want a fit young guy. And at thirty-nine, when I started this three years ago, I didn’t fit the bill. They wanted twenty-somethings, so I had to lure them in and then hook them when we were face to face.
And it worked. Over and over.
Must be my scintillating personality.
Or maybe there are just a lot of horny women because I’ve found to my surprised pleasure that there are enough girls out there ready, willing, and able to accommodate me.
Men too.
Let’s not forget about them. The twisted fucks who want to watch.
What a sick world.
Thank god.
I lost my last girl three weeks ago. She told me she was dating some guy and that it wasn’t serious, and then… bam! She’s getting married. I call bullshit. It won’t last. How can it? Love doesn’t exist. It’s all a charade. A mirage. A big, empty, soul-sucking hole promoted by clever marketers, so you’ll sink three months salary into a ten karat ball and chain.
Right, so anyway, enough of that.
Sitting in an upscale hotel in Long Beach, New York, I wait for my latest mark. I like Long Beach, and I have a few high-end real estate properties here. I like any place near the ocean. Too bad I’m debating leaving before she gets here.
Do I really want to go through this again?
Who am I kidding? I miss screwing a hot chick while some sick, slobbering fuck watches.
Besides, I’ve already set everything up. I’ve given the newspapers to the pigeons and told them I was playing a trick on a blind date. And they bought it. They buy it every time.
Sad, really. Because it’s a mean joke. If it was a blind date, these guys wouldn’t mind, and would even think it’s funny that this girl won’t know which guy she’s meeting. I’m hanging her out to dry, and these guys love it.
I sigh and nod to my best friend, who’s playing one of the pigeons this time. Why Jack sticks with me, I’ll never understand. He’s a lawyer, so maybe he’s got a thing for down and out head cases.
I fit that bill.
As much as I bust his balls, he’s a good man, and I don’t know where the hell I’d be without him. He put back the pieces when Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall.
In case that isn’t clear, I’m Humpty.
And when I fell, I cracked hard. Wanted to die, didn’t want to be put back together. Jack didn’t care what I wanted, so he got out the duct tape and glue, then patched me up.
I don’t know if I’m better off.
After all, what normal person sits in a hotel bar waiting for a stranger to arrive so he can decide if he’ll pay her to fuck him while creeps watch.
Fuck, what does it matter? I already lost everything.
Tossing back my drink, I feel myself being sucked into the past. And then…
She walks in, and my heart — that cold, black, dead thing in my chest — starts beating.
Jesus, where’d that sappy shit come from?
How’s this instead?
An angel just walked in and is heading right for me.
She’s gorgeous, a goddess. An angel. Dare I clip her wings?
What the fuck?
I want to run. Should run.
From the corner of my eye, I see Jack grinning from ear to ear. He knows, but I have to play it cool. I need a new Ex, an exhibitionist. Ironic, isn’t it?
But, she’s too perfect. Jesus, look at her. She’s already seen the pigeons, and her smile, that beautiful, shy, embarrassed smile, grows on those sweet cherub cheeks. She’s a little older than the typical marks who answer my ad, and I’m lost. There’s no turning back now. I’m supposed to hook her, but I’m the one dangling on the line. My heart is doing some weird thumping thing. I want it to stop, so I take a deep breath and put that practiced, knowing, arrogant smirk on my face and watch her.
She figures out that it’s me much faster than most of the others ever did. She takes ownership of the stool next to me, and my throat closes up, my mouth losing the ability to produce saliva.
“Nice trick,” she says, and I take a sip of my beer to clear the cotton from my mouth. Her voice is hardening my cock.
“You’re late.” Gotta play the hardass, and I silently give thanks that my voice doesn’t come out sounding like a croak.
I’ve made her uncomfortable, and she’s rambling on about why she’s late. I inhale and let it out slowly. We’re on equal footing now. We’re both off balance.
I desperately want to kiss her.
What the fuck?
“How did you know it was me?” I ask, trying to maintain my cool and keep command of this meeting.
“Lucky guess?”
She makes me smile, and I don’t like how fast my heart is beating. Am I having a heart attack? I would actually prefer that to what I think is actually happening. She’s staring at me, and it’s my turn to say something. I can’t just sit here with my dick in my hand.
“No, come on, really. Tell me.” Smile, remember to smile. Be charming. Be arrogant. You got this, Mike.
“Did you know that your dimples show when you smile like that?”
She’s brilliant, and I chuckle. I can’t help it. She’s bantering with me, playing coy despite how she must be feeling.
And what is she feeling?
Is it anything like this insane sensation that’s overtaken me?
I get her a glass of Chardonnay and then go in for the kill. I have to get back to business, so I insult her weight. Fuck. I think some of Humpty’s cracks are showing.
Her cheeks redden. I’ve clearly flustered her, maybe even hurt her, but I can see in her eyes that the compliment wrapped in the insult I’ve given her has registered. She is delicious, and I’ll remember to tell her that often.
“You’re rude,” she says, and I smile. She’s got guts.
I still want to kiss her. Truth be told, I want to do a whole lot more than that, but how do I even manage the kiss when I just told her she’s fat?
Wait. I can salvage this. “So tell me. Could you fuck me while someone watches?”
She stalls, takes a sip of her wine, and then to my amazement, continues to banter. “Did you call them assholes?”
She’s too smart. I should run.
I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to have a conversation. I want…
I want to kiss her. Let’s focus on that. Anything else is too absurd. “Answer the question,” I say in my most dominant voice. And damn it all, she still wants to talk.
I grab her glass and take a sip. It gives me an idea of what her lips will taste like, but I want to know for sure. I lean in close, like I’m going to impart to her the wisdom of the ages, and she leans in to capture every syllable.
Instead, I offer her nothing but the hell I reside in. She should call me Lucifer. I capture her lips. I take her in. I make her mine.
And she is every bit as delicious as I imagined.
More.
I’m going to devour her.
I’m going to twist her and pervert her and make her mine.
She’s responding to the kiss, opening up to me, and my cock grows painfully hard inside my jeans. It wants release, and I want…
No, I’m not going there. I stop thinking and simply kiss this woman. I put everything into it. She’s going to be in love with me and crying for more before I take my lips from hers. When I do, I hear a soft, sweet little sigh come from her. A sad, wistful sound full of longing. She’s mine.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say. “You could fuck me with some asshole watching.”
We have dinner. She has a healthy appetite unlike the anorexic bitches in their twenties who usually answer my ad. She’s also cute and innocent, funny and sexy as all hell.
She’s going to make us a lot of money, not that I need it, but business is business.
It’s a struggle, but I finally break down the last of her defenses, and she tells me her name.
Kim.
Harps play, and a heavenly choir sings. Kim is now my new favorite name.
I’ve got to stop this!
I’m acting like a love struck teenager. Disgusting. Stupid. Ridiculous and absurd.
“Are you finished with your meal?” She nods and thanks me. She should run instead. “Good. Then let’s go upstairs and fuck. What do you say?”
As I wait for her answer, my cock throbs in my pants. It’s actually been throbbing since I asked her to rub it. And she did. Utter perfection and I want her to rub it a whole lot more.
Actually, I want more of everything. More of fucking her, draining her, twisting her into something she doesn’t recognize.
I bet she likes it hard. I can tell. I have to stifle a groan.
Jack rescues me from my dangerous thoughts. “She’s a winner, man. Did you already tell her to drop some pounds?”
“I did.” I chuckle and make introductions, letting her know he’ll be the first to watch. Kim’s jaw nearly hits the table. It’s a good look. It’ll fit my cock perfectly. It twitches, straining to escape the bonds of my pants.
“I… umm… wait. You? One of the newspaper men? You’re going to watch?”
She’s perfect, and I want to laugh in pure joy. I don’t. I can’t. I’d look like such an ass. I’m supposed to be in control of this, the boss.
Jack laughs. “Damn straight I am. Gonna enjoy it too. Did Mikey tell you he’s a sucker for breasts? Me, I’m more of an ass man. Not that I’m gonna mind seeing your tits worked over. Damn, Mikey. You lucked out this time, didn’t ya?”
Jack brings me back to reality, but it doesn’t last long. I’m about to have sex with this magnificent creature.
For a fleeting moment, I panic, fearing it will destroy me.
I should run, but I don’t.
I have to have her. She’s already mine.
I take her hand and lead her from the restaurant. My heart is thudding, and I fear the whole city can hear it. I fear Kim can hear it. I look at her and see that she’s dumbstruck. She can’t hear my heart over her own. I give her hand a little reassuring squeeze, and she smiles up at me nervously.
There’s an “L” word for this.
Lust.
Jesus, let’s go with that.
Much safer.
I’m not even going to contemplate the existence of love at first sight. Lock me naked in a padded room if I ever go in that direction. Mad as a Hatter is Humpty. That’s what they’ll say.
I’ll have to remind her of the paramount rule, and often. Don’t fall for me. And even as I’m plunging my cock into her sweet, delicious pussy, I’ll have to remind myself too. Don’t fall for her.
Together, we leave the bar and make our way to the elevator. It’s too late now. I can’t run, can’t escape.
And as much as I think I should, as much as I think this will crush me, I don’t want to run.
I want her.
She’s mine.
As sick and twisted as this is, I even think I’ll be very happy spending my time watching her.
Happy?
Oh fuck.
I’m lost.