Chapter 5: Denny
I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t get Isaac and Amy off my mind during the two-hour ride to Club D. Something about their relationship kept gnawing at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why.
Maybe I was simply irritated that Amy was now occupying the bulk of my best friend’s time. Or maybe I was simply intrigued by their steamy relationship and how they couldn’t keep their hands off each other no matter where they were or who was watching. I could only imagine how it was when they were alone. I mean, I get the chemistry and attraction of a new sexual relationship, but there was an electricity between Isaac and Amy that I’d never experienced with a woman before. I found it… interesting.
They couldn’t go more than ten minutes without texting or calling one another. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other in public. They’d show up to dinner or happy hour, then disappear after a few minutes and we wouldn’t see them again until the next day. They were so zoned in on each other it was like nobody else even existed.
Most of my relationships hadn’t lasted past breakfast, so I had to wonder what it would be like, walking around with a perpetual hard-on and a stupid grin on my face over one woman. I was forty-years-old and had never seriously dated any one woman. Even before I got filthy rich and started spending my weekends neck-deep in Club D pussy, a committed relationship was not something I’d given much thought to. I’d dated here and there, but never more than a few weeks and never with the intent of letting it get serious. I truly was a “fuck ‘em and forget ‘em” kind of guy.
After I got rich, women came out of the woodwork to fuck me. Pussy was easy, plentiful, with no strings attached. Call me a pig, but most women were there for a quick fuck and an easy buck, not looking for a long relationship with a guy like me. I had never been in love. Hell, I didn’t even know what that would feel like.
Fuck all that sappy shit. Maybe I was just bummed that Isaac didn’t come to Club D with me and Sammy anymore, not since the night he met Amy there. She had sort of snuck in as the guest of the dark-haired waitress that kept catching my eye, Serena Diaz, then ended up spending the night with Isaac and that was all she wrote. Once he got a taste of the sweet bait that was between her legs, she reeled him in hook, line and sinker.
Or maybe it was the fact that when I wasn’t getting under his skin, Isaac seemed to be happier than he had ever been before. He had always been a relatively happy guy, but he was also wound tight as a watch spring most of the time and let every little thing push his buttons. I’d seen him go ballistic in a staff meeting and send programmers ducking for cover just because a line of code had an error in it. Me and Sammy were always telling him to lighten up because we were afraid he was going to stroke out on us during one of his rants. Isaac was always the most serious of us three partners. But now? Shit. He had a goofy smile on his face all the time. He didn’t sweat the small stuff so much. He seemed totally chill… Happy… And just the mention of Amy’s name or her image popping up on his phone was enough to make him giggle like a fucking lovesick teenager. It was disgusting!
Whatever the reason, I couldn’t get the love birds off my mind, which was starting to piss me off.
Sammy, who was sitting next to me in the back of the Mercedes G-Wagon, was nursing an icy Corona and fiddling with his phone. He glanced over when he realized neither of us had said anything in a while and bumped me with his knee.
“What’s on your mind, Den?”
I took a sip from my Corona and shook my head. “Nothing. Why?”
“You just seem preoccupied,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me as if he were trying to read my mind. “You still thinking about shoving your foot in your mouth on TV this morning?”
“Nah, that’ll be old news by Monday,” I said. I took another drink and wiped my lips on the back of my hand.
“So, what is it? It’s not like you to be this quiet.” He leaned over and frowned. “You didn’t forget your Viagra again, did you?”
“I’m sure you brought enough for both of us,” I said.
He kept leaning and frowning. “So…”
“So… I was just thinking about Isaac and Amy.”
“Ah, the love birds.” His eyebrows went up and he smiled. “What about them?”
“It’s just weird,” I said, jabbing a thumb at the empty seat behind us. “Isaac not being with us.”
“It is weird, but he seems happy,” Sammy said, his head bobbing on his thick neck. “You a little jealous?”
I snorted at him. “Jealous? Of them? Fuck no. Why would I be jealous?”
“It’s okay if you are,” Sammy said quietly. He leaned his head back against the seat rest and pushed out a long sigh. “I gotta admit, I’m a little jealous of them.”
“You are?”
“Sure. Who wouldn’t be. Amy is amazing. And Isaac is head over heels.” He finished the Corona and immediately pulled another from the minifridge between the seats. He glanced at me as he twisted off the bottle cap. “You ever seen him this happy?”
“No.”
“So maybe he’s on to something.”
“Maybe.”
Sammy took a quick drink and smacked his lips. “To be honest, I’m kind of looking around for something like that myself.”
“You’re what?” I turned sideways in the seat to face him. “I don’t believe it. Sammy the sausage is looking for a steady girlfriend?”
He pushed his big shoulders up and down. “I wouldn’t mind meeting a woman I could get serious with,” he said. “I mean, this shit is great, going to Club D and fucking like a rabbit all weekend, but it is getting a little old.”
I smiled because I thought he was fucking with me. “Sammy Branniff is getting tired of pussy? Holy shit, man, is Hell freezing over?”
He smiled and gave his dark eyes a little roll. “I’m getting tired of going home alone when I’m not at Club D.” His face softened as he started peeling the label from the bottle with his thumbnail. “I’m almost forty, Den. Not getting any younger. Partying and pussy are great, but… I don’t know…. I’m thinking maybe it’s time to settle down, maybe start a family, put all this crazy shit behind me.”
“I don’t believe it,” I said with a smile. “Sammy the Sausage is thinking about settling down. I never thought I’d live to see the day.” I gave him a casual look and pushed up my eyebrows. “Anyone on your radar?”
“Well, between you and me I find your new marketing assistant pretty fucking hot.”
I nearly choked on my beer. My new marketing assistant, Andrea Nichols, was a former women’s Olympic volleyball player and fitness model who stood nearly six-feet tall and looked like she had been chiseled out of bronze. Gorgeous, in an Amazonian kind of way, she had flaming red hair and a personality that walked the line between confident and abrasive. Isaac had made the observation that she would have been right at home fighting or fucking Conan the Barbarian.
She was hot, no denying, but I had a rule not to sleep with women who looked like they could kick my ass in a fair fight. My guess was even her twat had muscles that could crush beer cans. And giant cocks. Hmmm… maybe that was the attraction. Andrea was the female equivalent of Sammy, if Sammy had been drop-dead gorgeous and had the best toned legs in the company.
“Ya know, I actually think you guys might make a pretty good match,” I said resolutely. “Imagine the giant babies you’d have. Why don’t you ask her out?”
“Because the few times I’ve been around her she’s looked at me like I’m Bigfoot or something,” he said, trying to make it sound like it didn’t bother him.
“Well, you do make quite an impression,” I said. “I could feel her out for you if you like.”
“Ah, I don’t know…” He held up the bottle and exhaled again, as if the old Sammy was being pushed out to make room for an impending new one. “I’ll think about it. For now, I’ll keep going to Club D every weekend to keep in practice.” He brought the bottle to his lips and arched his eyebrows at me. “How about you, Den? Any particular girl on your radar?”
I thought about the question for a moment, thought about lying, then figured since he was being honest, I might as well give it a try, too. “There is one girl that I keep noticing at the club,” I said. “Do you know Serena Diaz, the waitress who introduced Isaac to Amy?”
Sammy nodded in thought. “Dark hair, Hispanic, nice curves, looks like a young Sophia Vergara from that TV show?”
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“She’s hot as a freakin’ tamale, dude,” Sammy said with a grin and a very bad Spanish accent. “She’s also really smart, working at Club D to pay for college. Isaac said something about her getting her Masters in Physics or something like that. Wants to be a cancer researcher or a doctor.”
“Really? Wow. I had no idea. Interesting…”
Sammy reached over and tapped his bottle to mine. “So maybe you should talk to her this weekend rather than seeing how many holes you can stick your little pecker into.”
“Hey, fuck you, man. My little pecker is the perfect size,” I said.
“Yeah, for Goldilocks, maybe.”
“Yours is the one that’s like a fucking alien growing out of your crotch. I can’t believe women let you get near them with that thing.”
“That thing, as you so accurately call it, gets no complaints,” he said, rubbing the bottle against the monster that lay dormant inside his khakis. “Long as it’s kept serviced, it’s a happy bear.”
“Whatever.” This was a game we had been playing for decades. My cock’s bigger than your cock. It was always a losing game for me, even though I had a very respectable eight to nine inches depending on the day and level of alcohol in my system. Isaac had a ten-incher, but Sammy’s always took the prize at an even twelve. The damn thing looked like a kielbasa sausage, hence his nickname since the tenth grade, Sammy the Sausage.
We’d been comparing the sizes of our cocks for decades, starting in grade school when the three of us were about on par length-wise. Then puberty struck and everything about Sammy started growing bigger and it was no contest. Sammy was six-five, two-forty, solid muscle. His cock was big even for his frame. And don’t ask me how I know so much about my pal’s cock. Let’s just say we’ve shared a girl or two (or twenty) over the years and girls tend to talk.
I glanced at his crotch and shook my head in disgust. “Not everyone wants a monster cock like yours. Christ, I don’t see how you even keep that thing in your underwear.”
“I wrap it around my leg,” he said with the grin. “Twice.”
“Lovely,” I sighed. “This is like getting relationship advice from Henry the VIII.”
“Then take your own advice, Den. Take the time to get to know her a little better. She could be the girl of your dreams. You never know.”
“You never know.” I nodded with the bottle at my lips.
A tiny spark went off deep in my brain.
She could be the girl of my dreams…
Dreams…
I’ll be damned…
The dream…
I had been having this recurring dream for weeks…
About a girl with the dark hair whose face I never see…
Could it be her?
Could my subconscious be sending me some kid of sign?
Could Serena Diaz literally be the girl in my dream?
* * *
I’d never put much stock in the subconscious mind or the relevancy of dreams, but I had been having the same dream for a few weeks now and something Sammy said made it bubble up from the depths of my brain and start playing in my head like an old porno film.
Thinking back now, the first time I had the dream was the night I asked Rosalie the waitress about Serena Diaz. I knew Serena was the one who had been instrumental in Isaac and Amy meeting, but I didn’t know anything else about her. I had noticed her before, of course, wearing the short waitress uniform that looked like a French maid outfit with six-inch heels. I mean, even with all the naked chicks running around, it was impossible to miss a girl who looked like a young Sophia Vergara, for petesake. But she always seemed so serious when she wasn’t serving the members, like her body was there but her brain was off doing something else. Cancer research, maybe.
That night, as I sat at the bar in between trips upstairs, I caught a whiff of her perfume as she hurried past and my eyes trailed after her, watching her round bottom sway as she walked, the muscles in her legs flexing in the high heels.
She had a full tray of drinks in her hands. She barely noticed me sitting there, which was unusual because the girls usually fell all over themselves when me, Isaac, and Sammy were around.
There were certain perks to being a billionaire, whether you were good looking or not. Hot women were attracted to you because of the smell of your money and the light of your fame, much in the same way that old, ugly-ass rock stars like Mick Jagger attracted gorgeous super models young enough to be their granddaughters.
When you had the kind of money we had it was not who you were that mattered; it was what you were and what you could offer that counted the most. I gotta tell you, that shit wears pretty thin, even though I had enjoyed milking it for all it was worth for the last few years.
Maybe that was why the three of us were all looking for something more now. A deeper connection rather than a quick fuck. The attention of a woman like Serena Diaz, for example. But she wasn’t paying attention to me. She never had. Again, maybe that was why my subconscious mind started fucking her every night in my sleep. Because she showed zero interest in fucking me when I was awake.
I wasn’t exactly sure where the dream took place because, as with most dreams, everything around me was dark, the air swirling with smoke. I was in a bed. Alone.
Then someone was there.
Just a shadow coming toward me from out of the darkness.
It was a woman.
She was naked.
Her body was perfect, voluptuous, large breasts with dark areolas and raspberry nipples. She cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and moaned softly.
She had a thin waist that curved out into wide hips that tapered into toned legs the color of honey. Her pussy hair was black, trimmed into a neat line that directed my eyes to the pink goodness between her legs.
I sniffed the air like a hungry wolf.
I could smell her hot juices, tangy in the thick mist between us.
I licked my lips.
I could taste her on the tip of my tongue.
My cock was hard, so hard it throbbed as the blood pumped into it from the rest of my body.
The smoky darkness swirled around her as she approached the bed, as if the heat from her body was giving birth to the fog that was surrounding us.
The air grew heavier.
It was hard to breathe.
Sweat oozed from every pore of my naked body.
Then she appeared in full. Her hair was long and black, as black as a crow’s wings. It hung over her dark shoulders and framed her face. Her face was unclear, as if I were seeing her through a steamy window.
Did I know this woman?
Had I seen her somewhere before?
Or was she a complete figment of my imagination: a creation or compilation of the many women I’d had in my bed.
She came the bed and reached out a hand. I was on my back, my cock stiff and hard like the mast of a ship. Her fingers closed around the shaft and started moving slowly up and down, up and down, rolling the thin skin over the hard muscle, squeezing at the head to ooze out drops of anticipation from the slit.
“Do you want me to suck your cock?” she asked in a voice that seemed to echo in my ears.
“Yes... please…”
Her hand held my cock steady as she lowered her mouth to the head, circling it with her tongue, pushing it between her moist lips. Her head began to slowly move up and down, taking my cock fully inside her mouth, deep in her throat, then sliding her lips back over it the shaft until the head appeared at the tip of her tongue.
“I want to touch you…” I sighed, willing my hands to reach for her large breasts. I realized that my hands were tied to the headboard above my head. I tugged against the bonds, frustrated that I couldn’t touch her body. I wanted to squeeze her breasts, feel the warm heat of her pussy on my fingers… on my tongue.
“Do you want to fuck me?” she asked.
“Yes…” I moaned. “Yes…”
Without releasing my cock, she climbed on top of me, centered her hole over my rigid shaft, then lowered herself until I felt her hot, wet pussy open up and take in the head of my cock.
My body was suddenly on fire.
My toes curled.
My top teeth dig into my bottom lip.
I strained again against the bonds that kept my hands in place.
She impaled herself onto me until I felt my cock reach her innermost wall. She gasped and braced her palms on my chest and dug her fingernails into my flesh.
“I love your cock, Denny…” she said, her voice deep and husky. It tickled my ear like a whisper. She leaned forward as her hips slid back and forth over the full length of my shaft. Her warm breath washed over my face. “So long… so hard…”
My hands were suddenly free. I brought them immediately to her round tits, fleshy, full, the nipples like hard thimbles under my thumb. She moaned as I massaged her fleshy globes, her pussy sliding over my cock, making a squishing sound as her hot juices gushed over my cock and balls.
I opened my eyes.
Her hair covered her face.
I tried to reach up and brush her hair back so I could see her face, but she wrapped her fingers around my wrists and forced my hands back over my head.
“Close… getting… close…” she moaned as her hips started to move faster. I was close, too. I could feel the heat rising inside my balls. Sweat covered our bodies like oil. I arched my back to drive deeper into her. The orgasm began as a tingle in my balls and built to a crescendo that literally spewed jizz from my cock into her tight cunt.
“Fuck…” I sighed, eyes closed, teeth clenched. “I’m cumming… fuck… I’m….”
I exploded with such force that she had to dig her fingernails deeper into my chest to hang on. I felt searing pain from her nails tearing at my skin, but didn’t care. I bucked like a bronco as the orgasm shuddered through my body and into hers.
I heard her suck in a deep breath as her body tensed and the motion of her hips increased. She slammed her pussy up and down on my cock and screamed my name.
“Dude? Dude? DUDE!”
Startled, I opened my eyes to find Sammy staring at me from the other side of the car. He had an amused smirk on his face. He held up his bottle and nodded toward my crotch. I glanced down. The Corona bottle was between my legs. I had my fingers wrapped around the long neck. My hand was sliding up and down.
“You okay, man?” he asked, grinning now with the bottle at his lips.
“I’m fine,” I said, clearing my throat, squirming to sit up straight. “Just dozed off for a minute.”
He was grinning like the fucking Cheshire Cat.
“Dude, you were dreaming about Serena Diaz.”
“I was not.”
“You were, too. You were moaning, ‘Serena… Serena…’”
“Fuck you, asshole!” I growled. “I was not.”
“And you were jacking off your beer bottle.”
“Will you give me a fucking break?”
“Will you admit that you were thinking about her?”
“I wasn’t thinking about anybody.”
“Okay, have it your way.” He leaned over to nudge me with his elbow. “Just tell me one thing, bro… Was it good for you?”
“Fuck you,” I growled, shifting in the seat as my plump cock pushed against my jeans.
I drained the bottle, tossed it over my shoulder into the rear seat, and plucked another Corona from the minifridge as Sammy continued to smirk at me.
I settled in with my eyes glued to the window and my legs crossed for rest of the ride, hoping that Sammy would drop the subject of Serena Diaz, and hoping that she would be working this weekend at Club D.