Chapter Two
Lunch was already set out for us: a spread of good food––nothing gourmet, but simple home-style cooking, like my mother would have made when we had the money to eat well, which was not often.
Two servings of grilled chicken breast with a garden salad sat on the table, waiting for us to devour it. Mrs Cortez gestured for me to take a seat and sat across from me.
“So, tell me a little about yourself, Lydia. I know you’re one of our hardest workers, but you are ill-used as a junior executive assistant. It’s one step up from an intern, with only a little pay. Why have you not gone for any of the other positions as they became available?” Mrs Cortez asked. She pulled the linen napkin from the silver ring holder and placed it over her lap. I followed suit, finding the touch of the linen soft against my fingers, not overly starched like some high-class restaurants.
“Well, there’s not much to tell. I just feel there are other, more qualified people working there that deserve the positions, especially as they have all been working for you and Mr Cortez longer than I have. It hardly seems fair.”
“If I was going to promote someone on fairness and merit above all, Lydia, you would have been on the fast-track program to an executive position months ago.” Mrs Cortez smiled as one of her house staff arrived and poured two glasses of white wine. She plucked the glass up from the table with delicate fingers and sipped her wine. “You have proven yourself to be an excellent worker.” She placed the glass down beside her plate and cut into the chicken. I followed suit, the smell of it making my stomach grumble at not being fed properly. Mrs Cortez smiled at the noise my body was making.
“Eat, then we will go and have a chat.”
I nodded, trying to be as dainty as I could as I ate my lunch with my boss. Soon, all that was left were the drippings of sauce and vinaigrette from my delicious meal. I hadn’t eaten so well since Christmas at the nursing home with Mom.
Mrs Cortez stood, and guided me through the beautiful apartment to a living room where plush leather black sofas awaited us. She sat down on one, and I nervously settled in on the other. “Now,” Mrs Cortez said with a smile. “I have a proposition for you, and yes, it is unorthodox, and somewhat indecent.” She sighed and looked at me with nothing but an open and honest look on her face.
“I want you to become my husband’s lover, and I would like to watch you and him together, in bed.”
“What?!” I got to my feet. “You want me to be… and you want to watch? You’re kidding, right? This has to be some kind of sick joke.” I stood up and started pacing, running my fingers through my hair. “No, this just isn’t… I can’t even…” I stopped pacing and looked at her. She was serious.
“You’re serious… aren’t you?” She nodded.
“I am, Lydia.” She stood up, and I backed away. “You are perfect. He has even said how beautiful you are. He’s attracted to you… if I may speak frankly, we both are.”
“I… just. Wait! Did you say you are both attracted to me?” I shook my head. “I, just… I can’t… this is too much to take on right now.” I left the living room and headed straight for the front door. Mrs Cortez called out to me to wait, but I couldn’t think straight, considering what I’d just heard … what she’d just asked me to do.
I ran to the elevator. Luckily, the car was still on the penthouse floor. I rode it down to the lobby, wringing my hands as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
My mind was in a daze as I walked back home. It took me hours to get from the rich side of the city to the near-slum where I lived. As I walked up the crumbling and dangerous concrete steps to my apartment, there was a shadowy figure standing next to my door. I reached for my mace: this neighbourhood was really not safe, but it was all I could afford after paying the nursing home where Mom lived. As I reached down, I realised I had left something behind…
“You left your purse behind.” The voice of Mr Cortez reached me as he stepped out into the flickering light of the fluorescent tube above us.
“Th-thank you,” I said, reaching for it. Mr Cortez smiled, making him just that little bit more panty-meltingly handsome, as he handed my purse over. I looked down into the dark depths of my battered old purse, trying not to look directly at the man whose wife had asked me to become her husband’s lover.
“This place isn’t safe for you, Lydia,” he said, his voice soft, smooth and decadent like dark chocolate with salted caramel pieces scattered within.
“It’s fine,” I said, retrieving my key. “Thank you for returning my purse.” I attempted to slide the key into the lock, but my hands were shaking so much. I gasped when I felt the warmth of Mr Cortez’s hands slip over mine, guiding the trembling key into the lock. If that wasn’t innuendo, then I didn’t know what was.
“Donna was serious about you becoming my lover. There’s much more to it than you know. Please, consider this. If you do agree, we will help you financially. You’ll become part of our family.” He leaned in close to me, and I could smell the almost erotic scent of his cologne. “We take care of our family, in all ways.” He lifted a hand and tucked an errant strand of my hair behind my ear. I shivered at the touch, and it got worse when he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against the side of my neck in a barely-there kiss.
“Please, consider it,” he whispered in my ear. I unlocked the door and barrelled in, shutting the door a little harder than I needed to, my heart pounding hard in my chest, my panties wet and my pussy humming with desire.
It had been a long time between bedpartners. I swear, my cobwebs had cobwebs down there. Breathing hard, I walked through my dingy apartment, dropping my bag on the floor by the threadbare sofa that had been my bed until Mom went into the home.
I kicked off my scruffy heels and padded on stockinged feet to my bedroom. My body hummed with a need for sexual release. I went to my bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out the most expensive thing I owned: my vibrator.
I stripped out of my work clothes and lay naked on my bed, my long hair free of the bun I wore to the office. I fanned a finger through the slickness between my pussy lips, thoughts unbidden of Enrique Cortez hovering over me. Strong muscles rippled under his naturally tanned skin as his dark eyes devoured my body, before he swooped down and began to kiss me in secret places that only he knew of. Places that set my juices flowing and my body writhe in desirous need. I reached over to the bedside table and grabbed my vibrator. I clicked the switch and slowly moved it over my body, running the trembling latex sexual toy over my nipples until they were tight and aching for a hot mouth to cover them. I licked my index finger and thumb and took the nipple in between them, slowly twisting and trying to mimic a mouth.
I knew it would be nothing like the real thing. I moaned softly as I let my vibrator wander through the power of my hand down to my tight little clit, my free hand pulling back the hood to expose the nub for my vibrator to torture with explicit pleasures that could not compare to the real Mr Cortez. I whimpered as it moved over my sex, the wetness of my pussy ensuring an easy glide for my expensive little toy, and pleasure that built until I could do nothing but press the damned thing hard against my clit, lock my knees together and writhe out my orgasm, moaning, whimpering and finally screaming into the pillow on my bed until I felt the vibrations slowly dying out with the batteries.
In my post-orgasmic haze, I realised I had moaned out a name as I climaxed.
That name?
Enrique.