CHAPTER EIGHT: Nick

Even though I was exhausted and a little drunk, I didn’t sleep well. I made it back to my place around two and stripped off my clothes and fell naked into bed without taking a shower. Though I passed out quickly, the movie of Fiona and I fucking in the restroom at The Haven Club kept looping through my mind. I could taste her pussy on my lips. I could smell her juices and sweat on my cock and fingers. I woke up several times with throbbing boners that I knew my own hand couldn’t satisfy. I tried to masturbate, but it was no good. It was as if my cock was saying “sorry, dude, this one’s not for you”. I finally got tired of tugging on it and just fell back asleep.

When the sun coming through the twentieth-floor wall of windows woke me just after eight, I kicked off the covers and stretched out my limbs and yawned. I glanced down at my cock, which was still sleeping flaccidly against my leg. The motherfucker keeps me up and night and now he wants to sleep? Son of a bitch.

I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, pausing just long enough to brush the muck off my teeth and glance in the mirror. I looked as worn out as I felt. Thankfully, it was one of the rare Saturdays when I didn’t have anything scheduled, so I’d just take a shower, make a pot of strong coffee, and maybe go for a run to shock my body back into rhythm.

I turned on the shower and the bathroom quickly filled with steam. I stepped under the water and backed into it, letting the jets beat against my stiff neck and shoulders. I closed my eyes. There she was again. Fiona Kassidy with a K, the little black dress hiked up to her waist and pulled down over her tits. Her moist pussy glistening, begging to be licked. Her full breasts bouncing on her chest.

My cock stiffened again, so hard I could feel the blood pumping through it. I soaped up my right hand and leaned my left hand against the wall to steady myself. As my imagination took me back in time, my hand milked my cock in rhythm to my thrusts in and out of Fiona’s tight pussy. Slowly, steadily, I quickened the pace until my balls tightened and I felt the cum flowing toward my cock. I stood on my toes and moaned as I came, shooting long ropes of cum on the Italian tile shower wall. I milked my cock until the orgasm passed, then lowered my feet to the floor and opened my eyes. I leaned back to let the hot water sluice down the crease of my abs and over my cock and sighed. Maybe I would not have a leisurely Saturday after all. Maybe I would spend the day searching for Fiona Kassidy.

* * *

I felt much better after the shower and the release of tension through my cock. My entire body felt more relaxed, refreshed. It’s amazing what a good jacking off can do for you. I pulled on a pair of raggedy jeans and a black Polo, grabbed my laptop and padded barefoot it into the kitchen. As the coffee maker filled the room with the aroma of strong Columbian coffee, I set the laptop on the bar and checked my email. Jenna, as usual, had already gone through my email and filtered out everything that didn’t require my personal attention. I scanned the emails that had made it past Jenna’s filters. There was nothing that needed my immediate attention, then I saw the reply from Jenna regarding the background check on Fiona.

I opened the email to read her quick reply. Will run a full background check first thing Monday. Have a nice weekend. J.

I turned away from the computer for a moment to fill a cup with the strong coffee. My stomach growled at me. I opened the cupboard and pulled down a box of strawberry Pop Tarts. Jesse always made fun of my fetish for strawberry Pop Tarts. I basically lived on the damn things when I was too poor to buy real food. It didn’t matter how rich I became, I never lost my lust for strawberry Pop Tarts. The difference now was that instead of a box Pop Tarts having to last a week, I had an entire cupboard that held nothing but strawberry Pop Tarts.

I sat back down at the computer and ripped open the Pop Tart. I didn’t bother toasting them. I preferred them cold. I bit one in half and turned back to the laptop.

“All right, Fiona Kassidy,” I said, opening a browser and typing her name into the search bar. My finger was just about to tap the Enter key when the doorbell rang. I glanced toward the front door and frowned. I lived on the twentieth floor of one of the most secure buildings in the city. Protocol was that visitors remain in the lobby until the front desk guards called up and asked if I’d like the visitor to be let upstairs. Only those on my list of approved visitors could come up without announcement, and that was a very short list that included Jesse, Jenna, and the Russian twins.

I set down the cup and dusted crumbs off my hands as I went to the door. I peered through the peephole. What I saw made me smile. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Well, this is a surprise,” I said, giving Fiona a look up and down. She was wearing jeans, a short-sleeved red top, and tennis shoes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was fresh-faced, wearing very little makeup. She was holding a box of Krispy Kreme donuts.

“I wanted to apologize for running out on you last night,” she said, holding up the box. “I was hoping you’d let me explain.”

“Nothing says I’m sorry like a box of Krispy Kreme donuts,” I said, sniffing the space between us. The smell of freshly-baked donuts filled the air. My eyebrows went up. “Assorted flavors, I assume.”

“Of course,” she said.

“Cream-filled?”

“Duh.”

I stepped aside and held out my hand.

“I just made coffee. Come on in.”