A
New Lease on Life
by John E. Jay
Copyright 2012, John E. Jay, all rights reserved
Published at Smashwords
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This story contains adult themes and is not suitable for readers under eighteen years of age. All characters in this work of fiction that are depicted engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years old at the time the actions depicted occur. Nothing in this story is intended to depict any person living or dead or any event. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
A New Lease on Life
It was about a week—maybe ten days, I’m not really sure it was a while back and my memory isn’t real good anymore—after I sent the manuscript off to the editor of Erotica in Print—actually I’d just attached a ‘.doc’ file to an email to her no postage and no SARE—when the woman called. When I answered the phone she started asking a lot of questions, it was quickly obvious that she was trying to make sure she had reached the Adam Grandfield who had recently submitted a manuscript for publication. I didn’t understand why she was so careful since she had obviously called the number I’d included in my contact information when I sent her the story. I guess you can never be too careful and she just wanted to be sure of who she was talking to.
Finally she said she was calling about the story I had submitted. I’d figured that out as soon as she said, “This is Amanda Aronson calling. Is this Mr. Adam Grandfield?” I knew she was Editor in Chief, at the small publishing house, Erotica in Print. At least that’s what her title was on the web site. She was actually the publisher for practical purposes so far as I could see. I suppose she could call herself what ever she liked since from what I had been able to discover she owned the business.
Anyway I’d sent my story to her. I was surprised to get a call about the story so soon. It usually took at least a month to hear from a publisher after I sent something to them for publication. I hoped that calling me so soon meant she was really interested in the story, but I didn’t want to get carried away. I admitted that I was the Adam Grandfield who’d sent the story to her but didn’t elaborate. I was interested in what she had to say so I wasn’t going to say any more than I had to.
Erotica in Print is a cutting edge publisher that will accept anything the editor deems engaging and well written. That usually works out to be anything that she believes will sell, either as e-books or print books, but she does have her standards. She doesn’t publish what she considers trash even though there’s a good market for that kind of erotica in some quarters, and a lot of trash does get published. I have to give her credit she’s very good at what she does. Her track record speaks for itself. Almost everything she publishes sells.
From what I’ve read, of what she’s published which isn’t a lot, she’s done a pretty good job of filtering out most the trash. I wouldn’t call it great literature, but it’s pretty good for what it is. She has a very good track record. She seems to have a knack for finding authors who can write erotica that will sell. As the name of her business indicates she publishes only erotica.
As far as I have been able to determine there are no hard and fast guidelines or taboos at Erotica in Print. It looks to me like the editor publishes whatever she likes. That’s my kind of outfit, so I’d decided to send my story off to her hoping she might like it, decide to publish it and pay me for it.
As I understand it, the editor-publisher has a stable of readers—they’re called associate editors I think—who screen the material which comes in, mainly via email. Anything the readers feel is good enough to be worth her time is passed along to the editor. If the editor likes the first paragraph she reads the first page. If she likes the first page she usually reads the whole story and almost always buys it—at least that’s what the people on the erotica publishing forums on the web say.
She’d apparently read all, of my story since she kept mentioning scenes from it and comment on why she liked them. She said, she not only wanted to buy the story I sent to her, she wanted to see more stories as soon as possible. She said she would like to buy more if they were as good as the one I’d sent to her.
In fact, she said, she thought my writing was so good that she would like me to come to San Francisco to meet her and discuss the possibility of publishing a book of my stories in hard cover. She said she had no way of knowing if I had enough material for a book, but, she said, that she knew most authors had a good bit of material they aren’t ready to publish stashed away somewhere and usually some of it was good.
She said she thought that if I let her associate editors go through my stuff they might find enough for a book. She said they could help polish the material for publication. She told me she wanted me to bring anything I had, to San Francisco with me for her editors to read.
If I didn’t have anything, she said, she would commission more stories. One way or another, she said, she wanted more of my stories. She said if you write more stories like the one you sent to me your stuff will sell and we’ll make some real money. That sounded good to me. I wanted my stuff published and I could use the money since my wife had medical problems.
Ms Aronson definitely had my attention at that point. She said she wanted to publish a book of my stories one way or another. I didn’t tell her that I had quite a few stories stashed away on my hard disk. I’d been writing stories for years so it shouldn’t come as a big surprise that I had quite a bit left over after I had published a few, most of them as e-books.
From time to time when the spirit moved me and the muse was with me, I’d burnish one of my stories a little bit. I did that now and then and if the inspiration lasted long enough to get the story into what I thought was salable shape I’d start looking at publishers. I didn’t have any one I liked more than others I’d just send it off to a publisher more or less at random. That’s how I’d happened to send one to her. I’d noticed her name somewhere and on a whim looked at some of what she’d published. I liked what I read so I sent her my latest story. It seemed to have been a good move.
She was still telling me how much she liked my style and how she wanted me to come to meet her. I liked what she was saying, but a nagging little voice in the back of my head was wondering out loud why she was so keen on my work. I told the voice that if she wanted to buy some of my work I was definitely interested. I thought all my work was good, of course, but the little voice said she seemed to be jumping off a bridge without looking down to see where she might land.
I had to admit she’d seen only one story, and I didn’t think it was the best story I’d ever written. That didn’t seem to me like a big enough sample to buy a pig in a poke. Still, she was the editor. It was her call and I certainly wasn’t about to complain. It was her game, and she made the rules.
She said she was convinced that my stuff would sell. She wanted as much as she could get. She wanted me to sign a contract right away. She wanted the right of first refusal on everything I had ever written and whatever I wrote in the future—not just erotica, everything. It sounded like she wanted to own me. She was going much too fast for me. The alarm bell began to ring and the little voice was getting a lot louder—harder to ignore.
I said, “Wait a minute Ms. Aronson, I can’t afford to fly out to San Francisco just like that. It’s one of my favorite places, but I’m not a wealthy man. Besides, when I travel, I like to take my wife along and that’s a large expense when you’re talking about a trans-continental flight, especially on such short notice. They charge you practically double the price if you don’t book way ahead.
“I don’t know if I can come, anyway. I have a lot going on here right now. Helen’s not real well and I don’t know if it would be a good idea for her to go that far away from her doctors at the hospital here. We like to stay right here so if she needs something we can just go to the hospital.”
She didn’t slow down a bit, “Don’t worry about the expense, Mr. Grandfield. It’s all on me I want to meet you and it’s a business expense. I’ll send you a first-class ticket for the United, Dulles to San Fran non-stop next Wednesday afternoon, flight 915. It leaves a little before 5:00PM.
I’ll reimburse the ground travel expenses and parking at your end too. I’ll take care of your ground travel at my end personally. I’d like to have two days with you, but your wife could fly out, on the same flight Friday, for the weekend if she wants to and assuming the doctors think it’s Ok.
“If things go as well as I hope they will, I’ll reimburse you for her flight and a weekend stay for the two of you at a nice hotel. Of course I’ll cover your hotel expenses for Wednesday and Thursday night. If you’re as good in person as you seem to be from your story, I’ll even throw in a rental car for the weekend. If you’re going to be my next best selling author, nothing is too good for you. I don’t stint when it comes to an author who I think will make a lot of money for me.”
I was absolutely floored. This woman didn’t know me from the man in the moon, and here she was talking about spending money like she could pick it up off the ground wherever she happened to be standing. The alarm bell was still ringing and now, the little voice was frantically shouting inside my head, ‘For God’s sake, listen up, Adam: This is all way too good to be true, so it almost certainly isn’t. It’s got to be some kind of scam to get you to give her money. Be careful don’t fall into the trap she setting.’ I guess you could say I was beginning to listen to the voice of reason.
Let’s just say I was quite skeptical. I was becoming convinced there was no way on earth she could possibly be real. She had to be some kind of con artist, who had probably never been anywhere near San Francisco. She just might be trying to get me to buy the Golden Gate Bridge.
I didn’t say anything, but I was thinking real hard. I wanted to believe her, but I didn’t want to get skinned. Still, she had called my contact number and she knew I had sent in a story....
“Mr. Grandfield?... Are you there, Mr. Grandfield? Don’t hang up Mr. Grandfield. I really like your work and I think I can help you make a lot of money if you’ll work with me.... Mr. Grandfield?”
I decided to take a chance and give her a chance. I broke in and said, “Lady I don’t know who the hell you are, but I’m no fool. If you’re trying to con me some way or other you might as well hang up right now, I’m not going to pay you a single red cent, and I’m not going to stay on the phone any longer. I’ll call you back, that is if you really are Ms. Aronson, Good bye.” She was pleading with me to stay on the phone with her as I hung up.
A little while later, I called a number I’d found buried down deep in the Erotica in Print website and asked if Ms Aronson was in. The girl who answered the phone said, “Oh yes, she’s here all right, Sir, but at the moment she’s pretty angry. Some guy she wants to publish really set her off. She asked him to come out for a meeting and he hung up on her about five minutes ago. She’s still fuming. I don’t think she’ll take your call right now. She’s not taking any calls. Why don’t you call back in about half an hour when she’s had a chance to cool down some?”
“Don’t you worry young lady; she’ll take my call all right. Just tell her the guy, who hung up on her just now, called back. Tell her Adam Grandfield is on the phone asking for her. She’ll take the call.”
Ten seconds later a very huffy Ms. Aronson said, “Hello Mr. Grandfield. That was very rude. I’m not in the habit of...”
I broke in, interrupting her, “Ms Aronson? I’m very sorry to have upset you. I’m not usually so rude, but you sounded much too good to be true. I had to be sure you weren’t trying, to some how, take what little money I’ve managed to scrape together away from me. I’m convinced now that you’re the real Ms Aronson. I apologize for hanging up on you. That was very rude. I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.
“If the doctors think Helen will be Ok for a couple of days without me watching her, I’ll try to make the Wednesday afternoon flight. No promises all kinds of things could mess up my plans, but I’ll try my best to be there. That is if you still want me to come?”
She had calmed down remarkably, and switched back into sales mode. “Of course my offer stands, Mr. Grandfield. I have to admit you really put me off by hanging up on me, but I can see why you might have been suspicious. I guess did come on pretty strong and I am offering you a lot out of the blue, so you had a right to believe I might be setting you up for a scam. I’m really glad you decided to check me out though. I think we could have a very productive and profitable relationship. I hope were going to like each other enough to get along socially as well. I like to get to know my authors. I believe it’s possible to combine business and pleasure.
“I hope you’ll be able to come on Wednesday. I promise you won’t be sorry if you do. Maybe we could have dinner somewhere and get acquainted, if you would like. I’m really looking forward to being with you Wednesday night.”
“Well, if you really want me to come, like I said I’ll try to make it that is if Helen will be OK. Thanks Ms Aronson. Nice talking to you. If things work out I’ll see you Wednesday. Goodbye.”
“Oh, I certainly do really want you to come Mr. Grandfield. I hope you can make it Wednesday. Thank you for calling back Mr. Grandfield. Goodbye until Wednesday. See you then.”
* * * * *
She hung up and stood with her hand idly resting on the phone in its cradle. She felt moisture in the crotch of her panties, she was becoming aroused. “Oh my, I think that came out a little too eager and breathless. I wonder if he picked up on my sexual interest in him.” She said softly under her breath. She thought about the double meaning of her ‘I certainly do really want you to come’ response, and smiled to herself. She hadn’t intended the double entendre. It just came out, and she’d had to work hard to suppress a chuckle when the double meaning registered right after she’d said it.
She chuckled to herself. The sub-conscious mind was always in charge behind the scenes. It always knew what you really wanted to say. She began to think of what she wanted to do with this new man who had her so worked up over his erotic writing. She wanted to see if he could deliver.
She tried to get her mind back to what she had been doing before she decided to call the new author, but she couldn’t get him out of her mind. She surely hoped he’d come—many times deep inside her tight little pussy. His prose had turned her on so much that she had to see if he could deliver, in person, some of what he’d put into the sex scenes in his story. She was looking forward to living a few hot paragraphs of his story—maybe a few pages if he was really good in bed.
She caught herself and said to herself, ‘I better be careful, I’m getting too turned on remembering his story. I’ve got to be careful what I say to him. I don’t want to scare him away. He’s already a little unsure about what I’m up to. He’ll probably bolt if he realizes I want him to fuck me as part of the interview process. I do want more of his work I’m sure it will sell very well, but more than that I want him to fuck me all night Wednesday night. I hope he has the stamina to last all night.’
He wouldn’t be the first new author I’d bedded. I like to sample my authors. When a really good story comes in I try to meet the author. If the chemistry is right and things go my way he’ll wind up in bed with me at least once and a lot more than once if he’s really good the first time.
None of them has turned out to be a long term affair so far but I enjoyed several of them for a few months before a better one came along. They don’t all go along with me of course. Some of them turn me down flat and a few have left in a huff and refused to let me publish their work, but you’d be surprised how many of them take me to bed and enjoy me. I’m pretty persuasive and not at all bad looking either, if I say so myself. I suppose I may be a little past my peak at thirty-two, but I’m still more than holding my own.
* * * * *
United flight 915 from Dulles arrived at the gate in San Francisco at 7:35 PM a few minutes ahead of schedule. Since I was in first class and had only my laptop and a small carry-on bag, I was off the plane, through the terminal, past the baggage claim area and the rental car counters, and outside to the ground transportation pick-up area by around 7:45. A uniformed driver eyed me for a minute or two before coming over and asking if I might be Mr. Adam Grandfield. When I admitted that I was, he took my bags and escorted me to the black Lincoln Town Car waiting at the curb.
She was seated in the back of the limousine wearing a low-cut, mid-thigh length, black silk cocktail dress that exposed an ample portion of her beautiful breasts and hugged her supple torso like a second skin. It was hiked up exposing nearly all of her very shapely legs. I got a pretty good glimpse of the crotch of what I thought were black panties when she moved toward me slightly and very slowly and deliberately re-crossed her gorgeous legs just as I leaned down to get into the limo. I was shocked that she was so bold. I wasn’t used to women who were confident enough of their sexuality to deliberately display their crotch for me to view.
I can’t be sure but it looked like she was wearing black panties. It’s hard to say for sure since she’s a brunette and the light wasn’t real good down there between her thighs. She wasn’t anywhere near as careful about keeping her thighs together as she should have been in that short hiked up skirt. It was pretty clear to me that she didn’t want to hide her crotch from me.
I couldn’t be sure but it really seemed as if she had intentionally given me a rather good peek up her skirt. The more I thought about it the more I was sure she had intended to show me her crotch. That conclusion led me to wonder why she had decided to show herself to me. She was an unknown quantity in so many ways. I was afraid I had gotten in over my head already.
She was surely dressed to kill and I was getting the feeling that I was her quarry. I began to wonder just what game I was in. I would have to be very careful or I’d be in big trouble. I knew she was making the rules, after all she had the money and I understood the golden rule—she who has the gold makes the rules.
I sure didn’t want Helen to ever get wind that I was alone with this tempting vision of loveliness in the back seat of a limo. I knew I was in over my head and only God—and Ms Aronson—knew what was in store for me. It felt good, I had even felt a twinge in my crotch when she opened her thighs and I saw her crotch but I knew it was dangerous. I didn’t want to hurt Helen.
Ms Aronson was looking directly into my eyes when I raised my gaze from her crotch and maneuvered myself into the seat beside her. I was sure she had noticed that I’d taken a good look up her skirt. She was all-smiles, squeezing my arm against the side of her right breast while welcoming me to San Francisco. She obviously wasn’t at all offended that I had taken the opportunity she’d offered to look at the crotch of her panties. That supported my deduction that she had wanted me to look up her skirt.
Her manner reinforced my impression that she had intended to show me her crotch. I was getting a little excited even though I felt guilty about it. I had never cheated on Helen and I wasn’t about to start now—besides I’d been impotent most of the time since my prostate cancer operation. I blame it on the lupron injections before the surgery, but I don’t really know the cause for sure.
In spite of my resolve, I felt a stirring in my private parts thinking of that quick glimpse of black between her shapely thighs. I could see it was going to be hard to say no to this lovely woman if it came down to it. My mind was in turmoil. I wasn’t about to cheat on Helen, but I couldn’t deny that I was responding to this beautiful woman. I suddenly realized that my cock was beginning to get stiff. My god I couldn’t believe that could be happening.
She broke into my thoughts, “It’s a little early for dinner... but then I suppose you’re still on east coast time aren’t you? Do you want to go to dinner right away, or would you like to go by the hotel and change first.” I was suddenly very conscious of my rather seedy, rumpled appearance in stark contrast with her chic, very put together, look. When we stopped at a traffic light I could see by the street lights that not a hair was out of place and her make up was perfect. She looked like a model. I couldn’t tell how old she was, but she was certainty very well preserved if she wasn’t as young as she looked.
I said, “I can wait; I ate plenty on the plane. The airplane food isn’t so bad in first class. I’d like to go to the hotel and clean up. I need a hot shower to loosen me up after that long sit.” If I’d been honest I’d have said I needed a cold shower to cool me off, since my mind was running away with the bit in its teeth. It was making up fantasizes inspired by that little strip of black fabric down there between her thighs that she’d so boldly shown to me. She leaned forward and spoke briefly to the driver. He sped up a little and soon took the ramp to get onto the freeway heading north toward San Francisco.
I was feeling more comfortable and decided it couldn’t hurt to chat her up a little, try to get on her good side after all I wanted her to buy my stories, so I said, “On the phone I had the impression you were a fire breathing dragon. I thought you’d be a lot older. I was picturing a hard driving business woman at least forty. You’re not at all what I was expecting.”
She smiled, “Well, if you were expecting a bitchy forty-something, I hope I’m a lot better than what you were expecting. I’m not going to let you see that side of me but I won’t deny the bitchy part. I will, however, hotly dispute the other part. I’m not even close to forty.... How old do you think I am? Don’t be afraid to say what you really think. I really want to know.”
“To tell you the truth, Ms Aronson, ever since I laid eyes on you, I’ve been wondering how on earth a twenty-something could have gotten to the top in a publishing house—even a small one. I would bet money you’re less than thirty. I suppose, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re around twenty-four or five, maybe twenty-eight absolute tops. How’m I doing?”
“You’re doing wonderfully well, Adam. You’re wrong, but not by very much if I take your top guess and you erred in the right direction.” She paused and smiled at me for several long moments melting my resolve to resist her charms and then said, “I recently turned thirty-two. Thank you for being kind. I hope you weren’t just saying what you knew I’d like to hear.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I was outrageously fishing for a compliment and you had to lie to avoid upsetting me. I’m not sensitive about my age. Maybe when I’m forty I will be, but not yet.”
“I meant what I said Ms Aronson... No way was I lying to make you feel good— not that I wouldn’t if I had to, but I had no need to. God’s truth there is no way I would have believed you were over thirty. I didn’t really believe the twenty-eight. I just threw that in to cover a little wider span since you seemed to be hinting that you were older than I thought you were.
“The light isn’t good enough to be sure but I would have lost money, because I would have bet a lot of money you were less than thirty. I’m not kidding. I really took you for a twenty-something hottie, but it’s not so bad that you’re a thirty-something hottie. I can live with that just fine.”
“Thank you again, Adam. I love to hear that, it pumps up my ego—as if it isn’t already bloated enough! You wonder how I got to where I am so quickly. That’s a fair question. The answer is, I’m not a self made success.” She paused and then went on. “That didn’t come out quite right. I am a success in my own right, but I was given a good running start.
“My parents opened this publishing house―under a different name of course―before I was born and I began to work here before I was old enough to go to kindergarten. I empted the waste paper baskets, sharpened their pencils and did whatever else they asked me to do. It was a two-man shop in those days, and I guess I was the office boy and gofer.
“When it was time to go to college, I knew I was an English major. There was never any question about that. I’ve always loved words and grammar. I won a few spelling bees too.
“When my parents retired I was fortunate enough to quickly find my niche. After a few years I changed the name and I was able to grow the business a good bit. I seem to have a wonderful ability to recognize good smut when I read it. I just seem to know what will sell well. I’ve made a lot of money for a number of authors—and for myself—in the nearly ten years I’ve been running the place on my own. I believe you’re my next hot author—in more than the business sense I hope.”
I didn’t know what to make of that, but the words, and the look she gave me when she said them, reinforced my feeling that she was up to a lot more than she was telling me about straight out. The voice inside my head said ‘You better be real careful Adam my man. She’s a lot more woman than you can handle. You’re not in her league. She’s a very experienced sophisticated lady.’
* * * * *
The car slowed down slightly and took the freeway exit for downtown. The driver expertly maneuvered through the busy end of rush hour traffic. Eventually he edged over to the curb lane and turned into the entrance driveway of the Hotel Divana on Geary Street, just off Union Square. I wasn’t familiar with the hotel but it looked pretty upscale to me. The building was the epitome of post modern design, with glass and stainless steel everywhere. I thought Ms Aronson must have money to burn. It looked like she was successful all right if she could afford this place.
The doorman took my bags from the driver and called for a bell man. Ms. Aronson said, “No need for a Bell Hop. We’ll be able to manage, thanks. Just hold the door please.” She smoothly slipped a ten dollar bill into his hand. I couldn’t believe the way she seemed to be able to just throw money around. I’d never tipped a doorman ten bucks in my life. Hell I’d never tipped anyone ten bucks.
The doorman smiled like he’d just met his best friend and held out my bags to her. She took the computer bag from him and led the way into the hotel. As she disappeared through the revolving door, the doorman’s smile turned to a look of confusion as he held my carry-on out in front of himself and looked at me.
I grabbed the carry-on from him and followed Ms. Aronson, admiring the view of her trim but well rounded behind. I was captivated by the petite, brunette ahead of me confidently leading me into the hotel. She was about five-foot four or five and her heels added another three or so inches. She had all the right curves in all the right places, and not an ounce of flesh anywhere that didn’t contribute to the total package. The snug silk cocktail dress showed her body off to great effect. She was positively stunning. I thought she’d look even better without the dress.
Her slightly wavy, black hair was styled into an up do with curled tendrils hanging down on each side neatly framing her beautiful face. It show-cased her even features and very smooth fair skin. I’d noticed her light blue eyes in the car, and the way they held mine when she looked at me, made me want to do things to her that I’d sworn to myself I’d never do to any woman but my wife Helen. Thinking of Helen sent a pang of guilt through me and I told myself I shouldn’t be thinking what I was thinking. I had to leave this beautiful woman absolutely alone.
The vision of loveliness ahead of me quickly bypassed the registration desk, pranced straight to the elevators giving me the full treatment wiggling her gorgeous hips exaggeratedly, entered a elevator that was waiting, pressed the top button and held the door for me. When we arrived at the VIP floor, she produced a key card and opened the elevator door. I followed her down the hall and she opened the door to a lavishly furnished large corner room with windows on two walls and a king sized bed. She ushered me inside, looked around and nodded her head in approval. “I thought this would do nicely, don’t you agree Adam?” She smiled at me as she handed me the key card.
I thought to myself that it was much more than I needed or could afford. I put the card in my pocket and dropped my bag on the bed. “It’ll be just fine, thank you. It’s really a lot more than I expected. I’d have been fine with a room at the Holiday Inn or even Motel6. I’m not used to fancy digs like these.”
She gave me a dazzling smile and said, “I like to give my guests the best and I think this is a good example of what San Francisco has to offer. Actually it isn’t really as expensive as it looks and my entertainment budget can easily afford it. I have an arrangement with the hotel. I give them a good bit of business and they give me a special rate. Why don’t you go ahead and start your shower. I’ll fix us some drinks. What would you like? There’s bourbon, Scotch, gin, vodka.... I think there’s even tequila here.”
“A little Jack, black on the rocks would be nice, if it’s available,” I said. I thought to myself that a drink was the last thing I needed. I’d had two Jack blacks on the plane and two glasses of red wine with the surprisingly good, rare New York strip steak. The food in first class was not bad at all.
“I’m afraid there’s no Jack Daniels here Adam. Will Maker’s Mark 46 be Ok? It’s the only bourbon they have here. I think it’s pretty new. I haven’t tried it yet, but from what I’ve heard and read about it it’s supposed to be better than the original.
“I’m not a bourbon expert but the original Maker’s Mark was really good bourbon in my opinion. I think I’ll try it. Is it Ok or do you want me to call room service and get you a bottle of Jack Daniels black label? I’m sure they can get one up here before you finish your shower.”
“Don’t bother to call; the Maker’s Mark 46 will be fine. I shouldn’t be surprised it goes with the territory. This is a posh hotel. Anyway, it’s real good stuff. A friend of mine, who’s a total bourbon freak, gave me a taste right after it came out. I hadn’t even heard of it at the time. It’s way out of my price range, I think it costs something like $35 for less than a quart, but if you’re buying, it’s fine. I think I’ll go ahead and take my shower first though, if it’s Ok with you.”
I opened my bag and took out some clean underwear and my only good suit, the one I wore to weddings and funerals. I’d brought it with me to wear to the meeting with Ms Aronson in the morning. I wanted to make the best impression I could. I carried my clothes into the bathroom. I didn’t want to get them damp but I couldn’t very well get dressed in the bedroom with her in there.
The hot water felt really good and I relaxed quickly. I began to think that what I really wanted was to somehow get Ms. Aronson out of the room, call Helen and see how she was, tell her I was Ok and then crawl into bed and get some sleep. It wasn’t late but I was tired from the flight.
I was stunned when Ms Aronson opened the shower door and handed me a short, heavy tumbler about half full of an aromatic, dark amber liquid. I took a gulp, then leaning out of the shower, I accidentally brushed against Ms. Aronson who was standing right in front of the shower door, well inside my personal space. I managed to set the drink on the vanity without touching her again but I wasn’t so relaxed anymore. Now I was very embarrassed and really keyed up. I was also very aware of the beautiful woman I was with. I said, “Oh I’m sorry Ms Aronson I didn’t mean to bump you.”
She gave me an impish look and said, “I don’t mind if you touch me Adam. Please excuse me. I know I’m awful. I’m just never able to resist temptation. I had to take a look. I’ve seen it all before, of course, but I really like what I see. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you but I had to check you out. I wanted to see what you had to offer and I have to tell you, I’m favorably impressed.
“I’ll wait outside...” She made no move to leave the bathroom. Instead she leered at me and said “Unless you’d like me to join you in there.” She gave me a look that said I could have her right then if I wanted her. Then she giggled and said, “Oh Adam, don’t look so uncomfortable, it’s awfully bad for my ego.
“You’re supposed to want me so much you just grab me and pull me in there with you!” She looked at me with a frown and a fake-pout on her face. The look said she wasn’t serious and she said, “Don’t worry Adam, I’m only kidding you, the water in there would do an awful number on my hair I can wait till you finish. I’m going to take your clothes out of here so they won’t get damp.” I didn’t know what to think about that but she had already seen all of me so I decided it wouldn’t matter if I had to dress in front of her. Actually it didn’t look much like she was going to let me get dressed.
She turned on the vent fan and closed the bathroom door as she left. I was surprised at how easily I accepted the idea that I was going to have to get out of the shower and go into the bedroom naked to get my clothes. I was embarrassed but my embarrassment was more than a little tinged with lust. I knew I was badly out of my element, and almost completely out of control. This beautiful young woman obviously had plans for me and it sure looked like those plans involved getting me in bed with her very soon. I began to enjoy that thought.
When I turned off the water and opened the shower door, she opened the bathroom door and came in. She was looking directly at me and I saw her eyes take me in from head to foot lingering at my genitals. She was smiling and I thought she was pleased with what she saw.
The mischievous smile on her pretty face was about all I could see of her since she was holding a very large towel out in front of herself. I understood the mischievous smile when she wrapped the towel around me revealing herself in front of me. I saw that she’d shed her dress. She was barefoot and was wearing only a pearl necklace with matching earrings, a skimpy black lace bra and a tiny black lace thong to match.
She was wearing panties after all! They were very small low riding panties—little more than a thong—but her pussy was covered if only barely. There was a snug little pouch covering her pubic mound visible down there, peeking out from between her very shapely thighs. She was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. I was right she looked even better without the dress.
I couldn’t help noticing that the tight little pouch looked very wet where it was holding her pussy between her thighs—it looked like she was lubricating quite freely. That aroused me even though I was still trying to resist the notion that I was going to have sex with her. I was still striving to be faithful to Helen even if it was becoming more and more obvious that Amanda had a very different opinion about what was going to happen between us. She clearly had an agenda and it was looking like she was going to have her way with me. I wasn’t in control and I knew she wanted sex.
She beamed at me and said, “Come on out of there and let me dry you off. Then we can have another drink, or you can have me instead, if you’d rather. I hope you’d rather have me. In fact I don’t really care if you’re dry. I wouldn’t mind getting wet. I’m already pretty wet down there. It wouldn’t matter if you get it even wetter. In fact I’d like for you to get it dripping wet and the sooner the better.”
I must have looked puzzled because she said, “I mean the crotch my of my panties is already very wet down between my legs where my pussy juice is leaking through. It’s been wet since before you got into the car with me at the airport. I’m ready and I want you to fuck me Adam but if you want to play with me and get me even wetter I’d love that. Just don’t take too long. I’m ready! I’ve been ready since long before I met you at the airport. I’ve been reading your story over and over and it turns me on so hard I can hardly stand it. I want you to fuck me Adam.”
“My God Amanda, I don’t even know you. I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I don’t cheat on my wife. I never have and I don’t intend to start now.
“I’ve never had sexual intercourse with any woman other than my wife Helen in my whole life. Besides, I’m just about completely impotent. I very seldom manage to get a real erection. I can’t even get half-hard very often. I’m afraid my erectile function is nearly non-existent.
“I’m sorry if I somehow misled you. I didn’t intend to. I’m really sorry Amanda. I just don’t know what to say.” I felt like a Damn fool. My words actually sounded sincere but I wasn’t even convincing myself. I was becoming more and more aroused in spite of my resolve to refuse her.
“Well, maybe you don’t fuck other women, but I know you at least look at other women when they give you a chance. I gave you a chance for a good look up my skirt at the airport. You didn’t look away, so I felt confident that the evening was going to work out pretty much as I had planed it. Anyway, sexual arousal is almost completely in the mind so don’t worry I think I’ll be able to get you hard.”
She came to me and put her arms around me. She took the towel off me and rubbed my chest and belly with it. Then she gave my crotch the full treatment and I felt stirrings that I hadn’t felt in a long time. After she was satisfied that my genitals were dry enough, she wrapped the towel around my shoulders and pressed her nearly bare breasts hard against my chest. She held herself against me and I could feel her hard nipples through the thin lacy fabric of her bra. Then she slid her practically naked body down the front of me as she wiggled the towel down my back, all the way to my ankles. “Isn’t this a nice way to dry your back?” she purred as she looked up at me.
At that point her face was right in front of my crotch and my almost completely limp cock was dangling down, only two or three inches in front of her face. I felt something beginning to grow down there and started to wonder if she really could make me get hard. I wasn’t sure I wanted her to get me hard, but what she was doing felt so good, my resolve to resist her was eroding rapidly. I was beginning to think the unthinkable. I tried to will my cock to stay limp but it wouldn’t.
She leaned forward a little, took my cock in her mouth, and started stroking my testacies gently with her fingertips. I gasped as she fondled my scrotum and began to groan every time she took my cock deep into her mouth. Before long I was amazed to realize that I was rapidly responding.
I was already nearly half-hard and still growing fast. I felt a tightness in the area between my thighs, back behind my scrotum, that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Miraculously my prostate seemed to be up to something. I hadn’t had a real erection in almost two years but it felt like that was about to change. This young woman was special. I was well on my way down a very slippery slope and in spite of my stated resolved to resist, I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to.
Soon I was fully erect! It was truly a miracle! The tightness just behind my scrotum was kind of throbbing now and I said, “I think you better stop Amanda! I’ll come in your mouth if you don’t stop right now!”
I knew I was lost. I wanted to fuck her. I said, “I can’t stand much more of your mouth on my cock without coming. You have to stop Amanda! I’m going to come if you don’t stop right now!”
“Muumphfitt ...” She let my stiff cock slip out of her mouth and it stood out in front of me covered with her saliva. She smiled up at me and said, “I won’t mind if you come I don’t want to stop. If you come in my mouth I’ll just get you hard again. I know I can do it. We’ve already proved I can get you hard, but I’ll stop if you’re ready to fuck me. Do you want to take me to bed and fuck me now Adam? I’m ready. I want you to fuck me, otherwise I’m going to suck you off and swallow your cum. Then I’m going to get you hard again. I’m not going to stop until you’re ready to fuck me.”
“God help me, Amanda, I’m ready. I want to fuck you right now. I want you so much I can’t stand it. I can’t believe you got me so hard. It’s the best erection I’ve had in years. I want to fuck you Amanda.”
I panicked and said, “Oh God, Amanda, I don’t have a condom. Do you have any? Maybe we could ask the front desk to send a bellman up with a pack. I don’t want to fuck you without protection. I don’t want to take a chance I’ll get you pregnant, Amanda.
“I can’t ejaculate anymore. I can still have an orgasm, but I don’t produce any cum—actually sometimes there’s a drop or two—and I may leak a few sperm and they might be fertile.” She had her mouth on my cock again and was taking it deep into her throat I moaned and said, “Oh God Amanda, you have to stop sucking my cock if you don’t stop I’m going to come in your mouth and I’ll lose my erection. I don’t want to lose it. I want to put my stiff cock in your juicy pussy and fuck you Amanda!”
She let my cock slip out of her mouth again and said, “Don’t worry Adam, we don’t need a condom, I’m using birth control and I’m sure I’m clean. I’m assuming you’re clean if you’ve only been with your wife.” She looked at me with a stricken expression and said, “Oh god I’m so sorry Adam, I didn’t mean to mention her.”
She smiled at me and said, “It’s Ok. I want you to fuck me without a condom. I want to feel you as much as I can. I want to feel your cock moving inside me. I don’t want anything between us. I want your skin to be touching my skin. I want skin to skin.”
She reached back and undid her bra while I peeled her panties which were stuck to her pussy where the crotch was saturated with her juice off over her beautiful ass. I began to fondle her breasts and she reacted by pushing herself against my hands. I leaned down and took one erect nipple in my mouth. She moaned and shuddered. I nibbled on the hard nipple and she let out a sharp yelp of pleasure mixed with pain. Then she said, “Keep doing that Adam. My God, it makes my pussy clench hard and it feels so good. I think I’ll come soon if you keep doing that.”
I kept sucking and nibbling her nipples until she pushed my mouth away and came up on her tiptoes. She held my face in her hands and looked into my eyes. I saw that her pupils were dilated. She breathlessly said, “I want you inside me Adam. I want your cock inside my pussy right now. I can’t wait any longer.” She was trying to get my now very stiff cock inside her very wet pussy but she couldn’t get high enough. I wanted to enter her so I reached down, grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her up. She rotated her pelvis forward so her pussy was against my cock.
Lifting her legs up she locked them around my waist and her arms were around my neck. She was hugging her breasts tightly against me and pulling me against herself with her legs. I put my arms around her and held her with her breasts tight against my chest. Her hard nipples were boring into my chest arousing me even more. I didn’t think it was possible but feeling her hard nipples pushing against me made me want to fuck her as hard as I could. It made me want to suck her tits too. I decided I’d fuck her first.
She raised her hips and pushed away from me far enough to reach down and guide my cock into the entrance to her pussy. Then she lowered herself on my cock and got the head inside herself easily, moaning as it entered her. She moved up and down slightly several times and soon got me all the way inside herself without much difficulty. She began to move up and down on my cock purposely and I held her ass with both hands supporting her weight and helping her move up and down.
Even though my cock isn’t really huge, it was large enough to make her pussy a pretty tight fit on it and we were getting really good friction as she moved up and down my shaft. Her silky pubic hair was rubbing against my belly adding to my excitement and I knew her clit was getting teased by rubbing against my pubic hair. Even with her juice flowing freely I could feel a lot of resistance each time I thrust up into her as she came down. It was really good—much better than any sex I’d had in a very long time.
It occurred to me that it had been many years since I’d had sex with Helen standing up. I felt a pang of guilt as I thought of Helen. I knew I shouldn’t be enjoying this young woman the way I was, but the pleasure was so great that I blocked out the guilt. I knew I would probably feel remorse when it was over, but in the moment I felt only bliss. I wanted her so much I didn’t care about anything else. I was captivated by her beautiful body that was giving me so much pleasure.
She began to moan and make a sharp little yelping sound each time I went all the way up inside her tight pussy. I tried to go all the way in with every thrust, since that seemed to be good for her. Judging by the steady stream of encouragement she was uttering I thought I was doing it the way she wanted it.
She repeated a litany with small variations over and over as I rammed into her as hard and deep as I could, “Oh yes, Adam! That’s good Adam. Yes! Keep going in real deep. I like that. I love the feel of you all the way inside me and I like it when you bump against me when you go all the way in. Yes Adam! Yes! ... Yes! ... Yes! ...”
Suddenly her body tensed and she said, “Oh god! Go in me really deep Adam. Oh yes! Keep doing that and I’ll come in a minute or two. I can feel my orgasm beginning to build already.
“I’ve never come this quickly before. Oh God it’s sooo good, Adam. Keep doing that. Oh yes! Yes! ... Oh Yes! ... Oh my God! Yes Adam. Oh yes! Oh Adam! Oh Adam! My God it’s so good Adam. Don’t stop. Keep doing it hard Adam. Oh God, it’s so good Adam. Oh my God! I love it when you go deep up inside me, Adam. I want your cock inside me as far as I can get it. I love the way you bump against my clit hard when you go all the way in. Keep going! I want it! I want you to come inside me!”
I did my best to go all the way into her and bump her hard with every thrust. It was hard to fuck her the way she wanted it while holding a lot of her weight with my arms. The way we were coupled, I couldn’t get as much force into my thrusts as I wanted, but I did my best. She was getting a lot of force by lifting herself up and then slamming herself down, impaling herself on my very stiff cock. She was getting what she wanted without much help from me. Even though she didn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds my arms were getting tired and my legs were getting pretty rubbery. I knew I couldn’t keep it up much longer.
She was moaning louder and louder, and her yips were getting louder too. I knew she was getting close and I wanted to make her come. I increased my tempo and almost immediately she screamed and her pussy clenched hard on my shaft as her orgasm took control of her whole body.
She gasped out, “Faster Adam. Please fuck me faster. Fuck me as hard and fast as you can Adam. Go in me deep and jam your cock up against my cervix. Oh God That’s it Adam! Oh... My... God! Ohooooooo Goddddd.” Her whole body convulsed and her pussy clenched repeatedly for nearly a minute. Then she began to slowly relax. I slowed my pace but kept thrusting into her.
“Oh God Adam! That was really good. I haven’t come like that in so long I can’t remember when. I love it when I can come like that with a man’s hard cock thrusting way up inside me—deep inside me. I can’t always come just from intercourse—from penis stimulation alone—but rubbing my clit against your belly really helped get me off in a hurry. With some men I have to ask them to eat my pussy and play with me for a long time before I can come. I love what you did for me. Keep fucking me hard Adam, I want to come again and I want you to come inside me. Keep going!