The idea is exciting, even if he's only joking. Obviously he doesn't really want to take me on a date. It's ridiculous for me to even think there's any truth to this little game he's playing.
But it's fun, I can give him that. So I’ll play along.
'I have a meeting in the morning, but we can do lunch, maybe a walk on the beach. We can explore the city too, check it out together.'
Is he actually serious?
Squeezing the phone tighter, I'm not sure what to say. That is a pretty serious answer to a playful question. I was just kidding.
'You're joking, right?'
'I guess you'll have to wait and see. See you tomorrow, Perri.'
Setting my phone down on the coffee table, I pluck at my bottom lip. I feel all warm and fuzzy, excitement flowing through my veins as I think about actually having lunch with Kent.
He's so damn hot. Those muscles, that smile, those eyes. . .
My fingers move gently down my chest, touching my nipples lightly. They're tender, and a shiver scales down my body as I brush my fingertips up and down the stiff peaks. Closing my eyes, I let him take over, he can rule my mind and my body safely in this space.
If I let him have me in my mind, then maybe I'll have enough strength to not be affected by him tomorrow.
Slipping my hand under my shirt, I pinch my nipple as I slide my other hand into my panties. I'm wet, my panties are warm and slick, and my clit is throbbing.
Images of Kent flood my mind, coming fast and furious. His hands all over my body, tracing down my sides, moving over my ribs, rubbing over my breasts. His lips taste my skin with greedy kisses and a hungry tongue.
I dip my finger into my entrance, and slide it over my clit, ever so lightly. Teasing myself to make this last. I can get myself off in seconds if I wanted to, but I want to savor these dirty thoughts, make it feel real. So I apply just a bit of pressure and rub in small circles, feeling myself getting wetter as I do. With my other hand I rub circles around my nipple, until it’s so hard I pinch myself, letting out a slow hiss. I imagine what Kent would look like, watching me as he turned me on. My finger in my panties is so slippery now there’s no friction at all. How would Kent react, dipping his fingers inside of me and finding me so wet for him? I see him sitting beside me, his dick straining against his shorts. The look on his face is a combination of pain and want and desperation.
With my eyes closed tight, I let my imagination run wild. I put two fingers inside myself, and imagine him feeling me, so tight around his fingers. How he’d want to replace his fingers with his shaft so badly. My vag squeezes involuntarily at the thought. I’d whisper to him, “Do you want this, Kent? Do you want me?” And he’d be so lost in my heat and his desire that he’d simply nod, wordlessly telling me everything I already knew. My fingers pump inside me while I rub the pad of my thumb over my clitoris. Finding just the right rhythm that I know and love. The whole time I see Kent behind my closed eyes.
Right now, I'm his.
My own touch is sending shock waves up my belly, and across my chest. Faster and faster I work, thrusting my fingers in deeper, pressing harder, and forcing my body into overdrive.
I imagine reaching over to him, placing my hand on the growing bulge in his shorts. The total relief that would wash over his face as I trace a finger up and down his length. How hard he’d get as he finger fucked me, wishing so desperately that it was his dick rather than his hand between my legs.
Two fingers quickly turn into three, stretching my walls as I picture Kent taking out his cock and splaying me wide open on the couch. He slides in with such ease, and I’d stretch for him, devouring every inch of his thickness. As needy for him as he is for me. He’d take my ankles in his hands and bang me wildly. Taking what he wants. I see his shaft disappearing inside me, the strain on his face, and my own fingers match the pace I imagine. Harder, faster, deeper. I can feel the orgasm as it bubbles in my stomach.
It's building, growing, making my thighs tremble, and clamp around my wrist as I finger myself into a blissful escape. Every stroke draws soft, almost non audible moans, but my body is alive.
Electricity is flowing through my veins, snapping and crackling like a burning inferno. I'm hot, buzzing from head to toe as my body finally lets go. The orgasm bursts from inside, exploding with such power my head snaps back, and I let out a loud moan.
I'm shaking, my thighs are trembling, and I just let the feeling take me away.
I stare up at the ceiling, wondering if that orgasm was enough to get these ideas out of my system. A little release so I can do what I need to do. Professionally. Because Kent is off the table. I need to understand this. Not only is he my dad’s business partner, but he’s now my client. My first client. My most important client.
Laying down on the couch, I stare up at the ceiling, and drift off to sleep.
Tomorrow will be easier.
It has to be.
3
Perri
Pulling up to the beach house, Kent's car isn’t in the driveway, and I'm able to let out a sigh of relief.
Oh thank God.
The tension in my hands go slack as I let go of the steering wheel. The entire drive here I was afraid to see him. My heart was in my throat, my stomach was in knots, and my palms were clammy and slippery.
The fact he's not here means I can relax now. The tension melts off of me, and I'm no longer this ball of anxiety and nerves.
I thought giving in to my desires last night would help make me feel better; that it would satiate my desire for him, and I'd be back to normal today. But he invaded my dreams last night. My unconscious mind taking over my fantasies from where I’d left off, and I woke up this morning wet and wanting more. I regret letting him into my head like that. I should have resisted. I’ve opened up Pandora’s box.
I'll just go in, do what I came here for, and get the hell out.
My hope is to quickly move through the tasks I was meant to do before his arrival yesterday and get out before he even comes back. I may have missed my opportunity to be professional yesterday, but I’ll make up for it today. In and out before there’s any temptation or opportunity to screw this up.
Opening the small pool house in the backyard, I take out the chemicals I'll need to treat the water, and the net to clean it. My father wanted to hire a pool company, but we've had a pool my entire life, so we don't need to hire someone else to do it. This way, I can be useful and save him some money. That's one of his points, he doesn't want to lose money, so why throw it away when I can do it for him?
The pool cover is still on, so I walk from end to end, unclipping the hooks from the concrete anchors. The sheer nylon cover falls flat against the water, and I drop to one knee, sticking my hand in the water to scoop some into the tester.
I'm determined to do everything right, and it starts here, today, a fresh start from a late arrival. The water needs chlorine, and it also has a green tint, so I grab the algaecide too. Measuring out what I need, I set it down on the patio.
The cover is moving across the surface of the water as the wind blows in off the ocean. Reaching out, my fingers are close, just not close enough, to grab it. I reach again and almost lose my balance, but I grip the cement with the pads of my fingers, and quickly throw my body up straight.
That was close.
I change tactics and grab the pool net. I’ll use the handle to try to hook the cover. I extend the pole, attempting to reach the cover, taking a few stabs at the water but barely making contact with the cover. I can't get it, it's just out of reach. I move my feet to the edge of the pool, my toes dangle just over the edge. I’m balancing delicately, but I finally get the end of the pole on the cover, and pull it close enough to the edge of the pool so I can grab it. I throw the net to the side and drop down, leaning over into the water. My fingers swipe the slippery material, but I miss it. Shit. Why is this so hard? Stretching again, I pinch the thin material with the very tips of my fingers.
“Come on,” I sa
y to myself, annoyed that this is becoming more difficult than I expected.
Giving it a tug, there's a little resistance from the weight of the water that's seeped across the surface, and it causes me to teeter on my toes. Throwing my arm out, I attempt to regain my balance. My arms flail, and I the world around me seems to slow down. My body is falling forward, the ground is gone, and somehow my body twists so I'm looking up at the sky. The cold water shocks my system as I hit it, and my chest seizes up. I try to inhale a big breath of air before I go under, but I can't. Instead, ice cold pool water floods my mouth and goes up my nose.
Thrashing my arms, I can feel myself sinking deeper and deeper. The pool cover, just seconds ago out of reach, is now tangled in my arms and pulling me down below the water. My arms are useless as I try to swim my way to the surface, and the blue sky disappears as the cover floats over my face. I twist around, trying to extricate myself, but the more I struggle the more confused I become. Which way is up? Which way is down?
Suddenly my chest is on fire. I need to breathe, but I can't. I can feel my lips starting to peel apart, and in my head I'm begging them to stay closed.
Don't open! Don't do it!
No! This isn't happening! This can't be happening!
Now I’m panicking. There’s no strategy to get to the surface, just frantic movements, trying to wrestle off this sheer nylon that’s wrapped around me. My fingers grab and pull, but the pool cover is like a cocoon, wrapped tightly around me. The seal of my mouth finally breaks, and water gushes in like a crashing wave. It fills my mouth and my nostrils and begins to slip down my throat.