A Kink in Her Tails (18 page)

Brian doubted she had the time for a daily jog, but knew she was always on the move. These were not the legs of a couch potato.

She leaned on one leg and bent the other at the knee a little in an unconsciously wanton pose.

“Brian, this is okay, I guess…but would it sell a sex toy?” She was trying too. He could almost see her teeth clenching as she fought for control. Oh yeah, he was getting to her. He’d fulfill a few dreams and get her naked today, or his name wasn’t Brian…umm…whatever. She leaned against him even more.

He clamped down hard on his glee.

“Of course, babe. Mind you, you’d have to be wearing less…” He tugged at her tunic. “This is not the costume you’d be wearing for the photo…”

She snorted. “I know that, thank you very much. And that’s another problem right there. I don’t exactly have over-developed assets, you know.”

This, thought Brian joyfully to himself, was almost
too
easy. “Well, now, let’s see what we have here…” He slipped his hands around Adele and gently cupped her breasts, doing his best to ignore her gasp.

“Hmmm…34s I’d say, maybe a B? No wait…” He hefted her breasts in his hands, making sure that he got a good rub in over the nipples he could feel hardening beneath the soft sweater.

She sucked in air and struggled to keep her face from revealing the arousal he knew was shimmering through her.

It matched the one that was playing hell with him.

“Maybe a C…whatever they are, they’re perfect.”

She snorted. “Maybe for some things, but the cover of a sex toy box probably isn’t one of them.”

“Good God, Adele, why not? It’s not like people are so ecologically aware that they’re going to save the packaging and jerk off to it later. That’s what girlie mags are for. In fact, this particular type of box is probably the most hastily disposed of wrapping around. Would you want your mom or your roomie to know you had just opened up your ‘Vibrating Bunny Plug’ or your ‘Rabbit Warren Plunge of Ecstasy’?

Would you?”

Adele shook her head. “I guess not. Although it’s sad in a way. All my hard work and it gets shredded within a minute of delivery.” She sighed.

Which did nice things to Brian’s libido seeing as he still had two hands full of her breasts as she did so.

“Okay. So it’s settled.” With a sigh of his own, he released her breasts. He was harder than he could remember being since his teens, he wanted nothing more than to fuck Adele until her eyes rolled back in her head and they both passed out, but she’d not given him one single indication that she’d be willing to endorse that plan.

“You set up the shoot, and I’ll go get changed. We’ll start with the ‘Titillating Tuxedo for Two,’ I think.” He turned hurriedly so that she wouldn’t see the hard-on distorting his jeans.

She staggered a little on her heels and quickly kicked them off. He caught a glimpse of a wet shine on her inner thigh.

Well all right. She was turned on too. He grinned painfully as he made his way through the kitchen, grabbed the little mini pouch that was to be his costume and headed for Adele’s bathroom.

Quickly. He had a date with his hand before he could face her again.

Adele took refuge in her cameras, trying in vain to find some measure of calm as she went about the business of setting up her shoot.

Her heart was still thumping painfully, and her ears were ringing, a sure sign that she was in serious trouble. She had a major bonfire of lust built up for Brian McMillan, and he was doing every damn thing right to ignite it.

She stopped twiddling a lens cap and wondered why. She’d felt the hardness of his body against hers and the hardness of his cock against her butt. Her almost naked butt.

She’d been within a hair’s breadth of reaching behind her, unzipping those damnably tight jeans of his and impaling her ass on the cock she knew would erupt from that fly of his.

God, it would have felt good too. She shivered once again as she remembered how long it had been since she even mentioned that she enjoyed that particular sexual activity, let alone permitted anyone the privilege.

But Brian? Hell, he could do her here and now, right in front of her 105 f/2.5 lens. All he had to do was say the word and she’d be ass up and ready for him and here’s the lube.

Dear God. What was happening to her? Where were her scruples about being older than he was? And what the hell would he think if he came back out of that bathroom to see her forty-year-old backside spread for his pleasure?

Okay. Forty-one-year old backside.

She snorted to herself and put the lid on her sexual urges. The hormones that had worked their way back up to a boot scootin’ boogie a little while ago were told to go away and behave themselves.

She reminded herself of her age, her dignity, the fact that her breasts sagged, and that Brian was the handsomest man for several hundred square miles or all the contiguous states, whichever came first.

He was simply psyching her up for this damnable shoot. He was a good friend.

He knew how important her career was, and her reputation for never missing a deadline. He was clearly doing everything in his power to help her keep that reputation intact.

The fact that his touch sent a fiery shiver down her body to her clit was in no way his fault, and the fact that she was wet for him and hungry for him was a simple reaction of female hormones for male hormones.

Yeah. Right.

Adele sighed, facing the horrid truth. She lusted. In her heart and her cunt, and all the way to her toenails, she lusted.

She wanted Brian McMillan in the worst way, and the best way, and all the ways in between. She had since he’d kissed her, uncounted years ago. But she was also much older than him. She was the one who would have to be in control of things. Even if, by some remote and heaven-blessed chance, Brian did find her slightly attractive, it was up to her to squash any hint of anything between them.

It would be by far the best for both of them. Brian was young and had a great future ahead of him. She was…not. Her future was set. She’d turned forty. Gravity, wrinkles, menopause and death lay ahead.

She sighed.

Shit, life sucked.

Brian walked into the room. Life suddenly got a whole lot better, and shrunk to the proportions of one very small, very tight, very black, male pouch, sporting a teeny tiny bow tie. It was worn by a very nice, very naked, Brian McMillan.

Who was also wearing
that
smile.

The one that made her undies melt, the one that the camera loved, and the one that women were known to sigh over, cry over and post on their refrigerator doors to remind them that there really
was
something worth giving up chocolate for.

The one that said, yeah baby, I’m yours, and it’s gonna be sooooo good between us.

The one that she was going to have to work very hard to resist.

She jumped as she felt something smack her brain. Literally. Something inside her brain had just upped and smacked her and reminded her that she could have this if she wanted. All she had to do was go for it.

Her eyes feasted on the gourmet meal that was Brian, and her body sang the Hallelujah chorus. Slightly off key.

“So, if you’re set, why don’t you go get changed, and I’ll set up the spares?” He’d just spoken to her in Swahili.

“Huh?” Adele wrenched her mind out from between his legs and stared at him.

His grin got even bigger. “Go get changed. Shoo…” He motioned her off with his hands. His lovely, well shaped hands. Hands that could caress and squeeze and…my God it was getting hot in here.

“I’ll set up the spares. Adele.” He waved a battery pack in front of her rapidly glazing eyes. “The spares?

”

“Oh.” She jumped and blushed. “Sorry, yeah. Okay. Um. Why don’t I just go and change then.”

“Yes. Do that.” Brian chuckled to himself as he turned away, giving her a glimpse of his perfect backside.

She couldn’t help it. She moaned.

Then she turned and ran.

* * * * *

Brian breathed deeply, filling his lungs as she left the room, scurrying off to change and taking her legs with her.

He’d taken care of his immediate problem as soon as he’d reached her bathroom, and he hadn’t needed a girlie mag for it, either. Just the quick flashback onto the feel of her breasts in his hands, and the taste of her luscious buttock beneath his tongue, and he was spurting and coming like a kid.

He’d stifled his cry, biting his lips as the spasms eased.

But the need hadn’t gone away with the erection. The need for this woman was still there, and he didn’t quite know what to do about it.

As he took a very quick shower and dried off in one of the towels she always left for him, he pondered the question.

Adele was divorced, he knew that. No children, no close family any more. She was a very self-contained woman, independent, intelligent, talented as all get-out with a camera, and well liked by everyone.

He knew she wasn’t dating at the moment, and wondered if she did much at all. God knew
he
thought she was gorgeous, but
sh
e seemed to have a real case of negative body image going on.

Then there was the age thing. He didn’t give a shit, but it seemed to worry her.

Brian placed the spare batteries for the remote behind the chair they’d be using during the shoot. Usually they’d go next to the camera, but this time, he wanted everything within reach. If he got up close and real personal with Adele, he was damned if he was going to let a little thing like a dead battery bugger it up.

Somehow he had to convince her that age didn’t matter. That the feelings between a man and a woman were what was important, not what page the calendar was turned to.

Brian narrowed his eyes as he realized suddenly how very true that was. Some of his friends were still acting like they were in high school, while others could have been grandparents or seniors for all the life they permitted themselves.

What the hell did chronological age have to do with any of it? It was what was in the mind and the heart, and yes, the cock and pussy, not what was in some mathematician’s mind as he devised a system for measuring the passage of the planting seasons.

Adele Martin was a beautiful desirable woman, who rang his chimes with a vengeance.

She had done since that night he’d claimed her in the front hall of his apartment way back when.

Her lips beneath his and her body pressed against him had become one of his most cherished memories.

Ever. The special nature of that moment had become even more clear as time passed, because not one other woman had come close to giving him the sensations that Adele had roused in him with her kiss.

When he’d met her again a few years ago, and they’d begun their professional association, he’d thought his comfort level with her was because she was an “old friend.” That he could relax before the camera and let his feelings out without being self-conscious about it.

Now, however, he faced the truth.

He’d been seducing this woman in the only way he knew how for the past several years.

He’d let his body talk to her through her camera. He’d let his smile woo her and encourage her to tell him her secrets. He’d let their brief but regular meetings act in lieu of dates, skipping the awkwardness of dinner, and sliding right into knowing where her bathroom was and what was in her fridge.

He wanted Adele Martin.

And she had looked at him a few moments ago like she could grab a spoon and eat him whole.

Just the thought of those words stirred his annoyingly responsive cock back to life, and that was not good.

Not good, because Mr. Eveready was wearing the penile equivalent of an itsy bitsy teensy weensy whatever, and if he decided to show off by growing up a bit, he’d be blatantly obvious to all and sundry.

Meaning Adele.

He wasn’t sure if he could subtly seduce her while sporting a hard-on the size of Long Island that was barely covered by a scrap of black silk. Of course, it would be an impressively formal hard-on—it did have its own bow tie.

Brian rolled his eyes and tried to re-establish control over his lower body. If he wanted Adele, and that was “
really”
wanted her, then he’d better come up with a damn good plan.

Today was a great start. He had the next couple of hours with her, up close and personal. And he’d make sure they got
very
up close and
very
personal.

Then he’d persuade her to take him to Eve’s wedding as her date. That meant coming back here afterwards. That meant that he stood a damn good chance of finally getting where he wanted to be.

Which was between Adele’s long, lovely legs. Her long, lovely,
naked
legs.

And he was planning on staying there for a long time. A real long time. Perhaps, he mused, forever.

* * * * *

Adele Martin’s mind repeated the litany over and over again as she searched through the packaging for something else to cover her nakedness.

She had a tiny black thong, complete with little white shirtfront and a couple of fake rhinestone studs beneath its bow tie. She had a white collar, also with little bowtie that fastened like a choker around her neck.

She had a complex strip of fabric, which was supposed to be the top.

The top to
what
she couldn’t imagine. Small enough to stuff into a thimble with room to spare, a doll would have felt underdressed in it.

She snapped it behind her and fastened the thin strap to the collar. Her breasts rested nicely on the tiny boned platforms and she even managed a little cleavage. What she didn’t manage was any covering for her nipples at all.

They just sat there. Quite comfortably, all things considered.

Adele rummaged once more through all the plastic bags, hoping against hope that she’d missed something, anything, that would hide her breasts just a tiny bit more. How could she possibly face Brian, let alone run a series of poses with him, looking like this?