Intermission (4 page)

thirty minutes ago. You've
never
late, so what's wrong? Are

you sick?"

"Nine-thirty?" Lisa sat straight up in bed, shoving her hair

out of her face. "Oh, shit."

"Better get moving, girlfriend. Staff meeting at ten,

remember?" Glory and Lisa worked for the same marketing

company, with a boss who didn't like surprises or deviations

from routine."

Shit!

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Intermission

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"I'm on my way. Tell my secretary I had an early meeting

I forgot to put on the calendar. Please, Glory. I'll hurry."

She slammed down the phone, threw back the covers and

swung her legs out of bed. And stopped. Had she really gone

to bed with all her clothes on? Well, not quite
all
of them, she

realised. Only her skirt and blouse. Her lingerie, including her

pantyhose, lay in a neat pile on her little slipper chair. She

still wore her skirt and blouse and all her jewellery. When she

steadied herself on her feet, nearly every muscle in her body

screamed in protest, and erotic images flashed through her

mind like a DVD on fast forward.

Wait!

What the hell

Where is Jake? I know for a fact I brought him home with

me.

She looked wildly around for the man who had taken her

through a wild night of unbelievable sex then gentled her to

sleep. Hadn't he?

Hadn't he?

She yanked the covers to the foot of the bed, as if

expecting to see Jake hiding there. Then she searched the

nightstand and her dresser for some sort of note or reminder

that he had actually been there. That she had in fact truly

brought him home with her from
Danny's Pub,
the noisy place

where
Interlude
was supposed to be. She remembered

meeting him as clearly as if it had just happened. His dark

good looks. His eyes that flamed with lust. His cock that she'd

ridden and then ridden again. And again. No way could she

have imagined it.

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Intermission

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Impatiently, she yanked open the drawer to the nightstand

and pawed through all her toys. None of them looked as if

they'd been touched. The damnable feather still lay in its case

exactly as she'd placed after the one time she'd used it.

Everything was just the same. She chewed on her bottom lip.

It just was not possible she'd imagined the entire evening.

Not when her body told her differently.

She stretched out her arms and turned in a slow circle.

Nothing. She was losing her mind. That had to be the only

answer. Except neither her ass nor her pussy agreed with her.

They felt completely well-used. And she knew for a damn fact

she hadn't gone to sleep in her clothes.

Her eyes landed on her bedside clock. Damn. She'd better

get to work and worry about this later. She just hoped she

could keep herself focused today.

Showered and dressed in a suit and silk blouse, she was

just heading into the garage when her phone rang. She was

tempted to let the machine pick it up but realised it might

have to do with work.

"Hello?"

"I'm calling with a weather report." The deep voice sent

shivers down her spine. "You might want to take your

umbrella. It's going to rain today."

The conversation ended, and just like that, her fresh

panties were soaked and her nipples hardened enough to

almost poke holes in her brand new bra.

* * * *

Intermission

by Desiree Holt

Lisa didn't know how she made it through the day. All

during the staff meeting, she kept staring out the window,

waiting for the firsts fat drops of rain to splatter against the

big windows. Finally, her boss interrupted himself to ask her if

he was perhaps boring her. That grabbed her attention for a

while, but back in her own office, she found it almost

impossible to concentrate on her projects, especially when the

rain finally made its appearance, invoking a strong feeling of

anticipation.

Lisa operated on automatic pilot as she ploughed through

the day. She was thankful for the pile of work that didn't take

much brain power. Glory stopped by twice to check on her,

even asking her if she wanted to go for a drink after work.

"Thanks, but I...have plans."

Glory's eyes lit up with mischief, and she arched an

eyebrow. "Oh? It wouldn't happen to be with whatever hunk

made you late for work today, would it?"

"I overslept," Lisa said, eyes on her desk. "Plain and

simple."

"There's nothing plain and simple about it, Lisa," Glory

objected. "You never, ever oversleep. I don't remember a

single day before now that you were late for work."

"I said I overslept," Lisa said then was instantly contrite

when she saw the hurt look on her friend's face. "I'm sorry,

honey. I just have a raging headache."

"I'm sorry I pushed. Go home and take some aspirin."

"Good idea. I might do just that."

Finally,
finally
, it was five o'clock. She shut down her

computer, gathered her things and rushed for the elevator.

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Elbowing three other people aside, murmuring, "Excuse me,"

she managed to jam herself into the car just before the doors

closed. As soon as they hit the lobby, she rushed outside,

grateful to feel the raindrops kissing her skin and dampening

her hair.

Yes!
She wanted to shout and clenched her fist to keep

from high-fiving a nonexistent person. She hurried the few

short steps to the recessed doorway, and there it was. The

heavy oak door with the discreet sign,
Interlude,
atop it. She

pulled open the door, holding her breath as she did, and took

a step inside.

This was it! The place! She wouldn't find Jake here, but

maybe Mark...

A hand touched her elbow, the heat of the fingers burning

separate imprints through the nubby linen of her jacket. She

felt each one individually etching itself on her. How had she

lived without this touch for six long, miserable week?

"I was afraid you wouldn't get here." Mark's voice wrapped

itself around her.

And just like that, the moment he touched her, the lust

surged to the surface, any lingering inhibitions disappeared

like smoke, and she was overtaken with an urge to strip

herself naked and expose herself to the rest of the patrons.

What
was
it about this place, anyway? Or did Mark have some

magical touch that turned her into a completely different

person?

"I've been waiting." She looked up into Mark's sensuously

handsome face, her knees suddenly weak and that familiar

flutter setting up in her cunt.

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"How could I not?" she asked.

"I have our regular booth reserved." He nodded towards

the far corner. "But I think you're way overdressed."

He unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it from her

shoulders. She felt every little nub of the unlined linen as it

slipped down her arms. Then he did the same with her silk

blouse, the whisper of the sheer fabric like a caress against

the sudden gooseflesh rising on her skin. Almost like a lover's

caress. She stood exposed in just her apricot lace bra, aware

that a number of eyes had turned to her and looked at her

with mild curiosity. Lisa was rooted to the floor, unable to

move forward. Mark kissed the nape of her neck, his lips

imprinting themselves on her, then trailed his lips along the

column of his neck. While she lost herself in the sensations he

created, he casually reached around and thumbed open the

front clip of her bra. Her breasts were swung free, the nipples

contracting. Mark palmed her breasts, and she heard an

appreciative murmur hum through the room.

"Let's get to our booth." His breath was warm against her

ear.

But as he walked her through the crowd at the tables, he

paused now and then to allow others to touch her breasts and

pinch her nipples. One woman, a lascivious look in her eyes,

closed her mouth over one nipple and sucked it hard. Lisa

shook from the sensation and never would have made it to

the booth without Mark's steadying hands. But at last they

were there, and she slid into the sequestered area, Mark

following her. He signalled the waiter just before he pulled the

curtains closed.

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"I've missed you," he told her, his voice thick. His hands

caressed her breasts, his thumbs chafing her nipples.

She trembled with need, the person she thought of as the

other
Lisa, the uninhibited exhibitionist, quickly taking

possession of her. She arched into his touch, a low moan

vibrating in her throat.

"You could have called," she told him. "Like you did today."

"Ah, but I have to call at the right time." His hands

kneaded her breasts. "Did you like having all those people

looking at you? Touching you? Tell the truth, angel face."

"Y-yes. I did."

"Remember what it was like in the private room?"

Oh, god, did she. He had promised to fulfil her every

fantasy, and they had barely gotten started. Then the

weather had hit a dry spell, and she'd been edgy and horny

and praying for rain.

"Yes," she said again. "I do."

"We're going in there again tonight, angel face. But first

we have to get prepared."

The curtains parted, and the waiter from her previous

visits smiled at her. "Nice to see you again, Miss Graham."

"T-thank you," she told him.

"I think he'd like to see all of you," Mark said. "Let me help

you stand up here."

He shifted her to the end of the booth and lifted her to the

seat.

Lisa wasn't shocked by the conversation. The very first

time she'd been here, after two drinks had completely relaxed

her, not to mention Mark's attention to all her erogenous

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zones, the waiter had crawled beneath the table to play with

her pussy and cool it by inserting ice cubes into it.

Ice cubes!

That reminded her of Jake and last night. That was, if last

night really happened and hadn't been some weird erotic

dream she'd conjured up. She wished there were some way

to find out for sure, but she didn't think tonight was the night

to pursue it.

The waiter ran his hands appreciatively over her shoulders

and arms and caressed her breasts, his eyes glowing with

appreciation. His hands dropped to the waist of her skirt, his

fingers warm against her tummy as he popped open the

button. She heard the slide of the zipper, felt the arousing

slither of the fabric as it brushed her thighs and pooled at her

feet.

Mark lifted each foot one at a time to free the skirt. Then

the warm fingers were back again, rolling the whisper of

nylon down over her thighs and her calves until her

pantyhose and thong were gone, too. A few deft movements

and she stood naked before the two men.

"She's a prime piece," the waiter said, all but drooling.

He slipped his hand between her thighs, rubbing the edge

of his fingers through her slit. "And very, very wet"

"You shaved again," Mark said, touching her naked mound

himself. "You know how much I like it." He looked at the

waiter. "Would you like to peel back her lips and see her little

clit peek out?"

"Oh, yes," the man nodded. "Please."

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Intermission

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He was gentle as he open the lips hiding that hot little nub,

bent his head and flicked his tongue over it.

Lisa had all she could do to keep her balance, trembling as

she was. Mark, seeing the effect the waiter had on her, put

both strong hands on her hips and held her firmly in place.

"I've got you," he murmured then looked at the waiter. "I

think that will be all for now."

The waiter licked his lips. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He

removed a box from his tray and placed it on the table. "As

you requested, sir." He backed away and closed the curtains.

Mark lifted Lisa in his arms and placed her on the seat,

then lifted her drink and put it in her hand. "Something cool

and refreshing, angel face. Vodka stinger, right?"

Of course, it was. She was sure that first night he'd

memorised everything about her and hadn't forgotten a thing.

"What's in the box?" she asked, curiosity getting the better

of her.

"Aha!" Mark's gleamed as he saw the avid look in her eyes.

"A few toys for us to play with."

He flipped back the cover and lifted out a string of plastic

beads, graduated in size, with a handle shaped like a cat's

face. Next to it he placed a bullet vibrator—small, shiny and

powerful, reflecting the dim light of the lantern on the table.

And finally three butterflies linked by chains.