The Beginning (7 page)

“mmhhmmm” I reply.

“Good, now relax and enjoy.” He instructs me.

Jonathan moves his mouth back over to mine, and his kiss changes to match the movements of his fingers, long soft slow strokes with them and his tongue. Never pushing the material aside, he stays right over my folds, never quite touching the throbbing little ball that is up higher. He is teasing me; I love it when this man teases me.

His tongue flicks softly in and out of my mouth, and around my lips, I am tortured, I am delving into the depths of wanting and desire to find him. Rubbing up and down he goes, his movements and his tongue charting the course for my body. I can feel him slowly speed up and as he does, I grip his strong bicep through his jacket with my right hand and with my left; I grip the end on the bench, my head starts to feel heavy. Jonathan must feel this and he takes his left hand that is holding my head and leans it back resting on the backrest of the banquette. I match my breathing to his rubbing. I am leaning back, relaxed and I trust him completely, and let him be in control of my pleasure. I hook my right leg over his thigh to open myself up even more to him. I notice that his fingers are now doing a dance, closer and closer to the center of my release and the tease is building inside me, the closer they go, the closer I come to that explosive moment. His movements matching my breathing put him in complete control of my climax and I love it.

His fingers rub faster, harder, and now are hitting my hot spot each time they come to the top. I am now gasping and groaning into mouth while he kisses me, his tongue going faster and still keeping up with his fingers that are about to make me explode all over them. Kissing and rubbing is all I can feel, I am not longer able to control my breathing as he asked. I am very wet and the feeling just makes my panties feel silkier against my center. So soft, so good, please now Jonathan please I plead in my head. He is so tuned into my body that things speed up and this time there is more force at the top of his rub, he presses in harder, and now he stays and circles me in short fast movements with three fingers. He stopped kissing me and is now sucking on my lower lip with full command. Rubbing, sucking, so fast I know I am going to finally give him what he wants from me. He lets go of my lip, and moves back up to my right ear.

“Lenox,” he says hot and breathy in my ear. “You are so ready I can feel it, you know what I want from you. Ready?” and I squeak out a low “yes.”

“Yes what?” he quizzes me.

I know what he wants from me. “Yes Jonathan.”

“Good girl, now, one,” and he rubs harder and faster on my sweet spot.

“two” and circles me with small tighter movements.

“three” and with that he presses his thumb straight and hard into my throbbing spot and I convulse and cum into his hand that is cupping my wetness, and he holds me there firmly while I shake and constrict around his palm. I am spinning and swirling in this free fall and what makes it more intense is the feeling of his hand grasping me tightly. I have fallen.

Slowly I open my eyes and look over at him.

“Hi” he says.

“Hey there” I answer. I smile and he grins. Another moment we share in my pleasure.

“Why did you come back?” I ask him,  “I thought you had to work.”

“Aren’t you glad I did?” he questions me.

I give him a cat that ate the canary grin, “Oh on, I am very, very glad.”

Jonathan smiles a smirk with that right side curled up, he takes his hand from between my legs and brings his fingers to his nose. He takes a deep whiff, never taking his eyes off me. “I wanted to take this sweet smell back to the office.” His smirk grows into a wicked knowing smile. Normally this would embarrass me, but with Jonathan, I am not ashamed and it makes me feel good. “Ok, I really gotta go now” and he kisses my forehead and gets up. 

“Later Gator” I say. Geesh I am a geek sometimes.

He just chuckles at me and leaves our cubicle. I finish the glass I was drinking before he barged back in. I know he is not coming back this time. I gather my things, take a look around, and leave.

When I walk out of the champagne room I am assaulted with loud music and swirling lights. It is a busy night and there are bodies everywhere drinking and dancing. I’m not sure what to do next, but the champagne room manager comes over to me and leads me back to the cashier. “Lenox, my dear good score!” He smiles a cheesy yellow smokers toothed smile at me. “So Mr. Ellis,” he continues, “has taken good care of you.” I smile to myself and wonder if the creep watched Jonathan pleasure me.

“Here is your tip,” and he thrusts an envelope into my hand. “You are done for the night, he paid you off, and he wanted you to take this with you.” He then hands me a bottle of the Perrier-Jouet Rose Belle Epoque 2004 we had been drinking.

“Do I tip you?” I ask creepy champagne manager.

“No, Mr. Ellis did.” Good.

“Ok then, good night.” I head back to the locker room. It is empty, except for Samson who is reading Time magazine on the make-up chair.

“Oooohhhh girl you’re a hot mess, but I can tell you had a good time. Am I right?” Samson asked. I blush as if he can see right through me. “Yeah, I did.” I mumble. We look at each other and grin big grins. I want so badly to confide in Samson, in someone about Jonathan and what is going on. Is something going on? I don’t even know. Common sense takes over and I say nothing. I open my envelope and there are too many twenties to count, so I just hand Samson three of them.

“Thanks Doll. You look beat, are you going home?”

“Yes,” and I hold up my bottle of champagne to show him, “going home to have a drink.”

“Oh girl nice pull.” Samson replies. I walk over to my locker, just pull over my dress, and put on my jeans and t-shirt over everything else. I am too tired all of the sudden to do anything. I grab my new bag, and say goodnight and leave the locker room.

When I get to the front doors, the doorman holds it open for me, and says goodnight. I stood there for a moment decided about which direction to head for the best cab pick up.

“Miss Lenox.” A voice I recognize says and I turn to my right. Marcus.

“Hi” and I walk over to him.

“Mr. Ellis sent me to take you home.” Marcus opens the SUV door.

I smile at Jonathan’s thoughtfulness, and climb in. We arrive quickly at my place, Marcus opens my door, says goodnight and I get out.

Once inside, I decide to draw a hot bath. I feed the sweet kitty I am caring for, and press play on the answering machine. “You have no messages.” I know. I grab the bottle of champagne, and a coffee cup since I have no idea if my sublet-landlord has any kind of flute or wine glasses packed away somewhere. Taking off all my clothes, I climb into the warm lavender bubble bath and relax. I reach over to the toilet where I put the champagne, pop it, but not as gracefully as Jonathan had earlier, and pour some into my coffee cup.

The warm scented water and bubbles encircle me as I lean back and drink. I close my eyes and immediately think about Jonathan. I replay the night, every part, over and over in my head. I am so enthralled with this man. He is strong, sexy, bold, and at the same time tender and gentle with me. What is going on with us? I have no idea. Is this a kind of relationship, are we in a relationship? No, not after two nights. Could we be? Is that possible? Is this something that could actually turn into something? I have never been great at dating, or understanding men. The only thing I do know is that they hate being questioned about things like this. Nothing good ever came after too many “where is this going” questions.

I push that out of my head, pour more champagne, and go back to thinking about our time together. I close my eyes and remember what its like for him to touch me. The skin of his palms connected to my back, his fingers on my face, neck and in my hair. Grabbing and holding onto my hips, pulling me into him so I could feel him and his arousal. I go through each movement in my mind, finally getting to when he swooped back in astounding me, forcefully kissing me, and touching me with those strong fingers. I can feel the stirrings between my legs at this memory and start to move and twitch, rubbing my thighs together under the bubbles. God this man turns me on.

I put down my champagne glass and place my hands under the water. The oil from the bubble bath makes my fingers smooth and soft like his were. I glide them all over my body, into my hair, down my neck, around my throat, all thinking about him and pretending it is Jonathan touching me again. I never used to touch or pleasure myself this often, and now in just two days, this man has turned me into a clitoris-rubbing fanatic. I tried to mimic his rhythm and pressure; I closed my eyes and thought about him. How he looked while he rubbed me, when I had my head laid on the backrest, in a moment of clarity I turned to look at him. I saw him watching my face, my expressions, and me as he ran his fingers over my wetness, and he was smiling. A very sexy, but serene smile. He was enjoying himself, turning me on turned him on. I could see it. I made my way down between my legs and found that same place he rubbed tonight and ran back over and over it. I tried to match my breathing as he wanted, and it got faster and faster and I began to climb into sweet tension. I opened my legs wider and gripped the edge of the tub with my other hand as I had grasped Jonathan’s bicep. His face, that smile, those fingers, I felt my climb almost over with a furious splashing from my hand underwater. I gripped the tub edge hard and bucked forward as I came again for him, “Jonathan” I groaned loudly, “ooohhhh Jonathan,” I whispered as I leaned back to feel the pulsing shocks run over my wet skin and slowly stop. I took a minute to revel in the feeling, and then I climbed out, toweled off, and fell into bed. My last thought is that he called me Kitten; I loved hearing it and how it made my belly do a flip when he said it. I fell asleep deeply and with a smile.

Friday

The next morning, more like afternoon, I got up and decided to go out for a latte. When I looked into my workbag gathering my stage tips, I saw the envelope the champagne manager had given me. I had completely forgot about it last night. I felt the orgasm was payment enough. I pulled the cash out to count it; it came to $940 dollars. I had given Samson 60. That means that Jonathan had tipped me a thousand dollars. Wow. I took two hundred and left.

Deep down I know I hoped to see a black SUV outside my door, but I did not. I grabbed my coffee and a bagel, and popped into the drug store on the corner. I bought new triple blade razors, shaving gel, a clay beauty mask, clear deodorant, a dark grey glitter nail polish, and rich body lotion. I intended to do a day of pampering and close shaving.

I feel smooth and sexy when I get to work. Samson works to make me stunning again. My hair is flat-ironed and straight with a little flip in on the ends. I told him I was wearing white and red, so he did a nude smoky eye, with soft red shiny lips. He called it a vixen look. I looked hot again, thanks to him. Just as I was ready to go out and check in with the DJ the manager raps on the locker room door, and peers his head in. Samson and I stop fidgeting with my dress and look at him; “Lenox, I need a favor.”

“Sure” I tell him.

“We need a girl down at our other club, it’s hopping, and they are short staffed. We aren’t going to be busy tonight with the fight going on in AC, so can you be a dear and go work there tonight?”

NO! I scream in my head, I can’t! What if Jonathan comes in? I have no way to tell him. OMG OMG OMG! The manager must see the panic in my face.

“I’m afraid it’s really more of a command than a request,” he tells me.

Oh. I guess I have no choice if I want to keep my job, and I have to keep my job so I can see Jonathan again. This is going to be the only way I know to see him, so I can’t lose it.

“My pleasure,” I smile. Better to go along and get along.

“That’s my girl, and in return take tomorrow off. There is a cab waiting for you when you are ready.” With that he left the locker room.

I gather my things into my work bag, and Samson gives me a small little make up kit with some powder, lip-gloss, and eyeliner to refresh my makeup. I decide to not change since I am going straight there. Outside there is a cab waiting, and I carefully put myself in as inappropriately dressed as I am, and we head off downtown. If I look shocking to the driver, he makes no notice or mention of it. Nevertheless, this is New York City, I am sure he has seen stranger.

We pull up in front a club that looks a lot less classy than mine. Girls! Girls! Girls! In flashing lights outside the club. Everything is in neon with trashy looking catch phrases. I am afraid of what I agreed to. The cab driver turns to me, “It’s ok miss. It really is. This is just an old club that has been around since they allowed go-go bars in the city. They keep it like this for the history, it’s kitschy.” Kitschy, that word actually relaxes me a bit. As I get out I hand him a twenty.

“It’s been paid miss.” He tells me.

“I know, but this is for giving me piece of mind.” I smile.

“Thank you,” and smiles back at me. “Good luck.”