completely baffled him was the cheating – why the hell would anyone ever need anything else?
That was then, while Alice was riding him, flushed, her mouth licking his neck, that he came up with the plan.
The plan was simple.
She was after a little break from relationship – she wanted something simple, fun, that wouldn’t hurt her.
He’d give her that. He’d also give her the rest – the texts and phone calls his previous girlfriends had always cried about. The time he could spare. So, when he’d ask for more at the end of all this, she wouldn’t have any reason to say no.
•
Shower sex was uncomfortable as fuck. Yeah, it had been fun, but she’d screamed when he lifted her legs, believing that she was going to slip and fall. Then, there had been the angle where water just wouldn’t stop getting in her nostrils.
That was brilliant. Exactly the kinda stuff she needed to write about.
After finally managing to get relatively clean and dry, Colt and Alice made it to her bedroom; Colt all but collapsed on her bed and she would have loved to join him for a well deserved nap, but there was no point.
She knew without the shadow of a teeny, tiny little doubt that she wouldn’t manage to drift of, not even for one second. Such was the curse of writers, and most creative professionals, really. It was in her mind: she needed it on paper.
By seven, when Colt woke up, she had six thousand words and a pizza in the oven. Six thousand was way too long, probably twice the length of the entire article, but she’d written all of the ideas about the office cunnilingual experience, the first encounter and the shower sex – when it was time to draft the article, she could pick the relevant parts.
She was alerted of his presence by a series of soft, teasing kisses along the back of her neck. God. Talk about a zero to one-thirty in point one of a second. Ferraris had nothing on here: here, just like that, she was ready to go.
Chapter 10
She was genuinely desperate by Wednesday. There was no way in hell he was going to survive Christmas at home, but her mom had been pretty damn crafty this year.
Alice had served her the usual “I might need to work” thing for the third year in a row, so Mara Vaughan had taken things in her own hands.
“I’ve called On Top the other day, dear, and I spoke to the sweetest man… What was his name?”
“Tony?” Alice hazarded; there weren’t that many guys in the office – especially if she’d rang through to her floor: Tony was the only reporter man enough to dare work in such an estrogen powered environment within twenty miles of the city.
“That’s it. Tony. Is he single?”
Oh for Christ’s sake, she was twenty-five! She should at least get half a decade before her mom attempted to pair her up with any eligible guy she spoke to for five minutes.
“No mom. He’s still with his high school sweetheart.”
She didn’t add anything about the fact that the relationship was a couple of hysterical phone calls away from going down the drain; no need to encourage the shameless matchmaker.
“Mh. Anyhow, we got talking; you know Tony is from Chicago? He was asking my opinion on what present he should buy his mother for Christmas. We’re the same age, you know.”
Tony was dead. She was going to gut him slowly, feed him his intestine and then, burry him alive.
“He’s so lucky he gets to go home for Christmas every year. Have you got any news about your request for the holidays, yet?”
Actually, as she’d volunteered – or begged – to work on the previous two Christmases, Linda had all but booted her out, ordering her to forget about work and have a good time.
Alice’s idea of a good time had been getting very berry drunk with her roommates, prankcall people and fuck her way through a box of condom whenever Colt was available.
Now though, she didn’t have a choice; because people were right about her, at least, as far as her mother was
That was then, while Alice was riding him, flushed, her mouth licking his neck, that he came up with the plan.
The plan was simple.
She was after a little break from relationship – she wanted something simple, fun, that wouldn’t hurt her.
He’d give her that. He’d also give her the rest – the texts and phone calls his previous girlfriends had always cried about. The time he could spare. So, when he’d ask for more at the end of all this, she wouldn’t have any reason to say no.
•
Shower sex was uncomfortable as fuck. Yeah, it had been fun, but she’d screamed when he lifted her legs, believing that she was going to slip and fall. Then, there had been the angle where water just wouldn’t stop getting in her nostrils.
That was brilliant. Exactly the kinda stuff she needed to write about.
After finally managing to get relatively clean and dry, Colt and Alice made it to her bedroom; Colt all but collapsed on her bed and she would have loved to join him for a well deserved nap, but there was no point.
She knew without the shadow of a teeny, tiny little doubt that she wouldn’t manage to drift of, not even for one second. Such was the curse of writers, and most creative professionals, really. It was in her mind: she needed it on paper.
By seven, when Colt woke up, she had six thousand words and a pizza in the oven. Six thousand was way too long, probably twice the length of the entire article, but she’d written all of the ideas about the office cunnilingual experience, the first encounter and the shower sex – when it was time to draft the article, she could pick the relevant parts.
She was alerted of his presence by a series of soft, teasing kisses along the back of her neck. God. Talk about a zero to one-thirty in point one of a second. Ferraris had nothing on here: here, just like that, she was ready to go.
Chapter 10
She was genuinely desperate by Wednesday. There was no way in hell he was going to survive Christmas at home, but her mom had been pretty damn crafty this year.
Alice had served her the usual “I might need to work” thing for the third year in a row, so Mara Vaughan had taken things in her own hands.
“I’ve called On Top the other day, dear, and I spoke to the sweetest man… What was his name?”
“Tony?” Alice hazarded; there weren’t that many guys in the office – especially if she’d rang through to her floor: Tony was the only reporter man enough to dare work in such an estrogen powered environment within twenty miles of the city.
“That’s it. Tony. Is he single?”
Oh for Christ’s sake, she was twenty-five! She should at least get half a decade before her mom attempted to pair her up with any eligible guy she spoke to for five minutes.
“No mom. He’s still with his high school sweetheart.”
She didn’t add anything about the fact that the relationship was a couple of hysterical phone calls away from going down the drain; no need to encourage the shameless matchmaker.
“Mh. Anyhow, we got talking; you know Tony is from Chicago? He was asking my opinion on what present he should buy his mother for Christmas. We’re the same age, you know.”
Tony was dead. She was going to gut him slowly, feed him his intestine and then, burry him alive.
“He’s so lucky he gets to go home for Christmas every year. Have you got any news about your request for the holidays, yet?”
Actually, as she’d volunteered – or begged – to work on the previous two Christmases, Linda had all but booted her out, ordering her to forget about work and have a good time.
Alice’s idea of a good time had been getting very berry drunk with her roommates, prankcall people and fuck her way through a box of condom whenever Colt was available.
Now though, she didn’t have a choice; because people were right about her, at least, as far as her mother was
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