Chocolate Attraction

"You have a nine-thirty meeting with the board of directors about the six-percent projected increase in the fiscal budget, an eleven o'clock meeting with the legal team about the impending lawsuit form the Marks Corporation, a lunch meeting with Harry Thompson about his transfer to the Hong Kong office, and a two o'clock conference call with the regional managers from LA, Seattle, Atlanta, and Miami."

I could hear my secretary, Salina, calling out my schedule, but I was looking beyond her out of the floor-to-ceiling window. She had welcomed me at the door, cup of steaming cappuccino in her hand, just like she did every morning. She was an appealing black woman, tall, charming, beautiful caramel skin, with a flawless smile. The only thing that was flawed was that she always seemed so stressed out. I often wondered why she let her job as an executive assistant get to her so much. Granted, I was stressed out all the time as well, but I had much more to lose. Unlike me, Salina earned no more that $39,500 a year no matter how well she performed her job.

I looked up at her momentarily, standing firm like she was preparing for a military drill. "Salina, can I solicit a personal question?"

A nervous expression crossed her face, making me wonder if she was afraid of me. We were the exact same age but had never bonded. I was the vice president of corporate development, making 200K a year plus bonuses.

"Sure. You can ask," she responded.

"Do you ever just go out and have a good time?" I asked as I redirected my eyes to the window. There wasn't a cloud in the powder blue sky. "I mean, hang out with friends, party, have a good time, and let your hair down?"

Salina chortled. She was glowing at the thought of it. "Yes, my close friends and I all hang out then go to Spirit on West 27th Street on Thursday nights now and again."

"Thursday nights?" It was my turn to chuckle. "You go out on Thursday nights, Salina?"

Salina nodded her head and smiled. Then she sat facing me across the desk from one of the leather chairs. I don't even remember the last time she had actually taken a seat in my office, other than to take dictation. I was delighted. It felt relaxed; two ladies having a casual tête-à-tête.

"What about you, Tatianna? I mean, Ms. Ivanov."

"Tatianna is fine," I responded. "There is no need to be so formal all the time."

"Thanks."

I didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted by her thank you. Did she think I was so buttoned up she had to show appreciation for calling me by my first name?

"So what about you, Tatianna? Do you ever just kick it?

I pondered her query. I wasn't sure that attending business dinners with clients or mind-numbing social engagements at the country club with my parents constituted hanging out.

"Salina, to be frank, I really don't know," I responded. "I go to a lot of places, fine restaurants and theaters, but I can't recall the last time I actually had fun."

I gazed deep into her brown eyes and recognized something I hated: pity. Yes I was pathetic. I needed to face the facts. All the money, power and security I had in my life meant nothing unless I was enjoying it.

My parents had groomed my brother and I to take our place in high society, plain and simple. My father made his millions in international trade after he moved to this country from Russia. My mother spent her days shopping and planning charity events. I went to school at Yale, where I graduated with honors and landed a job with Taylor and Associates before I moved out of my dorm.

There I was, in my corner office on West 59th Street over looking Central Park South, wondering what the fuck I was doing with my life. Salina didn't have a ton of money, but she had freedom. She could leave the office at five and do whatever she pleased. I had to play mediator over soft-shell crabs or spend my evenings going over stacks of paperwork. I truly envied her.

I shot up from my desk, startling Salina. She jumped up and waited for my instructions, assuming a military position again.

"I'm going out," I announced.

"Out? What about your meeting?"

"Cancel it!" I walked toward my private bathroom, snatching my Prada purse off my desk on the way. "In fact, cancel all of my appointments. I'm taking the day off."

"But, Ms. Ivanov, I mean Tatianna," she stammered. "What am I supposed to tell everyone?"

"Tell them I'm sick or something, be creative." I was about to shut the bathroom door when a light bulb went off in my head. "Salina, after you cancel all of my appointments, take the day off as well."

"Are you kidding?" She put her hand on her hip, striking a pose. A big smile came across my face. She looked good like that.

"Yes, Salina, I'm serious. I have never been more serious in my life. Go out and have some fun today!" I exclaimed.

"Thanks, Tatianna" she smiled at me with pure excitement. "I will see you tomorrow then?"

"Maybe, maybe not," I winked, knowing well and good that taking two days off in a row would be pushing it hard. They would probably send the police to my penthouse to make sure I was alive.

Salina swayed out of my office with more perkiness than I had ever seen. I went back in the bathroom and gazed in the mirror. Now, I was radiating with a newly found energy. I felt so alive and invigorated that my toes tingled. The mere thought of dismissing my responsibilities for an entire day was exhilarating.

I took a good look at myself and decided I appeared to be more like forty than my genuine thirty years. My business hair and makeup, not to mention this stuffy conservative suit put age on me. I pulled the pin out of my blond hair and let it cascade down to my shoulders. It had been so long since I physically and symbolically let my hair down.

I took off the jacket of my Donna Karan suit, unbuttoned the top button of my white silk blouse. I looked younger already. I turned to the side so I could see the profile of my body. My breasts were as full and pert as ever. Too bad I had to keep them tied down and under wraps in the work place. I was a shame that I couldn't show off my natural assets more often.

I quickly prepared myself for a day of leisure and fun. I was determined to savor and enjoy this beautiful day. Then I thought about the park. Every day, I looked down from the twenty-first floor at the tiny people taking pleasure in life in Central Park. I just had to take a walk in the park.

I emerged from my office building ten minutes later and took air into my lungs. It felt wonderful. As I made my way through the park, people seemed to be enjoying themselves everywhere. They had lives, unlike me.

I was getting a little tired of walking and spotted an ice cream vendor near by and grew excited. I had not had an ice cream cone in years; just fancy desserts like biscotti and compote. I half-ran over to the vendor and took a five out of my Prada purse. I asked for a double scoop of chocolate on a waffle cone. I paid the nice man and then turned around just a basketball materialized out of nowhere and struck the cone, smashing it into my white silk blouse. The ice cream left a big brown circle over my left breast. I was pissed and my precious ice cream was on the ground.

I looked up and saw the culprit coming in my direction. I wanted to curse him out, but I was raised well: people make mistakes. He was a good-looking man: about 5' 11" with steel blue eyes, dark brown hair and a fit, athletic perfectly tan body. I envisioned the type of woman he would date. I was definitely not the type of woman he was looking for.

He frowned. "I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm just fine." I smiled at him and pointed to my blouse. "Just a stain."

"Please let me buy you another cone. That's the least I could do." He picked up the melting cone and tossed it into the nearest receptacle. "Let me pay to have your shirt cleaned."

"Oh that's not necessary. Really."

He ignored me started searching for money. He paid the vendor for another cone.

"Thank you," I said as he handed me another cone and some money for dry cleaning. "The extra money is really not necessary." I tried to hand him the money back without success.

"Keep it, my treat." He said as he ran back to the basketball court with his friends.

I decided that my best strategy was to find a seat and eat my chocolate cone in safety. There was a park bench about thirty feet from the basketball court. I carefully made my way over and sat down.

I was sitting there savoring each lick of my ice cream cone while examining the rest of the men on the court. One man stood out from the rest. Not just because of his height (he had to be at least 6' 5"), but because he was the sexiest man I had seen in a good long time. He was a handsome black man with mahogany skin, ebony eyes, and deliciously lickable lips. None of the men on his team had on a shirt, but his muscles put the rest of theirs to shame.

"Damn!" I heard myself exclaim with lust.

Before I finished my chocolate cone, I was in severe heat. The ice cream wasn't cold enough and did nothing to cool me down. The creamy brown chocolate of the ice cream was analogous to his skin color didn't help things. I found myself fantasizing about this sexy man's hands, tongue, and everything else all over me. I finished my cone but didn't budge. I was captivated. How irrational, I eventually said to myself. This is completely out of character for you, Tatianna.

That may have been true, but that did not keep me from following this sexy black man when he threw his shirt over his strong glistening shoulder and started walking away.

I had no idea what I hoped to accomplish by following him like a schoolgirl. I kept a good distance from him. I was sure he had entirely no idea that I was pursuing him until...

"Why don't you just walk beside me?"

Was he talking to me? Regrettably, he was. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, staring down at me with a sexy grin.

"Excuse me?" was the only response I could utter.

"I Said, why don't you just walk beside me?"

"Why would I do that?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"It's better than following me." He smiled wider. "You are following me, right?"

"Don't be absurd!" I could not believe his arrogance. Even if he was right about me following him, he did not need to point it out. "What are you, some sort of narcissist or something?"

"No not at all." He swept a loose hair away from my face and I felt faint. He was turning me on so much that I was intimidated. "I am flattered, though."

"I can not imagine why," I replied, determined to keep some composure.

"I saw the way you were checking a brotha out on the court."

"Oh, were you just playing basketball back there?" I asked the question with a straight face. "I was not paying attention. I was too busy eating my chocolate cone." My body cringed as soon as I said "chocolate cone." I prayed he didn't notice.

"The way you ate it was a treat in itself." He licked his full lips. I wanted to lick them for him. "It made me wonder if you devour everything else like that."

"You're nasty!" I said in disbelief.

He moved even closer to me, and I could smell his sweat. Even that was turning me on. "And you are fine."

"And I was brought up better that. I do not tolerate men speaking to me in such a crude fashion. I only hold conversations with gentlemen." I huffed.

I could tell by the way his eyes furrowed that he was offended. "Then why don't you converse your self back in the opposite direction?"

"I will go wherever I please, thank you very much." I stepped around his large frame and started walking.

He took hold of my arm and turned me around. "Tell me, what would you like to do right now?"

"A good start would be for you to let go of my arm." I tried to free my arm, but he was too strong.

He began to walk, taking me along with him. "Let's go."

"Let's go where?" I questioned. I was being accosted in Central Park, and instead of screaming for help, I was asking questions. Not really a good sign.

"My place, of course. It's not far from here. Unless you would prefer we have sex right here in the park."

My God, his place? "You're a lunatic!" I lashed out at him.

"And you're fine."

I couldn't help but blush. After all, that was the second time he had called me fine.

He stopped walking, let my arm go, and eyed me seductively, "I bet you only wear La Perla lingerie, sexy sheer bikini with lacy matching bras." He folded his strong arms, looking me up and down. "On second thought. I see you as a thong type of woman."

"You don't know me at all," I stated as I felt my La Perla thong getting wetter by the second.

"But I'd like to." He raised his eyebrow and looked me up and down some more, making me feel completely uncomfortable. "Back to my analysis. I bet you only wear custom perfume, made only for you. Nothing store bought would be good enough for your sexy body."

"Are you finished?" I was insulted because all of his statements were true. Was I so transparent that a complete stranger could read me like a book? "Since you know so much, why don't you become a psychic or something?"

"I would rather do this."

He leaned down and slipped his tongue in my mouth. I instantly pulled away and slapped him across the face.

"How dare you?"

"How dare I not?" He smirked, rubbing his cheek. "I'm sorry, but I'm one of those people that embraces just how short life really is. To just let you walk away from me and risk the chance of never seeing you again is insane."

He was making complete sense to me.

"Besides, you were following me for a reason."

"For the last time, I wasn't following you," I stated fervently, determined not to be classified as a stalker. "I was just on my way to, to, to..."

"Yes?" He grinned, in anticipation of an answer we both knew I could not supply.

"Never mind. I don't have to explain myself to you. You're a complete stranger."

"Just answer me one question, and if you still want me to, I'll walk away and never look back."

"Fine." Please don't walk away, I thought. "What's your question?"

"Has any man ever made you feel the way you imagined it would feel like in your dreams?"

"What makes you think I have dreams like that?" I rolled my eyes at him.

"Don't you want a man that asks you what you need, what you crave, what you yearn for, and actually cared enough to try to give it all to you?" He began playing with a lock of my blond hair, fingering it gently. "A man that not only talks the talk but walks the walk?" His fingers moved to my puckering lips and started tracing the outline of them. "A man willing to move heaven and earth to make sure you get just as much pleasure out of making love as he does?"

"Stop it." I moaned, slowly stepping away from him. "Please stop it."

"I'm sorry I can't." He closed the gap between us again and put his strong arm around my waist, using his other hand to hold my chin up so that I was forced to look in to his sexy brown eyes. "I want you, and I don't even know your name. If you don't want to, tell me. It's ok. Just come with me. Take a chance. Do something totally uncharacteristic in your life."

My heart was racing to the point where I could hear it in my ears. I thought about how far I was willing to take this as I looked deeply into his eyes.

"Life is about pushing past limits." He gave me a quick kiss on the lips and then drew my bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a few moments before releasing it. "Life is about doing everything you want while you still have a chance. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one."

It took me only a moment before I began French kissing him with a passion like I never had before.

His place was as handsome as he was, a one-bedroom co-op design in a contemporary style. Decorated with rich browns, mahogany hard wood floors, masculine stainless steel fixtures, and vibrant reds accents.

"Your place is exquisite, who is your decorator?"

"Thanks, I did everything myself."

"It's picture perfect."

"I see something that is truly picture perfect." He grinned seductively at me. "I would love to take some pictures of you."

"You're insane!" I huffed.

He pushed me up against the open doorframe and palmed my breast through my chocolate stained blouse. "I'm not insane. I'm just horny for you. I want to spend the rest of the day getting to know your body, knowing every little tiny spot that excites you. Have you ever been tied up?"

He was insane! "No, I never have, and I never will be."

He smiled with that bright smile of his. "You don't trust me, huh?"

"I still don't know you," I responded bluntly. "Besides, I wouldn't let you tie me up if I'd known you my whole life. I trust no one that much."

"Well I trust you. I'll let you tie me up, if you want to right now."

"Your not serious are you?"

He started unbuttoning my blouse. "I'm very serious. Tie me up." He moved my blouse off my shoulders, along with my La Perla bra straps. "Blindfold me. Whatever pleases you pleases me."

I wasn't sure if I was numb or shocked at his statement. "Whatever pleases you pleases me." No man that I had ever been with had ever said anything close. I thought maybe that's why I had never had a man really please me sexually, give it to me really good, make me yearn for him every second that he was away. That was it! That was the moment I knew I was not leaving his place without getting him to please me the way I wanted.

I began helping him with my clothing, and within a few seconds, I was nude from the waist up. He rubbed my hardened nipples between his thumbs and forefingers while I hiked my skirt up to provide easy access.

His ebony eyes gazed into mine, and my breathing became heavy. There was something about the way he looked at me. It was clear that he was a man about his business and that I was in for a hell of a sexual experience. I was ready for him to lead me to bed, but he shocked me by letting me go.

I watched him walk away from me and towards the bathroom, stripping along the way. He kicked off his shoes and bent down to snatch off his socks. Then he lost the shirt. I admired his well defined back sheathed in chocolate skin. I imagined digging my fingernails into it in the throes of passion. He let his shorts drop and stepped out of them, revealing form-fitting black Calvin Kline boxer briefs. My God, what an ass!

He stopped a foot short of the doorway and turned to me. "Why don't you join me in the shower? You can help me scrub something or possibly everything if you like."

I just stared at him, pondering how I went from eating ice cream in the park to contemplating joining this hunk of a black man in his shower. Life sure is full of curveballs. I decided to play a little hard to get, so I gave him a five-minute head start to make him wonder about my next move.

I entered the bathroom nude; the steam was so thick that I could barely make out the glass door of the shower. There he was, with hot water cascading over his ripples. The man was seriously chiseled, like a roman statue made of black marble. We seductively eyed each other for a few seconds before I aimed my eyes down and targeted his cock. His large, juicy black dick. Nice and meaty. Thicker than any I had ever seen in person. I licked my lips reflexively, just as I did before I had my ice cream cone.

"You see something you like, sweetie?" he asked teasingly.

"Maybe. Do you see anything you like?"

He reached out and ran his damp fingers through my hair. I moaned, not knowing where it came from. I'm just not a moaner.

"Come here, sexy lady." He lifted me up and in one motion pulled me into the shower. "I desire everything I see right here."

He positioned me against the cold glass tile, and the feeling sparked my desire even more. I straddled my legs around his waist and eagerly slithered my tongue into his mouth. He passionately accepted it, and I found myself moaning again.