Strokes of a Genius Ch. 4

“Who needs caffeine when you’ve got all this?”

My mini clit-kisser buzzed happily away in my palm. In the cramped washroom, I couldn’t stretch out as I wished, so I balanced one foot on the seat while leaning back against the door. One hand drew my panties to the side, and the other was making sure my Friday would start on a glorious high! Oh, I could feel it coming…! Those delicious trembles rose from my clit to my belly, making my nipples harden and swell. Goosebumps spread across my skin, and I knew I was almost ready, almost there! Getting into the office early was a brilliant plan! I thought to myself. No one was here, and I could push away all thoughts of cigar smoke, deadlines and take-out orders, and just…enjoy…myself…

“Hello in there! There’s not enough stalls to go around! Let me in!”

I heard the banging, but I couldn’t respond. My body refused to be denied of its pleasure, and I gushed over the brink, gasping and sighing all at once. Cupping my hand over my well-juiced pussy, I willed myself not to surrender to the afterglow, grabbed some tissue and quickly cleaned myself up. A quick hand rinse at the sink, and I was ready to face Lani-Mei, the forever-open eyes, ears, nose and especially mouth of the office, standing outside the door.

“My My! Aren’t we all rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed this morning!”

Her overly cheerful greeting immediately put me on my guard. The press office’s human equivalent of a Venus flytrap must have new dirt on someone.

“Come on, Mei. It’s Friday! An upcoming weekend does tend to brighten one’s spirits.”

“But you look that good coming from bathroom, and that no coffee machine I heard buzzing! Maybe some other machine make you smile today, yes?”

I was right; Lani-Mei did have dirt on someone.

The joy-toy store I’d found three weeks ago had suddenly become my new, orgasm-empowering best friend. At first, I was like an inmate just released from prison, investing in gels, body oils and batteries to get more in touch with, and enjoy the touch of my body and soul. But thanks to Mei, I was feeling more like a busted junkie. Even though I’d gotten to the office early, she must’ve overheard my latest prize buzzing my morning blues away. I had to throw her off the trail and fast!

“You probably heard my toothbrush, Mei. I like to start the day fresh,” I said coolly, and I showed her my teeth.

Mei sniffed. “Nice peppermint breath. Better smell than cigar-chomping boss!” She giggled at her own joke as I inwardly sighed of relief, giving thanks for the skills I’d learned from my acting class.

“I like you, Vi, so I tell you, look around. You might want to find a better place to…brush.”

Some actress I was! But for some reason, she was giving me a free pass on my secret. Little did she know that I’d already found the fire exit passage and put it to good use! (But that’s a lovely little tale for another time…) Slowly but surely, I was having the sex-capade adventures I’d dreamed of, all thanks to Sire…

Sire...yeah, right. Where the hell was his lovely little ass lately? One call on my answering machine let me know he was doing some work at home, but that still didn’t tell me how to reach him. Thankfully, a new client needed some heavy spin-doctoring, so I got in on my first brainstorming session, and a welcome opportunity to hone my writing skills without wasting time waiting for a…

*BUZZZ*

Close to 5 o’clock, my pager jolted me out of my glory daze. I never use the chirp alert. The vibrator is always loud enough to get my attention, no pun intended. There’s no number on the display screen, but it flashes anyway to let me know I have a message. I dialed my pager’s number, and once more, I heard Sire’s voice.

“Hey girl. I know it’s been a while, but I had to catch up on some studio time. You know how I am with a canvas. Sometimes, I just have to keep going ‘till I’m finished with it. Anyway, I’m in the city and hoped you might want to hook up again. If you can, meet me at 34th Street around 5:30, and bring your velvet smile! Later.”

“Pick up your chin, Vi, or you’ll lose all your fresh breath, and I’ll need that good smell soon!”

I barely remember hearing Mei’s teasing, much less the fact that my jaw had dropped! As I licked my lips, I replayed the message, expecting to hear my mother’s weekly “wish you were married” speech. But I didn’t. It was him. It was HIM! And he wanted to meet…tonight! I had one more assignment to finish out, but it was the last one of the day. I was sure I could knock it out and have plenty of time to see him again!

By the time I reached 34th Street, it was 6:12. Another perfect plan RUINED by the deadly “last minute assignment”, and I’d completely missed Sire!

Well, I had two choices. Either I could do the sensible thing and go home, or I could try to track him down and meet him at his place. The thought of hunting him down made every part of me tingle with excitement. But my cautionary voice said; hold on, girl. Remember where you are. You’re in the big city now. Without Sire guarding your back, do you really think your Queens-born, Manhattan-working, suit-wearing ass will be welcome in Brooklyn?

The train rolled into the station pushing away any and all self-doubt, kicking my adventurous instinct into high gear. Suddenly, I was a reporter, Sire was my one hot lead and I wanted him! Rush hour still had the right trains running express, and in no time at all, I was back where we first got started.

Still jubilant from my instinct-driven train ride, I bounced down the stairs to the street and suddenly hit a dead end. I was in the right area, across the street from the right line of apartments, but I had absolutely no idea which door was his! I remembered I had to keep moving, so I stepped cautiously, clutching my tote bag closer to me and trying not to look like a damn tourist. Maybe I could ask someone, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around except by the train station…and who or what was that across the street?

I saw a woman sitting on a stoop about three doors down from the station. Even at my vantagepoint, I could see that she was waiting for someone. She had on long black boots and a well-manicured hand on one of her too-rounded hips. Her long, silky hair draped around a dark-chocolate face wearing makeup that was trying too hard for glamorous and just made it to half pretty. But what really caught my eye was that she was wearing a real long, heavy coat with a fur collar, and the autumn chill hadn’t even found the city just yet.

As I mused to myself on my keen observation skills, I saw a man walking towards that same stoop. Shrouded in black suede, he didn’t just walk down the street. He seemed to glide, almost as if he were dancing. That’s when it hit me that only one man I knew had that exact same magical walk.

“Sire!”

I raised my arm to call him, but his name never left my mouth. I watched Sire move slowly to Ms. Half Pretty, and then, she draped over him in a huge, sloppy hug. For a moment, I was frozen, trying to take in what was happening, and at the same time, asking myself if he knew her.

Ms. Half Pretty took a step back and opened her coat in a way that gave only Sire a look at what was underneath. I’m no lip-reader, but I think even a deaf man could have heard the “Oh Shit!” that fell from Sire’s lips. Clearly, he did know her, in all the ways that mattered.

Grabbing her quickly, he pushed open the apartment door wide and shoved her inside. Before I could even think, I bolted across the street and jammed my foot in the doorway before the door could slam shut. For an old ass apartment, the door hit pretty hard, and I found myself fighting back a painful scream. But the pain did clear my mind of all but two thoughts: one, what the hell was he doing with her? And two, what the hell was I doing now?

I could hear laughter coming from one of the two doors in the small, so-called lobby. “Now that door looks familiar!” I thought to myself. Then I remembered that his door had a trick latch he used whenever he couldn’t find his keys in the morning. Praying the latch would work for me, I got closer to the door and listened for the laughter to die down, then I pulled out the doorknob and gave it one quick twist. Hot damn! It worked! I grabbed the door before it could swing wide open and slipped inside.

Hidden in the shadows of the long hallway, I tiptoed further into his domain. As my eyes adjusted to the sparse light, I felt like a tightrope walker using my hands and feet to feel my way across the floor. I heard water gurgling and guessed I was close to the bathroom when my foot brushed something. Feeling my way down to the floor, I tried to figure out what it was when I touched fur. “It’s her coat,” I thought. “Had to be! So what the hell’s she planning?” I growled to myself. Then I heard the laughter again, and I knew I was getting real close, but this time it ended abruptly with a gasp, and then a slow, soft moan.

Reaching the kitchen, I found that I could peek into the living room without being seen. Not that they would have noticed! Even through the very dim light, I could see her head was thrown back and Sire’s head was kneeling in front of her had-to-be COMPLETELY naked body! That WAS her coat in the hallway, and judging from the sounds coming out of her, Sire had gotten right down to business! So THIS was the “new canvas” he’d been working on, and as if to prove me right, his hands glided up her body from her hips, to her wide, flat belly, and then all the way up to her huge brown tits! I could almost sense, almost TASTE what his tongue must have been doing to her, and she was enjoying every second of it. Suddenly, she started to gasp even more urgently, and she began to speak in a pleading tone.

“Sire, baby, please, don’t stop! Don’t stop, I am THERE! Oh, God, YES! Keep it COMING! Ah! AAAaaaahhhh!”

Mesmerized, I watched her body convulse, standing straight up and shaking as if she were being electrocuted right there. Her hands grabbed the back of Sire’s head, then he took hold of them and rose to kiss her. As she seemed to collapse onto him, he began to gently push her towards the bedroom. Once they were inside, I entered his living room, trembling from what I had just seen, and seething with an urgent rage that I had never felt before. That was SO raunchy, so sexy…so why did she have to be with HIM?! Both sensations collided on me at once, energizing all my senses (except the common one) to the point that even though I knew I should have gotten out of there, I didn’t.

I did a 720 turn-around and began to take in his lair. The air was pungent with his paints and incense. Portraits of his favorite idols lined the walls from ceiling to floor. And of course, there were the women: smooth, sleek and strong; blessed with proud tits with dusky nipples, straight hair flying or wild, bushy afros, they showed no shame in claiming their territory, whether it were a man, money, or that ecstatic release that comes from being fucked right. There was even a new work on his easel. It was a rough sketch of a man holding a woman close to him. He held one of her tits as she held the other, and as I looked down the ripples of her womanly belly, I saw that they were each holding one side of her unshaved pussy, stretching it open to form what looked like a flower in bloom. I felt myself being overcome by the image and reached towards it, breathing deeply as I heard another loud moan.

“Yes! Oh, baby, yes…!”

Once again, I was being jolted by a voice that was not my own, and I was getting sick of it! Maybe it was because this voice was able to embrace passion that I was still afraid of, or worse, forbidden to have, ever. Suddenly, I felt less the intruder and more like an uncaged beast laying claim to her territory, and whatever she had, I was going to have it!

Cautiously, I peeked into his bedroom. I saw his VCR clock light first, mingling with the luminescence given by the candles in his room. As I strained to make out an image in the shadows, the moans grew in intensity.

“Yes! Oh you know I missed this, baby! Harder! Harder now…! Oooaaah! Oh! Ah! Aaaahhh!”

Something slapped the floor, and as I looked down, finally the shadows began to wield their secrets. Silhouetted by the candlelight, her hands were close to the toes of her boots, bracing against the sharp movements of his hips. Her ass was thrust high into the air, answering his rampant thrusts with a softened siren’s call of her own, but still laden with its own sense of urgency. A long line of moisture flowed down her leg and out of her ass, but wait; this moisture seemed to levitate from her. No! I see now! The dark almost concealed it, but now I could see his hardness, his beautiful, thick cock was drawing her glistening desire from her very core as his tongue had once done for me.

He thrust it home with such force, although it was she that screamed, it was my core, my belly, my pussy, that felt the blow. Two thrusts, three…louder and louder, four, five….I felt myself melting, warm and cold, dying and being reborn all at once. I wanted him to die, to make me live. I wanted to beat her, to BE her! And all the while, I just couldn’t stop watching…

Eight thrusts, nine…and finally, a long scream erupted from her. Sire, in the grasp of his own release, reared his head back and held her hips tightly to him, his smooth buttocks tensing, then calming from the slow embrace of afterglow. They both fell to their knees, and then she collapsed on the mattress with him following after her, draping her like a velvet shroud.

I felt my teeth grind together in a snarl. With a sense of betrayal, but mixed with something deeper, I moved swiftly to his easel. A startled voice said, “What was that?!” but I was beyond its meaning, beyond caring if I was discovered. A child’s reasoning burnt inside me and wanted him to hurt as much as I did, and I grabbed his canvas from the easel, preparing to smash it down.

And then I saw them again: the two on the canvas, so enwrapped by discovery, by passion, by joy. Suddenly, I realized as real as my pain felt, I knew I couldn’t inflict it; certainly not on these two. I felt tears run down my face as I placed the painting back down on its rightful perch.

Then I felt something else. My shoulder hit the wall hard as the rest of my body took the brunt of a Quarterback’s tackle.

“What the HELL are you doing here?!” I heard Sire shout, felt myself being grabbed by my suit collar, and then, as much as I had already seen him, he finally saw me.

“Vi?”

Ms. Half Pretty’s voice called from the bedroom. “Sire? Are you okay?”

His head turned for just a moment, and I made it count. Tearing away from him, I fled down the hallway, flung myself out of his apartment and ran down the street at top speed, never once looking back. As I reached the train station, I realized that I had dropped my tote in his apartment. A frantic search found my pocket change purse with just two tokens and my spare house keys, enough to get me home. Still panting, in fact, still crying, I reached the top of the stairs when a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I spun around to see Sire’s face.

“Vi…what are you doing here?” he asked.

I looked in his eyes and told him: “I honestly have no idea.”