Education of a Jezebel Pt. 09: Deciding on a Major

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* Education of a Jezebel

* Part 9 - Deciding on a Major

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This is part of a novel. Previous parts should be read first.

Chapter 26

A call had come in Saturday afternoon, she'd ignored it as it was from a guy named Craig, she'd given him her number at a bar after work one night. She returned it Monday evening, got him on the third ring. "Sorry, I was busy all weekend... Thursday evening?... Sure... B.J.s Brewhouse in Deerville, I know it... Yeah, I'll meet you there, 7:30?... See you then." The picture she had of him in her brain was hazy, the guys who tried to pick you up in bars all ran together. But he must be okay, else why would she have given her number to him?

Sam dragged her along to a lunch with a big donor on Tuesday, this was getting weird, she mostly sat and listened to the schmoozing.

She got the call she'd been expecting on Tuesday, Tom suggested he come to her place Saturday night, but he'd have to leave early because he had to flip down to out to L.A. Sunday, he'd be gone the whole week.

She accepted a date with Tavon on Friday night once she realized she was free, she'd been putting him off too long.

And Kurt wanted her to date him on Friday, as well, it was getting confusing. She was juggling just four men, how could she possibly think she could handle five at a time? But it might be a pleasure to die trying, she mused.

Thursday night she showed up at the Brewhouse just a few minutes late, after texting Ashley the details. No one she remembered as 'Craig' seemed to be around. She asked the bartender for a Tomahawk, the October night was nippy, the cinnamon schnapps and amaretto warmed her. Craig came in, complained that somebody in his parking lot had blocked his car. Yeah, he looked okay, a little older than she anticipated, dark hair that roamed his head messily. At the bar, then over dinner of a sandwich for him, salad for her, they went through the prance. "Where did you go to college?" "I grew up in a small town south of here." "I've been getting into Four Hand Morbidity lately, good heavy metal." "Never been to California, I think I'd like the beaches." The conversation was as trite as it was insipid, both knew it before they were ready for a second drink. When the bill came, Kelley offered to split it, to her surprise Craig accepted, she steamed a little bit as she tapped her credit card. At the door, Craig asked, "Maybe we could get together again?" Kelley wasn't the slightest bit chagrined when she said, "Probably not."

On her way home, she went slightly out of her way to drive past the house that Kurt and Andrew lived in, was surprised by the 'For Sale' sign on the lawn. She recollected the good times she'd had there, the dinners, the poker games, and yes, the nights of the three bedrooms and the threesome.

On Friday, Tavon picked her up, he had a five year old sedan, in good shape. He took her to a movie, they compromised on a historical fiction about a gangster during prohibition. They stopped for a sandwich, then Kelley invited him in. He seemed amazed at her apartment, couldn't get over the four-poster bed. He was no better than he'd been the time before, to his credit he was no worse. By the time he left before midnight their desires were both moderately quenched, but Kelley was left wanting more both physically and mentally. As he drove away, she wondered how long she was going to keep the Black man on the hook.

Saturday, she met Ashley at the mall, they shopped a bit, had lunch. It was just girls being girls, no different from the decade previous when they'd just been friends. Yes, Don and Nick were fine, all was well, maybe an evening in November?

She readied herself for Tom, she'd had her Brazilian refreshed, it hadn't hurt nearly so bad this time. He came by about six, jeans, mottled blazer, a gorgeous burnt orange scarf. The first kiss was deep. lingering. "Ready to go?"

"We could stay in for awhile..." Kelley offered, they strode into the bedroom, he pulled her blouse off from behind. He was wild for her, she was just as interested in his charms, Tavon be damned. Tom stood her up against a post at the corner of the bed, she dangled from the frame above her, it was interesting and athletic, although between the need to hang on and the softness of the mattress Tom stood on provided less than a firm base to push against. Doggy was tried for awhile, then some sort of missionary with crunched knees and elbows. Orgasms flowed readily for the woman, five or six at least, she wasn't counting. They finished with the corners of sheets torn from the mattress, he was only half on the bed. She was sitting on him leaning backwards, Tom had an amazing eruption, drenching her completely. When they bothered to look at a clock, they'd been romping for well over an hour and a half.

Kelley headed into the bathroom, saw her makeup was completely destroyed, her hair tumbled wildly. She could repair it, but it would take more time than it was worth. "Why don't we just order a pizza?" she called.

"You like mushrooms?" he hollered back.

"And pepperoni?"

"Yeah."

She called it in, tried her best to tame her mane, they broke open a bottle of red. The bell rang, she ran to open the door in a terrycloth robe. Yes, it was the same guy she'd flashed months earlier, he seemed disappointed he wasn't getting a little bit of a show.

They sat on the living room floor, listening to The Byrds, and reviewed their upcoming schedules. "I'll be in New York next weekend," she reminded him.

"That's too bad, looks like it'll be a couple of weeks before we can hook up again."

After she'd had two slices and he three, the exercise had given both an appetite, they threw more classic rock on. "You really do want to learn about Classic Rock?" he asked. "You don't have to be bored with it just to humor me."

"Do I seem bored?"

"I wonder sometimes if I'm going on too much. Tell you what, educate me. I'm a businessman, I've never understood nonprofits. What's in it for you guys?"

"I guess the biggest reason for OpenedDoors is to educate people in Morreton's architecture and business climate at the same time..." Kelley went on, Tom asked her pertinent questions.

Tom didn't leave until after brunch on Sunday afternoon, Kelley headed to Nordstrom's where she picked up a navy business suit and a pants suit in a grey wool blend. She needed something for New York, these would do nicely.

She on her sofa, listening to Tom petty, pondering that it would be two weeks before she'd see her favorite lover again. That seemed a long time, was she getting too close? Luckily her phone chimed, it was Don. "Hi!" she greeted cordially.

"Hey," he said, "I've been thinking about you."

"Oh, and what have you been thinking? Something dirty, I hope."

"Oh, no, my thoughts have been virginal white! I was planning on asking you out next Friday, then Ashley tells me you're going to New York."

"True, very true," she confirmed, "I'm sorry about that. But maybe you could make it during the week? I could squeeze you in for Thursday."

"Between all your other guys? I'll take what I can get," Don said. "How about dinner at that joint in your neighborhood?"

"Sure, if we go dutch."

"It's a date."

As it always is, you either get too much rain or not enough, she got a call from Tavon as well, she explained she was too busy getting ready for New York, told him to call in a couple of weeks.

The work that week was endless, she was taking care of various needs in Morreton while Sam was constantly on the phone checking in with people they'd meet at the conference, preparing a talk she was to give.

Don arrived at seven on Thursday, they walked the three blocks to the small business street in Trenworth. Over their plates of scallops, they chatted. In a way, it was quite strange; Kelley couldn't remember if she'd ever been truly alone with Don before, he'd always been an accessory to Ashley. Of course, he knew Kelley's complete history, but she knew little about him, it turned out that he'd been on the forensic team in high school, winning the region in the Dramatic Presentation; he even gave her a short excerpt of his selection, 'Roads To Moscow.'

They walked back to her house, she hanging on his arm. "You're coming in, aren't you?" she invited.

"Only if you don't mind having your reputation tarnished."

"What reputation?"

As she was pouring them a snifter of Grand Marnier, she asked, "So, I'm curious. What's the best thing about being in the LifeStyle?"

"For me? I guess it would be the variety."

"You mean having different girls, what they look like, what their breasts feel like, things like that?"

"Well, certainly the physical stuff is neat. But maybe you don't know this, or maybe Ashley's told you, we're a little bit sexually mismatched. If she has her druthers, she'll get wild, hanging from the chandeliers. At this club we go to there's a room with a sex swing, Ashley loves it in there. Me, I'm more the romantic type."

"You mean like the night in the hot tub?" Kelley asked.

"Exactly. Sitting there in the warm water, seducing each other..."

"Hey, you seduced me."

"Okay, maybe," Don laughed, "but you didn't resist very hard."

They were sitting in the living room, a foot apart. They knew how the evening would wind up, the only question was the steps they'd take to get there. Kelley had an idea. "Wait here," she begged, "it may be a few minutes." Don agreed.

Kelley entered the bedroom and closed the door. She turned down the bed, lit five candles. She made sure her phone was silent, it wouldn't help to have Kurt calling in for a booty call. She stripped, applied perfume to her neck, the undersides of her breasts, the insides of her thighs. Then she slipped into a romper of ebony lace, an elastic binding encircled her waist, it tied at the back. She'd ordered it recently thinking of Tom, with the talk it seemed it could work very well for Don. A fluff of her hair, she opened the door and called out, "Turn all the lights off, please." As Don flicked the two switches, she told the speaker to play an album of piano sonatas.

When she saw the living room was dark, she strolled to the sofa, carrying a candle at her waist, her face and cleavage illuminated. Don's expression broke into a smile. "I can like romantic too," she tempted.

She led him into the bedroom, refused to let him touch her, instead took charge with stretched kisses on his eyes and lobes, she stroked his torso while she unleashed him of his clothing. When he was down to his briefs, she laid on top of him, their semi-clothed bodies pressing into each other. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked.

"It's perfect!"

"Good, I'm glad. I'd like you to take charge now, go as slowly as you want."

His hand began stroking her back, her neck, arms. Slowly, amorously, he began exploring her sensual areas, she waited and waited until he untied her bow, peeled the lace from her shoulders. He wound her up for so long that when finally his rough tongue touched her points she gasped. He stroked her legs, even the soles of her feet, it took another lengthy period before his hand covered her mons.

He rolled her onto her stomach, peeled the garment off. Along her shoulder blades, her spinal column, his hand moved a fraction of an inch from her skin, only the soft, minute hairs were disturbed; a tension arose within her. He moved down to her lower cheeks, the backs of her legs, as he touched the insides of her knees she spread them apart, his hand moved up, slowly, until it lightly tapped that most sensitive of skin. Again he felt her breath quicken.

He began to rub the labia softly, a groan escaped into the pillow her head rested upon. He asked her to roll over again, when she was exposed to his view in the flickering candlelight she watched his eyes take all of her in, enjoy visually everything she had to offer him, she knew her nipples were crinkled in apprehension. Again he moved his hand over her, not letting it touch her, just inciting her. Everything but the three most erotic realms were approached, and only when he absolutely knew she would do anything for him did he brush his palm over the two nipples, encouraging them for a minute each, then down, over her navel to her mons.

Again she opened for him, again he began tenderly touching the puffy hillock, his strokes became stronger and stronger until she felt the tip of his finger unhurriedly move the sides of the slit apart, it touched just slightly inside her.

"Do you know how wet you are?"

"You've been teasing me for so long, of course I do!" It was spoken roughly, expediently, yet with a tone of lovingness.

The finger entered further, the moist sides of the tunnel were stroked, she felt pulsations along the shaft. The digit delved further and further, provoking her, and suddenly she felt pressure on the roof of the canal, just an inch inside, a very slight stroking, she melted. A scream left her lips, her body shivered, her mind turned to nothing but eroticism. Don understood, rubbed the clit hard with his thumb, extending her bliss.

Eventually she opened her eyes, swallowed hard, and smiled, "I want more."

"And you shall have it."

"Do you want me to suck on you?"

"Not necessary, I'm ready," he admitted. "Would you like to get on top?"

"Of course."

The paramours arranged themselves, when positioned correctly the mast entered the channel, once again Don was making love with Kelley. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Pleasure yourself," he recommended, "I'll just go along for the ride."

As she moved over him, each watched the other, taking in the way his eyes glared, the spring of her breasts. They touched each other, faces, shoulders, waists. Inevitably, the friction within her brought Kelley within an inch of Nirvana, she slipped over the edge, rising and moving the shaft massaging her spot. She felt no need to be anywhere but in her mind, she allowed herself complete freedom to explore her ecstasy. When she returned from outer space, she found that she was breathing through her mouth, gasping for air. Don, she realized, was still below her, the penis still filled her with stamina.

She looked to him, directly into his deep brown eyes, began to move her hips quickly, intensely. It was impacting him, she saw, and she attempted movement after movement, a trick with her muscles. His face was intent now, almost as if it was contesting an athletic challenge, then he squinted, Kelley felt a change inside her. Yes, he was filling her womb with the seed he had for her, as he grunted she laughed at her prowess.

Minutes passed, they both walked through the living room to the bathroom without clothing, the liquor glasses were refilled, they laid on the bed, facing each other, lips touching from time to time, hands roaming.

"Do you do that with all your women?" Kelley asked. "It was marvelous." She reflected that even though the act had taken over an hour, there had never been any oral sex, she didn't miss it at all.

"Hardly ever," Don responded. "To take it so slowly, you really need to invest. Most of the times you get together in the LifeStyle, there's other people around, you can't possibly create the atmosphere. Or even if Ashley and I do separate rooms, you can't take too long or the other couple will be done long before you are and that shouldn't be. I'll bet I haven't had a night like this in four or five years."

"Well, it was my first time ever! God, it was good. The way you stroked my back so softly. Will you teach me how to do that?"

"It isn't hard at all, you just have to be very careful not to actually touch the skin." She practiced on his chest, saw that it really was easy, but took concentration. "Of course, it's even better with a fur glove."

"We should try that sometime," Kelley offered. "You do me, I'll do you."

"Sounds like a plan."

It wasn't even 10:30, but Kelley had to head for the airport in the morning, Don picked up on it and left. "See you soon," he kissed her goodbye.

Before she nodded off to sleep, Kelley had been online and ordered a pricey chinchilla glove. She couldn't wait to use it on Don. Yes, she'd inaugurate it with Ashley's husband, but Tom wouldn't be far behind.

The girls met in the airline lounge an hour before their 11:00 flight, security behind them. Over coffee they chatted. "So, you've got all your meetings set, right?" Sam asked.

"We've been over this again and again," Kelley sighed, "you're being a little anal."

"I guess, I just want to make sure you're gonna get what you need out of this."

Chapter 27

The girls arrived at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square an hour before the kick-off meeting, Kelley found she had a fourteenth floor room looking down onto 46th street. She was no stranger to New York, she'd been there a couple of dozen times while she was married for shopping and theatre, she wasn't overwhelmed by the bright lights like the first time she'd been here at the age of twenty-one as a brand new bride.

She headed for the kick-off, then she had two subject-matter seminars before she'd meet Samantha in the hall. Before her second meeting, she was approached by a good looking man. 'Waylon Harris,' his name tag displayed, he seemed a little young. "Had enough yet?" he asked.

"Oh, my first meeting was okay, I'm looking forward to this one." They shook hands. "Denver, huh?"

"Yeah, this year was our third tour. What's happening in Morreton?"

"We've been in business now for eleven years."

"Wow, so you guys started this, huh?"

"We were one of the first three cities."

They sat next to each other while a panel of speakers droned on about cost accounting, Waylon rode with her down the elevator to the exhibition floor where Kelley met Sam. That evening was a tour of the booths offering services to non-profits, then the various hospitality rooms offering noshing and open bars. More than sixty percent of the people were of the feminine persuasion, more women were attracted to non-profits than men. But since many of the participants were over fifty or sported wedding rings, Kelley and Sam found themselves continually converged upon by men of all ages and marital status. Kelley took her cue from her boss, although there was light flirting going on, if a man tried to get too serious the girls would cut him off, head to another party. At one point, Kelley found herself sipping her drink with Waylon. "Business card match?" he asked. "I got the director of the San Francisco group." That was the biggest OpenDoors in the country.

"I bagged the Executive director of London," Kelley bragged. The group was making a big deal that they were expanding internationally. They laughed for a moment, Kelley touched Waylon on the shoulder, pulling a mythical piece of lint off his suit, they split up.

The evening ended well after midnight in the party hosted by the President of OpenDoors, Sam had some pull, Kelley was introduced to four of the national board. As she slipped between the sheets in her own room, she thought it had been a good day.

Breakfast started at eight, Sam was nowhere to be seen, Kelley had five seminars she was signed up for. They were, more or less, a bore, Kelley had little interest in 'Profit Motive for Non-Profits'. She bumped into Waylon, they hit the street for lunch, found a deli. Kelley laughed when she learned Waylon had never had a New York Reuben, she initiated him into the mysteries of sauerkraut and Russian dressing.

Kelley had a couple of hours to kill before the traditional banquet started at 7:30. She rested, then gowned herself. She and Sam were seated near the front of the ball room with a couple of national board members and the contingent from the New York organization. It was so traditional, mundane speeches and vulcanized chicken, although the wine was good. Kelley was surprised when Morreton was presented with a minor award, Sam dragged Kelley up to the podium to help her receive the crystal statue of an opened door.