A/N: I am finally able to get back to my passion of writing. Sorry it took so long. I am a busy bee. This is my second story and I hope all enjoy.
Peace and Blessings, QueenOfTheNile
"Tell me again, Mr. Delrosi, why you are in my office?"
Those brilliant white teeth of his flashed into a small yet humble smile as a diminutive glare reflected from a forefront cusped that seemed to have the inevitable ability to make one blink in automatic reflex- twice. No one's teeth should be that bright, I doubt it is even possible. The thought of him using teeth whitening strips or a tube of the fancy whiting gels marketers sell on infomercials crossed my mind for a brief second before I deemed my thoughts unprofessional and highly inappropriate. I was being paid top-dollar to cure a patient of an illness, not judge him by the abnormal symmetry of his molars and the defined sharpness of his pointed edges.
"You tell me doc, you're the professional."
"That may be the case, Mr. Delrosi, but I need your feedback in order for me to make an educated guess, thus giving me ground to stand upon when curing you."
He chuckled a somewhat sinister laugh that made his small smile turn into a rather large Cheshire beam. The gleam from his flawless set of teeth shined brighter than before and I could have sworn it blinded me temporarily. He has to whiten his teeth. No plaque or marred perfection in plain sight. Should I ask his secret?
"Do you really think I'm a nut-case Miss...?"
"Williams." I finished, clearing my throat. "Ms. Acai Williams; pronounced as "Ashai""
"Unique name." He paused, inhaling slowly, "Origin?"
"My father gave it to me before he passed. It's Sudanese, meaning shyness." I fixed an imaginary wrinkle in my perfectly starched and pleated dress skirt, rubbing invisible lint onto the cream-colored carpet below my Jimmy-Choo sheltered feet. I was trying to avoid his searing gaze and that seemingly devilish grin from his odd set of perfected teeth. I flipped my shoulder-length of dark brown curls backwards to rest along my back and moved a stray hair coming from my bangs away from my face. I looked at him and he was still smiling, teeth still gleaming and oddly still unmarred with residue. "Yes?"
"Your father was from Sudan?"
"You mother as well?"
"No, she was African-American."
"Interesting." he shifted his position from lying lazily on the right end of the leather seat to becoming hunched over improperly with both hands clasped together, as if anxious for me to continue with my life story. He was trying to play a mind game with a PhD. certified psychiatrist. Daring and bold, but not the best move in this twisted game of chess he insists on playing. "Tell me more."
"I'm not here to discuss my life-story, Mr. Delrosi. We are here to discuss your ailment."
His head dropped slightly and his grayish-green eyes that once connected with my chocolate brown ones became enticed and seemingly more interested in my choice of carpeting. Judging by his eye-color, slight accent, hair, and skin-tone, I could infer that he was probably of Hispanic decent, preferably somewhere along the lines of being Puerto-Rican.
"Walking around naked is a mental illness in your book of psychiatrics now, doctor?"
"No, but doing it in public, purposely breaking laws and moral and ethical code without any remorse for the damage caused is."
He laughed hoarsely before meeting his eyes with mine once more, grinning and letting those teeth shine like a midnight star with perfect alignment. I blinked again out of reflex. "Is it wrong for me to be free?"
"Call me Javier." he interjected, leaning back into the black and beige leather chair once more, crossing his right leg over his left and resting both his arms besides on the two arm posts, grinning. "Javier Del'Monte Delrosi."
"I'm on last name basis Mr. Delrosi." I quickly concluded my focus suddenly not set on his unblemished teeth but on the fine chest hairs that trailed down from his chiseled pectorals downward into the promise land- somewhere, I have not seen in a long, long time. Judging by his body, I could tell he exercised regularly and ate a well-balanced diet. His biceps were large and hard, chest wide and strong, abdominals toned to complete precision. He had the body of a Greek god and the face of one as well. His raven hair, spiked slightly upward in a Ricky Martin sort-of way, complimented his facial structure nicely as his nicely kept goatee and small sideburns made him seem like Spanish royalty. It was not my fault if a few of my male clients wanted to look...attractive upon their visits to my office. Mr. Delrosi, Javier as he likes to be called, just happens to be one of those people that like V-neck muscle shirts, boot-cut Levi jeans that hug him in all the right places, and patented leather loafers that completed his simple, yet sophisticated look. They were Gucci and it impressed me.
"I'm not, Acai." his voice grew in bass and brought my attention from the middle of his pants back upwards to his face. He grinned and looked downward, back at me soon after. "You were looking at my dick?"
"NO!" I exclaimed loudly, growing a dark shade of coral as his smile grew wider in satisfaction. Damn, he caught me. "Mr. Delrosi, please keep this civilized."
"Want to see it?"
"I am your therapist, not a random whore!"
"Never said you were."
"Let's get back to the session Mr. Delrosi." The lump that had been stubbornly caught in my throat soon afte he had caught me peeping insisted on being a jackass and refused to move. I needed some water immediately. "Excuse me for a moment; I need a glass of water."
Those seemingly perfect teeth turned into another furtive smile as he stood full height to block any of my sudden movements. I tried to maneuver my way around him, but Mr. Delrosi was taller than I first estimated. I was thinking something around 5'10, not 6'5. With his muscular body type and abnormal height, I stood no chance in making my way to the drinking fountain without paying a "toll".
"You never answered my question."
"I do not want to see your penis Mr.-..."
He lowered his face from normal personal-privacy space to a dangerous few inches away from briskly brushing against my lips. He was close enough for me to smell his breath; crisp, clean, and smelling like a mixture of watermelon-strawberry trident gum and Listerine. "What's wrong with being an exhibitionist?"
"It's considered a psychological disorder and it's not normal in our society Mr.-..."
"Javier." he interrupted again, whispering, inching closer. My pulse quickened and I could feel a familiar fire ignite between my legs. I have not felt that in years. "And, tell me why."
"It's considered to be an imbalance with chemicals within the brain and..."
"Cut the Harvard talk, Acai," he finally stepped back and looked down upon me with a smug, arrogant demeanor. "Try it sometime."
Then it happened. He took off the snow-kissed white V-neck muscle shirt and exposed his muscular Spanish beauty for me to marvel and eulogize. I heard the mound of fabric land somewhere in the far corner next to my bookcase, but I paid no mind. In front of me was a Spanish deity that was gracious enough to bless me with his ostensible appearance in full-form and in its entire splendor for my eyes to drink as if it were from King Arthur's goblet. My eyes could not look away. Here was a bronze god sent from heaven right in front of me and is stripping down to nothing more than the flesh that cloaks his pious body. I first-handedly witnessed this in the making, and all I can do is ramble with a purpose I forgot the moment I laid eyes on the bulge that had settled between those jeans. GOD. "It makes you feel...unleashed." his deep, husky voice emphasized the ending and I had to turn my head to hide any further blushing. "Want to see the rest of me?" My blush grew deeper.
"Please....Javier; let's not get naked in my office. Your family feels your lack of clothing in public places is...uncivilized."
"But what do you think, doctor?"
I could not answer because I was still mind numbed with the image of his perfectly canvassed torso. It was flawless, just like those perfect set of teeth of his I unconsciously envy.
"Look at me, Acai."
"I rather not."
"Look at me, Acai."
His hand gently touched mine and brought it to a cool surface, slightly dampened and evenly hard. The red tips of my fingernails gently brushed against something rugged as his other hand sheathed my own under its warmth. His hands were smooth like whipped butter, and soft like Chinese silk. I let my head turn towards him slightly out of respect, but quickly turned away when I caught a glimpse of where he had my hand. Instinctively, I pulled away. "NO!"
"Unbuckle me and see how it feels to be free."
I really needed water now. "Excuse me." I tried to maneuver my way around him again but failed miserably. This time, he was not so cordial and manhandled me into a facedown position atop of my freshly waxed desk. I saw my report on another client fly off randomly and my cup of expensive pens dance their way onto the floor quietly. I wanted to object, but that damn lump in my throat was as stubborn as a mule and muted me temporarily, giving him a personal green-light invitation to slide his large, masculine hands under my black skirt and move the fabric towards my waistline.
"You have a beautiful ass." he complimented with a smile, "Firm just the way I like."
"Leave it alone!" I tried to cry out but my efforts faltered and resorted into a desperate plea that sounded like a fusion of ecstasy and unwanted desire for him to continue. "Stop."
He chuckled and began playing with the small red-laced strings of my thong. He pulled the left one and made it pop, making me jerk in surprise. "That didn't sound convincing."
He was right; it truly did not and was a step above being labeled as truly pathetic. "Jav-.."
"God I love your ass." He popped the right string and my body jerked once more. The small pain resulting from the drag friction of fabric meeting skin fueled my fire and unleashed an involuntary moan of elation. I tried to cover it with my hands, but I failed terribly. The Spanish divinity behind me, grabbing and massaging my ebony mounds had the touch of an angel. He was soft and gentle, but still rough and possessive like a man should be. It fed the ignition between my legs and the fire within my stomach to ravage freely.
His right hand cupped my left cheek and gave it a firm squeeze while his right hand went to work pulling off the risqué fabric of my Victoria Secret intimate. I wanted to scream stop, call my assistant for help, do anything, something. The Spanish deity was too much for me to handle, but my mind said one thing but my body said another. I was screaming ethics and morals established by a Harvard degree, but my heat was begging to be touched, massaged, held, filled.
"Don't talk anymore, Acai." he whispered softly, leaning closer to my ear, tongue snaking out to lick and nibble on my gold hoop, slowly moving towards the flesh of my lobe to claim sensually. "Let me do all the talking from now on."
This was not right. I was being paid top-dollar to treat an exhibitionist and persuade him that public nudity was wrong. So how in the hell did I become slammed against my desk, ass fully exposed to the cool air-conditioned room of my office, and thong now nothing more than a matted piece of material below my feet. To top it all off, my patient now had the upper hand and was now taking advantage me.
He shushed me by inserting a single digit inside my tight, wet heat; a gasp escaping clenched teeth as my hands morphed into tightened fists along the brink of my desk. God he knew how to please a woman. "I told you to not talk anymore."
He inserted another finger and this time my gasp turned into a heavy moan. "Acai shut the hell up and let me fuck you."
My mind was officially offline and all coherent thoughts disappeared into oblivion. Fuck me? I have not had sex with a man since my senior year of High School, prom night- of course. That was almost ten years ago and back then it was a mediocre fuck. We were both virgins that night and knew nothing about the erogenous zones on each other's bodies. Javier, however, seems to know what he is doing and understands the female anatomy as if he created it specifically for his personal pleasure. I do not think I am ready. His body is already a portrayal of a god himself; I cannot imagine what his penis should turn out to be.
He grinned softly and kissed my cheek. "Good girl." He inched away, me daring not to move from my current position. "Let me show you why being an exhibitionist is so much...fun."
"Fun...?" I whispered, forgetting I was not allowed to speak. He chuckled deeply and the sounds of his metal belt-buckle becoming undone as the sensation of his two fingers embedded within my softness beginning to move in repetitive motion erupted a tsunami wave of pleasure. The man was certainly, undeniably multi-talented.
"Yes." the thud of metal hitting the floor along with the heap of his jeans and boxers silenced me. "Fun."
I wanted to turn around and marvel at his nakedness, but those two fingers were simply too magical for me to ignore. They quickened and lessened in pace in a rhythmic pattern and the tip of his index curled into a "hither" motion that almost had me cum immediately. I saw my nails were now chipped and were marking the fine wood of my desk, but I did not care. This is the closest I have gotten to an orgasm in a long time and I needed to fall off that precipice of bliss into an ocean of rapture. I could not help but moan with each one getting louder than the last. I was so close...so close I could see the holy gates of heaven open their arms to welcome me. It was close to touch, close to feel, close to practically taste its sweet nectar of divinity. Shutting my eyes, I prayed for an orgasm, I prayed for that release I have not had in so long, the pleasure my body has ached for since my last one almost a decade before. I could feel it, his fingers moving faster, creating more friction, the sounds of my wetness gliding his digits inward and outwards in parallel motions that had me inch closer and closer to that mind-numbing happy-ending.
"Yes...I'm so close..." I couldn't breath and that familiar feeling of a long-lost friend returning with vengence began to make presence. I could feel my knees buckling and my legs beginning to go weak with fatigue. The pressure was becoming to much for my body to bear and I was starting to regret wearing the pumps I had just bought. "Yes...yes...Javeir...yes..."
"You like this,hm?"
I nodded feverntly and began to push myself further down the length of his fingers for more of that orgasmic feeling. "Oh, god...I'm going to cum." It was close, so, so close that I could feel the first round of the oceanic waves of my orgasm begin to wash me away in elate gratification. The next round was stirring, harder and stronger than the first, and I had to be ready to take them head on.
"Javier...Oh..." my deathly grip tightened, his thrusts grew longer, that sensation just a touch away...."I'm about to cum!"
He did the unthinkable, and removed those godsends without regret, my eyes opening almos instantly as my body began stiffening from the sudden emptiness inside. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout, but the sound would not take flight and make itself ring. Tears of hurt, anger, and frustration were building as the vision of those pearly gates distanced themselves from me with each passing moment, the ecstasy dwindling and dying along with my raging fire. How could something be so close, and then be gone the next instant?
"Javier!" The sound finally resonated.
He laughed and placed a moist finger against my lips, the scent of me strong and widely feminine rushing up my nose while its wetness laced my lips as a few droplets graced my tounge. "Can't have you cum just yet, Aaci."
"Please, do not stop!"
"Do not leave me like this!" I practically screamed, clenching the desk harder than ever. I watched a single tear fall onto the wood silently. "I need this so badly."
"How badly?" He was playing this wicked game of chess again, and this time, called checkmate.
"I cannot wait." I looked at him with pleading eyes and whispered, "Don't leave me like this."
I felt his burning smirk on my back as the sensation of his soft tip prodded my opening. I felt his soft hand gently caress the sides of my stomach, inching closer and closer to the soft pillows of my breasts. He gave one a small squeeze while pushing himself closer to my exposed sex. "I was not planning on it mi amour."
It happened. The grand finale. The deity behind me graciously bestowed himself unto me and blessed me with his gift. Those gates, that oceanic body of bliss, the heavenly light all reappeared in an instant and my eyes that were once filled with tears of sadness, flooded with tremendous glee. I screamed out a pure joyous cry as his masculine hands gripped my waist and began to turn me around, my legs now moving from the carpet, sweeping over his head, to making a home on his broad tanned shoulders as my elbows were now supporting my weight on the desk. He moved me from a backwards anal position to a stand-up missionary all in one sweep. He truly was perfection.
"Javier." I moaned, marveling at how perfect his length was nestled inside my cavern. It glistened with my essence and slowly throbbed with its own desire. It was erotica and astonishing all at the same time. "Please..."
"Let me show you why I like being seen." He touched my sheltered breasts and flicked one hardened bud against one of his fingertips, "Do not hold back from me either."
The sweat gathering in a pool along the crevices of my forhead slowly slid down my nose and chin to finally settle upon my chest, seeping through my tightened blouse and making the scene even more erotic than when it first began moments ago.
I could not take any more constrictions and allowed myself to free my 38C's from their lace prison, my nipples erecting more to the touch of cool air. The buttons from my white vest and blouse were scattered randomly across the floor, and the red lace bra I once wore was now tossed in the far corner with Javier's shirt. I was thankful I chose to wear a strapless bra that unhooked from the front today. Mr. Delrosi smirked and devoured one of my pearls as he began to thrust, slowly at first but steadily increasing in speed soon after. I felt his large hands travel from my petite waist to cradling my soft bottom once again, lifting me from the desk to have me dangling in mid-air with nothing but the trust I had for him keeping me up. I positioned my legs from atop of his shoulders to becoming wrapped around his waist in a death grip as I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck; breathing in his scent of Calvin Klein euphoria all the while he kept suckling me like a newborn infant. His pace quickened and our distance from my desk increased, our connected bodies coming closer and closer to my closed office door that he masterfully opened with just one hand, not breaking the pace of his strokes, but moving upwards from my black diamonds to the tender flesh of my Chanel kissed lips.
There was a gasp that rang out behind us that sounded like it came from my secretary, then another that resembled the copier boy and his assistant, Ronald, as we made our way into the lobby. Others were an array of whispers, shouts, and a few whistles and cheers as he moved about five feet from my office and cradled me gently against a nearby wall, pounding into my body mercilessly as we were watched by a growing audience. We knocked over a glass vase and I think a lamp as we moved in unison, but I could have cared less. I heard my rival psychotherapist yell out from the doorway of her office that I was a whore before quickly shutting it, but I paid her no mind. I was being fucked by Spanish royalty and had almost the entire fifth floor of the office building either cheering me on or envying my ability to withstand the miraculous eight wonder of the world. Javier looked at me sensually with those jeweled eyes and I kissed him deeply, passionately, possessively. There was no way I was letting this one go after what he put me through in the past twenty minutes.