Palmer Ch. 04

The responding text was their signal, confirming she'd called the security guard up to her apartment. That gave him time to make his way unnoticed into the complex. Using the stairs, he'd safely reach Roxanne's apartment. The security guard would be back at his post by then.

DeVere's ascent upwards was slower than on previous occasions. His mind was attempting to clear itself of the baggage.

He'd known this woman for almost two years. They'd shared so many intimate times together. He'd made many tough decisions in the pursuit of his dreams. This was the toughest of all.

Nevertheless, this was a decision he had to make. Sentiment shouldn't come into it. He shook his head. That cleared any second thoughts. It was a technique he'd mastered a long time ago. By the time he arrived at her door, he was fully under control.

Roxanne answered on his first ring. My God, she was something! She was naked other than the semi-transparent, black negligee. No lingerie. No jewellery. No shoes. Just the slightest touch of make up. With her soft, wavy, red hair swept to one side, she looked perfection itself.

Behind her, scented candles dominated the interior, infusing the room with the smell of mango and coconut. The beautiful sound of her favourite Kenny G played loudly in the background. Almost too loud, but somehow right for the occasion.

Her nakedness shone through the lacy negligee as she turned and led the way inside. Her round bottom swayed in that way of hers as she walked, the aroma of her sensual perfume trailing behind her. Everything about her was telling him that tonight would be special. Very special.

Turning around to face him, she put her hands on the marble coffee table behind her, stretching backwards to allow him to drink in her sensuality. By arching her back, the dark nipples pushing against the negligee reinforced the delights in store.

"Welcome, Dominic," she smiled.

***

Palmer heard the doorbell ring. Using the headphones allowed him a cleaner sound and he whipped them onto his ears. Her door opened and closed. Her trick was inside the apartment now. If only she'd turn that music down he might be able to hear something.

Perhaps covering the headphones with his hands would help? Yes. A deep male voice, certainly. It sounded strong, confident. But then, Roxanne only entertained men of power.

The brief silence between tracks gave Palmer a few seconds of conversation. If only it was his voice instead of Roxanne's soft, melodic tone.

Damn! Palmer's cock was lurching to attention again. What the hell was it about this woman that had that effect on him?

The sound of the saxophone peaked as she began to speak again. What was that? She called the man by his name. Palmer was sure of it. What was it?

His foot caught the half drunk mug of coffee as he leaned forward, spilling it across the expensive carpet. Wonderful! Webster had warned him and the others he wanted everything kept in pristine condition.

How the hell was he going to explain that?

***

DeVere's body sunk deeper in the taupe velvet Carrosse armchair, lost to the sensation. Roxanne's warm body felt wonderful. Her near naked breasts cushioned the back of his head as three of her fingers rotated in firm circles across his temple.

The last of his tension – of his meeting with Giovani, of what had to be done – slowly left his body. His head grew light under her sensual touch. His body began to relax. His mind was consumed by the music filling the room.

Allowing him to rest, Roxanne moved to the ornate, silver bowl sitting in the centre royal marble coffee table. It was set on the arms of a statue, the entwined nude couple sending an erotic hint as to the content.

Uncorking a dark bottle, she filled about a third each of the two empty glasses with clear, green liquid. The slotted spoon she held over the top of the glasses held a sugar cube. Twisting open one of the little spigots protruding from the ornate bowl, he allowed a thin stream of clear liquid to fill the rest of each glass.

Waiting until the liquid turned milky green and the absinthe chilled, she climbed into his lap as she served it. She grew warm as his eyes focused on her nipples, visible through the gossamer negligee. Reaching behind her, she plucked two small, white pills.

"Like old times," she laughed, setting one tablet of Ecstasy on her long, pink tongue. Her fingers traced across his crew cut as she closed in for a kiss. Tenderly, she passed the pill from her tongue to his before kissing him passionately.

She took her own pill, washing it down with a glass of the emerald liquor.

Slowly, it began to take effect.

She loved watching others as their minds succumbed to the drug at the same time hers did. His face altered as lights made trails across his vision and his body began to vibrate. He sank even deeper into the chair, his head swirling, his mind drifting. The music got louder. It was inside his head as well as hers. Invisible feathers caressed his skin.

His cock began to swell.

Roxanne slid between his knees. It was as if she was in slow motion. Her hands floated to his slacks, her eyes locked on his as little by little, she unbuckled his belt and pulled it away through the hoops. The clink of its clasp provided an erotic contrast to the saxophone.

Drawing the zipper of his tailored pants down, the cock she teased from his boxers rose majestically to her touch.

She shook her head as he reached for her. Instead, she undressed him, only allowing him to shift position so that she could drag another piece of clothing from him.

Only when he was naked did she sit back, no more than two or three feet away from his feet. The drug was overpowering her, too. Her thighs tightened and relaxed. Her vulva ached with desire. Her body was on fire. She felt good. So very good!

Green eyes fogged with arousal, she pulled off the negligee and dropped it behind her. Her mouth open, her breasts tingling, her long fingers searched lazily for her navel, slowly, lightly, brushing around it.

DeVere's hard erection, pointing at the ceiling, fuelled her arousal. He attempted to touch himself but an instant shake of her head stopped him. This was her game, her area of expertise. She was in control.

Her hands slid to her breasts, her chocolate nipples rising to meet them. She savoured the firmness and roundness of her tits before taking her nipples between her fingers. Her eyes never left DeVere's as she pulled on them. His gaze never left the movement of her fingers.

One hand covered both breasts, kneading them. The other worked faster, two fingers inside, her thumb flicking the slippery button that hardened and grew under her touch.

Her muscles tightened around her two fingers, trapped them, held them, and then released them.

She rocked faster. "Yes... yes... yes..."

DeVere's stare was that of a hypnotised man. He wanted to touch himself, needed to, but she wouldn't allow it. Instead, she thrust her hips forward, providing a closer view of her working fingers. The blatant lewdness of her actions was an aphrodisiac for them both.

Her continuous moans danced with the saxophone like two lovers. Her hips rocked faster and her long, red hair weaved patterns across her face. "Yes... yes... yes..." Her head jerked back and forth with her simpers.

She stiffened as she came, her green eyes losing focus as they rolled upwards. Her body jerked. Her orgasm consumed her.

Even as the fireworks released themselves, she fell forward, her face diving into his lap, her mouth engulfing his member. Within seconds, his pearly man juice was exploding against the back of her throat

***

Palmer was sweating. He'd heard every sound, from her singing, humming, the music, their breathing, and their moans...

Attempted to picture the man with her, he saw only himself.

Then he envisioned Roxanne. Naked. She was firm, bronzed, and voluptuous in the right places. He wondered what she looked like between her thighs? Hair, landing strip or clean-shaven all worked for him, dependant on the woman.

He was sure Roxanne would be perfect. But he wanted to see, wanted to taste...

What were they doing? What would he be doing if he were there now? Touching her? Kissing her? Going down on her? What would it feel like between her thighs?

He imagined his mouth on hers, his tongue flicking across those full, red lips... his fingers cupping her breasts, thumbs strumming her nipples... his hand between her legs, stroking her wetness. He imagined her pushing him down, crawling on all fours to straddle him.

He wiped the beads of sweat forming on his brow with the back of his forearm. His pulses jumped. His cock was so hard it was hurting.

But those weren't his only thoughts. He was embarrassed. He was guilty. How could he feel this way? What would Kelli think?

***

Even as she eased Dominic DeVere's legs apart, the redhead was thinking of Jack Palmer. It was a long time since she'd been so taken with a man! He was so sweet, so gentle. She wanted to wrap her arms around him... kiss him... feel his cock against her. What would that feel like?

Returning her concentration to the man in front of her, she picked up the bottle of oil. Pouring the thick liquid into her hands, she covered her breasts - a slow sensual caress designed to maximise her pleasure and inflame DeVere's senses. It worked.

They were as firm and as perfect as in any hot-blooded male's fantasy. Whatever preference a man had, large or small, it always changed with one sight of Roxanne's majestic orbs.

Her slippery hands worked slowly and easily. The practiced fingers never broke rhythm as she spread the creamy liquid across every inch.

Finally satisfied, her oily hands returned to his thick cock.

Despite his earlier orgasm, the sight he'd observed had his penis steadily lengthening again. Stroking along his shaft until he growled, the redhead rested him into her cleavage. He growled again as he figured out what she was doing.

Clutching the full swells in her manicured fingers, she slid DeVere's manhood between them. His dreamy eyes followed her every move. They were half closed, narrowed, and full of arousal.

They hooded again as she started to masturbate him, easing his hips upwards as he strived to join in. "My God!" It was the first time he'd spoken for some considerable time.

He felt good, throbbing in her cleavage. His cock flesh was so soft, so wonderful against her skin. Every touch sent a jolt through her body, right down between her thighs.

Roxanne's eyes flashed. She increased the pressure, tightening her slippery breasts around his girth. They smiled sensuously into his, telling him the control she was exerting was as much for his pleasure as hers.

His whimper of excitement drove her on, as did the way he was attempting to thrust his hips. But this was her game. She was the one dominating the action.

Easing upwards on her knees, she changed angle, sliding him deliciously between her breasts until his balls rested against their plump undersides. This time when she slid her body downwards, the tip of his cock popped out above her shining globes. He growled again.

"Now," she purred, one hand rising to grip his chest hairs and tugging painfully on them. She was giving approval for him to take part. It was time to change from a cock masturbation into a tit fuck.

Gasping with excitement, the panting man thrust frantically upwards, his ass rising from the chair in an urgent effort to gain more friction. He was urgent, frantic, ogling her beautiful face as he began to fuck her tits.

The sight of his glistening purple dome contrasted with the flawless tan of her cleavage each time he popped out of her tit tunnel. Roxanne's mouth watered.

Moving her hands away from her gleaming breasts, she replaced them with his. Gave him the control he wanted. He gratefully took it, stroking, squeezing and manipulating her slippery tits.

He was panting hotly now, close to being out of control. His thrusts became more frantic, if such a thing was possible. Her long nipples were bullet-hard beneath his clutching hands. The pace of his thrusts increased, his hands almost violently squeezing the supple flesh. His balls sank up into the soft, fleshy swells. Again and again. He whimpered. He was passing the point of no return.

Roxanne felt his huge erection pulse strongly and prepared herself.

The first, long rope of semen flew over her slim shoulder and landed in the thick silk of her wavy, red hair. The second burst hit the underneath of her chin and ran lazily into the hollows of her neck. His face squeezed tight as his creamy cum continued to squirt, rhythmically hitting her neck and chest in long, warm jets.

"That's it, baby," she heard herself encouraging, her loins tingling at the feeling of satisfaction as he emptied himself.

Now for her need. She was so close she could scream. Her hand dropped between her legs and three quick rubs brought an orgasm bursting from her. A depth charge exploding in the sea.

***

Palmer lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the couple in the next apartment fucking like rabbits. At least, that's what he imagined they were doing. His headphones were off, the loudspeaker on.

Despite himself, he was unable to stop listening, like a voyeur, to the sound of their breathing and the growls, groans and moans.

He hated himself, but he just had to ease the tension. His hand squeezed and stroked his erection through his jeans, imagining he was the one with Roxanne.

He lay on the massage table in her apartment. She was leaning over him, straddling him. Her soft thighs were against his, her red hair framing her smiling face, his hands reaching across to stroke the soft skin behind her knees. Except it wasn't her skin he began to stroke.

For some reason, he checked to make sure no one else was in the empty room before unzipping his jeans and unleashing his hardness. His palm held it tight.

Eyes still warm, imagination still active, he saw her stretching down over him, her nipples gently brushing his chest. Her full lips hovered over his. Her wet mound teased the very tip of his shaft.

It was almost too much. His hand moved faster...

She was bending low enough now for him to kiss her neck, her throat, the contours of her breasts, her hard nipples. He couldn't wait, his imaginary hands pulling her down and allowing her wet folds to suck him inside.

Oh God, that was it! He came like a beast, the sound of Roxanne's next-door orgasm proving too much.

***

In Roxanne's bedroom, their reflection stared back at them from wherever DeVere looked. The eroticism of the mirrors never failed to heighten his arousal. Tonight his senses were on a knife-edge of sensuality. His orgasms so far were just an aperitif for what was to come.

He felt godlike as he moved above her, able to fornicate for eternity without losing his erection. The drugs helped. They'd taken a refresher before moving from the lounge to the bedroom. But it was the women who had her legs wrapped around him that was the real aphrodisiac.

Now, she was his to do with what he wanted. Fucking her had never felt so good. As he rose high above the beautiful redhead, thrusting inside her smooth sex, he was claiming his territory one final time.

The power of fucking this goddess of a woman was simply amazing.

He loved the way he made her groan as she stretched to accommodate his girth. He adored the way she slid locked her feet across his ass, pulling him even deeper. He grunted as he powered down hard into her, driven on as the mirror images around them confirmed his control.

Even as she dug her fingernails into his hard buttocks, his sweat begin to drip onto her body. It was another sign of his conquest. Raising up on his haunches, he pummelled her harder. This was to be a final fuck to remember. Grunting, he fucked her like an animal.

She tightened her thighs against his waist, attempting to slow him down and gain a second wind. DeVere would have none of it, his roar signalling he was picking up the pace. He was the one who was dictating, not her.

He had her close, too. He knew that. Pounding harder, she bounced on the bed as he took her to her climax. Shouting out as she came, the words that forced themselves from her lips made no sense. The intense, unintelligible cries ripped through their minds.

Satisfied with his achievement, DeVere gave a bestial roar.

The mountain below his testicles swelled and slammed between his legs. His orgasm surged through him, his body steadying like a stiff board as he fired into her... the final time she'd receive his tribute.

Afterwards, as they recovered, panting, he felt nothing. Not even regret. Tonight, he was closing the door on Roxanne, never to be opened again. Perhaps the woman that Erin had identified could be trained into an acceptable replacement?

"That was better than ever," he breathed into her ear. "Special. I'll remember tonight for ever, but I have to say goodbye."

***

Palmer didn't hear their final orgasms. He was in the shower, freshening up. He'd cum again halfway through their final fucking session.

It had been a long forty-eight hours, ever since Kelli had fucked his brains out two nights ago. Since then he hadn't slept much, and here he was masturbating himself to another orgasm, thinking of a different woman.

Was that what this stake out was all about? Falling for someone else? Or, at least, becoming infatuated by her?

Not only that, she was a hooker, even if she was a high-rolling one. Was it just that he wanted to fuck her? If so, did that make him any different to her? Or were his feelings something more?

He'd never been unfaithful in his life. What the fuck was happening?

Despite the shower, he felt grubby as he slipped into his clothes again. Grubby in his mind. Grubby in his old clothes.

Returning to the living area, he glanced at the clock. Midnight. He'd left the loudspeaker on, to the sound of music mixed with the groans. Now there were voices! He listened closely before giving a groan of despair. The Simpsons! She had the television on.

That could only mean one thing. The mark had gone. He'd left while Palmer was in the shower. Damn! Rewinding the recording, he listened to the end of their lovemaking. "That was better than ever," he heard the trick say. "Special. I'll remember tonight for ever, but I have to say goodbye."

He was right. This woman was special.