Sweet Dreams

"You can go right up, ma'am."

When the door first opened, Chloe drank in the opulence of the place. There was a full bar, of course, a leather couch and chair, a wall full of books, but what really surprised her was the presence of a baby grand piano. And what surprised her even more was that Brad was playing it. A soft, happy piece.

She walked up and stood next to him. "I didn't know you played."

He shrugged. "Quite a bit you don't know about me, Chloe."

"What is it?"

"Mozart's Piano Sonata No. 11. One of his cheerier pieces. Requiem in D Minor is a true buzzkill." He closed the fallboard and looked her up and down appreciatively. Her dress hung off one bare shoulder, dipping low in the back, ending in an asymmetrical hem just above her knees.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he said brightly.

She looked at him and gave the speech she'd carefully prepared that evening. "I think we should have sex."

He stared at her for a good five seconds before he said, "No."

"What do mean, you don't want to have sex with me?" Chloe said, desperately trying not to sound whiny.

"Chloe, let me ask you something. Would you be happy with just one night with me?"

Chloe thought about it a moment. "Yes," she lied. Of course she wanted more than one night with Brad. She couldn't pretend that she didn't have real feelings for him. And if Brad was someone different, someone who could have a monogamous, loving relationship with a woman - her, for example - she'd grab it in a heartbeat. But as that great moral philosopher Mick Jagger put it, you can't always get what you want. Chloe Ellis would take what she needed.

"Well, I wouldn't be." For a moment, Chloe had to check to make sure it was Brad talking. "I greatly enjoy your company, Chloe, and don't want a shag and run."

Chloe tried to make sense of this. "So what do you want to do, go on dates?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

Chloe shrugged. Okay, we'll go on a date, a nice restaurant, a great dinner, some wine, and then you'll take me back to the penthouse where I'll spend a half hour grinding my pussy against your mouth. Sounds like a plan.

* * * * *

It didn't go down - no pun intended - quite like that. Not at all like that, actually. Oh, the date part was fine. Brad pulled out all the stops: the finest seafood restaurant in town, with a chef that Brad personally knew, of course. The food was great, and the conversation was even better. Chloe suddenly realized that they'd been in the restaurant for over three hours. She gave him a flirty look, and then it was off to the penthouse, where he'd spend another three hours taking her clothes off before he fucked her into next week.

Instead, he took her home, gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, and left.

* * * * *

The second date was perfect. Elise had helped Chloe pick out a breezy sundress that Elise assured her made her look eminently fuckable. Chloe and Brad had a picnic lunch in the park, then walked hand-in-hand along the shops, Brad peering occasionally into one or another and finding some insanely-expensive object that he wanted to get for her. She reluctantly demurred each time.

They wound up sitting at a table eating ice cream cones. They talked about the various people in the office, about Elise's matchmaking skills, about what they liked about the city and what they didn't, agreeing that seeing the sun setting over the Pacific Ocean made whatever challenges Los Angeles posed bearable. They even talked about her kid. They enjoyed each other's company so much that there wasn't more than a time or five that Chloe imagined herself lying on the picnic blanket, her legs and arms wrapped around Brad as his long, thick cock plunged in and out of her.

They got pizza for dinner, then he drove her home, gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, and left.

* * * * *

Chloe was just starting to get ready for her next date with Brad when the doorbell rang. She answered the door and was handed a big box and a smaller one. She took them upstairs and opened them. The larger box contained a dress, the most beautiful one Chloe had ever seen. It was silk, a soft beige, floor length with a long slit up the right side. A not too daring neckline, just enough to reveal the inner globes of her breasts, and with built-in supports so that she didn't need to wear a bra. It fit her perfectly, and she wondered for a moment how Brad had managed that, and then she realized that, well, it was Brad. The smaller box contained beautiful silver shoes; she couldn't remember the last time she'd worn stiletto heels.

She got dressed, put some final touches on her make-up - some fuck-me red lipstick, some smoky eye shadow did the trick - then teased her hair down in soft waves over her shoulders. She checked herself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom.

Chloe knew she was pretty. But tonight, she looked beautiful.

She'd never been to an opera before, although from what she'd heard, if you were going to see an opera, La Traviata was the one to see. And Brad had brought his A-game. A limousine picked her up, and he couldn't have looked better himself: black suit, crisp white shirt, hair arranged perfectly, stubble trimmed to just the right length. She delighted in the stares of the men at her, the women at Brad. Yes, they looked like the perfect couple.

And a private booth! Halfway through the first act, Chloe realized she couldn't understand any of it, so decided to just enjoy the music while she cuddled up against Brad. Boy, that woman - Violet? Vivian? Violetta? Whatever - sure could sing! Her mind wandered off to the Jackson Browne song.

Halfway through the third act, Chloe leaned closer and whispered, "Brad, did I ever tell you about the third-date rule?"

Brad smiled hungrily. "I might have heard a thing or two about it."

* * * * *

Surprisingly, Chloe's first orgasm wasn't in the private box at the opera house. Oh, it was a near thing. They became increasingly flirtatious throughout the third act, with Brad's hand sliding underneath the slit in her dress, gently caressing her knee. She spread her legs wider, and Brad happily accepted the invitation, his fingers painstakingly wandering up the inside of her thigh. She felt him tense as his fingertips crossed from her stockings to bare skin. She reached over and gently caressed the very prominent bulge in his pants.

And then the final aria concluded, the crowd was on its feet cheering and applauding, and so was Brad, although he seemed to be hunched forward at a slight angle as if to ease some discomfort in his groin region. Chloe didn't stand; she was close to being wrecked, and her attention was diverted to wondering if the people in the seats below could smell her arousal. Oh, well, Prime Vibrator Material:

His fingers pressed against her sodden panties, and she quickly unzipped him. His cock sprung out like a fox from its lair, and Chloe wasted no time. She moved out of her chair and straddled him, reaching with one hand to pull her panties out of the way and with the other to pull his cock up and place it in position. She gave a delicious moan as she sank down on every inch of his big, gorgeous dick.

No, Chloe's first orgasm - and Brad's, for that matter - came in the limousine. No sooner had the door of the car closed behind them than he was on her, pressing her down on one of the benches and hiking her dress up to her hips. He ripped her lace panties off as though they were made of paper, and then his mouth was on her.

She remembered her ex-husband wanting to make it "special," and Brad knew how to make it very special indeed. First, there was the look of sheer rapture on his face as he gazed down at her freshly-trimmed pussy. There were the sounds he made as his tongue pressed against her labia, then up her slit and over her clit and then back down, again and again. There was the feel of his tongue pressing deeper inside her. There were his hands moving up her body, cupping her breasts while he kneaded her nipples between his spread fingers.

All of that - the look, the sounds, the feel of his tongue and his fingers - sent her rocketing toward her orgasm, but what tipped her over was when his tongue returned to her clit, the tip flicking across it at first, then around it in slowly tightening circles, and then pressing flat and hard against it.

She collapsed back on the bench, but only for a moment. No sooner had he sat back than she was kneeling on the bench beside him, fumbling with his belt buckle, then with his button and zipper, until she finally reached in and freed him.

Chloe had never given any thought to the appearance of a cock. Yes, an erect one aroused her, but there was nothing special about it. In fact, sometimes, say if it was particularly veiny, it could look rather unappealing.

But Brad's cock was truly beautiful. Long, thick, hard, and straight, so erect that the foreskin pulled back from the mushroom cap... "Lemme suck your cock," she whispered, as she pulled him into her mouth, swooping down on half of it. She sucked back to the tip, then swallowed him again, farther and farther, until she realized that at this angle at least she could take him in her throat.

She pulled him out suddenly as the driver announced, "Mr. McAllister, we've arrived."

Brad coughed and said in a strangled voice, "Not quite yet, James. A few more minutes." He pressed a hand against the back of Chloe's head, and she needed no encouragement. Cradling his balls in her hand, she swallowed him to the root.

It didn't even take a few minutes. She began bobbing up and down the length of his cock, then sucked hard on the head, her hand furiously stroking the shaft. He gave a guttural groan, and his cock pulsed once, then again and again and again, and suddenly her mouth was full of his thick, salty cum. She eagerly swallowed it, then descended again to lap up the small rivulets of his cream that had spilled from her mouth.

Chloe's second and third orgasms came at Brad's piano. He was hard again by the time they got into the elevator, and they kissed and stroked each other on the ride up, mumbling "clean" and "the pill." When they got to the penthouse, he picked her up and carried her over to the piano, stretching her out on the top. His mouth started to descend on her again, but she grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged him away. "I want you to do that some more, Brad, but right now I really need your cock inside me."

He didn't look at all disappointed.

She slid off the piano to her feet, then slowly tugged the dress up and over her head. Brad's erect cock was sticking out of his pants, and maybe it was an optical illusion, but she could swear it got even bigger and harder as he eyed the length of her body, naked except for the garter belt and stockings. How empowering! Few women had full confidence in their looks, and Chloe wasn't one who did. But the way Brad looked at her - pure carnal desire mixed with sheer wonder -- made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Are you going to stare or are you going to fuck me?" she teased.

That jolted him into action. "Oh, believe me, Chloe Ellis, I'm going to fuck you." He spun her around and bent her over, against the piano. "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before."

"Promises, prom - OH!" And then after two months of pretending, two months of denial, he was wonderfully, gloriously inside her.

"God, you're big!" she gasped as she took more and more of him, slowly, inch after inch, until he was buried all the way inside her. He held it there as she mumbled, "So deep... so deep..." He slowly withdrew, then slowly penetrated her again, then once more.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her up. Hair-pulling. Definitely hot. Definitely Vibrator Material. "Is this how you want me to fuck you, Chloe?" he whispered in her ear. "Or do you want me to fuck you harder?"

Just the tip of his cock was still inside her. "Harder..." she barely managed.

"What's that? Didn't hear you." His turn to tease.

"Harder. Fuck me harder." Her voice was barely audible; she could feel the heat building inside her.

He gave a sudden thrust, nothing slow about this one, and her whole body began to tremble as she took him to the hilt. "Like that?" he said as he pulled out and quickly plunged into her again.

"Yes!" she sobbed. "Fuck me just like that!"

And so he did.

Chloe wasn't sure exactly what triggered her orgasm. It could've just been the feel of so much cock inside her, more than she'd ever had. It could've been the hair-pulling, the submission to his dominance. It could've been just the way his dick pounded into her, fucking her just the way she'd always wanted to be fucked but never had been. It could've been the incredibly sexy feel of his shaft spearing deep inside her while she could still taste his come in her mouth. It could've been some of that, it could've been all of that, but when she came, she came so. Fucking. Hard.

She knew exactly what triggered the climax after that. He was still hard inside her, she realized. Now she was moving back against him each time he penetrated her, panting, "Don't stop! Keep fucking me until you come!" And then he grunted, holding her tight as he thrust into her one last time and held it there, and she could feel her body come apart as every inch of his cock throbbed inside her.

Chloe's fourth, fifth, and sixth - well, to tell the truth, she pretty much lost count after that - came on the couch. All she knew was that sometime during that session bells and whistles went off and HIGH SCORE flashed in big neon letters.

Chloe decided she really liked a number of things. She really liked Brad on his knees in front of her, her legs spread wide. She really liked to rake her fingers through his hair, freeing it from the prison of his pomade, turning it into a tangle of riotous curls. She really liked the way he took his time with her. Not like in the limousine, although the climax he'd drawn from her there was nothing short of spectacular.

But that was rushed, and this wasn't. In fact, this was perfect. He'd leave gentle bites on the inside of her thighs, then waft a warm breath across her drenched pussy. Sometimes his tongue would dabble inside her, sometimes it would just ghost across her lips, sometimes it would dawdle over clit, while the heat burned ever brighter inside her, until finally she arched against him, grinding her pussy against his mouth, her fingers tightening in his hair, and for a moment she wasn't sure if her climax would ever end.

It did, of course, but no sooner had it than he slipped one long finger inside her. She felt her vagina clench around it, and then it was joined by another, and he was twisting just so, hooking it just so, finding places inside her that she'd only heard about but dear God it was so fucking good. When she finally came down he grinned up at her, his face soaked with her juices. "Want to go for a ride, love?"

Love. Oh, I like that. "Would you like to ride my cock, Chloe." Yeah, okay. "Would you like to ride my cock, love?" She could actually feel her pussy gush.

He turned and sat down, and she climbed onto his lap, planting one foot and raising up, then reached down, groping for his dick, finding it, pulling it up so that it was pointed straight up at her pussy. She gasped as the crown breached her. She sat back slowly, finally giving a little roll of her hips, delighting in the feel of all of his cock inside her once again.

She watched beads of sweat break out on his forehead, and heard his breath coming in harsh rasps, as she swiveled her hips while she rode him, giving them both wonderful new angles of penetration. His pulling her down on him and fastening his lips around one nipple, then the other, certainly helped her climax along.

But it was probably the finger in her butt that did it. He stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked it, then it traveled over her back, and then it was circling over her tiny hole, slowly, then pressing harder against her, seeking entry. In a span of a few seconds she want from What are you doing? to that doesn't belong there to actually, that doesn't feel too bad to holy shit that feels good! His finger was all the way inside her ass at this point; she could feel it pressing against his cock through the thin skin that separated the two channels, and she barely had time to scream, "I'm coming!" before she rocked up and down on Brad, his cock spewing thick jets of semen inside her as she spasmed on top of him.

She stood up, a little unsteadily, and felt his semen spill from her pussy and trickle down the inside of her thighs. "I really need a shower," she said. Then she gave him a sexy grin - well, as sexy a grin as Chloe Ellis could give, but she bet it was a good bit sexier than what she could have mustered that afternoon - and said, "Wanna come along?"

A foray with a past lover had had taught Chloe that "safe sex" had a whole different meaning in the context of screwing in a shower. But this was Brad, and this was Brad's shower, and whatever he had put in it gave firm footing. That wouldn't have been a problem while he was eating her out anyway, her body pressed against the wall as he fucked both her holes with his fingers while he lavished attention on her clit, holding both of them all the way inside her so that he could draw out another orgasm from her.

It did come in handy, though, when he stood, looped his arms under her legs, and cradled her ass in his hands. He let just the tip of his shaft slip inside her, then thrust up into her as he dropped her, letting gravity handle the rest of the work. Her hands fell away to her sides, she was completely at Brad's mercy, panting "gonna come... gonna come..." as he tossed her up and down like a rag doll, impaling her on his hard cock again and again.

When she was done, he gave her a slow, leisurely kiss. "Where do want it, Chloe?"

She was on fire. "Fuck my mouth, then I want to watch you come."

He pulled her up and off him, and she quickly sank to her knees. Brad stroked his shaft, then guided it into her open mouth. He piled her hair on top of her head to hold her steady, and fuck her mouth he did, thrusting his cock to the back of her throat each time he pulled her toward him. She took him as deep as she could, pressing her hands against his thighs to keep him from penetrating too far.

Finally, she pulled back, letting his cock slip from her mouth, then wrapped both hands around it, stroking it furiously, inches from her lips, her eyes fixed on his. And God, it was like he'd been in prison for twenty years, because the shaft bulged, the slit gaped open, and thick ropes of pearly white come shot from the head, splashing across her cheeks and chin and trailing into her hair. She swallowed what had spilled into her mouth and let the water sluice down and wash the rest away.

Of all the surprises Chloe experienced that night, the biggest was that Brad McAllister - the supremely confident, magnetic Brad McAllister, the sex God Brad McAllister - was a cuddler. They finally made their way into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. The bed. Oh, yeah, that would be a good place to have sex. Instead, after a few tender kisses, she turned on her side and he spooned her, his arm folded around her and holding her close as they drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

Chloe woke as the sunlight streamed through the windows, and her first thought was that Brad would probably be content to spend the entire day with his head between her legs. Because that's what he was doing right now. Nothing hurried, no fingers stretching her vagina. (Or her butt, and the remembrance of that sent her down pathways she'd never even considered.) Just his tongue, gently licking around her pussy and every now and then probing inside it.