Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 01byshandal©
For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.
His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story.
To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.
She was dancing with absolute abandon when he first saw her. Long blond hair swirling out, her long lithe figure wearing a short black skirt, her incredible legs encased in black tights, her feet in what only could be described as 'Fuck me' boots.
Misha stood, drink in hand just watching her, entranced. He had only been in New York for three weeks, and already he was enjoying the fast paced night scene, so different from his home town of Westwood just outside of LA where his life had been more laid back. Music blasting out, the atmosphere frenetic, the smell and feel of the club was pounding through him, and now he had another sensory overload the moment he noticed her. Unable to tear his eyes away he leant against the railing, his long body alert, watching to see if she was with anyone special.
Robin walked over with his arm around Joanie laughing, "See you've had your interest poked there Misha my man."
Glancing at his friend he smiled, "She certainly knows how to move." Looking around he noticed he wasn't the only one watching the woman, her arms up high above her head as she gyrated to the beat of the music.
"And how to get all the attention...She's loving it!" Robin's wife told the two men, "Just watch how she's thrusting out her breasts as she moves, every man in this room is probably watching them."
Misha's eyebrows rose up, his light blue eyes riveted on the way the blond was moving her hips, mimicking the movement of making love. Putting the beer bottle down on the floor, he walked up behind her and moving his own body up close to her back, he mimicked her movements, his hands holding her hips, as they danced together in a sexual and suggestive dance.
Suzanne felt the male body behind her and two large male hands at her hips, and looking over her shoulder as she kept on moving her body, she laughed with delight as she saw that the owner of the sexily moving mass was a tall, black haired and very good looking man.
Provocatively rubbing herself against him, she felt his hardness, and throwing her head back against his shoulder to look up at him she blew him a kiss before turning around to face him, her arms snaking around his neck. "Not seen you here at the club before?" she shouted over the music.
"First time. What's your name, I'm Misha."
"Nice to meet you Misha, but I don't give out my name to just anyone. My momma told me to be careful of strangers."
"Do you always do what your momma tells you?"
"Depends on what it is...."
Wrapping his arms around her tighter, her body so close to his that you couldn't slip a sheet of paper between them he bent down and kissed her.
Not the kind of kiss you would give to a stranger, nor to your maiden aunt, but a long slow, deep wet kiss that lasted for ages, causing his heart to beat faster and his already hard manhood to harden even more. Breaking the kiss he whispered in her ear, the music still pulsing along with the other gyrating bodies surrounding them, "Let's go and break some of your momma's rules." and grabbing her hand he guided her across the room and out of the club.
Walking along, his arm around her he asked her again her name, but she shook her head and pulled him into the small alley they were passing and leaning against the wall pulled his head down for another kiss. She was aggressive, calling the shots, her tongue swirling in his mouth, her hands reaching for his flies, her long right leg raising up and rubbing against his. Growling deep in his chest Misha pulled up her tight skirt, and grabbing her buttocks with both hands pulled her hard against him.
"Give it to me now. Give it to me hard." She demanded as she bit his neck.
Misha had never experienced anything like this, and lost in the swirl of red hot passion he pushed down her tights, and cupping her breast as she pulled out his rock hard shaft he positioned himself, entering her with a long sweep and throwing his head back grunting in pure bliss.
The coupling was neither long nor with any finesse, just two people having raw sex against a wall, but the explosion of movement was dramatic as they fucked, his mouth seeking hers, her nails scoring the skin of his back under his tee shirt, pounding away until within moments they both came.
Breathless he stood leaning against her, his heart racing, his face bent down buried in the side of her neck, his legs trembling with effort to keep himself up, and then he heard her laugh. That same laugh he had heard in the club. Loud and joyful like she knew something he didn't. "Not bad sugar, but lets get you home and see what you can do laying down." Pushing him back she pulled up her tights and wriggled her skirt down, "Where do you live?"
Zipping up his flies he laughed, "A couple of blocks further up, think you can control yourself until then?"
"That depends sugar on what you're offering to do." Misha just stared at this crazy creature he had only just met, and watched as she sashayed out of the alley into the street, her 'Fuck me' boots clicking along on the sidewalk, her small tight little ass twitching, "You coming big boy, or am I going to have to find me another."
He didn't need a second invitation and running to catch up he asked her again, "So what's your name, now we're no longer strangers?"
"Suzanne. Got any coke stashed at your place?"
That was the first inkling that Misha got that this siren he had just tangled up with had a very bad drug habit, and would end up turning his world upside down.
In the afterglow he lay there, her body sprawled over him, her hair tickling his neck, her small hand with the big silver rings next to his face on the pillow. Staring up at the crack in the ceiling of his small walk up apartment he felt stunned, his whole body relaxed, his mind unable to take in what had just occurred tonight.
He was an experienced man, good looking and tall, and he had never had problems with attracting women in his life, but this, this was something different. This was everyman's fantasy. A stunning women, fantastic sex, his control had been completely out of his hands as she had led him through an absolute unbelievable session of completely uninhibited and erotic lovemaking, the likes of which he had never known.
Turning his head to look at the clock on the bedside table he noticed it was almost four in the morning. He needed to get some sleep, as tomorrow he was due at his uncle and aunts for Sunday lunch and he had a hunch that this tempestuous bundle laying on top of him was not going to be easy to handle in the morning.
Suzanne knelt in the middle of his bed, completely naked, her high pointed breasts pointing straight at him, her face a petulant pout. "What do you mean you have to leave soon sugar. I thought we could spend the day in bed?"
Sitting there at the end of it he turned and looked towards her, "It's my family, Sunday lunch. Maybe we could meet up after, say about six tonight?"
"Tonight?" moving down onto her back and spreading her bent legs so he could see her glistening sex, "tonight I might have found someone else, someone who has a little bit more energy than you have, and can give me a little more attention."
Recognising the emotional blackmail for what it was, he grabbed one of her ankles and pulled, dragging her body towards him, "Sugar," he drawled in a mock southern accent mimicking her own, "it's tonight at six, or nothing. Get dressed and let's get moving."
"At least feed me before you kick me out."
"OK what do you want? I've got eggs I can scramble or I can make some French toast."
Getting back up onto her knees she smiled, "Make it a Bloody Mary. I like a liquid breakfast myself."
Misha just shook his head and stood up, "French toast it is, and a nice healthy glass of Orange Juice."
Watching as she crinkled her nose and slid off the bed, he admired her naked butt as she sauntered into the bathroom. This crazy woman needed a keeper, and ever the white knight he wanted to be the one to make sure she was kept safe, protected from herself.
His uncle Dmitri sat opposite him at the table, asking him how he had settled working for him at his Corporate Video Production Company, and how he was finding New York.
"New York is great, so much more vibrant and fast paced than back home. I'm really enjoying the work, there's so much to learn, and the guys are really helpful."
"You making new friends Mikhail?" his Aunt asked as she put down the bowl of roast potatoes in front of him, "I've got a friend Jeanette whose daughter Alice is about your age. I could get her to give you a call if you want."
Sipping the wine as he sat back in his chair, he smiled inwardly to himself. Yes he had made a new friend, not one his Aunt would approve of, but one he couldn't wait to meet up with again tonight.
"No that's OK Aunt Helena, not just yet. I'm too busy settling in. I'll let you know if I need any introductions, but thanks for the offer."
"She's a nice girl Mikhail. Very sweet, you could do worse."
"Leave the boy alone Helena, he's big enough to get his own 'friends', and Alice maybe sweet, but she also takes after her father, and although he's a really good friend, I would never call his daughter or him normal sized. Extremely large would be a good description Misha, even a bit kind actually."
"Oh shut up Dimi, the girl isn't extremely large, just well padded, and she holds it well."
Misha half heartedly listened to his aunt and uncle discussing the merits of Alice for a while, his mind really on Suzanne and last nights fantastic sex. The woman was so un-inhibited and vivacious that he felt like a moth drawn to a flame. The last few years he had been working hard to get his degree at UCLA, whilst at the same time working at doing a little modelling for catalogues and magazines.
The accident at the age of twenty-one that had robbed him of his dream to swim for his country had also taken away his scholarship, and left him with some scars on his leg and back, but he was a focused person and hard work hadn't fazed him, so he had thrown himself at obtaining his Business Degree, partially at the cost of his social life. Now he was going to make up for it, and New York was the place he intended to do it in.
Cutting in to the lively discussion about the merits of Alice he asked his aunt, "How's Corey doing up at Westchester, is he enjoying Berkley?"
Beaming at the mention of her son who was Misha's first cousin his Aunt launched into a long description of his first year so far, and how she was sure he was going to be the next best thing in the Marketing World.
Running up the stairs of the subway, taking them two at a time, he rushed weaving between the people in front of him who were walking much slower, and then down the block until he arrived at the designated place they had arranged to meet. Ten past six, and as usual as so many times in his life he was late, panicking that she might not have waited for him as she didn't seem the type to do so he cursed himself for not leaving earlier and miss-timing the journey.
She wasn't there! "Shit, shit, shit." He hissed under his breathe and started to pull out his mobile to give her a call on the number she had given him that morning as they left his apartment. He noticed her walking slowly towards him, her long legs in skin tight jeans, a tight white cotton camisole hugging her body like a second skin, her unbound breasts with the hard nipples clearly showing through the thin fabric, heavy silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears, her long blond hair hanging down her back. He watched as men who walked past her in the opposite direction did double takes, and he knew how they felt. She exuded a pure sexuality, hot and open, and the pull he felt was deep and primal and very, very masculine.
"Been waiting long sugar?" she purred as she walked up to him, placing her arms around his waist, "I needed to meet up with someone and it took a little longer than I thought."
"Not long, want to get something to eat before we go in to the movie?"
"Yeah, lets hit the Carnegie Deli, I like the atmosphere there."
Walking his arm around her shoulders, her hand holding onto the back pocket of his jeans they moved along making their way to Seventh Avenue, with Misha feeling as if he had just won the lottery, on a real high, the woman under his arm chatting away her words dripping into him as she spoke in her honey dew southern accent telling him about her favourite haunts in this buzzing city that they had both transplanted themselves into.
Sitting down at the table at the back of the Restaurant, he asked her about where she came from and what she did, and in-between picking at the food on her plate she explained that she came from South Carolina, the town of North Augusta and had escaped over a year ago to follow her dream of making it in New York on the stage. She told him she was attending drama classes and doing the rounds of agents and auditions, supplementing her money by working at a small fashion shop just round the corner from where she lived in the East Village with four other drama students, and that in the last year the only job she had gotten was as an extra in a TV commercial for beer.
Misha listened, watching her animated face as she talked, his Pastrami on Rye forgotten, drowning in her grey green eyes, her pupils dilated, as he got pulled deeper into her orbit, her attraction for him like the gravity of the moon, totally inescapable.