The Babes on Brentwood

Kendra Mercer untied the strings of her Missoni bikini and let them fall away from her shoulders, leaving the tiny triangles of fabric perfectly balanced on her firm, perky breasts. She let her body sink into the plush, cushioned lounge chair with an indulgent little sigh. Life was almost perfect.

After several years of dating Luke Prescott, the son of one of the most important and politically influential families in New York, she was finally engaged. Kendra glanced down at the 5-carat platinum sparkler on her left hand, admiring the way the sunlight bounced off the diamond. Her roommates, Lacey and Chloe had swooned with jealousy when they had first seen it. Their immediate stir of envy had quickly given way to more immediate concerns, however, once they realized what it would mean to their little social clique.

"So you'll be moving out then!" Lacey had moaned. "It'll be the official end of the Babes on Brentwood!"

Kendra didn't have to feign any sadness on that point. Ever since the three beautiful socialites had moved into the brownstone on the Upper East Side, they had created their own exclusive sorority. The parties they had thrown during their years at NYU had been legendary and their reputations on campus had practically turned them into social celebrities. Girls wanted to be them, and guys wanted to know them. And fuck them , Kendra grinned to herself, remembering back on the long list of sexy, intelligent, successful men that had desperately chased her over the years. Now the memories were all contained like chapters of her youth in the little black book that had grown dusty on the top shelf of her armoire since she'd committed to Luke.

Luke Prescott hadn't been that remarkably different from any of the other men in her life, but somehow he's been a better fit than the others. They both wanted the same things in life and shared the same goals. Luke was following in his father's footsteps, and Kendra had always imagined herself as the perfect politician's wife. She would be dressed immaculately, smiling serenely by her husband's side and effortlessly throwing fabulous dinner parties for all the most important players on the Manhattan scene. It was like she had been bred for such a role, she'd often thought to herself. And now, it would all be hers.

So why did it seem that there was a little cloud of dissatisfaction following her around and spoiling her moment in the sun? She tapped her french-manicured nails against the wooden arm of the lounger and frowned. What was it? Boredom. The word came to her mind before she was able to push it away. It didn't quite make sense to her on a logical level. After all, she'd been partying and dating since she'd been fourteen years old! She had traveled the world and been a front-runner on page six for years. There was almost nothing left to do or experience. Or at least there was nothing left that the rules of her lifestyle would allow her to experience, she realized with a vague sense of resentment.

The summer sun warmed her bare skin and impulsively Kendra lifted her head and glanced around the yard from behind her dark oversized sunglasses. Reassured that she was completely alone, she smiled and slipped her skimpy bikini top off, feeling her nipples rise up under the sudden exposure to the sun's rays. She almost never went topless, always fearing some idiot with a long photo lens would snap pictures of her and have them all over the Internet in ten minutes flat. She had to be careful after all... she was Kendra Mercer. A social gaffe or error in judgment could completely ruin her carefully constructed reputation. Such tragedies had certainly befallen lesser girls. She remembered all the scandals and the sudden announcements of socialites saying they were 'going to Europe' for a year to model or start some dubious fashion or make-up enterprise that would never materialize. In reality they had gone into hiding, and sometimes they were never to return. Public embarrassment was akin to a social death of sorts. And Kendra had always prided herself on being smarter than that.

Yet just a week before her engagement party, laying there nearly naked on a hot summer afternoon, she was feeling surprisingly risky. Her nipples thrust upward towards the sun, and they quickly began turning a sexy shade of bronzed pink. Impulsively, Kendra pulled an ice-cube out from the tall mojito glass she'd been drinking and ran it along her nipples, arching her back and letting it slide slowly down her flat belly. A pool of ice water quickly formed in her belly button as she let out a long sigh. She moved it just a little lower, the chunk of ice almost completely melting before she slid it past the bottom triangle of her bikini and finally let it go. The remnants of the ice cube melted there and began to drip in cold rivulets down over her clit and along the slit of her immaculate pink pussy. Kendra instinctively felt the familiar signals of arousal tightening in her loins. Oh god, she realized. What I would give to get fucked right now.

She momentary thought of calling Luke but dismissed the idea just as quickly. While their sex life had always been more than satisfactory, it had become rather predictable and stale. Luke just wanted to have sex, and Kendra wanted more attention to detail. She wanted him to make the effort to seduce her, and express desire for her and to make her feel she was the star feature of every wet dream he had. The clumsy groping after a long day, followed by sex that seemed on autopilot most of the time hadn't done much for her libido. She frowned and let out a long sigh of frustration. With it being this close to her wedding day, shouldn't her libido have been on fire?

"Uhm... hello?"

She suddenly heard the deep baritone of a male voice over her shoulder and her heart jumped up into her throat. Her hands immediately cupped her breasts, shielding them from the unexpected intruder as she sat up with alarm, looking behind her with panic.

"Who the fuck are you?" she cried indignantly, glancing around helplessly for her bikini top as she scrambled to her feet.

The stranger just stood there, staring unabashedly at her. How rude! she thought angrily.

"Well, are you going to answer me?" she demanded haughtily as though she wasn't in the vulnerable position of being nearly naked, her hands still clutching the warm flesh of her firm breasts.

"I'm Riley. The contractor? Your landlord was supposed to tell you I was coming today. I tried ringing the bell at the front door but nobody answered. I heard the music out back here and thought I'd try my chances." Finally he grinned, as though amused by the awkward situation. "Sorry I didn't mean to freak you out."

Kendra's eyes narrowed suspiciously. She did vaguely recall her landlord, Peter, talking about getting a contractor to do some renovations in preparation for the new tenants. Without Kendra's generous contribution to the rent, Lacey and Chloe had decided to vacate the house and move into a cheaper place, thus dissolving the infamous trio of the 'Babes on Brentwood' forever.

Kendra cleared her throat to break the silence, annoyed by the way this stranger was obviously still leering at her. "Well, do you mind turning around so I can dressed or are you going to stand there all day staring?"

He let out a low chuckle and slowly turned. "I'm guessing that was more of a demand than an option."

She rolled her eyes and quickly took the opportunity to re-tie her bikini top and turn down the music. She realized that she hadn't bothered bringing out a sarong or cover up, but that was no matter. She was used to longing glances and jaw-dropping stares. With her toned body, lightly bronzed skin and long flaxen blond hair, she drew attention wherever she went and was clearly above this blue-collar guy's reality, regardless of how cute he might have been. Look but don't touch, she thought to herself with satisfaction, letting him enjoy the exaggerated sway of her hips as she led him into the house from the backyard entrance. She imagined his eyes on her tight little ass, each round curve visible and barely hidden by the tiny string bikini.

"Do you want a drink before you start?" she asked in a pleasant yet professional voice. "Iced-tea? Lemonade?"

"Uhm, yeah, iced-tea would be great. With a little extra ice in mine... if you have any left, that is."

She glanced at him abruptly and saw the undeniable smirk. That little fucker! She realized he'd been watching her for a while, obviously enjoying the little show she'd put on with the ice-cube. Kendra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, silently praying he hadn't used his cell phone camera to commemorate the occasion. Cocky little bastards like Riley would probably take pleasure in selling them to the tabloids, just out of spite.

She made two glasses of iced-tea under his watchful gaze, making the decision to be nicer to him, just incase. She didn't want any trouble this close to her wedding day.

"So what kind of renovations is Peter planning?" she asked, trying to find a neutral topic for conversation.

"Mostly upstairs on the top floor. He wants to open up the wall from the bedroom to the office area."

Kendra felt slightly irritated that Peter was finally following through on the suggestions she'd begged him to make years earlier. Of course he's going to do it now that I'm moving out, she thought sourly.

"Well, as luck would have it, the top floor is mine," she said.

"I figured the top floor would be yours. Sort of fitting, actually," Riley said with a smile.

Kendra raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the insinuation, and handed him his glass. They both made their way up to the third floor in silence, although she could feel his eyes on her ass as they walked up the two flights of stairs. Get a good look there party boy , she thought smugly. Bet you've never seen curves like these.

Riley appeared to be around thirty years old, and had the arrogance of a guy that probably did well in nightclubs where drunken girls would easily fall prey to his physical charms. He obviously had a great body and by the fitted t-shirt he was wearing, he clearly enjoyed advertising it. With his dark hair and flirty smile, Kendra was sure he was skilled at snagging those one-night stands with an endless assortment of mediocre girls. He'd never get into the bars and events she frequented though. As hot as he obviously thought he was, there was a clear division to their worlds. He'd never be able to turn the head of a girl like her, Kendra thought to herself smugly.

"So...this is it," she said, gesturing to the third floor space that was her private lounge area combined with her bedroom and bath.

Riley set down the bag he was carrying and immediately began to survey the wall that he was obviously supposed to be bringing down. In fact, he barely glanced at her again. Unaccustomed to being ignored, Kendra found herself indulging in attention-seeking behavior by wandering around her bedroom and brushing her long blonde hair in the mirror. She lounged in his direct view, fiddling with her phone without bothering to cover up her scantily clad body. Riley continued making notes and taking measurements, occasionally humming to himself, appearing to be completely unfazed by her presence.

Finally Kendra stood in the doorway of her bedroom, hands on her slim hips, unable to resist arranging herself into a provocative pose. She tossed the full length of her blonde hair over a shoulder and sighed loud enough for him to take notice.

"So... when is all this... construction stuff supposed to start?" she asked innocently.

"Uhm... Peter said in about two weeks. He mentioned something about some engagement party thing that was happening first, so not until after that."

"Yes, that's right. It's my engagement party, actually."

"Ah, congrats," he said without missing a beat, still focused on his measuring tape.

"Yes, I'm finally getting married," she went on when he didn't say anything more. "We just put a down-payment on the most beautiful estate home, just outside of the city."

"Uh huh..."

"And well... yeah, so the girls are moving out too. It's kind of sad actually because the three of us used to be quite the big thing in this place. I mean, the parties we used to throw in this house..." Her voice trailed off as the flood of memories absorbed her thoughts.

"Well, we all have to grow up sometime, right?" he said. "Things change, everyone moves on."

"True," she said, feeling that nagging imperceptible anxiety beginning to grow again.

"And good for you for trying the whole marriage thing," he said. "I know I couldn't do it. I mean the formality of it, the end of single life, the monotony of being with the same person, every night... on and on..."

Kendra felt a lump beginning to form in her throat, threatening to close off her breathing, and she swallowed at it vainly, trying to ignore his rude predictions. He was just trying to get under her skin, she decided. It wasn't monotony if you were with the right person. It would be like a new beginning. Sort of.

"I mean where does all the passion go?" Riley mused, his words continuing to rub at a raw wound as he continued to jot notes into his book. "It's hard to get that feeling back... you know, that first urgent, sanity-shredding throb of seeing someone and knowing that you want to fuck them hard and fast, own them, and make them a slave to every dark, dirty physical desire you have. And knowing that they want to submit to all of it, reveling in every filthy cum-filled fantasy two people can share. It can be overpowering, right?"

Kendra stood there immobilized as the words fell so casually from his lips. Her pretty mouth was slightly agape while juices from her pussy began to puddle and soak her bikini bottoms. Fuck. She tried to remember back to when she'd felt that way for Luke and found herself frowning. Had she ever? Their initial courtship had been respectful and romantic. She had wanted to be his wife, not some whore on the side. She had obviously played the game perfectly because that Harry Winston was on her finger, wasn't it? Men didn't marry dirty sluts. And yet the thought of marriage didn't make her instantly wet the way the thought of unbridled dirty sex did.

"But hey, I'm sure it's going to be one hell of a honeymoon," Riley continued with a grin. "I'll bet your sex life is off the hook anyway, right? He's a lucky guy, whoever he is," he said running his eyes appreciatively up and down her body.

"Well... I'm the lucky one," she stammered. "He's a ... great guy."

He laughed. "You don't say that very convincingly."

Kendra shrugged. "Well, there's always room for improvement, I guess."

"Well..." he said diplomatically. "Maybe you just need one last wild night to jump-start all the excitement again. That whole stagette party thing is so cliché, right? And I mean it's not like you can really let loose with your circle of friends either."

"Actually, you're right about that," she conceded with a pout. "They'll probably just goad me into doing something outrageous just to trip me up on purpose. This whole scene is more pressure than you can imagine. I'm sure it'll just be another champagne night out, predictable, and probably no different than any of the rest."

"Maybe I can help arrange a more private kind of bachelorette party for you," he boldly offered, complete with a mischievous grin.

Kendra put her hands on her hips and glared at him with some measure of sarcasm. "I know what you're doing here by the way, and it's not going to work."

"Oh? What am I doing?"

"You think I'm going to eat up your little game and spread my legs and give you the satisfaction of knowing that someone like you nailed a girl like me ."

He roared with laughter. "A girl like you? You mean a spoiled little debutante princess that gets everything she wants and then wants more? A girl that spends her days shopping and tanning and whining about how her perfect life isn't just quite perfect enough? Trust me, I've known plenty of girls like you."

Kendra's face flamed. "Hah! You know, jerks like you aren't hard to come by either. I'm sure you enjoy your drunken fuck-fests with sloppy college girl sluts and forget them as soon as you unload in them."

His voice remained calm and controlled but his smile seemed to openly taunt her. "I'll bet you've been thinking about me unloading inside of you since the minute I walked in on you icing that hot little pussy of yours, haven't you?"

Kendra walked up to him and slapped him, unable to restrain herself from the dramatic move. She couldn't believe this arrogant prick would dare to throw out such obscene vulgarities. He was disgusting! He was repulsive! Yet why had the sudden flare of hostilities between them caused her pussy to throb with excitement?

"Fuck you!" she hissed.

He leaned forward and growled into her ear. "Are you sure you don't mean... 'fuck me'?"

Exasperated, Kendra shoved him back with both hands, turned on her heels and stomped into the bedroom, afraid of the way her mind and body was reacting to him. Avoid, avoid , her brain kept firing. You're happy and in love and he is so... beneath you!

She waited impatiently in the bedroom. She had assumed that he would quickly come after her, the way most men did when she pulled a scene like that. When he didn't, her ego became further irked. After a half hour of frustrated silence she pulled on a robe and tentatively opened the door. She felt a heady mixture of anger and disappointment. He was gone. But there was a note on the side table. Curiously, she picked it up and read:

'Home improvements or sex improvements? I'm skilled at both. In fact I have a highly discreet team of energetic guys that can be at your service anytime you need us. Just keep in mind, that wedding clock is ticking. Why waste time? 917-469-7882'

***

During the days that followed, Kendra's daydreams were ambushed by visions of hot men fucking her senseless. She imagined their cocks filling her mouth and her pussy, and even her tight virgin ass that she had always refused to her fiancé Luke. She grew even more restless as she began to resent all the restrictions that came with being Kendra Mercer. All she saw before her was an endless parade of socialite parties and charity events, being the perfect politician's wife. The more she thought about it, the more vaguely depressed she became. She began to convince herself to indulge in what she wanted. Maybe she owed it to herself to have that one crazy wild memory that she could think back on during those long days of marital monotony.

Coming home late one night from yet another social event with Lacey and Chloe, they ran into the two slutty girls that lived in the basement apartment of their house on Brentwood Street. They were obviously on their way out for the night, even though it was almost 1am. Cady and Raine were both wearing fishnets and stacked heels, their miniskirts riding up on their thighs. The edgier brunette girl, Rayne, rolled her eyes and took a long drag of her cigarette when she saw them, while her curvy roommate giggled instead.

"Coming home already?" Cady drawled playfully. "You're such good girls."

"We prefer to leave the nights of whoring to you," Lacey quipped as their Louboutin stilettos clicked quickly across the walkway, their shiny hair bouncing. Yet Kendra was dragging her feet.

Cady and Rayne were probably off to some orgiastic night of hedonism and debauchery, she thought miserably. She couldn't quite believe that the day had come when she was beginning to feel envious of them.

"Oh and don't forget that it's Kendra's engagement party this weekend," Chloe reminded the girls in a haughty tone as the trio of socialites walked up the stairs to the front door. She looked down on them with a disapproving glance. "Keep the noise down."