The Seduction of Jade Ch. 06

I might have gotten my kinky muse going but I still didn't know how it was going to be pulled off. It had been a few days since I had spent the night forgetting about the world in Kelsey Ann's embrace. I had been wanting to call her, but the words I wanted to say... I kept drawing a blank. She hadn't tried to call me either and I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad one at that point. Of all the people that had made a sexual career out of one night stands, here I was wondering what the other night had meant to her. The irony of it wasn't lost on me.

Even with my head somewhere else I had still sent a message to Jade and her friend, Lecia, and finally got the news I was waiting for. They were down for the fun of the adventure in fetish land. I was actually starting to get a little giddy at the fun I had lined up so far for the IAC gathering. I had even managed to keep a good conversation going with the star of my lust. There was a cute dinosaur doodle she had sent to me done in pen and highlighter she drew while bored in class that said 'I miss you!" Waking up from a nightmare of losing my life in a car crash and finding a good morning text from her would completely change my outlook on the day. Once or twice a week if I was lucky and could spare the free time, I'd even meet her and her young daughter for coffee and an orange smoothie that I didn't mind sharing with Layla.

Even through all of that, and how smooth it seemed to be going, that little voice in your paranoid mind tries to warn you there's other moves being made by her. That you better pull back some and reevaluate this inviting, tattooed flower because you can be sure you're not the only bee trying to pollenate her wicked garden. It didn't matter though. The guy at the print shop I used for customer photos and business cards told me I must be love struck because I left a new box of cards on the counter as I left the printing house. They say love is blind. People take that to mean an ugly partner can get a beautiful partner because loves looks deeper. What those people don't seem to consider is that the saying means you'll see the flaws and the heartaches coming down the pipeline and act like you don't have them in your sights.

I read a fantasy novel about vampires and werewolves, no not that one, and a line written in the book is one I haven't forgotten all these years later. It went something to the effect of, 'the heart can't grieve what the eyes don't see.' And I guess somewhere along the line, I began to live by that philosophy regardless of how a relationship ended. It was better to feel anything for a romance then to feel alone all of the time.

That's most likely why I do what I do for a living. When I'm behind my cameras I can connect to whoever or whatever is in the lens. For that brief moment I can be in my own world and enjoy the process. The results, well, those can vary but I've gotten better through the years of remembering to at least take the lens cap off first if nothing else. The group shoot was finally tomorrow and I made sure to get all of my gear together so I didn't have to bother with it in the morning.

***

Everything started out fantastically with the first few shoot appointments. Silhouettes of a guy using a needle in a window, another guy looking mentally or spirituality tortured in a single lonely hanging old style light, and even two demons of addiction creeping down a hallway to steal the mind of a pretty little paraplegic lost in her own body. I was digging the groove and the flow of the day. Right on schedule came the hour I had been looking forward to all day, the one that was going to be hot enough to melt wax. Yes, I went there and no, I'm not sorry for it either. (Laughing)

Lecia came in the room I had snagged for the festivities first. She was third or fourth generation Mexican American with dark, highlighted hair, dark eyes, medium height, a bit skinny but still cute enough for what was coming. Then Jade came in right behind her, both of them carrying bags with the accessories for the day. Blondie had her hair back into a ponytail and was adorned in a tee shirt and blue jeans. I couldn't help but feel a bit excited to see her. I don't know if it was to alleviate their nerves about the light kink of the shoot or just to relax a bit over all, but magically a bottle of Jagermeister appeared from a bag and both took a few deep swigs along with a beer that also poofed from thin air. I almost partook in a drink, but I knew this was my one chance for this and I wouldn't be able to face myself in the mirror if I fucked it up because I was shit faced from sharing in the Jager.

After finishing off the tall boy, the girls started to change. Lecia stripped down to a colorful bright orange bra and matching shorts with a mesh long sleeved shirt that still showed her curves without leaving much left to the imagination. Jade had taken her shirt off leaving a silky blue and black bra on and had unbuttoned her pants without taking them off just yet. She was just leaning on the wall talking to us with just the barest flush on her face from the liquor. She wasn't naked, she wasn't touching me, but my soul and package were rioting to kick Lecia out and just make it a personal, intimate, very intimate, adult video memory of a lifetime.

I endured though as she finally relaxed enough to drop her pants and be in only the bra with matching lace panties that hugged her curves in a way that should have been illegal. Lecia grabbed her candle and lighter while I silently thanked the photography gods above for this moment. Soon we had a lit prop and the medium Lecia was about to paint with was being patiently waited on for it to begin changing forms. In a minute or two of small talk that borderlined on sexual harassment and the laughing that was born from it, we had enough to make a run for pictorial immorality. Lecia started on Jade's back where the white pigment of the wax had a stark contrast to the colors of her tattoos. To her credit, not a peep came out of her as the liquid, age old substance kissed her skin. Lecia at my direction moved further down my luscious model's body until it hit the parts of her ass not covered by the panties.

At that point I knew the intensity of the heat on her sensitive gluteal area had intensified enough to make her bite her lip and stifle a small gasp. I was crouching down to not only get the best angle with my shots but also to ease the pressure of the kraken against my fly attempting to seize that sexy fox in front of me. My body was working the camera equipment, but my mind had gone off to Fantasy Island to work a somewhat different, more exotic, body. Right about then is when I looked at my watch and it struck me that forty five of my sixty minutes with them had already slipped through my fingers. I quickly had Jade roll over onto her back not only so my eyes could feast on her curves but also to get the "money shot" if you will.

Lecia moved in like a trained assistant and we wasted no time trying to get the lit candle, individual drops of hot wax in free fall, and her delicious, flat stomach all in the same shot together. I could hear other groups outside the door start to wrap up their allotted time together. I wasn't ready, this hadn't been nearly enough to slate my thirst. I couldn't stop time and I had to at pretend to retain a small shred of professionalism. I called it at that point. We started to brush off all the congealed wax off of Jade the best we could. It was random luck her arse was facing me and I did a very detailed brushing of her cheeks with my hand as I could get away with.

"I can't believe I'm letting a guy touch my ass to get it clean," a coyly laughing and mischievous succubus said looking straight at me as if she was directly answering the line of thought going on in my head. Almost on que, Lecia chimed in and I truly became annoyed.

"Alright, get out, we need to change." Without any ceremony, I got the hook and my hourglass was empty. I snatched up my gear bag and with no avenue to revolt, I left and shut the door quietly behind me. The momentum I had earlier had completely evaporated into the sting of unfulfilled erotica. The fact I sympathized wholeheartedly now with the cat in the Flintstones for being thrown out, didn't improve my mood in the slightest. To be a gentleman, I waited for them to finish changing and walked down with them to the lobby where we said our farewells, and I split. They went on to more adventures I'm sure and I went to the local sports bar by my apartment. I needed to put out the flames of my spectacular crash and burn.

Now that I was done shooting, I needed a damn good drink to console my ego and my heart. It was about six-thirty and the place was decently hopping with the dinner crowd. I walked into the corner of the bar and luckily my usual place to drink and sulk was empty. I didn't see either of the normal Hard Day's Night bartenders, so I sat patiently and watched part of whatever baseball game was being shown on the nearest big screen TV. I was sexually, artistically, and professional a little aggravated and frustrated at this point in the day and I highly doubted it was going to get any better. Lost in my thoughts, I finally saw out the corner of my eye someone behind the bar walking down to me.

"Oh, my, god! Derrick, is that really you?!" I heard my name and snapped out of LaLa Land. On the other side of the bar in front of me was one little Miss Selena. I had met her out in California when she was a freshman at UCLA. She went to the same gym I went to and we had been elliptical buddies on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. One day after the beginning of her sophomore year, she just stopped showing up at the gym, and I really never heard a good reason as to why. And now in what would be her first year of graduate school, she's standing in a sportsbar in front of me and excited to see yours truly.

"Long time no see, darlin'. How in the world did you end up here? And you could have at least told your workout buddy you were leaving." I had to give her some shit about it, afterall, I had missed not having someone to be petty with while being stuck on that machince of torture for thirty minutes or more three days a week.

"Yeah, I had to move back here when my mom got sick. I had to transfer achools, take a year off, and the whole moving home deal because I'm all she has. I didn't realize you'd miss me that much. And what are you doing here, mister?" She made a show of wiping down the bar while I gave her the Cliff Notes version of my coming to settle in Indianapolis. "I know you guys were close, and that's sad how his legend is over before it really began," she replied. "And now that I brought us both down and shit, did you want a drink?" With a tilted head and a silly smile, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Give me a double of Maker's Mark, and I'll put out some flames with it." Selena gave me a look that was a little complex for me to decipher and turned around to go grab my bourbon. She returned with said bottle of spirits and an empty short glass. As she poured the requested cocktail in front of me her curiosity got the best of her. "Why are you drinking dark liquor? Did someone not show up on time for a shoot? I believe you said you drank whiskey when you're peeved." Teasing me was one of her pastimes and she was in perfect form as she recapped the bottle in between us on the bar.

"Don't get cheeky, brat. A man left unfulfilled is lustful and irresponsible with his words." Said as more of a prayer than a retort it accompanied the downing of the Kentucky sweet water nicely. "Oh, really, mister bigshot camera guy?" She had that too pleased with herself look. I didn't know if it was the bartender in her doing what comes naturally or if she was really looking for a truthful answer, but either way the Maker's had loosened up my tongue. In between her filling drink tickets, I told my sorry tale to her. By the part of my leaving the IAC and coming here she had that look in her eyes again that I was mystified by.

"Don't go anywhere, I have to take this bus tub in the back." I nodded my head that I'd be a good boy and stay put until she got back. A few minutes later she returned and had a slip of paper folded in half in her hands. Leaning on the bar so that her face was very close to mine, she asked a question that peeked my interest into what she had been doing in the back of the house. "Do you want to place a bet with me?" I hadn't noticed that her eyes were gorgeous like this before.

"What kind of bet are we talking about here? I have to know what's at stake at the very least." I didn't think this was going anywhere particularly earth shattering but I was game to play along for a little bit.

"I'll bet you the money I need for my next semester of books against whatever you want from me." Her demeanor made it clear to me she was quite serious. "Okay, so if I believe you and the stakes are what they are, what's the bet?" I didn't know her angle but it would been fun to at least hear her answer.

"We see who has an orgasm first, you or me. If you go off first, I win. If you get me off before you nut, you win. And I'll be your willing toy until you toss me away if you can get me to climax. So, does that make it interesting to you?" I couldn't believe my ears. This little firecracker just challenged me in the arena of sexual prowess like she had any hope in hell of it working out in her favor. I couldn't help but chuckle as I told her, "Girl, you'd never make it inside the door of the bookstore."

A radiant smile broke out on her face like the mouse just went for the cheese and she was the waiting cat. The paper she had in her hand got slid over to me. She stood on her toes so she could reach my ear without being overheard. "You tell ANYone about this and I will cut your dick off." Even in a whisper, that message came across loud and clear. Standing back and in a normal voice she gave me a wink while saying, "I still have a hour left on my shift and I have things to do before I can leave. See ya later, D." And with a wave and a carefree attitude, she was gone. I had no concept of what Twilight Zone I had walked into by accident, but I could grow to like it here. Then I remembered the note and opened it to see what was on it exactly.

It had her address on it with a small message. '9 o'clock sharp, don't be late and bring a bottle of something, Lena.' I was still all worked up about how the afternoon had ended, but the way things were looking, it might not end so badly afterall.

***

I left and went back to my apartment to drop off gear and freshen up. After a shower and a bit of manscaping I got dressed and started to head out into the night. Right as I got to the door l recalled she had said to bring a bottle with me. I had been saving a David Nicholson Reserve for a special occasion and tonight seemed to fit that requirement. A quick grab of it and out the door I went.

The drive over to her pad was a lot smoother then when I drove down to see Kelsey Ann. Showing up early is on time and showing up on time is late. Even with finding her building and hunting for a spot to park I rang her doorbell at eight fifty eight and had a joke lined up in my head about being early. That was completely forgotten when she opened the door.

In front of me stood Selena. She was about five foot five or six inches tall. Her athletic build was only enhanced by her golden almond skin and seaglass like eyes that were bright and full of expectations. Selena's long, black hair was in a towel above her head drying off while she wore a silk chemise that hid very little as it clung to parts of her still somewhat damp but perky body. Obviously, I had caught her not too long after stepping out of the shower herself. "Hi, Derrick. I'm glad you found my place. Come in already and let me have that. I'll get some glasses."

She took the bottle of Reserve from me and started to walk away towards her kitchen. The way the chemise swayed with her hips was a sight to behold, mesmerizing even. With a light laugh I heard, "If the door shuts with you outsight, I might not open it again for you." I shook my head with a grin and entered the lioness' lair, closing and locking the door behind me. That's when I noticed the soft reggae playing in the background with the scented smoke slowly raising from a stick of sandalwood incense that had been recently lit.

It was a vibe that was relaxed and welcoming to me. "I've been saving that bottle for a special occasion. I'd be a little bummed out if you were the only one able to drink any of it." There was a coat rack by the door where I hung my jacket and looked around at her place. It wasn't anything extravagant for a two bedroom apartment, but she certainly kept a clean and tidy ship. Pictures adorned one wall by the kitchen of her family and friends. Past vacations, being on the track team, and other happy times had their places mixed in with loved ones. I know I was being a bit nosey, but photos are sort of my thing and I can't help myself sometimes.

One of the pictures held an image of a younger Selena and what had to be her mother by the resemblance and by the pride on his face framed by long dreads, her father. They were on a beach somewhere in a tropical paradise with smiles and holding hands. "That was the last photo of my mom and my dad with me before he died. We had gone to Jamaica to see where he had grown up." Handing me a short glass with ice and some David Nicholson, she continued. "I was only nine in that photo. Dad died about a year after it was taken from a massive coronary. My mom was devastated by his passing. He was the love of her life and she never really wanted to meet anyone else, even now, because no one would be able to make her smile like he did in her words." She turned and with a graceful walk, made her way over to the couch in the living room area of the apartment.

I followed her over listening to the tales of her parents that I hadn't heard before now. We had talked about quite a few things while at the gym, but I realized none of what was discussed ever touched on her family. To hear Selena narrate a part of her life that was unknown to me, made me take a new assessment of the woman sitting so close to me. She wasn't shy by any means and could weigh in on topics from shot gunning beers at a party to why the Colts needed a great quarterback to get them back to the Superbowl. Getting to see the way she changed in tone and attitude when talking about her parents though, showed she had a level of maturity I had not quite given her credit for.

It was for her love of her family and the health issues her mother had been facing that had made it necessary for a young college student to move back home to help out. It was a bit foriegn to me in the concept. My father and I would most likely never speak another sentence to each other before he died, and here she gave up a full ride at UCLA because her matriarch needed her. "She's gotten better the last few months, but she's not getting any younger either. Half the time I think she's too stubborn to get completely well because it would take too long and the other half of the time I think she'd be ok with crossing over if it meant Dad would be waiting for her."

Her father had been in oil transport logistics for ExxonMobil. He sounded like a really standup man for both his carrer and his family. I traded her family memories with insiders stories about the more ridiculous things I had witnessed in L.A. We shared and laughed over the recountings we told each other dealing with life and living it to the fullest over a few refills of glasses. She at some point took her hair down from the towel and looked even more alluring for it. She was in a natural state and I was hard pressed to name a woman more stunning then her at this moment in full makeup and dressed to kill. The electricity she gave off grew in intensity the more she looked at me over the top over her glass and it was hard to miss. After a story telling of an incident I had once with Slash from G'n'R at a street side fish and chips vender came to an end, she excused herself giggling and went to answer the call of nature.