V is for Veronica Ch. 02

She's moving faster now, the fingers on her clit a blur. Her whimpers are rhythmic and picking up in pace and she's shoving it in and out.

I hear it then.

She's whispering and moaning my name.

"Fuck, Key, baby. Key, fuck, Keeeey," she pants and I'm undone. For the second time in an hour my belly is covered in cum.

Her moans turn into a whine and whimper and she chants "fuck me, rakeem, fuck me, fill me papi, please." Her hips lift up off the bed, and the screen goes black with the clap of her thighs. The video's over but I know she came hard and fast and she did it all with my name in her mouth.

Me: I'm going to tear you apart next time I see you.

Veronica: promises promises

Me: I'm a man of my word

Veronica: ill be waiting ;)

Veronica: I'm falling asleep. Luv u papi

I pause. She doesn't mean it like I mean it.

Me: I love you beautiful

I have ever since we were kids.

Fuck my life.

***

Work sounds terrible. I slept like shit and I don't feel like going in. I sent Veronica a good morning text and so far she hasn't read it and I'm afraid when she does she's gonna say some Rule 2 shit.

Rob's right. I need to go on the rebound.

Today, I have the opportunity to flirt a little, though. By special request, I'm heading to Mrs. Eva Lombardo's house to paint. It's not a big job and Mrs. Lombardo asks for me every time; I'm pretty sure it's because she likes to watch my ass when I paint.

I don't mind; she's hot and she tips. There are worse jobs.

I pack up my gear on my work truck and head to where the money lives.

The Lombardos have a huge house in a very nice, very white neighborhood. I have been here many times; putting up drywall, renovating rooms, painting the exterior. She manages to find something for me to do at least once a month.

I think she's bored. I've never met her man.

When I pull up, the landscaper is leaving, and I wave. Good looking dude, I wonder if he's by request, too.

I knock on the door. The door sweeps open after a moment, and there she is in all her glory, Mrs. Eva Lombardo, Bombshell and Natural Blonde. She looks great. I tell her so.

"Hey Mrs. L. You look lovely today. Jake says I'll be painting the living room, is that right?" I greet her.

An easy smile spreads across her face, her baby blue eyes glittering with mischief. I can't help but grin. She looks so devious, as though this is a clandestine meeting and not me doing a job she contracted and paid for.

That's her, though. She always smiles like she has a secret.

"Good, it's the hot one," she grins. "I asked for you, you know."

I pick up my crap and follow her into the house. "Did you say, Jake, please send me the hot one?"

"No, could you imagine? Jake would have come himself and then I'd be disappointed," she laughs airily. I let myself check out her ass while she leads me into a room she refers to as 'the front room'.

I think of Veronica's ass, like an idiot.

"I said, send Rakeem or bust," she tells me conspiratorially.

I shake my head and chuckle.

"What, it's true!" She smiles that secret smile.

"That's high praise, Mrs. L, thank you," I nod politely.

She giggles in her musical way, "Call me Eva, and quit making me feel like your homeroom teacher."

I laugh.

I begin setting up, moving things, taping sections off. When I turn around I realize she's right behind me on the couch that had been moved to the middle of the room in preparation for today. She's scrolling her phone, but she's not looking, not really.

She's looking at me. I shake my head and smile.

"Don't give me that look, Mr. Harris, I have to be here in case you need something," she uses that flirty tone.

"Does that make me the homeroom teacher?" I smirk, mixing the paint, glancing up at her.

Her bright eyes are on mine, calculating. She curled her hair today. It's honey gold and wheat blonde, with its highlights and its lowlights and lights in between, tumbling over her shoulder as she cants her head.

"That depends," she grins, eyes glittering. "Is that what you're into?"

I look at her over my glasses, amused. "Trouble? No, not particularly."

"Rakeem, I am a very good girl," she beams her bright white smile at me, turning up the wattage. I think about what Rob said about my playboy years. Maybe I'll flirt back today.

"Is that so," I murmur. I hold her gaze until she blushes prettily, ivory cheeks colored with a lovely shade of pink. I spare a moment to take her in, languidly stirring the paint. Despite the weather she's wearing a tank top, white, tucked into high waisted light wash jeans that hug her slim figure and bring attention to her shapely legs and nice ass. No shoes, yet her feet look soft and uncalloused, a French pedicure to match her manicure.

A fine gold chain glitters on the delicate bones of her throat and neck, a small, simple cross clings to her skin that has the slightest sheen of sweat from the flush that's spread across her chest.

What she's not wearing, I note, is a bra. Her nipples are at attention under the thin fabric. Fabric that perhaps in different lighting might not be so opaque.

When I meet her eyes again, they're wide and round, and her breathing is a little shallow. She licks her berry stained lips.

I can't help but grin at her reaction to my attention. I offer her a flirty smile of my own, turn away, and dip my paintbrush, placing a wide stroke of paint on the wall.

I turn back to her. "Does that look right?"

I'm surprised to find the look on her face has transformed from flirty to hungry. She sits with her legs tucked beneath her, hands in her lap, using her arms to push her breasts together ever so slightly.

"Yes," she says in a low voice still with the charming smile. "It looks perfect."

I laugh. She's fucking wild.

"Good," I say, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. I shake my head.

I get to work. She hangs around for a bit, asking me about my studies, my family, as she often does. Eventually she'll get bored and disappear somewhere in the house and I'll get to listen to music until I finish, but until then she's pleasant to talk to.

"How's your girlfriend?" she asks. She always asks this so I don't know why it catches me by surprise this time. Maybe because I don't know what to say. Do I just say good, and keep it simple?

I like simple.

It doesn't matter because that hesitation was like blood in shark infested waters, and she can scent it.

"You do have a girlfriend, right? Or was I mistaken? Maybe I'm mixing you up with someone else," she seizes the moment with a delighted smile. She's not mixing me up and she knows it, I've been working on her place for years. She even knows Audra's name and has seen pictures.

Nah, she's playing games, but that's okay. I'll play.

I don't answer right away, and I can tell it's making her crazy. She wants to push it, but she doesn't want to come across as thirsty.

She is, indeed, very thirsty.

I climb down my step stool and use the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face, knowing goddamn well what I'm doing. Not only do I know it, I sweeten it for her by flexing my belly. I resist the urge to burst into delirious giggles at the absurdity of it all.

I manage to hold the smile back when I drop my shirt, which is almost painfully difficult given her hooded gaze and rosy cheeks.

"May I have a glass of water?" I ask, continuing to avoid her question. I edge open the second can of Ecru Taupe, and start mixing that up.

"With ice?" I can feel her right behind me as she stands and I smile to myself. Wild.

"Yes, please, Mrs--...Eva."

"Mm," she hums, pleased. "I'll be right back."

I take the moment to whip out my phone. I don't know what compels me to do it but I open up the text to Veronica.

I find she's responded to my morning text.

Veronica: i don't want to do shit today

I snap a picture of the living room and send it.

Me: I'm painting a rich lady's house

Veronica: dam that looks big

Me: She's flirting hard today. She asked for me

Veronica sends me a side eye emoji and asks if she's hot.

Me: very

Veronica: u gonna hit that

Me: and lose my job?

Veronica: bet u wouldn't

Me: shes married

Veronica: lol so

Veronica: break that house

Me: dam girl I thought you didn't like cheaters

Veronica: ur not cheating ;)

I blink at my texts. Okay, so I guess everyone is wildin' today.

Veronica: when u come home unsatisfied, u know where to find me ;)

Me: what if I'm satisfied?

Veronica: cum find me and report

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks, and just from that I'm at half mast. I'm ready to put down my supplies and go to Veronica right now, especially after last night. I close my eyes just as Mrs. L strolls back in the room with water and a mixed drink of her own.

She smiles at me.

She's obviously gotten her shit together, but she stands in the doorway in a shaft of sunlight, and I know it's on purpose.

I was right about the shirt. The faintest outline of her pale pink areolas frame the very hard nipples that poke against the thin fabric of her shirt. She truly has a beautiful figure. Makes me think of Venus de Milo--classic.

I glance up from her chest, and there's a wolfish smile on her face. She slinks her way to me until she's only a couple inches away and presses the cold glass to my chest.

"Can I do anything else for you?" she purrs, her tone sweet and heavy with innuendo.

"I'm good, but thanks, Mrs. L," I smile.

She doesn't move away; instead she watches me drink. It's both awkward and weirdly arousing. I can smell her perfume, a floral combination, delicate and fresh. Like her.

"Eva," she purrs.

I dip my head. "Eva."

"You never answered about your girlfriend," she reminds me.

I look at her. I think of Rob and Veronica and their horrible influences.

I hand her the empty glass, lean forward and right beside her ear murmur, "I know."

She breathes out hard. I chuckle and head back to work.

We keep it cool for the rest of the morning, but today she doesn't leave my side. Around lunch I hear from Veronica again.

Veronica: so????

Me: So what? LOL what you think is finna happen?

Veronica: lemme see her

Me: Are you serious?

Veronica: show me

How the hell am I going to take a picture without her noticing?

Me: I can't

Veronica: plspls

Veronica: pls i need 2 know what im thinking bout 4 my next date ;)

Veronica: ur cock aaaaand

Me: Your mouth.

I receive a string of cry laughing emojis and then flames and a tidal wave. I smile. She's raunchy and I can't say that I hate it.

Eva however, catches me smiling and I carefully angle away from her so she doesn't quite see my growing erection.

"I'll be back in an hour to finish up Mrs. L," I inform her, and turn to head toward my car.

Lunch is peanut butter and jelly. I go back and forth with Veronica who is pushing me into this fantasy of being the contractor fucking the client. I think I've been cast into a porn. I adore her.

She calls.

"I'm trying to be your wingman here," she coos when I pick up.

"You're a shitty wingman, she's married," I tease. "Plus you just like pussy."

"That I do. And I want to watch you and your gorgeous cock plow this unsuspecting pussy until she can't stand."

"Vivi..." I did not expect this from her.

"Mmm, she's gonna love every moment, macho. She's going to be ruined for her man because you fuck so good."

My throat is dry and I'm speechless.

"I want to watch her face when she's at your complete mercy, panting and crying," she purrs.

I don't--

"Ugh, fuck," she breathes.

I sit up straight. "What are you doing?" I hiss.

"Thinking of you," she responds and I can hear the smirk in her voice. She sucks in a breath.

I lick my lips and swallow. "Thinking of me and what?"

"Mmm, thinking of your tongue," she pants.

"Veronica, where are your hands," I whisper but I can't keep the arousal out of my voice.

"Tucked away," she's whispering back and breathing hard. Oh my god.

"Vivi," I murmur.

She whimpers, huffing out hard puffs of air. I adjust my pants but there's nothing to be done. I'm rock hard.

She gasps my name and I can't breathe. I jog my leg and close my eyes.

"Fuck, I'm so wet, my fingers are pruning," she moans and laughs while I rest my poor sucker head on the steering wheel. I'm trying not to whine.

"Isn't it hot to you? Tell me what you'd do to her," she begs.

"I..." I'm searching my empty head for something other than the caveman demanding I hump Veronica, but I'm coming up blank.

"Tell me about her tits," she purrs.

I hesitate, but she moans, and I blurt, "They're a little bigger than a handful. Today she's wearing a thin shirt without a bra and I can see through it."

I clear my throat. This is so wrong, but I'm grinning.

"I want to see your mouth on them," she breathes. Christ.

"Her hips are broad and she has a plump round ass," I continue, gaining confidence. "Her jeans are so tight I can see the outline of her mound."

"Fuck," she pants. "What do you wanna do to it?"

I hesitate again. I've never thought about it, because all I can think of is Veronica. I get the impression that is the completely wrong answer and it's at odds with all my experiences.

"Veronica, you want me to tell you that I want to fuck another woman?" I feel guilty for how hard I am, and I can't tell if it's Veronica's sounds or the concept of fucking this woman which, frankly, sounds outlandish and out of the realm of possibility. It's difficult to connect to.

"Please," she gasps and I close my eyes, gingerly rubbing my bulge. It's painful and I want to take it out and deal with it but I don't dare.

"Bury my face in it," I rush out, picturing Mrs. L in the house right now, having no idea that there's a woman fucking herself to the thought of her. I shove myself into the fantasy.

Vivi whimpers.

I want to give Vivi what she wants. I imagine Eva's body swaying and the way she bites her bottom lip. I run my hand over myself again.

"I want to peel off her jeans slowly, and breathe her in. She's wet right now I know, she's been wanting me all morning--"

"Fuck, yes, I want you, tell me what you're going to do," she pants.

Jesus, I'm sweating. 'Going' is a very different verb.

"I w-...g-going to," I shudder and steel myself. "I'm going to taste her, I'm going to push her thighs apart and taste her."

Veronica pants and whimpers, "Mas, mas, papi."

My head is spinning. I give more. "I'm going feast on her pussy, fuck her with my tongue. I wonder if she's shaved or trimmed."

"Fuck, yes, waxed," she moans.

I grin.

"You think she's wearing anything underneath her clothes for me to get through?" I murmur.

"Lingerie," she gasps. "Something she picked out with you in mind."

"Does she know what I like?" I smirk.

"No," she's breathier now and her voice is strained. "But it won't matter--"

"What do I like, Veronica?" I press. She sucks in a sharp breath and I can hear her coming orgasm in her voice.

"Comfort!" she gasps, louder now. "It doesn't ma-matter-" she hums and it lights me ablaze.

"Why?" I demand when she trails off.

She can't talk, she's panting and about to cum but I press her anyway.

"I can't," she moans. "C-c-comfortablllle, please, Key."

"What do I like, Veronica?" I snarl and her moans rise to a fever pitch.

"I'm going to lick her front to back but not until you answ--"

"ME," she explodes. "ME! Fuck, meeee, fuck me, Key, fuckfuckfuck--"

I am completely taken by surprise. She's cumming hard and I'm holding my breath. I hear a closed mouth whine. I reach into my pants to physically adjust myself, but once my hand is on my dick I can't help but smear the pre-cum over the head with the pad of my thumb. I shudder.

There's a knock at the window. I jump and whip my head around.

Mrs. L's bright blue eyes, brilliant and sparkling in the sunlight, are laser focused on me, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

My jaw drops. Get the fuck out of here, really?

"Fuck, god. Shit, I gotta go back to work," I hear on the other end. "Shit, bye!"

Veronica hangs up and I ease my hand out of my pants, slowly, as though any sudden movement would cause her to strike. Why is this shit happening to me?

Her eyes are hot as she watches, but instead of tenting my jeans my cock is now against my leg and I am so hard I'm in pain, and my fear isn't enough to rein in my erection.

Not with the way she's looking at it.

Not after I had to describe eating her pussy.

Not after knowing how aroused Veronica is by the thought of me fucking her.

My heart is pounding. I am afraid to lower the phone. A predatory smile extends across her pretty mouth and I hear the mechanism of my door as she pulls it open.

"There you are," she purrs, and her voice is rough with arousal but I don't trust my voice to respond. I'm trying to hide myself from her like I'm in middle school, but there's nothing to be done. She's staring at my lap.

My dick pulses, twitching my jeans.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long," she leans forward resting her elbows on the seat of my Jeep. "I missed you."

I stay silent. I am hyper aware of her body, of the way her breasts are pressed together and lust and terror war in my heart. I don't want to encourage her, but I don't want her to see my fear.

She licks her lips and my eyes drop to her mouth and then immediately back up. This is real fucking bad. This is bad as hell. My face is hot and my cheeks and ears are burning.

"If you're done with your phone call I have some cookies inside," she smiles sweetly. "And I made lemonade."

I realize I still have my phone against my ear and I look at it dropping my hand to my lap.

She laughs, straightens, and with one more look at my crotch she moves to close the door. "See you inside."

And just like that, I'm alone.

I sit in the silence, trying to quiet my heart, my dick.

I text Veronica, you're at fucking work?!, but get no reply.

Me: I just got caught

Me: my hand was literally in my fucking pants

Me: Veronica

I breathe deep. Both fortunately and unfortunately I give in to my fear, and my cock eases back down while my mind races with a million terrifying thoughts. Am I going to lose my job? How the fuck do I look that woman in the face? What's going to happen when I get inside?

Jesus Christ, she saw me with my motherfuckin' hand on my motherfuckin' dick.

Hesitantly, I make my way back into the house, heart in my throat. When I get to the 'front' room, she's nowhere to be seen. I rub my jaw and scrub my face. I'm gonna have a stroke.

A plate of cookies and a glass of lemonade sit on the little table by my ladder.

I wipe the sweat off my brow. Veronica's going to be the fucking death of me.

I finish painting as fast as I fucking can. By providence or by design, I don't see her again and I have never been more grateful in my life.

***

After dinner, I show up at the Peña's house unannounced, which is not usually my style but neither is gripping my junk in front of a client, so here I am. Before I can even text Veronica anything, her mom is coming out, picking up a couple of packages from the stoop.

She spies me and smiles wide.

"Rakeem!" The way she lights up makes me grin. She hugs me once I reach her.

She kisses me all over my face and gives me another squeeze and I laugh.

"Doña Milagros," I grin. She melts the tension from my shoulders. I haven't seen her in a minute even though I have been a frequent guest this past week and change.

"Ven, ven, comiste?" She drags me in the house by my hand.

"Yeah, I just had dinner, don't worry about me," I squeeze her hand and smile. She doesn't give a shit, she's pulling out food anyway and I laugh.