Business & Pleasure Pt. 04bythesoundandfury©
Part IV: Twin Problems
Kevin shows Nicole and Taylor Claymont around DC. Leah wonders what it would be like to be in Adrianna Giuliani’s shoes for a day.
The Sunday after the Giuliani's Midsummer Night Party was spent in recovery mode. Kevin thought he had refrained from drinking too much, sobering up enough to drive home sometime around 1 or 2. His head told him a different story. It was also recovery mode for his conscience, which was feeling particularly black this fine Sunday afternoon.
He'd been having an affair with his boss, Adrianna Giuliani, for nearly two months, ever since he'd been promoted to assistant director under the lovely Italian. Since then, his world had undergone a rollercoaster of emotions: guilt, lust, pleasure, jealousy, love. Every time he came home to his beautiful wife, Karen, he was reminded of the vibrant woman he was betraying. She was everything to him; she was the college girl who tutored him on Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, and was the woman who urged him to stand up for his benefits when DWW was sticking it to everyone. That hadn't ended well, but her support never wavered. Every time he came home, those beautiful green eyes reminded him that this was a woman worth fighting for, worth standing by for.
And yet, when he was in the presence of Adrianna, his resolve melted like snow in Southern Italy. She was all the things his wife was not: no-nonsense, unflinchingly confident, untouchable. The difference was that he could touch her. He could do a lot more than that. At times, life for Kevin felt like a dream. The olive-skinned Mediterranean was like the girl in high school who wouldn't look at him twice, yet whose thoughts would fill his restless nights. Now, he was in bed with the prom queen, or the cheerleader captain, or, most appropriately of all, the exotic exchange student. And she wanted him right back. There was no reluctance to her sweaty embraces or her nighttime moans.
Every time he made up his mind to end the affair and return to his beautiful red haired wife, all Adrianna would have to do was shut the door, put her arms softly around his neck, and stare up at him with those deep, dark eyes.
Last night was a bit over-the-top, even for Adrianna's standards. They'd fucked each other in the study, just two floors above his wife, not to mention a large amount of guests. It was reckless. For the nth time, Kevin decided that things had to end. Tomorrow was going to be the day. If he had to do it over the phone, then he would. If he had to close his eyes in her presence, he would.
While Kevin's head was splitting with both guilt and hang-over, it was all Karen could do to keep her stomach from heaving. Nothing worked; not the cold shower, not the coffee, not the extra sleep or greasy food. All she could do was pop Tylenol and hope she could keep the pills down long enough for them to work. She could still detect the aftertaste of gin through the bile and the dirty tang of smoke that lingered in her throat. Somewhere, she must have secured a cigarette while her husband was up in his business meeting with that curvy young boss of his. For one moment, she grew nervous that her husband saw her smoking (a habit she'd developed of late), but then her stomach cringed and she buried her head in the toilet.
Kevin was there to help her, holding her red ponytail out of the porcelain bowl as she dry heaved. She looked at him and imagined what she must look like right then: pale, clammy skin, blood-shot eyes, greasy, unwashed hair. A monster. A slutty, out-of-control monster. Karen had her suspicions about her husband and his boss. She wasn't stupid. She could read body language. If nothing had happened, she at least knew that Adrianna Giuliani harbored some kind of feelings for Kevin. But was anything that they'd done any worse than what she, herself, had done? And in the same house as her husband, during a business meeting?
She wretched again and Kevin cooed somewhere above her, smoothing his fingers over he sweaty brow and rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. Sure, she thought, he was here now. But what about the week days? What about the week nights? What about their bedroom, and her needs?
And once again, the guilt returned. Had they talked about their problems? Had she voiced her complaints? Had they tried to work these problems out together, or had she taken matters into her own hands?
And then, the thrill. It was so bad. Her heart fluttered at the memory of her encounter the night before with Roberto Giuliani. She remembered his strange cock sliding into her from behind for the first time. She remembered the way it pulsed in her mouth as she worked it with her tongue. With him, with the other men, there were no expectations. She wasn't his wife, or his companion, or his best friend. To him, she was a fuck. And that was so fucking thrilling.
On Monday, Kevin dressed down in a pair of his favorite jeans and an old, olive green polo shirt. Today, he was acting as tour guide for Mr. Claymont's twin nieces. At first, he looked at the job as a chore, but the more he thought about it, the more he looked forward to it. Not only was he scoring points with the president of the company, but it gave him the opportunity to get out of the office and, more importantly, away from Adrianna. Besides, it felt good going into the office dressed down when everyone else was wearing a tie.
He stopped by Adrianna's office, a strange part of him a little giddy from having an excuse to get away from her. She wasn't there, but Leah walked in as he rooted around for a pencil to write a note. “She's in Florida. Business. Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Carter?”
The short blonde was all business and wouldn't meet his eyes. She kept fidgeting with her dark-rimmed glasses, nervously putting her bag to the side of her desk and shuffling the papers uselessly. Kevin admired her briefly, laughing inwardly. Leah was a really pretty young woman. Definitely more on the petite side than either Adrianna or Karen, she had a cute body and a kind and innocent face.
“Since when have you called me ‘Mr. Carter’?”
She sighed, finally staring up at him with those warm, hazel eyes. “God, I'm sorry, Kevin. I acted so inappropriately at the party. I shouldn't have been drinking so much—”
“Shh…” Kevin said, stepping up to her and giving her a hug. Her warm body felt good snuggled in his arms. “Listen, don’t worry about it. Really. Things are already hazy from that night. I hardly remember what you said,” he lied.
She stepped back and gave him a studied look, easily reading through his lie. She smiled for his effort and nodded. “Thank you,” she said and went back to her desk.
“Do you know when Adrianna is scheduled to return?”
“Um, I think her plane sets down Friday, but she said something about not coming in until next Monday.”
Next Monday... Kevin’s mind reeled. An entire week free from this oppressive affair. An entire week to mend old wounds. An entire week to steel himself against Adrianna’s advances. Yet, a large part of him grew sad at the absence of his lover.
“Thanks, Leah. We should have lunch some time this week.”
"I'd like that," she said, and at last, her cute, dimpled smile returned.
Kevin stood outside the office building, cursing the DC summer heat and waiting for the twins to show up. They were about fifteen minutes late, jumping out of a cab and laughing off their tardiness with youthful naïveté.
As he watched them approach, waving in their direction, he thought of yet another reason why today would be fun: he got to spend it with two alluring young ladies. Their little outfits, sexy in that trendy sort of way, would make for nice eye candy throughout the day: Taylor in her stylish white capris and Nicole in her short, pleated tennis skirt. Nicole had her light brown hair clipped back innocently; Taylor had her highlighted hair in a sporty ponytail.
“What do you two want to go see?”
“What do you recommend?” asked Taylor, quickly picking up her role as spokeswoman.
“Well, there are a lot of places that I’d recommend, but I’ve got to know what you’re interested in. What are you interested in?” He made a point to direct this question at Nicole, the shyer of the two.
“I was actually wondering if we could see some art,” she said, quietly yet still confidently. She looked at him with those feline eyes and Kevin was forced to re-evaluate his first impression of the girl. “I was hoping we could check out the Freer and Sakler museums.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Oh, that like sounds like fun!” she said, her sarcasm thick.
Nicole glared back at her sister. “Well, if it was up to you, we’d be touring the inside of pubs and salons, maybe.”
“Are you like trying to say that I have no culture?” Taylor argued back. “I’ll let you know, sister, that I was about to like suggest some of the other Smithsonian museums. It just so happens that I would like to go to the Natural History Museum. I just didn't want to spend my days looking at scrolls painted by dead Asians.”
Kevin was surprised that Taylor even recognized the museums, known for the Asian art collections.
"I'm studying art history, with a concentration in the Pacific rim," Nicole explained, ignoring her glaring sister. "But the Museum of Natural History sounds fun, as well," she conceded to her sister.
"A compromise then," Kevin said, jumping in before the two could argue any more. "We'll hang around the Mall area and visit the museums there. Maybe we can ride up in the Washington Monument, if that interests you. It's a nice enough day."
He wasn't sure how the day was going to proceed, what with such a rather ominous beginning, but by four o'clock, he had to admit he had had a lot of fun. He felt very comfortable with the fun-loving sisters. They were friendly, spirited, and best of all, attractive. Even though he was only 28, he felt like a dirty old man as he stole glimpses of Taylor’s perky young breasts in her tank top, or Nicole’s long, tanned legs in that short tennis skirt. At one point, Taylor bent over to tie her shoes and her low-riding capri’s – with cargo pockets and draw strings, of course – slipped down enough to show that her deep pink underwear was actually a thong, the color matching her visible bra strap. Kevin pulled his eyes away from the sight, only to hear Nicole laughing at his obviously male reaction.
Kevin drove them to Mr. Claymont’s large house. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon, and they were all fairly exhausted. “Hey, Kev,” Taylor said, “why don’t you come in for a drink?”
Her cat-like eyes twinkled and Kevin got the feeling that perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. Taylor had been flirting with him all through the day, going so far as smacking his ass at one point. He'd gone into this day armed with relief and a pledge to fix his marriage. Now, he could hardly remember that the ring on his finger signified him as married.
He looked at Nicole, who was fumbling with something in her satchel bag. Sensing his eyes on her, she looked up and threw in, “It’s been a long day and you’ve been great. The least we could do is offer you a coke or something.” Her identical eyes were soft, her offer genuine. Kevin figured that as long as Nicole was around, then he’d be okay.
Leah was frustrated. She really liked Kevin. No, "like" was too weak of a word. She adored him. It killed her to think that he had succumbed to Mrs. Giuliani, sure, but what made it worse was that she couldn't throw herself at the assistant director. Whether it was fear of rejection, moral integrity, or insecurity, she just couldn't do it.
She stepped into her boss’ office and shut the door behind her, hearing the satisfying click. When she first heard she was getting a female boss, she had been overjoyed. When the carpet had been torn up and the old furniture had been hauled out, she prayed for a change. What moved in with the more feminine furniture was beyond Leah's imagination.
Throwing herself in her boss's high backed executive chair, it occurred to her that her problem wasn't that she hated Adrianna, but that she admired the Italian's confidence. From her position behind the wide desk, she fantasized about what it was like to be in the dusky-hued woman's shoes. She sat back, imagining that it was the end of a hard day. In her mind, she’d click her speakerphone on and speed dial Kevin's office. "I need you at once," Leah said aloud, feeling silly but thrilled all at once.
She imagined the door opening and closing, Harry's submissive head bowed as he walked into the room. Leah propped one leg lewdly up on the edge of the desk, her high heel locking into the lip, her tight gray skirt riding up her thighs. In her mind, she told an imagined Kevin to come here, to get on his knees.
The blonde's fingers ran up the soft skin of her inner thighs. "Touch me, Kevin," she whispered aloud as her fingers found the burning juncture between her legs, covered only by a thin layer of silk. "Do you like them?" she teased in her fantasy. "Do you like the way they feel? I bought them just for you." It was true, when she bought the little white thong, it was for her fantasy lover. "Oh yesss..." she hissed as her fingers grazed the hem of her panties, pulling them aside with one hand to allow the other full access to her exposed sex.
The lips of her pussy were damp, aroused by her fantasy. Slowly, she ran her middle fingers along the wet crease, higher and higher, teasing it over her clit for just a moment. She gasped, arched her back at the touch. "There," she whined. "Touch me there..."
"You have such a beautiful pussy," she imagined Kevin telling her as his fingers played across her clit.
"You like? I keep it like this for you, lover," she said through her sighs. "Clean and smooth but for this little bit..." Her fingernails scraped through the postage stamp sized patch of hair that clung to the top of her slit, a little reminder that she was all the woman Kevin would ever need. "God, your fingers feel so good, Kev. I've wanted this for soooo long..."
She dipped two fingers into her, parting her defoliated curtains and moaning into the empty office. She pumped slowly, savoring the feeling of her slender digits and the vividness of her fantasy. Her thumb went to work on her clit, circling it, round and round as she fingered herself. Closer and closer she drove herself, all the while imagining it was Kevin's soft touch at her sex.
So immersed was she in her fantasy that she failed to hear the office door open and shut, or the lock click secure. Roberto padded quietly across the plush, periwinkle blue carpeting that his wife had installed, his eyes feasting on the gorgeous blonde behind the desk, both legs now propped up and open wide, her hands a flurry of movement between her thighs.
He recognized Leah from the party two nights before and would have gone after her like the predator that he was were it not for Kevin's lovely wife and Adrianna’s request. She was cute then, but seeing her now, her eyes closed behind those nerdy little glasses, she was irresistible. He got on his hands and knees, crawling under the desk, crawling towards the source of all her pleasure.
Leah was so close. "Give it to me, Kev! Oh, God!" She gritted her teeth. Behind her tightly shut eyelids, Kevin was there, drilling his fingers in and out of her. She wanted to feel his mouth on her. She wanted to feel a tongue lap along her moistness and a whiskered face against her thighs.
Hot breath hit her hyper-sexed clit seconds before the tongue. She screamed out loud, closing her thighs tightly together. She felt a man's head there, whiskers on her thighs and all. The fantasy was complete, she thought, her mind delirious with ecstasy. Her fingers clawed at the man's hair, pulled him down, hard against her cunt. His tongue never ceased its maddening flickering until she grew too sensitive to take it anymore. "Ah! Kevin," she groaned, her head jamming against the back of the chair. "No more, please! No more!"
The lips disappeared, her fantasy ended with her orgasm, and suddenly, she realized there really was a man crouched between her legs.
"AH!" she gasped, propelling the wheeled chair back with her legs. "WHO ARE YOU?!?" she cried, her nerves burning with fear and embarrassment. She closed her legs quickly, covered herself, eyes rolling wildly to the closed door on the other side of the room, then back to the man, still on his knees, under the desk.
"Mr. Giuliani?" she asked at last, squinting at the man. She vaguely recognized the man from the party the night before. But then again, she had been drunk, her thoughts—as usual—on Kevin.
The cocky Italian grinned up at her, moving to stand and saying, "Ci, bella. I hope I did not frighten you, but I just could not help it." The suave rise-and-fall of his Italian accent seemed just a little out of place as he rose, his lips coated in her aromatic essence.
"Wait," she said with more confidence than she felt. She was astounded to see him stop, awkwardly kneeling a few feet away. "You mean to tell me that you walked in here, expecting to find your wife, find me instead, and think that it is okay to do what you did?" She was falling back into her role, that of the powerful executive. She placed her hands on the arm rests of the chair, crossing her shapely legs before her and smoothing her skirt back into something halfway modest. "Answer me."
Roberto smiled anxiously, feeling the tables turn on him. This little blonde was playing with him. She had enjoyed it. He had evidence of that on his lips. He began to stand again, not used to getting this kind of attitude from anyone but his wife. “I think we both know the answer to that question—“
“Did I say it was okay to stand?” she asked sternly. Despite himself, Roberto shook his head. “Good. Now, I want you to take off your clothes.” Leah hoped the older man didn’t see her hands shaking on the arm rests, or see the flush that spread through her body. She couldn’t believe she had said what she just did, but as the darkly handsome man began to follow her instructions, she didn’t regret it, either.
He unbuttoned his pressed white shirt, revealing a thin layer of dark curls across a well-defined chest. His nipples were dark and hard and Leah found herself biting her lip and squirming with anticipation in her seat. It really had been a long time since she’d been with another man.
When he unbuckled his belt, he looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes. "I'll need to stand to take off my pants," he stated, waiting for her acquiescence. She shivered at the thrill of power and nodded for him to continue, then shivered again as he drew his trousers down his legs. The beautiful man before him wore tight black boxer briefs and nothing else, a thick bulge pressing obscenely against those tight drawers.
"The underwear, too," she whispered, her voice shaking with excitement.
"As my lady wishes," he said, winking. He hooked his thumbs under the elastic band, pulling downwards slowly. The black cotton caught on her erection and Leah gasped. She felt her mouth water; she felt her palms grow sweaty on the arms rests. His cock popped free, waving hard and dark before him as he kicked the tight underwear towards her. She reached out, caught it instinctively, and felt her face burn. It was warm in her hands.
He put his hands on his hips, posing like the beautiful sculpture of David, only erect and real.
"Your turn," he said, his accented voice deep and commanding. "Strip for me, bella."
So quickly the tables turned, but Leah didn't care. She gave him the most wicked smile she could muster and prayed he didn't notice how her fingers shivered at each button of her blouse. Her breasts were nothing compared to the ripeness of this man's wife, but the way he drank them in was enough for Leah. Once free of her silky bra, she found herself cupping them, passing her fingers over the pink nipples, and saying, "You like what you see?" It was like another woman speaking, a woman who should have had a low and husky voice, a deep tan, and an impossibly hourglass body. Not cute little Leah. Not this dimple-cheeked blonde.