Callie stood on the sidewalk staring up at the mile-high glass office building, trying to swallow the pounding of her heart in her throat. People weaved around and jostled her small form, a few of them swearing, most of them just giving her a quick, annoyed glance before hurrying on. So this is New York, and I'm officially insane.
The verdict was in—might as well carry on with the sentence. She clutched a red folder to her chest as she followed a woman in a gray pinstriped suit through the revolving glass door. Her fingers were stained pink from biting her nails and folding the edge of the folder back and forth, over and over, on the subway. She had missed her stop—twice—and was already forty-five minutes late for this appointment.
She felt extremely underdressed, even in her plain black skirt and white blouse, as she stood in the lobby and dug out the business card tucked into the front pocket of the red folder:
1006 Ninth Avenue,
New York, NY
Twenty-fifth floor. She slipped between bodies onto the elevator, pressed further and further toward the back as more people piled on. She tried to see around the shoulder of a navy blue suit, straining to see if the number 25 was lit up. She felt too timid to open her mouth and ask—but surely someone in this crowd had to get off on the twenty-fifth floor?
But when the doors finally opened at floor twenty-five, she found herself stuck, rooted to the floor. She rode the elevator up, hugging her folder and chewing on a cuticle, until it started back down again, stopping once more at twenty-five. This time she managed to get off, excusing herself through bodies until she was standing in front of a receptionist's desk, breathing in the unfamiliar but unmistakable smell of the New York office, like clean reams of paper or new carpet.
"Hi, there." The blonde behind the counter was beautiful, her eyes smiling at Callie. "How can I help you?"
"Jason Adams." Callie cleared her throat, taking a step toward the desk. "I had an appointment at nine, but..."
"He's waiting for you." The blonde picked up the phone, still smiling, and dialed. "Jason? Your nine o'clock is here. Do you want—?" She paused, listening. "Okay." Putting the phone back in the cradle, she stood, smoothing the lines of her skirt. "He's in the middle of taking some specs, but he says he'll be out in five. Do you want some coffee while you wait?"
Callie shook her head, spotting chairs over against the wall. "I'll just..." She edged her way over and tried to make herself as small as possible in the chair, trying hard not to fidget as she watched the office activity. She thought about asking for a bathroom to check her appearance in a mirror, but instead just smoothed her long, red hair with her fingers, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the glass next to an office door. She adjusted the straps on her black heels and crossed one knee over the other, pressing the curling edge of the folder flat with her fingers, trying to smooth that, too.
"Callie?" His voice was golden, like liquid fire, the kind of voice that could talk a woman into anything. She recognized it immediately from their phone conversations.
"Jason?" She stood, taking his extended hand, blinking at his grip, warm and firm, his hand swallowing hers. This was a man used to shaking hands. She noticed the gray-green of his eyes and the way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled at her.
"That's me," he confirmed with a wink, rubbing the reddish goatee on his chin. "Running late, huh?"
"I got lost." She shrugged sheepishly. "But still, you'd think I could find a building this big! Especially being right across from the Empire State Building..."
"Right?" He chuckled. "Are you ready to give it a go?"
She glanced up at him—way up, he was quite tall and lean—blinking fast. "I guess so."
"Come on, then."
She followed him down a long hallway and into a small booth. He shut the door behind them and nodded toward the chairs. She sat in one, watching him as he set up a microphone in front of her. Just the sight of it made her feel dizzy.
"You nervous?" He smiled, sitting beside her.
She nodded. "Is it that obvious?"
"I'd tell you to just picture me naked, but considering what you're here to record..."
Callie laughed, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. "What if I already am?"
He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. "I wouldn't object."
"You're so bad." She picked up her red folder, opening it, amazed at how easily it had resumed, their phone conversations turned into face-to-face contact without hardly missing a beat. "I brought two... which one do you think I should try?"
He took two short stories from her, separated by a staple, glancing at the titles on the covers and flipping through them thoughtfully. She knew he had read them both—he'd read all of her writing—but he was in business mode now, considering the options.
"This one." He put Folsom Prison Blues down in front of her. It was a short piece, written as a letter, first person—a woman writing to her lover in prison. It was definitely the more graphic of the two. Callie glanced at it, flushing when she remembered how many times she'd used the word "cunt" in it.
"You're really sweet to offer to do this, Jason." She picked up the story, flipping past the title page. "In a million years, I never thought I'd be sitting in an agent's office in New York about to record one of my own erotic stories..."
"Honestly, it's my pleasure." His smile lightened his whole face. "You're an amazing writer, and bringing your work to audio only enhances it."
"You really are a sweet talker, aren't you?" She smirked, shaking her head. "No wonder you're an agent."
"That's my job." He grinned. Then he leaned over and touched her knee. It was a brief thing, almost casual—except that it wasn't, and they both knew it. Her breath caught as she met his eyes. "But with you, I really mean it."
She slapped the story on the table. "Okay, let's do this thing, before I lose my nerve."
"Ready?" He flipped a switch, putting the microphone in front of her. "Just go ahead and read."
She cleared her throat, letting the swimming words on the paper come into focus. It was hard to do with him watching her. "Every morning I check the calendar. Twenty-seven days, baby. I'm marking it with big red X's, one day at a time..." Jason leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was thoughtful, discerning. She could read the criticism in his eyes, could almost see his thoughts.
"What?" She stopped, frowning.
"You're really nervous." He leaned over and turned off the mic.
She sighed, looking down at the curled edge of the red folder, her still-dyed-pink fingers. "I know."
He leaned forward in his chair, tenting his fingers under his chin. "Close your eyes." She blinked at him, swallowing hard. "Go on, do it." She hesitated, but did as he asked, almost immediately feeling a relief when she couldn't see him looking at her. "Now... imagine you're Katie..."
"No 'buts,' Cal." His voice was firm, commanding. "Do it."
"The thing that's so amazing about your stories is that they come alive in the reader's imagination..." His voice felt closer and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "Now you get to really live them... let them live through you." His words moved her, in spite of herself, and she felt her body softening, relaxing into the chair. "So become Katie... let her breathe..."
He startled her, touching her belly as she leaned back in the chair. His hand was large and very warm as it pressed her navel through her blouse. "Breathe, Cal..." He rubbed, gently, making her shiver. "Breathe..." She took a deep, shaky breath. "Good... now, say something Katie would say."
Callie didn't think, she just spoke, feeling Katie's longing, her deep, tender ache. "Oh god, baby, I miss you..."
"Yes!" Jason encouraged. "More!"
"I can't..." She felt the press of Jason's hand, a reminder, and relaxed. "I can't wait to feel you inside of me..."
"Yes," he breathed, his hand moving, his fingers slipping just barely between the buttons of her blouse, touching skin.
She moaned softly, her head going back. "I want your big, hard cock in me..." His fingers slid further, the heat of them touching the softness of her belly. "Fucking me..." His hand pressed harder and she heard his sharp intake of breath. "Fucking my hot, wet, little cunt..."
"Oh god." He groaned.
"Yes?" She opened her eyes to him, seeing the hungry look on his face.
He nodded, swallowing. "Oh yes."
"I'm ready." She sat up, grabbing the paper off the table.
"Me, too." He sighed, leaning over and turning on the mic. "Go."
She started again, her voice softer, lower, filled with secret and promise, a thousand times richer and more complex than it had been when she first spoke into the microphone. He nodded his approval, leaning back in his chair, resting an ankle on the opposite knee. His eyes on her didn't make her nervous now, she noticed. In fact, the further she got into the story, the more she liked him looking at her, seeing the changing expression on his face.
"That's how you make me feel, every word, every letter. And now it's less than a month and we'll be together, face to face, touching each other, no longer just words and pictures. I can't help thinking about it, about you, what it will be like for us in those moments..."
She glanced up at him, seeing the startled look in his eyes, and her next words stumbled. "Oh, I messed that up..."
He shook his head, making a rolling motion with his hand. "Just keep going. Take it from that sentence."
She nodded, turning back to the words.
"We couldn't stop it, you know. It's like a driving force between us now, can you imagine what it will be like when we come together? Come together... yes, come and come and come... I'm wet just imagining it..."
Callie crossed and uncrossed her legs, feeling that familiar ache she always got when reading or writing erotica, but it wasn't just that. Jason's eyes were dark, hungry, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. She glanced at his hands in his lap and wondered, for a moment, if her reading was making him hard. As hard as she was wet... the thing was, she was wet, just imagining it. And she wasn't pretending to be Katie, anymore...
"I'll open the door, and there you'll be, your eyes dark with anticipation and lust, your bags in your hands. There might be a moment, a flicker of hesitation, your face a question, asking me, but you'll know, the minute I look into your eyes. How could you not? It's always been yes with you. My whole body is your 'yes...'"
"Cal..." His interruption surprised her and she looked up, seeing him swallow, as if his mouth were dry.
"Hm?" She couldn't help the yes in her eyes, and he took it for what it was, both of them carried by the story, by her voice speaking the words, by months of talking about doing this, by the possibility. His mouth caught hers, dipping down to capture it and lift her face up to meet his kiss. She followed his lead, gripping the paper in her fist as his mouth grew more insistent, his tongue slipping between her lips.
The heat in her belly spread, her whole body flushing as they came together, Jason standing and pulling her with him, kicking his chair back out of the way. He was too tall for her and she had to stretch on tiptoes to keep their mouths connected. She was afraid to break that connection, and he was desperate for it, too, his hands slipping down and cupping her behind, lifting her up to him.
Her skirt was pulled up high when he turned and set her on the table, his cock like iron between her legs. She hooked her heels around him, tugging at the place where his shirt tucked into his belt, seeking the heat of his skin and finding it under her hands. His back was lean and smooth under her fingers, and he broke their kiss, gasping into her hair, her ear.
"Oh god, Cal..."
She knew what he was going to say, could feel it in the subtle stiffening of his body, the tremor in his voice, and she shook her head, turning her eyes up to his.
"No." She didn't want to think about any reason either of them might have not to do this, and saw the same look on his face, twisted there, caught. Her one hand slipped between them to cup the heat of his erection while the other brought her forgotten story up so she could see the words. "I'm not Cal... I'm Katie..."
She tightened her grip, making him moan, as she read deliberately, throatily: "A skirt, that's what I'd wear for you. Short, yes, teacher-like, a button-down blouse so you could pop every one of them—just rip it down the front. Kick the door closed and come over here, baby, because I've got something warm and soft and wet for you to sink into. I'm so yours..."
"Oh fuck!" He groaned and kissed her again, kissed her quiet, their mouths no longer cautious or exploring, but wild with their lust. She sucked at his tongue, moaning into his mouth as his hand cupped her breast through her blouse, thumbing her hard nipple. It stood up against the material, growing harder under his attention, and she didn't know which was harder, her nipple straining against her blouse or his cock throbbing through his trousers.
She fumbled with his belt as he worked the buttons on her blouse, their tongues making soft, probing circles together. He groaned and broke their kiss when she slipped her hand into his boxers, seeking his length. She freed him quickly, and he glanced down past the half-moon globes of her breasts swelling above the top of her bra, watching her hand tugging at him. His expression was caught between wonder and denial, and she squeezed the tip between her fingers, rubbing the head with her thumb.
Leaning back a little, she spread her thighs, showing him the dark flash of her panties between the gentle swell of her thighs. She rubbed the tip of his cock there over her swollen lips, teasing the head of his cock with the silk of her panties. His eyes fell there, focused, his breath coming faster as she rubbed him up and down her slit.
She glanced over at the paper, still clutched in her hand, and read the first words her eyes found to him: "Wet and shaved smooth for you, just like you like it..."
"Ah, god!" His hands ran down her sides, her hips, pulling her forward as she slipped her panties aside to show him just how soft and smooth she really was. The instant his cock brushed through her wetness, she was lost. She knew she'd do anything to have him, now. She read with a breathy tremble, a throaty lust:
"It's so pink inside, and it's been wet for hours because you're all I can think about, your cock buried in me to the hilt. I want it, and I'll show you where with my fingers, pressing deep into my cunt. Yes, my hot, wet cunt. That's what I am for you, and it's all yours—take it, baby. Fuck me until I can't breathe."
"Oh, goddamnit, Cal..." His fingers nudged her plunging ones aside, spreading her lips and looking at the soft folds of her flesh, his cock throbbing up against her thigh.
"No." She pressed her fingers to his lips, still wet with her juices. "Katie, remember?"
He shook his head, his eyes dark as he grabbed her hips, pulling her off the table and cupping her ass. "No... you're Callie, and I'm Jason, and we're going to do this thing, baby, you and me."
She groaned as he sucked the juices off her fingers and then kissed her again, a hard, almost violent thing, before turning and bending her over the table, shoving her skirt up to her waist. He filled his hands with the soft, round curve of her ass before pulling her panties down to her knees. She glanced over her shoulder at him, trembling, feeling his fingers, rough and searching, finding the hole he wanted to fill, the one she knew he'd been dreaming about for months.
"Jason?" She whispered his name as he hesitated, his fingers moving in her wetness, teasing her hole, her clit, up and down, over and over. She didn't want him to stop—she didn't want to stop. She wanted this, wanted him, and nothing else mattered in that moment.
"Say it again." His fingers twisted and plunged into her, a prelude, and she gasped, arching her back.
"Jason!" She moaned, spreading her legs as far as the panties caught at her knees would allow.
"Yes." His wet finger slid out to rub her clit to aching and she felt his cock resting, throbbing with a gentle heat against the crack of her ass. "Tell me what you want."
"Oh... god!" His touch was firm and practiced, his fingers moving in confident circles, making her tremble. "Put it in, Jason...please! Fuck me!"
"Yes." He groaned the word, his fingers never moving from their torment as he slipped his cock down the wet crevice of her ass, seeking the soft heat of her pussy. His cock head found it all on its own, as if it already knew the way, spreading her lips, pressing into her core, seeking her deepest heat, her softest spot.
His hands moved to grip her ass, pulling her in harder, deeper, and she buried her face in her arms, biting her lip hard. The feel of him filling her to bursting made her hands curl into fists and her pussy clenched around him, gripping his length. His cock was as long and lean as he was, probing so far into her that it was almost painful and she shifted on the table, trying to accommodate him.
"You okay?" His hand pressed her lower back, her blouse pulled up out of her skirt and twisted to the side, her skin exposed to him.
She nodded, gasping, glancing back over her shoulder at him. "Never better."
He chuckled, sliding the length slowly out and pressing back in, wetly easier this time. She moaned when he sank in again and they began, his strokes long and smooth, easing her open a little at a time. Her fingers sought the prominent bud of her clit, wet already and sensitive to her touch as she started to rub it back and forth.
"Harder," she whispered, her cheek pressed against the table as they rocked. "Oh baby, please..." He obliged, grabbing her hips and giving her shorter, harder strokes, his hands squeezing her hips and pulling them in, using her body as leverage. She teased her clit faster, her breath coming harder as he fucked her. The anticipation of today, of this moment, had built to a frenzy long before she even walked through his door today and she couldn't hold onto it anymore.
"Oh Jason, make me come!" She shivered and arched against him, her whole body trembling with her orgasm, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. The rhythmic squeeze of her cunt made him slow, groaning softly as she came around his cock, her hand reaching back for something to hold onto, as if she might float away on the sensation. She grasped his wrist, pulling, twisting her body as she shuddered against him, her breath coming in fast, harsh gasps.
"Oh jeez, girl..." His hands moved in her hair, using it to pull her up to standing and kiss her, his cock sliding out of her, throbbing and slick. "You come so good."
"Your fault," she panted, licking her lips and looking back at him through dazed, half-closed eyes.
"I'll take full responsibility." His grin twisted to a grimace as she reached back and squeezed his wet cock in her hand, turning and sinking to her knees in front of him. She slid her mouth around the head, leaning a little to capture his left-leaning angle with her tongue and pull him straight down into her throat. He was too tall for her to get as much of him as she wanted and she pressed him back into a chair with eager hands. His body collapsed into it and she used her hands on his thighs to steady herself as she sucked him, her eager impatience eventually backing the rolling chair against the far wall.