Amber cried out and almost came when he put his mouth on her womanhood. She was tense, part of her wanted him to get the hell away from her because she hated the thought he might not like the scent of her, but another part of her wanted him to ravage her and make her come.
When she realized he plainly did enjoy what he found between her legs, she relaxed and let him pleasure her. Her legs fell wide open, and her hands played in his hair. He lapped at her, his tongue flicking over her clitoris, making her gasp each time.
Come for me Amber, he said. Relax and let it go.
She took a deep breath and let all the tension out of her body. Seconds later she came. A deep, shivering orgasm that made her eyes roll.
'Wow, that was great, he said enthusiastically. He came up the bed and kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips and didn't' know whether she liked it or not. Condom, he mumbled. He got up and walked to his dinner jacket. She watched as he took out the sachet, tore the top off with his teeth and pulled out the rubber. As he walked back to her, he expertly rolled it over his shaft. The skill with which he did so made Amber suspect he'd been doing it for many years, despite his young age.
When he entered her, she pushed her head back onto the pillow and wrapped her legs around his back.
That's it, babe, he said. Now I'm gonna make you come some more. And he did. His thrusts were so hard; she came twice in quick succession. Each time he was fascinated by her facial expressions.
He kissed her mouth, her nose, and her forehead as he continued to thrust. He was young and super fit, his body was lean and lithe, and she stood no chance. She came again and again until she was exhausted, unable to bear another orgasm.
Come now, come in my pussy, she pleaded as the next wave threatened to hit her.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on her. Not her just her body, but Amber the person. The effect she'd had on him had been overpowering. As soon as he had her whole being in his imagination, he grunted, said her name, and buried himself deep into her until there was no more to give.
Sorry Danny, I don't want to see you anymore. I'm really sorry. I know we had a great time the other evening, but I just want to leave it there, Amber said into the cell phone Josephine had given her.
You're joking right?
No sorry, I'm not.
What the hell happened? I don't understand.
There's nothing to understand. We had a great time. Let's leave it that.
Danny looked at his colleagues who were still on the training field. But I like you, more than anybody I have ever met.
Sorry Danny. Goodbye.
Danny threw the phone across the car park and kicked out at the wire mesh fence that surrounded the training ground. A photographer caught it on camera. The same photographer followed Danny all afternoon and evening as he got drunker and drunker, and surrounded himself with more and more women.
Josephine looked at Amber as she put the cell phone back on her desk.
It would have been no good Amber. He's got a court case pending, and he's a loose canon. You would have been dragged into it; your reputation would have suffered.
Amber wiped away a tear. I suppose so, but I really thought I had something with him. He's different.
He's just a footballer. Do you want your life all over the papers, and the life of your parents?
No. But you screwed Rod, so what makes you so high and mighty?
I didn't do anything of the kind. I fancy him, and he wanted to, but I went home. My job is worth too much. I can't go around screwing clients and neither can you.
Sorry. I didn't mean.....
It's okay, Josephine said. Come on let's go and get a latte.
The following morning Danny was too hung over to turn up to training. He pushed the girls in his bed to one side and went to throw up in the bathroom. His phone rang, it was Miguel.
Sorry boss, I'm ill. A touch of flu.
Not according to the Daily Star. You and a group of tramps are all over the back page.
Okay, I got pissed. Really pissed. Sorry.
Ten thousand fine, and get your ass here this afternoon or you're off to Spain to play football, do you understand?
Yes boss.
Danny sat at the kitchen table in his three million pound London apartment and looked down the River Thames. It was raining and the clouds only just cleared Tower Bridge. The weather matched his mood. He was ashamed of his drunkenness and his womanizing, but he only had one overriding thought. He wanted her back, and he wanted her back now.
He called her, but she didn't answer. He called again just before his dressing down by Miguel, not reply. He called her afterward, no reply.
On the way home, he summoned all the self-discipline he had and drove straight past the pub.
Maybe if he explained his secret, she would understand him better. It would explain his behavior, the late night drinking, the nightclubs, the women. But could he trust her not to tell anyone? He'd lived with it for too long; it had eaten away at him for years. He felt inadequate and frightened that one day he would be the laughing stock of the country if it got out. But Amber would understand and help him; he was sure.