Filling up the Virgin(181)
“Call me with the details of the annulment. If it all possible, you can send it to my e-mail address and we can work things out and get this done.” There was a small part of her that was happy to be married to him, but she couldn’t admit that to herself. She wanted to leave this in the past and she left there running down the hallway with some of her clothes still clutched in her hands, including her underwear. She had dropped her panties but she had no idea that they were missing or that Payton was now holding them to his face, as she disappeared from his life into the elevator.
Inhaling her scent brought back a fresh supply of memories from how they had spent those first couple of hours getting to know each other in a more Biblical way. They supplied themselves with the necessary libations, turning it into a sexual game that had them drinking from each other. He remembered feeling the champagne streaming down his cock and how her hot tongue had followed it up to capture every single drop. He recalled what it felt like to have her body surround him in warmth and comfort. It had never been that way with any other woman. Convincing himself otherwise was only fooling himself.
He called his agent with the unpleasant news and got a reminder from him that things could have gone worse. “I want you to know that she may be a one night stand, but I want to treat her with nothing, but respect. Don’t treat this, as some dirty little secret. I do want the annulment and I want her to sign on the dotted line. Make it happen, or you’ll find yourself on the unemployment line. Never mind, I’m just a little testy this morning and I hope that you don’t take anything that I said personally. You can imagine that I feel a little sideswiped by all of this.” He hung up and was still holding onto that dainty material. He carried it up to the bedroom and lay down with it hanging very noticeably on the pillow beside him.
He had no choice, but to smile. It was a daunting and very fulfilling experience that had him wanting to duplicate it with other girls. He had this feeling that nobody was going to be able to come close and the only girl that could match what they had already done had already walked out of his life. The memories of her haunted his dreams and his waking hours. He wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter and that he wanted her to stay with him. He thought that maybe a weekend would get her out of his system, or maybe even a week in some tropical getaway away from the prying eyes of the press.
Downstairs, Josie could see how the people were looking at her like she was trash on the bottom of their shoe. To them, she looked like some streetwalker that had done her duty and was now leaving with the supplied cash in her purse. She didn’t want them to think that she was a hooker, but she wasn’t about to stand around and defend herself. She had nothing to be ashamed of and she was determined to leave this in the past. She could still feel him touching her, grazing her skin and then penetrating to the deepest part.
She touched her lips and licked them, while holding her clothes and smelling his aftershave permeating into every piece. She didn’t even want to wash the clothes and to do so would eliminate any chance of recovering that memory when she was alone. She hailed a taxi and when she jumped in and it drove away, she looked back and regretted one thing and one thing only. She had turned him into a sweaty mass, but it was primarily due to the liquor. She got this feeling that maybe it would’ve been the same with any other girl, but what she didn’t realize was that she was not like any other girl.
“I hope that it was worth it. You don’t look like a prostitute that I see on this side of the city. You’re definitely one of those that are taking the walk of shame afterwards. I don’t see any reason why you should feel that way. You had your fun and I’m sure that you left you and your partner with a smile on both of your faces. Life is too short to get caught up with hang up’s. You should take what you want. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, then it shouldn’t really matter how people may perceive you.” The taxi driver was one Ramon Ramirez. He considered himself to be a Latin romantic, but there were times that you just threw caution to the wind and did whatever you wanted for the sake of pleasure.
“I suppose you may be right about that, Ramon.” She sat there in quiet solitude contemplating how she was going to handle the paperwork that was undeniably going to fall on her desk. She would see it, as a slap to the face, but it wasn’t like he had promised her the world on a silver platter. “I did have a great time. It may have not ended the way that I wanted it too, but I don’t think that I will ever think of him without fond feelings. I don’t know how he felt about it, but I would say that we fed off of each other’s lust for life.” She would love to do it again and they were of like mind in that regard.