Nights With Him(45)
God, I love it when you say dirty things. Do dirty things. Spread your legs for me right now, and tell me what you’d say to me if I had walked into your office.
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 19, 12:16 PM
subject: This.
Fuck me with your tongue.
from: justjack@gmail.com
to: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
date: Sept 19, 12:18 PM
subject: I want that.
I need to be drenched in your pussy tonight. I need to eat you and fuck you and lick you all over. I need to have my fingers in you.
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 19, 12:19 PM
subject: All of that and more
You should test some of your new toys on me. I’m very willing to be your research project.
from: justjack@gmail.com
to: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
date: Sept 19, 12:21 PM
subject: I am a very thorough researcher
I am going to research the fuck out of your beautiful body. Prepare to be ravaged tonight. That is a promise. I have to go into a meeting. This is going to be the most painful meeting of my life. Where can I meet you when it’s over? I need to see you.
Tugging at his white button-down shirt, as if that would sap the heat from his body, Jack powered down his phone a few blocks from his destination. Michelle was still on his mind, and the effect of even that one email exchange was abundantly evident in his body right now. He didn’t need an erection this demanding knocking on his fly at a lunch meeting, so he tried to force his brain to let go of the images tearing through his skull. Potent pictures of all that had transpired over the last two weeks wouldn’t leave his head; the time on his couch; the time in his shower; the time in the hallway; the time in front of the window. Each time was better than the last.
And then there were the images of all the times he intended to have with her. The things he wanted to do to her. The adventures he wanted to have with her willing mind and body. She was such a passionate lover, such a sensual woman, whose body responded to his every touch. She gave herself freely; he could only imagine the paths they could continue to explore.
He stopped at the red light on the corner of Fifth Avenue. A mannequin in the window of a lingerie shop down the street beckoned to him, her barely-there lacy pink bra and panties like a goddamn magnetic force calling out to him.
“Fuck,” he seethed as the September sun beat down. These images were not helping the case one bit, nor was that strategically placed shop. As if it were there to tempt him. Taunt him. He needed to think of baseball players or bunnies, not of how enticing Michelle would look in that bra and panty set. Because of course she would. That was a given.
Focus, Jack. Get your mind out of the gutter.
He grappled at topics that were boner killers.
The Yankees were playing tonight. They were down by a game and a half, which meant they’d need to win tonight and then again tomorrow. Jack computed batting averages and RBIs and statistical likelihoods of no-hitters, given that there had already been two so far this season. By the time he reached the next block, weaving around a bicycle deliveryman riding on the sidewalk, Jack was a man on a mission.
Today’s mission? Politics. Henry had called this meeting with his brother-in-law, the city council candidate they were throwing gobs of support behind. Jack hated politics and was still outraged that Henry's brother-in-law was being attacked because Henry and Marquita owned BDSM clubs. Jack would be surprised if Paul Denkler had ever been to a BDSM club. He seemed to be straight-laced, and trying to do some good things for the city.
He reached McCoy’s in mid-town, a favorite spot for late afternoon power lunches. A shot of air-conditioning blasted him as he opened the door. The cooler inside air was a relief. He joined Henry, Marquita, Paul Denkler and Casey at a plush red booth in the back, cloth linen napkins spread across laps, silver utensils gleaming.
After orders were placed, Henry clasped his hands together. “We have a problem.”
Jack nodded. “I figured as much. Unplanned lunch meetings usually stem from problems.”
Paul cleared his throat and opened his tablet, clicking open a news article from a prominent NY blog site. Conroy Blasts Denkler for East Side Fire.
Casey’s jaw twitched and her eyes burned. “Now you’re responsible for a fire?” she said, narrowing her eyes as she bent closer to Denkler to read the post.
After a fire broke out last night on 88th and Madison in the basement of an apartment building that had been hosting a sex-themed bondage party, former litigator and city councilman candidate Jared Conroy called anew for closures of all the BDSM private clubs that have sprung up on the Upper East Side.
While the small blaze was quickly snuffed by the local fire department, a few attendees suffered smoke inhalation. “This is a classic example of why we need to shut down these establishments. Not only do they bring an untoward element to our neighborhoods, they are clearly dangerous. I shudder at the thought of the type of damage the fire could have wrought had the fire department not been nearby,” Casey said, reading on, the frustration deep in her voice.