The Pleasure Zone(16)

Designer bag dangling in the crook of her arm, Nairobia sauntered off, while Ethan struggled to keep his eyes off her as he always did. Yes. It was no secret. He had a burning crush on her. And he kept a hard-on in his pants for her. All the time.

Shit. She was Nairobia Jansen after all.

He’d been working part-time at the luxury high-rise building for close to three years, but the minute he’d found out who she was, he’d gone and ordered every porn movie she’d ever starred in. He even had clips of her on his smartphone for those midday moments when he wanted, needed, release.

As if she could feel his eyes on her, Nairobia glanced over her shoulder and caught him staring at her ass.

Busted.

She winked at him, then sassily strutted toward the elevator, leaving behind the faint trace of her floral perfume. She smiled, and swung her hips to give him a little show. He was so aroused, his balls heavy, his cock aching. Every time he saw her, she made his body hot and sizzling.

He inhaled. Suddenly he could smell her. Just her. Among the exhaust fumes and rubber, somehow Nairobia was the only thing he breathed in.

God, what a horn dog he was. He couldn’t help himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Couldn’t stop lusting her. Couldn’t stop imagining the feel of his hands caressing her body.

A sly smile slid over her lips as she envisioned Ethan in back of her, still staring at her ass. One time she’d caught his gaze locked on her protruding nipples, and she’d asked him flat-out if he wanted to lick them, suckle them in his mouth, if he wanted to tease them with his fingertips.

Oh, and there was the time she’d brazenly asked, whispering the question low enough for only him to hear, how big his cock was, causing the twenty-one-year-old NYU student’s cheeks to flush.

Another time, she slipped out of a pair of lacy thongs—on one of those rare occasions when she wore underwear—right in front of him and slipped them inside his pocket. “Take me to bed with you tonight, my love,” she’d said, low and sultry.

He’d almost come on himself on the spot.

But those sweet panties were in his hands and up to his nose way before he’d ever made it home. He spent his whole hour lunch break sniffing her, licking the inside of her crotch wildly as he watched his favorite porn movie of her, Cum Snatcher.

And there had been a few other awkwardly enticing moments…

Nairobia’s gaze lingered on the young valet’s face, and he blushed, not sure if he should turn his own gaze away or run over and press her up against the elevator door and fuck her.

He had nice-sized balls, but God, he wished he had bigger ones to do it. He’d fuck her good, too. Or at least try.

Nairobia placed the palm of her hand up against the security panel, and the elevator leading to the top floor slid open.

She blew him a kiss, and Ethan swallowed as the elevator closed behind her. He stood a moment longer, then, before he slid behind Nairobia’s car’s wheel and drove off to park it in its designated spot, he looked around the parking garage, then slyly leaned in and sniffed her seat. He licked over the leather where he believed her pussy and ass had been. He imagined she tasted like honey and felt incredible. Fuck, yeah, baby. He fantasized about having his long cock in her. She was nothing like the campus sluts he rammed. Nairobia was a grown woman. Experienced in the art of fucking. And he wanted to be covered in her heat. Painted by her warm juices.

She was his ultimate fantasy.

One day he’d drum up the courage to make it a reality. He knew he’d probably bust fast. Of course he would. In most of her five-minute movie clips, she’d been able to make the male actors in them come quick. And they were pros for Christ’s sake!

Ethan groaned inwardly. He’d never last with her.

He’d have to take two Viagra pills and a Red Bull.

And invest in a cock ring to keep up with the infamous Pleasure.





SEVEN


She leaned back against the brass handrail, and glanced up at the surveillance camera mounted in the corner and mouthed, “Lick my kut.” She enunciated the words as if she were speaking them directly to someone. She felt like being naughty. Felt like giving whatever horny soul was on duty today a peep show. But she licked her lips instead, and pulled out her ringing smartphone. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway.

“Ja?”

“Bonjour belle.” Hello, beautiful.

Nairobia caught a glimpse of herself in the elevator’s mirrored walls, and smoothed her hair over her shoulder. She had to admit, she looked remarkably stunning for a woman who’d only had three hours of sleep. Beauty was only skin deep. Nairobia knew that. And she knew once the physical beauty faded, if you didn’t have good character, if you didn’t have a good heart, then you had nothing. She’d known over the years beautiful people who were downright ugly on the inside.