Authors: Velvet
Tyler couldn’t believe Naomi was standing there lying. Suddenly she began having second thoughts about joining their
book club and was on the verge of rescinding her offer. But that was just what Naomi wanted. Well, she wasn’t about to give Naomi the satisfaction of watching her back down. Besides, Tyler was determined to completely thaw Naomi’s icy exterior, and what better way than to sit in on her meeting. She hoped that once Naomi got to know her better, then she would let go of her prejudice and they could become friends. She knew it was a long shot, but miracles did happen. “Great! Let me know when and where and I’ll be there.” Tyler took her jacket from the back of the chair. “See you later. I’ve got some work to do,” she said, and headed upstairs.
Once she was gone, Naomi went to the cabinet and took out a bag of cookies for Noah’s snack. As she was walking back to the table, she noticed there was a shiny black card on the floor. She bent down and picked it up. The front was a picture of a door, and the back read “The Black Door.” There was no address, just a name and phone number.
Where the hell did this come from?
Remembering that Tyler had just taken her jacket off the back of the chair, Naomi thought that it must have fallen out of her pocket.
What is Tyler doing with a card from the Black Door?
Naomi was flabbergasted. She had been trying to find information on the club, and now out of the blue, it had fallen into her hands. She started to go directly upstairs and ask Tyler why she had the card, but decided not to. She had to tread lightly. If she started questioning Tyler about the club, Tyler would probably get suspicious and wonder why Naomi was so interested. After all, what housewife was supposed to know about an erotica club? She folded the card and tucked it in her jeans pocket.
I’ll casually bring it up at the book club meeting
. Though Naomi was interested in becoming a member, she began to have second thoughts. Her and Jacob’s sex life seemed to be back on track, so maybe she didn’t need the services of the club. In any event, she definitely couldn’t make a move until she knew whether or not Tyler was a member.
PELTING HAIL
assaulted the plane with such unrelenting force that it felt as if the aircraft were under enemy attack. The sound of hail hitting the metal exterior was loud and piercing, like a round of ammunition being fired from a MAC-10. Glancing out of the porthole at the long stretch of asphalt that seemed to go on for miles, Jacob counted at least ten aircraft lined up nose to tail on the tarmac waiting for the hailstorm to subside. Golf ball–sized pellets were wreaking havoc on the departure schedule. With this delay, they would land at Heathrow forty minutes to an hour behind schedule.
Then, as quickly as the downpour began, it suddenly stopped. “Good,” Jacob whispered, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Now that Mother Nature has ceased fire”—it was the captain making a lame attempt at humor—“we can continue taxiing. It looks like we’re number eight in line for takeoff.”
I should’ve left yesterday with Mira
. She had taken the company’s private plane, and invited Jacob to join her. Reluctantly, he had to decline. He wanted nothing more than to join the
mile-high club with Mira, but Naomi was in another one of her paranoid moods, accusing him of abandonment, insisting that he preferred work to her. Ever since their night of passion at the Sofitel, Naomi had been extremely clingy and wanted him to make love to her every evening. To quell her ensuing tirade, he shortened the trip a day. Hindsight was indeed twenty-twenty. Had he known that the heavens would open up and disrupt the departure schedule, he would’ve accepted Mira’s offer.
Right now, I could be sharing an after-dinner port with Ms. Rhone, or better yet sharing her bed,
he thought.
Twenty minutes later, they were airborne, soaring above the clouds where the sun was brightly shining. Looking out of the window at the blinding golden orb, he marveled,
Whoever said, “The sun is always shining somewhere,” was right.
Mother Nature was amazing. Less than an hour ago, she was unleashing her fury with a fistful of mini-snowballs; now she was smiling a warm dazzling smile, lighting up the horizon.
The flight was seven hours long, and by the time they arrived at the gate, Jacob was sleepy and hungry. The customs agent was taking his sweet time checking passports. Jacob anxiously tapped his foot as he waited impatiently for the clerk to process him. Once he was cleared by the agent, Jacob made a beeline to the taxi stand so that he could go to the hotel and get a few hours of shut-eye before meeting with Mira.
The weather in New York must have been a prelude to the elements in London. As usual, the skies were overcast and cloudy, with light drizzle creating a gentle mist across the ancient city. It wasn’t raining hard enough for an umbrella, so he flipped up the collar on his trench coat and ducked inside a waiting taxi outside of the airport. They were staying at the legendary Ritz, located in the heart of London near historic Piccadilly Circus and within walking distance of the fashionable boutiques along Bond Street. The world-renowned auction houses, Christie’s and Sotheby’s, were also a stone’s throw away.
Once he arrived at the hotel, Jacob walked through the ornate lobby and checked in with the registration clerk. With only a garment bag, he didn’t need to enlist the help of a bellhop, so he proceeded to his room without assistance.
Walking through the corridor, he was reminded of the time when he and Naomi were dating, and he couldn’t wait to get her inside a hotel room and rip off her clothes. They would spend the entire weekend making love and ordering room service. His appetite for her was insatiable. But those days were long over. Throughout the years, he made several, most of them halfhearted, attempts at resurrecting their sex life, but like a loop of a bad B-movie playing over and over, he just couldn’t get the visual of her giving birth out of his mind. Even that night at the Sofitel, he had to think about Mira just to get a woody. His insatiable desire for his wife had been permanently quenched, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Jacob dipped the plastic key card into the lock and opened the door. The Junior Suite was exquisitely furnished with the signature colors of the hotel: blue, peach, yellow, and pink. The color combination would have come off as extremely feminine, if it weren’t for the handsome Louis XVI chairs that dominated the living area. A welcome basket of fresh fruit sat wrapped in iridescent cellophane on the antique cocktail table. He untied the cord and reached for an apple. Just as he was ready to take a bite out of the forbidden fruit, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey there, Jacob.”
“Mira?”
“Yeah, it’s me. When did you get in?”
He was flabbergasted. Mira’s tone was casual and light-hearted, which was in stark contrast to her usual stern business demeanor. “My flight was delayed. I just arrived a few minutes ago.”
“No problem,” she said casually.
No problem?
Unforeseen delays were always a problem with Mira. He shook his head at her attitude adjustment, trying to figure out what had brought about this abrupt change in her personality. Maybe it was being in another country, far away from the hectic pressures of work. Well, whatever the nature of her transformation, he wasn’t complaining. “What room are you in? I’ll come over so we can review the agenda for tomorrow’s meeting,” he suggested.
“I’m in room four-ten, but there’s no rush. I’m sure you’re jet-lagged. Why don’t you take a nap and we’ll meet for dinner, say seven-thirty, downstairs in the restaurant.”
She was being so agreeable. He couldn’t believe Mira was actually displaying a human trait. A few cocktails before dinner, a bottle of wine with their meal, and she might really loosen up. Loose enough for him to seduce her. “Seven-thirty sounds good. See you then,” he said, and hung up.
Jacob called the concierge and requested a wake-up call for six-thirty so that he wouldn’t oversleep. He was looking forward to their dinner meeting—in more ways than one—and didn’t want to be late.
It seemed as if the minute he laid his head on the down-filled pillow, the phone rang. Through his sleepy haze he reached for the receiver.
“Good evening, Mr. Reed, this is your six-thirty wake-up call.”
“Thank you,” he mumbled and put the receiver back on the cradle.
Clad only in boxer shorts, he could feel a stiffy poking against the thin cotton fabric of his underwear. Reaching down, he closed his eyes and began massaging his swollen sex. “Mira, tonight all this belongs to you,” he said, pulling the shaft of his hefty package. Jacob sat on the side of the bed and jerked off. He pictured Mira kneeling on her knees in between his legs, sucking his cock. At the thought of her, he yanked his dick harder
and harder until cum came oozing out of his tiny hole.
I’m going to fuck you so good you’re going to be begging me for more.
Masturbating only made Jacob hornier, and he couldn’t wait to tap Mira’s fine ass. He got up and went into the bathroom to wash the gooey cum off of his body.
After showering, Jacob decided to ditch his suit and tie, in lieu of a more casual outfit, since it was after hours. He dressed in a pair of black gabardine slacks and a tan, silken-wool pullover; he checked his reflection in the mirror. Without sounding vain, he had to admit that for a man of forty-something, he was well preserved, thanks to a regular workout routine and a healthy diet. The sweater hugged his pectorals and biceps just enough to emphasize his toned upper body. Jacob splashed his palms with Dun-hill’s signature cologne and transferred the scent from his hands to his smooth-shaven face. He felt like a teenager getting ready for the prom. More precisely, he felt like a horny teen getting ready to score after the prom. “Go get ’em, Tiger,” he mouthed in the mirror, and headed downstairs to slay his prey.
The hotel restaurant was classy without being overstated. Scanning the room for Mira while he waited for the maître d’, Jacob started fidgeting as he began to second-guess his decision.
Maybe I should just forget about these grandiose plans at seduction, concentrate on keeping my dick in my pants, and try to regain the desire for my wife
. But no sooner had the words drifted from his mind than his jimmy twitched, as if to say “Forgitaboutit.”
“Looking for me?”
Jacob turned around and nearly passed out from the sheer shock of what stood before him. There in the flesh was Mira, sans the bun and tailored business suit. Her long, wavy hair swung loose, cascading beyond her shoulders and midway down her back. She wore a pair of low-rider jeans that hugged her narrow hips, and a see-through cotton gauze blouse with a plunging neckline. He could see the dark circular areolas that surrounded her perky nipples through the thin tissue-paper fabric
of her blouse. To his delight, she was braless and brazen. Nothing turned him on more than an uninhibited woman. And the way Mira was displaying her enticing goods, she was without a doubt a woman who wasn’t embarrassed by her sexuality. “Mira Rhone,” he said, giving her the obligatory up and down.
“How are you? Were you able to get a nap?”
He smiled slightly, thinking about his naughty after-nap activity. “Yes, I did manage to get in a few winks.”
“Well, you sure look rested.” She gave him an appraising look of her own. “Jacob, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a tie.”
Don’t worry. Pretty soon, you’re going to see me with little or nothing on!
“I thought I’d give the noose the night off.” He chuckled.
She laughed lightly. “Our table should be ready,” she said, looking around the restaurant for the hostess.
While Mira had her back to him, Jacob took a half step back, appreciating the view before him, and said, “I don’t mind waiting.” Then, out of the corner of his eye, he could see someone approaching the podium.
“How many?” It was the hostess.
Before he could open his mouth, Mira said, “Two. The name is Rhone. Mira Rhone.”
The fragile-featured hostess perused her wait list, then said, “Right this way,” leading them to a table near the back of the restaurant.
Once seated, Mira took charge, suggesting entrees and ordering appetizers, as well as cocktails. It was obvious that she was more than familiar with the restaurant. “The veal is so succulent that it practically melts in your mouth. And the sea scallops are to die for.” She looked up from the menu. “What do you have a taste for, meat or fish?”
Jacob didn’t have much of an appetite. Besides, what he craved wasn’t on the menu. “Fish will suit me just fine,” he answered, the double entendre going right over her pretty head.
“Well, in that case, you have to order the seared tuna. It’s served practically rare, but it’s extremely flavorful.”
Just like your pussy, I bet.
“Sounds irresistible.” Jacob looked around the restaurant for the waitress. He wanted to hurry up and eat, then go upstairs for “dessert.” “Where’s our waitress? I’m ready to order.”
Mira swung her hair to one side. “Me too.”
When the waitress finally arrived, Jacob ordered a round of predinner cocktails and a bottle of vintage wine to drink with their meal. Over dinner, he and Mira chatted effortlessly about topics ranging from politics to religion and everything in between—everything but his schoolboy crush. To his delight, she seemed to become more relaxed with each glass of vino, and he kept pouring, making sure her glass remained full.
“My mother had no interest in running the company. She was more interested in running her social calendar. She’s on husband number five now, and he only married her for the money. Her monthly allowance rivals my paycheck.” She looked away for a moment. “And I work hard every day. I guess GG knew early on that Mother would be a liability instead of an asset. That’s why she left me her legacy to continue.”
“And you’re doing a stellar job,” he complimented her. “Your idea to expand into the children’s market is brilliant!” Jacob smiled.
She glanced down into her lap, seemingly embarrassed by the accolades. “Thank you, Jacob.” She raised her head. “That means a lot coming from you.”