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Authors: Antoinette

BOOK: A Taste of Pleasure
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As she walked into the house, her cell phone was buzzing frantically from inside her purse to alert her of all the voicemail messages. Once inside, she noticed the answering machine was also blinking. She ignored them as she poured herself a double of Deacon's favorite scotch and toasted the end of Deacon.
She took off her ring and put it in the ring box on the dresser. There were no words that could ever wipe away the vision that had blinded her. No words . . . nothing . . . ever. She collapsed onto the bed and gulped down her scotch, trying to drown her sorrows. She hugged her pillow and cried, “Oh, Grams, I need you so badly now.” She sobbed uncontrollably. She scanned the walls, holding on to her pillow, looking for answers. She looked at her grandmother's picture and the journal of
Life Lessons.
She got up and reached for the book, then sat down, leafing though the pages for help. On one page the words “
IF YOU'RE FEELING SAD AND BLUE FIND SOMEONE WORSE OFF THAN YOU.
” Next page, “
NOTHING STARTS WRONG AND ENDS RIGHT.

“Right,” she said, as she continued to leaf though the pages, looking for the magic cure for heartache. On page five Grams said, “
LOVE IS NOT BASED ON SEX ALONE.

Hmm
, she thought. Every relationship that she could remember was based on sex, she mused. Was that why they went bad? She fell back into the pillows, crying and holding the book close to her heart.

She tossed and turned as she crossed over into darkness, nightmares filling her with dread as she was yanked back in time to horrible experiences from her childhood.

London's mother was there, towering over her and screaming into her tiny face as she scolded her for being naughty. London trembled, holding her blanket, embarrassed and ashamed, cowering and confused. Her mother spanked her repeatedly with a wooden spoon and took away all of her stuffed animals. She warned her never to touch herself there again as she stormed out of the room. Little London cried herself to sleep, missing her fuzzy friends, who always comforted her at night.

Then she awoke, rolled over, and drifted off to another nightmare of her uncle rubbing and touching her there. London asked him why it was okay for him to touch her, when Mother would
whip her for touching herself there. He told her that her mother knew what they were doing and it was only okay when he did it. He opened her legs and moved his finger on her sex spot, whispering in her ear that it was okay, because he was her favorite uncle. . . .

London awoke and ran for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet as she vomited. She gasped for air and stood to rinse her mouth with water. The nausea lingered, so she brushed her teeth and rinsed with mouthwash. She crawled back into bed, still nauseous and feeling defeated as she recalled her fuzzy nightmare. She lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, watching moonlight and shadows dance across the room, thinking about her life and what made her who she was.

Ever since she was a little girl she had been told she was naughty. The first moment was when her mother had caught her masturbating at eight years old. London recalled how confusing it all was and it took her years before she realized that her mother didn't know anything about what her uncle had done. He had touched her from the age of four and continued up until she was too old to sit on his knee anymore. It made her ill to think of him. She curled up in a tight ball around her pillow and cried herself back to sleep.

She awoke again after a few hours of restful sleep. She felt dazed and confused, but she knew she needed to feel that sensation again. If she was going to be naughty, she might as well enjoy it. She remembered her grandmother, who told her not to give her heart away, because men would only abuse it. She was right! As she touched herself down there, she enjoyed the feeling immensely. She tried to push Deacon out of her heart and mind. She got out her pleasure toy and positioned herself for a treat.

Her mind envisioned different men, but still kept coming
back to Deacon. She brushed him out as she picked up her favorite juicy book.
Oh dear
, she thought,
what am I going to do? Not even my vibrator can turn me on. I need some stimulation and nothing is working, but I can't get my mind off of sex!
Her body was aching for action and her toy couldn't give her the pleasure she so badly needed.

She went to her computer, where she had a naughty site she enjoyed. She zoomed in there for fun and games. She watched the girls and guys playing naughty. She touched herself as she watched four different men, but nothing happened. She clicked over to watch some live action on streaming hot sex cams. She finally stumbled across something that really turned her on and she reached for a toy, letting it go to work. Her body shook in anticipation as she watched the kinky wildness between various couples. She focused in on one guy who was simply yummy. He was handsome, yet savage. His deeds were barbaric, but London found herself longing for him to spank her. She was naughty and deserved to be punished too. She reached for her other toy and placed it inside as she watched his action and copied his motions. She closed her eyes and fantasized, his cock deep in her sex and thrusting into her as if she had crossed over into the porn site with him. She wished she was there with him, on the screen right now with others watching him punish her. She homed in on him and felt the explosion building up inside her. She trembled and moaned as her eyes rolled back. She welcomed the feeling and finally relaxed.

Exhausted, she crawled back into bed as the sun began to rise. Although it was out of character for her, she thought she might sulk for a while longer in bed today. She promised herself that she would go shopping tomorrow, as that was always the remedy for any ailment.

Chapter 12
HOT STICKY CINNAMON ROLLS

L
ondon arrived at the mall just after it opened in the early morning hour. It was quiet with the exception of a few shoppers still making returns and exchanges of poor-choice gifts they'd received during the holiday season. As she strolled along, the irresistible aroma of fresh-baked pastries drew her in. She followed the scent to the bakery where she and Grams used to go when they shopped together. She ordered a colossal-sized cinnamon roll, smothered in rich, melting icing that ran down the sides of the warm roll and pooled on the plate. She chuckled to herself that she almost needed a bib to devour this delicious treat. She battled with her conscience as she gorged, thinking,
This probably contains enough fat and calories for two whole days.
She licked the icing from her fingers and justified her indulgence: at least she hadn't stayed in bed all day again today.

She had gotten out of the house and on with her life today. She washed the gooey snack down with an espresso, disposed of her dish, and headed to the restroom to wash her sticky hands.

Now she was sugared up and ready for some power shopping.
She strolled a bit more, eyeing the store window displays and the vendors along the midway. She was amazed at how quickly the retailers moved on to the next fashion, the next season, the next holiday. Christmas decorations had already been whisked away and replaced with hearts and cupids for Valentine's Day, which of course made her think of Deacon. She frowned as she thought of her own Christmas decorations that she needed to go home and take down, alone. Her heart suddenly sank and she cringed, choking back tears.

She turned her attention to another dazzling and cheerful store window display that was already promoting attire for spring break. Sun and beach cutouts covered the walls of the store with lively images. The mannequins were staged in vibrant string bikinis with matching sarongs, or colorful shorts and capri pants with sexy summery tops, posed amid sand and seashells, beach towels and chairs, with backdrops of panoramic ocean views. London perked up with the liveliness of the displays and thought a tropical vacation would be in order very soon indeed.

As she headed for the store, she had an eerie feeling of eyes upon her. She looked around the corridor of the mall but didn't notice anyone paying particular attention to her. She brushed off the intuition and carried on. As she entered yet another shop, her senses were overwhelmed by party music and the fragrance of coconut oil. Her body moved to the beat as she whirled through the store, loading up her arms with bright sundresses, skirts, swimsuits, and an assortment of shorts, tops, pants, and accessories. She headed for the fitting rooms.

She emerged from the dressing room with a few things: shorts, capris, and matching shirts. At the register, she picked up more, sucked in as she was by the point-of-sale displays. She selected coordinating sunglasses, nail polish, lip gloss, and a
beach bag. She swiped her card, feeling the rush of spending rejuvenate and empower her emotionally. She gathered her bags and headed out toward her favorite department store. Once there, she told herself she would focus on more realistic purchases for the current season. The weather was still bitterly cold out, and she hoped to find a new outfit to bundle up in as she braved the elements.

She felt eyes upon her once again, that uncomfortable feeling of being followed. This time she did notice a guy trailing not far behind. She sought out her personal shopping assistant in the store, a woman named Krystal, first thing. She greeted the woman, didn't say anything about feeling stalked, but rather gave her packages to Krystal behind the counter while she shopped, then Krystal led her over to women's apparel, where she offered suggestions and paired garments for her to choose from. After they'd chatted awhile and looked at garments Krystal pulled for her to consider, London saw the suspicious man enter the store and then confided that she felt she was being stalked. Krystal subtly looked around to check the man's behavior and agreed that he was acting a bit strange. She silently alerted security by pressing a button on her radio. They would now be monitoring her location by video and sending officers to the area.

London and Krystal continued shopping, and the creeper remained in the area, but someone from security had arrived, according to Krystal. Minutes later while Krystal walked away to pull more clothes for London, she felt herself being jerked backward. The strap of her bag caught in the crook of her arm. London turned, screamed, and pulled back, holding on to her purse despite the pain. She also kicked at the man and aimed to bury her two-and-a-half-inch boot heel into his groin. Her move worked. The purse snatcher fell back to the floor. The
security guy was next to them by then, putting the guy in a hold. Another security person from the store appeared.

“Are you okay, ma'am?” asked one of the officers.

“I'm fine, thank you,” replied London. The stalker was up on his feet and handcuffed. The security officer took a breath, looked at her, and said, “That was impressive.” The other officer smiled.

“Thank you. My kickboxing classes finally paid off, I guess.” She chuckled as she flipped her hair back over her shoulder and grinned. Krystal was standing at London's side looking at her customer with an expression of awe.

“Wow, London. You'll have to share your trainer's name with me,” said Krystal, smiling at her.

London was a bit shaken up, but she and Krystal had a mission to complete. Krystal brought her a bottle of water and sat her down to look at the great outfits they collected, including snug-fitting black leggings paired with a long charcoal and silvery gray cashmere sweater that plunged into a V-neck to accentuate her cleavage. The sweater was accessorized with a black elastic belt that sat high on her figure, emphasizing her tiny waist. To top it off, she chose three-inch platform black zippered over-the-knee boots.

“Now that's an outfit to kick some ass in, London.” They both laughed. Krystal was still energized by all the excitement as she gathered up all of London's purchases. Since there was still almost three months left of winter, she also suggested a new black leather midlength trench coat with a faux-fur neckline, stylish hats, scarves, and gloves to accompany London's practical wintry selections. London also made some lavish jewelry purchases to help her cope with the nakedness she was feeling on her left hand. She paid at the register, surprised to find that many of her clothing purchases were discounted at
clearance pricing, and she thanked Krystal graciously with a thirty percent tip for her services. She felt empowered as she sauntered out of the store, toting her new wardrobe collections with an assortment of fashions suitable for every season.

As the brisk air hit her face outside the mall, she felt revived. She had taken charge of her emotions through a therapeutic shopping trip. She had fought off an attacker without getting hurt. She wouldn't want to have to do it again, but she was proud of herself. London had grown tired of being pushed around and taken advantage of by men, and the attacker had picked the perfect moment to mess with her. Maybe she had been helped by the early morning sugar high of that cinnamon roll. She patted her stomach and smiled.

She loaded her purchases and climbed into the SUV and noticed that her cell phone was on the car charger. She was surprised that she hadn't even missed having the phone on her, but then again she wasn't looking forward to anyone's phone calls right now. She checked it and saw that she had several voicemails from Deacon. She only partially listened to the messages, each one a repeat of the last with him begging for forgiveness, begging to see her. She deleted them all, shrugged it off, and tossed her phone into her purse. She felt rejuvenated and happy to still have so much time left in the day. She wouldn't let anything stand in her way. She was now determined to head home and take down the Christmas decorations. Her adrenaline raced through her body as she drove and she felt the need to burn off some more pent-up aggression in a productive manner.

She put away her purchases at home and noticed the light blinking on the answering machine. She listened this time to each message, all from Deacon. She gazed out the window watching the new afternoon snow falling to the ground in a
fresh blanket of white. Inspired for her own fresh start to a brand-new year, she bundled up and headed out to the yard to take down the decorations. Those twinkling lights had continued to mock her as she thought about her future.

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