Penthouse (29 page)

She peers through the peephole. There is no one there. As she cracks open the latched door and peeks out, she is startled.
She unlatches the door, opening it wide to reveal a bouquet of helium-filled balloons with a huge yellow
one in the center. It is anchored by a soft, cuddly stuffed animal. Taped to it is a card.

As she reaches down for it, goose bumps rush over her body in a torrent. Opening the card, her heart is silenced as she reads,
“Hi…Kathy, my darling.”

BY
A. L
EE
H
ALO

F
or nearly an hour, I studied the last couple in the cafe. They laughed quietly, not seeming to care about the world around
them. Minute by minute, his hand crept farther up her knee. I thought of how warm it must be up there. He whispered something
that made her look down at the floor, smile, and giggle. The way her blond wavy hair fell in her face reminded me of Alison.

When she raised her eyes, she stared back at me, licking her lips at the sight of my growing bulge. She turned her face to
his. They kissed, their tongues darting in and out of each other’s mouths. She placed her right hand on his jewels and squeezed
them. I imagined Alison jerking off that asshole she ran off with. Did he make her laugh like that? Did she let him touch
her like that in public? I slugged the remaining wine in my glass.

Her legs opened slightly, then snapped shut, trapping his hand inside. She closed her eyes and parted her mouth in longing.
I remembered how stroking Alison’s clit made
her squirm. How she became deliciously wet. How loudly she’d moan when I lapped up her syrup.

The ponytailed waitress passing by didn’t even glance at them when she briskly dropped the check onto their table. She ran
up the metal staircase, her footfalls echoing. I watched her tight little ass disappear and then refocused my attention.

He was still up her skirt with one hand, and kneading her breast with the other. He whispered something else. She then threw
back her head, clenching her teeth. I thought I heard a low moan. After he withdrew his hand, I saw his fingers glistening.
I could smell her pussy from across the room and got so hard, I thought I’d tear through my jeans. I took another big gulp
of wine.

“Okay! Okay, we closed, eh!” boomed the big French chef storming from the kitchen. His voice startled everyone, even causing
me to choke. I barely noticed the couple getting up after he slammed his fist on their table.

“I said good night, you no understand! Now, leaf!”

I must have been really hacking away because the next thing I knew someone was hitting me hard on the back.

“I’m all right, really, I’m okay!” I turned to see who was attempting to save me and saw the pixie face of the waitress with
the tight ass. I was surprised such strength could come from such a petite woman. For an instant, I wondered what else about
her would surprise me.

“You okay?” she asked, sincerely concerned and looking hard into my eyes.

“Oh, I’m much better now.” I grinned. The chef locked the entrance and approached us, shaking his head. It was time to leave
and I didn’t want his fist to slam on my table.

“That man and woman! No shame, eh,” he grumbled, throwing his hands up in disgust. I abruptly stood up, only
to have him push down my shoulder. Although I was much taller than he, I could see him slicing through a round of beef with
a single blow.

“You stay,” he said, his voice softer.
“S’il vous plaît,
an aperitif ? On the house. My niece Chloe and me, we see you in here almost every night.”

It was true. Although I wasn’t at the cafe every night, I was there often, not being able to bear being alone in my big loft
and bored with the bar scene. Chloe and I knew each other, but only by face. She was the head waitress and always darting
around the cafe. He introduced himself as Jacques.

“I’m Joel.” I offered my hand. He shook it hard.

“So, you have no woman anymore, Joel.” Wasn’t that observant of him?

“Chloe and me, we watch you come in all alone.” She nodded. So, little Chloe’s been watching me, eh?

“You’ve been such good customer. Stay.”

While I appreciated the hospitality, I was already a little drunk and wasn’t sure if I wanted him to catch me ogling his hottie
niece.

“
Oui,
stay!” Chloe chimed in for the first time. “You must. Uncle insists, it would be an insult.” Her delicate fingers undid the
first two buttons of her jacket.

“Well, I would never want to insult your uncle,” I conceded.

He laughed heartily and walked to the bar. Chloe and I looked at each other. A bead of sweat crawled down her neck, disappearing
under her jacket. I imagined how that little drop would taste on my tongue. How I’d lick its salty trail between her firm
breasts. Jacques returned, placing two full glasses in front of us.

“Chloe will keep you company. I must finish downstairs and lock up.”

“Uncle, let me help you.”

“No!” He held up a hand in protest. “No, I do alone! You stay until customer leaves!”

Once Jacques split, we started to really talk. Chloe pulled up a chair and straddled it. Her white trousers took on a tinge
of pink from her skin. Even though her pants were loose, I could tell she had shapely legs. When she removed her barrette,
she shook free her dark silky hair and let it cascade to her shoulders.

Chloe explained that she had just graduated from culinary school in Paris and was being groomed to start a new family restaurant.
I listened and watched as she undid another button, revealing another inch of smooth skin. I was getting harder than a day-old
baguette.

“People get such pleasure from eating,” she said. “I like to give people this pleasure.” She tilted her head to the side and
ran her finger up and down the wet stem of her glass.

“What about your lost lover?” she asked.

I told how we met on a photo shoot. How the day she disappeared, she left nothing but a note and a mattress.

“Oh, Joel, I’m sorry.” Chloe started to stroke the top of my hand. Her complexion was porcelain perfect. Her lips were so
full, so soft. Her green eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

“I want to kiss you.” But before I could even make a move, she cleared the table with a quick sweep of her arm, sending everything
to the floor with a crash.

“Chloe! Are you all right!” Uncle Jacques sounded like he was halfway up the basement stairs, holding his huge butcher knife,
ready to lop off my meat!

“It’s fine! I dropped the bottle. No problem, I’m cleaning it up,” Chloe called back while giving me a look full of heat.

“My fault!” I added.

I grabbed her by the jacket, pulled her toward me, and thrust my tongue in her eager mouth. She threw her arms around my neck
and sucked on my tongue. I wanted to devour her.

I dragged her around the table, and sat her on it directly in front of me. She opened her legs and I stood between them, pulling
her against my crotch. She wrapped them around my waist and started grinding her crotch into mine. I put my hands up her jacket
and felt the softness of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples. She pulled my shirt out of my pants, slid her hands up
my chest, then started digging her nails into my back. I kissed her lower and lower down her neck until I reached the hollow
of her throat, where I lingered with my tongue. Her legs tightened around me.

Suddenly, she tore open her jacket and the buttons went flying everywhere. Her nipples were so pink, her breasts so creamy.
I dragged my tongue down between them, making a spiral until I reached the bull’s-eye of her right tit. I felt her nipple
get even harder when I gnawed on it while pinching the other.

“Bite them, bite them harder.
Oui!
” she whispered loudly. For an instant, I thought of her uncle just downstairs. But when she unzipped my fly and wrapped her
hands around my thick sausage, I could only think of her. When I touched her pussy through her trousers and felt how wet she
was, I couldn’t wait to get inside.

I tore off my shirt, and before long we were completely naked. Pretty soon, that little round table was way too small
for what I wanted to do to her. With her legs still tightly around me, I carried Chloe to the metal staircase.

I took a seat on a step and just stared, admiring her exquisite breasts, her long elegant arms, her bright eyes. I ran a finger
down her delicate strip of pubic hair, down to her lips, and made small circles. I felt her clit swell. She started to drip
with her sweet nectar. I spun her around and had her sit on the stair. Chloe gasped from the cold of the metal. I’d warm her
up in no time. I rubbed my rock-hard shaft against her moist folds. We were both starting to breathe harder. The smell of
her cunt was so sweet and so strong, I had to bury my face in it. She had the most delectable pussy! And she sure liked me
licking her! She thrust up her hips every time I stroked her with my tongue. Then I started to use my finger too, sending
it slowly in and out of her hole, while I sucked longingly at her hard clit.

“Oui, oui,”
she cried in that loud whisper. I grabbed her ass and pulled as much of her steamy cunt as I could into my mouth. She grabbed
the banister. She arched her back. She cried out and her sap flowed all over my face.

“Are you sure you’re all right up there?” Uncle Jacques yelled from down below.

“Yes.” Chloe laughed, trying desperately to catch her breath. “We’re just having a grand time.”

Under which table did I leave my pants? Of course I forgot to look for them as soon as Chloe slipped my dick in her tender
mouth.

“Mmmm,” she purred. “I can tell how good you’ll taste.” With each flick of her tongue, I felt a surge all the way down to
my toes. Back and forth with her head, then around and around with her tongue. She slipped my balls
into her hot mouth. Then she went back to sucking fast. It was getting impossible to hold it in any longer.

“I want to taste you now!” That’s all she had to say. I exploded harder than any champagne bottle could.

“Mmmm!” I looked down at her face and saw come on her chin. She wiped it away with her finger, which she licked clean. I sat
down next to her on the stairs and again admired her beautiful nude body. Chloe saw I was ready for more action and smiled.

She climbed onto me with her tits dangling in my face. She lowered herself down onto my cock, then glided up and down, slowly,
steadily. I wrapped my hands around her narrow waist and helped her move. Faster, harder, deeper she ground herself into me.
When I couldn’t hold out any longer, I plunged my cock in hard. She bit my shoulder and didn’t come back up.

I felt her muscles ripple and held her tight. With a single thrust, she ground her pelvis into me and we both came.

“You kids finished the wine yet?” I could hear a door closing and knew Uncle Jacques was in for a big surprise. Chloe leapt
up and ran behind the bar, her buns glowing in the dark. She turned and winked at me, laughing while I scrambled for my clothes.
I threw my shirt in my knapsack and zipped my leather jacket all the way to the collar.

“You smile so big, you must be really drunk, eh. Ha-haha-ha!” Jacques was now wearing a sports jacket and led me to the door.
Chloe was soon standing behind him, wearing a light blue wool sweater, her beautiful hair again in a ponytail.

“Now, Joel, we must say
bon soir.
Come again soon?”

“Thank you, I definitely will! That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, and such delicious wine.” I meant it.

The two stepped outside with me. As Jacques turned to lock the door, Chloe kissed me on both cheeks. Then in a voice pitched
low for only me, “Come eat me… with us… again soon,” said Chloe, running her tongue over her lips.

“Of course,” I replied. I love to eat French.

BY
D
EBORAH
H
UNT

W
hile standing on a London underground platform, I impatiently flicked a pen cap between my teeth, my map marked with haphazard
lines. An innocent act, my playing with the pen cap, but it was enough to catch the attention of a bystander.

I stopped what I was doing and glanced at him. His gaze was on my mouth. He did not look away. He stood with another man.
They wore expensive business clothes, I noticed, and I idly wondered if they were Dutch or German by their blond hair, blue
eyes, and imposing builds.

A train stopped at the platform. I squeezed inside a packed car, my panty hose bristling against the tweed of someone’s suitcase.
I smelled the scent of rain on my skin. Fooled by the warm morning, I’d left behind my coat and umbrella and got caught in
a spring shower. My clothes were still damp. My blouse stubbornly hugged my skin, revealing the white lacy bra I wore beneath.

As the train took off, I held on to a bar above me, realizing my breasts were eye level with a man seated across
from me. He adjusted the crotch of his pants as he looked at me. I tried to adjust my blouse, but only succeeded in hardening
my nipples with the tug.

Looking away from him, I remembered yesterday afternoon when I had been coming up the stairs at the underground station. A
man had come up behind me on the steps and caressed the inside of my legs. His hand slid up my skirt, brushing my inner thighs.
At the top, I broke away and spun, but he had disappeared in the crowd.

After it happened, I hurried to my room, where I found the cotton crotch of my underwear was damp.

It seemed odd that I had to come all the way to London to get damp panties from a casual grope in an underground station,
but then I hadn’t thought about dating in ages. I had been so caught up in work and school that I hadn’t even given myself
the chance to think I was desirable.

I smoothed my hands over the curves of my hips and looked at the shape of my body. I tried to imagine how the men in the subway
saw me. My hips were full, my breasts smallish, but they were large enough to cup and squeeze together to make cleavage. My
waist was thin, and my limbs were lanky. They could be either graceful or awkward at times.