Pretty In Ink (7 page)

WILSON

I stood in the conference room staring at the stacks of boxes. Uncertain of how to provide the clothes to Stevie without making her seem self-conscious, I did what I always did when I was uncertain of how to proceed with matters.

I turned toward the open door. “Andrew!”

After a moment, he appeared. “Yes, Sir?”

I waved my hands toward the boxes of clothes. Five stacks with five various sized boxes in each stack.

“These have been sitting here for over a week. Any ideas on how I can give them to her without making her feel like a charity case?” I asked.

His response was immediate, as if he’d been thinking about it long before I asked.

“A fashion show, Sir.”

I folded my arms in front of my chest and turned to face him. “Pardon me?”

“A fashion show, Sir. Take the clothes home and have her try on each and every article, parading herself in front of you no differently than if she were in a fashion show. I’m quite certain you’ll both enjoy it. Explain the truth to her. You purchased the clothes hoping she would enjoy wearing them as much as you took pleasure in the thought of what she would look like wearing them,” he said.

“I like it,” I said as I shifted my eyes toward the mountain of boxes.

“They’re not a hand out, Sir. They were truly purchased with her in mind,” he said.

“Agreed,” I said with a nod.

“Shall we carry them to the elevator,” he asked.

Still gazing blankly at the boxes, I nodded my head. “Sure.”

I didn’t want her to feel that I was using my wealth to attempt to purchase her admiration, but in hindsight, I could see her thinking just that. I believed Stevie liked me for other reasons, and in fact I was sure of it, but I wanted her to be as sure as I was. If I were able to turn the clock forward and have my life in perfect order, she would be able to simply buy whatever she wished, and money would no longer be a concern for her. Incapable of making such adjustments, a fashion show would have to suffice.

If she agreed, it would be quite entertaining to see her try on everything. Although I hadn’t thought of it at the time I bought the clothes, for the last ten days my mind had been filled with thoughts of her unfavorable reaction to my having purchased them for her. Now, visions of her prancing around long corridor in the living room caused me to grin like a Cheshire cat.

After three trips to the parking garage, the boxes were loaded and my mind was far from the work I should have been performing. After a few minutes of spinning in circles in my chair and listening to music, I decided taking the clothes to my house and preparing for Stevie’s arrival would be time better spent. As I stood from my chair and glanced around my office, the elevator bell rang, indicating an arrival on my floor.

I no more than considered walking toward my office door to take a look down the hallway, and she stormed through my office door.

Oh fuck.

Dressed in an orange pants suit, conservative heels, and still wearing her Prada sunglasses, she looked like the bitch she certainly was. I had completely forgotten about mailing the letter, but now that she was standing before me, I wondered what took her three weeks to arrive.

“I’m relieved to see you’re alright,” she said as she turned and pulled the door closed behind her.

Still standing a few feet from the door, she folded her arms in front of her chest and sighed heavily. Seeing her wasn’t something I had planned on doing, nor was it ever anything I enjoyed.

“My psychiatrist said the letter was written by someone in in complete despair. I find the fact you mailed it to be disturbing. I would have at least expected you to come by and have a discussion with us,” she said as she removed her sunglasses.

I shook my head and waved my hand in her direction. “Discard it. I can assure you, I’m fine.”

She sighed heavily again. It was something she did often, and I found it quite irritating. After shifting her eyes around my office, she fixed her eyes on me and continued.

“I doubt that, Asher. You need help. The letter was a cry for just that, and I want you to know your father and I are willing to do whatever we must to provide everything you need. He doesn’t know, by the way.”

For me to believe either of them would do anything that was in my best interest was laughable. More concerned with their wealth, the public’s perception of me, and the bottom line of my net worth, I doubted my welfare was on the long list of what they found to be important. Garnering their attention required shouting from a mountaintop, and anything less went unnoticed.

“I have no idea why I mailed it, Mother. I was having a rough week, and it just happened. Things have changed a lot in the last few weeks.”

“You need to move to New York, Los Angeles, or Chicago. You need to meet someone, and it will never happen here. You may be surprised at what a woman can do for you,” she said.

I clasped my hands together and studied her. For a fleeting moment, I considered telling her about Stevie, but decided against it. I certainly didn’t need her blessing or approval in any way, and to tell her anything would produce nothing of value.

“I’ve got work to do. We’ll talk soon,” I said.

“Come by after your quarterlies are complete. Your father’s been anxious to see them,” she said.

I nodded my head and walked around the corner of my desk. It was all the affirmation I could provide. The last thing I wanted to do was provide my father with continued proof of my increasing wealth. Everything I had, I earned on my own and with no assistance from him or my mother. Their incessant prying into the financial side of my life was done for one reason, and one reason alone – to provide them with a sense of their successes. Without a doubt, a false sense, but they didn’t see it that way. They believed their direction attributed to my wealth, and the wealthier I became, the more successful they perceived themselves being as parents.

She opened the door, gazed over her shoulder, and blew me a kiss. 

“See you soon, Dear,” she said as she turned away.

I raised my right hand slightly and waved.

The last thing I needed was to see my parents. I felt it was time for me to live my life for me, without their influences or input, and for once I truly believed I was doing just that. Feeling almost ill that my mother had stopped in, and even more so considering the subject matter discussed, I realized there was only one person who could bring me out of the foul mood I felt I was certain to spiral into.

After I heard the elevator door close, I sauntered across the office, pausing as soon as I reached the threshold of the door. After peering in each direction, I shifted my eyes toward the ceiling and exhaled.

“I’ll be taking the rest of the day off, Andrew,” I sighed.

“Give Stevie my best,” he responded. “And enjoy yourself, Sir.”

“I certainly will. And, I’ll try,” I responded.

But I knew if Stevie was involved, I wouldn’t even have to try. Simply being in her presence was enough to lift my spirits to an all-time high.

And at that moment, being lifted up was exactly what I needed.

STEVIE

I had always believed people were like oranges. Peeling away the outer layer - the protection - was required to find something tasteful. Proceeding without doing so would always produce a bitter taste.

And, so far, no one had bothered to peel away my outer skin.

Until now.

“Ready?” I hollered.

“I’ve been ready, what are you doing in there?” he shouted.

I pushed the door open and walked across the tile floor with as much grace as possible. After walking past him, I paused, turned, and allowed the purse to swing at my side. The shoes had a 6”heel, but with a 2” platform they were very easy to walk in. The dress was black with a colorful floral print, and although I recognized none of the designer’s names, everything was obviously very high quality.

“Well?” I asked.

“Speechless,” he said.

“I like these heels, but I really liked the ones I had on a minute ago. With the studs,” I said over my shoulder.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, he crossed his legs and rested his hands in his lap. “Personally, I preferred the leopard shoes you wore with the tattered jeans, and the sleeveless black dress. I guess it’s good you don’t have to just pick out one outfit.”

“I seriously get to keep all of these? Everything?” I asked.

He grinned and nodded his head.

“I don’t know what these shoes cost, but everyone sure talks a lot about them,” I said as I twisted my foot to the side and gazed down at the red sole.

“I didn’t pay attention. It’s irrelevant. All that matters is that you like everything,” he said.

“I love everything,” I responded. “What possessed you…”

He cocked his head to the side and shrugged his shoulders. “I was just daydreaming, and it spawned an online shopping spree. I’d see a beautiful dress, and couldn’t help but wonder what you’d look like in it. I knew if it was beautiful without you, it couldn’t do anything but become more so if you were wearing it. And, there was only one way to find out that I knew of,” he said as he stood from his seat.

I had heard people say in my past that we are a product of our environment. I never really paid much attention to the phrase, or gave it any thought. Now, I believed it made perfect sense. The person I had been all my life was a result – not wholly, but definitely primarily – of my financially inability to produce change.

My finances had always been limited to paying my rent and supplying my boyfriends with beer, drugs, and motorcycle parts. Not once was my financial focus on myself, nor did I have the ability or desire to really make it so.

Standing in the living room of Wilson’s mansion wearing my new dress, holding my new purse, and wearing my new Red Bottom shoes, I wondered if everyone on this earth was able to live their life without financial restraint, just who they would become.

The clothes and the car didn’t change who I was, but they allowed me to feel the way I had always wanted to feel.

Beautiful.

“So you think I make the clothes even more beautiful?” I asked.

He shook his head from side to side as he slowly walked in my direction. “I believe the clothes are a means of allowing you to believe you’re as beautiful as you truly are.”

He was truly a wonderful man. I swallowed the lump in my throat, but I wasn’t able to do anything about the butterflies in my stomach or my rapidly beating heart. I felt like crying. To go from a man who would punch me in the face for not having dinner ready to being treated like royalty wasn’t an easy thing. As my eyes welled with tears, I gazed down at the floor. He continued to slowly walk toward me. I pivoted on the balls of my feet and turned away.

I had to.

“Thank you,” I murmured as I walked away.

You’re beautiful, too.

I got undressed, placed the clothes back into their boxes, and put on the jean shorts and flip-flops I had worn previously. As I looked in the mirror and attempted to fix my hair, I felt like less of a woman. I gazed at myself blankly in the mirror feeling slightly confused. Wearing the clothes Wilson had purchased made me feel different. I felt beautiful, worthy of his praise, and although the clothes didn’t transform me into someone else, I definitely didn’t feel like I was my normal self while wearing them.

As I had paraded through the home wearing the new clothes, I was filled with pride.

And I liked it.

I got undressed and opened the boxes until I found the sleeveless black dress. After putting on the dress and the leopard shoes, I tossed my jean shorts and flip-flops in the empty box. Feeling the strange sense of pride again, I turned toward the mirror and studied my reflection. 

I had never been a woman who required praise nor was I one to appreciate it when people provided it. Generally, I met people with a snide comeback or a cocked eyebrow if they made a comment about my beauty. Looking at myself in the mirror, however, I needed no one to tell me I was beautiful.

I could clearly see it.

After another quick study of myself in the mirror, I reached under the dress, pulled off my panties, and tossed them on top of the boxes. I fought against the smile my mouth was curling into as I walked out into the living room. Wilson sat in his chair, facing away from me and talking on his phone. As I carefully paced my steps and approached him, I made every effort to keep the heels from clicking on the wooden floor. Half way to where he was seated, he glanced toward me. His eyes fell to the floor, slowly rose upward, and stopped as his gaze met mine.

“Andrew, my apologies. I’ll have to call you back,” he said as he stood.

He tossed his phone into the cushion of the chair and ran his hand through his hair nervously.

“Magnificent,” he said. “You look magnificent.”

I did my best to curtsy. “I picked your favorites.”

“You’re my favorite,” he said with a smile.

I silently mouthed the words “thank you” and attempted another curtsy.

“If you were able to pick your favorite thing to do in the entire world, what would it be?” he asked.

“You,” I responded.

He shook his head lightly. “No. Your favorite thing to do. Let’s do something.”

“You,” I responded. “I want to do you.”

We had been together for almost three weeks, and he had become quite used to my sexual advances. He really didn’t have a choice; I forced myself on him as often as I could. He had yet to ask me for sex or initiate it himself, which I dismissed to his constant concerns of doing everything in a proper manner.

As he stumbled to find words, I grabbed the hem of the dress and began to lift it. As the dress slowly revealed more and more of my naked body, his eyes went wider and wider. I continued to lift it until my hand was even with my face, at which point I stopped and did my best to look innocent.

It wasn’t easy.

I cocked my head to the side playfully. “Is it breezy in here?”

He shook his head. “Hot, it’s getting hot.”

“Maybe it’s my wet pussy catching the breeze from the air conditioner. You know how wet things feel cooler than dry things?” I asked as I swiveled my hips back and forth.

He nodded his head like a little boy who had been asked if he wanted a second piece of cake.

He stood statue still with his eyes focused on my bare hips.

I needed no invitation. Parading through the house for the last hour in various dresses, pants, and jeans made me feel like a beautiful little bitch, and it was time I rewarded him for a job well done.

The windows in the rear of his house went from wall to wall and from floor to ceiling, giving a wonderful view of the lake his house backed up to. While attempting to maintain some degree of innocence, I released the hem of the dress and let it fall. As his eyes fell at the same rate as the dress, I carefully placed one foot directly in front of the other and attempted my best Victoria’s Secret runway model impersonation as I walked to the large glass wall.

Being subtle had never been a strong point of mine. Upon reaching the wall, I hiked the dress over my hips and slapped my hands against the glass at shoulder height. While positioning my feet and arching my back, I saw him slowly walking in my direction out of my peripheral. Satisfied, I turned toward the glass, closed my eyes, and sighed.

My persuasive tactics were no longer necessary. While I was certain he was going to fuck me, I had no idea what foreplay, if any, may lead up to it. I wasn’t prepared for what ended up happening when it happened, but in hindsight, it was exactly what I needed at the time.

Although I later found that he wasn’t totally undressed, at the time, I had no idea. Standing with my eyes closed and my forehead resting against the glass, his chest against my back was the first indication he had arrived. His body pressing against me lasted all of half of a second before he shoved me completely full of cock. It was exactly what I wanted, and everything I had hoped for, but I was in no way ready.

“Harrumph,” I grunted at he pressed me into the glass.

His hand found my chin and gripped it tightly. He turned my head to the side and pressed his lips against my face, kissing carelessly along my cheek and jaw. As his mouth met mine, he bit my lower lip and thrust himself a little deeper.

“You little tease,” he said through his teeth.

He released my lip and moved his mouth to my ear.

“Not…a…tease,” I muttered.

“Raise your arms,” he breathed into my ear as he pounded his hips into my ass.

I raised my arms above my head in compliance. He slowly pulled himself from inside of me and raised the dress over my head. As he tossed it aside, he guided himself into my now soaking wet pussy.

I couldn’t count how many times I had been fucked in the past; I had been the girl who every other girl in school called a slut. It was far from the truth, my problem was that I really enjoyed sex, and fucking was something I rarely felt I could get enough of, no matter how many times I did it.

Being fucked by Wilson was an entirely new experience. I now felt like all of my other sexual encounters were me being
fucked with
, and not being truly fucked. With Wilson, there was no doubt in my mind what he was doing. He was fucking me.

And he was fucking me good.

Standing in my Red Bottom leopard heels with Wilson pounding himself into my pussy as if he were punishing me, the balls of my feet were on fire and my head was spinning.

In the past, reaching climax was difficult, infrequent, and time consuming. At best, it happened once during sex.

And then I met Wilson. 

I found out through him that my orgasms could be multiple, more satisfying, and quite draining of my desire to continue.

His hands pressed hard into my torso, and slowly worked their way to my boobs. As his fingers began to pinch my nipples, I flinched from the pain. I loved having my nipples pinched, and it seemed to be somehow directly tied to my reaching climax if done at the right time. As I wagged my knees back and forth and rocked on the toes of my shoes, he continued to twist my nipples in his very capable fingers.

“You’ve got a tight little pussy,” he growled into my ear.

My response was broken and choppy. “It’s…your…fat…cock,” I breathed.

I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. His warm breath in my ear, his fingers twisting my nipples, and my little pussy stuffed full of his throbbing cock was more than enough to bring me to quick climax.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the living room was the deciding factor. As I became almost hypnotized by the sound, our scent, and the feeling of his long thick dick sliding in and out of me, I began to tingle from my nipples to my soaking wet twat.

“Oh…fuck…” I howled.

“Oh fuck is right, you little tease,” he growled as he bit my ear.

And that was it.

The minute he bit my ear, I burst into an earth shattering, mind-blowing, muscle numbing orgasm. As my legs began to quiver and I fought to stay on my feet, he continued to fuck me until I finally collapsed on the floor.

With the inside of my thighs and the crack of my ass covered in my juices, and my legs still quivering, I gazed up at him. Standing over me with a twitching stiff cock and his slacks around his knees, he grinned.

“What the fuck?” I whined as I attempted to raise myself to my feet.

He placed one hand on his hip and raked the fingers of his other hand through his mop of hair.

“Wasn’t done,” he muttered.

“Didn’t mean you had to fuck me into retardation,” I said as I attempted to raise myself to my feet.

He gazed down at me and chuckled. “If you stand up, I’m going to fuck you. Look at it like a boxing match. Just stay down.”

“Seriously?” I said in a smart-assed tone.

He gripped his massive cock in his hand, shook it at me, and nodded his head.

I liked this side of Wilson. Not a huge change from when we met, just enough to remove a thin layer of his upbringing, and expose his true inner being. If he thought for one minute I was going to stay on the floor, he had another think coming. I pressed my palms onto the floor, straightened my elbows, and raised myself onto my quivering legs.