7 comments/ 26941 views/ 11 favorites How That Douchebag Got That Bitch By: PayDay Author's Note: This is my story, I wrote it, stealing is lame. If you don't like it, don't read it. Feel free to comment with any errors you find, I will feel free to delete them and call you an asshole out loud. Thanks for any votes, feedback, or favorites; Hope you enjoy: * It was coffee time. Early morning coffee time. Cold early morning coffee time. It might have been Monday, maybe Wednesday, as the cold young man was still a quart low before correct thinking, unclear and easily still ready for more bed. Emanuel Waters knew the draw of liquid caffeine, similar to low rent housing and crack addicts. The thought of embracing a burning cup in his fingers, freshly frozen from the window scraper, only spurned on the mostly frosty utility pick-up and its driver. The trip from his apartment to the coffee shop was just long enough to not let his vehicle warm-up; from the coffee shop to his job was just long enough for him to warm-up before stepping back out into the cold for the rest of the day. He laughed to himself at the thought: "Job, just over broke, and seldom from money." It didn't last as warm relaxing caffeine clarity addiction requirements, or coffee lust, pushed forward. He pulled safely, blinker involved, into the small family bakery where he bought his first cup, every day. Cream no sugar, weekends and holidays included. Some people meditate, he coffee'd daily to center his life, even if the time was always different. This day, whichever it was, was currently too early for normal people. It was still dark out, no sun, but with the early morning feel, as pre-dawn would appear like hours away. Forriguidos's had the freshest coffee around, Emanuel would know; as a personal taste connoisseur for himself, he had tried them all. Not to mention the pastries, though the man of thirty years never partook in their glory. He only purchased such things to make his crew of technicians and laborers happy to start the day. Emmanuel was not a fan of the cheap thrills of sugar. Every morning with the crew was the same, but the joke was always different. "You know these things will kill you, right?" Emmanuel said this Dennis, the older craftsman he employed, every day. "One of these days I'm going to bring in carrot sticks for you guys, you'll work better." Emanuel knew the rules of labor crews: Show no weakness and taunt as often as possible. "We'll fucking strike. Don't make me quit this shitty job and take these jerk-offs with me. We'll sue your ass too," Dennis had included the rest of the crew in the joke that day. It was better than the variation on the usual "You sound like my wife," as if Emanuel would know about wives beyond observation. Dennis had recently stopped using the wife jokes, as Emanuel would often point out, "well she is right, Karen's not always wrong, Den." The pair had worked together since before Emanuel went out on his own enterprise. They were good friends, and almost partners, as Dennis ran the crews, and would until he chose to retire. Emanuel did the rest, doing some specialty work here or there and anything involving paper or contract bids. Dennis had trained Emanuel since his apprenticeship, and he now trained the crew members just as well. What started as the foul mouthed wisdom filled foreman and the hard working snot nosed F.N.G. had become wealth and friendship for both, and a legacy for Emanuel early in his life. Today for once, Emanuel was skipping the desk all day - Dennis wasn't the desk type to begin with, as he was quite crude at times. Dennis was too old and too close to retiring for today's repair, it was a dangerous one, on top of being a doosy. Today's repair, whatever day it was, was hundreds of feet up on a chemical tower, and there was welding involved. It was really unnecessary for his friend of many years to do the job, and it was just out of skill range for his best technicians. Emanuel had volunteered in Dennis's stead when he decided to take the contract, preferring to have his friend's wisdom on the ground for safety. Dennis could still do the job, both knew it, but Emanuel could as well with more ease and less effort. Coffee ripped his mind from thoughts of death's door as he pulled into the space, leaving the truck to idle while he stepped out. Somehow, he closed the door to his truck in unison to one of those sleek luxury automobiles pulling into a space next to the door. Emanuel had forgotten to put his fuzzy hat on; his ears were cold as he studied the car, clearly kept in a garage, completely clean and frost free in the early morning haze. At least he remembered his cover-alls and thermal underwear, he couldn't leave those on the seat of his rumbling work truck, or he would be naked. *** Madeline Morrison was seldom awake at this hour. Early cross town meeting? Sure, that's early. This hour though, was a whole different meaning to early. This was a deposition, across the state, and first thing in the morning early. Had she not been willing herself awake with forced open eyes staring at the clock, she would have thought it was still the night before. "Screw this noise..." she said aloud smacking randomly at the top of the resounding alarm. Amazingly, Madeline, in her hitting, smacked a button that stopped the noise; which one specifically remained a mystery. Somehow, she was sitting up in her short, laced edge, nightgown; it's sheen reflected from the streetlight spilling into her bedroom through the gap in the long curtains. Instinctively, Madeline rubbed the sleep from her face and body, absently tweaking her hardened nipples as she went. She must have been dreaming about sex, most assuredly dreaming, since no man had shared the king-sized bed since her husband left. The thought of the day he left brought sudden passing sadness. "I just want out, Maddy, I don't love you anymore. You can have the house." She had not spoken to him since, actually hiring another lawyer instead of taking it herself. Her husband just left, not even leaving her for someone else, he just left. The fifteen year marriage had never brought children, though they were happy. She thought they were happy - she knew she was. Now, without him, her home felt empty. Madeline might have gone crazy had it not been for overworking at her firm and the home gym her now ex-husband had installed previously to her chagrin; a gym she swore, and a job she swore, that she would never obsess over. Another thought was poking the three years of loneliness out of her head. It was coffee. Coffee lust did not care that she was forty-five and lonely. "I need coffee..." She grumbled as she padded down the steps in her slippers, she didn't remember putting them on. A separate hand was rubbing each, both her plump behind and stunning face, as she walked to the coffee maker and sink in her home. The heavy unbound breasts tightly swung back and forth on her chest as she settled; Madeline thumped to a stop - nipples still poking and hair adrift - in front of the kitchen faucet, instantly reaching over to the machine a few feet away from her place at the fixture. Madeline, looking sexy in a daze, washed her hands before placing the empty glass pot under the faucet to fill as she continued on. She grabbed a filter from the cabinet - bare hard ass and a hint of panties peeking as she stretched -- and placed it in the basket, soon making her way to the fridge for the pre-packaged pre-ground commercial grounds. The sound of the rattling scoop in the empty container made her understand withdrawal. Panic flooded her face as the glass pot overflowed in the sink. Madeline stood straight, and the fridge closed, putting the shopping list at the top of the door directly in front of her face. The word "coffee" was written, and underlined twice, at the very bottom of the list. The alarm upstairs began to bellow again, she had hit the 'snooze' button. "oo....Cshit." Madeline's craving was shot as she walked to the sink and turned off the water, draining the pot and placing it back on the machine after she made sure there were not at least enough grounds for one cup. Madeline was boned; there would be no coffee here. Her addiction lust, rebounding with its own strength, reminded her of the 24-hour bakery just short of the highway, surely it was open at this hour. Madeline was running up the steps full speed to the bedroom of her empty home only moments later to shut off the alarm and head for the shower. *** "Wise beyond your years, even if you still look like a teenager." Dennis was always saying that to him. This smartly dressed business woman was proof positive of why he did. Emanuel knew the difference between a girl his own age or slightly younger, and an older woman. He was born as prey for the cougars, hoping to be devoured by them, but as yet to be separated from the herd. Sure, he had dated peers many times, but he fantasized of greater ages since he knew he could. This woman was one such fantasy. He had been single long enough, it could not have been at a better time. Tall, just a few inches short of his six plus feet in her heels; slim, naturally blonde, and not wearing stockings. It was like he had dressed her, and formed her, himself: To his own tastes. The texture of the visible skin on her legs and face was splotchy pink from the cold. Emanuel held the door, his ears freezing. "Ladies first..." he spoke through a tooth chatter while he motioned into the warmth and delicious scents with his hands, holding the door with his foot. "Why thank you, young man," the queen goddess said as she hopped into comfort. She took a few steps before she stopped, and turned - just as Emanuel walked in - in front of the closing door. "I love the hair, by the way. I keep telling my friends how I love the men with long hair. They keep telling me I'm crazy, but I like it." She was smiling at him, slight lines from years of practice accenting the gesture. Her eyes were green, she reminded Emanuel of a more beautiful Sharon Stone without the sense of foreboding evil. "Uh, really? Um, thank you," he said touching the bundle of hair on his head under the tie and motioning towards the coffee pot with the same hand as he primarily did for entry. He had been thinking of cutting it short, it was the one thing he just never did; his mind was changed if only for her, Samson would not cut his hair. "Ladies first." "You want the usual, Manny?" Tommy - the cashier, assistant baker, and box filler - called over to his favorite customer as he walked in back of the woman neither one had ever seen before. Emanuel always tipped, always, and he consistently ordered the same thing - a box of randoms - every weekday, Tommy just never knew when he would show up. "Yeah, Tommy, thanks. Add a couple extras today, please, also." Emanuel was intending to bribe the OSHA man with snacks to prevent pointless hassles and change the fellow's mood. Inspectors are seldom nice, and the nice ones are seldom. Free food always helps the situation. "You got it brotha," Tommy replied as he went to filling the folded white box with patterned assortment. "Come here often?" The stunning blonde was saying to him, looking at the coffee set-up in an 'I'm new here' fashion. "Every day, actually. Best coffee in town as far as I'm concerned. Best help around, too... Right, Tommy!?" Emanuel knew Tommy was watching and listening as he went about making his coffee, every man would stare at her. "Here, watch me..." His brain tingled as he showed the unknown woman where things were and how they worked. This woman before him couldn't help but suck the attention from a room, and make coffee fixation ignorable - momentarily in the least; she was an aged Helen, and young Elizabeth, Juliet in her later life. "You got it Mr. Waters, best in town." Tommy had been looking at Madeline's round and accentuated rear, where her jacket ended in the middle and her skirt continued to halfway down her thigh. The business skirt was slightly shorter than the weather should allow, blacker than the night/morning to match her cloth coat and gloves, but her hat was bright red and white. She was wearing one of the types of winter hat with the fuzzy ball on top and the flaps over the ears, dangling strings of the flaps intertwined with the golden blonde hair spilling out from underneath and to her shoulders. "Is it now?" The look of question was clearly on her face over the fascination of his height and hair; hair strangely the color of a harvest festival or autumn leaves, shining in multi-colored reflections, with natural blonde and dark brown streaks throughout to match his eyes. Some of it was hanging in his face, but only on one side. The smile, under his morning stubble, matched the rugged quality of his attire; it was not quite straight, not quite fitting. Emanuel had the mass tied together high in the back, with long, but trim, sideburns. Madeline couldn't help but think of Renegade, or Christopher Lambert and Johnny Depp, all the sexy long haired men she craved. She was going to flirt, time and coffee be damned, despite her lawyer's training. This Manny Waters did not seem nearly as crude as most of the blue-collar types she had seen, her favorite, and his voice was smooth and strong. She knew she needed a man - it was time - and Emanuel was a much better candidate than the spoiled lawyers and legal types she was surrounded by daily. "Well, if you think it's the best, you think you could tell me what I should get for breakfast this morning, Manny Waters? I have a long drive ahead of me, and I'm definitely going to be hungry," Madeline said, licking her lips quickly at the end while thinking "and horny - coffee." His coffee, the perfect color, but still too hot to sip, held his attention for a time while he spoke. "Full name's Emanuel, and sure. Are you a health nut? Maybe the 'no-sugar' type, Mrs..?" "Miss, Madeline, Maddy Morrison, and absolutely not," her smile was infectious. "...and I don't mind sticky fingers." She barely winked at him as she held out her hand, still stirring her sweetened brew on the coffee counter with a red straw, using the crossed-over other. Her gloved hand felt slightly cold against his bare one as they shook, apparently still holding some temperature from the outside. "Then I would suggest sticky buns, or the Chocolate-Caramel Snicker Doodle Danish," Emanuel was blowing on his coffee by the time he finished speaking. He was trying not to laugh at the innuendo'd retort to innuendo as he did, suggesting some of Dennis's favorite sweets. "Oh that sounds like heaven... Hey Tommy?" Madeline turned her attention. "Yes ma'am?" Tommy replied, he was listening in, thinking of making her sweet buns sticky. "I'll have two of those Danish's, some napkins, and this big 'ole cup of java, please." "Sure thing, ma'am," Tommy replied, bagging away, newly finished with Emanuel's regular. "After you," Emanuel was holding the same hand out again, gesturing her to the counter first after she had clicked the lid onto the disposable cup. "Such a gentleman, nice and handsome too. I bet your girlfriend treats you right." Madeline couldn't help but drag a finger across his cover-alls as she went, smiling to herself as he cringed at the word 'girlfriend' as if it were a curse. He was either married or single, she could tell it was very much one or the other, she read men every day. "Nope, sorry to disappoint," he was smiling wide, "no girlfriend. Why don't I give you a call sometime? Maybe you could treat me the right way, show me what I've been missing, Ms. Madeline Morrison." He bowed slightly as he spoke, his eyes were hazel. "Think I could treat you to a nice evening, maybe dinner?" He cocked his head to the side, turning his attention to the main counter, and Tommy at the register, never breaking eye contact with her. "Hey Tommy, why don't you throw her stuff on my tab," Emanuel knew how to seize opportunity; he would never forgive himself if he did not, especially this time. No wedding ring, Madeline was looking, he was fair game, and generous even if it cost very little. All lawyers understand principles, even if they don't have them. "Why thanks, Manny, that's sweet of you." All lawyers also have cards handy. "Here you go. All my contact info is on there. Why don't you give me a call, say, Saturday night sometime?" "Absolutely," Emanuel was looking at the card he held as if it were platinum, pressed in a border of gold and silver. "Thanks, handsome, I'll be waiting. See you later, Tommy," Madeline spoke as she dropped a five in the jar - marked "Tipping IS NOT a city in China" -- and grabbed the white crinkled bag, hopping out of the store with her wallet under her arm; all before Emanuel could or did look up. "Nice, dude, very nice. That bitch was smokin' " Tommy was smiling ear to ear while he wrote the charges onto the slip for Emanuel to sign to the sound of the closing door. "Hey, watch your mouth... and you're right, she was something, wasn't she? ...Madeline..." Emanuel was speaking her name aloud as he signed the slip, pulling his copy from underneath, and folding it into his upper front pocket. He dropped a five in the comic tip jar. "Ha, watch my mouth? I'd watch her mouth do some shit. Christ's sake. Sometimes, Manny, you're almost a bitch. You'd better call her or I'm telling Dennis you have a mangina." Tommy was enjoying himself, Emanuel and Dennis had been customers for years. "She's prolly got kids you know, if not, I'd give her some..." "I hope you held the spit today, Dennis will be pissed if there's too much." Emanuel was making his way out as he spoke, not really wanting to hear it. "Tell him I put in extra loogies 'cause you asked for it. See you tomorrow, eh Manny." Tommy was waving. "You know it, see you tomorrow, Tommy," Emanuel was shooting Tommy the finger as he walked out the door. "That guy, he's cool, but sometimes he's such a douchebag." Tommy said to the closed door, smiling as he went to re-stock a shelf with pastries from the back, and maybe to grab a smoke since is was still early before the rush. Emanuel was thinking of nothing but Madeline, as per her card of the firm of Horowitz, Ludwig, and Morrison, easily the most stunning woman he had ever seen. He never had the nerve to ask out a woman older than himself before now, let alone one quitwe so beautiful. He would have to tell Dennis of his courage and her looks, it just came naturally. He hopped into his now toasty warm truck, and took the first taste of his perfect brew. Emanuel Waters realized it was Thursday - shortly after the sip and a groan - while he placed his fuzzy hat onto his head and frozen ears. *** Emmanuel had called in the morning, to plan, on Saturday, and arrived five minutes before he said he would, just before 6:00 PM. "He really is a gentleman," Madeline said to herself as she watched the antique sedan pull into the driveway of her home. She was watching from the inside of the glass storm door on the front of her house, just past the classic overhang front porch. Emanuel had told her to dress warm for their trip out to dinner. "My car takes a while to get toasty, but don't worry, it's worth it. I know of a great little place, how do you like spicy food? Great, see you about six?" His voice had carried strangely over the phone, like a muffled version of reality. Madeline took his advice to heart, putting on her full length white, fuzzy, and warm button down coat, covering her day's preparation beneath. It was her favorite winter wear, as it had a large hood to prevent hair mistakes caused by hats and it almost touched the ground, hiding all but the tips of her shoes. She had not worn its glory since a client dinner last year. The robe-ing was intended for regular outings, but she never had the opportunity; her only social time seemed like after work drinks during happy hour while in work clothes. How That Douchebag Got That Bitch She had assumed, in her lawyers training, that he did not have the nicest of cars, as young as he was. That would explain the cold warning. She had been wrong. It was in pristine condition, even if it was a four-door Rambler. Emanuel really was a gentleman; he had brought two lone stems of out of season Alstroemeria, as if he had known her favorite flower and the colors to match her lipstick, coat, or shoes. He looked good, perfect to her, in slightly loose cut khaki's and a distinct, not leather, black cloth jacket. His shoes were leather though, cut in a relaxed moccasin style in a light brown tone. He matched, to her surprise, for as young and single as he was. His hair was in a high pony tail, with his long bangs tucked behind his ears. Madeline, through the glass and looking, watched the colors of it move in the light of her porch. He walked up the few wooden steps, right up to her through the glass, smiled, and pressed the doorbell. Emanuel really was a gentleman - and funny to her as well. "Good evening, Madeline," he crooned to her when she opened the door, "I brought these for you." Casually, and with a slight bow, he handed her the flowers with a twirl of his wrist. "Thank you..." He was good; she was speechless. "You look beautiful this evening. May I escort you to dinner? Or would you like me to come in?" He had not stopped grinning. Madeline could not tell if he was generally this nice, or smiling at his own over-the-top actions. She smiled at the ham; her husband had been that way. "Oh, Manny... stop," she said, waving a hand at him for her near flustered and smelling the flowers. "Let's just go, good lookin'... I'm starving." "Well, then allow me," Emanuel held out an arm for her own, and held hers the entire stroll while it was tucked under his; all the way until he opened the car door for his date. Madeline brought the flowers. *** "Dos Tequilas y dos cervezas, por favor, Roberto," he said as he held up two fingers to the waiter dropping menus on the table next to her gift of vegetation. Emanuel was not of Spanish or Latin descent, but his accent would have made the average English speaking person think twice. The waiter nodded, drooled over Madeline in her dark red dress, and went to fetch their drinks. "You speak Spanish? My-my, aren't you just the mystery..." Madeline noticed he waited to pick up his menu until she had grabbed her own. She had thought him a plain working man; she was confused now that he sat in his button down white shirt, cuffs undone, and a black t-shirt underneath. He was lounging back in his seat, leg out, to past her side of the table. Emanuel just sort of hunkered down and used the chair for all it was worth. "Hablo poquito, uh, wait, sorry. Hablo un poco, pero no mucho. Mis amigo enseñado me mucho." He said to her smiling and laughing once or twice at her confusion to the foreign language. "Just a little bit, but not a lot. Picked it up from the fellow who works for me. His parents own this restaurant." Emanuel kicked a thumb in no particular direction. "Oh, ok, that answers the question 'How did you find out about this place?' then." Madeline was enjoying his aire, having fun; he was forcing himself to stare at her eyes and face, forcefully ignoring the stacked cleavage and bare shoulder visible from the short, strapped dress. She had gone all out, a decision made after an hour long and unsatisfying session with her plastic love. "What exactly is it you do, Manny? Like construction, right?" "Well, yeah, not remodeling or anything like that, industrial repair, mostly. I own my own company. Basically permit and confined spaces work, a nice way of saying 'Stupid, dangerous, and well paying job.' " He used quotation finger marks. "Wow, that is actually interesting," she really thought it was. "How does a young man like yourself end up owning a business like that?" Madeline noticed Emanuel paused until the waiter had finished setting down their drinks before continuing to answer. "Gracias, Roberto... By never missing an opportunity, same reason I asked you out. My boss was retiring, and he was selling the business, so rather than worry if I would have a job, I went to the bank and got a loan. That was.. uh..." he was counting on the table, "five, yeah... Five years ago." He took a sip of his shot of Tequila, and a sip of his beer, then continued. "So I noticed your last name on your card, are you a partner in that firm or something?" "I am, actually." Madeline was surprised he reasoned it out, she thought he would simply be young and dumb and ready to run. "I was partnered a year before my divorce, about five or so years ago, as well. I have no idea what to order, this all looks so great..." Madeline was trying to avert the attention from the word she had just dropped, unintentionally and totally against her lawyer's training. "You like spicy right? Not crazy spicy, but tasty?" Madeline nodded 'yes' to him, with an "um-hm" thrown in. "Right, I have this, trust me, ok?" Emanuel waited for her answer. "Ok..." Madeline had never let a man order for her, but since she had already been surprised this evening, she went along. His whistle was loud enough to temporarily drown out the single Mariachi guitar player on the chair in the corner of the room. Still locked with Madeline's eyes, Emanuel moved his head to the side with his shoulders in a lean, speaking at the exact moment the waiter, whom he could not see, turned their way. "Dos especiales, por favor," he was holding up two fingers again, meant for the nodding waiter still out of his vision. Madeline could only be impressed at how he owned his nearby surroundings. He took another sip of his Tequila, in unison with her, followed by a sip of his beer. He said nothing else, he was waiting, and it was forcing Madeline to speak, against her lawyer's training. "Ok, cshit... look. Aren't you going to ask me how old I am, or about my divorce, or if I have kids? You're acting like this is just a normal date... I..." She was confused, and turning slightly red to match the dress. He let out a 'mmm' sound under his breath as the skin of her breast heated and changed color. "Aren't you going to ask me?" Emanuel was smiling at her. Somehow, he was absorbing her presence as he used the returning question of a lawyer's trick. He was good, sharp enough, and fast enough to take her aback. "I dn'think there is any sense in asking those questions, the answers wouldn't matter regardless, I would still want to be here, with you, right now. I'll find out eventually, as I do intend to ask you out again, Miss Madeline Morrison. You are too beautiful a chance to pass up." It was left at that on his summation. Emanuel really was a gentleman, and the conversations and spicy food continued casually from that point on, despite her lawyer's training. *** By the time the waiter had dropped the check on the table, and said "Gracias, Señor Aguas," Emanuel had already dropped a single bill on top of the paper. He was not bragging, or showing off, just paying quickly so the waiter could finish other things. The tip left was hefty, as always. "De nada, y gracias, Roberto, todos fue maravilloso, hablas 'hola' a tu padre para mi. Sí...?" Emanuel's Spanish was ill, but it worked for the waiter, he understood SSL. "Yalotienes, Manny. Adios y... bien noche." The waiter left after another drool at the Tequila warmed cleavage, but it was staring at Emanuel. "Well aren't you just a smooth one," Madeline was quite impressed with the boy she had snagged for the evening. He was his own person here as well as the real world; his parents being a lawyer and a judge, yet he chose to pursue his own career instead of milking their connections. This was a young man. "Thanks, I try. Sometimes I backfire, but I'm glad you are impressed." "Oh, I am," rhythm was suddenly infecting her, perhaps as much as the two beers and two Tequilas she had imbibed to his singles. A second guitarist had begun to play. "I did always love the Latin music, always makes me want to dance." She wasn't asking, she was stating, and watching the players. "I'll give it a shot. I'm not much of a dancer, but I'll try for you." The dance floor was small and quaint, but fit the atmosphere of the small building well. There was an older retired Spanish couple already at it, and there were only a few other tables full this evening for dinner, as it was still early for most lovers. Before Madeline could answer, Emanuel was already standing, holding out a hand to her. "Such a gentleman," she said, taking his hand and letting herself be led to the dance floor. He nodded to the musicians as the two moved together. They slowed the tune, sending the dancers into embrace. The older woman, dancing with her husband, smiled at the pair, both younger in her eyes, and clearly going to be in love. The older man, dancing with his wife, could barely keep his eyes from Madeline's form, and legs, or the expanse of back visible through the small dress. Madeline and Emanuel danced for a few songs, softly carrying on various conversations at various times, more often than not watching the eyes of their partner. Occasionally Manuel would spin her, occasionally Madeline with twirl or move her hips in seduction. They danced well - better than he had implied - well enough to cause other couples to hold hands at their tables, purely for the sight of compatibility. Some of the married women thought to cut in, or thought of their husbands with long hair, but mostly they were jealous of the woman in the red dress and her dancing partner - the kid who looked young enough to be her son. "You know they are watching us," Madeline whispered to Emanuel. "Who is?" He had forgotten they were not alone in the room. Her self invaded all of his senses beyond any other comprehension. He was more than hard, and more than pressing into her. "...everybody here..." She was trailing off, feeling his lust pressing through her dress, moistening her own. "Let them, they should be jealous of a woman like you. I would be jealous of anyone with you. Heck, I'm still jealous at the chair you were sitting on." Emanuel was whispering into her ear, for Madeline alone, no one else could have heard it, even if they were close. The laugh that rang out from her thrown back head brightened the room at all directions. "Why don't we take this back to my place, and continue this over a few drinks...? It will be less embarrassing for you and what you have pressing into me." Emanuel was turning her on, her voice suddenly a husky whisper, and he was built better than she had assumed, his cover-alls did not do him justice, nor did her imagination. Dancing, and the feels she had copped, had only proven her more incorrect. Madeline had decided to sleep with him if she could, everything was ready for it, just in case. It was time, regardless of her lawyer's training or the three date rule. Madeline's body was in charge now. "Ladies first, but you have to promise to see me for dinner again," he said in a normal voice, holding out his hand to lead the way to the coat-check. "Just dinner, handsome?" Madeline was smiling as she almost ran ahead of him, to the safety of her favorite warm and fuzzy coat. She could touch herself, out of view, once she had it on. A few of the women turned and threw angry stares at their eating husbands as the picturesque couple left arm-in-arm. *** "This is a great looking house you have," Emanuel was speaking as he hung his coat on the hook by the door, and while Madeline hung hers in the closet. They had bolted to the house from his car; it had gotten colder, cold enough that they were still sniffling even though they were inside. "Thanks, you really like it? I had it re-decorated after my husband left. He never liked these styles to begin with, but they're my favorite." "I really do... he was tasteless." Emanuel was looking at as much as he could, all at once, and he spoke with no malice. The woodwork throughout was unfinished wood, with retro furniture and new, trendy colors on the wall. It had a cumulative effect, making it look perfect. "Oh, and you have a fireplace, very nice. Mind if I start it up?" Emanuel had made his way to the sunken living room at the back of the house. "Go for it, I was planning to anyway. Would you like something to drink?" Madeline locked the front door, watching him turn his head at the click, and made her way towards the dining room bar. "What do you have?" "Everything, really..." "That you do, that you do... but I'll just take a Brandy, for now." "Brandy, huh? Should I be jealous of her?" Madeline made the joke as she grabbed the bottle and glasses, knowing full well what he was asking; the mood of her pace and of her speech creating a court room fantasy role-play. She poured the same, and an equal amount, for herself in the second glass -- only a few fingers. "You should not be jealous of anything, with a mind like yours, and a body like that," Emanuel was pointing at her as he took the glass, the want in his eyes unrestrained. "You sure know how to make an old lady feel special. Have you had a lot of practice, you know, wining and dining the masses?" It was the only question Madeline had not asked of him. Good lawyers save the pertinent for last. She made her way to the couch, turning on the stereo with the remote from the end-table, and began to watch him start two fires. "Ha, the masses... You're the first date I've had in.. hmm, like two years. Truthfully, I'm quite pleased we get along so well. I don't think I could have taken being rejected by you." Both fires had been kindled; they were burning on their own now. "Plus, you're not old..." "I'm glad you think so. I didn't think it would work so well, not with our age difference, not to mention my loss of social skills..." Madeline was not concentrating on the conversation anymore. She only watched his stretched khakis over his ass while he started the fires. She only watched it more when he stood to his full height, and place the guard over the fireplace. Emanuel caught her open mouth as he turned to join her on the couch. More than her mouth, he was ogling her fit legs and tight breasts, both equally wrapped in her fitting dress. "Age difference? I think that dress has more to do with it than anything, or you constantly staring at my butt. You look fantastic, you have since the first time I saw you. Not to mention you've been nothing but sweet and kind. Your husband was a fool." He sat upon the couch, touching her and sipping his drink in time with Madeline as he finished speaking. Madeline set her drink upon the table. Tears were welling, she had forgotten company, and she had forgotten romance. Emanuel played the repairman perfectly, also setting his drink upon the table. They both knew what was coming, and they didn't fight it, despite her lawyer's training. Just as the heat of one fire touched her exposed skin, Madeline leaned into Emanuel for a long and lengthy tongue kiss. She pushed him towards the arm of the couch, hand on his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her back. Slowly he slid a hand to one of her taut cheeks. When he moved the other to echo, and squeezed with the palms. Madeline broke the kiss and moaned, flooding her panties with fluids. "I want you to... to make love to me, here, tonight, right in front of the fire... now." She had the look of a woman possessed as she spoke, nothing but sex in her eyes. Madeline never, ever, spoke this way; his kiss was her best. Emanuel watched her for a long moment before he placed one hand on the back of her head, pulling her into a return of the kiss. When their lips met, the hand on her head moved and slowly unbound the zipper of her hugged fabric, unclasping the bra beneath shortly after. Her generous breasts began to spill over the front of her dress as they were no longer held back. They squished and plumped between the two bodies, the writhing only setting the wonders more free and towards release. Emanuel never slid her dress off; he simply palmed the rise over the surface of the material, squeezing lightly in time with the hand on her bum. The kiss lasted many minutes before Madeline climaxed, forcefully breaking the unison and sitting up, grinding her shivering self into his lap. Her eyes were closed, and she was moaning while pulling in her breath, bottom lip embraced between her teeth. Plastic was no substitute for flesh; plastic held no life. Emanuel spoke as she opened her eyes. "Let's go over to the rug, I want to see your beauty. I want to taste more of you." Madeline grinned, mimicking the Cheshire, and slammed down the contents of her Brandy glass while on his lap. Just as quickly, she made her way to stand in front of the fire, kicking her shoes off at the couch. She began a striptease with flames as a frame, possessed by three heats. Emanuel grabbed his drink, similarly slamming it, but purely at the site before him. He hoped he was ready for what she was offering. He was surely not when the dress fell from her shoulders and to the floor, her brassiere following after. Her chest barely sagged, and he could imagine what the pair looked like twenty years ago. They sagged purely from weight, as the damages of age were barely noticeable compared to others he had seen on younger women. If anything, the sag made them look glorious. His stare spurned Madeline on as she slid her hands up her tight sides, along her snug belly, and to her massive breasts, twisting her large, long, and proud pink nipples on arrival. "Do you like them?" "They can't be real..." Emanuel said under his breath, stunned and hard to mirror steel. She had sworn at her ex-husband for the gym, now she wordlessly thanked him for the parting gift. Madeline could only laugh at the young man, he had a look on his face similar to her husbands the first time he had seen her nudity in her youth. "Oh they are little boy..." she said huskily as one of her hands slid down to touch herself over the high cut black panties. "Little boy, eh?" Emanuel was standing now, taking his shirt off in the same motion as he kicked off his shoes. Madeline ate her words as she pressed one finger, with fabric, into the folds of her wetness. He was cut from stone, angles and edges she had never seen covered his perfect male body. He had a large tattoo in the center of his chest; it read "FRONT" in square black block lettering. "Oh, I am sorry... You are all man, aren't you?" Her words were oozing. "...and I don't even work out.. genetics.. go figure?" Emanuel answered her question, with a question yet again, while palming her ass and a breast as they moved into a standing kiss before at least one kind of flame. Her hands began to claw at his back and belt as he slowly lowered her to the plush floor, on the carpet in shadow of the stone base of the fireplace. Madeline knew he was packing, and it was all she could think about, that is, until she felt her panties sliding down her legs. By the time she knew what was happening, he was alternately flicking her nipples with his tongue, or sucking in as much breast flesh as he could. He had a finger in her folds by the time her panties caught on one of her ankles. They would stay there for the duration. One of his hanging bangs had come loose from his ear, and it was tickling behind his kisses as he trailed to her mound. He was going to lick her, something her husband had never done in all the years of their marriage, and something she only ever fantasized about. It was better than fantasy, and Emanuel was a professional at it. She was in orgasm for the second time before she knew what was happening. He worked a finger in time with his lips, and when he went to town on her clit, she came steadily until he finished drinking her fluids a few minutes later. How That Douchebag Got That Bitch Madeline had gone mute from pleasure, only scrunching her eyes and arching her back at him while she tortured her own breasts in a silent scream. Emanuel had never seen such a thing, and he almost came himself from watching her writhe, but steadily he continued on. It was a sight unlike any other he had witnessed from the women that were his peers, he wanted to see more. Madeline was absorbing all the sensations he and her body could give, and nothing else. He continued, not moving at all frantic as she peaked the mutli. She was taking what she wanted, and she wanted his ministrations. She did not direct him, or show him, she was simply took what he offered, now slowly coming down. Emanuel watched her revel in pleasure as he sat back on his bare feet, pants still unbuttoned and unbuckled. Madeline might have broken his jaw, and he was stretching it to be safe. She was constantly teasing her breasts to a small mewing sound, as her legs clamped together without his head as space; the pair of her knees moved to and fro. He had never seen a woman so pleased with his work. Finally, she opened her eyes and spoke, looking directly into his soul. "Oh Manny, that was wonderful... Do you think... mm.... Do you think I could return the favor?" She looked strangely timid, virginal, as she asked him. "You mean, you want to suck my cock? Is that what you are asking me, Madeline?" One of his eyebrows was up; he could swear she was asking the question for the first time in her life. "...suck your cock... absolutely, yes. I want to suck your big fat cock." She licked her lips and bared teeth after she spoke, enjoying the words. Slowly she moved up and pushed him onto his back, pulling his pants and boxers off in one motion. His hard prick flew to attention, nearly hitting her in the face. "Oh you are a big man. I knew you would be...." She reached out and clasped the base with one hand, before looking him the eye again. Her other hand could not be seen; Emanuel guessed she was rubbing herself by the sly motion of her shoulder. "You've never done this before, have you, gorgeous?" He knew it was best to ask, she seemed nervous but franticly sexual. Madeline shook her head 'no' before she spoke. "My ex said it was dirty, so, go easy on me, ok?" Madeline did not wait for an answer, as her lips stretched to engulf his tip and a short part of the shaft. He could feel her tongue going to work, though her head remained still. He saw her shoulder moving with fury behind the cascaded blonde locks, genuinely natural blonde: He could taste it. "Mmmm..." the humming sound she made without intention traveled through all of his nerves as she finally began to slide, bit by bit, the majority of his member into her mouth. Slowly she moved back up when he felt the tickle of her throat. For a first time, she might have well have been a professional cocksucker. "Oh god, you are great at that, Maddy, your husband was a.... Uhhh, don't you ever stop..." Her new technique was enough to have him on edge already, as her hand moved in opposite rotations from her mouth, in unison with her tongue. It was easily the best blow-job of his life, and he knew it could only get better from there. She must have practiced on something, and he thanked her silently for her lawyer's training; he never felt teeth. "Madeline, I'm going to cum soon. I want to cum in your mouth. I want you to swallow my cum, gorgeous. I want you to swallow it all..." He only had moments left, he hoped she was ready. She was ready, the almost inaudible, but totally physical 'uh-huh' sound she vibrated set him off. He came as hard as he ever had, pleasure twisting his face as a hand slipped to the back of her head. He need not have held her in place; she was not moving anywhere as she swallowed his nectar, not losing a drop. She would be doing this again, especially since she had rubbed herself to climax as he let loose in her mouth. She would not remember her ex-husbands name for a long time, many, many hours later. She leaned back to sit on her feet, similar to the way he had, as she watched him pant and breath deep on his back. She was on fire, and not from only one heat. She could not help but keep touching herself at the sight of his body and potential - soon to be - pleasures. Separating her knees, she began to rub herself once again in time with a twisting nipple, occasionally plunging a finger, or two, into her folds and spreading her juices. When he opened his eyes to the sight before him, his manhood leapt at his waist, twitching in time with his heart rate and fully recovered from his orgasm. "Do you want me to make love to you now, Madeline? I think you do." She nodded 'yes' slowly in return, her eyes half closed, the rubbing of herself almost furious. She lay on her back slowly, propping herself onto her elbows as he moved over top of her. "Say it, tell me..." Emanuel was watching only her face. "I... I want you to put... I want you to make love to me. I want to fuck you." He smiled at her in return, a look to say 'I just found what I've been looking for' all across his expression. "Go slow, please, it's been a while, and you are.. huge..." She said to him as she reached up and let loose his hair. As it spilled around his face, he tucked one side behind one ear, grasping his shaft soon after. Slowly he lined up, and rubbed himself against her fluids. "Do you have protection, gorgeous, or...?" Emanuel was waiting for an answer, he really was a gentleman. "Don't worry about it, we're ok, just put that... put that cock in me..." she had a devilish grin as she stared at his rod, now appearing to gleam with her wetness. She had never used such dirty words, it turned her on. She felt like she was breaking rules, despite her lawyer's training. A gentleman he was, as he slid his entire length into her at a steady pace and then held himself as deep as he could, watching her react, waiting for her to adjust. Madeline climaxed, not an earth shattering orgasm like before, but she was, nonetheless, from his deeply buried and snug fitting manhood. "Ooh Manny.. Oh it feels so good.. forgot..." She had intended to finish speaking, but his sudden movement took the words from her. He began a slow, even pace in and out while she gleaned what sensations she could through her lust. She was coming, again, from the moment his mouth went to her breasts and on. Her orgasms became constant, never ending as he thrust in a perfect, silently agreed tempo. Occasionally, outside of her own control, her hips would thrust up to meet his, almost slamming into him from time to time. At the moment her hips began to collide with his on every thrust, when she could almost take no more, he pulled out and away from her. Madeline's eyes shot open, and she almost screamed "what the fuck," until he beat her to it. "Get on your hands and knees Maddy, I want to look at your perfect ass as I fuck you." He wanted to do it doggy-style, something she had always loved and seldom obtained. She did not answer, she just moved in command, swaying her backside left to right as she crawled backwards towards him, rump in the air. What a sight it was, better than any nude model he had seen in photos, better than any real life comparison. He gave a cheek a firm smack with the back of one hand as she swayed towards. She yelped in response and surprise at the action, followed by an "ooo, such a bad little boy" shortly after. Madeline pushed into his erection, with little care where it landed; this man could have all of her, and anything he wanted as long as he gave her pleasure. Emanuel nearly lost his load as his wet tip prodded her slick puckered opening for a moment, almost sucking it in on its own power. He moved his hips back at the sensation, only to return to her soaked womanhood engulfing him in. "Oh god yes, that'll work too... if... if you want to be dirty. Are you a dirty boy, Manny? Do you want to fuck.... fuck my ass?" His skill with passion was only spurning her on to another, guaranteed Earth shattering, multi orgasm finish. "Oh, I will, Madeline... I will, but first I'm going to fill this perfect pussy up. Do you want that? Do you want me to fill up your pussy?" Madeline fell off her hands, and onto her face, as she lost control from his dirty words. Absently a finger went to clit and another to a nipple as he continued to thrust, his movements finally becoming erratic - as the carpet caressing her face implied. "Oh god, yes, fill up my... my pussy, Manny... Show me what kind of man you are." That was what it took for the gentleman to release and for the animal to take over. He slammed into her three more times before sinking to the hilt, his hands clamping to her hips long ago. He was yelling her name, as she yelled his, both of their orgasms reaching crescendo. Emanuel collapsed forward, panting for breath against her back while still moving inside her and nibbling at her neck and shoulders. Madeline almost passed out from the lack of blood in her brain, panting twice as hard, and for twice as long. Eventually, Emanuel pulled out, patiently, with a full-on shiver, and lay on her side farthest from the fireplace. He was still hard and unhurriedly stroking himself, watching her pant. Her rear was still high in the air for a long moment, before she settled down, face turned to look at him from her position on her belly. "Boy... can you... You sure can fuck. Where have you been all my life?" Madeleine was going to trash her plastic lover in the morning; its work had apparently been sub par for years. "I was waiting for you to buy some coffee, plus I'm too young for you anyway..." His smile was ear to ear as the two lay in the warmth of the fire, and each other, laughing, but not for long.