Cinderella
Copyright 2008-2010 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults only. [email protected]
Cinderella - Book Three
by T.S. Severe
Chapter Eighteen
"Are you sure this dress is okay?" I asked Sofia, frowning at the evening gown I half-decided on.
It was a nice Joni Stur original and I'd worn it to the Chanel Nous Appartient, a designer show held during the Paris Quartier d'Eté. The full length dress was beautiful with a high neckline and completely bare in the back, but it was green and I'd already worn my Givenchy suit that day.
"The man's going to think all I have are green clothes," I pouted before my assistant could answer. She rolled her green eyes, which hardly made me feel better.
"You're stunning," Sofia told me. "I'd sell my soul to look like you for six minutes and all you can do is worry about your dress?"
"See?" I giggled. "I have to worry about my dress because the rest of me is so perfect, right?"
"Shut-up!" She laughed with me and for just that moment I felt Evelyn so close I could almost touch her.
I wasn't any different from any other woman, not really. I mean, obviously there were some differences. The secret between my legs, but that hardly counted in anything but the most basic, physical sense. Intellectually and emotionally I was completely female a year and half after waking up as Cindy, and supermodel or not, I worried over the same silly things any woman would. Being beautiful and famous wasn't a ticket to perfection or happiness, or anything else people imagined it to be.
But it didn't hurt either, I had to admit, and chances were that nobody was going to care if I wore two green outfits in the same day…except for me.
"I should have worn my blue dress," I decided, but then I looked at Sofia and she was wearing blue. "Or red," I sighed.
My assistant wore a seriously cute two piece outfit. The skirt was royal blue with little white polka dots, pleated and straight out of Christian Dior's Rome boutique. The blouse was white and a little too frilly maybe, with a lace collar and cuffs, but it was worn well on Sofia's petite body. It was a good look for her, modest and charming and she had her own style, which was nice.
"Will you relax?" Sofia said. "What's going on anyway? You act like you're going on a first date or something."
"I am?" I frowned at that, but she was right.
"That banker must have made quite an impression," she said with a smile.
"What? No!"
"You have a thing for older guys?" she teased me. "I never knew."
"Sofia!" I made a face.
"You should have asked Carlisle what his favorite color is," she told me, just rubbing it in, and I guess it was sorta obvious. Sofia knew me too well.
"I just want to make a good impression on Mr. Dearborn."
"You liar!" She laughed. "He has no idea what you wore this afternoon."
"Huh? Oh…" I frowned and I hated getting caught by something stupid like that. I looked out the tinted window of the limousine in a vain attempt to hide my guilt.
"Hey," she said, reaching for my thigh and stroking it beneath my emerald dress. "It's okay to like old guys. Everyone's doing it."
"Everyone's doing what?" I laughed at her, realizing she had something new to play with and Sofia wouldn't let it go for a year probably. God! She loved to tease me.
"Fucking old guys." She grinned at me. "I swear, it's the big thing now. They're experienced and patient, financially secure…You could do a lot worse."
"You're kidding me." I stared at her. "Right?"
"Yeah." Sofia wrinkled her nose and then giggled.
"God! I hate you sometimes!" I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my nipples harden against my dress. I put on a thong beneath it, but that's all.
"Are you sure you want to get there this early?" she asked, glancing at her watch and changing the subject. "We could have the driver go around the block a few times."
"No," I said. "I want to be early. I don't want this Dearborn guy waiting on me, okay? I'm not going to play the celebrity thing. This is important."
"Yeah," Sofia agreed. "I understand."
She really did too and my point was that I was used to showing up fashionably late, like it was expected of people like me. Lesser mortals had to wait for me and sometimes that was okay, depending on who it was, but not this time. We were getting to the restaurant half an hour early just to make the point that I considered Mr. Dearborn's time more valuable than mine. What he did, him and his organization, was a lot more important than being a mere fashion model.
"Cindy!" someone shouted, and there were other voices as well, and a half dozen flashbulbs as I got out of the car.
I'd been in New York for two full days and the paparazzi had caught up with me, finally and completely. All I could do was grin and bear it. I really only had two or three who stayed on me like glue, most of the others were just opportunists who'd heard that I was going out for an expensive dinner and dressed to kill. That drew a lot of attention just because they wanted to see who I was meeting, maybe get some good dirt on some actor cheating on his wife or whatever. It was all kind of silly, but that's the way it had to be, I guess.
"Hey!" I paused on the sidewalk, ignoring Sofia's curious look and the cautious attempts by the restaurant's doorman to get me inside.
"What are you doing?" Sofia asked me softly.
"Hey, guys? Look, I'm meeting a man named Vincent Dearborn, okay?" I looked at the photographers, who had actually calmed down a little, not expecting this.
"Who's he?" some guy asked.
"He's with Make-A-Wish. Have you heard of them?" I asked, getting a few nods. "So get some pictures now…Go ahead…And then give the guy a break later, okay?"
"Are you dumping Jaan?" someone asked me and I laughed.
"No. I'm not dumping my boyfriend," I said, striking a little pose and smiling for the cameras. "Jaan's in Hawaii and we're going to hook up in Japan at the end of the month."
"Show us some leg, Cindy!" a man suggested loudly, to the eager support of his peers.
"Yeah?" I grinned and pulled my dress slightly, enough to expose my right leg through the long slit in the material. "I'm being nice, so I want you guys to be nice too…Okay? If you're not, I'll…" I looked at Sofia.
"Get restraining orders?" Sofia offered with a little shrug, and she was just trying to be patient. Sometimes I could be a little weird.
"Yeah!" I giggled. "I'll get restraining orders and never be nice to you guys again."
"That's not going to work, you know." She grinned at me as we were seated at our table. "They're not going to be nice just because you are."
"Why not?" I asked her, but I knew she was right. "Has anyone ever tried it before?"
"Probably," Sofia shrugged and then she was looking at the wine list.
"I should date Sean Penn or something," I sighed.
Vincent Dearborn was an older man, in his forties and dressed nicely in a casual linen suit. He wasn't unattractive, but rather serious looking with narrow features and thinning blond hair. He seemed surprisingly comfortable as he joined us and I was soon to understand that part of his job was meeting celebrities, so dining with me wasn't exactly a unique experience for him. I was actually grateful for that. It made things a lot easier, believe me. Too much time was often wasted trying to assure someone that I was a real person and not a walking billboard.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Vincent said, looking between myself and Sofia with a warm smile.
"Thank you for coming," I smiled back at him. "I don't know how these things usually work, but…"
"Not like this." He chuckled as a waiter poured a glass of champagne for him.
"Oh?"
"What I mean is, we usually go through secretaries and assistants," he nodded towards Sofia. "Make arrangements over the phone. People like yourself can't usually afford much time, so…"
"I see," I said. "It must keep you awfully busy as well. Do you live in the city?"
We made small talk for several minutes, just getting to know each other, or getting to know Vincent, I should say. I wasn't much of a mystery, obviously. He turned out to be thirty-eight years old and divorced with kids, two teenage boys. He'd left a good career in advertising to take the Make-A-Wish job, which paid a lot less money, but afforded him a much improved opinion of himself.
"I sold dreams for fifteen years on Madison Avenue," Vincent said with a smile. "I just wanted to try making them come true for a change."
"Me too!" I nodded eagerly, thinking that was exactly how I felt about Angie. "Just once in my life I want to do something real."
"Well, I haven't told Angie anything yet, but…" Vincent was interrupted by the arrival of Baron Carlisle, who was right on time.
"Baron," I smiled at the man. "I'm so glad you could make it."
"Cindy. You look lovely," Baron said and the man was drinking me in. "My daughter is here with her husband, I hope you don't mind."
"Uh…Not at all," I said, blinking rapidly at that news and I suppose I must have looked kind of funny for a second there. Not because Belinda was there, I'd asked Baron to invite her, but because she had a husband. That was completely unexpected.
"Mr. Carlisle, may I introduce Vincent Dearborn?" Sofia covered for me with her usual grace. "He's the Regional Director for Make-A-Wish Foundation."
"Of course. A pleasure." Baron smiled at the man as Vincent rose from his seat to shake hands.
"Baron Carlisle is the President of First Providence Bank, here in Manhattan," Sofia continued politely and the two men exchanged pleasantries, but I was busy staring at my wife…My ex-wife, as she walked towards us with Mr. Roth in tow.
Belinda was just as attractive as I remembered her. Tall and blonde, with her expensive, perfect tits and long, tanned legs. She looked like a trophy wife from the neck down, dressed in a light dress of yellow and white, with a strand of pearls around her neck and new Rolex, I noticed. Her face, Belinda's eyes…They didn't belong on anyone's prize, however. She had a calculating stare, not so intense as Eva's perhaps, but it was cold all the same. How had I ever fallen for her?
With her arrival things suddenly made sense, or at least some of them. Roth was Baron's new sock puppet at the bank because he'd married Belinda. He hadn't just taken my place as the old man's whipping boy; he'd taken my place as Belinda's as well. I mean, it was obvious just looking at the man. Roth was following Belinda like a lost puppy, or so it seemed to me and I was probably being too hard on him, but still…Belinda had divorced me? When had that happened?
Silly as it sounds, I was a little pissed off and I didn't know why. Probably because I expected…I don't know. What did I expect? Robert had disappeared with all her jewelry and twelve million dollars from her Daddy's illegal bank accounts. Did I really expect her to wait around for me to come back? Did I think she'd be dressed in black, crying her eyes out every night before she went to her cold bed all alone? Belinda? Was I kidding?
No, it wasn't the idea that she'd divorced Robert in absentia that bothered me so much. It was the fact that she'd married this wimpy idiot Roth character. It was plain as day that the guy was completely whipped. Belinda was gorgeous! The second most beautiful woman in the room, a distant second I told myself with a small, but pleasant sense of pride. She'd spread her legs for the guy and promised him her love and loyalty, got him a good job at Daddy's bank, and he was hooked. I could see it in his eyes. Roth was whipped by the both of them, Belinda and her father, and…
I realized I was describing myself. Robert. That's what bothered me more than anything else. Looking at Roth was like looking at myself as I'd been two years before. Now I finally understood what everyone else had seen when they looked at Robert Patterson. I was flushed with humiliation and I really wanted to tell Belinda exactly who I was and how much happier my life had become the day I'd gotten away from her!
"It's so nice to meet you…Mrs. Roth is it?" I smiled into the woman's blue eyes and offered her my fingertips. "I met your husband earlier, but we weren't properly introduced." I shifted my gaze to Mr. Roth who was hiding behind his wife. "I'm Cindy and it's very nice to see you again, Mr. Roth."
I was purring, giving the man my sexiest voice, and lowering my eyes to the place here his crotch would be, if Belinda hadn't been between us
"Yeah, um…" Mr. Roth blinked at me, giving his wife a glance and I could see his cheeks turning pink. "Eric. You can call me Eric."
"And you can call me Cindy!" I giggled, ignoring Baron's small frown and it must have really annoyed him that I was flirting with his pet boy like that.
"Uh, perhaps we could all sit down?" Sofia offered gently, giving me a sidelong look. Like, what the hell was I doing?
"That's a pretty bracelet you have," Belinda said, letting go of my hand and she must have been a little confused as well.
Obviously she hadn't come to dinner expecting a cat fight and wanted to understand why I would be somewhat less than friendly. The emerald tennis bracelet had caught her eye though, as well it should. There weren't a lot of those running around and losing one like she had…
"Thank you." I smiled sweetly, sitting back in my seat with a wistful sigh. "An old boyfriend gave it to me. I love emeralds."
I'll give her credit, Belinda had never been stupid. A slut? Yeah. But not stupid and it was an interesting ten seconds watching her face run through a gamut of emotions as all the pieces slowly fell into place. Cindy. Old boyfriend. Emerald tennis bracelet. Yeah, she'd heard my purring voice before too, a long time ago and over the phone, but a woman wouldn't forget a thing like that. Not when it happened on the very day her husband disappeared. Belinda's eyes got real big for a second and then narrowed into dangerous slits of ice, and I just smiled back at her.
Unfortunately, or perhaps it really was a good thing, we had to behave ourselves. Vincent had no idea what was going on and he was my guest. He certainly didn't deserve anything but my good attention and so I forced myself to ignore the unexpected resentment I felt for Belinda. She could sit there and stew for awhile, I decided; that would be the best insult of all probably. Treating the woman like she didn't mean a thing while I engaged Mr. Dearborn and Baron Carlisle in the most charming conversation I could. That wasn't very difficult at all, men being men like they are.
"No, our overhead is very small," Vincent said, answering a question for Baron. "What you have to look at with any charity is the percentage allocated to administration. For some groups it can be as high as forty or even fifty percent."
Baron sat between myself and Vincent, which worked out nicely as I had an excuse to lean into the old banker.
"You mean half the donations are used for…What? Paperwork?" I wondered, putting my left hand on Carlisle's thigh and finding his arm with my breast accidentally.
"Something like that," Vincent said. "Salaries, advertising, facilities…"
"What's your percentage?" Baron wondered, glancing down at my hand.
"Make-A-Wish runs at about twenty-two percent," the man answered. "We're fortunate in that our organizational requirements are small and we rely primarily on donations of time and services, rather than funds."
Mr. Dearborn went on to explain how his Foundation wasn't a research charity. Make-A-Wish wasn't looking for a cure or trying to provide any kind of medical service. They worked in partnership with celebrities and other organizations to make one dying child's dream come true. Getting me, for example, was costing Mr. Dearborn very little real money. I donated my time, paying out of my own pocket for any expenses, and that's how the Foundation was designed to operate. They needed some money, of course, but beyond that they relied heavily on non-monetary donations of time and effort.
On the other side of the table, Sofia conversed with Belinda and her husband, being polite and trying to salvage my reputation with them, as if I cared. I caught little snippets, mostly idle chat about Connecticut, where Sofia's family lived and where I'd once lived in the house Belinda now shared with Mr. Roth. His first name was Eric, as he'd mentioned, and I stole glances at the pair every now and again, just to make sure Belinda caught me flirting with her daddy under the table.
"Uhhh hmmm…" Baron stiffened slightly, clearing his throat and nodding as I slid my hand higher.
"Have some more champagne, Baron," I suggested with a soft giggle. "You seem a little…tense."
"Right, uh…" He swallowed thickly and I found the lump of his cock through his trousers, a very large one by the feel of it, and growing harder by the second.
It was a fun game, actually and my attraction for Baron hadn't diminished, but I felt a certain revulsion, too. He'd treated me poorly in my previous life and I hadn't forgotten that, or Evelyn. The conflict I felt inside was a little confusing, but I did well to rationalize it. Seducing Belinda's father, putting the man under my thumb if I could, that would go a long ways towards making up for the abuses Robert had suffered. It would be more than a little enjoyable too, both physically and emotionally. I had serious plans for gloating later, telling my bitch of an ex-wife exactly how nice it was to ride her daddy's fat cock.
Baron was doing his part soon enough. The man's right hand drifted under the table while we spoke with Vincent and I offered him a barely audible sigh when I felt his strong fingers caressing my bare thigh. I'd crossed my legs high, arranging my dress so that the slit material fell on either side of my right leg. My less than female charms were well hidden that way and Baron had easy access to my soft, warm flesh. The touch of his fingers was pleasant; he was very gentle and my heart beat faster as I squeezed the vague shape of his erection.
"So, Belinda…" I smiled across the table at her. "How long have you and Eric been married?"
"Not long," she said, smiling at her husband and taking his hand. "Eric swept me off my feet at Daddy's New Year's Eve party."
"Really? That sounds romantic," Sofia said quickly, perhaps worried I was going to say something catty, like…
"I'll bet that wasn't too hard," I giggled, giving Eric a wink.
"Excuse me?" Belinda frowned and Baron stirred beside me, so I gave his cock another squeeze to settle him down.
"Oh. I just mean, a New Year's party, well…" I shrugged playfully. "We all know how those can get!"
"Ah!" Baron chuckled and cleared his throat. "I'm afraid my parties are probably a little tame compared to what you're used to, Cindy."
"Well, you certainly make a lovely couple," Vincent offered, being the much-too-nice sort of person he was, and Sofia gave him a grateful smile.
"Are you guys planning a family?" I wondered. "Poor Baron must be wondering who he's going to leave his bank to."
"Cindy…" Sofia warned me, trying to hide it with a worried smile.
"Actually, yes. We're working hard on that," Belinda looked at Eric. "Aren't we, dear?"
"Uh, oh…Yes," the man nodded. "Every, uh…Chance we get."
"Well good for you," I said. "I tried marriage once and it was a disaster!"
"You were married?" Baron asked me.
"It's kind of a secret," I said, wrinkling my nose. "I got an annulment after I found out he was cheating on me."
"Oh." Carlisle nodded slowly.
"I'm sure you don't have to worry about that, do you?" I asked Belinda.
"Not anymore." She laughed lightly. "Not since my first husband ran off with some slut…Oh! Excuse me…" She gave Vincent an apologetic smile. "He wasn't a very good husband, I'm afraid."
"That's, um…quite alright." Mr. Dearborn reached for his wine. "I'm divorced, too."
"He ran off with another woman?" I looked innocently at Belinda. "Ouch! That must have been painful. Was she a friend of yours?"
"A friend?" The woman laughed. "Hardly. I never met her, but I did get a good description from our maid."
"Really?" I nodded seriously. "What did she look like? Was she terribly beautiful?" Like me, I implied.
"Cindy!" Sofia was starting to get a little angry and I wasn't quite sure my blonde assistant had figured out that this woman was my ex-wife.
"All I know…" Belinda said, lowering her voice and leaning across the table.
"Hmmm?" I was leaning across the table too and I could smell my perfume on her.
"…was that she was tall, dark, and dripping cum all over my bedroom floor," Belinda said softly and her eyes were fixed on mine. "Sound familiar?"
"Maybe you should have been home," I whispered back. "Instead of fucking your Bad Daddy."
"What?" Belinda sat back up quickly, blinking at me and her face had gone from pink to pale in a heartbeat. She obviously thought her affair with Clyde Jefferson was a secret and I wondered if she was still seeing the man.
"Are we ready to order dinner?" I looked around, trying to appear apologetic beneath Sofia's frown. "I'm starving!"
We ordered dinner, but only for the four of us. Belinda and her husband were making hurried excuses, pleading another engagement. I smiled at her as Baron and Vincent rose from their seats, all of us exchanging pleasant goodbyes with the couple. It had been fun teasing the woman, watching my beautiful ex-wife come to terms with the fact that her cuckolded wimp husband Robert had been getting his dick wet in a supermodel's pussy…Even if he hadn't. I bet she was fuming inside and the best part was that she still had no idea where Robert had run off to!
"Cindy, it was so nice to meet you," Belinda told me with a crooked smile. "I hope we can get together again sometime."
"I'm looking forward to it," I replied with a little kissy purse of my lips. "Do you have Sofia's number? Just give her a call when you're free. We can do lunch."
"Absolutely," Belinda breathed and then looked coldly at her father. "Don't stay out too late, Daddy."
"Goodnight, Belinda," the man said with a good natured chuckle, but it sounded forced to me. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, Eric."
"Yes sir," Mr. Roth agreed with a submissive nod. I really wasn't liking him, just because I didn't want to believe I'd ever been that passive. I should have felt sympathy for the man, probably.
"Don't worry," I purred, unable to help myself. "I'll make sure Daddy gets to bed safe and sound, Belinda."
That bit of over-the-top innuendo didn't go over anyone's head and there was a moment of awkward silence before Belinda gave her husband's arm a sharp tug.
"Oops!" I shrugged with a deep breath. "Did that come out wrong?"
Life was good, although I'd embarrassed Mr. Dearborn, confused Baron Carlisle, and pissed off Sofia. I had to be extra nice for the rest of the evening if I wasn't going to get grounded or something. Sofia could do it, believe me. A couple phone calls and I'd find my ass working twelve hour days, non-stop for a week!
"Maybe I should explain to Vincent what we want to do for Angie," Sofia suggested, giving me a dirty look and I tried to seem contrite as we all struggled to make ourselves comfortable again.
I was better behaved for the rest of our dinner, or at least I appeared to be, now that Belinda was gone. I did keep my hand in Baron's lap for most of the meal, just as he continued to enjoy lightly stroking my skin with his fingertips. It was very casual, very intimate actually, and I liked it. Perhaps Sofia could tell that something was going on, but I was reasonably sure Vincent was in the dark. He was preoccupied anyway, focused on Sofia as my assistant explained all the arrangements we were making for our visit with Angie.
"So the eleventh is our best day," Sofia finished. "If that's good for you and Angie, then…"
"It's perfect." Mr. Dearborn was smiling. "This is really going to be something. Do you really think you can get her on the cover?"
"I'm going to call Frannie Kahler tomorrow," I said, glancing at Sofia for confirmation. "She's the editor-in-chief over there, we'll arrange something."
"Yeah, I've got your call set up for nine," Sofia agreed. "First thing in the morning."
"That would be…" Vincent just laughed. "That's incredible. I don't know how to say thank you for something like that."
"You don't have to," I told him seriously. "This is something we want to do. I'm just glad you called."
"Well, it's not done yet," Sofia reminded us. "But we're giving it our best shot."
"That's still wonderful. Thank you both," Vincent said, looking between us. "If it does work out. If Angie can really get on the cover, when will that be?"
"Ummm…" Sofia shrugged. "Probably February, when the March issue come out. There's about a four to six month lead time for magazines, from when they start planning an issue to getting it to the market."
"Hmmm…" Vincent's smile faltered slightly and he cleared his throat. "That's what I suspected," he said slowly and the man had worked in advertising, so it wasn't a surprise. He knew how things worked.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"It's just that Angie's prognosis isn't really great right now," Vincent said quietly. "Six months is probably…optimistic, in her case."
"You mean she doesn't have six months?" I narrowed my eyes and Vincent gave me an apologetic look, but it wasn't his fault.
"Uh…" Sofia frowned at that. "Then, we'll just have to explain that to Seventeen."
"Yeah. We have to get that December issue," I decided. "Like we wanted."
"I talked to them about that," Sofia told me. "They've already shot Jessica Alba and her baby for Christmas."
"It isn't at the printers yet though, is it?" I looked at Sofia. "We just have to change their minds."
"Which magazine is that for?" Baron asked me.
He'd been sitting quietly for the most part, content to listen and enjoy my fingers around his cock. The man had unzipped himself for me halfway through dinner and I had my left hand buried inside his boxers, feeling his penis long, thick and amazingly hard for a man his age. He was wet with precum and I was massaging his warm shaft gently, rather enjoying the perverse pleasure of jerking the man off in the middle of a five star restaurant. I hadn't realized an old banker like him could be so daring.
"Seventeen," Sofia answered him with a hopeful smile. "They don't happen to owe you money or anything, do they?"
"No. Nothing like that, I'm afraid," Baron chuckled. "But I do play a lot of golf with Ben McIntyre."
"McIntyre Publishing?" Sofia asked him, looking a little surprised and I had no idea who they were talking about.
"One and the same," Baron agreed. "I think Seventeen is one of his magazines."
"Yeah. It is," Sofia said and her smile was growing. "Would it be too much of a favor to ask if…"
"I'd love to give him a call," Baron said with a grin. "He owes me a favor or two anyway. I've bailed him out more than once, he won't forget that."
"That's a big favor," I offered Baron a husky whisper and a promising squeeze of his cock. "I'd love to repay it…" I leaned close, putting my lips to the man's ear, "…personally…tonight."
"I'd love to, uh…" Baron glanced at Sofia, who was talking with Vincent just then, but even so, he chose his words carefully, "…entertain you tonight, Cindy."
"No," I licked my lips. "I'm going to entertain you, I think. Mr. Dearborn…" I looked at the man. "Do you think I could impose on you?"
"Anything," he agreed eagerly. "What can I do for you?"
"Would you mind escorting Sofia back to the hotel?" I asked him politely. "Baron has invited me out for a tour of the city."
"Oh!" Mr. Dearborn nodded quickly, offering a smile at Sofia who was giving me a look like I was still gonna be in trouble later. "Certainly. I'd be happy to see you back to your hotel, Sofia."
"Thank you," my assistant said, turning her attention on Vincent and I was wiping Carlisle's precum off my fingers with a napkin.
"Let me take care of the bill…" Baron started saying, as he was doubtlessly raised that way.
"No way!" I laughed. "I invited you, remember? Sofia will take care of it. But if you brought your checkbook…"
"Checkbook? Oh! Of course," Baron nodded and he looked at Vincent. "I know you're not here to raise money, but if you'll allow me…"
Mr. Dearborn wasn't one to object to a check for twenty-five thousand dollars and Baron Carlisle was happy to impress me. I wondered if he always carried a checkbook with him, or if he'd brought especially because I'd teased him earlier. Either way, I was happy; it helped soothe Sofia after my earlier juvenile behavior.
"I'll have my secretary send you a receipt," Vincent was saying, but I was busy saying goodbye to Sofia.
"Where are you going?" she asked me and I shrugged.
"Straight to bed, probably," I giggled into her ear. "Invite Vincent up for a drink."
"What?" Sofia looked shocked and I rolled my eyes. She was such a fibber sometimes. I knew she was interested; they were too much alike not to be, but true to form she wasn't willing to give the man a chance.
"He's sweet," I told her. "You deserve a nice guy. Have some fun and I'll see you in the morning."
"Don't forget," Sofia told me. "We're on with Frannie for nine."
"I won't forget," I promised and then we were all wishing each other goodnight.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"We'll be an item by the end of the week," I said with a soft giggle once we were inside the back of Baron's silver Rolls.
"Is it always like that?" the man wondered, turning his face away from one last flashbulb. The photographer had his camera pressed against the glass. "If that son of a bitch scratches my car…"
"Pretty annoying, huh?" I sighed. "I should have warned you."
"Where to, Mr. Carlisle?" his driver asked, a young woman dressed smartly in a chauffeur's uniform. She was new; the driver I remembered had been a middle-aged black man.
"The penthouse, Sherry." Mr. Carlisle pushed a button to raise the partition. The Shadow was a nice car, very nice, but not quite as roomy as a limo and I took advantage of it.
"Oh…" I leaned into the man, pressing my back against his body and pulling Baron's left arm around my tummy. "A penthouse, huh?"
"I keep it for emergencies," Baron said with a chuckle, looking down at me as I tilted my head upward. "You should have warned me about dinner."
"Dinner?" I asked innocently. "What do you mean?"
"The game you were playing with Belinda," Baron said slowly. "What was that about?"
"Was I that bad?" I pouted with a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just…I get like that sometimes. I don't like being threatened."
"Threatened?" Baron chuckled.
"You know," I sighed. "She's your daughter and I just wanted you all to myself."
"Well, uh…I don't think you have to worry about…"
"I know." I smiled at him. "I don't know why I get so jealous. It's terrible. I'm sorry. But now that I have you alone…"
I moved my face closer to his, turning slightly and looking into his eyes. Baron had both hands on me and I turned a little more, and then completely so that I was kneeling on the leather seat and straddling the man with my arms around his neck. I moved my lips over his skin, not quite touching his cheeks and nose, his lips and eyes, but almost. He could feel my breath, my full breasts straining against my dress as they rubbed against his chest.
"Cindy…" Baron sighed softly, his hands moving from my hips to my ass, squeezing me gently. "My God, you're so beautiful."
"Everyone says that," I breathed. "Tell me something else."
"You make it hard to think of anything else," Baron chuckled.
"I make it hard?" I asked him huskily. "Big and hard?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "I've been hard all night for you."
"I'm going to fuck you soon," I promised him. "Is that what you want? Do you want to put your cock inside me?"
"Oh. I like a woman who knows when to talk dirty," Baron said with a smile and I grinned at him.
"You like it, huh?" I teased him with my tongue, working it between my bee-stung lips. "What do I have to do to make you love it?"
"I don't know," he sighed with a small shake of his head.
"What do you want me to do, Baron?" I lowered myself down, putting my weight on his thighs and reaching between us to open his trousers.
"Everything," the man said, his blue eyes shining in the darkness as they caught the passing lights outside.
"Everything?" I giggled, unzipping his pants and reaching inside. "Do you want me to suck it for you? Wrap my lips around your fat cock? Hmmm…Do you want to fuck my face, Baron?"
"Yeah," he breathed.
"Do you want me lick your balls, Baron?" I asked him, biting my lip as I found his swollen prick with my fingers. "Do you want me to lick your asshole? I can be a nasty little girl, if you want me to be."
"Oh, Jesus," he growled, shifting his hips as I pulled his penis free. It was long, more than average, and very thick. I loved his fat cock and I was holding it in both of my hands, pulling at it gently with one fist and then the other.
"Or do you want me to tie you down? Hmmm…" I wondered with a curious sigh. "Tie you to the bed and make you lick me instead? I bet you'd like that a lot, wouldn't you, Baron? Do you want to tongue my asshole for me?"
"Yeah," he agreed softly. "I want all of you, Cindy."
"I know," I nodded slowly. "You're always in charge. Always making decisions, aren't you? It would feel good to just relax, wouldn't it? Let someone else be in charge for awhile…Do you want me to be in charge, Baron?"
"I want to make love to you," he said, watching my face and this was the Baron Carlisle that Robert had never seen before. He was like any other man, so eager to please and desperate for his own release. That conflict was all over his face, deep inside his soft blue eyes and I smiled at him.
"You will," I told him. "As many times as you like."
I let him kiss me then, the way he'd been wanting to all night long. Baron pulled me against him, trapping his stiff cock between us as his fingers went in my thick, black hair. His other hand was in the small of my back, holding me tightly as I allowed his tongue to explore my mouth. He was patient, gentle too and I enjoyed the way he kissed me. My nipples flashed hot and cold, like burning ice and desperate for more attention than just rubbing myself against the man could give me. Like my penis, my girlish cock trapped inside my panties, they were straining for a real touch and the temptation to peel that expensive dress off my flushed body was almost more than I could bear.
The penthouse was a modest apartment atop the Lafayette Hotel, just off Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village. It was surprisingly simple, given my experience with visiting Baron's impressive home just outside Providence, Rhode Island. That was where his great grandfather had opened the original First Providence Bank, capitalizing on the economic boom of the American Civil War. The penthouse, by contrast, was tastefully austere and very comfortable, and clearly Baron didn't entertain socially here, but rather used it as a little getaway.
"You've had a woman here before!" I said, half-giggling, half-pouting as I looked through the dresser in the apartment's only bedroom.
"What's that?" Baron asked from the living room. "I hope you like Mozart."
"Never mind," I sang playfully as soft, classical music filled the air.
He'd suggested that I'd find something more comfortable to wear and the man had been right. There were several drawers full of lingerie, panties, stockings, and the like. Another drawer with casual women's clothing and whoever Baron's Mistress was, or had been, she had nice taste in clothes.
"Oh." I blinked as I found a neatly folded camisole and tap pants set in teal. It was made of silk and wonderfully sexy, but what really caught my attention was a dull stain on the camisole. Not a large one and not really obvious, but it was there and I remembered spilling the wine on Belinda the night she'd been wearing it. My wife had been a little upset with me at the time and now it was here, in Baron Carlisle's secret bedroom. What did that mean?
I looked through all of the clothes and I found a blouse I knew to be Belinda's for sure and a couple other things, a black negligee, for example, that I was reasonably sure belonged to her. All of the clothes were her size, so far as I could tell, but…Yeah. It was enough to convince me that Belinda had spent some time here, more than just a few nights, and the only question was whether or not Baron Carlisle had been here with her. It could be she had use of the apartment for her own little getaways, although I wasn't sure I could see Baron willing to share his idyllic retreat in quite that way. But they'd always had a strange relationship, one that seemed more than mere father and daughter, and I'd always dismissed it previously.
"Did you find something?" Baron asked me, smiling around the open door and I held up the camisole.
"I think so," I said with a smile. "Open some champagne and I'll be right out."
"Alright," he agreed, giving me a lingering look of appreciation as he loosened his tie.
Ten minutes later I was posing for him, walking into the room with my best runway strut, performing the moves I'd long since learned and perfected in the world's greatest cities. I'd left my heels on, three inch stilettos, and I stifled a giggle as Baron smiled eagerly at my little show. I reached the center of the room and paused, hands on hips, turning with a look of professional boredom, staring through the man and focusing my eyes a dozen feet behind him. My dark nipples were hard and swollen, pressing out against the silk and only the loose, casual style of the tap pants hid my erection from the man.
I spoiled it with a laugh, finding Baron's eyes with mine.
"How do I look?" I asked him.
"Amazing," he said, sitting on a leather sofa and holding a glass of champagne.
"I mean in this outfit," I said, licking my lips. "Do I look as good as Belinda?"
"Uh…" Baron swallowed thickly, his smile faltering.
"It's okay," I shrugged, looking down at the man. "I know these are her clothes. Does she come here often?"
"How do you know that?" he wondered, his expression trying to hide something.
"I can smell her on them," I giggled and walked close to him, reaching down for my own glass and lifting it from a glass table. "Can't you?"
"My daughter, um…She uses the apartment," Baron cleared his throat, "from time to time."
"No," I sighed, dropping gracefully to kneel on the thick carpeting in front of him. "Tell me you fuck her," I said, pushing his legs apart gently. "I want to hear the truth from your lips."
"Cindy…" The truth was already on his face.
"Tell me," I said softly, reaching for his trousers and massaging the man's penis once more, the way I'd been doing it for most of the night. I was struggling with the sudden realization of what Baron was admitting to, and I had no idea what it meant or where it would lead. I was determined to hide my confusion, however, and perhaps this was how I'd punish the man for his previous sins.
"Sometimes," he said in a weak voice, narrowing his eyes on my smiling face. "She's, um…It's hard to explain."
"She's a little slut?" I asked him with a giggle and Baron blinked at me. "Did she seduce you? Did she get you drunk one night and fuck your brains out, Daddy?"
"Um…" He finished his champagne with one large swallow.
"I bet you've been fucking Belinda for a long time, huh?" I sighed, pressing my hand against his cock and rubbing it hard. "Since she was a little girl?"
"No!" Baron shook his head quickly and I laughed.
"Since she was a big girl, then." I reached for the bottle, lifting it from a plastic ice bucket so I could refill his glass. "Come on. Tell me, I want to know. How old was she when you started fucking your daughter?"
"She was, um…Sixteen," Baron said slowly. "I tried to say no to her, but…"
"Really?"
"…she always gets what she wants," Baron shrugged and he looked genuinely sad at his admission. "I love her."
"I know," I said softly, pouring champagne into his glass. "It feels good to tell someone, doesn't it?"
"What?" He blinked at me and then caught up with what I'd said. "Yeah. Maybe. I…You have to believe me, Cindy. I didn't want to do it at first."
"At first?"
"Anytime," he sighed. "I still don't, but…Belinda won't let me say no. She's never let me say no to anything."
I believed him. I mean, I really believed that he felt guilty about having sex with his daughter. Perhaps he didn't want to do it, I wasn't sure about that, but even if it was some weird fantasy of his, the reality of it was obviously weighing heavily on his conscience. I think he really did want to tell someone about it too. I'd just guessed, thinking I'd bring it up and if he got angry or indignant, I'd just laugh it off as teasing or more of my silly jealousy. But he hadn't gotten mad; he hadn't even put up a fight. Baron had confessed almost immediately and the mood had changed quickly.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be," I told him, putting my champagne aside so that I could unbutton his shirt. He'd already removed his suit coat and tie.
"You must think I'm terrible," he said, watching as I undid his cufflinks, gold and onyx and bearing his monogram.
"I shouldn't have said anything," I decided. "I don't hate you."
"Why?" Baron's eyes searched my face and I felt a sympathy for the man that I can't explain, or perhaps I just didn't want to explain it. Like my attraction for him, my emotions were tempered by my past experiences with him. There were qualities to Baron that I didn't like, flaws that I couldn't overlook, and yet…I wanted to forgive him. I wanted him to be as good as he could have been in another life.
"Because I like you too much for that," I said lightly, smiling and wishing to put the moment away.
"I haven't been with another woman since my wife died," Baron told me as I unbuttoned his shirt. "Even before then…Belinda wouldn't allow it."
"She's not her now," I said with a smile, pulling the man's shirt off his shoulders, down his arms one at a time.
"She won't like this," Baron said.
"I think you worry too much about your daughter," I replied with a shake of my head. "I'm here now. I'll protect you."
"But…"
"Shhhh…" I whispered. "Enough of her. You'll make me jealous again and then I will hate you."
Perhaps I should have pressed the man for other details in his life. I had the impression that Baron would have opened up completely, answering any question I might have posed, and I desperately wanted to know what had happened to Evelyn. I hadn't forgotten her, not at all, and there was a chain of events leading to her death with Baron right in the middle. Mike had found me and told Baron where I was staying; Baron had told someone else, the people he was working for, and they had killed her. Perhaps they'd killed Mike as well, as Frankie seemed to believe. Because the man had failed to find Robert, I wondered, or because he'd let me go? Or maybe Mike had finally uncovered the truth.
I wanted to ask, but my heart told me to wait. Baron was fragile now. This big, strong man. This pillar of confidence was weak beneath his façade and I could see through it finally. I could see how lonely he really was and those were qualities I couldn't have imagined the man possessing until that evening. It would be too easy to break him completely, I thought and all of my anger was for the man's daughter. I didn't know how or why, but somehow Belinda had twisted her father. She'd abused him, the way we would ordinarily imagine a wicked man forcing himself on a child.
"Like this…" I whispered, laying on the bed at an angle so that I could look at Baron and he could see me as I kissed his penis.
He'd grown soft for a time, but now I had him naked and hard, and comfortable on his bed. I held Baron's cock in my left hand and he was large, like the man himself. Old enough to be my father, easily, and still I found him attractive. His face was gentle with a smile that seemed hopeful to me; a strange reaction to have. His gray-blue eyes were bright and I enjoyed the man's gaze which was tender like his hand on my shoulder, on my neck as I licked his penis slowly. He had salt and pepper hair on his broad chest and around his cock and balls, thin wiry pubic hair that tickled my chin and cheeks. For a sixty year old man, Baron was fit and I appreciated the maturity of his form, the long years worn over muscle and bone and the hot blood in his veins.
I worked my pursed lips around the shaft, enjoying the faint, salty flavor of his skin. I could smell his flesh, even his arousal, I imagined. This was the part of sex I enjoyed most, the surrendering of my senses to the experience. I could hear his breathing and see the slow rise and fall of the man's chest. I could feel his strong pulse beneath my fingers as I squeezed his prick and pulled the smooth glans into my wide-stretched mouth. I washed the head lazily, filling the bedroom with soft, wet noises and I would open wide to ensure he could see my tongue as it moved around his penis.
Baron's cock filled my mouth completely and I couldn't take all of him. I let the man go with my hands and kept him trapped there, with my lips stretched around the shaft as I moved my head up and down. I breathed easily through my nose and swallowed the growing wetness as it filled my mouth. Some of it would escape my lips, spit and precum leaking slowly to spill down the length of him and glisten like dew in his pubic hair. I kept him that way, sucking the man and loving him with my soft, wet mouth for five minutes without pause, never loosing him from between my lips.
"Mmmm…Cindy…" he breathed, finding my hair with hands and he wasn't yet close to cumming, merely enjoying the sensation of my tongue playing along the underside of his cock.
Baron slipped the thin straps of the camisole off my shoulders and I shrugged, helping him as he reached for my breasts. I moved so that my heavy breasts hung from my body, firm and pliant and flushed pink with my pleasure. My nipples were long and thick, swollen and sensitive to slightest touch. I moaned around Baron's prick when he found one with his fingers, giving my aching flesh a gentle tug and then a harder pinch as I murmured my ready agreement. He moved from one to the other and back, patiently enjoying my body and the sensation of my sucking mouth. Everything was slow and deliberate, languid as the rest of the world was forgotten and locked safely away in the night.
After some time I moved, bringing my tits to his cock and pressing my body against Baron's. I let him slide wetly between my breasts, trapping him there as I kissed his stomach and then his chest. I teased the man's nipples with my tongue and teeth, biting him tenderly and drawing the small nubs into my mouth. Baron's hands roamed my shoulders and down my back, over and then under the teal silk that was sliding ever lower to bunch around my waist. We enjoyed that foreplay for a long while and the warmth was growing inside both of us.
I could feel his body trembling, offering me small shivers every now and again as I'd find some special place with my hands and mouth. My tummy was tight and tingling with the butterflies of pleasure, the need inside me growing with the desire for physical expression.
When I found Baron's mouth with mine, I was already pushing at the tap pants I wore. Those loose silk shorts were becoming an inconvenience and I slid my tongue into Baron's mouth, kissing the man deeply until I was free of them. My camisole was around my waist and hips, covering our union and my swollen penis as it jutted upward into the silk. Baron held my lightly by the hips as I reached down, guiding his cock inside my body. I was tight for him, small and hot inside, and my sphincter resisted, stretching only reluctantly as I ignored the dull pressure of his entry.
I hadn't made love to a man in well over a month, not since I'd last been with Jaan, and I was quivering with my desire to be filled once more. My rectum was dry, but Baron was very wet and his cock forced its way past my clasping muscles, shoving them rudely aside as I gasped into the man's mouth. I was riding him, doing all the work as I used my thighs to lift myself slightly and push myself down, taking that long thick cock a little deeper each time. It was good for me, so good, being stretched and filled that way. My asshole resented the intrusion and there was some small pain, but I didn't mind it. I embraced the fire and cramp-like sensation of taking the man inside me.
"Ummmm…You're tight, Cindy…Slow…" Baron breathed, smiling into my face as I drank cool air through my open mouth above him.
I wanted it harder and faster, having taken nearly all of his cock by then, but I forced myself to relax. I let Baron guide me with his strong fingers digging into my skin. He moved me easily, up and down and I gave a deep throated groan of pleasure when I felt the man's flesh and pubic hair against my exposed pelvis. He was inside me to the root, his cock buried completely within my ass and we rested there for a moment. My smallish balls were resting on his skin, my erection standing stiff and hidden, awash with the precum staining my camisole. My asshole was wrapped around Baron's cock like a wonderfully hot, tight cunt.
I watched his face, his eyes as I sat upright and impaled on his prick. My fingers found my camisole and I pulled it upward, over my heaving breasts and face, exposing my body completely. There was nothing hidden now and for the moment Baron noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He was watching me, smiling at me and squeezing my hips while my rectum offered small contractions of pleasure, a rhythmic pressure to pull at his cock.
"Make love to me now," I told him, whispering the words and sliding my palms down my body.
My hands found my tits and I played with them briefly for Baron's amusement. I pinched my nipples hard, pulling my ripe tits outward into swollen cones of pink flesh. He followed me with his eyes as my hands went downward to find my taut belly, empty and flat, and lower still. Baron was watching, moving his hips slightly, giving me small thrusts that I would grind myself against with a roll of my hips. He blinked rapidly, staring at my girlish cock, thin and pink with the foreskin pulled back just enough to expose the glistening tip. It was the moment of truth and I'd been there many times with many different men.
"Love me," I breathed, falling forward and the man had no choice as his mouth opened for my tongue.
Whether it was me or something about me, some magic my fairy godmother had wrought, I had no idea. It didn't matter as Baron surrendered with desperate acceptance. His cock remained firm and fixed inside my ass and his hands clutched at me, pulling me tight against his body as we began to move. I was lifting myself and Baron would pull me back to meet his thrusts, over and over while we kissed and moaned and breathed the humid air of our passion. It was good sex. We were making love and I held nothing back from him. I kissed his ear and whispered tender words, breathless praise for how good it felt to be with him, to be a part of him. We were joined now and I'd never let him release me.