Ocean Breeze
Simeon guided her up the stairs to his place nosily. It was as if he wanted everyone to know that he had yet another woman under his thumb. And in a way he did. Des'iree was somewhat enraptured by this man, Simi, as he preferred to be called. She almost laughed out loud. Again.
'Well, this is the place," Simeon said, flicking on the lights. It wasn't sophisticated, to say the least, but it held it's own style that was also uniquely his. Posters and tee shirts hung everywhere, and she noticed that though it was cluttered, it was not messy. Over in the corner, she spotted where he played music. Disk and record holders were piled high, and equipment she had never laid eyes on before was hooked up.
"It's...you."
"I know." Simeon's voice was as sexy as ever, but it held a hint of pride to it.
"Tell me Simeon, do you bring all of your victims up here?"
"Depends on what you mean by 'victim' With that term you associate kicking and screaming and resistance, but most people, most women that come here are less that resistant."
"Ahh, do we have what we call, by definition, a male whore?"
"Actually, I like to think of myself as promiscuous."
"I see. Are you promiscuous in everything that is a sample of daily life?"
Simeon's only reply was "Mmm," as he advanced towards her. She started back a bit, but then realized that he was dying to kiss her. And, Des'iree realized, she was dying to kiss him.
She, in the end, did kiss him, and she let him stroke her through her almost sheer blouse. She moaned when he did, loving the feel of his almost scorching hands brush across her breasts and stomach that were guarded only by flimsy material.
He undid the material, practically ripping it from her, and he quickly discarded her bra. He loved the sight of her breasts so much that the dangle of the small crucifix over them tormented him. He took that off too, flinging her faith far away from her. Des'iree groaned and clutched him to her, gyrating against his firm hips...
Continued in Part 4.