“You pregnant ah! Siao ah!”
The shrill cries were so loud they pierced through his earphones with Cory from Slipknot screaming his lungs out. Daniel took out his i-phone 4, stopped the track, and craned his neck to see what the commotion was about.
From two cabins apart, he witnessed a guy carrying a canvas bag sheepishly departed from the reserved seat and left.
A pale-faced, bespectacled woman immediately claimed the seat. Commuters were so stunned with the scene unfolding right before their eyes that no one seemed to be moving, much less breathed. The air seemed to have that kind of deafening silence after a bullet had blasted in the air. Post shootout.
No one would have imagined something like this could happen. Hell, but it did.
Just when Daniel was trying to figure out what went wrong, he felt a light tap on his forearm; something warm, like a finger.
“That was something, huh?” A woman’s voice said.
Daniel spun around and saw an attractive woman, probably in her late twenties, gesturing with her chin toward the said direction and back at him. She smiled and thrust a hand forward.
“Hi, I’m Carol.” She introduced herself.
Daniel took her hand in and smiled, immediately sucking in his tummy.
“Hi.” Always the good first word when one was caught unaware.
Carol released her grip and frowned just a little. “I don’t suppose your name is Bruce Willis?”
Daniel gave a thousand-watt smile. “Oh yeah, I forgot to take my toupee off.”
Carol chuckled lightly. Daniel gave his name afterward and did a onceover, his eyes dancing surreptitiously on her body.
Her hair was long and wavy, her features attractive. The small chin that jutted out beneath her pouty lips made Daniel want to pinch it and said, ‘Sooo cuteee’.
Carol was wearing the usual office garb; a no-nonsense button down blouse, black skirt and black heels. A computer bag was slung on her left shoulder; it had a Dell logo stitched on the front flap. She could almost blend into the rush-hour human traffic and not have men ogling at her. But in fact, underneath the drab outfit, Daniel surmised, was one very shapely figure. Even from the outlook, one could almost see the hidden potential cover up by the material.
In a nutshell, Carol was your sexy girl-next-door; low key and very subtle.
Wondering what was Carol up to - maybe it was about his good looks - Daniel thought, he tried to come up with something snappy, or ask her out for a spin on the big Ferris wheel. Instead, his wishful thoughts were cut off by her line of conversing.
“Wondering how something like that could happen, huh? You think she’s probably stressed up?” Carol said, her voice soft enough for him to hear, her hands crossed over her chest.
Feeling slightly dejected that it wasn’t about him, Daniel pretended nonchalant about it and waved a dismissive hand. “Uh-huh. Maybe she had a bad day?” Still, his tummy wasn’t protruding.
Carol turned to face him then. “Have you,” she asked, “ever had a bad day that you just wanna scream?”
Daniel seemed to mull it over. And then he said, “If you can call having women telling me how fine-looking my ass is a bad day, then I’m having some. But I’m not about to scream my head off though.”
“I’m sure you get that a lot.”
“Not to be patronizing,” Daniel said, sweeping his hand over his mane and crossed his ankles, “if you are not going to ask me out for a date like now, then I just don’t see why we should be discussing about my fine piece of ass. Not to mention my rock-solid abs.” Bull’s eye. Mr. Straightforward.
Carol rocked back and forth on her heels with her head down, smiling to herself. Daniel was hoping like mad that she would really be hooked. Please, please…
A few moments passed. Then she looked at Daniel and said, “Well, I have met my match, huh?”
She rummaged through her bag and produced a name card. Gotcha!
Daniel played it cool and took it from her. Pretending like he had it in him, he read the card with a racing heart.
“Financial Advisor. AIA.” He read it out. Blimey!
“That’s right, Mr. Fine-Piece-of-Ass.”
“Oh, you can call me Mr. Debonair, if that’s a mouthful for you. I get that on a daily basis.”
Carol laughed heartily at that. A strand of hair came down and she tugged it behind an ear. She looked at him like an antique buyer appraising an ancient artifact. A tint of red appeared on her cheeks. Hmm, is she blushing? Daniel thought. That would be a good sign.
The train came to a stop now, spilling some passengers out but more squeezed in. An ultra tall Caucasian with a hard-case briefcase inched closer to give space for boarding commuters, causing Carol to close in the distance between them.
Ever the one to not miss an opening, Daniel quipped again. “Try not to look into my eyes.”
Carol hooked the shoulder strap farther up and leaned on the panel. She exhaled an exaggerated breath, widened her eyes and spoke, “Tell me about it.”
“Women get lost in them.” He said, keeping his expression neutral. “Sometimes, I’d love to remind them that it’s the whole package that they should be seeing.” Daniel shrugged in a self-depreciating manner, his lips curled into a lopsided grin. Suave.
Her brows cringed to a semi-frown, like she didn’t really know how to put it. His outrageous sense of humour confounded her. It felt like an irritating itch on her skin; but as each scratch went, it became more and more soothing and irresistible. What man would - in the first place - describe himself as though women should genuflect before him, doing his bidding? Fine piece of ass? Mr. Debonair?
Carol had initially sized up Daniel as a potential client, using the earlier brouhaha as an opening to her sales pitch. She had been doing this for a year now - striking up conversations with mostly men on trains – and it had been fruitful. Although some men would find her repulsive, most of them were responsive and forthcoming. No one would have expected being accosted by an insurance agent on a train, but it had certainly worked to her advantage, given her good looks.
But now that Carol had gotten more than she’d bargained for, she felt something inside her stir – the thread of professionalism fraying with each ponderous second. A warm, funny feeling blossomed from her chest and spread. Her cheeks flushed. The space between them had a crackling quality that Carol could almost feel it.
Love at first sight, an inner voice told her. Carol could only laugh. No way. How could a man she’d just met sweep her off her feet just like that? With his self deluded charms, no less?
This guy is a Class A ‘PITA’! (Pain In The Ass)
“Getting lost already?” Daniel sighed.
Carol resisted rolling her eyes, waited a beat and said, “How I wish to add to your stupendous statistics,” and then she straightened up, “but for now, you might want to consider insuring yourself against future uncertainties due to your impeccable good looks that might inadvertently result in being trampled all over by salivating, brain-dead nubile women, all vying to lay their hands on your fine piece of ass, and not to mention,” her eyes swam beneath his chest, “your rock-solid abs.” A thin smile spread across her lips.
Still playing Mr. Debonair to the hilt, Daniel replied with his hands crossed, “Wow, I’m in serious trouble, huh?”
The tall Caucasian slowly swiveled his head around. Daniel forced a toothy grin up with his eyes firmly shut. The guy gave a knowing look to Carol and plugged an ear piece to his right ear, shaking his head.
As if on cue, the overhead radio squawked the name of an incoming station which Carol was meant to alight. Rather than taking offense at his snide rejoinder, Carol was finding it almost amusing. This man knew no limits.
“You got my number there. Call me if you need one. Chao.”
Carol spun on her heels and walked out of the gaping doors, clearing missing the two-finger wave Daniel did behind her. Only after a few steps away then she realized she was holding her breath. Carol let it out through her flared nostrils, feeling the tension on her shoulders ebb a few notches. A warm sensation coursed through her whole body thereafter.
And for no reason at all, as Carol scaled down the escalator, she caught herself grinning silly at no one. Her heart fluttered in a way she’d not experienced in a long while. What a jerk! She replayed the exchange mentally. What audacity! Totally PITA! This guy really knows how to shoot from his hips. He really thinks women get hooked by men blowing their own horns? He thinks that was charming? Ha! We shall see…
Before Carol could even consider her next move, her cell rang.
Carol picked it up without looking at the Caller ID. “Hi, Carol speaking.”
“You might remember Mr. Debonair, don’t you?”
Holy shit. This guy is irksome.
“Oh, yes, D for Debonair. Hard to forget.”
“Look, after hearing what you said, I’m seriously thinking my life is in danger now. Anytime soon, I might just get mobbed by fans of my tasty derriere. So would you be free this coming Friday?”
“Whoa, does anyone use that word anymore?” Carol queried.
“Sounds sophisticated, don’t you agree?”
“Classy. Friday you said?”
And so the Friday appointment was fixed. Prior to hanging up the line, Carol alerted Daniel about his derriere sticking out like a sore thumb, too obvious. He might want to play it down lest the savage attack from delirious fans took place before he could get himself properly insured. Meantime, she’d check with her company for personal protection against straying hands.
Daniel couldn’t thank Carol enough for her insightful advice and excellent professionalism. He added on by pleading her not to fantasize too much on his tasty derriere, lest he’d had to shuffle his already chock-a-block schedule for an earlier appointment. Busy man, he said. Big time.
For the next few days, Carol was actually expecting Mr. Debonair to call her. Or, Mr. Derriere. Since he so insisted, she couldn’t resist. She’d half expected a guy like him would no doubt be tenacious; skin so thick it acted as a bullet vest. She wouldn’t put pass him not to be bombarded by his calls or messages by now.
But, none. Nothing from him.
Come Thursday – one more day to go, Carol was actually counting – still, not a single beep. Maybe he was pulling a fast one, Carol surmised. She had over the years been given the no-show from clients; even from those who had seemed genuinely interested in buying. One more like him wouldn’t matter. Just my luck. Try again. She decided it best to wait and see. If Mr. Debonair/Derriere isn’t meeting, what the fuck? No loss over there.
Big time, like what he’d said.
Friday afternoon, Carol was busying with paperwork at her desk. Files that were supposed to be done light years ago were strewn atop her otherwise neatly stacked table. Carol loved it clean and tidy; this way, she would have a clearer head. Or so she thought. Mysophobia on a lesser degree. But her packed schedule had deterred her from the backlogging. Summoning her resolve for the third time in a roll, Carol was determined to submit all the cases she had by today. And to reward herself, she’d decided on a tub of Haagen Daz Cookies N Cream.
When the clock hit six in the evening, Carol’s shoulders were already burning with the constant stoop. Her fingers were sore with the feverish typing and writing. Albeit the numbing pains, Carol was overall satisfied with the work she’d put in. Pushing the chair away, she stood up to stretch her body. One more hour to go.
Her cell beeped. Carol snatched it up in one fell swoop. At first, the number didn’t register in her overworked brain. And that was because she didn’t save the number. The message simply read, “Been here 4 5mins. Me butt is itching. Cum & save my ass.”
Carol frowned. But as soon as her lips curled into a smile, she already knew who the sender was. Quickly, she sent back, “In a jiffy…m sorry” and rushed out the office. En route to the Starbucks along Cuppage rd, Carol took a last minute preening at a public toilet. Her heart was jumpy, her fingers shaky. She knew it was just another meeting with a client, but then…
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, I, uh, overlooked the time.” She huffed, catching her breath.
Peering up from his phone, Daniel smiled widely and gestured for her to sit. “I thought I have lost my charm.”
Carol plopped onto the chair and sat facing him. A goofy smile appeared on his face and she was wondering if her attire wasn’t savvy, or professional enough. One can hardly call a sleeveless cotton top with a wraparound patterned skirt and a pair of gladiator shoes a proper business attire, but then Carol wasn’t even sure he’d turn up.
Her hand shot up to her chest in a flush. “What?” she said, peering at him.
The Mandarin collared shirt that he was wearing accentuated his neck and broad shoulders. The sleeves were neatly folded to his elbows. The pair of well-scuffed jeans blended in like second skin. Although his hair was a tad mussed, David Gan would have his seal of approval on it. Man, he was dashing.
He took a deep drag, let it out, and said, “I should get you a drink first. What would you prefer?”
Carol told him Earl Grey would do. He handed her his phone, told her to watch the video, and took off. Wondering what was that all about, Carol hit Play and immediately cringed from the ear-piercing yells. The heart-stopping scene from the day they first met on the train was apparently recorded and uploaded on Youtube. A self-righteous Samaritan who had the time.
Five minutes later, Daniel came back with her order plus an additional slice of cheese cake. Especially for her. Carol blushed from the thoughtfulness and thanked him like a school girl on a first date.
He sat back down, took a gulp of his drink – a hot chocolate – and interlaced his fingers. Without preamble, he said, “Recognize the scene?”
“Uh-huh. On the train.”
“You’d think that someone would actually bother to record and upload on Youtube for the whole world to see.”
“Uh, that’s not my moral call.”
“Right, probably not mine either,” Daniel snapped his fingers. “But where were the good old days when one could do anything in public and not be caught on tape with the entire human race as witnesses?” Then, with an elaborated shrug, “I’ll be damned if my first class derriere was shown on the worldwide web...”
With a pointed harrumph, Carol produced a reading glass and had it perched on her cute nose. Time to do what she was here for. Time for the kill. Focus.
Daniel couldn’t help but ogle. He watched her shuffle some files out from her work bag, the way she nervously tucked an errant strand behind her ear, the way she bit her lower lip. Gorgeous, was what he thought.
“Uh, I may need your particulars first.” Carol said.
Daniel handed over his ID. “Talking shop already? I think it’d be better if we get to know each other first. How else am I to entrust my derriere upon a stranger?”
Carol bit down a retort and presented a rehearsed smile. Daniel beamed.
Working her MontBlanc pen over a form, she asked for his profession without peering up.
“Oh, I’m a freelance photographer --” he said.
“Hmm, and your average income per…”
“—plus I contribute short stories for a particular blog that deals with carnal satisfaction.”
Carol’s writing hand instantly stopped in midsentence. Words formed incoherently in her mind. Did I hear wrong? Carnal what? Satisfaction???
Daniel continued, as if he knew she needed clarification. “Just in case you are wondering if I’m paid for that, nope.”
Carol looked up finally. There was a pounding in her ears that sounded so loud she swore people around could hear. Blood rushed to her cheeks, searing them. She felt hot and clammy all of a sudden. Damn! Their eyes met.
“It’s a friend of mine that I’m helping.” he shrugged. “She gave me the space for creativity, and I simply didn’t see why I shouldn’t take it up.”
Carol covered her mouth and swallowed a ball-size saliva. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, before saying, “Are you,” she swallowed once more, “by any chance, the writer for Master Chink’s Blog?”
“You knew the blog?” Daniel pointed at her, his brows climbing up the forehead.
Again, Carol had to swallow her saliva. Where the damn hell was there ever this much of saliva? Shaking her head a little, she then nodded up and down, her eyes wide.
“The Master Chink’s carnal cafe? MCCC?” she blurted through a thick throat.
“You read them?”
“Not just read.” Carol took a sip of tea. She felt like she could use a tourniquet on her throat. “I’m so big a fan.”
Daniel chuckled lightly and shrugged, “I didn’t want to be known, you know. I just thought no one would want to read those obtuse stories I have churned out over the months. I’m feeling kind of silly right now.”
“Don’t say that.” The elaborate roll of her eyes couldn’t have been more pat.
“I’m more than impressed by your stories. I’m serious. I, uh…”
He exhibited a tittering laugh, waved his hands around, and said, “Don’t…don’t say that --”
“No, wait, the story from the month of May?”
“—I’m blushing already --”
“That was so…”
“I’d rather not talk about it.” Snorting laughs. Then, hands-covering-mouth kind of laughs.
Daniel’s laughs stopped all at once. “What’s the title? He asked.
“Uh, I think it’s…”
“‘One Gun Salute’?” Daniel spewed forth, excited.
He seemed to mull it over. “‘Pussyfooting Around’?”
Carol slapped on the table, as if a siren would activate. “Yes!”
“Hmm,” Satisfied, he sank back onto the chair, “that’s my masterpiece, I must say. A coitus interruptus segues into a ménage a trios.”
Perfect plot of the decade,” Carol earnestly said, “if not century.”
“Wow, I’m flattered.”
A few moments passed. The air was getting syrupy thick. Carol couldn’t have fathomed sitting vis-à-vis with the writer of MCCC. Everything seemed so surreal now. She’d been piqued to find out about the person behind all those quirky stories, but each time she’d thought of sending her request to Master Chink’s blog asking to reveal the identity, a small part of her brain clacked loudly, telling her, “So what if you know? Does it make a difference?”
Somehow the urge to know dwindled with the requiem. Delirious that Carol was now, she loved the fact that she’d met him. Interesting guy. And initially, she’d thought the person as a female. Oops.
After breaking the silence, they discussed more on the medical insurance, and Carol gave the usual spiel, answering the questions Daniel interjected here and there.
Fifteen minutes later, the job was done.
Daniel inked his signature over the sheaf of A4 size papers and shook his hand with Carol. Carol in turn thanked him for considering her as his agent and buying the product. He gestured for her to partake the cheese cake that was left untouched throughout the entire process. She tucked in, feeling like a lady.
“Uh, Carol.” Daniel spoke, took his time to light a cigarette, eyeball her.
She dabbed a corner of her mouth with a serviette and said, “Yes?”
He jumped right in. “What do you think about sex?”
The sudden question blindsided her. Carol blinked once, thought she’d heard ‘that’ instead of ‘sex’. Her instincts told her otherwise.
“Uh, what about it?” she asked tentatively.
Daniel dragged the end of the filter so hard, that Carol was beginning to wonder the entire length might just have turned into ash. Then he blew it skyward.
“Sex might be a taboo in our society, but why should it be in the first place?” he claimed.
“And uh, why not?”
“We were all born out of sex. Our parents had sex in order to conceive us, right?”
“Right. But that’s procreation, no?” Carol asked.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Yes. Procreation, however some might argue. But ask a man to visualize a blood-coated, raw pinkish coloured skin newborn and try having a hard-on.”
“Point taken.” She conceded.
“In some countries, do you know that sex is like eating or maybe something so mundane as though it couldn’t be more than a whim.”
“I don’t get it.” Carol’s head went left and right.
“You see, in Singapore, we talk about monogamous, right?”
She nodded. “Right.”
He continued, “But in some countries, one can have more than one married partner.”
She nodded again. “Heard about some.”
“In Nepal, when a woman is married, all the males within the bridegroom’s family can have sex with her, from what I’ve gleaned.”
Carol’s mouth parted slightly, was about to speak, but Daniel shut her off with a hand.
“So, when she gets impregnated, the culprit,” his fingers did a quote sign in the air, “aka the impregnator, be it the husband or someone else in the family, gets to bring up the baby as his own flesh and blood.”
Carol didn’t know about it until now. “That’s incestuous!” she shot from her hips, a deep crease formed above her brows. “How would the husband feel?”
Daniel shrugged. “That you’d have to ask him,” he shifted his weight to the edge of the chair, “but what I’m trying to say is, monogamous or not, that’s the play of the society, a culture kind of thing. Definitely not the reality. And I’m not even sure now what the reality is any more so than I first knew about it.”
“What’s more, in the ancient past, kings could have as many wives or concubines as he pleased. Even now, as well as I can remember, there are still practices of this kind in some parts of the world. Some would question the concept of love, but I can tell you, the love we have now is pretty much controlled by convention. We are taught to love only our legally married partner. That’s not love. That kind of love comes with terms and conditions. Possessing someone isn’t love.”
Carol took another bite of the cheese cake. It seemed rhetorical to her, and so she waited some more.
Daniel shifted his eyes to the back of her right shoulder, then came back and tapped the ash off the stainless steel ashtray.
“My ex used to say that she loved me more than I loved her. She made it sound like a thing which could be weighed on a scale. Rubbish, I’d say. She was controlling me, and that was why I broke it off.”
Carol considered it. “Love with a price tag?”
“The truth hurts, huh?” He flashed a palm at her. “We may think that we love someone so deep it’s almost stifling, but that shouldn’t be the case. Love should be free, and it’s extended to everyone. Not just family, friends, or what have you, but even strangers and the nature. I’d dare say our breath included.”
“Breath?” she asked in a childlike manner, completely absorbing into the topic.
“Yes.” Daniel nodded. “Think about it: When you are sad or happy, angry or frustrated, your breath stays with you. It’s the only thing that never deserts you. It accompanies the master to his or her death. Shouldn’t it be a good enough reason to treat it as sacred? But we humans squander it away. Sad, I must say.” He took a sip after that.
In a split second, Carol checked her breathing. Knowing that she was still inhaling, ergo still alive, she said, “That’s some deep shit you are talking about. Wow, I don’t know what to say.” She then paused to check her breathing for the second time.
A thin smile wedged across his lips. He took another puff and replied, “I love you, I love anyone. What’s there not to love? It’s a word, conjured superficially by Man to express an inner feeling. What’s that?”
“You are asking me?” She referred to herself with a finger. Daniel nodded. Carol shrugged and said, “Hell, you sounded cogent, but you are getting me all confused.”
Stubbing out the ciggie, he prodded, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not evangelizing free love over here, but I’m questioning the love that limits our human potential. One that cuts short to our own inner circle. One that makes us myopic to a colossal world that is happening out there, you know.”
Daniel added on, “How we behave, dress, speak, or anything, are dictated by the system that we live in. That’s not to say that it must be correct, or right. It’s the way it is.” Paused, and then he spurted, “What if, you were born in a place where sex is the staple, and you could get it anywhere? With whomever you so please? No strings attached? No frills? And certainly not a crime?”
Her eyes shot up to the ceiling, considering the heavy matter. She tapped a finger at her chin, before saying, “That’s weird, for one thing. But I’d think it’s pretty cool.”
“Hmm, so as you said ‘pretty cool’. Then can I have sex with you?”
He’d made it sound so off the cuff and appealing, but at the same time, mind-boggling nonetheless. The unexpected query landed on her like a bomb. It exploded inside her, starting from her chest and spread throughout the whole body. An unidentifiable heat rose to her cheeks. Her heart collided with her ribcage. The saliva situation was gaining control yet again.
“S-Say that again?” She swallowed some.
“Can I have sex with you?” Daniel said with an even tone. His eyes landed just soft on hers. Warm, but not searing.
Carol looked away, feeling the tension. “Mine oh mine, this is going somewhere, huh?” Involuntarily, her right hand rested above her breasts. The thudding in her chest was getting erratic, as felt on her palm. She looked back at him and said, “Is this even decent?”
“Why not? You said it was pretty cool? So now, I’m exercising an option that I have. It’s an invitation to have sex with you, much like an invitation to a brunch, or a trip to somewhere. You can reject me, you know. I won’t take it to heart.” He winked.
“Now I’m offended.”
“Why’s that so?”
“Your argument,” she gulped down another, “may be tenable, that much I granted, but then it doesn’t work here. For a woman to have sex with anyone she fancies, she’s labeled a slut, whore, easy rider, husband snatcher, so on and so forth. That fact, we can’t change.”
“Okay.” Daniel persisted. “But are you willing to have sex with me?”
put up a hand to stop him and continued, “To have sex with someone, I must, or should I say, anyone must, at the very least know that person for a period of time, and…and a love relation ensued, then it would be deemed appropriate. If not, what you are suggesting is a one-night stand. You meet up with someone, and then not knowing the background, sex occurs. That’s treating sex as a commodity. Right?”
“You can say that.”
“Right. So why should I have sex with you, when this is our what, the second time that we’ve met? Ha, you are so full of yourself.” She made a face and added, “It’s ridiculous.”
Daniel didn’t mind her tone, but she didn’t even sound convincing at all. As much as Carol was huffing and puffing right in front of him, he could detect a hairline crack on her ornery facade. Wait and see.
Instead, he languidly crossed his legs, reached for the pack of Viceroy Blast and fired another stick. Carefully, he watched her through the smoky fog and debated some.
“So,” Daniel chose his words carefully and said, “is that to say that perhaps the more we meet, the chances of us having sex are higher, ergo, more legitimately so?”
“Of course not!” Carol’s face was one of total disbelief. “A platonic relationship requires no sex at all!”
“Oh, you believe in that?”
“Absolutely.” She huffed.
“Hmm…in conclusion, you are not moved by my invite to have sex with me?”
“Yes. Not moved.” A steely resolve.
“The answer is no then?”
“Not even in the near future?” Daniel asked, just to make certain.
Carol shook her head with frustration. “No way.”
“Are you sure?
One last attempt by Daniel, “Uh…”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
As Carol walked out of the bathroom – wrapped around in a white towel – Daniel was tempted to serenade her with the song ‘When a man loves a woman’ by Michael Bolten. Instead, he leaned on the headboard and quipped, “Is this the time when the man is supposed to gasp?”
“In a good way.” She smiled shyly. “I deserve it.”
Before the amorous rendezvous, it took a very shy Carol to finally open up and talk about it some. The conversation had never veered off far from sex, what with Daniel constantly prodding, dousing her with his charisma and stoking her innate fire.
He’d seen the crack; therefore it was only a matter of time before his tenacity and sincerity would worm its way to the core of her heart. The last crumbling pieces came when Daniel took her hand and pulled her close, half-breathing, half-whispering into her ear about how sexy she’d looked. She’d bitten her lower lip. A slight hesitation. And then with dreamy eyes, Carol gazed into his, followed by an almost imperceptible nod. Daniel knew.
He smiled at her. Ditto for her.
Subsequently, they kissed passionately like two magnets being drawn together, ignoring stares from nearby patrons and rubberneckers. On hindsight, no one knew who took the first move, but what Daniel could remember was him at the back seat of a taxi, fingering Carol through her slightly damp panties, before they’d ensconced within rented four walls.
Without a break, Carol sauntered to the foot of the bed, let drop the towel and straddled on Daniel’s lap. His eyes bulged on the silky smooth skin. She took away the burning cigarette from his hand and stubbed it out inside the ashtray, brushing her tits against his face in the process.
“Be gentle.” he muttered, “Don’t slap my face.”
But Carol wasn’t in the right frame of mind for any meandering. Instead, her moves were all about merging with her burning desire for this man, to quench her sexual thirst.
She took his head into her chest, arching her own, sighing. She could feel his soft lips brushing against her skin, light feathery strokes. For a moment, her nipple met with wet, slippery flesh – his tongue. Carol cried out in pleasure, rotating her hips while the heat in her body seemed to mount like wildfire. The teasing varied from grazing to flicking, and then tugging and sucking, making her all the more breathless.
Lying down on the voluminous duvet, Carol spread her legs wide, fingering her wet flesh and looking intently at Daniel. Her amorous look couldn’t have conveyed more accurately about her intentions. The message was clear: She wanted him badly to be inside her, all over her.
With her head below him, he stood at the edge of the bed, peering over her naked body and stroking his hard-on. Carol guided his penis into her mouth with an urgency that tickled the back of his spine. She swallowed his balls, pulling the masculine length with her hand and seeking to do many things at one go. The heavenly sensations brought about from the caressing wasn’t about to make him succumb.
Conversely, Daniel plopped down to her luscious delta – 69 position - , instantly recognizing the exotic scent of sweetness and allure that wafted past his nostrils.
Carol wriggled and squirmed futilely underneath Daniel, while his frisky tongue traversed the intimate sodden strip of raw flesh.
But it was the sensitive knot that proved to be the weakest link.
The tidal waves of sheer orgasmic bliss piled on her soon after, jerking and thrashing her body. Surrendering herself into it, her ragged breaths filled the room, bouncing off the walls and back. Her fingernails dug deep into the duvet, mouthed tightly shut, preparing for an unending streams of fluctuating delight to course through her entire frame.
Disallowing a moment of respite for Carol, Daniel got off and plunged deep inside her with a rough push. A funny sound exited her mouth, followed by a pained expression on her face.
“Aw, soo…good,” Carol groaned.
He quickly got into a regular rhythm, thrusting his hips against her inner thighs. Slap, slap, slap… With each thrust, Carol matched with a lustful sound, her breasts jiggled madly along. Beads of sweat oozed through every available pore of hers. She felt hot and clammy even under the full blast of the air conditioning. But not for a second would she consider toweling dry. Carol had wanted it to last.
She wouldn’t risk anything to break the spell.
The spell was everything.
For the next ten minutes of so, they switched through every possible position, tilting and accommodating the awkward angles. And it was in the doggie position that Daniel had preferred to end it all. Spooning right behind Carol, he’d croaked, “Hmm, up…” and eased her on the dressing table; her hands propped on the edge.
They made eye contact on the mirror, as she mouthed a silent ‘Fuck me’. That was enough to push Daniel off the edge. More than enough, actually.
After gripping hold of her waist and readied for what was to come in the order of things, Daniel clammed his eyes shut and thrust even more aggressively. Almost barbaric, but Carol wouldn’t settle for less.
With a bestial grunt, Daniel shot his load onto her slender back, shuddering.
Still panting, they managed to hop over onto the bed and lay still, waiting for the sensations to subside. Meanwhile, a scarlet-cheek Carol leaned on Daniel’s sweaty chest and playfully circled her finger on his nipple. Her head bobbed up and down on the plane as if a buoy was being left on the ocean. She could still feel the sodden part of her twitch a little. For any minute, if the gung-ho he would initiate for a second battle, Carol was all up and ready.
Daniel had his hand on his forehead, wiping away the sweat and counting his blessings. His heart was still beating wildly. What a gorgeous woman he’d just met. Was it a dream?
A naked Carol suddenly stirred and flipped off the bed. She stole a glance over her shoulder and giggled across to the dressing table where she had left her handbag. Daniel admired the sexy contours of her back while she took something out. It turned out to be a vibrator – one that was pink and shaped like a bullet.
“Spot on! Just when I needed a good massage on my aching neck…”
She jumped right beside him, flashed a naughty grin and said, “I know it’s like asking for too much,” she paused, flapped her lashes, said, “But I’d like your fingers to do the walking for me.”
Giving an elaborate sigh, Daniel almost rolled his eyes and said, “Walk the walk, huh?” After a beat, he said, “By the way, since when were you a freelance masseuse?”
That’d earned a slap across his chest. And before Mr. Derriere could say anything in retaliation, something pinkish that tasted like hard plastic went into his mouth. Set in full blast, no less.