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Fall to Temptation |
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By Dirk Vincento
CHAPTER 13
The red light was flashing. Bruce pushed the button and waited. Hi honey, it’s me. It’s Sunday night about ten thirty. I thought I’d catch you in, but I guess you’ve gone out. I’m going to head to bed, so don’t bother calling me back tonight. I was just calling to say hi anyway. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you. Bye. Bruce smiled. Beep . . . Hi Bruce, it’s Rachael. We need to talk. I’ll drop by your place sometime Monday night. If that’s not convenient, call me. Otherwise, I’ll just turn up. (Slight pause) Don’t disappoint me. The machine fell silent. Bruce sat staring at it for a long time. Then he went and lay down on his bed.
CHAPTER 14
Lyla Bonaccord had a dilemma. Actually, there was really no problem at all. She knew exactly what she was going to do. But Lyla was no fool. She could see the situation for what it was. After all, a situation is a situation. And like many things in life, when one pops up, you just have to deal with it. Lyla now had an answer to Suzanne’s question: Could Bruce be seduced and tempted by another woman? The answer was quite simply . . . yes. The only question left was whether or not Lyla should tell Suzanne that not only could Bruce be tempted by another woman, but that he in fact had been tempted by another woman. On the one hand, the answer seemed to be another resounding yes. But then, things were not quite that simple. It had been a very long time since Lyla had been with a man, but it had been even longer since she had been with a man that made her feel the way she had with Bruce last night. The fact of the matter was that Lyla had never been with a man and felt that way before in her life. Only in her deepest, most private fantasies had she found the sensuality, passion and romance that had filled the room as she lay on her bed and seduced Bruce with her kisses. Only in her dreams had she experienced the tingling eroticism that she felt as she held Bruce’s head to her bosom while he slept. Throughout her life she had spent so many nights alone, conjuring up images of a handsome man who could make her feel beautiful, feminine and irresistibly alluring. She had spent hours lying on her bed, dressed in lacy lingerie and touching herself, imagining that there was someone there to enjoy it with her. And while the images existed only in her mind, the feelings were real and they had satisfied her for a long time. She had believed they always would because she had also believed that they were all there was. But now she knew that there was more. After having given up hope long ago, she was only now discovering that having a real man to hold and kiss made the erotic feelings that flowed through her even more powerful and intense than in her most vivid fantasies. She had kissed Bruce and caressed him with her lips. She had devoured him with her mouth and teased him with her tongue. She felt his strength weaken, his resolve crumble to dust. And as she remembered the feeling of his body and soul melting under her lips, a rush of erotic sensuality raged through her, flushing her cheeks and making her nipples tingle with delight. She put her hand on her pussy. It was still throbbing, gently pulsating from the memory of the night just past. She rubbed it lightly, moving her hand in slow, leisurely circles. The warm tingling that her fingers brought fourth made the sensations of the night before seem vivid and alive, close enough to touch. She could feel Bruce’s body up against hers and smell his hair and his skin, the soft, musky aroma of his perspiration mixed with the scent of his cologne. She could hear him gasp as his body shuddered with pleasure and taste the passion that flowed out through his pores. Her hand kept moving effortlessly as her mind drifted off, swept away in a sweet, erotic haze. Her course was preordained. She was sure of it. Lyla had a sixth sense about these things. The sensations and emotions she was feeling were irresistibly powerful. Far too strong to ignore. They made everything simple. Yes, Lyla Bonaccord had a dilemma. But there was no problem. No problem at all, because she knew exactly what she was going to do.
Chapter 15
Bruce could hear the clock on his desk ticking. He sat in the living room of his apartment with a drink in his hand. He was waiting. He looked at his watch. Nine-thirty. Maybe she won’t show, he thought to himself nervously. He was sure that there was a time when he would have been able to handle this situation with a certain amount of authority and control, but the events of the last four days had shaken his foundation. Things that had seemed simple, were now complex. Things that had been orderly were now in disarray. Rachael and Lyla had proven to be an impressive one-two punch. Rachael’s seduction on the couch seemed to have unlocked a Pandora’s box of latent sexual urges and fetishes. She had opened the gate and the horses had fled the stable. And then, just as all of his deepest, darkest erotic desires had been dragged out into the sunlight, Lyla had come along and taken advantage of his defenseless state. Not only did her ample bosom make her more than adequately equipped to fulfill the most powerful fetish that Rachael had uncovered, but the soft sensuous way in which she had seduced him had opened up a whole new area of sexual arousal. Bruce had always managed to keep his sex drive under control by dealing with sex as a physical act. Lyla had drawn him into the emotional arena, showing him that his mind and body combined could bring him to heights of sexual arousal that he could never be capable of with his body alone. He mixed himself another drink and looked at his watch. Five to ten. He sat down again and watched the ice cubes floating in his glass, small bubbles escaping into his drink as they melted. The ice clinked against the side of the glass as his hand jerked at the sound of the buzzer. Putting down his drink, he walked slowly to the door and hesitantly pushed the button on the intercom: TO SEE YOUR FUTURE, PRESS HERE. “Hello.” Hi, it’s Rachael. “Come on up.” He buzzed her in and waited. He could feel his heart pounding and his stomach was fluttering with nervousness. He felt like he was standing in line for a roller coaster, his knees weak with anticipation. The only difference was that with a roller coaster, the wait was usually worse than the ride. In this case, he wasn’t so sure it would turn out that way. After what seemed like an eternity, there was a gentle knock on the door. He stood with his hand on the doorknob and paused for a few moments, not wanting it to look like he had been waiting for her too anxiously. When he finally swung the door open, he quickly discovered that the nervousness he had been feeling was only the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected that seeing Rachael again would bring back so many feelings and emotions in one giant tidal wave. He stood gawking at her, unaware of the passage of time. She looked more beautiful than he had remembered, more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. Her shining hair fell lustrously over her shoulders and her eyes sparkled, highlighted by mascara and eye shadow. Her lips were glistening and red, slightly parted and set in a mysterious smile. Her body was hidden under her coat, but Bruce could still make out the swell of her breasts as they defiantly refused to be concealed. Being covered made them even more tantalizing, their shape visible just enough to hint provocatively at their enormous size. Rachael lingered in the hallway, letting Bruce look at her, fully aware of the effect she was having on him. When she felt that he’d seen enough, she stepped inside without waiting to be invited. “Come on in,” Bruce said, after the fact. “Don’t mind if I do,” Rachael said, delivering the line with a tone of indifference that still managed to let Bruce know she was aware that seeing her again had stopped him in his tracks. He closed the door behind her, trying not to look as foolish as he felt. “Let me take your coat for you.” “Thanks,” she said, undoing her coat and slipping it off her shoulders. Bruce hung up Rachael’s coat and then turned back to her, only to find himself stopped dead in his tracks again. She was wearing a plain, long sleeved white top and a leather skirt that ended at mid-thigh. On most women, the sweater would have been innocuous enough, but when filled out with Rachael’s colossal breasts, it became a beacon of sexuality that would invariably draw men’s eyes like a magnet. The mounds that her breasts formed looked soft and round. The outline of her bra was visible through her sweater and Bruce could see that it was lacy and feminine. Her nipples had formed small bumps that broke the smooth curve of her bosom, casting shadows that stood out clearly against the white material of her top. For some reason it occurred to Bruce at that moment that in spite of the profound effect these women’s breasts had been having on him for the last few days, he had yet to see an exposed, naked tit. It seemed incredible that he could have been overpowered so completely by something he had yet to see in the flesh, so to speak. But on the other hand, the fact that Rachael and Lyla’s breasts had remained concealed, and at the same time been displayed so prominently, added an irresistible, erotic mystique that intensified their seductive power. Bruce could already feel the effect they were having on his body now, as his cock began to stiffen into an erection that he was helpless to prevent. “Are you going to ask me to sit down, or are you going to stand there all night admiring my tits?” Once again, the sound of Rachael’s voice snapped Bruce out of his trance and brought him back to reality. “I’m sorry Rachael,” Bruce blurted, trying to transform himself into a proper host. “Come on in and sit down. Can I get you a drink?” “Yes, please. I’ll have a Black Russian, if you have the makings.” “I think you’re in luck. Have a seat and I’ll be right with you.” Bruce went into the kitchen to fix Rachael’s drink, grateful for the chance to have a few minutes alone. He felt the need to calm himself down and gather his thoughts. Rachael had already proven that she could be cunning and devious and he knew he had to be careful how he approached her. He felt like his orderly life had been derailed and this was his chance to put things back on track, so he couldn’t afford to screw up. He was also pretty sure that he wouldn’t get another opportunity. His hand was shaking as he poured the drink and sat the bottle down firmly on the counter. “Get a grip on yourself,” he said under his breath. “You can handle this. You just have to take charge. This is no different from a sales call. She’s the client and you’re the salesman. Keep the upper hand. Don’t let her set the agenda.” He took a deep breath and finished pouring her drink. When Bruce returned to the living room, he found Rachael curled up cat-like at one end of his sofa. He crossed the room and handed her the drink, all the while forcing himself to maintain eye contact. Many battles have been won by a series of small victories and Bruce was determined not to give in to the urge to look down at her bulging chest. But Rachael’s eyes offered little in the way of a reprieve. They bore an expression of confidence and a look of erotic hunger. They were the eyes of a woman who knew what she wanted and had no doubt in her ability to get it. She reached out and took the glass from Bruce’s hand. “Thank you,” she said, her lips puckering devilishly as they formed the words. “Not a problem,” Bruce said, taking a seat in the easy chair opposite the sofa. He wanted to make it clear from the start that he wasn’t about to let tonight become a repeat performance of the last time they were alone together. He drew in a deep breath and began, jumping in before Rachael had a chance to start the conversation. Take charge. Don’t let her set the agenda. “So . . . Rachael . . . I’m glad you called and decided to drop by. I’ve been thinking that it would be a good idea for us to sit down and talk. We haven’t really had a chance to discuss what happened the other night and I think it’s important that we clear things up so there’s no misunderstand . . . ” “I’m the one who called this meeting, as it were,” Rachael interjected abruptly. “So don’t you think it would make more sense for you to shut up and hear what I have to say.” Totally taken aback, Bruce sat and looked at her in stunned silence. His mouth hung open, frozen in the shape of the last word it had formed before being cut off. Rachael smiled at him politely. “That’s better. You sound so much more intelligent when you aren’t saying anything.” Bruce knew that this was his moment of truth. He had to come back with a snappy retort or all would be lost. But as his mind raced, searching for the words he needed, Rachael shifted in her seat, twisting her body at the waist in a way that made her breasts surge forward like a sensuous, erotic tide. Before he had time to think, his eyes dropped down, drawn helplessly to the sight of Rachael’s breasts as they moved. The motion lasted only a couple of seconds and then his eyes returned to Rachael’s face, but it was already too late. The line had been drawn in the sand and the battle was lost. “I’ve been thinking about the other night myself,” Rachael began, somewhat matter-of-factly, only the look in her eyes letting Bruce know that she was aware of what had just happened. “But before we get into that, I think I should give you a little background.” She paused to take a sip of her drink, making Bruce wait before she went on. “Over the years I’ve had a little trouble hanging on to men. Getting them has never been a problem. I’m attractive enough and having these obviously helps.” She placed her hands on her breasts and slid her palms slowly across the smooth curves of their surface. “It’s always amazed me how the sight of big tits can completely take away a man’s ability to think. It must cut off the oxygen supply to your brains. Or maybe it’s just that all the blood starts running to the wrong head.” Rachael shrugged, suggesting that the explanation wasn’t as important as the result and took another sip of her drink. “Anyway . . . ” she continued, getting on to the point, “the problem is that I’m one of those women who has developed a ravenous sexual appetite. I love sex and I like a lot of it.” She had been watching her drink in her hand, but now she looked Bruce straight in the eye. “You know, you men are funny creatures. You make such a big deal about sex, but you really don’t have much stomach for it. You get horny and then you come . . . and then you lose interest in it. I read in Cosmopolitan once that in North America the average amount of time a couple spends making love is eight and a half minutes. That’s hardly enough time for most women to get wet, but what do you care. Ninety percent of the men I’ve known suffer from premature ejaculation anyway. So for most of you, it’s a strain to last even that long. I, on the other hand, would prefer things to last for about eight and a half hours. To be honest, I’d prefer eight and a half days, but I have to be realistic. You know what they say, start small and work your way up. You have to walk before you run, things like that. “Also, when it comes to sex, I have a decidedly adventurous streak. I like to experiment. Try new things. But that’s another area where most men fail miserably. You all seem to be afraid of experiencing your own sexuality. Probably a fear of discovering some hidden fetish or stumbling over a streak of latent homosexuality. Or maybe you all know instinctively that if you ever let a woman truly unleash the sexual beast that lurks within you, you’d be confronted by something so powerful you’d have no way of controlling it. A force so strong that women could use it to control you. Anyway, the long and the short of it is that whenever I try to get a man to fulfill my sexual desires, he ends up running back to his mommy with his tail between his legs. It’s been a real problem. But since the other night, I’ve begun to think that perhaps I’ve discovered a solution.” Rachael paused to take another sip of her drink. Bruce had been quietly listening to every word. Too much of what Rachael said had been true, and his only reaction was to sit and listen in silence. “I’ve been intrigued by the idea of having a man who isn’t in a position to say no. A man for whom leaving is not an option. After the other night, it occurred to me that you might be that very man.” “Look Rachael,” Bruce jumped in, “I think I can see where this is going and before you start getting any ideas, the answer is no.” Rachael smiled at Bruce, appearing completely unruffled by his defiance. “Let’s not be hasty,” she said sweetly. “As I said, you may find that you’re not really in a position to say no.” “Rachael, I . . . ” “And besides, you haven’t even let me tell you what I have in mind. I think you should hear me out.” Bruce gestured with his hands, inviting her to continue. “Thank you,” she said, accepting his acquiescence. “What I would like is actually quite simple. I want you to be at my beck and call, sexually speaking that is. If I feel like making love, I want you to accommodate me. Any time, day or night - twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. And when we get together, you’ll stay for as long as I need you and indulge me in any sexual act that it takes to fulfill my desires.” “Alright, Rachael,” Bruce said, trying to sound authoritative. “I’ve sat and listened to just about as much as I can take. You’re crazy if you think . . . ” “And if you disappoint me in any way,” Rachael carried on as if Bruce hadn’t spoken, “I’d have no choice but to tell Suzanne about the other night on the couch. I think you might have trouble explaining that little episode to her.” “I’m sorry, Rachael, but this isn’t going to work. I’m not going to sit here and let you blackmail me over this. I’d rather go to Suzanne and tell her what happened myself. I’ll tell her everything, including the fact that it was you who came on to me first. And I won’t leave out the part about you trying to blackmail me after the fact. She’ll understand.” Bruce looked at her, confident that he’d made the right move by calling her bluff. Rachael smiled back, her expression unchanged. “If we accept the premise that you can make Suzanne understand how you ended up having sex with me in my living room, which I still think is highly unlikely, that still doesn’t explain how you’re going to get her to understand why you spent last night in bed with my mother.” Bruce’s stomach flipped over and his face turned crimson red. “How . . . ?” “The next time you want to spend the night somewhere you shouldn’t and not get caught, don’t leave your car parked directly across the street.” “Oh my God!” The words came out like a sigh. He had been so worried about whether or not Rachael had seen his coat in the closet that the idea of her noticing his car never occurred to him. “Kind of complicates things, doesn’t it?” Rachael said, the smug tone of victory in her voice. “Look Rachael, you can’t . . . ” “I can . . . and I will.” Bruce’s heart fell. He had played his hand and been beaten by a full house. “Getting back to what I was saying before, maybe now you’ll agree with me that you’re not really in a position to say no.” Bruce could feel a wave of helpless frustration. The situation seemed to be closing in on him, leaving no way out. He knew that Rachael was right. There was a slim chance at best that he would be able to explain to Suzanne what had happened with Rachael, but there was no way on God’s green earth that he would be able to make her understand how he had ended up spending a night in bed with Lyla. He looked at Rachael as she took a long, slow sip from her drink. She was smiling contentedly, her legs crossed and her breasts calling out to his eyes teasingly, daring him to look down and once again fall under their erotic, hypnotic spell. She was like a dangerous animal that had to be approached with great care. At this point, Bruce knew that he needed to bide his time until he figured out a way to untangle himself from her web. Rachael placed her glass delicately on the coffee table. Having fought off the urge for as long as he could, Bruce’s eyes finally fell to her breasts as she leaned forward. His cock began to tingle uncontrollably as he watched her huge mounds come to rest on her thighs. Her legs pressed into her bosom, deforming its shape and emphasizing the incredible softness of her massive tits. She leaned back in her seat again and smiled at Bruce, letting him know that her actions had not been an accident. “So, do we have an understanding?” she asked. Bruce swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. Was that meant to be a yes?” Rachael asked with an exaggerated, quizzical look on her face. “I couldn’t quite hear you.” Bruce’s mouth had run dry. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen to him. He had tried to make all the right choices, do the right things. He didn’t understand how he had arrived at this moment. He managed to force the word out: “Yes.” “Yes, we have an understanding,” Rachael prompted. Bruce had never felt so powerless in his life. “Yes, we have an understanding,” he repeated. “I suspected that you’d find it in your best interest to see things my way. Now I hope you won’t think me too cynical if I feel the need to put our new arrangement to the test.” The hair began to stand up on the back of Bruce’s neck as apprehension crept up on him. “Stand up.” “I beg your pardon.” “I said, stand up . . . please.” Bruce sat in his chair, hesitating. “If this arrangement is going to work out, it’s important that you understand what I expect,” Rachael said, her tone becoming stern and authoritative, “and I expect to be obeyed. Now for the last time . . . please stand up.” Obediently Bruce rose to his feet. “Now come over here.” He walked across the room and stood in front of Rachael. “Touch your nose.” Bruce gave Rachael a look. “Rachael, this is silly,” he said. “No, this is not silly. This is your life and I suggest you start getting used to it. Now please, touch your nose.” “Okay, fine,” Bruce said, touching the end of his finger to the tip of his nose. “Now, Rachael says touch your toes.” Bruce gave her an I’ll go along with this, but I really don’t see the point kind of shrug and bent over at the waist. His fingertips stopped two or three inches from his feet. “A little out of shape, are we?” Rachael observed. “You’ll have to try harder. Now touch your toes.” Bruce felt his hamstrings stretch painfully as he forced himself over a little further, until the tips of his fingers brushed his shoes. He straightened up and waited. “Now touch your cock. Bruce looked exasperated. “Rachael, I don’t think . . . ” “I’m sorry, that was my mistake,” she said. “Rachael says . . . touch your cock.” For an instant Bruce considered telling her to go to hell, but the consequences loomed too large. Rachael was a loose canon and there was no doubt in his mind that she would follow through on her threats if he didn’t go along. He could feel his cheeks blush with embarrassment as he placed his hand on his crotch. “Rub it for me. Make it big.” Bruce wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, but he felt that he had no choice. He began to rub his hand over his cock. He could feel it growing and stiffening through his pants. He wasn’t sure if it was responding to the pressure from his hand or more from the feeling of domination that the situation was creating. “That’s very good,” Rachael cooed. “I’m starting to think that this arrangement is going to work out quite nicely.” Bruce stopped rubbing himself, assuming that the demonstration was over. “Did I tell you to stop?” Rachael asked, incredulously. “Keep rubbing. I want to watch.” She leaned forward to reach for her drink, once again mashing her breasts against her thighs. The sight caused a surge of pressure in Bruce’s groin, making him feel for an instant like he might cum in his pants. Rachael sat back and sipped her drink, her eyes shifting back and forth between Bruce’s face and his hand as it moved over his crotch. The stimulation of touching himself made the urge to look at Rachael’s breasts totally irresistible. He found himself gazing at them and enjoying the warm erotic glow that they created in his body. Again it occurred to him that he had yet to see them unveiled. By keeping them concealed, Rachael had somehow made them seem mysterious and elusive. Bruce suddenly felt an overwhelmingly powerful urge to see them naked. It frightened him to think that at that moment he would have done anything to see under her sweater. “Get down on your knees,” Rachael said, snapping Bruce out of his reverie . . . and not a moment too soon. The sight of her bosom, combined with the motion of his hand on his crotch, had brought him dangerously close to the edge. He obediently got down on his knees before her. Rachael uncrossed her legs and place both feet on the floor, spreading her thighs apart. “Reach under my skirt and touch my pussy.” She leaned back against the couch, thrusting her pelvis forward to the edge of the seat. Bruce could feel his face flush and his hand quiver as he reached between her legs. He found her crotch and slipped his finger under her panties. “Rub your finger on my clitoris.” Bruce slid his finger between the lips of her pussy. He immediately felt it wet and hot. He’d never felt a woman this wet before, her thick lubricant making his finger slide easily over her sensitive skin. He moved his hand around until he felt her clitoris and then began rubbing it with his finger in slow, gentle circles. “Oh yes, that’s the spot,” Rachael moaned, her voice oozing with the sound of erotic pleasure. “That’s it, baby. Don’t stop!” Bruce kept his finger moving in small circles, gradually pressing harder and moving faster. “Oh God, that feels good,” Rachael exclaimed, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the couch. “Don’t stop, baby . . . don’t stop!” Bruce could feel the muscles in Rachael’s legs and abdomen tighten as things suddenly got a lot wetter. She seemed to be gushing fluid and he could feel it running out onto his hand. The sensation was incredibly erotic. “Oh God! Oh my God!” Rachael began to chant, her voice becoming increasingly louder. She started to gyrate her hips, grinding her ass into the couch in a tight circular motion. Bruce fought to keep his finger on the right spot. Her cunt had gotten so wet that his hand was sliding around uncontrollably. Rachael’s voice crescendoed to a peak and then suddenly dropped two octaves. “Oooohh God!” Her low guttural moan was accompanied by an incredible torrent of fluid that poured out of her, covering Bruce’s hand and running out from between her legs, flowing onto the seat of his sofa. Bruce’s eyes opened wide in horror and disbelief. Disbelief that a woman could ejaculate that much fluid and horror at the mess she had made of his couch. He tried desperately to keep his hand on the right spot as she continued to writhe and moan with pleasure. She suddenly gushed again as her orgasm reached its peak. For an instant her body became rigid as all of her muscles flexed in response to the intensity of her passion. She remained frozen for long seconds, as if time itself had stood still, and then just as suddenly started moving again, once more grinding her as in tight circles. The motion of Rachael’s hips gradually slowed down and the muscles in her legs and abdomen relaxed as the final waves of her climax flowed over her. Her body fell limp and rubbery, sinking into the cushions of the sofa. “That’s enough,” Rachael gasped, grabbing Bruce’s arm and pulling it out from between her legs. She sat slouched back on the couch, the fingertips of one hand moving gently over the peak of her breast as she basked in the afterglow of orgasm. All of her body seemed connected. The gentle tingling in her pussy sent an erotic wave to her crotch where the pounding in her clitoris had tapered off to a gentle throbbing that radiated down her legs. Her eyes were closed and she was completely oblivious to everything around her. Bruce watched her for a long time before rising from his knees. Once standing, he waited for some reaction but got none. She still seemed oblivious to his presence in the room, as one hand rested limply over her pussy while the other continued to make slow circles around her nipple. He stood and watched, his eyes following her hand as it moved and at the same time taking in the incredibly erotic sight of her huge chest as it rose and fell with each breath she took. He looked down at his crotch and saw that he had unconsciously begun to rub his cock again, spurred on by the vision of her massive tits. Realizing what he had been doing, he stopped immediately and looked at Rachael’s face. Her eyes were still closed and she appeared to be a million miles away. Seizing the opportunity, he started towards the bathroom, walking backwards and watching Rachael carefully every inch of the way. With each step, he expected her eyes to bolt open and focus on him like a spotlight in a prison yard bearing down on an escaping convict. She would stop him dead in his tracks and ask him where the hell he thought he was going, pinning him to the floor with her words. He could hear the sound of his own breathing in his ears and felt sure that Rachael would hear it, too. But her eyes remained closed as she bathed in the euphoria of her post-orgasmic glow. After what seemed like a journey of a thousand miles, Bruce reached the bathroom, slipped inside and gently closed the door. Once safely inside, he went to the sink and leaned over it, supporting himself with both hands, one on either side of the basin. His head hung limply from his shoulders. He felt emotionally exhausted and spent. His mind was racing, trying to catch up with everything that had just happened. This meeting was supposed to have been his chance to clear up this problem once and for all, but instead of putting the situation right, things had only gotten worse. In fact, things had gotten much, much worse. He ran the tap and splashed cold water in his face. It hit his skin like a sharp slap, making him feel a little more alert and coherent. He looked at himself in the mirror, deep into his own eyes, while thoughts ran frantically through his mind like a shining metal ball bouncing on a roulette wheel. She’s going to tell Suzanne about the couch. She knows about Lyla. I have to go along. She’s blackmailing me for sex. She saw my car. She knows about Lyla. I have to go along. How am I going to explain this to Suzanne? She wants sex. She knows about Lyla. I have to go along. I have to go along. “How the fuck did I get myself into this mess? he asked his reflection, desperately. “Why is this happening to me?” He took a towel from the rack and dried his face. At this point his choices seemed to be clear. He could defy Rachael, which would be about the same as pouring gasoline on his relationship with Suzanne and striking a match. Or he could go along for now and bide his time until he could figure a way around this situation. Right now Rachael held all the cards, but if he got close enough to her, he might be able to find out something that he could use to hold her at bay. Everyone has secrets, things they would rather not have revealed. Surely there must be something that he could use to counter-blackmail Rachael and return the balance of power to a healthy equilibrium. For now, waiting seemed like the only practical course of action. “Patience is a virtue,” he told his reflection, “and you’re about to find out just how true that saying really is.” When Bruce returned to the living room, Rachael was gone. The couch was empty, except for the large, dark stain that now covered most of the cushion where she had been sitting. A noise drew his attention toward the door and he turned to see Rachael taking her coat from the closet. She looked up at him as he approached, finally acknowledging his presence. “You’re on your way?” Bruce asked. “Yes, I have to be going,” Rachael said as she put on her coat. Bruce couldn’t help but notice how her enormous breasts protruded from her body as she reached back to find the sleeve of her coat. Her position provided a perfect angle from which to fully appreciate the size and shape of her bosom and Bruce could feel a twinge in his groin as his eyes were drawn to it. “But don’t worry,” Rachael continued. “You’ll be hearing from me . . . soon. I have a feeling that this arrangement is going to work out very nicely. And if you happen to be away from your phone for any length of time, be sure to check your messages regularly, because patience is not one of my virtues.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Bruce said flatly. Rachael opened the door and then turned to face Bruce. “It would be a good idea if you do,” she advised. She threw Bruce one last condescending smile, stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind her. And with that, she was gone.
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