“And she definitely took an instant dislike to you in particular, Jake,” Sharon said. “Did you see the looks she was giving you whenever you spoke to her?”
“I saw them,” he confirmed. “Not sure what I did to earn them, but that was beyond your normal stink eye by a factor of five.”
“Maybe even six,” Nerdly suggested.
“Why would she dislike Jake so much?” Mary asked. “He did nothing to bring that on.”
“Well ... actually,” Ben said, “she already had a big case of dislike for Jake before she even walked in here. It’s a combination of your ... you know ... your reputation and the fact that you make heavy metal music. She doesn’t approve of either.”
Jake shook his head. “I swear to God,” he said. “You sniff cocaine out of a girl’s butt crack one time, and you’re condemned for life.”
“I thought you said you didn’t do that, Jake,” Mary said.
“Of course I didn’t, Mom,” Jake assured her. “Just making another point.” He turned back to Ben. “She does realize that she’s going to have to work closely with me if she wants this gig, right?”
“I think she’s starting to realize that,” Ben said. “Like I said, give her a little time. She really is a nice person. This is all just new to her.”
Jake gave another shrug. “I’ve made my feelings known,” he said. “I don’t like her and I don’t think she’s going to be able to work with us. It’s not my decision to make though. It’s Celia’s tunes she’s going to be working on. It’s her call.”
Everyone looked over at her. She gave a soft smile. “I’ll give her a chance,” she said. “Right now, she’s all we got, right?”
They all had to agree with that.
Laura was still fuming about the whole phrasing thing when she got home just before noon. Flat? she kept thinking. No one had ever referred to any music she produced as flat since her fifth grade music teacher during her first year of playing the instrument. How dare they? Those unsophisticated pop icons. They sell a few million records to the unschooled and unsophisticated masses and they think they’re maestros or something. But still, she had a well-paying gig in hand. That was at least something to be grateful for. She had filled out a W4 form and everything and they really were going to pay her fifty dollars an hour for twenty-four hours a week of playing their drivel for them. Maybe she was selling out, but at least she was getting a good price for it.
No sooner had she gotten into the house and put her horn away than she heard a key turning in the lock on her apartment door. Since Phil was asleep in his bedroom, she knew her visitor could only be Dave making one of his lunchtime visits. Though she knew what he was here for—it was what he always came over for during lunch—her mood improved considerably. Her fiancé was here! And she had news to share with him.
The door opened and Dr. David Boulder DDS came strolling in as if he owned the place. He was a short, stocky man with the beginnings of middle age swell developing in his abdomen. This was primarily because he was just entering middle age. He had just turned forty-seven a month before and his face showed his age quite well, with a few tracks of crow’s feet around his eyes and a noticeable sagging in his chin. His hair was speckled with gray and his hairline was receding quite dramatically. Laura didn’t care, not about the age difference and not about the hairline or his looks. He was her man and she loved him with all her heart.
“Hi, doc!” she greeted happily, trotting over to him and putting her arms around him.
“Hey, Red,” he greeted back, calling her the term of endearment he’d assigned at the beginning of their relationship. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, angling his face down to kiss her. A moment later, his tongue was in her mouth, swirling with hers.
“Mmmm,” she said with breathlessness that was quite feigned when the kiss broke. “I guess someone is a little hungry for lunch, right?”
“You know it, baby,” Dave told her, his hands going down and getting a good squeeze of her butt. “Let’s go dine, shall we?”
She giggled and tried to pull out of his embrace. “We’ll dine in a minute,” she said. “First, I need to tell you something.”
“Tell me later,” he said, refusing to let go of her. “Is Phil around?”
“He’s sleeping,” she said.
“Damn,” he said. “I was hoping to do it on the couch. Oh well, let’s go hit the bedroom.”
“I got a gig playing my sax,” she told him as he dragged her toward her bedroom.
“That’s nice,” he said. “I can’t wait to hear you play.” His hand cupped her left breast through her shirt. “Goddamn, I love these little titties of yours.”
“Dave,” she said, exasperated as he shut the door behind them. They were in her room now, standing at the foot of her neatly made bed. “They’re going to pay me twelve hundred dollars a week for this gig. Can you believe that?”
He whistled appreciably but did not unhand her. “That’s pretty good money,” he said. He took her hand and put it on his crotch. She could feel the swelling of his member throbbing beneath his dental scrubs. “Can you feel how happy I am for you?”
“I feel something,” she said with a giggle.
“Why don’t you taste it?” he asked, his fingers going to the drawstring on his scrubs and giving a pull. The tie came undone and the scrubs fell to the floor, leaving him standing in a pair of white briefs that were bulging out quite alarmingly.
With a mental sigh, she resigned herself to what was to come. He was in the mood and he wasn’t going to listen to anything she said until his lust was slaked. Might as well get it over with, she thought. Then we’ll talk.
She sank to her knees before him and pulled his briefs down to his ankles, letting his drill bit spring free. It was swollen and throbbing, four and a half solid inches, ready for action. She took it in her mouth and began to slurp and suck on it softly. This was not an act she particularly enjoyed, but it gave him pleasure so she did it willingly and often. She only hoped he didn’t want to finish in her mouth today. She did not really enjoy the taste or consistency of his semen.
He put his left hand in her hair and then drove his right hand down into her blouse, forcing two of the buttons to pop before he was able to squirm down under her bra and cup her breast. He began to squeeze the nipple between his thumb and index finger. She moaned around his cock, not because it felt good—it actually kind of hurt—but because she knew it was expected of her.
“Damn, I love your tits,” Dave panted. “Yeah, baby. Suck that dick. You really know how to give head.”
“Mmm hmm,” she hummed, her right hand going to the base of it and starting a slow, jacking motion. If he meant to come in her mouth, this would make short work of him.
But he didn’t want to come in her mouth today. After only a few strokes, he pulled his hand out of her bra and pulled her up by her armpits. “Get those pants off, baby,” he told her. “I want to bury myself in the fire!”
She kicked off her shoes and then unbuttoned her pants. She pushed them and her panties down and stepped out of them, baring her untrimmed nest of copper colored pubic hair to his lustful gaze. Though she preferred to keep herself trimmed down there, Dave liked a natural hairy bush on his women and seemed to have a particular fetish for the color of hers. It was but a small price to pay for love.
“Oh yeah, baby,” he said, nearly drooling at the sight of her pubes—the fire of which he spoke. “Go get a rubber and let’s do this thing.”
“Right,” she said, stepping over to the nightstand beside the bed. In the drawer was a large box of condoms from the drugstore—a fifty pack that she had bought a few months ago and that was now nearly half empty. It was her responsibility to supply the rubbers for their noontime trysts. For obvious reasons, he could not keep them at his place.