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I squint down at the torn piece of paper Klaus had shoved in my coat pocket earlier in the day. When I look up at the gray, brick building in front of me, I frown before turning back to the paper.
“15…” I mutter out loud to myself. “What the fuck, Klaus…there is no building 15…”
I peer up at my surroundings again. I’m on the City Community Center campus where there are about six identical looking, nondescript buildings, but none with the number 15 on them.
“Maybe he means room 15?” I wonder aloud again. I sigh and crumple the piece of paper into a ball and throw it into the nearest trash bin. “Fucking Klaus. I don’t know why I thought he could perform a simple task of getting an address correct.”
Glancing at my watch and seeing that the class I am supposed to be attending with my niece starts in three minutes, I decide to take a chance and I enter the building named “Fine Arts And Music” because that seems to make the most sense. Claire had asked Klaus and I to come to her painting class for some unknown reason, and since I’m a sucker for anything my nieces or nephew ask of me, I accepted the invitation without question. I figured I could go and paint a fucking butterfly or some shit and still make it to the bar where I told Derek I’d meet him for drinks.
Inside, it looks just the same as any other dull community center building, with a long hallway lined with closed classroom doors. I start my way down, reading the signs taped or stenciled on the frosted glass windows.
“Jazz Appreciation…no fucking thanks…Modern Dance…kill me…Shakespearean Theater…better, but not what I’m looking for…” I see a class across the hall with the words “Painting” scrawled across a lined piece of notebook paper and taped to the door. The top part of the paper has curled down, but I’m in a hurry so I figure this has to be it since I see no other classes pertaining to art and I enter the room, closing the door behind me.
Because I am already late, I don’t really take in my surroundings in too much detail, I just hastily look around the room for Claire or Klaus. Not seeing either of them, I turn to head out again. At that moment, however, a very stern looking, very old, gray-haired woman with a tight bun on top of her head and a pinched mouth cuts me off, locking the door before I can get my hand on the knob.
“No exiting the classroom once you are inside,” she tells me with a sour expression.
“Yeah, I’m not really in this class, I was looking for–”
“It is a very resolute rule that we have and it is in place for the safety and privacy of our models and students.”
I clear my throat, trying to tamp down my annoyance. “That’s great, but as I just said, I am not actually supposed to be in this class, I am trying to find—”
“And as I said, young man, there are rules for a reason. Once you are in the classroom, you may not leave until the class is over. So, why don’t you take a seat and we can start since you have already wasted one full minute of my time, as well as the class’s, with your rudeness.”
With my mouth open to bark out a retort, I happen to look out of the corner of my eye to see the entire classroom of people glaring at me. When I turn my attention back to the angry woman, she is blocking the door with her bony body as she points a skeletal finger in the direction of an empty seat behind me.
“Sit,” she orders.
For what has to be the millionth time since my father’s bullshit reset of the universe, I grit my teeth together and flex my fists at my side, trying my damndest to regain even a flicker of my past powers. But with no handy blinking ability, it appears I am stuck. I briefly consider punching Professor McGonnegal here in her wrinkled old face, but decide against it. If I get thrown in jail for assaulting a senior citizen, I won’t be able to blink out of there, either. At least here, I can be out in half an hour
“Fine,” I hiss before turning and walking to the empty seat I was assigned to. I notice the chairs and desks in front of them are set up in a large circle with a small platform in the middle. I take my overcoat off and hang it on the back of the chair before rolling up my sleeves to my elbows and taking a seat. On the desk in front of me, just the same as everyone else’s, is a large spiral sketchbook and a small assortment of drawing pencils. I don’t bother opening the book or picking up a pencil. I plan on getting in a quick nap and maybe plot out Klaus’s demise in my head.
With my arms folded across my chest and one leg crossed over the other, I lean back in my chair while The Crypt Keeper begins her lesson.
“Welcome to Advanced Figurative Painting. As I am sure most of you know, since you have taken our beginning and intermediate classes before, this class is a full sixty minutes and we will be working the entire time.”
“An hour?” I blurt out incredulously, not even registering what the name of the class is called.
The woman narrows her eyes in my direction and a few of the others turn their heads, too, but everyone goes back to ignoring me and she continues on.
“During our full hour, we will practice drawing the human form using pencils and charcoals. Once the basic form is finished, we will tackle the painting portion next week. If you have any questions or need assistance, please raise your hand and I will come to you.”
“Fucking fantastic,” I murmur sarcastically right before Dragon Lady steps to the back of the room. A side door, different from the main one I entered through, opens.
In walks quite possibly the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. She is probably around my same physical age of twenty one, with thick dark hair that is braided and draped over her shoulder, and deep brown eyes framed in long black lashes. She is wearing a silk wrap that covers her entire body and she is not wearing any makeup that I can tell. Her natural beauty is so apparent, though, that I can’t imagine her looking any better than she already does. I sit up a little taller in my chair as she walks into the circle of desks and stands on the platform. I notice she is barefoot and she does not address the class at all.
Before I can even understand what is happening, she unties her wrap and removes it entirely, setting it neatly on a chair behind her. She is completely nude underneath and I suck in an audible gasp that is too late to take back before I get a few side-eyes in my direction. No one else seems to be reacting to this amazingly hot and naked woman standing in our midst, and she does not appear to be fazed in the slightest.
I watch in awe as everyone around me opens their sketchbooks without a word and starts drawing. I don’t do either of those things because I can’t stop staring with my mouth hanging open like a goddamn fish at this gorgeous sight before me.
I’m not going to lie. I’m not what you would call “experienced” in the ways of women, but I have perused my fair share of dirty magazines and other forms of naked lady entertainment, so I am no stranger to the feminine body. I have to say, though, this one is in the top ten. She is on the taller side and statuesque, with large round breasts that are only slightly paler than the rest of her body. Her olive skin looks silky smooth as my eyes slowly make their way down, taking in the dark pink areolas and pert nipples before traveling over her soft stomach to the prominent curves of her hips. I am drawn further south to the faint, narrow strip of downy hair that is situated between her supple thighs. When her eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, my face immediately starts burning.
As I am trying to comprehend what the hell is going on and how I got myself into this predicament in the first place, I nearly jump out of my skin when the walking corpse that is the art teacher raps a sharp fingernail on my closed sketchbook.
“All students must be actively drawing. This is not a peep show, young man!”
My face burns even hotter as a few other “artists” turn my way, as well as the beautiful woman I can’t stop staring at. Because she is the model, she is holding a pose with her head turned just slightly away from me, but I see her eyes flit in my direction and I’m not sure but I think I see the tiniest smile form at the corner of her luscious looking mouth.
“Jesus, alright!” I exclaim loudly as I angrily grab a pencil and flip open the book. “Get off my back, lady!”
I may have imagined the small smile on the model, but I definitely didn’t imagine the quiet giggle I heard from her, aimed in my direction. The old bag standing next to me purses her wrinkly lips together but she walks away without another word. I am left holding a charcoal pencil loosely in my left hand, hovering it over the sketchbook as I continue blinking up at the flawless, nude body in front of me.
The more I am transfixed by this beauty, the more my body is starting to react. Not only is my face flushed and I can’t stop swallowing the saliva pooling in my mouth, I begin to feel the unfortunate, but all too familiar, beginnings of a boner coming on.
No. Please, no. No no no no no no no….fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
Having a body that is much younger than your mind has its perks, but this is not one of them. However, I can hardly blame overactive hormones on this. If I were back in my fourteen or fifteen year-old body, then sure; that’s a given. But twenty one? That’s just pathetic. Yeah, I may be young and my dick is quick to react, but this is a bit overboard. It’s just more evidence of the sad fact that I am under-experienced, over-sexed, and pitifully touch-starved.
Like a fucking dweeb, I hurriedly uncross my legs and scoot my chair in closer to the desk, trying to play it off like I am suddenly extremely interested in the seriousness of this class. I turn my focus to the open sketchbook in front of me, scrunching my brow in apparent concentration. I try desperately to tune out the woman standing in front of me, but my dick seems to have other ideas. I can smell the subtle waft of her perfume as I hear her shuffle into a new position on the platform.
When I glance up again, she has turned so that her amazingly, ridiculously perfect ass is now directly in my line of sight. I want to whine out loud like some sort of wounded, dying animal because that’s what I feel like right now.
Why? Have I not suffered enough in my life? Is the universe really this cruel?
If I were to stand up, I would look like the biggest fucking creep in the world. Why don’t I just get a trenchcoat and hang out at the bus stop to ogle every woman that walks by? I clench my eyes shut for just a moment to try, unsuccessfully, to calm the offending monster in my tailored suit pants. Forced to face the fact that I am stuck with this problem, at least for the foreseeable future, I pass a hand over my face and check to see that no one is looking at me. With the coast clear, I reach back to grab my coat off the back of the chair and subtly as possible, drape it over my lap.
For the next fifty five minutes I am in hell. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life, and that’s saying a lot. I try not to look, but she’s right fucking there, and it’s a constant torture that I can’t block out. I would give anything to have my powers back right now so I could blink out of here and go jerk off somewhere in peace. But no…I’m stuck here with my dick so hard I’m afraid if I move at all the friction from my tight pants is going to set me off and then I’ll be in even bigger trouble. Because as much as I don’t need anyone here noticing the giant boner I’m sporting, I really don’t need to be the guy that comes in his pants.
I pretend I’m drawing her, hunched over my sketchbook like I’m really into this art stuff, mainly so I don’t attract anymore attention to the angry teacher. While I do my best to make it look like I’m working, I can’t resist frequent glances at the model. She has turned multiple times so that the entire class can see every angle, and right now she is facing me straight on. I try to focus on her face and not her tits or the curves of her thighs. If I look directly at her face maybe it will stop me from imagining my hands gripping her hips and burying my face in between her legs. It doesn’t and I shift very carefully in my seat.
She is watching me, I’m almost positive. Everytime I look up, my eyes meet her clear hazel ones, and I’m starting to think it’s not an accident on her part. I can’t hold her gaze for long before I’m looking back down in apparent concern over my drawing of her. But I can still feel her eyes on me and I can’t decide if I like it or not.
Finally, the class starts coming to a close. The walking corpse starts telling everyone to put their drawing materials down and the model begins to slip her robe on again. I am dying to get out of here, but I still have the unfortunate issue of a full-mast erection going on, so I continue to sit and think about how fucked my life is. People start to file out and I see the model talk briefly to the teacher. While she is talking, though, she steals another glance at me. And there is definitely a smile this time. I’m not sure what to do with that, but I like it. I smile back, pretending I am not at all a disgusting, perverted old man with a giant woody in his pants just from looking at a naked lady.
I decide to make a break for it. I leave my sketchbook with my crude drawing on my desk, put my overcoat on, close it as tightly as I can around myself with my hands in the pockets, and bolt for the door. I look at my watch on the way out of the building. I’m supposed to meet Derek in five minutes, but he’s going to have to wait because I can’t exactly show up there in the state I’m in and I have given up hope that this is going to resolve itself naturally.
Walking at a very brisk pace with my coat still pulled closed over my junk, I head towards my apartment two blocks away. On the way there I can’t stop thinking about that woman. I don’t even know why I am so obsessed with her, but I am. I’ve been to strip clubs and I’ve watched my fair share of porn, so it’s not like she’s the first naked female body I’ve ever seen. But something about the way she held herself so confidently in a room full of strangers while completely nude has captivated me.
When I arrive at home, I am barely through the door before I’m throwing my coat onto the floor and clawing at my fly to get it open. I have never been so hard in my life and all I can think about is getting my hand on my dick. I head straight for my miniscule bathroom, shove my pants down, and brace myself with one hand on the wall behind the toilet. It’s quite possibly the most disgusting place I could be doing this, but I don’t care. Time is of the essence and I need the clean up to be quick.
I whip my cock out of my briefs and start going at it hard. My eyes are tightly closed as I picture everything I am dying to do to that woman. I want to touch every part of her; run my tongue over her tits and stomach, and lick up into her pussy. I want to bend her over and shove my dick deep inside of her and fuck her until she is seeing stars. I want to hear her calling out my name when I make her come and I want to feel her warm body tremble in my arms.
These thoughts are getting more and more graphic as I continue to jerk off as fast as I can, dragging my hand over my dick as I breathe hard and make involuntary grunting noises with the effort. In my mind I’ve got her pinned beneath me, legs spread wide as I pound relentlessly into her and bury my face in her neck while she moans loudly.
I feel myself start to climax and I grit my teeth together, exploding with thick ropes of cum that I forget to try and aim into the open toilet, so some of it ends up on my hand, and some ends up on the wall. As I slow my pace and try to catch my breath, I smile with the relief of finally getting that out of my system. Of course I still feel like a massive pervert and I know I must look like a total asshole with my pants around my ankles and my cum dripping down the bathroom wall.
After I shove my shrinking dick back into my underwear and pull my pants up again, I grab a washcloth to clean up the offending mess I’ve made. When I’m at the sink washing my hands, it’s nearly impossible to look at myself in the mirror, I’m so ashamed. But I take a quick glance, fix my hair as best I can, and turn to leave.
When I walk into the bar, it’s dim but not crowded since it’s a Thursday. I spot Derek sitting on a stool at the bar with a half-finished drink in his hand. I already know what it is because he only orders the same drink every single time, and that’s a vodka and soda with a twist of lime. But not too much of a twist, or else he’ll send it back. He’s kind of a high maintenance dick like that.
“Good evening, Agent Five, glad you could make it,” he says with that irritating smirk on his face.
“Fuck off,” I tell him as I sit on the stool next to him. “And knock it off with the Agent shit, alright? It stopped being funny about two months ago.”
“Oh… little sensitive are we?”
“No, I’m not sensitive. I’m just not an agent anymore, so don’t call me one.”
Derek nods before taking a sip of his drink. “You know, you might consider apologizing. You never know; maybe you can get your position back.”
I snort out a laugh, gesturing to the bartender so I can order my own drink. “I’m not sure an apology is going to do the trick. They don’t exactly make a greeting card for punching your superior in the face after calling him a brainless fuck stick. And I’m not allowed on CIA property anymore, remember?” The bartender approaches us. “Can I get a single malt, neat? Thanks.”
“I agree that’s a tough one, but you know you were the best agent they had. They still talk about you.”
I shake my head. “Even if they did take me back, I wouldn’t even want the job anymore. I’m not sure why I even took it in the first place; I hated every minute of it. I’ve been answering to people my whole life…I just can’t do it anymore.”
“Hence the punch to the boss’s face.”
My drink comes and I hold it up in a toasting gesture. “Correct.” I take a sip of the scotch. It burns and tastes delicious on the way down.
Derek laughs and shakes his head at me. It’s true I lost my temper and clocked my asshole boss after about six months of working at the CIA. I had trained and applied for the position out of sheer boredom and desperation for some sort of stimulation after being stranded in this timeline with no powers. That, and I wanted the personal challenge of becoming the youngest agent (they thought) that had ever been hired. I should have known, though, that I could never work there. The minute I had to take orders from some dickbag that was technically ten years younger than me, I was done. I lasted a few more months, but I just couldn’t do it. The minute I was reminded to call him “sir”, I snapped.
I did meet Derek while I was there, though. He’s a sarcastic, arrogant, irritating little shit and I liked him immediately. We get along pretty well and it’s nice to have a friend I can talk candidly with. I have my family, but I don’t like to talk too much about my personal life with them, and they all have their own issues going on anyway.
“So, why were you late, out of curiosity? It’s not like you to not be punctual.”
I sigh heavily and take another drink. “I had something I needed to take care of.”
Derek raises his eyebrows in curiosity. “Like a dead body?”
“I wish. That would have been simpler. No, something a little more intimate.”
“I’m not following you.”
I have no idea why I feel the need to tell him about the public boner incident, but I do. “You ever get a raging hard-on in public?”
Derek almost chokes on his lime slice. “What? You mean like now or when I was thirteen?”
“Now.”
“Uh…no, can’t say that I have. Well, I guess there was that one time at that club when some guy was dry humping me from behind. But that didn’t last long because we hooked up in the bathroom five minutes later.”
Oh, and Derek is a giant slut. “Well, unfortunately for me, I didn’t get that luxury today. I accidentally stumbled into a nude art class earlier and holy shit, you should have seen this woman model. It was immediate boner city and I had to sit there for an entire hour with my dick trying to rip through my pants.”
He laughs. “How the hell do you accidentally wind up in a nude art class?”
“It’s a long story that involves me wanting to murder Klaus.”
“Ah.”
“Anyway, the reason I’m late is because once I got out of there…”
“You had to race home to take care of Captain Woody?”
I nod with my glass halfway to my mouth. “Precisely.”
“I hope you washed your hands.”
I cock one eyebrow at him. “I did, but there might be a few splatters on my pants if you’re that hard up for another guy’s jizz.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not my type.”
“I have a dick…I’m your type,” I retort dryly.
“So, are you going back to the class to find this woman?” he asks, ignoring my previous comment.
“No way. She probably saw me being a fucking weirdo and thinks I’m a pervert. I can’t show my face back there, again.”
“Well, you should be trying to get some action that isn’t in the form of your hand, you know. You deserve to have a relationship with someone. And you’re much too hot to be single.”
“I thought I wasn’t your type.”
“Fuck off, I’m serious. You need to get out there and find someone. Even if it’s just someone willing to play with your dick for an hour or so.”
I snort out a laugh. “I am out there! It’s just…” I take a drink of my scotch. “It’s complicated.”
“Look, Five, as much as I know you are an absolute bastard, I also know you are a romantic at heart. And you deserve to find someone special. Someone that can stand to put up with your stubborn ass and see you for who you really are.”
“Shit, Derek, if you keep talking like that I’m going to start catching feelings for you.” He rolls his eyes at me. “No, I appreciate what you’re saying, thank you. And maybe one day I’ll meet someone, but I don’t know. I might be destined to walk the world alone.”
“You’re not alone, Five.”
“Are you hitting on me, Agent? Because if so…I’m flattered but I’m not quite that desperate yet.”
“God, you are a massive, massive asshole, you know that?”
I nod. “Yeah, I know.” I gesture to the bartender again. “Another round for my friend, here. On me.”
*******************************************************************
It’s a week later and I find the actual location of Claire’s art class. It turns out there is a “Youth Arts” building directly next to the one I so unfortunately entered before. Which would have been a nice detail to have, Klaus , so thanks for that. I sit next to my niece and paint what I think is a pretty good landscape piece on my canvas and listen as she chats about school and her life. I love these little moments with her, because it reminds me of all the things I missed out on over the years, but have a chance to get back now. She also doesn’t judge me like her mother and my other siblings do, which is a nice break from the usual family get-togethers. I always feel like I’m under a big fucking spotlight with them. Like they are just eyeing me up, waiting for the right opportunity to ask “Are you ok?” “Do you need anything?” “So…are you seeing anyone?”
But Claire is bright and smart, and actually pretty funny. She doesn’t see me for who I really am, which is an old man who has no idea how to navigate life. She only sees me as her mildly abrasive uncle that will listen quietly as she talks, laughs at her jokes, and buys her overly-expensive gifts on her birthday. She and Klaus are definitely closer given the circumstances, but we have our own thing, too. She’s a good kid and it’s about damn time someone in this family turned out half-way decent.
On the way out of the classroom, I am busy looking at Claire’s canvas that she is holding up for me while walking, and I don’t see the woman I almost run over in the process. In the collision, I drop my own canvas, and I bend over to pick it up. When I right myself again, I find I am staring into a beautiful pair of hazel eyes.
It’s her. The nude model from the art class and I want to die. I’m very sure my face is bright red as she looks at me and smiles.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, as though she were the dumbass that wasn’t looking where they were going and not the other way around. Then she pauses and tilts her head to the side. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”
She is just as beautiful as when I saw her before, even with her clothes on. She is wearing a fitted, green sweater and tight jeans. Her hair that was braided before is now loose and wavy, hanging down her back in a satiny sheet. It looks like she has applied a small amount of eye makeup and some light lipstick. She is absolutely gorgeous and my mouth is suddenly as dry as the desert.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so,” I croak out.
She continues trying to place where she knows me from. “No, I swear I’ve seen you before.” Yet again, I am cursing my lack of ability to disappear into thin air when she gasps with recognition. “I know! You were at the figurative painting class the other day!”
I try to lick my parched lips but my tongue is just as dry. “Uh…oh…yeah, I guess I was.”
She laughs. “I know, it’s awkward, right?” She seems like she wants to elaborate on the fact that I have seen her completely naked, but she notices Claire standing next to me and is more vague. “But don’t worry, I’m not bothered by it.”
I nod slowly like a fucking idiot because I’ve suddenly forgotten how to form words. “Ok.”
“Yeah,” she says, looking at me thoughtfully. “You were the one getting in trouble, right?”
More nodding. “Yeah.” I clear my throat in an attempt to converse with her. “I don’t think that lady likes me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be too worried about it. She doesn’t like anyone, the old bag.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise and then I laugh. “Good to know it’s not just me, then.”
The woman smiles again, this time just a little smirk. “I certainly hope you enjoyed the class, despite all of that. Especially the subject matter?”
I almost drop my canvas on the floor again. Is this woman really flirting with me? I try to pull myself together so that I might come across as marginally cool. “I did. Immensely,” I tell her with my own half-smile as I hold out my hand. “Five Hargreeves. Nice to meet you.”
She clasps my hand in hers and of course it’s soft and warm, just like I imagined when I was violently beating off to her the other day. “Nice to meet you, Five. I’m Isabella.”
Fuck, even her name is sexy.
As I am contemplating what panty-dropping line I’m going to wow her with next, Claire shuffles on her feet next to me and I suddenly remember she is there, too.
“Oh, sorry. Isabella, this is Claire, my niece.”
She shakes Claire’s hand as well. Then she tilts her head to the side in thought. “Hargreeves…”
“No relation!” Claire and I both blurt out at the same time in a knee-jerk response to anything related to Reginald.
“Oh, ok…” Isabella responds, the wrinkles between her eyes forming with adorable confusion.
We stand there for another few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. I can’t stop picturing what I know she looks like naked and then in turn, picturing all of the things I wish I were doing to her at that very moment. I have to get out of there before this takes a very bad turn.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say, raking a hand through my hair. “I have to take her home, now.”
Claire and I turn to leave, but then I hear her speak up. “Wait, Five?”
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to keep hearing my name from someone else this much before, and I turn around to face her.
“Would you like to have drinks sometime?”
I think I might just fall on the floor in a boneless heap, but I try very hard not to look like a total fool. I give her a crooked smile and nod. “I’d like that, yes.”
“Great!” She reaches into her purse that is flung over her shoulder and rummages around until she finds a pen and paper. She scribbles something on it and hands it over. “Here’s my number. Call me, ok?” Then she smiles at Claire and I again before turning around and walking down the hall.
When I don’t stop staring for a more-than-normal amount of time, Claire nudges me in the arm. “Uncle Five? Are we going?”
“What?”I say, startled out of my daydream. “Oh, yeah, sure.” I look down at the piece of paper I had been handed. It’s her phone number and she has written “Isabella” with a little heart next to it. The giant grin on my face is ridiculous.
Claire giggles. “I think she likes you.”
“Do you?” I ask, genuinely curious. I figure kids these days have a better pulse on social cues than I ever had or ever will.
My niece rolls her eyes. “Obviously. She was totally flirting with you.”
“Was she?” I ask again, still not quite believing all of this to be true.
She breathes out a very dramatic huff and there’s another big eye roll. “Wow, Uncle Five, you are not good at this. Yesss…she’s totally into you.”
“Oh,” I state simply, glancing at the phone number again. “Nice.”
Claire laughs again and I follow her out, feeling like I’m floating on air right now, but also trying not to freak out because I have no fucking clue what I am doing.
****************************************************************
After one slightly awkward but pleasant phone conversation, Isabella (or Bella as she told me to call her) and I have a date set for drinks and dinner. When the call is over, I immediately dial up Derek in a panic.
“WHAT DID I JUST DO?!” I yell into the phone as soon as he picks up.
When I calm down enough to explain what I’m talking about, he walks me through the general steps of dating a living, breathing woman. Most of them I think I can handle. Be cordial, listen, don’t be a creep, etc. I’m about to hang up when he adds one more piece of advice.
“Better jerk it beforehand.”
“Excuse me?”
“In case things go well. You don’t want to be all pent up and then blow your load the second she touches your dick.”
“I highly doubt it’s going to go that far on the first date.”
I can practically hear the shrug and shit-eating grin over the phone. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
While I’m showering before my date, I am nervous but I keep telling myself that it’s not a big deal. It’s probably not going to lead to anything, but it will at least be good practice should anything more serious present itself in the future. Then I start thinking about if things do go well, and…shit, here I am again with the same problem quite literally on my hands. I take Derek’s advice and rub one out while I’m in there, hoping that will be enough to stave off any unforeseen problems that may pop up later.
I shave and add a little cologne before putting on my best three-piece suit. It’s a little more tailored than the ones I used to wear during my stint at the CIA. A good tailor is essential to the fit and mine does not miss. According to Klaus, I am “a snack” whenever I wear this particular one, and I’ve heard that’s a good thing. I finish knotting my silk tie in the mirror and slip on my polished dress shoes before shrugging on my suit coat. Maybe it’s a bit overboard, but I feel comfortable when I’m wearing a suit. I can think clearer. I am more confident. And I need all the confidence I can get.
When I arrive at the restaurant where we agreed to meet, I walk in the place and look around. I spot Bella over by the bar and I am so awestruck that I stand there for a second to take her in. She isn’t looking at me, but rather chatting with the bartender about something, so I take the opportunity to watch her. She is dressed in a short, tight black dress that shows off all of her amazing curves. The tall boots she is wearing come all the way up to her knees. Her silky black hair is pinned up on one side and is hanging down in waves on the other. She is breathtakingly beautiful.
I am jolted back to life when someone walks by me, jostling me with their elbow, and I start to make my way towards her. When she sees me, I’m not sure but I think she might be blushing.
“Hi,” she says with a big smile, looking me up and down.
“Hello. Have you been here long?”
“No, not at all. Just in time to order a drink for myself. I wasn’t sure what you liked, sorry.”
I take a seat next to her, trying to hide my nervousness. “That’s ok.You look amazing, by the way.”
She smiles and looks down, embarrassed. “Thank you. So do you. You smell amazing, too.”
I am getting a little boost to my ego over that, and I find I’m sitting up a little straighter. “What are you drinking?”
“Red wine.”
I nod and take a look at the small wine menu on the bartop. Normally I would order whatever whiskey they have but I like a good red wine, too. I flag the bartender over. “I’ll have a glass of the Vietti Borolo Castiglione please.”
I notice the bartender, who is male and had looked annoyed when I’d come to sit down, glance over at Bella longingly before walking away to get my drink. This may be our first date, but I feel that little spark of territorialism ignite inside me.
“Wow,” she says. “The way you pronounced the name of that wine…do you speak Italian?”
“I do, actually. That and about seven other languages.” I cringe internally, thinking I probably sound like an arrogant asshole, so I try and breeze past that. “What about you? Isabella sounds Italian.”
She nods. “I’m named after my grandmother, but I never learned the language myself. You must be pretty smart if you know that many languages.”
“Depends on the day,” I say with a smirk and she laughs. Her laugh is light and airy and I immediately melt at the sound of it.
“And what about you? Are you Italian as well?”
My wine comes and I give the bartender a little nod and a smile which he does not return. “Irish, actually.”
“Really? That’s surprising. Wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“Me either,” I say earnestly, and I wasn’t trying to be funny but she laughs anyway.
“Well, either way. The Italian thing is sexy, that’s for sure.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”
She nods again and wets her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue before taking a drink of her wine. “Oh yeah. A real turn on.”
I don’t know why, but when I catch the eye of the jealous bartender standing over at the side with his arms crossed over his chest, I feel the return to my old self come rushing back. Confident. Clear-headed. Focused.
“Well,” I say, turning my body so that my leg brushes against hers. I take a drink of my own glass, but I don’t let my eyes leave hers. “That is very good to know. Grazie.”
She giggles and I definitely see a faint blush on her cheeks, which just fuels my ego even more.
“So, Bella, what made you get into your line of work?”
“The nude modeling?”
I nod.
“Oh, that’s just my side gig. I’m actually a high school math teacher.”
“Shit!” I say, much too loudly before I quiet my voice again. “I mean, those poor boys in your class.”
She laughs, big and loud this time, tipping her head back and flashing her straight, white teeth. “Yeah, they don’t exactly know what I do on the side. The parents might have an issue with that. I try to keep the nude modeling on the down-low.”
“Something tells me the dads of your kids wouldn’t mind so much.”
She taps me on the knee and my thigh flexes in response. “You’re funny. Seriously, they all think I’m a big bore.”
“Yeah, I highly doubt that. I bet they all have crushes on you.”
“Why? Did you have a crush on one of your teachers in high school?”
She says this in a very flirty way and yet I still can’t help shuddering a bit. “Ah…no. I went to a very private school, so there weren’t a lot of hot teachers.” I smile. “Unfortunately.”
“Hmm…I see. Well, to answer your question, I only do the nude modeling for the money. I’m very free with my body, so it doesn’t bother me and it’s easy cash.”
I want to say something gross and creepy, but I refrain. “That’s great,” I say instead.
“And what do you do, Five?”
“I’m an ex-CIA agent, but right now I’m just playing the stock market and acting as babysitter to my six siblings.”
“Six? Wow. Are they young?”
I shake my head, taking another drink. “No, older than me, actually.”
She pauses and then starts laughing again, leaning forward to put a hand on my leg. “Sexy and funny. I like that.”
“Sexy, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” Bella answers breathily, squeezing my knee and making it jerk before pulling her hand back. The smile she is giving me is playful and exciting and thank god the wine has loosened me up a little bit so I’m not having to hide another tent in my pants.
I make sure my leg brushes against hers again, this time very obviously and I let it linger there. With my own flirtatious smile, I answer, “Ci prendiamo un tavolo?”
I hear her suck in a sharp breath and she bites at her bottom lip a little. “What does that mean?”
I raise one eyebrow, standing up and holding out my hand. “Shall we get a table?”
After a moment of hesitation, Bella nods and lets out a soft laugh, taking my hand, and letting me help her off the bar stool. On our way over to the main dining area, I steal a glance back at the jealous bartender who is now looking rather sad. Maybe you should have brushed up on your Italian, asswipe.
Over dinner, the conversation comes easily, especially as we go through a couple more drinks. She is definitely flirty, and not shy about it, either. She is constantly reaching across the table to touch my hand or let her foot graze across my calf under the table. I try to play it cool; pretending that she doesn’t have me dying to throw her down on this table right here in the middle of the restaurant.
If her weapon is her touch, mine is my tongue. And by that, I mean I try to sprinkle in a little Italian for her here and there. Even the smallest phrases are getting a rise out of her, and it’s just fueling my appetite. I’ve gone from nervous, stammering weirdo to a cocky, self-assured man that knows what he wants. When I ask for the check,” Posso avere il conto, per favore?”, she is practically drooling.
We leave, huddling under the awning because it’s started raining, Bella is smiling at me and I’m just standing there with my hands in my pockets, not knowing how to end this. I should ask her out for a second date. Or give her a kiss goodnight, maybe. But I’m not quite sure and I don’t want to do the wrong thing, but she quickly makes my decision for me. Leaning in, grabbing my suit coat by the lapels, and whispering in my ear, she says, “Come home with me?”
My first instinct is to freeze up in terror because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but then I remember she’s the one coming on to me. She’s the one that is rubbing her leg on the inside of mine and breathing fast next to my ear. I’ve got her in the palm of my hand and fuck if that doesn’t feel so damn good.
I bring a hand up to the side of her face and caress her cheek while gazing into her eyes. “Sì, tesoro.” When I can see she doesn't understand that, I get closer so that my lips are just inches from hers. “Yes, darling.”
We decide to take a cab to her place since we’ve had a few drinks, she slinks closer to me in the backseat to throw her leg over mine. Her dress rides up her thigh and I place my hand on her knee, rubbing it lightly with my thumb. She turns to me, lacing her fingers into my hair at the back of my head. When I lean in for a kiss, I push away the insecurities that are threatening to burst forth in my mind. I have no idea what I’m doing but I’m really good at faking it until I make it.
Her lips are soft and warm when they meet mine. I give a few more hesitant kisses until I can’t stand it anymore and I pull her closer with a hand on the back of her neck, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I hear her whimper softly into me.
“Say something hot again,” she whispers against my lips before tightening her leg on mine.
“Like what?” I ask with a smile, pretending I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Anything,” she whines, crashing her mouth onto mine again.
“Qualunque cosa tu desideri, Bella, te la darò,” I respond while brushing my lips gently down her neck.
“Oh shit,” she moans quietly and I see the driver give us a look through the rearview mirror. “What was that?”
“Whatever you wish, Bella, I will give it to you.”
With another sharp inhale of breath, she pulls back to look me in the eyes; her lust so apparent I can see it in her blown-out pupils. “I want to fuck you, Five.”
My eyes close for a moment while I try to get a grip on reality. This amazingly gorgeous woman, that is sweet and intelligent, and asked me back to her place, just told me she wants to fuck me. I might be in trouble here, because I maybe came on a little too strong and now I’m going to have to perform at a level I’m not sure I can uphold. But I’ve also never backed down from a challenge.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I am definitely fucking you,” I groan out, before diving back in for another hot and urgent kiss, not caring that the driver just cleared his throat to remind us of his presence.
When we get to her place, she is pulling me by my tie through the door as I work on ditching my jacket, letting it fall off my arms onto the floor. I follow her, leaning forward as she drags me through the small living room of her apartment and into the bedroom. As she stops to pull her boots off, I work on the knot of my tie, yanking it over my head before kicking my shoes off and tackling her onto the bed, laying myself over her.
For the second time now, she is making me as hard as a rock, only this time I don’t care if she knows it. The tight crotch of my suit pants drags over her thigh; my erection obvious and impressive as I eagerly suck and bite at her lips and jaw. She is breathing loudly as she clutches at my hips, her fingers clawing at my belt loops to pull me closer.
“Five,” she gasps before wrapping a leg around my waist.
The short skirt of her dress is riding up all the way to her hips, exposing the thin string of her panties. My hand automatically slides up her thigh, pushes her dress up all the way to her waist, and makes its way around to her spectacular ass. She must be wearing a thong, because it’s completely bare and even though I’m busy kissing and humping her leg at the moment, the memory of that perfect ass is burned into my brain and I moan out loud.
I murmur softly between ragged breaths. “Bella…damn it.”
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, squeezing her ass hard and then giving it a loud slap that has her hips jolting upward. She makes a short squeaking noise that I cut off with my hungry mouth.
When I pull away again, I look down on her with a vicious smile. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about your beautiful body and all of the things I want to do to you.”
Her already full lips are swollen from all of our passionate kissing, and she matches my smile with her own. “Oh, I think I know. You’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are. Even with a coat over your lap.”
I blink down at her and then my eyebrows raise off my head when I realize what she’s talking about. “Wha–?”
She lets out a giggle and then presses her body up, making sure to grind her thigh against my cock until I have to close my eyes. “From the feel of it, you should be the one posing naked for the class.”
I let out a breathy laugh at that, relieved that she’s not making fun of my little faux pas from the other day. “I don’t think our teacher friend would agree.”
“Hmm..I bet she would.” Bella reaches down between us and cups the hard bulge between my legs, making me hiss through my teeth. “I think anyone would be impressed by this work of art. Even the old bag.”
“How about we don’t talk about her while your hand is on my dick?”
“Good idea,” Bella agrees with another pass of her palm over my groin and I swear this woman is going to be the death of me. She pulls me down to her again, covering my lips with her own. Her fingers are raking through my hair before she moves both hands down to my belt buckle. It suddenly hits me like a brick to the head that this is actually, really happening. I am going to fuck this dream girl of mine. “Five,” she whines as she tugs at my belt and tries to undo my fly.
I can’t help but laugh a little at her desperation, only because I am the one that should be whining pathetically right now, not her. I see her adorable little pout from being made fun of, and damn if that doesn’t make me want to just flip her over and do some major damage to her. I don’t do that, but her obvious need for me right now is fueling my naturally egotistical nature.
I sit up on my knees, pushing her hands away while I give her a lop-sided smirk. She’s not sure what to think, I can tell, so she just lies there looking so cute and fuckable while staring up at me with her big eyes and her dark hair fanning around her. I unbutton my vest, taking my time while she watches me. Next I pull my shirt out from my pants and undo that, too, shrugging it off my shoulders and down my arms until I throw it off somewhere to the side. I make sure her eyes are on me as I reach down to finish the job she started; slowly unzipping my fly and opening my pants.
When she bites at her lower lip and her hips jerk up, I pull my cock out and give it a long stroke. “Is this what you want, Bella?”
“Oh fuuck…” she whimpers, her tongue swiping over her lips. “Yes.”
I nod, like I’m not surprised, but really I’m dying inside and all I can think about is ramming my dick deep inside of her. “Dress off,” I tell her.
This little act of confidence seems to be working because she’s scrambling to pull her clothes over her head. Once the dress is off, she props herself up with her elbows and looks up at me. The black, see-through lace bra pushes her impressive rack up and together, while the miniscule matching panties she has on barely covers her crotch.
“Oh shit, honey,” I breathe out, stroking myself a couple more times because I can’t help it. “You are gorgeous.”
“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she says with a sly grin.
“No, but I didn’t have you lying beneath me, dying for my cock before. So, this is better.”
When I lay over the top of her again, my hand comes to rest in her hair while I nestle my straining dick between her legs, rubbing against the thin swath of fabric of her underwear. She makes a gasping noise when I do that, so I make sure to do it again while I trail kisses up and down her neck.
“Bella, tu sei tutto ciò che stavo aspettando,” I say softly, letting my lips brush lightly against her skin with each word.
She pushes her hips up harder, her fingers scraping down my spine as her back arches into me. Her voice catches in her throat as she begs me to tell her what I said. I love having this power over her, so I almost deny her that. But I want her to know what I am thinking.
“You are everything I’ve been waiting for,” I whisper as I move to the other side of her neck, nuzzling my nose into the crook next to her shoulder.
“Oh god,” she moans. “Tell me more.”
I smile against her skin before placing a long, sucking kiss to the same spot. I want to see my mark there, and I watch with satisfaction as a faint bloom of purple rises to the top. My teeth scrape across the area as I deliver a small bite that makes her buck into me again. When I reach around to unhook her bra, I am momentarily worried I might not be able to do it. But I work the clasp with no issues, and toss it over the bed. She is already trying to wiggle out of her panties, so I help her pull those off, as well.
Once she is fully naked and sprawled out underneath me, I can’t believe I am getting to touch the very same body I was losing my mind over and beating my dick to just a few days prior. I squeeze her breasts together, running my thumbs lightly over her erect nipples and watch her squirm beneath me.
I can hardly wait much longer, but I force myself to take my time. After shoving my pants the rest of the way off, I grab her thighs and drag her roughly to me while positioning myself over her again, slotting my diamond-hard dick into the slick folds of her pussy. I don’t enter her yet, I just slide my cock back and forth, taking note of every little movement and gasp of air she makes.
“Five…” she whimpers again, and fuck if that isn’t that sexiest sound I have ever heard in my life.
“What do you want, sweet girl?” I tease, leaning down again to suck on one of her tits, letting my teeth graze her nipple. “Tell me.”
“You,” she whines, her fingernails raking over my shoulders. “I want you.”
“Is that right?” I ask, like the giant asshole I am before moving over to her other perfect tit and doing the same thing there. “What part of me do you want?”
I love the huffy little noise of impatience she gives me, and I hold her hips steady with my hand so she can’t rub against me. I want full control of her right now, and if she wants to use me to get off, she’s going to have to play by my rules. I take the head of my cock and tease it against her opening, but I don’t let myself give in to my urges quite yet. I want to hear her answer me.
She must know exactly how to play this little game and get exactly what she wants, because all of a sudden she is grabbing the back of my neck, forcing me to look at her while she grits her teeth and uses her other hand to squeeze my ass. “I want you to fuck me with that big thick cock of yours, Five.”
There is no way I can hold out after that, so in another second I am doing just that; lining my cock up and easing it in. Even just sliding my straining head inside is enough to make me want to come and I stop what I’m doing for a moment. I am trying to take my time so that I don’t completely humiliate myself by blowing my load before I even get one good pump inside of her, but my mind is scrambled a thousand different ways and she is moaning and clutching at my ass, trying to shove me in faster.
I bury my face in her neck again, closing my eyes in concentration. I continue to push inside, the hot wetness of her silky cunt engulfing me. I hear her wanton moans next to my ear but I try to block them out for the time being so I can figure this out. When I am finally all of the way inside her, buried to the hilt, I stop again.
“Are you ok?” I pant out, trying to cover up my hesitation.
She nods desperately and rocks her hips upwards. “Fuck me, hard, Five…please.”
I want to give her what she wants, but I also don’t want to be the reason she’s laughing with her girlfriends tomorrow morning. I start to thrust into her, slowly at first to get the rhythm down and then I pick up the pace. I keep my face hidden while I work through everything I’m feeling right now. Everything is amazing. Her body writhing under mine, her perfect tits pressed against my chest, her nails digging into my back, and her warm breath rushing over my shoulder. I cannot let myself come until I make her come first. I cannot .
I start to think of unsexy things to occupy my mind. Baseball. String theory. Luther’s ape body. Derek in a skirt.
Nothing is really working, and I’m starting to slow down again so I can pace myself, but she is ramming her hips up into me and grunting into my shoulder. “Five, please…” she is begging me. “Harder.”
Then, like a bolt from heaven, I know what I have to do and that’s to regain all of the control again.
I raise myself up on my palms so that I can look down on her, my hair falling into my eyes. “Ti fa sentire bene? Does that feel good, baby?”
The cry she lets out is all I need as an answer and I slam my cock into her so hard her body is shoved back from the impact. She reaches behind her to brace herself with her hands flat on the headboard.
“Oh, fuck,” she whimpers.
I thrust myself into her, over and over, fucking her rough and hard as she moans beautifully with each penetration of my dick. Her legs come up to wrap around my waist, her ankles hooking over one another and trapping me close to her body. I let her stay like this for a little bit, but I can’t drive into her like I want, so I smack the side of her thigh and stop my movements.
“Legs in the air,” I order, my jaw clenched tight.
She does exactly as I say, opening her legs wide so I can have full access to her tight and slick pussy.
“Good girl,” I praise softly. “Brava ragazza.”
Her desperate noises are growing louder and higher-pitched as her fingers press harder into my back and her neck arches. I can’t resist the urge, so I lean down, biting at her smooth, olive skin that is fully exposed to me. She gasps loudly and I chuckle at her reaction.
“You are so fucking sexy, Bella. But you’re even sexier when you let me take control.”
“Yes,” she pants, even though I didn’t ask her a question. “Do anything you want. Oh god!” she screams out when I slam into her again. “Fuck, Five, yes! Keep going!”
I am starting to sweat now, the muscles in my arms and thighs straining with the effort of fucking her hard and fast. Taking a brief pause, I grab both of her wrists in one hand, pulling them together and holding them tightly over her head while I slam them down into the mattress.
“Stay,” I tell her and she nods, her eyes wide and her lips parted.
As I pound away on top of her, swearing and sweating like a fiend, she’s still not finishing. I’m not sure how much more I can hold out. I’ve shown great restraint in my life and had to prove my resolve in a number of different ways, but this tops them all.
Fuck, if I don’t come inside this girl in the next few seconds I’m going to lose my damn mind.
I free one of her hands. “Finger yourself,” I hiss as I look down on her, my hair plastered to my forehead.
She does exactly that and when I peer down between us I see my hard cock pistoning in and out of her, coated in a thin layer of her slick. I watch as her hand starts working her clit, rubbing her fingers in a hard circle as she cries out even louder and moans my name.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath. I lean in close to her again, grazing my cheek against hers and letting my mouth roam softly under her jaw. “Vieni per me, Isabella,” I tell her. “Come for me.”
I’m not entirely sure she even heard me, but it doesn’t matter. She is suddenly screaming and bucking against me wildly, clutching at my shoulder blades and biceps and biting at my collarbone. I can feel her tight pussy contracting around my cock and that’s all I can take. I spill inside of her, not caring about the potential consequences of our actions, shaking and shuddering on top of her. The long, low groan I let out is lost in her neck as I cling to her like my life depends on it. I have never experienced an orgasm as intense as this and the waves that are washing over my body feel like they may never end.
They start to subside eventually, and I let my muscles relax. Sinking down so that I am flush with her body, I kiss her softly and she circles her legs around my waist again, resting her heels against my ass. I can’t stop trembling as she strokes my back with her hands, running them up and down gently while I try to catch my breath. I bite back the urge to say something stupid like “I love you” or “Don’t leave me”, so instead I hold her tighter to me and kiss her sweat-damp shoulder.
“Five,” she breathes out, running her hands through my hair. “That was amazing.”
I nod into her before raising my face to look her in her eyes. She looks absolutely ravaged, with her lips swollen and red, and her hair a tangled mess all around her. We smile at one another and then we start laughing quietly. It’s nice and it’s comfortable.
Adjusting ourselves so that I am holding her from behind, her back pressed against my chest, I run my fingers through her messy hair and kiss the back of her neck. I have never felt so relaxed and at ease in my life. I’m not sure how these things usually go, but I don’t want to leave her or this bed. I realize that she may be waiting until it’s socially acceptable to kick me out, however, and I start to brace myself for the inevitable.
“Bella,” I whisper.
“Hmm?” she answers dreamily, tracing her fingers over my arm.
“This feels good.”
She nods and squeezes my hand. “Yeah, it does.”
She doesn’t say anything else, so I’m still not sure what’s going to happen. Then she flips around to face me, placing her hand on the side of my face. I close my eyes and press into her hand.
“Five,” she says softly. “Stay a little while?”
I nod. “SÌ, Bella, Io resterò. As long as you want, I will stay.”
*****************************************************************
When I walk into the bar the next day, I’m whistling “Walking On Sunshine” to myself and the cocky smirk I usually reserve for special occasions is plastered on my face.
I see Derek in his usual spot, so I stride over, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him fall off his stool. He whips his head around with a scowl before hoisting himself back up again.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“Nothing at all,” I answer, plopping myself onto my own stool. “Why do you ask?”
“Jesus, you’re acting weird.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, you’re smiling. And not in a way that makes me think you want to murder me. Like you’re actually happy.”
I shrug, grinning even wider as I flag the bartender down, ordering my usual whiskey.
“Holy shit,” Derek exclaims, turning his body towards me. “You got laid, didn’t you?”
I give another shrug and he punches me in the shoulder. “Fuck, you stupid asshole! Why didn’t you tell me? I want to hear all the details.”
I frown. “I’m not telling you shit, you creepy bastard.”
“Come on!” he pleads. “At least tell me a little bit! I deserve that much for having to listen to all of your whining for the last few months. Spill it, Hargreeves.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop smiling, so I decide to humor him. “Ok, fine. Yes, I got laid.”
“Ha!” He bangs his palm on the top of the bar. “Yes!”
The bartender brings me my drink and I take a sip, still grinning like a fucking Cheshire cat. “Four times.”
Derek spits out part of his drink, spraying my lap with his spittle. I wipe it off with an irritated swipe of my hand, but honestly I don’t even care. “Four times? With the same girl?”
“Same girl. Same night,” I state haughtily, like I’m some big, swinging dick pimp.
“Shit,” Derek says with a shake of his head. Then he raises his glass in a toast. “Well, it’s about fucking time. I knew you had it in you.”
I clink his glass with mine and take a sip. “I suppose I have you to thank for part of it.”
“Why is that?”
“Picturing you in a skirt when I was trying not to prematurely ejaculate seemed to do the trick.”
“Oh, fuck off!” he exclaims, but he’s laughing and so am I.
“No, really. Thank you for just…being there.” I start to get embarrassed from my rare show of emotions and look away.
Derek puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
This is why I like Derek. We don’t have to say a whole lot to one another, but we get it. We’re here for each other but we don’t need to cry a fucking river to let the other know.
We sit in silence for a minute, just sipping our drinks. Then I start smiling again and I turn to him. “Tu mi completi.”
“What is that?”
“You complete me,” I tell him with a big grin.
He sighs and nudges me with his knee. “Yeah…you, too, asshole.”