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Justin
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Kayla didn’t lie when she told me her outfit was going to be sexy. She was wearing a tight red dress that went down to just above her knees. Her chest was ample, and her back was open and exposed. I couldn’t help but kiss her all along her back and neck as she put the dress on.
“You’re going to have stop that,” she said, already flustered. “We’re never going to get out the door if you keep that up.”
“I can’t help it when you’re already so good at keeping me up,” I said, while I continued to kiss her. I massaged her shoulders and kissed down her back.
“Quit it,” she giggled. “Seriously, I’m going to get you.”
“Do it,” I urged.
She lightly smacked my face. Her cheeks were bright red. “Let’s have dinner first.”
I zipped up the back of her dress. Fortunately, much of her back was still open and exposed. I knew that whenever my hands would be free during the night, they would seldom be away from her creamy skin.
Keeping my hands or mouth off of her was going to be practically impossible. I was already very attracted to her, but I couldn’t help but wonder whether this intensity was an odd response to the bizarre situation I had found myself in two days ago with Leila. I decided not to overanalyze my actions, and instead enjoy the pure sexuality that always reverberated between me and Kayla.
I had decided not to tell Kayla what all had happened between Leila and me. Since I didn’t go through with the sex and I didn’t get the company, I felt like telling Kayla the full truth would only hurt us and provide no real use for our relationship. I decided that since Kayla had closed the book on K-Plus, I was going to close the book on Leila and never communicate with her again.
Stepping into Kayla’s closet, I picked out a pair of shoes that I thought matched her dress well.
“Good choice,” she remarked. “You know your fashion.”
“I’ve been around a few modeling agencies,” I reminded her.
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SHE MOVED MY HAND AWAY from her thigh, attempting to concentrate better as she drove.
“You’re going to get us into a crash,” she said. “You’re being extra playful tonight. What’s gotten into you?”
“It’s not about what’s gotten into me—”
“It’s about what’s getting into me?” she finished.
“Oh boy, I’ve already become predictable,” I said, deflated. “Wonderful.”
“No, come on, let’s keep talking about what we were talking about before!”
“Remind me again what that was?”
“We were talking about all the places that we could move to together,” she reminded. “I think we were talking about Florida last.”
“Oh, I thought we were done talking about Florida,” I groaned.
“What’s wrong with Florida?” she laughed.
“What isn’t wrong with it? The weather is terrible, the people are crazy, the education system sucks—”
“The education here isn’t that great,” she interjected.
“Which is another reason why I’m not raising a family here in Newark,” I said. “Florida also gets lots of hurricanes.”
“That’s another pro if we move to L.A.!” she said. “No hurricanes.”
“But, they get earthquakes out west.”
“And the Midwest gets lots of tornadoes,” she added. “Every place has something fucked up about its weather.”
“Not places like Sweden or Iceland,” I thought aloud.
“Oh, I didn’t know we were thinking about moving to a place in a whole other country!” she said. “I thought we were staying somewhere more domestic!”
“Oh, that’s what I though, too,” I laughed. “I was just saying, those places are fucking beautiful.”
“Well, so is New Zealand,” she said. “But, then we’d have to live somewhere that takes nineteen hours to get to from New Jersey or New York.”
“I thought we weren’t coming back to Jersey.”
“No, but I just meant like—you know, family and friends would want to visit. That’s quite a trip to put on them. And us.”
“That’s true. Okay, so New Zealand and Australia are out. I guess any continents like Africa or Asia are out. Unless you think they’d be okay with us not knowing how to speak their languages.”
“Yeah, how about we stay in America for now,” she insisted. “Let’s keep thinking smaller and work our way from there.”
“Okay, what’s more appealing to you,” I asked. “City or country.”
“Probably a city,” she answered. “At least for now.”
“Busy city, small city, or somewhere in the middle?”
“Probably something in the middle. But, I’ve worked in New York for years and now I know what L.A. looks like. I can be comfortable in any city.”
“Metropolitan like L.A. or desert like Vegas or Phoenix?” I asked.
“Ooh, I could live out in Vegas,” she said. “And the cost of living out there is super cheap. Housing is cheap, booze is cheap, it’s incredible.”
“Shit, I wasn’t seriously considering Vegas, but now that you mention it, that does sound awesome,” I admitted. “We’d always be close to where we can party. We’d never be bored.”
“If I sold another company, we could buy log cabins out in the desert that we can use purely to fuck,” she said. “We’ll work hard during the week, then on the weekends we can go out in the desert where no one else in the world can hear my loud moans, and we can look out at the stars, roast some marshmallows, and then fuck each other well into the night.”
I cleared my throat, feeling myself growing hard at the thought of what she described. “So, Vegas, then?”
She laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe, let’s think about it.”
And, I did think about it. I thought about every state on the map.
“Extreme cold or extreme heat?” I asked her with a mouthful of orange chicken and noodles.
She took a sip of her water. “I’d prefer somewhere warmer. I’m kind of sick of the cold, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
We were sitting in a nice corner of the room at Tasty Wok. The place was packed, as was typical for a Friday night.
I made sure to swallow my last bite before attempting speech again. “Los Angeles is warm almost the whole year.”
“There you go.”
“Do we have an amount in mind that we’d ideally like to spend per month at our place?” I wondered.
“I guess I thought if we were living in Los Angeles we’d be staying at your place.”
“Oh, I think we’d have to look for a new place together if we were living together out there, don’t you think?”
“I like your place,” she said.
“I like it, too, but I got it when I thought I was going to be a single dude living out there on his own,” I informed her. “Don’t you think if you were moving your entire life out west we’d need a little more room than I’ve got?”
She considered for a moment and then relented. “Yeah, I guess I do have a lot of shit, I’d not factored that in.”
“We’re going to need a box truck just for your shoes and clothes alone,” I joked.
“Seriously though,” she went. “And I ‘d probably get a lot of freckles out in that California sun.”
“You might, I’ve gotten a few myself,” I admitted showing her a few freckles that had cropped up on my arms.
“What about you?” she asked. “Would you rather live in a cold state or a hot state?”
“I’m fine with either, actually,” I answered. “That’s one thing I can give Jersey. It’s warm sometimes and cold sometimes.”
Seems cold all the time to me,” said Kayla.
“Yeah well, you’re a girl, and you gals get cold all the time.”
She smacked my arm. “Even if that were true, that’s still not nice.”
“You know, I can’t see minding it too bad out in Vegas, maybe I would prefer the heat.”
“Desert winters can get awfully windy and cold though,” she said.
“Hmm, that’s true.”
“Florida has some pretty warm winters,” she added, winking.
“Yeah, too warm,” I remarked. “What about Atlanta?”
“That’s close to Florida, you know that,” she said.
“It’s in a whole other state—”
“Yeah, one state up. That’s really far,” she said, sarcastically.
“You know, not all of Texas is that bad,” I said. “I’ve actually gone shooting in Houston before. It was kind of cool. They’ve got an interesting blend of life there.”
“Shooting?”
“Oh,” I stammered. “Not like—with a gun. I meant with my camera. Photo shooting.”
“Texas, really? I don’t know anything about it,” said Kayla.
“I don’t know that much about Los Angeles, but I live there right now, technically,” I said. “We can always learn about wherever we end up when we get there.”
“You’ve survived out in Los Angeles for a month, I guess you could probably live anywhere,” she said.
“You’re damn right,” I said, before taking another full bite of noodles.
“Where would you want to work out in L.A. now?” she asked me.
“I’ll work wherever I need to while I’m out looking for the right gig,” I told her. “I almost don’t care where I work, as long as I don’t want to shoot myself at the end of every day.”
She finished chewing her mouthful of rice before she continued. “I know a few people out in L.A., you know. Not anyone like super close, but people who could keep an eye out for jobs for you.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” I said.
“Grant would be heartbroken,” she said, with a puckered lip. “He finally got you over to that damn accounting firm, and now you’re going to leave him.”
“Hey, you know what they say—if you love something, set it free.”
She giggled, “Didn’t you say Grant liked L.A., too? Hey, maybe we could get both him and Bethany over there and set them up. I know that’s corny, and you said I shouldn’t always want to be a matchmaker with our friends, but tell me that their personalities wouldn’t sync up well. Right?”
“Their personalities might be fine together, but you know how he feels about bigger women. While I like the bigger women, he likes the skinny models.”
“Well, I’d rather it be that way than the other way around,” she relented.
I decided to dispose of my pride and switch my way of thinking on the matter. “You know what, if you knew anyone that could get me good photography work out in L.A., and if my boss wasn’t an insane person, I’d say help me out.”
“Okay then, I’m going to text people as soon as we’re done eating,” she said gleefully.
After we got back from dinner, Kayla instructed me to go straight into the bedroom and wait for her. I did as I was told, with gusto.
I kicked off my shoes and socks, then hopped back into bed. I was expecting her to come in and perform a seductive striptease, seeing as she knew how badly I wanted her tonight, both in and out of that dress.
“I was wanting to show you a new item of lingerie that I made last week,” Kayla said, from some other room. “I didn’t give this design away to Vicki Verelli, so it’s still all mine. I think it was too good to give to anyone.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got!” I called out.
“In fact, I don’t think Vicki Verelli would’ve even accepted this lingerie,” she continued. “It’s quite, explicit. It’s not something one of her stores would carry—at least I don’t think they would. This is probably something you’d have to special order.”
“I can’t wait,” I said, in growing anticipation.
More time passed before she finally came in. But when she did, I was just grateful that she was here, and that she was mine.
She looked amazing. She had on a loose, paper-thin gown on that seemed to glide behind her as if a strong wind were pushing against her. She had on no bra beneath the gown, allowing me to see her perky breasts as they moved perfectly with each step she took. While of a solid design, one interesting feature kept my attention—allowing her succulent vagina to call out to me. The design was crotch-less.
“So, what do you think?” she asked.
