Heat Wave - Part 2 - Erotika Short Stories for Women (Adult Short Stories for Women Series) (2 page)

And, as I was writing about all of this drama, and
unleashing my fury of bent up sexual frustration and escapades, I got a text
message from one of my many
boy toys
,
asking me what I was up to.

“Not much,” I replied.

“What are you wearing?” he asked. Now, I don’t know about
you, but I think this question is probably one of the lamest questions a guy
can send a girl. What are you wearing? Well, let’s see, I’m at home, in my
sweat pants, writing on my laptop? Of course, that’s not what I answered back.
But sometimes, men just need to be strung along, and messed with. I don’t do it
viciously, but I guess I get a bit of a thrill out of it. Especially when I
know that a guy is trying to “game me,” as they would say. That’s when I really
have the most fun with it. But, I wasn’t really in the mood to beat around the
bush this time. I had had my fun earlier in the day. I had conquered my
200-pound gorilla, so to speak.

“Sorry, about to get to bed. It’s been a long day,” I said
back. And I know this really gets to them. Sometimes you have to play a bit of
push and pull. You can’t let them know you’ll bend over backwards, or jump
through hoops for them. It’s a mind game. Yeah, I know it’s silly at times, but
it is what it is.

“But it’s so early. I was hoping for a night cap,” he said.

Translation:
I just
want to fuck.
Yeah, I know, it’s crude, but sometimes that’s just the way
it is. But at least he didn’t come right out and say it. This guy that’s
texting me – Nicholas is his name – is pretty amazing in bed. And
normally, when a guy like that wants to get together, I’m fair game. I may not
cave in right away, but I string them along until eventually I say yes. Of
course, I was going to say yes the entire time, but you can’t make them think
that. If you let them think that, then they have the upper hand.
Never give them the upper hand.
Always
remember that you hold the power, not them.

“Long day. Sorry,” I replied. Now, I know this is really
starting to annoy him, and as much as I didn’t want to play this game tonight,
I find myself being sucked right back into it again.

“Seriously?”

Now he was starting to get upset. “Yeah, seriously. TTYL.
XOXO,” was my last response. Now, like I said, this will drive a guy wild. As
soon as you start rejecting them, they want you that much more. It’s really
quite weird to be honest with you. I never really understood it, until I went
for my degree in Behavioral Psychology, then it all started to make sense to
me.

You see, the reason why men want you more when you reject
them boils down to basic instinct. We all want what we can’t have. Why do you
think there are so many affairs out there? But this isn’t just a phenomenon
that occurs between men and women, it’s everywhere you turn. It’s our basic and
natural instinct to want what is most difficult to obtain. This stems from our
hunter-gatherer historical roots, which dates back to the dawn of time. Before
modern technology, humans were either hunters, or they were gatherers. Meaning
they either hunted animals and fish, or they gathered food from trees and plants.
But they all knew certain animals were extremely hard to get, for example, and
that’s what that they all sought after. They didn’t care about the easy animals
as much; they wanted the ones that were harder to catch. They wanted the harder
ones because they knew it was difficult; it was a challenge, so they sought
after it, harder and harder. So, if you want a guy to lust after you, then you
have to be hard to get sometimes. You can’t always let them have what they
want, then they would just take advantage of you.

When my phone went off again, I thought it was Nicholas.
“When will this guy learn?” I thought to myself. But it wasn’t him. It was
Robert Dorning.

“Hey,” he said in the text.

I waited a few minutes before responding back. “Hey,” I said
back.

“Been thinking about you,” he wrote.

“Oh?” I replied back.

“Yeah. Can we get together tomorrow?” My legs quivered a
bit. I was at odds with myself on what to do. Do I rush back into a situation
that I know is going to just get me into more hot water? Or, was I supposed to
wait and see what happened with the fallout?

“Don’t have time tomorrow,” I said, and then smiled to
myself.

“How about the next day? On Wednesday?”

“Sure. Maybe. Text me in the morning that day, and I’ll let
you know for certain,” I said back. Was I playing hard to get? Sure, a little
bit. But this was also Robert Dorning. My body shuddered a bit just thinking
about him. It had only been a few hours since I had last seen him, and I was
already thinking about him again. So much for trying to just blow him off. I
guess that probably wasn’t going to work out in my favor.

The thoughts were swirling around in my mind, so I got back
to my writing. But it was very hard to concentrate. It was hard to concentrate
because every time I started writing about the situation that I was translating
into one of my books, I thought about Robert’s hard body pressed up against me.
I thought about how hard he was thrusting inside of me, and how incredible that
felt. I thought about how I clawed up against his back, and pulled him closer
to me – deeper into me.

All I could think about was how I let him pound himself into
me, pull my hair, and have his way with me. I remember him standing there in
front of me, pulling him closer, and swallowing him into my mouth. I get
dripping wet just thinking about it. Just thinking about it now sends me into a
tailspin.

Robert Dorning. Okay, I guess I’m not over him just yet.
Maybe I could take him out for one more spin around the block. It couldn’t
hurt, right?

I left my apartment Wednesday
morning just shortly before noon. I rode the elevator down 43 stories, and
emerged back onto the white marble and limestone lobby of my building. The air
conditioner was on full blast in the building, and it was shielded from the
elements.

“Morning Ms. Beckett,” said John, at the front desk, as I
emerged from the elevator.

“Good morning,” I said. I flashed a great big smile. It was
most certainly going to be a good morning. I was headed mid-town to meet Robert
Dorning again. My legs quivered thinking about him, while I walked through the
lobby of my building. I could see John, at the front desk, checking me out, as
he always did. He was discreet about it most of the time, but I could tell he
wanted to just rip my clothes off.

“Hot outside?” I asked.

“Not as hot as the past few days, but still pretty
unbearable out there. I hope you’re going some place that has some air
conditioning.”

Well, of course I was. “Yes, hopefully my cab driver has air
conditioning this time. There’s nothing worse than getting stuck in a summer
heat wave, in a taxi with no air conditioning.”

“I bet,” he said.

I walked out the door to greet Ernie, the building doorman.
He was probably one of the sweetest old men that I had ever known. Ernie was
dressed in a red bellman suit that looked far too unbearable to be wearing in
weather like this.

“Good morning, Ms. Beckett,” he said.

“Good morning, Ernie.” Now he was one person I didn’t mind
seeing every single day. He was probably the happiest person that I knew.
Always had a smile on his face, that Ernie. Not quite sure what his whole
secret to life was, but nothing seemed to get him down. I never once heard a
complaint from him.

“Where to, Ms. Beckett?”

“Mid-town. Fifth Avenue and 49
^th
Street.”

Ernie hailed a cab for me, like he did every day. “Here you
go Miss Beckett.”

“Thank you, Ernie.”

He leaned into the car and repeated the address to the driver.
He was always doing that. I guess that’s one of the many perks of living in an
overpriced apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

It was hot outside again. The sweltering heat wave that had
New York City in its grips, hadn’t let up yet. After nearly a week, it was
still in full swing, and you could see the dismay on peoples’ faces as they
walked the city streets. The heat made people extremely agitated. That’s
because it wasn’t just hot and dry, it was hot and humid – the worst
kind. But for me, the heat wave didn’t bother me all that much, aside from
getting me sexually aroused. But then again, most things get me sexually
aroused.

I sat back in the yellow taxi, and this time around, it was
air conditioned, and the driver didn’t look like a pervert. He barely even
looked at me in fact. He was busy doing something on his phone, or checking on
something most of the time. I’m not sure how taxi drivers do it. Sometimes they
have to deal with the strangest people.

“Right here is okay.” After cruising through the light late
morning traffic, we arrived at my destination: Dorning Capital. I looked up at
the tall steel and blue glass structure that soared into the sky. “Wow,” I
thought. I was never easily impressed, but Robert Dorning impressed me. As much
as I wanted to stay away, something kept drawing me back in. I knew it was
because I couldn’t have him. That was why I was so interested. He was married;
unattainable. But I had him in the palm of my hand. Or, did he have me in the
palm of his?

I couldn’t help but let the thoughts run wild in my mind as
I road the elevator up to the 86
^th
floor. Of course, his office was
at the top of the building, I thought. No self-respecting billionaire would be
in the sub-penthouse of a building. They had to be on the penthouse level. I
smiled at myself.

“Good morning, Miss?” said the secretary at the reception
desk. The elevators opened up onto a floor that looked nothing like an office.
It was modern, with glass and steel projecting in different directions, and filled
with incredibly luxurious finishes everywhere. The black onyx reception desk
wrapped around in a concave, half-moon fashion, which looked stunning against
the grey charcoal slate floors, and soaring slate and dark wood walls. It was
like something out of Architectural Digest.

“Good morning,” I replied back. “I’m here to see Mr.
Dorning.” Well, that was weird calling him that. Mr. Dorning. That had a very
strange ring to it. I liked the sound of Robert Dorning much better.

Her face melted from a stern look, into one of a pleasant
demeanor after she realized I was there to see the “Big boss.”

“Please have a seat. Let me call his office for you. Can I
get you any tea, or coffee? Perhaps some sparkling water?”

Wow, they were fancy. “No,” I replied. “I’m okay, but thank
you.”

The twenty-something year old secretary was very
professionally dressed, but I could tell she was eyeing me up. I wondered if
she had an idea of what was going on, or if Robert Dorning always had pretty
ladies show up at his office like this? Looking around the place, I couldn’t
help but feel excited. For a man to have built such an empire, in such a short
period of time, was enthralling to me. I was always impressed with things like
that. It impressed me when I saw true wealth, and not just guys that tried to
show off. You know what they say about those types of guys right?

I picked up a copy of some money magazine after noticing
Robert’s face on the front of it. Of course, he had magazines with his picture
on the front in his lobby. I leafed through the pages until I got to the cover
story, which talked about Robert’s life. The article was a very honest
portrayal of the man who built his business into a Fortune 1000 company in less
than two decades. It was an interview-style piece, where the author would ask
questions, and he would answer them. It was pretty revealing about his past
mistakes, failures, and losses. But it also talked about how all of those
failures, allowed him to hone his direction, and create the company into what
it was today.

“Mr. Dorning will see you now.” The blonde, twenty-something
year old secretary, clad in a dark gray skirt and matching jacket, appeared in
front of me again.

“Great,” I said.

“Please follow me.”

She led me down a corridor with soaring ceilings, supported
by walls and columns of onyx and slate. The corridor wasn’t exactly like a
corridor, but rather, a very wide hallway. The tall ceilings made it feel
enormous, in fact. And the floor was decorated more like a modern home than an
office complex. Glass enclosed rooms lined the corridor, but looking in, they
were decorated like living rooms and dining rooms. One of them must have been a
conference room, but it looked more like a dining room with rich mahogany
chairs, and an enormous modern mahogany table with a glass top.
 

At the end of the corridor, was Robert Dorning’s office. There
was a separate secretary close to the double door to his office. This
secretary’s desk was like the first one, but with white marble in a half-moon
shape. The white marble was a matte finish, and not the kind you could see your
reflection off. It was topped with exquisite modern steel and glass table lamps
with thin black shades that you could see through. Everything on the floor
looked like it had been custom designed for the space.

“Theresa will help you from here,” said the first secretary.

The second secretary seemed a lot nicer than the first. She too
offered me coffee, tea, or sparkling water, but also asked if I cared for a
drink. I assumed she meant a cocktail, which I declined. “No, that’s okay,
thank you very much.”

“No problem. Please have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Dorning know
that you’re here.”

That was a surprise to hear. I thought Mr. Dorning already
knew that I was there. It’s funny how many hoops you need to jump through to
get to his office. It felt like Fort Knox.

“Thank you,” I replied back, and took a seat in another
small seating area that looked like it was freshly peeled off the pages of some
modern home magazine.