Succulence (Succulent Trilogy #1)

Copyright © 2014 by Lauren Lashley

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

Wild Topaz Media
2711 Centerville Rd

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Wilmington, DE 19808
http://www.wildtopazmedia.com

In loving memory of

Gloria Lashley-Williams.

Thank you for being unconditionally loving,

supportive, nurturing, sassy and classy.

I love you, Beama

RIP

DEDICATIONS

This book is dedicated to any woman who has considered doing something strange for a little piece of change because the economy – and the workforce – is harder on women than most would ever imagine.

I’d also like to dedicate this book to any woman who’s struggled with trying to be taken seriously for her intellect because people are too busy focusing on her appearance and cannot understand a beautiful woman does not always need to rely upon looks to get ahead. If – and when she does – an intelligent woman of beauty usually applies her aesthetics as an enhancement, but not the basis, of being the total package.

Last but not least, I dedicate this book to my supporters. Whether offline or online, friend or family, co-worker or colleague, you’ve seen me fight through many things to get to this point and encouraged me without ceasing. May the process become part of the journey, and may we all realize life is sweeter when we push through the pain and take control into our own hands as soon as possible.

DISCLAIMER

While this book is inspired by interesting conversations and realistic events observed by the author, nothing in this book is real! Not a damned thing!

But if you need it spelled out for you in legalese, here it goes:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

Sometimes you do things with the purest intentions. Your goal isn’t to hurt anyone or anything. You’re simply living for you, hoping o do the best you can with what you’ve been given so you can get everything you need in the process. That’s all I was doing – giving pleasure to get ahead. 

I don’t know what it is about giving head that drives me crazy, but I love it. I get high off the pleasure of taking a man into my mouth, giving him my undivided attention and caressing his most sensitive, masculine body part to the point where he can’t help but to explode. I love swallowing his release; allowing a man the opportunity to relieve tension in my mouth and assert his manhood elicits the most exquisite euphoria.

A lot of women publicly hate talking about this, but I love a huge, creamy load. What I do with it really varies upon my mood. I can be really nasty. Generally speaking, usually I want a mouthful of cream. Just thrust into my mouth while you moan and bust your load all over my tongue. Spatter it with spurts of cum blasting from your hard cock. I love when that happens. Other times I’ll take it straight down my throat and into my belly. Sometimes I can really pleasure a man by letting him shove his dick way down my throat, allowing him to push my head down until my chin kisses his nuts while he cums.

I won’t lie; I’m not beyond a good facial either. There have been plenty of times where I’ve begged men to cum all over my face. I love the warm shower of man seed all over my face and body. Cum showers are absolutely awesome, I tell you.

I guess that’s why I figured it would be easy to be an escort. I needed the money and I enjoyed pleasing men. Well, not just any man. Usually my man. But considering the circumstances, any man who wanted my attention and companionship, and was willing to pay for it would do.

Boy was I naïve.

CHAPTER TWO

About Twelve Months Ago…

“Congratulations, Miss Michaels. We’d like to inform you that you’ve indeed been hired to work for Gem Technologies in the position of social media and PR executive,” stated the distinguished voice on the phone. I had just received a call from Mark Washington, the head recruiter at Gem Technologies. I had just received a top communications position at the Fortune 500 Company, which was located in Dallas. “This is more of a junior level position. You’ll be reporting to Dean Whitfield, our executive marketing director. He’s on vacation right now, but he’ll be back in a few weeks. Until then, we trust you to wing it. With your background, you’ll catch on quickly.”

I smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you, Mr. Washington. It’s a pleasure to be selected for the position. I’ll make sure to catch on quickly. You won’t be disappointed!”

Words couldn’t describe how happy I was to get the news. I had gone to an Ivy League school – without the Ivy League scholarships – and aced every class, yet had the hardest time landing work after graduation. Sure, my resume and GPA were impressive, but they were also intimidating. Despite being greatly qualified for mostly any job I applied for, I was constantly overlooked when it came time to get interviews, much less make the cut.

I think the reason I’ve been passed on so much is my resume. I had a solid Ivy League education, and that in and of itself commanded a respectable salary from the get-go.

Do you know how disappointing it was to send off carefully tailored résumés, chart interviews, get great feedback… and then ultimately to get passed over because you may be too good or too expensive? Because recruiters feared your salary requirements were too high? Yes, I did expect to make enough money to pay off the six figures I’d borrowed from Uncle Sam to get ahead, but I also knew I had to start somewhere. It felt like I couldn’t even get a foot in the door.

Gem Technologies was founded over twenty years ago, it wasn’t one of the most trendy companies available, but getting a job here meant I would finally get some stability. I would finally be able to pay off those student loans I’ve been having so much trouble with, I could finally pay off my car and get it fixed, and I could afford to move out of my parents’ home and be an adult for once. 

****

That evening, my parents and I celebrated with dinner at Zinc, one of New Haven’s most popular seafood restaurants. I’d been living at home and working part time for so long that we had to celebrate. Mom and dad were happy I found a job, but were also concerned about me living in a new city on my own.

“Amy, are any of your former classmates in Dallas?” Dad asked, cutting into his steak and shrimp. The juices oozed from his steak, bits of grease and herbs swirling around it.

I couldn’t lie. I didn’t. I wouldn’t know anyone. As terrifying as it was, I wasn’t going to reveal how scary this was. I put on a brave face.

“Dad, I know it’s a new city, but I’ll be fine. I promise,” I reassured him. I chewed on my lobster dinner carefully, so my nerves didn’t lead me to choke on my fib. I was actually very nervous about my new life, having never been to Dallas, much less anywhere alone.

“Let her be, Robert,” Mom cajoled, elbowing dad lightly with her elbow. “She’s a big girl now. She won’t be swooped upon by any vultures the minute she lands.”

Dad raised his eyebrow as he looked at her. “I don’t care how old she is, Laura. She’s my daughter. She might be a ‘big girl’ but that doesn’t mean I won’t want to make sure she’s got allies.”

Turning to me, he left his fork stuck in his steak so his pointer finger was directed at me. “New England is different than Dallas. I know you haven’t had the easiest time here, but I don’t mind you sticking it out until you find something local, okay?”

I reached for a dinner roll, breaking off a piece to butter. “I know, Dad, but I have to do this. It’s the only way I’ll really establish myself in my career field.”

“But do you have to move to Dallas, though, honey? That’s halfway across the country!”

“Your father’s right, Amy. Dallas is far, and we don’t have any family there,” said Mom. I noticed her arm move to pat his leg under the table, silently urging him to calm down. “However, I think you’re of the age where you can take care of yourself. You also know we’re just a phone call away if you need us. Besides, I think it will be cool for you to experience life in a big city with a lot of southern hospitality.”

She smiled at me, her eyes twinkling. Mom and Dad had been together forever, but that never took away from her flirtatious nature. At 49, she was easily 10 or 11 years younger than my dad, and looked at least 10 years younger than she was. Her slim, yet busty figure, which I inherited, still looked great for her age after three kids. My brothers were closer to their 30s, and I was the baby.

I groaned. “Daaaaaaaddy, I’m 23. I’m not interested in staying with RJ. I’m not a baby anymore. All he’s going to do is babysit me like I’m some kid and that’s not the case. Besides, you and mom have done enough for me. It’s not like I won’t be able to fly home and see you guys. Plane tickets are pretty reasonable in Dallas. I heard DFW is like one of the main airline hubs in the country.”

“RJ simply understands the importance of looking after his only sister. His
baby sister
at that,” Mom chimed in. She tempered Dad’s resistance by nudging the subject in a different direction. “Will they pay for your relocation expenses?”

“It’s quite hard to find a job that will these days,” I admitted. I took a sip of wine. My parents didn’t really like or condone my drinking, despite the fact that I was of legal age, but this was a special occasion. “But I’ll ask.”

“Let us know. We can help with the moving expenses, if need be,” said Mom. “Or better yet – I can come down there when you finally confirm your acceptance and help you shop for your new apartment.”

“That would be awesome, Mom. I’d love that.”

Dad glowered in the corner.

“Don’t be like that, Rob! Yes, she’s your baby but you can’t hold on to her forever. Besides, you still have one of Daddy’s girls here with you,” she said, making kissy faces at him.

Dad rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yes, I do, but I don’t want ‘Daddy’s girls’ running up my credit card out of town.”

Mom and I laughed, breaking up the tension surrounding the conversation. I felt reassured knowing mom would come to Dallas with me to get settled.

I felt even better knowing that despite how scared I was, everything promised to work out for me.

CHAPTER THREE

It had been three months since I moved. As promised, Mom accompanied me to Dallas, helped me find an apartment and even cosigned on a car for me.

It was the middle of summer – August, to be specific – when I moved, so my lease was higher than it would have been had I rented sometime in May or June. Nevertheless, I was happy with my apartment. It was in North Dallas, not far from 635. My job was off North Central Expressway – which everyone here calls “75”
– and the commute was heavy at times, but it wasn’t bad at all.

GemTech proved to be a solid work situation. Dean Whitfield, my supervisor, was so lazy that I got to do everything. I prepared all public relations communications, took over social strategy and everything in between. And even though he had Stacy, his secretary, Dean still sent me on coffee runs.

After three months, I was worn out. Don’t get me wrong. Dean was knowledgeable; he would help me identify holes in my communications strategies and even helped me put out small fires in my execution flops, but overall, he really enjoyed parlaying in his office, which overlooked the city of Dallas, and surfing the Internet.

Sure, Stacy ran her fair share of errands, but she seemed to be more of a pleasurable distraction to Dean and the rest of the department, if anything. Stacy was 20 years old and still in school. She was five feet and eight inches tall with long lean legs and big boobs. Don’t get me wrong; I inherited my mom’s busty figure. I had nice legs and 36DD breasts, but they were nothing in comparison to Stacy’s 34Es. They were round, plump and always well oiled and on display. She was a leggy model, and I was a petite New England import.

Couple that with the fact that Stacy knew how to use her looks to get ahead. She framed her bright blue eyes with her long black waves and a gorgeous smile. She kept her curves well-accentuated and flirted with Dean to stay on his good side, despite the fact that she barely worked outside of light errands. 

Dean absolutely adored Stacy. He was nice, but if I were to be honest, he wasn’t a lady killer by any means. He stood five-eleven, with a ruddy complexion, brown eyes and dirty blonde hair. He was about thirty pounds overweight and tended to wear clothes that didn’t flatter his beer belly. Stacy’s flirtatious attention probably tickled him throughout an otherwise boring, uneventful day in a dry corporate environment.

He constantly called her into the office to share notes and record minutes on his conference calls. I found it curious because GemTech maintained a relatively conservative image and rarely needed to go over communications strategies as much as emerging tech startups and more scandalous corporations did. I also found it weird because I needed to be in on some of these meetings too, but I was never invited to participate as much as Stacy was.

Stacy and I usually Skyped back and forth throughout the day. As I learned more about her, I came to respect her hustle. She was from Arlington, took classes several days per week for her degree in business administration, and also bartended to help pay for classes. She had gotten her job at GemTech through a regular at the bar who transferred to another department within the company. She knew her position wasn’t “important” so leveraged her sex appeal to make up for it. Despite all the hours she worked, she put in serious time studying during office hours and maintained a pretty solid 3.0 GPA.

“Girl, the bar money is cool and gives me something to do, but I can actually pay for my tuition and live nicely on my $40k,” she said once over lunch.

“$40K?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes, girl. Can you believe it? I’m not even 21 and this company has the best salary packages ever. I’ve been here for eight months and I’m making great money.” She beamed from the table. “I know you’re making a real good salary too. You’re a communications agent. What are you getting? Like $48,000 or something like that?”

I bit down on my pasta, swallowing back the envy I felt. I was making $38,500. I made $1,500 less than her. It was a small, trivial amount, but it said enough about how I was regarded and how poorly I negotiated.

“Not quite at that level yet,” I joked, hoping to cover up my shock. “But soon enough I will be. They said they’ll give raises with reviews and commensurate with experience, so we’ll see what I accomplish.”

****

I still felt burned by Stacy’s salary reveal. She was my girl, but she didn’t deserve to make more than me. She was a secretary, for chrissakes! How is a secretary in school making more than me? I was doing alright financially, but things were still tight. 

Later that evening, when I got home, I decided to do some research. I looked up salary suggestions for my job. While the average entry-level position paid $35,000 in Texas, I knew for a fact that if Stacy could command $40,000 as a secretary, I should have asked for at least $45,000. This was nobody’s fault but my own. I never negotiated my salary. I just took what I was offered because I needed a job, and fast. But I hadn’t considered the cost of desperation. My rent and my car note, plus my student loans were eating up my earnings. What little I had left dwindled towards food, credit cards, utilities and gas. I was barely saving enough money to get regular manicures and pedicures, much less to put in my savings account.

I needed clothes, and mom and dad offered money, but I didn’t want any of it. I had made it three months without them, and I wanted to continue doing so.

I never told anyone, but I got a bunch of credit cards. I used them to run up several thousand dollars for clothing and beauty treatments to look good at the office and pamper myself after long weeks. The first two credit card payments were manageable, but after my fourth card things got really, really tight. I wanted to really increase my income so I could live a little more comfortably, without anyone’s help.

I searched the Craigslist Dallas ads as I mulled over my options. Stores were hiring for the holidays, but if I were to be honest, working retail wasn’t my thing. I graduated from Yale. There was no way I would spend my evenings and weekends getting paid minimum wage just to have some extra money in my pocket.

I peeled off my clothes and made my way to the shower. I was doing okay right now, but I had to figure something out
before
all these extra card payments pulled my cost of living underwater. Stacy was a bartender, and mom would have told me to look into bartending also, but to be honest, it wasn’t my thing. Stacy and mom were gorgeous and outgoing; they were also pretty flirtatious. I wasn’t.

This wasn’t about looks. I knew I wasn’t ugly. In fact, I was far from it. I had my mom’s pretty looks, blonde hair, green eyes and busty figure. I’d been hit on quite frequently since my teen years, but it made me realize how nasty some guys were. After a while, the attention got old, so I hid my beauty under highly conservative clothing. I mastered the art of resting bitch face and knew how to tune men out so they didn’t affect me too much.

At the same time, being so uptight didn’t help my love life either. I had been single since coming to Dallas. I didn’t like the idea of online dating, especially in a new city, and I didn’t have time to meet people at happy hour. I usually spent my time coming to or from work and vegging out in front of the TV when I wasn’t working overtime on communications projects.

As I lathered myself down with white musk and honey shower gel, I had to admit being so busy trying to leverage my foot at GemTech left me broke, horny and alone more than I’d have liked to admit. It had been so long since a man touched my body, and I had no idea when I’d have the time to date and meet a new boyfriend, or where I’d even find one.

The warm shower jets felt amazing on my skin. I took the time to get soaking wet and began lathering my breasts for the second time. Truth be told, my 36DDs were my favorite sex toy next to my pussy. Round and plump, they were buoyant, giving Kate Upton a run for her money.

My nipples were sensitive, especially sensitive when they were fondled or played with. As the water poured over my body, I turned my back to the showerhead and lathered my breasts with soap manually. I slid my hands over my breasts, rubbing them in slow, deliberate circles. I focused my attention on my nipples and imagined my ex-boyfriend, who used to stimulate them until I orgasmed almost every single time we were together, was caressing them.

“Yes, baby, just like that,” I moaned. Now he was sucking my right nipple as he pinched and rolled my left, stroking his shaft with his free hand. “Suck my tits baby.”

As my fantasy played out, my soapy hand made its way to my pussy, which was getting wet with its own dancing waters. I slid one finger in and started rubbing my G-spot. My pussy was warm, wet and tight. Touching her, I understood exactly why men loved pussy.

I was conservative at work, and not very outgoing when it came to meeting people, but I was very sexual behind closed doors. I knew my body very well and often had to release tension to keep my libido under control on a regular basis.

My pleasure became really intense. Before I knew it, my fantasy had become extremely visceral. I was on my knees, facing the shower now, two fingers deep off in my pussy. I was pretending to be showered with my ex-boyfriend’s cum. He loved to cum on my face, my chest and in my mouth. I hated it at first, but I grew to love it.

After I climaxed for the second time, I washed off and got out the shower. I cussed myself because I realized I was killing my water bill with my sexual escapades. That was like the third or fourth one I had that week.

As I drifted off to sleep, I realized how much I missed my ex. He was amazing in bed. He brought out the really submissive and slutty side of me. I wouldn’t say that I was 50 Shades submissive, but I knew how to take orders and let him control the show. It allowed me to explore various aspects of my sexuality. Nobody ever made me cum the way he did.

It would be tough to find a new man in Dallas, given my introverted attitude. But it would be even tougher to find a suitable replacement for him, given the heights he took me to.