The steady cachuck, cachuck, cachuck rythym of the tires rolling over the breaks in the asphalt reminded me of the sound of our bed when Justin found his groove and something like by SysAdmin

Author:SysAdmin [SysAdmin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2010-10-20T00:31:28.918000+00:00

arasnichols.com

~*~

Lip Service

by

Keta Diablo

The table is set with our best china―Wedgewood, the Florentine pattern. My hands

tremble when I remove the linen napkins from the hutch drawer and place them to the

left of the plates. Now, if I can only remember to light the tapered candles―Ocean

Breeze, Bryan’s favorite—before he comes through the door.

63

I so want everything to be perfect as we celebrate our fifth anniversary. Glancing

around our condo, I smile. Picture perfect, the way Bryan likes it. Maybe he’s forgotten

about our latest tiff in the two weeks he’s been gone. He’d called several times from

Japan and didn’t mention the ugly debacle, but I can’t place much stock in that. As lead

Fashion Designer at Arpel’s, the man lives and breathes his job, particularly when on

assignment. The last thing he’d think about is our fragile relationship. But it hadn’t been

fragile until our latest fight. That’s why it’s so important I get everything right tonight.

I pour a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon―no two-buck-Chuck for Bryan―and plop into

the club chair near the hearth. I allow myself a brief journey into the past, the day I met

the most magnificent man God ever breathed life into. I took a job as an intern at

Arpel’s under Bryan, and I do mean literally under Bryan. Watching the empty air, I

recall the first time we made love. His penetrating blue eyes, that’s what I remember

most, and the length and breadth of his cock when I first laid eyes on it.

If I’d had a lick of sense, I should have run. But I didn’t, and something deep inside

me screamed, “You know this is what you’ve been waiting for all your life.” I

succumbed, and willingly, and have spent every day since wanting more and more.

Bryan is like a disease I can’t rid my body of, a shameless, delicious illness for which

there’s no cure.

My cell phone vibrates in my pants pocket and draws me from my reverie. Bryan’s

number flashes before my eyes and like Pavlov’s dog, my cock responds.

“Hi,” I say, wanting to hear the sound of his voice, yet wondering why he’s calling.

“I’ve got some bad news.”

“What, tell me?”

His voice wheezes with frustration and anger. “My flight got cancelled, some

fucking wing flap dysfunction.”

“Can’t you catch another one?” I ask, trying to concentrate on his words and dispel

the sudden image of his magnificent face floating behind my eyelids. Why would God

create such a masterpiece? The aquiline nose and erotic mouth, the perfectly shaped

brows above the azure-blue eyes that hold ageless mystery and soulful passion?

64

Spank Me Twice Anthology

“Navarre, we’re talking La-fucking-Guardia here, and to make matters worse

there’s a National Guard Convention going on with five thousand delegates trying to

fly out to Jersey.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, there are no flights to Massachusetts for two days, and don’t bother

asking about a rental car. I couldn’t rent a rickshaw right now.”

I pace my breathing and try to hide my disappointment. “No sense lighting the

candles, I guess.”

“Look, I know it’s a special night, and I did my best to make it home, but . . . .”

“You remembered.”

In perfect sync with my shiver, he expels a long breath.

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