Stacy stood at the gate. The address had to be wrong. This place was a mansion. She turned and walked back to her car, pulling out her phone to send another text.
Haha. Now what's your real address?
Justin had been putting off meeting her for months. He hadn't sent any pictures, and neither had she. Both put little stock in appearances. There was something more than lust between them, more than chemical attraction. They'd spent months chatting online, talking to one another on the phone. She'd known after that second call that she was hooked. She didn't care about appearances, but his voice? She thought she'd melt away and have to scoop up the puddle under her bed. She did end up with a bit of a puddle and had to change her sheets.
He could talk the panties off any woman but assured her he didn't. He also assured her that her voice was like honey to his sweet tooth and he couldn't wait to kiss the lips that said such naughty, dirty things. He couldn't wait to be in the same room with that screaming, grunting woman when she surrendered to her passion.
What do you mean? Wait!
They'd talked about work, and he'd envied her the lower stress of her family bookkeeping. She worked for family businesses, helping with the accounting for entrepreneurs, particularly immigrants. She didn't think it was low stress, but compared to software design deadlines, it sounded like a dream.
The gates opened and a round man came trotting toward them from the house.
"Stacy?" he said, panting.
She knew that voice. She looked over his pudgy belly and limp dirty blond hair. A pair of classic Jerry Lee glasses perched on his nose, making his eyes buggy behind the thick black plastic rims. His nose was small and little squashed, and his plump lips were parted and he gasped for breath.
"Don't go," he said. "This is my house." He leaned on his knees for another moment and then stood, his hands reaching for her arms.
She still held her phone in one hand and the other rested on her purse strap, ready to toss it in the car.
"Justin?" she said in disbelief.
He nodded and smiled.
That did it. She didn't judge by appearances. She knew this man and had been pleading to meet with him. His smile, although she'd never seen it before, was instantly familiar, like she'd dreamed it a thousand times. She let go the strap and touched his cheek briefly before hugging him tightly.
His hands crossed behind her back, brushing her ass cheeks as he pulled her closer. "I never thought you'd be so beautiful," he murmured, his voice muffled by her shoulder.
"I didn't know you were rich!" she said backing up and gaping. "This...is a mansion!"
He smiled. "I'm glad you like it."
She smirked. "I didn't say that. I think you just intimidated me."
"Well, you're intimidating me," he argued. "I assumed you didn't want to post your picture because you looked like me."
Stacy blushed a little, looking down. She wore shorts, and her legs were long and slender, just like her mother's. They were white, though. It wasn't warm in Michigan like it was here. She was glad she'd brought her swimsuit. "You have a pool back there?" she asked, slipping and arm around Justin's ample waist and turning him to the house.
"Yeah. You want to swim? I...I have a pair of board shorts...I think."
"You think?" She gaped a moment. "You don't swim every night? It's freaking gorgeous here."
"Yes," he said smiling, "it is." He didn't look around, just at her.
She smirked again. "Please, I'm not that good looking." Her breasts were tiny nubs and her nose was long and pointed. She also wore glasses, though she only needed them for long distances, driving. Her teeth were abysmal. Her parents hadn't been able to afford braces and she never thought it mattered much. Her hair, like his, was a dirty color, not blond, not brown, just...bleh. She tied it back most often, never knowing what to do with it.
"You are," he insisted. "I...Your swimsuit...I...Give me a few minutes, okay?" he said, after ushering her through several doors. The one he opened and shut quickly seemed to be a bedroom in the split second she saw it. There was definitely a computer in there, and dirty dishes, and...he lived in there. She looked around the rest of the house and saw how pristine it was. The opposite of that flash.
She knocked. "Justin? Can I come in?"
"No." His voice was strained and he seemed to be grunting. "Just need...a few..."
Stacy crossed her arms. She'd shared a lot with this man. She should know what he was doing right now.
Her arms fell to her sides. "Justin? Are you whacking off?"
"No!" he said, his voice even more harsh.
"I'm coming in," she warned, opening the door.
"No, please, I."
Sure enough, he had his pants around his ankles and his dick in his hand. He ran for the attached bath, tripping on his pants and falling.
Stacy ran to him, flipped him onto his back and sat astride his full belly. "I'm here to help with that," she reminded him, nearly laughing. "You don't have to do it yourself tonight." She slid back to his thighs and ran her hand over him. He wasn't remarkable here either, but after having a few large men, she could appreciate someone that fit her.
"I couldn't go out in shorts," he tried to explain. "You would know right away."
She laughed again and leaned down, kissing him as she'd been longing to since he first spoke. It was a first kiss, gentle and warm. She rubbed his cheek with her thumb. "I wouldn't mind."
She turned her head and saw the deep blue night sky and the lanterns surrounding the pool.
"That's it?" she asked.
"Yeah. I can take care of this and then-"
"No. I'm taking care of this and you're taking care of me. Then, if we have any energy left at all, we can do it again out there."
Justin almost squeaked. "Really?"
She frowned. "Why? What's wrong?"
"I just thought, now that you've seen me, you might change your mind."
She smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. This time she let her tongue brush his lips, waited for them to part and put all of her longing into it. She had been waiting months for this man and he thought she was running away?
"Silly man," she whispered before resuming the kiss and stroking him again. When she slid up, rubbing herself on his leg, she told him. "If you don't start touching me soon, I might go." It was an empty threat, but he didn't disappoint, sliding his hands up the back of her legs and under her shirt. He kissed her throat and hummed against it, almost purring.
"Fuck, Stacy, I never thought you'd stay. I never thought I'd get to touch you."
"Silly man," she said again, reaching down to unfasten her shorts. "I have wanted you since you told me why you're alone, since you admitted you were scared. I'm scared, too, but I'd rather be with you, and fear losing you, than never have you at all."
He moaned and she felt him twitch in her hand. "Thank you, Stacy."
"For what?" she asked, afraid he was going to thank her for not running away or something equally stupid.
"For convincing me to do this. I don't think I could have come to you."
She smiled and kissed him again. "I love you, Justin Walker."
"I love you, Stacy Medici. Please stay."
"For now," she agreed. "Now hurry up and get these off," she complained, kicking down her shorts.
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