1. The Bad Boy


    Date: 9/11/2015, Categories: Hardcore, Author: Adamgunn, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

    was it, Reggie was going to have a ‘romantic’ night, something we hadn’t done in quite awhile. I had almost three hours until my lover came to meet me, all the time in the world. I ate a salad, had a glass of wine to relax me. I figured Reggie planned on spending the evening here, I changed the sheets to an ivory pattern of smoothest Egyptian cotton. Then it was into the bathroom. I poured the tub, full of bubbles, and for forty minutes let my mind wander. Did it touch upon a return to Illicit, the thought of sex with other men? Yes, perhaps. But Reggie was there too, the wonderful things he did, the things he knew, the experiences and feelings he cultivated in me. I drained the tub, shaved my pits and every inch of my nether region, save only the three square inches of cropped hair I kept for emphasis. Then I paid attention to my hair, drying it, fluffing my short mahogany locks into their place. I plucked and trimmed my brows, applied eye coloring and mascara. Foundation stick and blush were used, and finally I applied shimmering strawberry gloss to my lips. The mantle clock chimed nine times, that was all right, Reggie knew I was never ready on time. I put the clothing Reggie had left for me on, they were of the highest quality, made my skin feel so fantastic. The earrings accented my outfit perfectly, I could stand and walk - barely - in the extreme heels. I knew I was ready to play the part of the thousand dollar a night escort. I lit a few candles in the bedroom, put ...
    the music on the bluetooth. I sat in a chair in the living room, trying my best not to muss, thumbing through a magazine. The article I read was titled, ’15 Things Guys Think When You're on Top.’ Did Reggie really worry about whose job it was to put it back in when it popped out, or concern himself with how (or if) he should move? Okay, that wasn’t doing it. How about a story? I picked up a book of women’s erotica. That was better, it was really starting to get me in the mood. That stupid clock dinged ten times, Reggie was really late. Should I worry, text him? No, not yet. He’d been late before. But maybe I could start without him? Sure! I swayed into the bedroom, composed myself, put a hand in to twist a nipple. Yes, that was good. The music from the playlist soothed me, I let my hand descend to my pubis. Through the fabric I irritated my clit, I was getting somewhere, I was about to push the fabric to the side when I heard a key scratch in the lock. My lover was here. Should I go out to meet him, or wait for him to come to me? Then I heard his voice. “Hello?” But it wasn’t his voice, it was two shades too low, filled with a timbre I wasn’t familiar with. “Hello?” I heard again. “Who is it?” I cried. “What are you doing here?” I rose excitedly, grabbed a throw and covered myself, didn’t know just what I should do. I picked up the phone, ready to call 911. “Reggie sent me,” the voice explained. “Reggie sent you? Who are you? He didn’t tell me anything about this.” “Oh, I’m ...
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