“Are you sure about that…?” His voice was warm, possibly amused with my answer, but it was difficult to tell from his impassive expression. My squeamish behavior; was it that noticeable? He looked mildly interested, but above all so powerful and in control.
“Oh yes. Very sure,” I lied. Oh Lord I lied, again. It was my first vocal lie ever in my entire life. I never even said a white lie. If I had ever been face to face with a reason to lie I would either walk away, which is rude, but better than lying, or I would tell the truth… which made me come across to most people as if I had no filter.
“Bleu-Rae Ridame, what an interesting name. I bet you can’t wait to change it.” He chuckled. As he walked deeper into the office space… I followed.
“Yes, a name change would be great.” I sighed timidly, wondering what was so interesting about my name? I guessed he was referring to my last name. Well, in this case, Bleu’s name would be a great place to start.
“Would you like to sit down?” He waved me towards the red leather buttoned U-shaped couch.
“Sure,” I replied.
The room was vast with an enormous modern black lacquer desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything else was white except on the wall by the door, there’s was a collage of small sculptures; fifty odd shapes of plaster, arranged in a triangle… they were exquisite, a series of mundane, forgotten objects. At my closer observation I noticed each piece was highly phallic, resembling female and male body parts. Displayed together, they were breathtaking. The combination was one fabulous piece of art. Expensive—I was sure of it. I stopped and stared. Mr. Maximillion followed my eyes with his.
“It was created by a local artist. Jennifer… I found her a husband two season’s ago.” He said when he caught my eyes.
“They’re lovely. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary,” I murmured, distracted, by him and by the art as I took a seat. I sank deep into the folds of the billowy sofa, feeling very unstable, and awkward. He stood hovering over me like a dark angel.
“Yes, Miss Ridame,” he replied softly, referring to the sculptures. “Very lovely, indeed.” I flushed uncomfortably, knowing very well he was no longer referring to the paintings, but me. “Are you comfortable,” he smiled.
“Not really,” I said just above a whisper, resigning to the fact that I could not lie.
“I am sorry to hear that, please, take a moment to get comfortable.” His tone was sincere. He took a seat opposite me in one of the white loungers. I shifted my weight upward, sitting on the edge of the sofa and squared my shoulders. This gave me a sense of control. If I was going to “ace” this interview; it had to be done with some dignity. He adjusted his long legs, he seemed very uncomfortable as he crossed one knee over the other, then cocked his head to one side and regarded me intently. Then he uncrossed his legs and sat with them wide apart, spread eagle to be precise. He tried crossing them again, but to no prevail spreading them into the shape of a V. My eyes inadvertently kept flashing on the oversized package that he was struggling with between his thighs. Who could blame me? It looked like the size of a very large cucumber.
I had to focus on something else, maybe his strong Greek nose—
“So what is it that you do—when you are not looking for a husband?” He smiled genuinely. His thumb rested under his chin and his index finger tapped against the bridge of is nose. For a sec, I thought it grew too, to epic lengths. God, what was in the water they gave me?
“I’m studying modeling. I attend Barbizon School of Modeling. It is supposed to be the best. I, also, sell organic produce on the side. I am very green oriented.” I knotted my fingers, and bit my lip, wondering if he approved. His organic man fruit seemed to be straining in his pants.
“I see… that’s a great start. Many stay at home mom’s are into that stuff,” he said simply. I thought that I saw a ghost of a smile in his expression, but I was not sure. Little did he know; I had no intentions of becoming a mother anytime soon.
“I have no intentions of becoming a mom anytime, in the near future.” I recklessly blurted out my thoughts. Crap, I yelled inwardly at my lack of subtlety.
He glared at me oddly, and a dissatisfied fixed stare lingered in his eyes. I could not hold his—perhaps, disappointed expression. I was certainly blowing this interview.
Blowing, now, there’s that word again that Rae had mentioned this morning. Should I offer him a blowjob of epic satisfaction for the opportunity to be on the show? He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen, easy on the eyes, and I would not mind seeing the rest of him either. A pang of blazing hot adrenaline traveled to all exteriors of my body… and riveted to the apex of my thighs. I needed a quick distraction. My eyes scanned the office.
Apart from the painting the rest of the room was pleasant enough, and quite exotic, clean… dark and handsome. But, the most gorgeous element in the office was the tempting Mr. Maximillion. He was sculpted like a Greek god, a vision of perfection, sitting perfectly posed and captivating my womanhood’s attention. My eyes fell to the large package that now seemed to be pulsating between his legs. Oh my, it felt like the air in the room had stopped flowing. The heat was unbearable. I inadvertently fanned my face with my hand. It was impossible to cool the rush; it came from deep within. I was disturbed and astonished by where my thoughts were heading.
“I think every woman needs to have her own interest.” His voice echoed in the depths of my ears.
I was temporarily preoccupied with the thought of crawling into his lap… it felt almost like a psychic premonition unfolding in my mind. The magnetic draw between us was imperceptible. I felt it. His pheromones radiated into the most primitive part of my faculties. I was on high alert to attack or be attacked.
I slinked off the sofa and crawled across the floor like a white panther on all fours. It was purely instinctual. The feeling was overwhelming. Nothing short of a natural disaster would stop me from giving pleasure to him. I was in heat—like an alley cat functioning on pure instincts. I desired to partake of his carnal flesh, and to relish in what was to come…
When I reached the foot of this strong sire, there was no trepidation, no hesitation on my part. Gracefully, I positioned my tiny frame between his long powerful legs, resting my elbows on his knees. I seductively began to unzip his pants with my teeth.
His eyes beckoned me with an expression of approval, as they locked with mine. He adorningly fixed his eyes upon my every move as I unfurled his massive sex. A wicked lascivious smile surfaced on his beautiful unshaven face. Oh my, his swollen manhood was so thick, long and pulsating from the heat of his blood.
I started by holding his member with one open fist, in which I could not completely grasp with my fingers. I then licked the length of his cock. With my other hand I massaged his balls, glancing up every now and then to see his reaction. The tip of my tongue followed along the firm dorsal vein of his sex, as I blew short warm breaths on my way up. I stroked the length of him in fluid pumping movements, heightening his lusty desire. This soared my passion too. His sturdy vessel grew in girth with every provocative touch I made, validating that he wanted me. I licked my lips, cooing and preparing to take all of him. My salacious desire was to linger on his phallus for all eternity.
I slowly inhaled deeply acclimating and lengthening the back of my throat for his vast member. I was hungry for every inch of this man’s velvet vein-y sword. My tongue swirled around the smooth enlarged crown of his cock then flickered along the sturdy edge of its head. This is an extremely sensitive area. I copulated my lips around his entire scepter, devouring his sex completely. The length of his shaft caused my throat muscles to constrict tightly around him, as I swallowed hard. This was overwhelming. Involuntary tears welled in my eyes. Tears of determination.