His skin was the color of charred bronze, which wasn’t a way I'd ever described anything before. Actually, most people didn’t strike me as anything worthy of looking at so intently, especially not at the gym. But I watched him. I was transfixed by the sheer flawlessness of the man before me. I could see beads of perspiration dotting his flesh. Sweet moisture studding across the small specs of hair that lay sparse across his chiseled upper body. I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t seem to turn my gaze away. I was mercilessly enraptured by the sweet nectar emanating undoubtedly from the heat that coiled from within him.
It was like wisps of mist vaporizing on pavement on a scorching summer day, and I could feel my body responding to the primal nature of his own. His body glinted, fueling the fire starting between my legs. He seemed like a god in my eyes. I took stock of the man. He was tall, dark, perfect skin, muscular, lean body. He was regal and svelte with every movement he made, no matter how slight it was.
Onlookers and passerby’s melted into my periphery as I looked at this man. I knew I too was looked at often, but my curvy hips and breasts which tapering into my tiny waist, seemed nothing in comparison to the beauty of the man before me. At this moment, I could see nothing but him. It was as if my very world narrowed down into that moment where I stared transfixed at him, completely enamored with his mere existence. No one else existed to me at that very moment. No one else could compete in his space.
This God, I thought in awe. No one else compared. They didn't matter. Just him. He was pumping iron in the gym that I visited every day, and yet here I was sure that I had never seen the man before. Surely, if I had seen him, I never would have forgotten him. He wasn’t even the type of man that I usually went for, and yet I couldn’t think of anything else but him. I only hoped that he wouldn’t notice the intensity in which I was staring at him, and yet another part of me wanted him to see me.
As if reading my thoughts, that’s when that godly man turned his deep, dark gaze toward me. Even his eyes were more intense than I thought any man was capable of. He winked at me, pausing with one bicep curled, flashing a coy smile. I needed to know him, but suddenly my fate was altered in one simple smile. It was as if he had cast a net, and I had not even moved to get out from under it. I had stood there, dumb struck like most men would be to a siren or an angel. I could feel myself grabbing my bag, toweling the machine down as if on auto piolet and moving over to go see him. I watched as his eyes never left mine, and he continued to do reps. He continued to work as if nothing else mattered in the world.
“Hey.” I said, and I had never sounded so more demure as I did in that moment. I sounded completely vulnerable, but who couldn’t be vulnerable in comparison to such perfection?
“Hello…” He said, and I felt compelled to say my name.
“Carlie.” I said, and he smiled.
“Hello, Carlie.” He said in a deep, husky voice with an accent that I couldn’t quite place, but I was sure that it’d make anything the man say something that would always seem exotic to me. Even my own name.
“Ivan.” He said, and I smiled as he extended one large, rough hand to me. I went to shake it, but instead he clutched my delicate hand in his massive one, bringing it up to his lips as he kissed my knuckles. That’s when I knew that he must be a God. No one acted like that anymore, and yet it had that pulsing, desire and need double inside of me. I was truly caught.
Chapter Two
Everything seemed to pass in a blur. I couldn’t help it. He had romanced me off my feet in a way that I didn’t think men could. There was that small voice inside of me that didn’t think that I was worthy of this man, but wherever we went people stared. No matter where we went they smiled at us, and men and women checked us out in turn. Some seemed to gawk, and I thought at first that it was because of him, but I realized soon that they were also looking at me. I was used to attention, but it was nothing to the attention that they gave me when I was with Ivan as well.
“They know what we are.” I remember him whispering in my ear as I got in the car that night, going from the restaurant to his loft.
“What?” I asked, as he opened the door for me. I slid in to that black, elegant Porsche like it should always belong to me, but it was his. He didn’t answer until he was sitting behind the steering wheel as well. There was a devilish, almost childlike grin on his face as he looked at me with those dark, piercing eyes. He filled the car more than any man should. His presence seemed to crackle in the air around us.
“That we’re top in this world. Lean, fit, beautiful.” He said, each word like a gentle caress.
“That we belong at the top. You belong at the top too, my darling.” He told me, and I blushed deep and darkly compared to my tanned, olive colored skin. I had wild hair that seemed damp with the moisture in the air, and I wondered how much of it my sweat was. I wouldn’t have to wonder long.
Nothing around me was the same. Even my own flat didn’
t seem perfect enough. I wanted more. I deserved more. I wanted and deserved him, but he wasn’t here right now. Cutting vegetables to have my mother over had never seen such a daunting task to concentrate on before. My mind once again wandered.
That night was like no other. It was beautiful and it was primal. The way that he had me bouncing up and down on the largest, hardest cock I had ever seen. It was thick, long, and muscular like everything else about him. I wanted to marvel at it, and I quickly took it in my mouth as I watched those perfect, dark eyes narrow in amusement at me as his fingers wrapped in my wild hair.
I mewled around it with need, and he hadn’t let me stay like that for long. Unlike most men who would have just climbed on top of me, it seemed that Ivan had no intention of rutting on top of my lean body until he was finished. Instead, he had picked me up, placing me on my hands and knees with my ass prominently in the air before his large, calloused hands had grabbed my hips, pushing himself deep inside of me with one long thrust.
It seemed like my entire world exploded into the pleasure that he was bringing me, entering me and pulling out again in a rhythmic perfect pattern that I still couldn’t seem to predict. He was gentle at first, but determined with no words seeming to be needed between us. I hadn’t been drunk. I hadn’t even drank that night, but I was drunk on anticipation and lust that I had been feeling since I saw him that day in the gym. I had found out that he was sixty-one, and I was about to turn twenty-one. I knew that should be a turn off, but as I thought when I heard it, it just meant that he was more skilled of a lover than I had imagined. My own personal sex God, which he proved again and again as I came, writhing on his cock as he filled every inch of me.
* * *
I nearly cut myself. The knife grazed my skin, making me swear as I was sharply pulled back into reality. Cursing, I went to clean the blade and put the cabbage in the colander so that I could rinse it. Stir fry was one of my mother’s favorite, and since I hadn’t seen her in so long (she had been in Wales for the longest time on another ‘finding herself’ mission, and had gotten in earlier this month without telling me), I wanted to make a good impression. It didn’t take long for me to get back in the hang of everything, once again feeling the slickness between my legs as I started to drip, thinking of all of the ways he had opened me up before him, making my most primal side scream with wild abandon for him to never stop.
I hadn’t thought such positions were even able to be done. With the way he had me bent almost in half. I could see myself dripping. I could see my pussy lips stretched out around his dark, midnight shaft as it plunged into me again and again. I could see his glutes squeeze every time he thrust into me particularly hard, and I stared at our lovemaking, my small hands on my large breasts. It had taken me a week to trust him to contort me in such a fashion, and even now my muscles strained, but it felt good. It made the release all the more worth it as I watched my legs were held up in the air by his strong hands. My back curved against the headboard as he pounded into me.
“Oh God, Ivan.” I shouted as I came. Again. I had come so many times I had long ago lost track. This man seemed to know how to play my body like no other could. He seemed to be able to play my body better than even I could, and he had long since made any toy I had completely worthless to me. I was addicted, and in that moment I didn’t care.
“Oh, Carlie.” He grunted as he continued. “Shush, now. I’ll put that pretty little mouth of yours to use cleaning me off when I’m done.” He had growled at me, much like the animal he was when he was lost in the pleasure of my body. I came at those words too.
* * *
The vegetables were all done now. I made a mental note, trying to wrench myself from the thoughts again. It had been a week since I had seen or heard from him. I couldn’t help but to wonder what I had done wrong. I knew I’d have to find him again, and I had been aching since the last time he had played my body to a tune that only he seemed to know.
Cauliflower? Check. Broccoli? Check. Cabbage, carrots, onion, sweet potato, which my mother loved. It was all there, and yet I couldn’t help but to think I was missing something. The jasmine rice was waiting, and then it hit me. I had almost forgot the damn chicken. I had marinated it yesterday in all of the Caribbean spices my mother loved, but I had almost forgot to start cooking it first. God. Even without him being here he wreaked havoc on me. I started to heat the coconut oil in the large skillet, putting the chicken in just as it started to sizzle before being pulled back into my own head, consumed by my need for him.
Chapter Three