I pace from room to room in my home and then it hits me. Of course. A hand-me-down I have been so tempted to toss finally comes to use. I place Eric's kryptonite into my satchel along with Bea's Rules and zip on down to Hustler to get the love glove she requested. Bea has no idea what she's gotten into. Not since the great MJ has anyone been so skilled with a glove.
I swing by her office before our rendezvous, hoping to catch Eric by surprise, but her office is dark and the doors are locked. Missed him.
What does Bea have waiting for me on that 43rd floor? My stomach is tight. I need a drink.
I valet at the Hyatt and go straight to the lobby bar with my not-a-man-purse. Nothing soothes me more than a few ounces of Don Julio. The nurse behind the bar dispenses my sedative with salt and lime. The glass barely meets the bar before I throw it back and request another. I review Bea's Rules again and wonder if she can get me weak enough to sign. Another glass of courage appears and the nurse smirks.
"Somebody must have an important meeting."
"Darling, you have no idea."
"What's with the paper? Divorce settlement?"
"Not quite."
I'm tempted to show it to my new friend as I've found the best advice often comes across a bar. Still, one of Bea's Rules is no sharing. I need to see where this goes.
"Let's just say I need to perform a service, best delivered with agave."
"Go get her, Tiger. Oh, and I hope you like candles."
"Wait ... what?"
She smiles and walks away. I slam the shot and head for the elevator. As I stroll toward 4301 I hear Frank Sinatra crooning. The door is ajar. There's flickering golden light and the scent of vanilla. I push slowly and enter the foyer of a massive penthouse. A path of candles leads toward the back. "The Way You Look Tonight" plays from an iPod stereo above the wet bar. I need another drink. I find a mini-bottle of Cuervo. This will do. Down it goes. Time to follow the yellow candlestick road.
As I round the corner the candles lead to the double doors of a master suite. I turn both knobs and slide the doors open. In the golden strobe of candlelight is my love, naked and tied spread eagle to the bed, wearing an old school hockey mask, a la Friday the 13th. Fuck! She's so hot and mysterious.
"Hello, Lovergirl."
"I seem to have gotten myself into a bind, Uncle M. Can you help me?" she muffles through the mask.
"Perhaps."
I place my satchel next to the bed, remove the love glove from it's package, and place it on my left hand like a surgeon.
"Black. As requested."
"Mmm. Does that mean you have agreed to the terms of our arrangement?"
"Maybe."
I flip the switch on the back of the glove and it vibrates gently. She's going to pay for teasing me so. I lie next to her and kiss her ear and neck as I run my gloved hand up her left thigh. She arches her back in anticipation. I whisper in her ear.
"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you tonight?"
"Yes."
"I don't think you do. You're quite brave, Lovergirl. You don't know me that well. I could be insane ... and you're so helpless right now. I could do almost anything to you."
"I'm frightened."
"You should be."
I run my glove lightly across her engorged nipples as I bite her earlobe. She thrusts her hips when I run the glove down her torso, stopping just above her clit.
"Please, Uncle M, I need you."
"Not yet, Lovergirl."
I flip the glove switch off and get up from the bed.
"What are you doing? Get back down here, Silver!"
"Candles. I love candles."
I take a candle from the side table and hold it over her body. She gasps as I drip hot wax onto her nipples. She's about to explode. I place a gentle kiss on her love button.
Suddenly I hear a thump coming from the closet. Holy shit! Someone is here. I should have known. She couldn't have tied herself.
You, in the closet, show yourself. As the door slides open, I see a man and a camera. Jesus.
"Eric? What the hell is going on?"
"Crap," Bea exclaims.
"Come out of that closet right now, Eric."
Eric smiles and responds, "Again?"
(she will pay in Chapter 7)
This is hilarious! Tammy J. Palmer
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