Afternoon In La La Land

Chapter One: In You Go

"So anyway, after several bombs – a lot of bombs actually, a whole string – he just stopped making films. Nobody would cast him anymore. Box office poison they all said. Lost his studio conFtract, and couldn't get another one. From the top of the world to unemployable, in what must have seemed like overnight. Eventually he just... ran out of money. He was still living like a movie star years after he was one, and he just ran out. I think the tax man got the place, just ahead of any number of other creditors. That was in the late thirties. Early forties, maybe. Somewhere around there."

The real estate agent's voice echoed a bit as we wandered through the vast, empty rooms. She was in full pitch mode and working hard to drum up some romance, or at least some interest, in the place. Not that it needed it, really. But at this asking price you played every angle.

"Must be a fairly common story in this town. Falling stars." I blinked hard as we moved through tall french doors from the dim, still interior and back into the brilliance of the afternoon sunshine.

"I suppose so. I guess it's easier to get into the habit of being a star – a movie star, a rock star, whatever – than it is to get out of it. And stardom is so very expensive, you know, in so many different ways. On the good side, it does leave behind a lot of prime real estate for the rest of us to buy."

For one of us to buy, actually, I thought. And for one of us to broker the deal for the current owner, collecting a tidy commission for her efforts. But I let that pass. "Nice place. For this kind of money, it had better be," I said instead.

We wandered through a garden and ended up by the edge of the pool. It was surrounded by a wide deck of brick paving, some more flowers, and then a lot of grass. Not enough for a polo match, maybe, but a lot of grass. The place was surrounded by tall hedges trimmed carefully as a championship poodle, with eucalyptus trees densely planted behind them. A cabana was off to one side, an outdoor bar on the other, and a pair of tennis courts were down the hill and past some more trees – you could just see the lights over the treetops. The property was so large and wooded there wasn't another house in sight. Somebody could throw one hell of a party in this back yard, I thought.

"Oh, there isn't a better property in the whole city. Or a better city, anywhere. This is still a movie star kind of neighborhood, you know. Even though the current owner is an investment banker."

"These days, that pays a whole lot better than the movies. More reliably, at least. And I should know."

The heat had been brutal for days, the entire time I'd been house hunting. Southern California in August can be like that. We'd spoken over the phone, she and I, and then met at her office. She'd driven us out in the agency's huge Mercedes Benz. My agent couldn't make it, so it was just the two of us wandering through the house, looking at the yard, admiring the pool.

"It pays well enough that the owner has actually traded up, if you can believe it. For an even bigger place, just over the line in Bel Air. Although I can't imagine a better property, anywhere, if you want my opinion. And that's only Los Angeles over there, you know, The City Of. Not Beverly Hills. But you'll have to keep that in mind, if you decide to make an offer. This guy can afford to hold out for his asking price."

"I'll need to think about it some more. Before we start talking numbers."

"Everybody who sees this place just loves it. You'll have to move fast if you want to grab it."

Typical real estate bullshit, I thought. But I let that pass too. The property had been on the market for just over a year, and the asking price had been cut in stages from preposterous to outrageous to merely absurd. And having this much money tied up in a declining asset would be hard on anyone, even an investment banker. I'd keep that in mind if I decided to make an offer.

Near the cabana, directly in the sunshine of the early afternoon, were half a dozen deck chairs, flanked by several small tables. Walking past, she'd dropped her purse onto one of the tables; I laid the jacket I'd been carrying all day on a chair. The farthest table held a bottle of very expensive French suntan lotion and a stack of crisp white towels, folded neatly. Several more towels, bunched up, were crumpled below. Her eyes followed mine.

"Hmmm, looks like somebody from the office has been working on their tan, and didn't clean up after," she explained. "It's OK, really it is. The owner doesn't mind if we use the place, somebody might as well, and he's paying for the maintenance anyway. But we're supposed to clean up after."

"They probably expect to come back."

"Not today. We have an exclusive listing, you know. And I've got our only key."

Inside the house had been like a slow oven. The air conditioning should have been left on, but it wasn't. She was wearing a filmy silk dress of dark, shimmering gold, which set off her short tawny wave and deep California tan. All three were nicely complimented by a discrete jade necklace and earring set, which had matched her green eyes in the full summer's sun. Inside, that light streaming through uncurtained windows cut an absolutely perfect silhouette of a nearly perfect figure. On such a scorching day, she hadn't worn a slip – she spent a lot of time working out, I judged. While we walked, I had listened carefully in the sweltering stillness to the quiet whisk of nylon between her thighs. I'd had a lot of innocent fun trying to guess stockings or pantyhose.

Now, as we stood next to the pool, I savored the sight of cool blue water on such a hot day. "This is the best place I've looked at. By a wide margin. So far, at least, I think I could live here."

She tried hard to act nonchalant. But her eyes lit like fireworks. Jade green fireworks. At anything close to the asking price, she was in for a big payday.

"So you're definitely going to make an offer?" Of course, she'd want to seal the deal as soon as possible. But I was in no hurry.

"Well, I still have to think about it – for a while anyway. Let's go swimming."

Before she could react, I reached up, worked the button behind her neck, and had the zipper running down her back. With so many emotions hitting all at once, she seemed to freeze on the spot. Sensory overload, maybe. I guess that's what I was counting on. I stepped behind and had the dress slipping off her shoulders before she could move.

Panicked hands shot up to the neckline, keeping it from falling to the deck, and her eyes opened even wider, wild. But she didn't say anything.

I moved up close behind, pinched the fabric and gently pulled the dress down. She didn't let go, exactly. But she didn't grab hold. Designer silk slipped softly through her fingertips.

My head over her shoulder, I watched between lacy cleavage as it fluttered to a heap at our feet. Running my fingertips up her side, thumbnails dragging, and across her tummy, she shuddered below my hands. I can be a bit of an ass sometimes, and I liked making her shiver like that.

Hands on her hips and my nose in her hair, I pulled in tight from neck to bottom. Breathed deep her mixed scents of perfume and shampoo. But just for a second.

Holding her gently across the navel with my left hand, I reached up and unhooked her bra with my right. That's hard to do one handed, and it took a couple of tries. Her hands were back up, now against the cups. I casually slid the straps off her shoulders, and reached around, placing my hands over hers.

Pressing my fingers between her fingers, I squeezed hand and bra and breast; then pulled straight down firmly. Delicate tan lace drifted lazily through the afternoon's sunshine.

On one knee behind, I whisked down pantyhose and panties all at once, bunching them around pure white heels. Her panties were tan lace too, matching her bra.

Grasping one ankle firmly to help steady her, I lifted up and pulled everything off, then did the same for the other. She stood naked except for her jewelry, her carefully selected outfit crumpled on the deck.

I didn't think she'd taken a breath since the button popped.

I stood up very slowly, still with her between me and the cool blue water, letting my fingers run up her legs. Then gave a playful swat to her bare backside, fairly hard. The smack resounded a bit in the hot, heavy air. "In you go!"

And she did.

Which kind of amazed me, actually. I really didn't expect to get away with it. Didn't even think I'd go through with it, right up to the instant I'd reached for the button.

*****

Chapter Two: The Deep End

The thought had begun building in my mind when we'd gotten into the car outside her office. Vaguely, at first; formless. I'd just met her. Knew absolutely nothing about her. Wasn't even interested in her, to tell the truth – and certainly not in that way. Maybe it was admiring her silhouetted figure, but the thought of getting her naked had amused me. I don't know why.

She went down the steps, into water to her knees, then walked across the bottom from shallow towards deep until the water was waist high. Leaning forward, she breast stroked straight across the pool, carefully keeping her hair dry. At the far end, she reached up to grab the tile edge, the water playing around her shoulders, turned and waited.

I stood, watching; savoring the moment. Remembering the look in her eyes, the feel of her skin, her shudder below me as my fingers traced the path from ankle bone to hip bone, her smooth derrière inches from my nose. I had liked that a lot. Which amazed me too, in its own way.

Very slowly, deliberately, I picked up her things, straightening them out and carefully laying them on a chair. Taking my time, not looking at her, I undressed completely. I folded my clothes and laid them on top of hers. Aware of the symbolism. Then turned and dove in hard, letting my momentum carry me underwater until I broke the surface almost halfway across the pool. I paddled the rest of the way, reaching up to grab the edge a foot or so from her hand.

I half expected the jolt of cool water to shock some sense into one of us, to break the spell. Somehow it didn't. We just held like that, treading water together. Close enough to touch, but not touching.

"Water feels good, doesn't it? After all that heat." Deliberately innocuous. I wanted to keep her waiting. For what, exactly? I wondered. She just looked at me, green eyes still very wide, biting her lower lip ever so gently as the water lapped at her shoulders. At least she was breathing again, short and quick.

Turning to face the house, I admired the view. When you've seen one Italianate villa with herringbone floors, marble columns and leaded glass windows, you've pretty much seen them all. I'd checked out over half a dozen in the last few days. It's as close to the local style as you can get in the Land of Make Believe. Most were pretty awful, to tell the truth. But this one seemed different. A little less phony than the others. Substantial. Looking up from such a low angle made the house seem even more solid. And after twenty years in a Park Avenue co-op, I really liked the idea of having all that space.

I let my hand slide across the coping, over hers. She flinched at our touch, but didn't let go. I reached across with my other to pull a stray strand of tawny hair out of her eyes. She flinched again.

I noticed that her knuckles were very white, gripping the pool's edge, and that she was trembling all over, slightly. And that her nips were very hard. The water wasn't that cold. I held, suspended, for a few seconds more. Considering my next move carefully.

"Wait here." Pressing my feet square into the pool's side, I pushed off and swam back to the shallow end. I walked over to the jacket I'd left behind and pulled out the cell phone.

Walking around, taking my time, admiring the flowers, I stood directly over her. My toes curled around the tile edge on either side of her hand as she stared straight up at me. I was pretty sure her eyes hadn't blinked even once. Looking up like that, all she could possibly see would be cock. Not erect, not even hard. But firm. Definitely firm. Which surprised me.

Wasn't I expecting that? I wondered. How big a jerk am I? I wondered.

I took a small step to the right, and sat down on the pool's edge, letting my feet dangle in the water. I tapped my private number, and it was picked up halfway through the first ring. Just a simple, nondescript "Hello," and then silence. If someone didn't know who they were dialing, I wouldn't want to take their call.

"Hi Sweetheart. Found a house, one I think I like. I'm going to need to free up that cash, like we talked about, real soon. Have you talked to that no good, lazy, son of a bitch accountant of mine lately?"

"Of course I have, Boss," she answered, as chipper as always. "Daily, sometimes hourly. He sends his love too."

"I don't need the love, Love. Just the money. How much and when?"

"More than you deserve, you bastard. The way you treat us, all of us here. Running off to sunny skies leaving us behind to freeze our asses off."

"It was over eighty degrees, and damn near eighty percent, when I left. Has it snowed already?"

"Soon. Any day now, really. We'll all be bundled up like Eskimos and you'll be basking in the sun. I hope you burn to a crisp. Ever hear of melanoma, you idiot?"

"I'll e-mail everyone photos come February. Of sunny beaches and palm trees. That'll warm your hearts, at least."

"I'll warm your butt, myself, personally, if you don't send us all gift baskets, at the very least, from that godforsaken place. Really big ones, with lots of exotic goodies inside. And huge bonuses. Winter coats are expensive, or have you forgotten already?"

"Take care of it for me, will you, Precious?"

"Don't I always take good care of you? Not that you deserve it, you bastard. Running away like that on a whim."

She had remained at my side. Listening? I couldn't tell. But waiting, still. As I was sitting there, thinking, considering, imagining, I'd passed firm and started to get reasonably hard. How big a bastard was I? I shifted the phone to my other hand and used a fingertip to tickle her nose playfully. She still didn't blink. I slid down, careful not to smear her lipstick, and pressed the cute little dimple on her chin like a button. Her lips parted, just slightly.

I reached around, fingers beneath her hair. Cupped the base of her skull, right at the top of the spine. Pulled her up a little and around my knee, to between. Listening to the quiet swish of the water passing by naked skin. Her neck, shoulders and breasts were a perfect deep honey tan, all over. Her bottom had been pale, I recalled. She sunbathed topless, but not nude.

"You take very, very good care of me, Princess. Because I pay you an obscene amount of money. And then I let you abuse me whenever you like, which is always. But why do I put up with you?" I pulled in slightly. Then a little more. Both her hands were now on the edge of the pool, on either side of me. Holding on, not pressing outward, not resisting in the least. I noticed again how wide her eyes were, and how green. How her jade necklace and tiny earrings set them off perfectly. And that her cheeks were flushed very red – they contrasted nicely. But also that she was keeping her head at exactly the right level, and her lips were still parted.

"Because you need me, Boss. You need someone to stay here in the freezing cold and watch all the people who have their hands in your pockets. While you gallivant in the sun."

Fraction by fraction, she approached, letting me guide her in. Eyes focused straight ahead. Licked her lips quickly, suddenly, less than an inch away. Opened a tiny bit wider, and I was in. I kept pulling firmly. Straight in, hard. I like deep.

"So, speaking of the hands in my pockets, is he around?"

"Your lazy no good son of a bitch accountant is out with your lazy no good shyster lawyer. They're both over talking to your lazy no good thieving banker, setting things up, signing papers. Making foolish promises, no doubt. Telling outrageous lies. All to help our lazy no good idiot bastard of a boss buy a stupid house in a stupid climate."

She was straining against my hand, her tongue up at the back of her throat as my cock pushed in, keeping me from going too far. Her right hand had come off the tile edge of the pool as I entered, and was gripping me tight halfway up the shaft and pumping tentatively. I wasn't going to let her get away with that, of course.

"Ummm, hold on for a second, Cupcake. Going to ahhh... going to put you on hold, be right back."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm not running away to Never Never Land."

I thumbed the 'hold' button, and set the phone down on the brick paving. Taking her wrist, I pulled the hand off of me, and placed it firmly back on the pool's edge. Significantly. I noticed her carefully manicured and painted fingernails for the first time. A pale pink shade, pearlescent, like a sea shell. Deliberately, I stopped pressing her head, and she started to let me slip out. I pressed in again, slightly, fingertips only, keeping my cock inside her. She didn't strain against my hand at all, she just allowed me to position her.

"Look at me."

She did. Her eyes fluttered several times, adjusting to the new focus distance. Was it the first time she'd blinked since her dress hit the deck? I admired the sight of her lips, the exact pink and pearlescent shade as her fingernails, stretching hard and wrapped tight around, jade eyes blazing, gazing up at me. It was a very pretty sight.

"Put down your tongue." I could feel it wiggle under me. That was a good sign, I thought. She could be taught, she was willing to learn. "I want to be deep inside you. I don't want to fight you, to pull. I want you to do it, and do it by yourself. Now, take me deep." She hesitated for just a second, blinked a couple more times, and then slipped forward slightly, less than an inch. Not nearly enough, not yet. Kept looking up at me. "More." Another fraction, sucking hard now. "A lot more." Not a lot. But deeper, again. She was starting to gag, just a little; her breaths now very quick and very shallow, looking straight up into my eyes. "Still more." Still more.

"That deep. Each time. Understand?"

She looked up at me, fluttering once again. Tears in the corner of her eyes, small ones, grew larger as I watched. She held me deep, though, still. I admired her vastly – that isn't an easy thing to do. And very hard to hold for so long.

"Now suck. Hard, that deep, every time."

"Back again, Dearest. Ummm..., they're all talking you said. All of them, all of the guys. What kind of numbers, did he say? When, ahhh... when? How soon? And, ahhh... how much is all of... ahhh, all of this, ahhh... going to cost me?"

"Up to mid six figures right away, even high six if you need it, way more than enough to open the escrow. From the certificates. They'll work it out, whenever you say, at a moment's notice, with no penalty. They'll stretch the rules hard for you, not that you've ever given any of us anything but grief. More, more than enough, when you need it, later. For the closing. Part from the accounts and part from the certificates, with the credit lines available if necessary. Again, some from each. A package deal, they'll work it out, no problem."

"Ummm, yeah. That's good, ahhh... very good, Sweetheart, really, very good. I... I appreciate it, you know... ahhh... really, I do. Really. All you all do for me. All, ahhh... all of you, everybody. There. All ahhh... all everybody there does. For me. Really."

"Boss, can I ask you a very personal question?"

"Would it, ahhh..., would it matter if, ahhh..., if I said no?"