Little Black Book Ch. 01

1

Katelyn woke up naked, hung-over and bleary eyed. She yawned, reaching up to the ceiling with her elegant arms and arched her sculpted back like she did every morning, just a little bit less gracefully on this morning. All of the sudden, she realized that her smooth long legs were in between soft, warm flannel sheets. She didn't own flannel sheets. These weren't hers! Her eyes flew open. She saw her long auburn hair tussled across a pillow encased in blue and green flannel. Her gaze traveled out to chestnut colored walls and a window with sunlight creeping through unfamiliar dark wooden paneled blinds.

"Oh no!" she thought.

The last thing she remembered was having a great time at a fancy company Christmas party that her friend Sara invited her to. Working as a freelance interior designer has its perks but around the holidays it does seem a little lonely, so she accepted the invite with holiday cheer. The company function was held in the decked out, fully restored lobby and screening rooms of the old Fox Theater in Fullerton. Everyone was dressed like they were going to an Oscars Award Ceremony and she was no exception.

Katelyn was shining in a sleek black, floor length gown that dipped dangerously low in the back showing off the creamy skin from her neck to where a teasing hint of soft curve indicated the starting point of her buttocks. The gown came up high in the front just under her clavicles, in mock modesty, held up by two spaghetti thin straps that wrapped delicately around her shoulders. You could see every curve through the silky black material. It looked like she was wearing a second skin, ready to be shed at will.

She remembered flirting with a good looking man, whom her friend Sara claimed she had never saw before.

"Well", she thought, looking back, "I had one too many Rangpour martinis to be the best judge of attractiveness." One thing was certain now, though; she didn't know where she was, where her dress ran off to, or whose bed she was lying naked in.

"So. I see you're awake." said a slightly familiar and amused voice behind her.

Katelyn spun her head around on the pillow and saw him, the man she was drunkenly hitting on the night before. He was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a well tailored pair of navy blue slacks that hugged his firm, tightly tapered waist. He had a maroon and blue checkered silk tie hanging limply and untied around the collar of his sharply-pressed button down oxford shirt. As she glanced at the undone tie, her mind raced to remember the details of last night but with no success.

His strong molded shoulders and broad chest filled out his shirt perfectly. His black hair was damp, parted down the middle and brushed back from his face. It was thick, shiny and fell just above his crisp collar. He was gorgeous, and he was staring at her... hard. She felt herself sinking into the bed under his penetrating scrutiny.

Gray smoldering eyes were gazing over her clearly defined body lying in his bed, looking as if they were trying to burn through the fabric that she was now clutching onto for dear life. He could see the curves of her perfect breasts and hard pointed nipples through the thin flannel sheet, her slight waist melding into delightful hips. His gaze rested on the shadowed triangle between her shapely legs which were crossed at the ankles. He looked away, trying to calm the eager heat that was rising in his groin.

"Steady... steady," he told himself, "You're acting like a little punk kid. This isn't the first beautiful woman you've seen in your bed."

Although thinking about it, he couldn't recall the last time he ever saw a naked woman in his bed that he hadn't fucked. She had to be the first, at least in his many years of adulthood. No wonder he was having this reaction to her. Yes, that must be it. He hungered at the sight of her because he hasn't had her, and he did want her... badly.

He looked at her again, this time avoiding her body and focusing on her face. Her shiny auburn hair fell out of the fancy ponytail twist that she did it up in the night before and was now cascading across the pillows she was laying on... his pillows. He made a mental note to smell the pillows after she left. Her eyes were staring back at him, and he took note of her graceful auburn eyelashes. She was biting her full, glossy lower lip which connected two very pink blushing cheeks; he pushed that color out of his head... pink.

"...such a sexy color." He sighed as he thought. "I need to stop looking at her..."

He put one hand on the doorjamb. It gave him something tangible to focus on, to steady himself on, and then ran the other hand through his black hair. Looking at the hard oak wood floor, he spoke in an even tone to hide the torrent of lust he was dealing with on the inside of not only his mind, but his body as well.

"Don't worry if you don't remember anything from last night. There's nothing to remember."

She looked at him with furrowed brows. He understood her look of doubt and pressed on, giving her a slight smile.

"No, I'm serious. Nothing happened. You passed out in my car on the way over here. I don't take advantage of women who are too drunk to... participate."

Katelyn was mortified and slightly relieved. Her pink cheeks deepened to red and, still laying down, pulled the sheet up and over her face.

"Where's my dress?" she called, her voice slightly muffled by the green and blue flannel over her head.

He could see her firm breasts very clearly under the fabric now pulled taunt. She was breathing harder. He had to look away again for his own sanity.

"Um... you took it off," he said with his voice trailing.

She ripped the sheet down from her head, sending up auburn stray hairs like a halo, the mortification on her face replaced by anger. The color of her cheeks darkened even more.

"Wait, how could I take my dress off? I'm sure I was way too drunk, considering I blacked out! Who the hell are you?"

She sat bolt upright, crossing her legs and pulling at the flannel to bunch it up around her chest with one hand while her other hand was trying, unsuccessfully to clamp the open end around her back, exposing the top of her firm rounded buttocks still seated on his bed. He caught that glimpse of her ass and felt himself react against the fabric of his pants; the thought crossed his mind about himself being there instead of the bed, and her ass moving against his thighs.

"Are you listening to me?" He snapped out of his thoughts and realized he didn't heard a word of what she was just said. He knew she was really angry though.

"I'm sorry, what?" he said.

"I said who the hell are you? And what the fuck did you put in my drink? What do you mean 'What?' You weren't even listening to me! You expect me to believe that I passed out in your car then came into your room and took my own clothes off, that's bullshit! What the hell do you take me for?"

She hopped off the bed while she was interrogating him, the sheet precariously draped around her, and stomped her foot on his hardwood floor. It shocked him that he was thinking she was adorable in her anger. Normally he would have had someone like this kicked off of his estate by now.

He pulled his hands up to his chest, palms out in mock defense. His grin widened.

"Katelyn, Katelyn... relax. You're right. I'm sorry. You didn't take your clothes off on your own."

He reached around the door and grabbed his dark blue terry cloth robe that was hanging on a hook, silently laughing about what he was going to have to tell her next. He spoke quickly and very factually. His eyes glowed at her with amusement.

"After you passed out, you threw up all over yourself and your dress... and my car upholstery. I had my housekeeper help bring you in; and she was the one who undressed you, cleaned you up and put you in bed. In fact, I slept in the other room to give you privacy. I think your dress is still drying right now, I had her steam it this morning. Here, this'll make you feel more comfortable."

He extended his arm out with the blue robe. The smile on his face turned less taunting and more sincere. His eyes softened.

"If you want you can borrow a pair of my sweats to go home in right now and I can send the dress to anywhere of your choice."

Her posture swayed from being strong and defiant to being ashamed at the realization of what happened. She got horribly drunk, threw up all over herself, and then yelled at the man who, sure, his intentions for taking her home while she was obviously drunk were less than honorable, but he ended up being a really nice guy. She made a mental check of herself. Besides the hang-over, she felt alright. He had really taken care of her.

Still wrapped in the flannel, she took the robe gingerly from his outstretched hand and sat back down on the bed, looking at the floor.

"I am so sorry. I don't know what to say. I'm so embarrassed." Her head hung low. Tears started to cloud her vision until the hardwood floor became a swaying blurry mush of brown.

He walked over to the bed and sat down close to her. The weight of his body made the mattress cave slightly towards his mass, and she tilted into him, her tears falling on the robe she had in her hands.

"I'm such an idiot," she thought. "He must think I'm such an idiot."

He put an arm around her, it encircled her shoulders, and he took note of how perfectly she fit in that cozy space of his body.

"Hey, please... please don't. It really bothers me when women cry in my bed." Teasingly he added, "And it's been happening a lot lately."

She flicked her eyes up sideways at him and playfully scoffed at his attempt to make her laugh.

He smirked back and then said more genuinely, "It's alright, really. You being drunk, it was cute in a way. I had fun meeting you and I can vouch that you had fun last night too before you passed out. So don't be upset, it's ok."

She slowly leaned her head back against his shoulder.

He was right about her hair. It smelled wonderful, like creamy vanilla. His thoughts went back to his pillowcases and how he'd wait at least a week before he washed her scent off. Delicious. She looked up at him with her brown doe eyes and wet auburn lashes and gave him a weak smile. Her full lips were quivering a little from the tears.

He couldn't stop himself if he tried. He was aching to take her sadness away, aching to take her embarrassment away, but mostly he was aching to take her, just like when he first saw her across the ballroom. He dipped down and met her lips with his, gently touching her chin with his hand which was small in comparison to his long and slightly roughed fingers. She stiffened and then gave into his soft lips on hers. She closed her eyes and parted her mouth gently, welcoming the warmth. He teased her tongue with his, and she moaned for more. He happily obliged. His mouth was penetrating her, exploring her, tasting her. His cock started throbbing to do the same.

Her hands, which still grasped the robe, were tingling, and warmth was spreading to her toes. The arm that was around her tightened softly and he pulled her closer to him while his free arm moved to the outside of her thigh. Both of them were becoming all too aware of her sheer nakedness under the loose flannel sheet. She let the unworn robe fall from her hands and onto the floor.

He paused from kissing her to unbutton his shirt and throw it and the hanging tie across the wooden floorboards. He looked into her eyes. They were trusting and eager and clouded with desire. Both of their breathing was heavy, and blood pulsed through their ears and other more sensitive areas of their bodies.

He lifted his hand and slowly pulled the sheet down from across her chest. She softly gasped as his eyes creased with a smile at the realization that he was staring at the most perfect pair of breasts he had ever seen. He leaned into her neck slowly and was kissing his way down to her firm round nipples. Katelyn leaned back on her elbows and watched him begin to devour her body, arching her back, willing him forward.

He took one of her hard nipples in his mouth and sucked it eagerly, massaging it with the tip of his tongue. He guiltily remembered how he imagined this earlier while looking at her hard nipples pressed against the fabric of her silky dress as he carried her into his house last night. He cupped her other tit, rolling its perfect nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her back was arching and all of her was shaking, her soul, her mind, her body at the absolute pleasure his mouth was inciting from her breasts.

Her heart was pounding with the anticipation of more. She wanted so much more.

"This is crazy," she thought, "I don't do these things. I don't even know him." But for the life of her, she couldn't bring herself to stop what was happening. It felt too good and in a way she felt like she owed him for sparing her last night and putting up with her outrage this morning. Katelyn knows it wouldn't be hard to give this man what he wanted... which was very quickly becoming exactly what she wanted as well.

He let go of her sweet tender breast with his hand and trailed it down to her waist where the flannel sheet was hopelessly doing its duty of concealment. Still sucking her perky nipple, he guided his hand under the sheet, and she instinctively parted her legs to let him feel her hot ignited pussy. He dipped his long thick fingers into the wet cream that was welling at her surface like a pen in an inkwell and with his wet fingertips he teased her engorged pearl-like clit. She moaned and squirmed under his hand for more. Her body, her smell, her reaction, everything was making him rock hard under his navy blue trousers. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to make her his. He wanted her more than he wanted any other woman he had ever been with.

"She doesn't want you for your money, and she doesn't know who your family is," he thought. "This is her. She's real and she isn't faking anything."

He sat up from her breasts, and still fingering her clit, he threw off the sheet that was covering her open thighs and her tensed legs. He moved from the side of her on the bed to the hardwood floor where he knelt on his knees. Her pointed toes were softly touching the wooden floorboards. He sat back on his heels and watched himself masterfully maneuver his hand around her beautiful firm clit and caress her wet pink lips. Then he looked up at her glowing face going through the expressions of pleasure, her eyes half open and glazed over, her cheeks flushed.

While watching her, he shoved two of his drenched fingers far into her hot wet pussy. Her mouth opened, and she gasped. Her back arched in a spasm of pleasure at the feel of him stroking her tight juicy tunnel, over and over again, first two fingers then three. His thumb was positioned right over her clit so that every time his fingers slid into her, his thumb and her met, touched, and teased each other.

Harder and harder he pushed into her, he wanted to give her a preview of what she was in for. He could feel her tightening as the tension mounted in her. He slowed the steady thumbing that Katelyn was writhing on. She was on the edge of the cliff waiting to be shoved into the chasm but he wanted her to wait. He stopped his fingers while they were inside of her and he watched her pink lips as he slowly withdrew his fingers, feeling the soft accommodating walls cave in behind him. He licked his hand, savoring her sweet velvety taste.

"No, please, please don't stop." She breathlessly begged him.

His guttural voice answered her. "I'm not," and with that he spread her thighs further apart and plunged his tongue deep into her delicious wet cunt.

The elbows that were holding her slightly erect had given way and she fell, flattening out on the bed, moaning and grasping at the fitted flannel sheet beneath her. He grabbed her thighs and guided them over his shoulders. He pulled her until her rounded ass was hanging off the bed so he could place his hands on her milky cheeks and lift her body up to his face. He looked as if he were offering himself her creamy pussy on a platter. She was shuddering and curled her legs around his head to steady her electricity and then reached down and placed her hands on his head and pressed him into her grinding crotch.

He was expecting this and submitted to her natural forcefulness to place him where he was needed. His tongue was darting and tasting her, and his nose kept nudging her clit closer and closer to release. She cried out. He was right there coaxing her. Her thighs constricted tightly around his head so that every breath he took was more difficult than the last, but nothing was going to make him pause. Breathing was second thought to him. Her cries became longer and louder until her whole body clinched and her mind spun into her soul as she came. She felt the cold outside world crumble and rebuild itself as something warmer, cleaner, and smoother.

He felt her orgasm and shudder all around him and then she relaxed, releasing him from her passionate vice-like grip. His dick had never been so hard.

He stood up like an angry Greek god and ripped open his navy blue trousers, pulling out his throbbing cock that he wielded as skillfully as a knight does a sword. He couldn't wait anymore. Grabbing his spent partner, he flipped her over on her stomach and bent her over the edge of the bed in front of him. He could smell her weakened state, and nature guided his attack. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her and shoved himself far inside of her and he cried out in a deep war-like tone at the pleasurable heat of her tight cunt engulfing his dick. She gasped, instinctively lifting the angle of her ass. He slapped his hand across her bare ass cheek, leaving a red hand print on her pale white canvas as she shrieked in pleasure. She backed into him and he began to thrust rhythmically into her, in and then out. She cried out at the peak of his inward push and tried to move forward from taking the entire brunt of his attack. He thwarted her attempt and held onto her hips; digging his fingertips into her flesh. Thrusting into her even harder, over and over and over again, his abdominal muscles and legs became solid masses crashing against the soft waves of her body.

She winced and moaned and begged him to cum but the only thing that was being processed in his mind was the feel of her velvet wet twat sliding up and down his long hard shaft. Every stroke he took inside of her built up the waves of arousal in his groin until he could feel the crest of the tsunami peak and peak. He slowed himself, but was unable to stop the wave from crashing. He let go and allowed the waves to demolish the inside of his tightly constricted body. He pulled out of her tight warmth and howled while the pure white cum flowed through him and spread across the white skin and smooth crease of Katelyn's ass. He collapsed on the bed next to her, completely satisfied and completely spent.

They laid there in his bed, motionless for some time, trying to regroup and catch their breath.

After a few moments she rolled over to face him and looked at him through tired eyes. She was wondering how she was going to ask him this very simple, but now complicated, question. Katelyn was just going to have to cringe and say it.

"I'm really sorry, but what's your name?"

His left eyebrow rose along with his smirk.

"Mark Delorenzi, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

They both quietly laughed while staring in each others eyes.

She nuzzled closer to him and as they were drifting off to sleep he smelled her hair and the scent of vanilla reminded him to never wash his pillowcases again.

(to be continued)