Trivial Pursuits Ch. 17

"Now, no more talk about cancelling our plans for this weekend. It'll be a good break for you," he promised, kissing her once more and then smiling as he pulled away. "And I want you finished tomorrow by five because I have an errand I need you to run. I think it'll help you out, so don't argue with me."

She was a little dazed by the intensity of the sudden kiss and promise of a spanking, wondering if he would really, and if she would enjoy it. "What sort of errand?"

He only smiled teasingly and shook his head. "It's a surprise. Come by my office tomorrow and I'll give you the address. Deal?"

She looked back at her computer screen. "Will it interfere with my run?" she questioned thoughtfully, her mind finally beginning to return to the matter at hand.

"Yeah, probably," he admitted.

She continued studying her screen. "Okay, if you want. Just let me know where," she agreed with some caution as she stepped forward into the world of pliability.

"Thank you," he said appreciatively, reaching for the back of her neck and leaning down to kiss her.

But she didn't allow it to carry on too far, knowing it was beginning to severely distract her from her work, and before she lost her reason, she pulled back and said, "Okay, now I've kissed you, but I have work to finish, so you should probably go."

Denny chuckled, agreeing that if he couldn't take her home with him in the next five minutes, he probably should stop torturing himself. "Fine, Sweetheart. I'll leave you to it. But remember what I said; the case looks damn solid. The other side won't know what hit them." He pecked her once more on the forehead and then left for his office to gather his things and head home.

Alessa had a small smile play across her lips as she looked at the documents once more before shutting the folder. He was proud of her. She was doing well. She turned her attention back to the other cases that had pending tasks for her to complete, deciding a little sacrifice of sleep was in order if she wanted to leave the office tomorrow evening with a light conscience.

She had only five hours of sleep as she rose early Friday morning to get her run in before work. It was just before lunch when she found a break in the pace of her work and went to Denny's office for the address. She was tempted to punch in the address on the GPS and find what was there, but he had actually specifically instructed her to not investigate it. Between the tempting pull to discover ahead of time and the thousand texts Cadence sent in excitement regarding the upcoming weekend, Alessa got very little work done before she left at five.

When she arrived at the address that was just south of Market, she double checked, surprised to see a side door in the stand-alone, two-story brick building with a sign above it. It read "Zone Salon." She entered the building, took the stairs up to the next level and walked into a posh, stylish wood-planked hair salon. She made her way to the receptionist with a funky, jet black hairstyle.

A little confused as to her purpose there, Alessa gave her name, and to her growing surprise was informed that Sylvy the stylist would be ready to see her in ten minutes. She was offered her beverage of choice before being shown to a dressing room where she was instructed to remove her shirt and don the kimono-style robe. After sitting on the little settee for almost the full ten minutes, a platinum blonde came up to her, introducing herself as her stylist.

Alessa followed her dazedly back to a workstation and sat in the offered chair.

"So, I take it this is a gift," Sylvy began, leaning against her counter smiling expectantly at Alessa.

Alessa's eyebrows were raised in bafflement. "And a surprise," she added, knowing nothing else to say.

Sylvy chuckled. She had a somewhat high-pitched voice that twinkled like fairy wings. "Really? You didn't know you were getting your hair done? That is a nice surprise." She walked behind Alessa, running her fingers assessingly through her hair with a boldness that only a hairstylist possesses when touching a strangers head. "Well, the general plan is just a wash and style, and our washes come with the best neck massages, by the way. But there is allowance for anything you want to do. I guess the payer will cover whatever you want, even including my tip, so you don't have to worry. Were you thinking of getting any highlights or a different cut?" she asked as she changed the shape of Alessa's cut by moving the tresses this way and that.

Alessa was stunned, confused that Denny would send her to get her hair done, not exactly understanding the purpose. In all honesty, she hadn't gotten her hair cut in some time; she had been too busy with work to give much time and consideration to it. She had to admit with a frown it was due for a cut.

"Perhaps a trim? I think I'm generally happy with the shape, but it needs to be trimmed," she explained thoughtfully.

Sylvy nodded as she listened and then began making suggestions to bang length and tapering and the like. When a style was decided on, Sylvy took her back to the darkened wash room. Not only was the hair wash amazingly relaxing, a special, extra conditioner was applied with a thorough, skin-raising scalp massage, Alessa then received the best neck massage she'd had in ages. Her body felt flush and her heart pounded as pleasure flooded her from the massage alone. The fifteen minutes was up too fast, and as Sylvy guided her back to the chair, Alessa silently promised herself to take the time for massages. She had a fleeting idea that she could just ask Denny.

In the end, Alessa walked out into the dark evening, the light fall breeze blowing her new waves, a feeling of invincibility radiating from her. Her step had more bounce, her stride happy and confident. She caught the bus to Russian Hill, and slowly made the long walk up to Denny's condo. Much to the butterflies in her stomach, he had given her the code to his building, and she knocked when she reached his door.

She cleared her throat and combed her fingers through the now extremely silky locks, just as he opened the door. His jacket was off, but his black suspenders were still on over his crisp white shirt. He had loosened the collar, and standing there smiling at her, he looked nearly delicious. Alessa quickly chastised herself for her silly thoughts and braved a smile.

"Well, what do you think?"

"God, you're gorgeous," he praised, reaching out to cup her behind the neck and pull her forward.

Alessa let out a breathy giggle, laced with disbelief and embarrassment. She felt her face flush a little at his praise, but when he ran his mouth along her cheek to nuzzle under her ear at her very sensitive spot, she felt herself instantly light up.

"Feel better?" her murmured against her.

She shivered in response, helpless to the ripples of pleasure he caused. She laughed fully then. "I do, actually. How'd you know? I mean, whatever made you think to send me there? Was my hair really that bad?"

He laughed and pulled back to smile in her eyes. "Of course not. Come, dinner's ready. Help me set the table and I'll tell you all about it," he promised. She took off her blazer, hanging it in his hall closet, and together they finalized the dinner. He had made a delicious looking stir-fry with a marinated salad. She lit the candles on the table, and after dishing out the food, they carried their plates to dine. The San Francisco night glittered in through the large French doors they sat near, and for a moment, there was silence, allowing the tension of the day to melt away.

"Okay, so tell me," she prompted when she had managed enough of her lo mein to ease her sharp hunger.

He back in his chair. "I once dated this blonde in college. I think her name was Rachel." He smiled in remembrance. "In fact, I know her name was Rachel, and for a whole semester, I was completely taken by this package of utter woman."

Alessa shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat, not willing to admit her jealousy over a woman no longer in his life.

"I had sent her flowers once, and a few days later had asked her if she liked them. Her answer gave me an invaluable insight to her species.

"She said, 'Men love getting blowjobs, right? Well women, more than flowers, love blow outs.'

"I had never heard of that particular maneuver so I asked her to explain herself.

"'Blow outs, as in getting your hair done by your stylist.' She it's such a simple thing, but guys never think to pay to get your hair done, even a simple wash and style, which can be just as inexpensive as nice flowers. Even if it makes a woman feel amazing. Even if it makes them look sexy. We just never think about doing that.

"She was a women's studies major, and she had a point. I had always thought flowers, especially for no reason other than I'd thought of her at some point in the day and had a few extra bucks to spend on her, was a nice gesture. Apparently, I was clueless about the intrinsic values of women and stuck to the easily publicized ideas of thoughtfulness. Flowers.

"I really didn't use that information until one day, several months later, I was sitting outside this little frozen custard place with my next girlfriend, whose name I can't recall, when I happened to notice a woman come out of the salon across the street. She was rather short and chubby, probably mid-forties. But I saw a brightness about her face, a lightness in her step. And more than once I watched her turn her head so her hair swished about her. And then I got it. She felt like the sexiest woman in the world because her amazing hair made her feel that way.

The Blowout.

"After that realization, I made sure, especially if I were after something," he admitted wryly, "to comment on the hair of the woman I was with. More often than not, I saw a flash of self-satisfaction, joy at her sexiness in a way a simple, non-specific, 'You look sexy tonight,' never brought out."

He was silent as he kept at his noodles, Alessa watching him from above her wine glass. Many thoughts swirled in her mind. Most easily felt was the pother just below her breast bone that he was a man of the world, once belonging to many women, likely to return to them when whatever existed between them faded. But there was also the appreciation of his candor, his graceful disclosure of an insightful lesson learned. But what she found most attractive, most compelling and comforting, was his sense of her overall unease and that he had found a nonsexual way to calm her mental status, even if only temporarily.

"Thank you. I did feel better by the time I left," she admitted in a whisper, grateful for his attention, even if it still felt awkward to accept.

He smiled warmly at her. "You're welcome." He took her hand and kissed it, before they returned to finishing their food.

After dinner and a challenging game on the Nintendo, Alessa found herself laying across Denny's lap as he leisurely kissed her while a titillating hand skimmed up and down the length of her body, slowly but steadily arousing her. When the passion of their kisses grew to the point she shifted her legs restlessly against each other, he pulled her up so she straddled his lap. Her tight skirt was bunched up around her waist as her stocking-clad thighs spread wide. Despite the vulnerability she felt in being so open, Alessa liked the position as it allowed a new type of power as she leaned over him with her hair cascading around them. It also did wonders for her damping sex as she now had something quite firm to press against.

She cupped his face, tilting it up to her, needing no instruction to take the lead. She allowed her lips to hover above his, the heat of her breath warming him to the pit of his stomach. And then she parted her mouth just enough for her tongue to snake out and trace the contours his lips. He turned his face several times to provoke her into kissing him, but she only ever pulled back out of reach.

He groaned and closed his eyes, forcing his body to still beneath her. And then she rolled her hips against his lap, grinding her wet center on the hard bulge in his pants. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, feeling with something besides his aching erection the blatant undulation of her pelvis. She let out a stuttering breath, smiling at the thought that she could bring herself to orgasm like that if she wanted.

Hearing her breathy response to pleasuring herself on his lap, Denny opened his eyes, staring up into her deep blue ones, which were the loveliest shade of lust he'd ever seen on her. He raised a hand to cup her cheek and pull her down to his mouth. Despite the moment of power over him she'd experienced, she freely resigned it to finally kiss him again, to smash their lips together and allow his tongue to pry her mouth open. She felt the coil in her pit tighten as his tongue seduced the very breath from her body. Without attention to her seeking body, she was riding his lap fast toward orgasm.

And then Denny growled at her. "Take me out. Quickly."

She reached down to do as commanded, but had to stop kissing him to watch her shaking hands bumble with the task. Once his fly was open, her cool hand slid in to firmly grasp his hot staff. Denny hissed at the shocking coldness. Lifting his hips off the couch, he shoved the top of his pants down far enough to fully spring free. Alessa was moving to get off the couch to divest her sopping sex of her underwear, but she was stopped by his hands once again on her thighs. He reached for the juncture of her legs and hooked a finger in the crotch of her pink lace panties. Seeing him fully expose her, she pushed up to kneel higher with his engorged shaft still in her hand. She angled her hips forward, feeling him glide along the slit of her puffy sex. It somehow felt illicit to feel the wet tip of his genitals touch her clitoris, and it caused her inner walls to tighten in anticipation. A week had been too long.

And then he was at her entrance, the fat head spreading her needy inner lips. Finally positioned, she lifted her eyes to his, their intensity lighting her on fire. Slowly, she lowered herself, feeling him stretch her wide. Once he was secure enough inside, she placed both hands on Denny's shoulders to steady herself, aware that the sensation would send her keeling over. She shouldn't have worried, she thought vaguely, as she felt his strong hands glide up her sides possessively to hold onto her, pulling her onto him.

The familiar stretch was welcomed, missed, as no amount of her masturbation techniques could ever duplicate the utter completeness that was Denny inside her. He allowed her a moment to adjust, to settle, as he watched her rapt expression of closed eyes and open mouth. And when it felt as if he was as deep as possible in that position, he pulled her down to him for another kiss.

When his tongue invaded her mouth, his hips surged up, the last inch of his shaft entering her completely. She gave a small cry into his mouth, her eyes shooting open. He devoured her another minute more, but with a harsh and rapid breath, he pulled away, falling back against the couch. After another minute of collecting himself, he opened his eyes. Though there was tension that pushed to speed him along, he ran a hand down the front of her button-up shirt with unmistaken deliberation. He pinched the fabric and began tugging at it, pulling it out of the bunched-up skirt. When it was out, he pulled the bottom button free with one hand, and then the next and then the one after that, inch by inch revealing her slim waist hidden underneath.

When the last button was released, his eyes shifted up to her attentive ones for only a second before drawing the tips of his fingers down her chest and torso. The light caress was arousing as much as tickling, and it made her itch to be pressed hard against him. He skimmed his fingers up her once more, dragging against the edge of her shirt and then pushing it off one should and then the other.

His hands helped peel the shirt off her arms before turning his attention to her breasts. He was tempted to free her of her matching bra, but there was something decidedly erotic about her dusky nipples peeking out from the sparse pink lace demi cup. He spanned his fingers around her neck before dragging his hand down to firmly cup and squeeze a breast, kneading it and then pinching a nipple through the material. The pain in the small bead was a pulsing pleasure in the swollen lips of her sex. She moaned at both sensations, her own hand moving to cover his, though not to pull it away. Denny rubbed his thumb over the bud he'd just punished, soothing the sharpness to a deep ache.

Alessa's expression was pained, in need of more, of moving, of kissing, of being devoured. Of anything more. "Come here," he husked, his own tongue craving the velvet feel of hers. She leaned forward in relief, kissing him with ardor.

Denny's hands found their way back to her hips, and when the urge to move became great, he let his head fall back, their lips separating as he caught his breath once more. Looking back at her, he said, "Move."

Alessa was confused, not understanding the command. "You want me to get up?" she asked, thinking she couldn't get off him if she wanted to, her body now too far eaten with need to be able to move until she was filled with satisfaction.

His chuckle was coarse and pained. "No, Sweetheart, ride me," he clarified, hoping he didn't come too quickly, hoping she was just as close as he was.

Though her cheeks were already pink with passion, they turned absolutely red at his direction. He wanted to watch her writhe atop him. She shuddered, needing it, but fearing it all at the same time.

When Denny saw the discomfort flitter through her eyes, dampening the desire that had glittered so brightly, his fingers dug in and he began to move her hips for her. He lifted her somewhat, but primarily circled her back and forth, establishing a sort of satisfying undulation.

Alessa's hands were still on his shoulders, and leaning forward, stabilizing herself on him, she allowed him to manipulate her, passively learning the motion before actively participating. When Denny felt her begin to move of her own volition, he leaned in and bit the other nipple that hadn't yet received his attention. He sucked it hard through the lace, causing it to pop through, trapped. He flicked his tongue over it, relishing its velvety texture contrasted against the rough lace.

Alessa was whimpering as she rode him, her back arched and head back with eyes closed. She focused; she could feel it off in the distance like a pin-point of light on the horizon and concentrated the movement of her hips, finding the exact stroke that progressed her exponentially closer each time. Suddenly, her pace sped as the ferocity of her gyrations increased ten-fold.

Denny could feel his sac tighten and knew he would come within just a few strokes. His arms quickly wrapped around her back, pulling her in. Alessa dropped her head forward and somehow managed to find his mouth in their frantic humping of each other. All their focus was on the powerful movements of their hips and they could therefore only pant against each other's mouths. Denny was there and thrust up against her as his body tightened in climax. Alessa let out a shrill cry, eyes screwing shut as her entire body tensed beyond control and then violently shuddered upon impact. Blindingly, they imploded upon each other, squeezed tight by their loins and legs and arms, the foreheads buried in the other's necks.

She continued to shake, with spasms rippling through her, keeping her shattered parts from coalescing with any sort of speed. Denny felt the sharp, mouth-water sensation slowly fade, and held her tight against him, feeling his arms move as she gulped for breath. At some point, when the aftershocks had seemed to finally disperse, they moved to the bedroom, and exhausted from the stressful week and the distressing sex, Alessa was almost instantly asleep.