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“It just came up.” I held up my cell phone. “I’ll be out the rest of the day.” I didn’t wait for a response. I strode to the elevator feeling like a complete jerk and a coward at the same time. I wasn’t a man who got flustered. And while I could be tough, I wasn’t an asshole, usually.
“Fuck.” I hit the button to take me down the 30 stories. Out on the street, I considered visiting my usual bar and seeing if there was a willing woman that might help me forget what I’d just done with Leah. But that was stupid. The image of Leah’s sweet pussy, sucking in my dildo was seared in my brain. I fucking hated that dildo. I was jealous that it got to experience her tight, wet pussy.
Instead I headed up toward Central Park to my apartment. My wife and I had lived in the building when Sensual Delights first took off, but I sold it and got something a little smaller when she died. It was both to escape her ghost, but also, because at the time, I needed to be more careful with my money as the business was teetering between skyrocketing or going bankrupt. Today, I could afford something bigger, but what for? It had everything I needed in the location I wanted it.
In my apartment, I poured several fingers of scotch and drank it down in a gulp. I savored the burn in my gut, but it didn’t do anything to rid me of the guilt I was feeling. I poured another large glass and then sat on my couch overlooking the park.
What the fuck had I been thinking to fuck her with a dildo? To come on those perfect breasts. My dick had done me wrong. For a man who liked to be in control, I’d let myself down.
The answer was that I couldn’t be left alone with her. I couldn’t trust my dick not to override common sense. Jesus, if this got out, I could be kicked out of my own company. Henry would probably kill me. And I’d deserve it. Who engaged in sexual acts with their best friend’s daughter? Me, apparently.
But, holy hell, who would have blamed me? Leah was a petite woman, with short blonde hair and large blue eyes that made me think of a pixie. Her body was lush, with curves made for a man. I didn’t touch her breasts, but I got a good enough look to know they’d fill my hands. Her waist tapered in, which accentuated her sublime tits, and round hips were made for holding onto while plunging my dick into her pussy.
Thinking of that, my cock came to life. “You’re a fucking dick, you know that.”
I imagined it saying, “well yeah, I am.” I refilled my class, taking it into my bedroom and stripped out of my suit. I went to my toy closet and chose the one that simulated a blow job, including a vibrating and moving tongue.
I didn’t grow up with the goal of going into the adult pleasure business. I thought I’d go into real estate like my father. But then I met Valerie, who wanted to be a designer, and somehow, after she and I experimented with cock ring that included a vibrator that rocked her to the stratosphere, we came up with the idea of starting a business for people with large sexual appetites.
She laughed as she sucked her juices off my dick. “Your name is perfect for it, Cox… cocks… get it?”
At the age of thirty, and in a sexual haze, I’d agreed that it seemed like destiny. We were always on the same page in business and sexually, which you’d think would make a great marriage, which is why after we made our first $100,000 in six months from a simple online ecommerce store, we decided to get married. Valerie didn’t care about sentiment or fairy tales, so we’d gone to the courthouse and gotten married. No fanfare, no fuss. It seemed perfect.
I cared for her, and chances were we’d still be married if she hadn’t died, even though her sex drive sometimes took her needs outside the marriage. To be honest, that didn’t bother me as much as her insistence to never be a mother.
I wasn’t sure why that bothered me so much, I never thought much about being a father. I assumed someday we’d have children, but it wasn’t until she said, as an aside to another conversation we’d been having, that she was glad we didn’t want children that I wondered if maybe I did want kids someday. At first, I let it go, but then it started to bother me that I’d never have a child.
That issue was the only thing we couldn’t get on the same page about. It became a significant chasm in our relationship we never got to resolved. She’d died in a car accident out in Las Vegas where she’d been at a trade show with our new line of lingerie and toys. Apparently, she’d had her head in the driver’s lap when he crashed going nearly 100 miles per hour.
