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CHAPTER1
Carrie
This is so crazy. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but very quietly, I lift my binoculars to peer at a storefront. I look like a stalker, and the fact is that Iama stalker because I’m following the movements of the handsome Bruce Chapman. Oh yes. This gorgeous hunk of man isn’t going to get away from me, although of course, my actions are totally questionable at the moment. Hell, if Bruce knew that I was following him, he’d be horrified, not to mention disgusted.
But that’s the thing. I’ve been obsessed with Bruce ever since meeting him at my friend Ramona’s dinner party months ago. He’s her husband’s friend, which is a nice way to meet, in my opinion. In this day and age, it feels like everyone meets through some on-line dating app, be it OkCupid, Tinder, or even that latest one, Buggle. Don’t even get me started on Buggle because there aresooomany losers on there. I swear, I was inundated by dick pics to the point where it was really gross and icky, so it was a relief to be introduced to someone the old-fashioned way.
But yes, back to Bruce. My mouth watered when he showed up at the dinner party because the man is tall and handsome, with chestnut hair, hazel eyes, and the build of a Greek god. Even though he works at Dissidence Corp. as an executive of some sort, this guy clearly hits the gym on a regular basis. He’s built like a gladiator with broad shoulders, a wide chest, and a deep laugh that made me go hot all over.
But even better, Bruce is no male airhead. In fact, he’s insanely smart seeing that Dissidence is a Fortune 500 company and he’s the CFO or something like that. So yes, I was excited to finally lay eyes on a handsome, successful man via normal channels, and there was definitely a spark between us too. Our conversation was light and easy, and he even laughed at my jokes, even though I’m not exactly the funniest girl out there.
But maybe I got a little too excited because I came onto him hard at the dinner. Okay, maybe a littletoohard. Okay, maybe I crossed the line into skankdom, but it’s only because Bruce is so hot, and I didn’t want to let the opportunity slip away! Plus, I had a short skirt on at the dinner, so I took the initiative and flashed my pussy at him a couple times. It wasn’t pre-planned or anything, oh no, nothing like that. It’s just that with this particular skirt, any kind of panties tend to show, and as a result, I decided to go commando.
It was perfect though because I could see Bruce’s pupils dilate every time I gave him an eyeful of my moist pink. Even better, he was definitely into it. There was a bulge at his crotch, and between the salad and the main course, my handsome dinner companion reached one big hand below the table and gently stroked up my thigh. Hot tingles raced up my spine because this was next level, and that’s when I knew for sure we were connecting.
But we didn’t stop there. No sir. Instead, while making light-hearted conversation with our hosts, Bruce slid that big hand up my creamy leg all the way to my pussy and gently rubbed my clit for me during the meal. It was unholy, I tell you. I think my friend Ramona suspected because I let out a breathy gasp while she was serving the carrots, and she shot a probing look my way. I managed to keep my sound effects mostly under wraps after that, and finally, while Ramona and her husband were in the kitchen prepping the dessert, Bruce rubbed me to an orgasm right there at the table as I came all over his hand. It was embarrassing, I tell you, because there was so much pussy fluid, except that he didn’t blink an eye. Instead, he merely grinned at me before licking his fingers and then shooting me a mischievous wink.
“You taste good, sweetheart,” he growled under his breath. “Like honey.” Then, Ramona and her husband returned, and it was all back to normal like nothing was wrong.
But that’s where things go off the rails because of course, I gave Bruce my number after the dinner party. I didn’t just give him my number, actually. I also gave him my email address, my Instagram handle, and my Twitter username, just in case he wanted to find me. But did he reach out? Hell no! I waited in vain for a couple days, and then a couple days became a week, which became a month. What in the world? I literally let a strange man rub my pussy at my best friend’s house, and he doesn’t even have the courtesy to call afterwards. What an asshole.
Still, just because he’s not calling doesn’t mean that I can’t use my superpowers to stalk him. So I looked up Bruce Chapman on the web, and it was easy enough to locate the man. He’s a powerful businessman after all, so there was plenty of information about him on-line. Piecing together some random bits of data even helped me deduce his home address, the make and model of his car, as well as the location of his favorite coffee shop. I know this is a little over the top, but trust me, if you saw how gorgeous this guy is, you’d do the same.
As a result, it was only a matter of time before I started following Bruce around in-person. It’s no big deal, and there’s no reason to get weirded out about it because I always stayed out of sight. Besides, most of what he does is totally predictable. He heads to the gym early in the morning, and then shows up for work at 9 a.m. The man is in the Dissidence Corp. office building until seven most nights, and then he comes out and hits the gym for a second work-out before retiring to his apartment. Dinner seems to be mostly take-out, although I have observed him grocery shopping on occasion.
Even crazier, Bruce seems to work most weekends too. Now that’s what I call dedication because I wouldn’t do any job seven days a week no matter how much you paid me. But this man is a workaholic, and as a result, he often strolls into Dissidence weekend mornings to get some tasks done before meeting up with friends for dinner and drinks or occasionally heading to his favorite spa for a massage. But today, something’s different because he didn’t show up at the Gold Spa, his usual haunt. Instead, he disappeared into a new place called Rose and Lily an hour ago, and I don’t get it. Why the change in his routine? What’s different about tonight?
I blow out a breath before raising my binoculars to my eyes again. Obviously, I look like a creeper sitting in my car while casing the joint, but fortunately, this block is deserted, so no one’s around to see. I huff impatiently, waiting for Bruce to reappear as my mind whirs. What kind of name is Rose and Lily? And why would he come here? There’s nothing obvious about the physical storefront itself. We’re in a working-class neighborhood of Chicago that has a lot of brick townhomes and the occasional commercial storefront scattered in between. Rose and Lily is a plain two-story gray building with a pink sign on the front. A nondescript door leads to the interior of the space, although there are no windows on the first floor – only on the second, and those are covered with drapes. I suppose it makes sense. As a spa, you definitely want to create ambience, and a glimpse of this semi-dilapidated neighborhood could ruin it.
But then I sit up because the door to Rose and Lily has just opened, and Bruce reappears, looking refreshed and very handsome, as usual. His skin is tanned and bronze, and his chestnut hair waves off that proud forehead. Even his teeth seem whiter, somehow.
But Bruce isn’t alone as he steps out. I frown, binoculars pressed to my eyes as he turns around to thank two girls who have just come out with him. Ah ha, these must be employees of Rose and Lily. Heck, are they Rose and Lily themselves? It could be, seeing that the two women are both blonde beauties, with big smiles and blue aprons tied around their curvy bodies.
They smile while chatting with Bruce, obviously thanking him for his patronage and he presses something into their hands. But then, the incredible happens. One of the women unties the apron around her neck, allowing the front portion of the material to flop downwards, andshe’s not wearing anything underneath! Holy shit! Sure enough, her big white breasts are creamy and soft in the evening light, and Bruce doesn’t seem surprised at all. Instead, the handsome man bends his head and suckles gently at a pink nipple before giving it a few long licks with the flat of his tongue.
But it doesn’t stop there, oh no. Instead, the second girl also undoes the top of her apron, and she too is bare-breasted beneath the fabric. She smiles invitingly at Bruce, and the gorgeous man doesn’t even hesitate. He moves to stand in front of her, and begins suckling on the second girl’s breast next! What the hell is going on here?!?! Do these people not realize that they’re in public right now? Do they not realize that they have a stalker following them, and that I can see everything they’re doing?
But Bruce gets even nastier then. The girls are posed right next to one another, so he takes the left boob of one, and the right boob of the other, and then presses the creamy sacks together and sucks from two nipples at once. The blondes toss their heads back, moaning with delight, before giggling while running their hands over his broad shoulders. Bruce gives their nips one last forceful suckle, before pulling off with an audible pop, and then stands upright and smiles wolfishly. I can practically see the gleam of his white teeth from here, and it doesn’t take a genius to predict what’s going to happen next.
Sure enough, the trio turns around and the girls lead my date back into the spa, tittering with invitation. Bruce follows willingly, and to my shock, one of the girls has undone his fly and is leading him back into the store by the dick! His massive pole isdefinitelyenclosed in her tiny palm, and I even see her squeeze him teasingly as the three of them disappear from view. Then, the shop door closes and I’m left on my own to hyperventilate like a maniac in my car.
What the fuck was that? Did Bruce just go in for a second round of shenanigans? What kind of spa service is Rose and Lily, anyways? It’s clear those bimbos are actually working girls, and that Bruce is paying them for sexual services. To be honest, that realization doesn’t bother me because a lot of alpha males in Chicago pay for it when they’re single. But still, is he doing two women at once? Is he actually using the services oftwoprostitutes to get off because he likes it like that? Even more, is this why he hasn’t called me? Because he thinks I’m too tame to handle something like a menage?
Well, fuck that. I’m Carrie Burkhart, and I’m no one’s fool. Maybe I’m not a working girl, but neither am I some uptight ninny with a big stick up her butt. Instead, I’m the girl who always interviews the strippers for my friends’ bachelorette parties, and hell, I even blew that last stud who was really hot with the enormous shaft. No one can say that I’m repressed, much less shy or retiring. So what the hell do I do now?
Pressing my lips into a straight line, I rev the engine on my car before screeching away from the curb. Given this information, it’s clear that I’ll have to find some other way of getting Bruce Chapman’s attention, and it’s going to take some out-of-the-box thinking, not to mention creative inspiration. But again, I’m Carrie Burkhart, and I won’t give up … until Bruce Chapman is solidly in my grasp.
CHAPTER2
Carrie
“Oh my god, are you serious?” my cousin Tess giggles on our video chat. “She literally led him back inside by his dick?”
I groan, dropping my head into my hands dramatically.
“Yes,definitely,” I emphasize. “I saw it with my own eyes, and I had binoculars too, so there was no mistaking just which body part she was squeezing with her hot little hand.”
Tess snorts with laughter, soda practically coming out of her nose.
