I smiled and headed back the way we’d come, past the Nikon and Hassleblad exhibits to the Britek lighting display.
She’s still there. Her, not easily forgotten, large, cornflower blue eyes gazed in my direction. When our eyes met she flashed a dazzling smile. She spoke to me, but background music from a song currently in vogue from Beyoncé drowned out her soft voice.
My eyes must have displayed confusion because, she edged closer. Drawing nearer, the heady blend of her fragrance surrounded and engulfed me. Her strong gardenia based perfume teased my mind as did her beauty. Intermingled with her subtle aroma and minty fresh breath, it reinforced the arresting effect she had on me.
Suddenly, I wished, little Miss Perfect and I were in Hollywood, instead of Las Vegas, three hundred miles away.
She handed me a folded brochure. My stomach lurched when her long fingers brushed across mine. “I asked, if you have any questions about Britek lighting or the Chromakey screens?” Her voice now louder.
Lydia with a ‘Y’—that’s what her nametag read. What a perfect name for Miss Perfect. I was so wrapped up in Lydia, I hadn’t noticed they sold screens as well as lighting. “Good products, both of them. I use them in my studio.”
Was it my imagination or did her eyes widen at the mention of studio.
“Oh, so you have a studio. What’s your specialty?”
Lydia, a wisp of a girl, possessed a lean dancer’s body. With her long, wavy, blonde hair, she had an elegant but innocent look. Suddenly I realized her nearness made me nervous and my breathing became labored. My gaze drifted down to her feet and languidly worked its way up. Her shoes were bone-colored, Wal Mart or maybe Ross pumps. Her ankles and calves were beautifully sculpted. Her cerulean blue, cotton dress and cosmetic jewelry were also low budget. This stunning girl did not have the money to dress the way she should. I suddenly pictured how much fun it would be fixing this Barbie Doll like creature up. I purposely spoke softly as a new recording started. “Yes, I’m a fashion and art photographer. Here’s my card.”
She took my card and once again my reaction to her touch was extreme when her stiletto tipped fingers grazed mine. Lydia eased closer. “I didn’t catch all of what you said.”
I leaned to make sure she heard me. “I’m sorry. Is it possible we could go somewhere quieter and talk?”
Her large eyes sparkled. She looked undecided, but ran her tongue over her upper lip. Demurely her gaze lowered to her watch. “Oh, yes. I guess so. I was supposed to get a break fifteen minutes ago. Let me just tell the boss and then we can go to the cafeteria.”
Mark was at the cafeteria, so I didn’t particularly want to go there, but I nodded my assent. She spoke to a portly man for a second and returned another bright white smile on her lips. She stepped down from the podium.
I edged up to her “There’s a snack bar a lot closer in the other direction. Why don’t we go there?”
“Okay. Boy, that’s a lot better. Now I can hear you.”
Seconds later, we stepped into the short line at the portable snack bar.
“Tell me, is your studio here in Las Vegas?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, it’s in North Hollywood.”
Her shoulders slumped. “As in California?”
The attendant waited for us to order. I looked at her. “What’ll you have? It’s my treat.”
Her lovely face brightened. “Oh, thank you. I’m a little short on money.”
The attendant pressed her. “What’ll you have, Miss?”
“I’ll have a Chicago dog with everything, fries and an iced tea.”
He nodded and looked to me. “I’ll have an iced tea and…a…churro.”
He rang it up. “That’ll be six-eighty-nine.”
I dug into my pocketbook and pulled out a ten. “Keep it.”
“Thanks lady,” he said in a much friendlier tone.
Picking up her tray, Lydia mimicked the attendant. “Thanks lady.” She laughed. “I just realized, I don’t know your name.”
We sat at the only empty table. “Joey, short for Josephine.”
She must not have realized I was there because she jumped. Rapidly turning around she laid her open fingered hand across her chest. “Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” She scanned down my naked body and that smile of appreciation, I loved, appeared on her face. “You can wear one of my robes or peignoirs if you’d like.”
I giggled. “I like being naked around you. I like the hunger in your eyes as they devour my nakedness. Which leads me to why I came in here in the first place.”
Her brow furrowed. “Yes what?”
“Yes, I will pose for your camera like this.” I ran my opened fingers hands over my breasts and down my ribs to my hips so she’d know what I meant.
She crushed against me. We hugged. “That’s wonderful. You have made my day in so many ways.”
“And you have made mine.” I leaned in and kissed her. Her hand reflexively reached between my legs. “Mmm. That feels good.” I jerked backwards. But you’re busy cooking and I’m going into your office and check my emails. I may wear one of your peignoirs if I get cold, but don’t be surprised if I spend all my time here naked.”
She laughed. “God have mercy on this poor sinner.”
* * * *
When I entered the bedroom with a quart of fresh strawberries and a can of whipped cream on a tray, Lydia looked bemused. “What’s that for?”
This is dessert, sweetheart. We are going to partake in gastronomic decadence. Holding a strawberry in my fingers, I put it to her succulent lips. She took a bite. “Mmmm.” I rubbed the rest of the strawberry on one of her nipples. It sprang to life like a bud opening in the sunlight. I added a dab of whipped cream to the tip and sucked it harshly. Lydia sucked in a breath and grasped my head, “Ah-ooh!”
I placed another strawberry to Lydia’s lips and she again took a bite. After asking her lie down and spread her long, slender legs, I rubbed the partial strawberry over the bare part of her mound, her clitoris, down the valley between her genital lips and into her vagina. Spraying whipped cream over the same area, I pulled the half eaten strawberry out of her pussy and ate it.
I took a third strawberry and squeezed the juice over her whipped cream covered pussy. Placing the nozzle of the whipped cream at Lydia’s deep recess, I filled her with whipped cream. She would have to clean herself out later, but it was the moment that counted.
“Ummm. That feels so good. You are so wicked.”
I flashed my naughtiest smile. “You bring out the wicked in me.”
Prepared and ready, Miss Perfect waited impatiently. Her large eyes grew larger as I lowered my head to her pubis and licking everything in my path worked my way down her clitoral hood to her clit. Her back arched and she cried out her joy as I sucked it into my voracious mouth. I continued tonguing her clit for a time, then moved my tongue, languorously, toward her womanly well and a cornucopia of whipped cream. Pushing five of the smaller strawberries into her whipped cream filled vessel, my tongue delved deep into her recess to retrieve what I could and when I could get no more, I sucked and sucked. Whipped cream, strawberries and whatever transferred from her tasty twat into my insatiable mouth.
Dee Dawning Erotic romance for the naughty streak in all of us