The Summer of Last Resort (14 page)

My pencil was still lying on his belly and I was afraid that it was going to wake him up, so I reached over and gingerly took it without waking him. I couldn’t help myself, God help me, ‘cause I had to reach over and gently brush his abdomen with my fingertips.

I could hear him breathing harder and then he tensed for a moment, and suddenly awoke with a start, and stared at me wide-eyed with a look of fear and anxiety, and then we both slowly turned our gaze down to his belly where he had deposited his silky, warm emission. I jerked my hand back and turned by back towards him and he quickly turned from me and covered himself up.

“What’s going on?” Kim asked, and we both said, a bit too loud, “Nothing!”. That’s the first time I heard Keith’s voice crack.

I didn't know why, I didn't know what I was feeling, and I never knew anything more about that night than what I'm writing here, but its something I never forgot. I must have eventually dozed off, and by the time I woke up they were gone. Oh, and the most interesting thing is that the crash we heard was a giant branch that fell and landed on their tent. They never told their parents, and we never talked about it, then or now.

Anyway, back to the present. I think we’re all gonna go down to the beach tomorrow afternoon and hang out. It might be a good chance to get him alone. Again... Maybe...

KIM:

June 31st - Johnny called again. He wanted me to come down to the club again. He said that he can get work for me.  I’m so mad at him for being so rude to me and I can’t believe that he tried to fuck me ! or maybe I’m just imagining that happened? Maybe I want to believe a guy like that would want me, and I made up the whole thing. He says he won’t pick me up at home anymore. He made me take the bus down to the metro park and ride, and then he picked me up in the Mercedes.  He told me that to work there, I would need a new wardrobe. I said I can’t afford it, but he said that we’d pretend to be buying this stuff, but to make a big show of being disappointed. We went down to Che Chic, which is the best boutique in the city. He picked out three new dresses and matching shoes for me, and new bras, panties, and stockings. He even went into the dressing room with me. It was so sexy when his strong arms zipped up my dress, and then he turned and kissed me gently. It was even better when he turned me around and unzipped it and then slipped his hands inside. He did a great job of chewing out the manager over their shoddy merchandise, and we left, giggling. But I was a little sad that those beautiful things weren’t mine.

The next day three packages showed up from Fed Ex. Guess what!!! It was the dresses. I can’t believe he did that for me. Inside there were post-it notes attached to a pair of panties, a blue dress, shoes, and some earrings. The note told me to wear these to the interview. But how could I sneak those things out? I couldn’t tell anyone. No one would understand about Johnny. He’s not like anyone I’ve met.

July 1st -  I drove down to the gym and changed there, and then I met Johnny at the park and ride again. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was just going down. He told me how beautiful I looked. He said he was sorry about the other night. How different from how he had treated me before. Now he had me alone without those clinging girls. His strong hand firmly grasped the gearshift as the powerful car sped into the gathering darkness. That made me think about how it would feel to hold his knob. But part of me was still mad at him.  When the gearshift reached top gear, he let his hand stray over to my thigh. I brushed his hand off, and then I worked up enough courage to tell him that I was so mad at him for what he did to me at the club.  He apologized (my God, THAT MEANS IT REALLY HAPPENED !!!!) and said that things got out of control and he didn’t know what was happening. He put his hand on my thigh again, but I swatted it away. But the third time I let him keep it there.

This time we didn’t go to the club, instead the car sped up the hills which overlook the city. We pulled up to a gate that you need a keycard to enter, and pulled in. Johnny’s house is fantastic! It overlooks the city. Even the air smells better up there. I didn’t see too much of the house, but he led me to the mini-bar in the living room and fixed me a scotch on the rocks. Not really a lady-like drink, but a stiff one’s what I wanted. He walked me out to the balcony and showed me the city lights spread out below. They were beautiful, just like stars. I felt his hand around my waist and the warmth of his body next to mine. His clothes were smooth, crisp, and expensive, from his black Italian leather shoes, his soft and crisply pleated slacks, his pressed white shirt, to his blue silk tie, he was a man that looked like success. He had a tailor. His shoes were always polished,He smelled like... money and cologne ... and power. How different than the young guys I usually hang out with.

We had another drink, and some small talk, and then he took me back to the living room. He told me that I was so beautiful in that dress, that he wanted to send a photo to the designer, and that it was a shame not to. I told him no, but he was insistent. He showed me the designer’s catalog with her personal signature in it - “To Johnny, who always captures my best work.”

First he helped me with my hair and my makeup, which seemed a little, well, gay, but I have to admit he knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what lipstick and eyeliner went with that dress and my own skin tone. A diamond studded bracelet was the final accent to the ensemble Johnny had provided me.

He had moved his living room couch over to the atrium which adjoins the pool. A large roll of seamless backdrop paper was suspended from the ceiling, and a funny-looking silver thing (later I learned it was a reflector) was lying on the floor nearby. In front of the couch was a chair, and then my eyes were drawn to a small red end-table upon which was a silver metal bucket of ice which was chilling a bottle of something expensive looking. The bucket was sweating in the afternoon heat. It looked like it was nervous, too. I watched as a little bead of water broke and then slowly, hesitatingly slid down that cool, damp surface to

“Are you nervous?” he asked me - no shit I was nervous! I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach, but then when he stood in front of me and held my hands and spoke softly to me.

“I want you to empty your mind, Kim. Focus on your breathing.” I tried, but it was hard.

“Take a deep breath - in through the nose, now out through the mouth.... That’s it, another breath.... Now, take all the tension you have in your neck, and push it down.... Now, the tension in your arms - let that flow out your fingertips.... Do you feel it dropping away? Good... Now, the tension in your legs is falling away, dropping away under your feet.... Keep controlling your breathing. Now, the tension in your stomach - the anxiety you keep bottled up within you, my sweet darling - take in a big breath this time, and now exhale and blow it out - Again!”

Anyway, it was something like that. When I opened my eyes I felt better, and he was across the room smiling at me.

He poured the champagne for us and then I posed for him while he took pictures of me using a fancy-looking camera and flash. I was a lousy model I think because he couldn’t do anything with me by the backdrop. I tried to look grown-up and sexy for him behind the lens, but it just made him laugh, which made me turn red.

“You can’t play the coquette, Kim,” he said. “Maybe we should try the Breakfast at Tiffany’s look. Wait here.” He left and soon returned with a little basket of trinkets and a couple of champagne glasses. “Try these.”

He handed me some long lady’s gloves, some sunglasses, a tiara, and one of those old-fashioned cigarette holders. It was like playing dress-up all over. I felt like a sexy Audrey Hepburn and goofed off for him on the couch. His gaze was at first playful and his eyes sparkled like the rhinestones on my tiara. I felt nervous, yes, but with a thrill of something I’d never experienced. Part of me still hated him for what he had done to me at the club but the other part of me was thrilled that this man - not a boy - who could have anyone he wanted - wanted me. And I wanted to make him want me.

Johnny got an intense look in his eye and stood me up and unzipped the back of my dress, and had me turn to the side and photographed me from behind. It felt sexy to lie there with my dress half-on, with the curve of my back accented by the hard shadows of from the flash. Then he pushed me gently onto the couch, and I felt his strong hands positioning me carefully, but now the dress was mostly off but artfully gathered around me. I realized now why he had selected those panties for me as I felt his hands pulling my dress up. He let his hands linger on my buttocks, caressing them as he positioned me for the next shot, my ass provocatively exposed, and I spread my legs, unbidden, for his gaze. I could hear him breathing louder, more deliberately and that turned me on. I started moving for him, arching my back and rocking my pelvis so that his gaze was burning like fire into my core. I wanted to make him hard. I wanted his hands to shake and his body to tremble at the sight of me.

“That’s it, baby. You’re smokin!... now, turn around.”

Then as I did, he reached forwards to adjust my glove, but then he turned my face to his and kissed me on the lips, gently and tenderly. I kissed him back, softly at first, but then more passionately the next time, and he felt so good, and warm, holding me and touching me all over, yet I still knew he was bad, bad for me and was just using me. But the fact that I was turning this man on, this man who could buy any woman he wanted, but wanted me, was a new thrill. A feeling of power and excitement came over me. I wanted him to lust for me, to grow hard for me, to stroke himself in the lonely night thinking about my young body. I wanted his hands on me, on my breasts and on my pussy, finally when his fingers went inside me I was open and wet for him, but then he pulled away.

“Let’s try something different,” he said. “I need you to trust me for this.”

“I don’t trust you, Johnny. Not at all.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re right,” he said, taking my hands in his. “And I don’t trust me. How about you do what I say anyway.”

I was a little shocked, but he kept smiling at me and then he reached behind himself and suddenly handcuffed me.

“What the hell is this!” I shouted.

“Easy, easy babe. It’s just for show. Here,” and he showed me the key. “I’ll put it.... right... here,” he said and placed it on the table next to the champagne.

“I should have told you,” he continued. “We’re going for the - ransom - look. The sexy society dame that’s being ransomed.” And with that, he reached forward and smeared my lipstick with his thumb.

“Just a little.”

I wanted to bite him, and I could feel my lips trembling as his touch lingered there. He knew I was going to bite and withdrew his hand quickly.

“Naughty kitten!”

He reached back and unclasped my bra, but didn’t take it off, and he zipped me back up a little. I held my bra to me with my arm, and that was just the look he was going for and he snapped off about a dozen shots.

“Good, good, my kitten” he purred, “But not good enough. He came close to me and then, without warning, kissed me deeply and passionately, pulling me to him, but then, the bastard, slipped a blindfold over my eyes. I reached up with my handcuffed hands to take them off, but he just grabbed me roughly and then threw me down.

“I’m sorry, my dear. But if you keep that up, I’ll have to spank you.”

As I sat up I could hear the flap and whir of the camera as he took more pictures of me. Then he pushed me back onto the couch and slid his knee between my legs, forcing me open. I tried to shield myself with my dress and bra, but he pulled those gently aside and then I felt him leaning over close to me, nuzzling my neck and earlobe, and then suddenly I felt something intensely cold on my left nipple. The coolness made it stiffen, and then I felt Johnny’s fingers on the other one, and then his lips on me as he sucked in the ice cube he was holding in his mouth and I felt his cool, wet lips encircling my aureole.

“That’s so much better,” he whispered as his oral examination continued down my belly, stroking me with the ice cube and then lavishing kisses where it had left. Finally, he left the ice cube in my belly button and then his mouth went lower, lower, and I could feel his hot breath coming down, over my moistening sex, while I tried to search for the key with my cuffed hands. I was torn between tousling his hair and bashing him on the head with the champagne bottle, but he had cleverly left that, and the key, out of reach. I tried to push him away, but the harder I pushed, the harder the demon in me pulled his head into me, pulled his mouth over my eager sex, my body shaking at his ministrations. NO! He’s a bastard! But I wanted him to fuck me. And then I could kill him.

Finally he paused, and then I felt his lips on my tummy as he sucked the ice cube out of my belly button with his mouth, and then I heard the crunch of the ice in his strong jaws.

“Show me fire,” he commanded, but I didn’t know where he was. I could hear him pacing and the flap of the SLR camera’s mirror as he clicked off another half-dozen shots of me as I let my handcuffed hands roam over my body. The booze was going to my head, which was spinning, and I couldn’t see anything, and my wrists ached, but there was an even stronger ache down there, an ache for - you know what!

“Take off your panties,” Johnny commanded, but I shook my head.

“No, my sweet?” he said quizzically.

I shook my head again.

“I think you will.”

“You think I’m...easy,” I shot back.

“Let’s just say, that I know you, Kim. You and I are alike, even though you don’t think so.”

“I... I’m not like you, Johnny,” I said, covering my breasts with the sheer blue fabric of the dress. It was cool and silky to the touch, and I could feel myself getting red.

“I know you have a thing for Keith. You might even think you’re in love.”

“What?”

“I GAVE him to you, Kim.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied. I’d known Keith since we were kids - what was he up to?