Page 21 of His Weekend Girl
As Stevie Wonder played in her ears, Trixie wondered what would her life be like once she returned to Earth. If she played her cards right, she had enough money to last a year or forever. She can also restart her failed graphic design career. Oh, after the vacation with Amberswan. That was a must.
She suddenly heard a knock at the door and it opened shortly after. “Can I come in?”
It was Grant. Trixie thought about covering herself up but she was up to her shoulders in bubbles. Grant couldn’t see anything anyway. “Sure, come in.”
Grant strolled in wearing his business casual black suit with a white collared shirt. He walked inside the bathroom and made a beeline to Trixie’s tub. He pulled up a small chair and looked down at her with a smile.
Trixie was a sight to behold with her sculpted cheekbones, almond-slanted eyes, and full lips. She didn’t try to be sexy; she just was. “You survived the night?”
“So far,” she noted with a weary smile, “it’s only Friday so there’s still the entire weekend. We’re supposed to go on a shopping trip before the spa treatments here tomorrow afternoon.” While Trixie dreaded going on the shopping excursion – she was invited before she had a chance to decline – she looked forward to the spa treatment. Maybe after a massage, she wouldn’t care about being around Fake Fanny and her girl group, The Bitches. “How was your night?”
“Not as exciting as yours I’m afraid,” Grant chuckled, “other than the standard ass-kissing and pretending everyone’s your friend when they can’t wait to stab you in the back the first chance they get, it was nothing but business and sports talk. If someone feels froggy, they’ll talk about the newest luxury vacation they just went on that they totally couldn’t afford andmaxed out every credit card they had to continue the illusion. I would know because I handle their accounts.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s always the same stuffy bullshit. People want to make it seem like they’re this deep person with values, but they’re not. They just want toappearthey do.”
“So, they just talk about themselves to make themselves look better?” Trixie asked and Grant nodded. “It doesn’t make sense. Why do they do that?”
“To hear themselves talk,” Grant added, “why else?”
Trixie considered. “I never thought about that.”
“You’re not missing much in high society, Trix.” Grant slouched in his chair, “The richer you are, the worse the conversations are. They’re not talking about social justice, or anything pertinent. It’s always a dick-measuring contest. Someone went on vacation in the Poconos? Well, someone has to talk about how they hung out with Jeff Bezos on his yacht around the same time. Someone just purchased their dream car? Well, someone else has to talk about how they’re looking into a car that’s triple the value of the other person’s car. It’s never-ending. They hate each other and want to be like each other at the same.”
“That sounds…exhausting.” She admitted.
“It very much is so.” He pushed out a breath. “You’re not missing much, trust me.”
“Well, the money.” She pointed out. “Money solves a lot of problems.”
“Money also creates a lot of problems.” He retorted.
“True,” she admitted. She glanced back up at Grant, who was currently fidgeting with his expensive watch. She didn’t know if he was trying to be respectful and not look directly at her or if he was truly distracted. She felt weird kicking him out of the bathroom so she could finish the bath, but she didn’t want him to leave quite yet.
It didn’t help the bathtub was big enough to fit them both rather comfortably. “Grant?”
“Hmm?” His eyes were still on his watch.
“Did you want to join me?” Trixie asked.
Grant stopped fidgeting with his watch and stayed still. The tension became electric, and they both felt it. It was a slow build from the first night to the point it spilled over. Trixie officially passed the ball over to Grant and it was up to him if he was going to score or fumble.
After seemingly minutes, Grant finally locked eyes with Trixie. “I can’t promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Trixie smiled. “I wouldn’t want you to be.”
~~~~~
Feeling Grant behind her in the bathtub was surreal. He nibbled on her ear. Kissed her neck. Massaged her breasts. Played with her pussy a little.
But it was nothing like feeling him on top of her on the floor.
They wanted to make it to the bed; they really did. They were barely out of the tub, dried off just enough before Grant took her down on the bedroom floor. Trixie was grateful at how plush the carpeting was but didn’t focus on it the moment Grant was on top of her.
His mouth was ravenous, playing with her tongue, kissing her everywhere before he made his way down her body. He spread open her legs and hooked one over his shoulder before he tasted her. His tongue was slow and deliberate before it became quick and relentless.
Grant kept her spread open, lightly scraping his beard against her thighs and he continued to devour her. The way his tongue curved against her clit, putting that pressure that made Trixie moan and buckle against Grant’s hot mouth.
He didn’t bother to insert his fingers; he wanted Trixie to feel his mouth and tongue on her. It didn’t take long before she came hard, arching her back off the floor, and slammed back down.
“I love to see and hear you come,” Grant rose and sheathed a condom on, before he nestled between Trixie’s legs, “I want to hear it all night.” With one motion, he entered her. The pressure and friction were almost too much for them both. “So tight, baby,” he groaned.
