Morning broke with a vengeance. He's forgot to toggle the windows opaque so sunlight, bright and harsh streamed across his face the moment it crested the building ahead of him. He fought to keep his eyes closed almost enjoying the bright orange brilliance through his eyelids but eventually the heat of direct light became too much for him and he rolled out of bed.
Beside him was the new girl, what was her name again? Oh right, Barrington. She lay in the bed, her hair a tangled mess, half under the covers, less than half now as he pulled the covers a bit admiring her smooth skin. She was a work of art and a workhorse sexually. She'd do.
Lewis rose from the bed and began padding around the apartment wondering what to do. It felt unusual not to be readying for the trip in to work. It had been weeks since he'd taken a day off. Come to think of it, it had been weeks since any of them had taken much of a break. Whether the result of passion or obsession he didn't know.
It was a crisp, sunny day. A summer day. The sort of day most people wanted when they took time off and too often the sort of day one didn't see except from within their place of work.
Lewis made his way down the stairs across the wide-open space of his living area and into the full service and seldom used kitchen. Coffee probably would have cleared the cobwebs quicker but Lewis found himself drinking Orange Juice for some reason, and enjoying it.
He never drank Orange Juice, the only reason it was in the place was because Trillium could never seem to get enough of it.
Trillium. He put the glass down on thinking of her and went to the door of her room, unlocked, still open from last night, the bed still unoccupied. The front door had confirmed it too. The last time she'd been home was with him, days ago.
He linked to his office and she wasn't there, hadn't been since she left. He began tracking her through the security logs from when she had left his office. The tracker called it pretty clean, she went directly to the carport and then walked out of the building. Walked? Who walked anymore? And where would she have gone? All she had with her was her coat, she hadn't even bothered to dress when she left.
And money, she didn't carry a purse, hadn't needed it. Unless she went to a bank machine and thumbed some cash from his account she'd have none. A quick check revealed no withdrawals. Very odd.
Lewis called the agency she worked for again. They hadn't heard from her and were fast to offer to send out someone else right away. Lewis hung up in disgust, frustrated that they didn't understand his concern and more than a little stunned that except for the customer service perspective that they didn't seem to care for Trillium either.
Sure she was a prostitute but she was part of their resources and they should be concerned about her from that angle if no other. He couldn't remember her friend's name, the one that had introduced them, at least he couldn't remember her real name anyway or he'd have called her. It would have made sense if she were pissed off with him that she'd seek refuge at a friend's.
Then he thought of Parker. Trillium used to entertain him on Fridays but hadn't lately. If she went to Parker's place…? No, she wouldn't turn to him. And even if she did, well, its not like Lewis could just call, not without risking Parker learning more than he wanted him to know right now.
At that point Barrington came in wearing his bathrobe.
“I'm going to take a shower, do you want to scrub my back?” She said suggestively. This one never stops, he thought, “No, but I'll watch.”
He was rewarded with a bright toothy fresh-faced smile and a cheery “OK”. She turned and headed for the bathroom as he took another gulp of his orange juice and wondered what it would take to wipe that cheeriness of her face.
The master bathroom was an outer wall affair with ceiling to wall glass windows that let the light stream in from three angles. Considering how much he hated sunshine Lewis began to wonder why he bought the place. He bought it for same reason any insanely rich person bought anything, because of the “wow” factor with company.
She slid off the bathrobe and passed the demi-wall separating the rest of the room from the massive shower stall. As she approached the bank of nozzles they sprung to life with a cascade of water that resembled more a small steaming waterfall than a shower. Lewis sat at the end of the stall on the wooden sauna bench with his orange juice in hand and watched as she proceeded to clean all her nooks and crannies.
The water sliding across her breasts, cresting over each nipple, flowing between them and around then sheeting down her tummy only to funnel between her thighs or rinse over her hips. Her features so angular and round, sculpted, she could demand top dollar as a model and looking at her, remembering she was already twenty-five, he realized she must have been before turning escort.
Yet she looked so young that for a moment he began to feel dirty watching her but that passed when his member woke to the stimuli and he decided he would join her after all. Doffing his bedclothes he came up from behind her sliding his hands around her waist. She arched against him her body sliding between his shoulders as his hands moved up to her pert breasts.
She lay her head beside his, eyes closed as he ran his fingers across her nipples and crossed over to opposite sides to repeat. He began to gently kiss her neck, making his way up to her ear and she let out a soft moan.
He brought one hand down her abdomen, sliding down it smooth form and between her legs. The one thing about her he didn't like was the hair there, too much for him, more than he was used to. It distracted him a moment as he wound his fingers between her curls searching for her folds.
His middle finger slide along the fold downward, gently sliding between the skin of her sex while his other hand gently took her nipple with a mild squeeze. Her hips squirmed a bit trying to maximize the feeling as his finger slide along the fold again, deeper this time. And again, over and over until the finger was between the folds and the juices were flowing. He squeezed her nipple harder and she smiled.
As he began to synchronize the squeezing with the insertion her right arm came up, over her head and her hand cupped his head. He returned to kissing and nibbling her neck and then chewing her earlobe as his middle finger regularly rubbed knuckle deep in her box.
She reached behind her with her free hand, reached for his member but as she took hold of it he told her, “No.” and she stopped. He turned her around moving her against the clear window, she gasped as the cold of the glass made contact. Then, with her back to the streets below, to the light, he began to kneel before her, spreading her legs, lifting one leg over his shoulder as his face moved to her lips and he replaced his finger with his tongue.
Her arms came out, pressing against the triple paned glass, spreading to each side, to each frame as she closed her eyes and lay against the cold surface while he probed her. When his tongue found her clit her eyes bolted open with a gasp and then she began to tremble as he circled it and flicked it and slowly brought her to climax.
Barrington had never had this experience before, in a room so bright it was nearly like being outside, against the cold glass of a full length window some thirty stories above ground, to the soothing cascade sounds of a small waterfall she climaxed at the hands of a man who had turned oral sex into a art.
As she fought to stay upright he wound her to wave after wave until her body language gave away her spent nature. He rose from between her legs, kissed her belly on the way up and began to kiss her gently intertwining their saliva with her own juice. For once she didn't find that repulsive, he'd earned this.
The whole experience had been one of the most beautiful of her life and so it was doubly anti-climatic when he turned her around and pressing her upper body against the glass he took her from behind, coolly and efficiently.
