The Highest Bidder
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CynthiaChapter 2 free porn video
After she drove away, I went to the gym and swam my 5000 meters in near personal record time. Then, I worked out furiously. The next days, I swam twice and worked out between. My mind wandered in class and my brain demanded that I pay attention. It was the hollow feeling in my gut that prevailed. Finally, by Wednesday, sometimes, for five minutes, I did not long for her, and worked on assignments. You're in deep shit.
At home Wednesday evening the phone vibrated my pocket. I didn't recognize the number. "Charles Bradford, are you alone?"
"Cynthia. My God. I don't answer when someone is here. Are you okay?"
"No. My problems are even worse."
I felt a huge relief. Then I asked a dumb question. "You slept with him?"
"Yes. Just like last time. I wanted it to be you." After a long pause, "Charles, uhhh, will you rescue me?"
"I am your loyal knight. Yes, when, where?"
Her voice perked up. "Thank you, Sir Charles. I'm near Hendersonville at the intersection of I-26 and highway 64. Tomorrow morning, I will meet you in a gas station at that turnoff. I will call you to hear when I should make my break. How long?"
"It will take at least four hours."
"I really need to see you. What will you do with me?"
What the fuck would I do with a married woman? I can give her a ride home, but what then? Suddenly, I recovered slightly from her spell, "Cynthia, I can come for you. You bedazzle me and I can't think straight and even that is mostly about you. I am obsessed. When I come for you, I don't know what I will do with you."
She replied softly. "How soon you forget."
"You are a married woman. What would we do after that?"
Scarlett dodged the meaning and said flippantly, "We'll just go to sleep, I hope. I haven't had much sleep since I left."
"Cynthia, do you want to wake up with me? We haven't a clue about what to do next. Have your therapy week and decide about him. You have a husband. I dreaded that you might have worked it out with him."
Her words just poured out almost without taking a breath. "I might have made it another year if we didn't live together and if I hadn't taken up with you. My mother wanted me to marry him. She thought I deserved a man of means. So did I. That's a helluva situation. I want to be more than a trophy armpiece. So, I lie in bed with him, ruminating about our passion in your truck and your house. I was still me when I left the West Mall with you. I was someone else when you walked me downstairs at your house to send me up here. That's why I couldn't trust myself in Geology. I did not want to get out of your truck after our lake visit. I have never had bagels and lox naked with a strange man. I cherish it. You're not the only one off balance here," she cried.
"I didn't want you to leave."
"When you kissed me on the dance floor, what did you want? Why did you do that? Tell me the truth, Charles."
I was not prepared for that line of questions and never having been to charm school. "Just like every other guy in the room, I wanted a piece of your ass."
"God, Bradford, you really know how to make a girl feel special. You got your fuck. I'm sorry I called you." Then she hissed, "Have a nice day."
CynthiaCynthia
I was momentarily disabled by his remark. How could I have been so wrong? I took a deep breath, just like the coach told me and let it out slowly. Then another. I had my senses back. Cynthia, get hold of yourself. You are smarter than that. He could not mean that he only wanted a fuck. Not after all that lovemaking and those long conversations. Why would he be so brutal? Then, I reviewed my interaction with him. He had strong feelings for me and I told him I couldn't see him anymore. He's out on an emotional limb and you're crowding him. What would he do with you?
If he doesn't call back, I will have to call him and explore the situation. I owe him at least that. I remembered that I realized some benefit from this workshop. I learned to listen through hard emotional attacks. He would feel guilty tomorrow and I could understand and validate his feelings. I know he wants more than one fuck. I'd better be right because I don't know what to do if I'm wrong.
Bradford ReactsBradford reacts
I felt the tears welling in my eyes. What is wrong with you? Good boy. That may be the rudest fucking remark you ever made. Do not leave it on the table. She didn't deserve hateful words like that.
I collected myself, had a drink to calm down and think. Then, I opened my phone and dialed the last number stored. She answered while sniffling. I didn't know how to open. She did. "Are you having a nice day?"
I was cornered and she knew it. Just tell the truth. I mumbled, "No. I'm feeling miserable. That was the dumbest thing I ever said. Please forgive me. I am completely infatuated with you."
"That didn't sound like you. I sense that you are angry with me." She hesitated, and then asked, "Is that all you wanted?"
"No, of course not. I love your company and I like being with you. I didn't do well this week missing you."
"I like that much better. To make us even, I wanted you, too. You made my panties wet while we danced and I got more than I expected in your bed, too. Come for me. We will decide on the way back what to do with each other. When we get home, you will either leave me at the sorority or take me home with you. Don't feel crowded. Bill Crawford owes me a big favor and he will come and get me if you don't want me. I can't stay here."
"I won't leave you there. SEALs never leave wounded behind. Call me when you decide what time I should be there. You will have to make your break."
"Okay. I'll call you after breakfast. That should give you time. I'll beg out of the group lunch and make my escape. I do not want to confront him here among all these other couples." She paused, and then said, "I have to go. Call you in the morning."
"Night, Cynthia." I felt like a ton of guilt had been removed from my shoulders. The question still remains, though. What will I do with her?
Next morning, I was dressed, fed, and surfing the net when she called. She said, "Let's try for about noon at that convenience store. I'll park away from the door in a white sports car."
"I'm leaving now. Call me in three hours to see how much longer it will be. Wear a skirt. Does he have a gun?"
"Gun? Not here, I think. No guns on the property. It is a religious retreat called Kaunga. You will see signs. "Then, she brightened, "See, Charles, think of this as one more clandestine SEAL rescue operation."
Driving west on I-26, I pondered what I was getting into. I solved one dilemma, only to open a second. I had already been through this exercise before, but I compared her again to my 'Cynthia Standard.' She was bright, beautiful, fun, and sexually talented. She had done or said nothing disappointing like smoking, fracturing the language, or making politically stupid remarks. She was much more mature than the other campus women. Except for that one major flaw, she was a keeper. You're rationalizing, Bradford. Cut the crap. You're the moth and she is the flame. You have no choice in this.
The phone rang and I saw her number. "Hi, Cynthia."
There was this soft tentative voice, "Bradford, are you coming for me? Where are you?"
"I'm about 45 minutes away from that junction, as best I can tell. I'm going as fast as I dare to avoid speeding tickets. Don't worry, I will get you."
I heard her cry. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know you said you would. I imagined that you changed your mind. I am in so much turmoil and I'm afraid."
"If I had changed my mind, I would have called you. I wouldn't leave you stranded."
"In my mind, I know that. I'm just in a bad place right now. I have to hang up. Forty five minutes?"
"Forty, now."
I saw her pacing in front of her car when I took the off ramp. I quickly put her bags in the cabin and opened her door.
"I am relieved to see you Charles. Forgive my crying fit. I am getting in now and I am not getting back out." She looked right into my eyes, put her cool hand on my face, and said, "Thank you, Charles," and kissed me briefly.
Then, she moved to her seat, put on her seatbelt, took a deep breath and dialed his number. She got his voice mail. "Blair, I had to leave. It did not work for me at all. I cannot handle the Jesus stuff. Your car is parked at the gas station just outside the property. The keys are on the left rear tire. You and I made foolish decisions, but now I have to do an annulment or divorce. I won't go on with this."
Get the hell out of here! I drove furiously back toward Raleigh.
The next time she talked, she sounded upset. "Charles, I know that you're running from the Taliban, but I have been in this truck an hour and you have not kissed me once. Not once. It has been four days. Are you still angry? Do you remember me?"
Her phone interrupted. "Hello, Blair. No, I will not be back for dinner. You do not need to know where I am. I am listening. What I heard was that all the problems were caused by my moving back into the sorority house. I know that your friends thought that strange. Mine didn't. I am sorry. These three days helped me decide what to do next. I don't think you ever heard me. I cannot do Jesus. I hope you will listen more carefully to your next. Please do not call again. I have to go now. Bye."
She was crying. I patted her knee and said, "That had to be awful."
She cried more, and then she asked rapidly in frustration, "Are you a Jesus person? Do you sniff white powder? What is that music?"
I had put three roses from my landlady's garden in the cup holder. She finally saw them. "For me, Charles?"
"No, I don't sniff coke or do Jesus. I smoke an occasional joint. Roses for you, Cynthia. It is NPR. I believe it is the Brahms first. Looks like a rest stop coming up. You go first. Then, I will see if I can remember you." Wow. Smooth. That sounded just like you were reporting to the Chief.
"Could you possibly forgive my last complaint?" she cried again as she held the roses, and headed for the rest room.
When she returned with dry eyes, I reached for her. "Come here precious. You had a bad time." I held her for a while and then I asked, "Will you kiss me?" She kissed me well.
"Oh, you didn't forget. Mmmmm."
Back on the freeway, she moved to the center seat, put her arm around me, kissed my face and neck, and nibbled my ears. Twirling her fingers in my hair she asked, "Why the skirt? I don't see any Taliban."
"You'll see in due time." I drove for another half-hour until her breathing returned to normal and she didn't seem to be crying. "Take off your panties."
She laughed. "You are soooo suave, Charles Bradford. Just 'Take off your panties.' For God's sake."
She put a pair of white high cuts in my outstretched hand and I sniffed the cotton liner. The damp musky aroma went directly to my old brain and I remembered her smell. I covered her lap with my jacket, nudged her thighs apart, and then caressed her wet place lightly.
"Skirt. Now I know. No panties in pickup. God, that's good." I stroked her as lightly as I could. The slow movement of my finger finally relaxed her enough to begin feeling sexy. The movement of my finger and the vibration of the truck created exactly the touch I wanted. Then, I stroked her through several orgasms leaving time between each one to pause and then resume the feather touch. Later, she put her arm back around me and nuzzled my ear. "Uhmmm, how long was 'that'?"
"About thirty-five minutes." I gave her back her panties.
As she lifted her butt to put them on, she said softly, "Well, it took my mind off my problems for a while. These are a little messy. Charles, I'm having my all-time worst foot-in-mouth problem today with someone who matters. Can you rewind the tape and erase that 'suave' remark, too?"
I smiled and nodded. "Your foot-in-mouth doesn't even approach mine. You are completely forgiven." After a while, I asked, "How did you start with Blair?"
"He was on my dance card at the senior prom. Don't laugh. We danced on the country club terrace behind the plants. It was romantic. He kissed me. We started going out." What the hell did I just say? Oh, God, What is he thinking? "When I told my mother, she was thrilled. He was a real catch in my hometown."
She dozed on my shoulder as I drove to her sorority house and parked near her car. She awakened and saw where she was. "Oh, Charles, no, you just can't leave me here."
"Go get your curlers and vibrator, whatever you need, and your laptop and books. Get your car. I have your bags. I will unload your car when you get home. It's better if your car is not here."
Back at my apartment, we took our time unloading her suitcases of a few things. Then, I went for a carry out Chinese meal while she soaked in a hot bath. As we ate, she said, "Let's not talk about all this tonight. I'm not up to it. Tomorrow, okay?"
"How about some humor on the tube? That's mindless. We might even get a laugh."
She laughed cynically. "That sounds like about all I'm capable of right now."
"I'll get you a drink and we can sit together and enjoy."
We watched until we both relaxed. I had my arm around her as she snuggled in. "This is better, Charles. I feel better. Since I didn't sleep much last night, do you think we could go to bed?"
"Yes, we can. I feared that you might go back to your room."
"Maybe I should, but if you don't mind, I'll stay with you."
We readied ourselves for bed. I noticed that she undressed completely and made no bones about nightclothes. She moved quickly to me and I put both arms around her holding her close. She sighed, and then said, "This feels good. I feel safe and comfortable, even though this is our first night together."
After I held and stroked her for a while, she put her face in the kissing position and opened her mouth. When I covered it with mine, we reverted to the tongue dance that aroused my craving for her. When she pulled back and caressed my face, she said, "You know I'm getting kind of needy after all that conflict. I can feel that you're ready. Maybe we could satisfy our needs?"
We indeed satisfied our needs with a long sex reunion. I awoke with her cuddled in my spoon in the morning. I was thrilled and scared.
She stretched and turned to me. "Morning, Charles. I slept all night. I am happy. God, I was terrified when I thought you were leaving me over there. I have to tell you something." She faced me and looked directly into my eyes, "I realized yesterday on the way home how much I care for you. You held me and let me cry. I felt safe. I am so glad to be with you this morning. This 'fling' is not playing out as quickly as you said. Don't be nervous. If I'm nice, may I stay for a while?" Her voice seemed almost an octave higher as she talked faster.
"Sure. I'm running a refuge house for wayward wives. I do not know what to do with you. Can I afford to support your lifestyle?"
She slapped my butt hard twice and said "no-no" by signaling with her finger, "No-No, don't go there. Don't ever mention wayward wives again."
Then, she brightened. "What to do with me? I can help with that. First, you kiss me good morning. Then you go make coffee. I will see if there's anything fit to eat. We may or may not eat here, depending. Then, we make love. Then, we go to the gym in separate cars. When we come home, you give me a shower, wash my hair, and clean my back."
Then, she thought for a while. "After that, I make a task list that says what you are to do the rest of the day. Oh, yes. I like this. I will make you a list each day until you sort of get the hang of what to do with me. You will learn. The list will be in your PDA. Always read it. There may be some surprises. Okay, Just to be safe, review the first five items for today." She babbled nervously again.
"I kissed you. I made coffee. There is food. We eat. We make love. We work out. I wash your hair and do your back. Notice that some tasks have been done."
"Charles, number five is critical right now. I'm feeling squishy and anxious — kind of out on a limb. I'm an accomplished sex object, but I don't want to be just another piece of ass for you. Am I really 'delicious'? I need to know how you feel. I will work on that 'afford' thing and get back to you."
I mimicked her style. "Feelings? My infatuation is fierce. I don't know how I feel about anything else. You consume my consciousness. You can never know how delicious you are. I don't know what that all means, but that is where you are."
"I want to stay there, Charles."
Later, she looked at her list. "We just got through our first half-day playing house. Are you frightened? We accomplished all the tasks. I cannot believe how nicely you brushed my hair and did my back. Where did you learn to brush like that... ? Don't ever tell me. Now, will you make this afternoon's list or should I?"
"You're doing well. Continue. However, Sunday afternoon at 4, my former girl friend is playing violin in a string quartet and Christina asked me two weeks ago to show up. She was afraid no one would come during the break. I said I would."
"I'm struggling with this former girl friend thing, Charles. Okay. First, you're going to Subway and get our salads. Then, we eat. Then, we make love. I go back to my room and pick up a few things. I stop at the market and get something for dinner. Do you grill? While I am gone, you miss me and make a place for me in your house. I need closet space, a drawer, and a place for my makeup and toothbrush.
"Sunday we go to the string quartet in separate cars. Then, there is a French film at the Miracle. Uh, oh. No, that is a bad idea. You rent a film and bring it back here."
She was putting on a good show, but I knew she was on edge. She never used to babble on like that. "I go to Subway. I get onions on salads. I come home. We make love. We eat. I go rent a film. While you are gone, I miss you and make a place for you in my house. Of course I can grill."
"Charles, the task list says we eat first and then make love. Always do it in the right order. There are reasons. Let's not get off on the wrong foot. Right? Can we review?"
"Cynthia, I love to provide sex and comfort for you. You need both. I am into this thing pretty far. You have a husband. Can I trust you? I don't want to be just a sex object either."
"You're not just my sex object. I'm glad that you're in trouble here, too." She sighed and threw up her hands. "I promise that I will stop my frantic babbling."
We managed to have fun and romance with candles and outstanding sex through the weekend. She was a little edgy at the string quartet, maybe because we couldn't sit together. She paid a lot of attention to Christina.
As we went to bed Sunday night, she cuddled with me and whispered, "I appreciate you for supporting me. I have been difficult, but I hope that you notice that I'm not quite as hysterical. Your strong arms comfort me."
"I like you here, Cynthia. It's where you ought to be right now. You delight me every minute."
"Were you in love with Christina?"
"I think so. We were on and off for a year."
"What happened?"
"I realized that our careers and lives would not go in compatible directions. I think she did, too. So, we each scratched the other's itches and moved on."
"Did you live with her?"
"No."
"When was the last time you slept with her?"
"Cynthia, I'm not comfortable talking in any more detail about the relationship I had with her."
"Was she a good lover?"
I kissed her and said, "Time for us to go to sleep. We have to rejoin reality tomorrow."
We slept, but seemingly instantly, reality resumed with the radio blaring Morning Edition. "Cynthia, roll over here. It is Monday. Class day, remember classes? You'll have to get your ass out of bed. You may shower first. Aren't they going to miss you at the sorority?"
"Charles, you are strong. I had put my other life behind me. In my daydreams, I hoped we were normal. I do not want to go back there. I have lived with you day and night for five straight days. I'm not sure I can kick the habit."
We somehow managed to get back on campus and go to our individual classes. I returned home about four and found her there working on her computer. She stood and came to kiss me. "Welcome home, hero. I hope you have work to do, because I have to finish this paper tonight."
"I always have work to do. And my PDA says it is my turn to fix dinner. So, you can keep on working."
She smiled warmly at me. "Thanks. When I parked my car in the garage, I saw a folding table. Do you think we could bring it up here and put it in the corner? I don't like to take up the kitchen table with my school work."
"Sure, I'll get it right now." I went down and retrieved the table, wiped it clean, and took it upstairs. When I set it up I noticed that I would have to get a longer network cable, but what I had would do for the time being.
She moved her computer and her papers to the new table and then she jumped up and hugged me, ending it with a kiss. "God, I really appreciate you."
She had planned our week to ease our work schedules and household duties. I felt comfortable with the schedule and I chose not to waste any more time with the guys shooting snooker or playing video games. That way, we had time to work and time to play. It felt good. Tuesday night, she made dinner, and then we worked and went to bed to make love. We cuddled and slept soundly. Neither of us had classes Thursday morning. I decided to take my weekly long distance bike ride. I could tell that she welcomed the time to be alone with her work. After all, we'd hardly been out of each other's sight except for class.
I reflected on that as I rode through the countryside on that beautiful morning. For our sanity, we would have to get a larger apartment to keep from being right on top of each other all the time. I didn't want to leave Laura's property. It had been ideal. We would have to think and plan how we could keep from crowding each other to death.
Cynthia's View
I was relieved when he told me that he wanted to unwind on his bicycle. That would give me at least three hours of concentration. It is hard to do that when he is here. I was behind in a lot of assignments. I didn't want to go to the house or the library.
When he left, I had this comfortable feeling of privacy, knowing that he would be back in a short while. I could actually concentrate on my work. Then, I had this overwhelming wave of curiosity. I was living in his house, but I didn't know what was in the cabinets or drawers. I didn't really want to snoop, but I weakened and began looking through the food cabinets and — please forgive me — his closet and drawers. I found a tux and a dinner jacket along with all the shirts, studs and suspenders. Hmmm? I'd like to see him in that. His wardrobe, though not extensive, was adequate for most of the events at a university. I wasn't looking for evidence. I just wanted to have more of a feel for him. Yeah, right, Cynthia. You found those pictures of the other women and your hand was shaking. Face it. You're used goods, too.
Actually, it didn't take all that long to learn my new whereabouts. I was surprised to see the food stocks and seasonings, and even things carefully arranged in the freezing compartment. After satisfying my curiosity, I pondered for a minute. What am I doing here? Is it real? Regardless, I still managed to get a paper formatted and completed.
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