Anthea s baby 1
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The Lustful Truth Ch. 04 free porn video
By Wednesday night, I knew something was wrong. Jon hadn’t stayed over since Thursday, and now, almost a week later, I knew that something wasn’t right. Whenever I tried to talk to him though, he would kiss me on the forehead and tell me he’d talk to me later. Later turned into hours later, then days.
‘Jon, I need to talk to you.’ His back is to me as he files through some papers in a filing cabinet.
‘Uh, yes Bella, just give me a little while.’ He doesn’t look at me, he continues searching, his deep, raspy, Greek laced voice the only thing familiar about him now. ‘I’ll talk to you later, I’m very busy right now.’
I consider turning to walk away, but stop mid turn, and move closer to him. ‘Turn around and look at me.’
‘Ha?’ he says, not looking up.
‘Turn around and fucking look at me.’
He catches the edge in my voice, and turns his head to me. He looks tired.
‘I need to talk to you.’ I stare into his eyes, trying to keep myself composed. He stares back at me, having never seen me angry, and he struggles between his own thoughts and the look on my face. He exhales in a way that sounds like he’s been holding his breath for days.
‘What can I do for you?’
I take a step back, almost flinching at the acidity of the question. I see his jaw clench and feel my heart start racing. I look down at the ground, processing his words. ‘Nothing,’ I say, ‘Nothing apparently.’ I turn to walk away when he grabs my wrist and pulls me back. My face is expressionless as I continue staring at the floor.
‘Fuck, Bella,’ he whispers.
I stand there, stunned, finding no words. I can’t look at him. I can’t speak to him. I can’t walk away from him. I stand there waiting for words that I don’t want to hear to strike me. Instead, he moves his face to mine, puts his lips on the side of my face, close enough to my ear that his breath is tickles me, and says, ‘Not here.’ He grabs my face with one hand on either side, as a tear starts rolling down my cheek, he slowly pulls his lips to mine, closes his eyes, and kisses me, very, very softly. I feel a hint of his tongue for just a second and then he moves away. When he opens his eyes, they’re glistening.
‘Not here.’
I say nothing as I turn around and walk away from him, nothing as I pick up my bag and leave the office for the day. I don’t turn around, not even for a second.
. . .
When Anna sees me approaching the table, she reaches out for the waiter and I can hear her asking for him to change her order of two glasses of wine to a bottle. She puts out her hand to me as I sit down and I take it and squeeze.
‘This is not good.’ She’s got that look on her face, the one that people make when you’re telling them a story and they imitate the look on your own face as you’re telling it.
Her eyebrows are furrowed and her mouth is in a very strained frown. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
I force a laugh. ‘If I only knew what was going on. That would be so much easier…’
‘Tell me what’s going on with you. Not with them, with you. What are you thinking?’ She squeezes my hand again and let’s go as the waiter comes back to the table with our beautiful bottle of Santa Margherita Pinto Grigio and pours us each a glass. We order our food and as the waiter is walking away, I tell him to get another bottle of wine ready.
I exhale. ‘I don’t know what I’m thinking.’ I sip some wine, then gulp some wine. ‘I don’t know what I was ever thinking. On the one hand, I never should have gotten involved with Christian, especially not two days before his wedding. And on the other hand, I don’t know what fucking planet I was living on thinking that Kostas fucking Niarchos, gazillionaire-Greek-fucking-god would ever be able to give a shit about me anyway. I mean, I know he cares, but it’s not like he really fucking cares.’ I gulp some more wine. Anna puts her hand to her mouth and tentatively nods in agreement. ‘I say fuck a lot.’ Anna laughs.
‘You do, yes.’ She sits back in her chair, staring at me, sizing either me or her thoughts up. She leans forward and I know it’s me she’s going after. ‘Why is it not possible that he really c – sorry – really fucking cares?’
I stare at her. ‘He’s got more numbers in his bank account than I do in my social security number,’ I chuckle out, taking another gulp, ‘and by numbers I mean actual digits, first of all, that’s first of all…’ I pour myself more wine. ‘Second of all, I’ve heard rumors that he’s up for People’s sexiest man of the year, and who won that last year? George Clooney? Brad Pitt? I don’t know, it slipped my mind which A-list celebrity won last year. I have never had plastic surgery and don’t intend to, I curse and apparently drink like a sailor, which reminds me,’ and I take another drink from my glass, ‘and I’m just not… I’m just not…’
Anna shakes her head, searching my face for my next word. ‘Just not what?’
‘Equal,’ I finally say. ‘I’m just not fucking equal.’
She stays silent for a moment, considering this word. ‘I understand that this is an intimidating scenario. I don’t know how I would feel were I in your position…’
‘Unworthy…’ I mutter.
‘…but have you ever considered that maybe that’s why he likes you? Because you’re not the same breed of bullshit he’s been surrounded by since he was born? Did you ever consider how very, very easy it would be for him to walk out onto the street and find himself a manicured, well spoken, trust-fund hoecake to decorate his arm every day?’
I smile at her. ‘It would be wonderful to consider that it’s a possibility that he really cares. Truly it would, but I don’t think that’s the case, Anna, I really don’t.’
‘Then why’s he so upset about Christian? Why hasn’t he spent the night or even spoken to you since that fuckbag popped his stupid face back into your life? If Jon was just fucking you and didn’t care, then he wouldn’t give a shit about any of this Christian nonsense.’
I drink more wine. I remember I haven’t eaten. I drink again anyway. ‘And then there’s this Christian nonsense…’
‘You’re changing the subject, but okay. What about this Christian nonsense? You haven’t seen or spoken to him in a year, since you fucked him – I’m sorry to be so blunt – but since you fucked him and he walked down the aisle with Teeth McGee. You were best friends for ten years and he waits until two days before his wedding to tell you he loves you?’ Her voice starts to escalate, and I push her wine glass towards her. She takes it and drinks. ‘I’m sorry, Bella, really I am, but that’s bullshit. What a selfish fuck.’
The waiter brings over our food, and we eat for a few minutes, pondering what part of this situation needs the most attention, which man deserves our fading, drunken energy. Anna wants to talk about Jon. I want to talk about Jon, but I need to talk about Christian.
‘I would’ve died to talk to him a year ago. Nine months ago, maybe even six months ago. I still have nightmares, Anna, I still wake up sometimes expecting him to be the one in bed with me. I know what happened is fucked up, but I still think somewhere that he really wanted to be with me and just didn’t know how to get out of getting married.’ She shakes her head no as I drink the last of the bottle and I shake my head back. ‘I know you don’t agree, I don’t even know if I agree. But I should talk to him. I should find out what the fuck happened.’
‘You’re going to hurt yourself. Whatever you have to do, Bells, but you’re going to hurt yourself one way or the other.’ The waiter brings the other bottle of wine and while he’s pouring and diverting Anna’s attention, I text Christian under the table and ask him to meet me at the seaport in an hour. He immediately responds with an okay. I feel uneasy. But more than that, I feel drunk.
Anna and I sit and eat and finish the other bottle of wine, and I kiss her goodbye and tell her I’ll call her later, that I’m just
going to walk for a little and think. She knows I’m full of shit, but she lets me go anyway. ‘You be careful,’ she says, before squeezing my hand and walking off. I head for the subway.
. . .
It’s almost eight by the time I get there, and it’s a warm night, a little muggy, a little breezy, but perfect for being on the river. I’m standing at the railing staring at Jersey City when I feel someone’s hand move along my lower back. I see Christian move up next to me. He’s looking at the city too at first, then he turns his head to face me.
‘I’m drunk,’ I say. He laughs.
‘Me too.’ He puts his hand on my cheek and runs his finger up and down for a moment before pulling back. ‘I was at Limerick with the guys. Wing night,’ he mumbles.
‘Fucking meat eaters,’ I laugh.
We stand there for a few minutes, staring across the water, silent, before he speaks.
‘So why’d you wanna meet, Bells? What changed your mind?’ I feel his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers running up into my hair. I have chills all over my body.
‘I had questions,’ I hoarsely say, ‘but I don’t know what they were anymore, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know the answers right now anyway.’ He puts his head down, then moves his hand out of my hair and down to my hand. He squeezes.
‘Okay. How bout we don’t ask any questions tonight? How bout we just walk for a while?’ He takes my hand and pulls me away from the railing. And we walk, a right here, a left there, a few blocks uptown, a few blocks across, not speaking, just walking, hand in hand, for what seems like hours.
As I’m about to step off a corner into the street, Christian pulls me back because of oncoming traffic and as he does, I look up and see it – that glowing Manhattan hotel, the one that Christian and I went to that first night. I look over at him, and he sees it too. He turns to me and our eyes lock and I know that he’s about to spend another four hundred dollars just to feel me on his dick and hear me say his name. He smirks at me as he pulls me across the street, and I press my tits against his back again as we go through the door.
While I stand there waiting for him to get us a room, I am aware of how different this feels from the last time, but I can’t exactly say how or why. He puts his arms around my waist as he guides me towards the elevator and once we’re inside, he turns me towards him and presses me against the wall with a hand. He stares at me, first in my eyes, then my mouth, then my shoulders and chest, my stomach, my hips, then back up to my eyes. I blink slowly. He puts his hand in my hair and pulls me towards him and kisses me once while looking me in the eye. I breathe him in, reveling in the heat of his hand on my head, the soft pressure of his lips on mine, the strong pressure of his muscle up against my softer body.
The elevator opens but he stands there for just a second more looking me in the eye. Then he backs up, taking both of my hands in his, pulling me away from the wall and down the hallway to the room. He opens the door, guides me in, and leans himself against it as he closes it. I walk, not turning to face him, to the leather chair in the corner of the room where I sit down, lean back and run my fingers through my hair. He watches me, then speaks.
‘Come here.’ His voice is husky with ideas of sex. I tilt my head and look at him.
‘No,’ I say. ‘You come here.’ He considers this for a moment, then slowly pushes himself away from the door and across the room. By the time he’s standing in front of me, I can see his dick pushing at his jeans. I stand up very close to him and turn him around by guiding him with my body until he’s in front of the chair. I raise my right hand and push him down into it and he leans himself back and rests his arms on the sides. I glance out the window and smile, how amusing to think someone might be watching this. I leave the curtains open, my body lit up from behind by the light near the door and from the front by the glow of the city outside.
I take my hands and push my long hair behind my shoulders and out of my face. As I begin to unbutton my pants, Christian shifts slightly in the chair, settling deeper into it, breathing a little heavier. I unzip them and shift my hips until they fall to the floor, my black lace underwear showing off my hips and, from behind, my ass. I pinch at the edge of the bottom of my shirt and slowly I begin to lift. I see Christian shift in the chair again and I stop. His hands are gripping the arm rests but he’s trying to look relaxed.
‘You can touch me,’ I whisper.
‘Not yet,’ he whispers back and I hear him exhale. I half smile in the half dark and continue lifting up my shirt until it comes up and over my head, my long hair messy around my face. I throw my shirt behind me and go to take my heels off.
‘Leave them,’ he says, and I stop. I can see, even in the shadows, him looking at every square inch of my body. I must look very different to him now, still curvy in all the right places, but thinner, hints of a ribcage, my hipbones. Not thin, but more fit, more toned. He sits there, looking me up and down for what feels like forever. A year ago, I would have shifted uncomfortably at this, but now, after all I’d been through, I stand there, arms hanging at my sides, hands caressing the top of my thighs, my inner thighs, around my pussy, my ass and hips and stomach. I bring them up to my tits, still round and curvy, their fullness accentuated by the black lace bra holding them.
Again I push my hair back and I see Christian glance up at me, his lips slightly parted, his tongue sliding across his lips. He reaches one hand towards me and with one finger, he traces the right side of my body, from breast to ribs to waist to hip to thigh. I shiver at the sensation and I know he feels it. He pauses for a second before taking his finger and hooking it into my underwear at my cunt and pulling me gently forward. He brings his face forward and while his mouth and tongue start loving my stomach, his hands run themselves up my sides and behind my back to unhook my bra. He slowly pulls the straps down and away from me and once it’s off, his tongue and lips and teeth are at my nipples, playing, pulling, teasing. My breath shallows, I put my fingers on his head, his short hair tickling my palms. He pulls me into him and for a moment, I think he’s just breathing me in.
Alma
- 17.05.2022
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