SHALLOW DEPTHS

Untitled Part 14

      I thought breakfast was great, his friends were chatty and lively, they told stories of his childhood and parts of his life he never told me. The croissants were nicely made, there were berries and hot chocolate, and a lady in a white mermaid skirt was going on about waltz and tango dancing. I could tell from the look on Cyril's face that he liked the idea, as he winked at me and signaled to the orchestra.

The orchestra started playing, and a singer in a dark sequined dress started singing the classic song of romantic yearning, ''At Last'' by Etta James.

He held my hand and led me to the dance floor, pausing halfway to call me beautiful. He spun me around, causing my hair to sway. The sensation of his fingers intertwined with mine held me more firmly than anything. The electricity of his touch was a hot current I couldn't get enough of. He pulled me closer to his body in a manner that caused a tension of longing to build inside me. All the hearts in the world would be too few to carry what I felt him, he made me feel special.

I felt his muscles move, as his body swayed against mine, leading me in the rhythm. I lost all sense of time amidst the sensuality of his body, he had a mastery over me. There was a scorching passion about the song, I could feel the stares, hear the whispers. There was another round of applauds as he pulled me closer without a sliver of space between us and landed a soft kiss on my forehead.

It was noon already and most of the guests had left the hotel to go prepare for the dinner party, Cyril was preoccupied with calls and making sure his guests had no trouble locating the venue. I poured myself a glass of wine and made my way to the elevator and down to the hotel's art gallery, smiling and nodding as I went.

''Ziggy Lora, Oh my God!'', I heard a voice behind me.

''You look amazing''. I turned around and caught the beautiful figure of Adunni at the far end of the grand hall. She was waving a purse and walking arms wide open as if to hug me, her smile was warm.

''hey darling!'', she shrieked, throwing an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to peck me on the cheek. I smiled back, looking around, she had such a vibrant energy, and one would think us best friends. She wore a beige satin wrap top over a pair of high-waist, wide-legged pants. And her faux leather pumps were everything.

''Are those Louboutins?'' I asked, trying not to sound too impressed.

''Oh! They are Jimmy Choo's'' she giggled. I assumed she was rich and spoilt when I caught the scent of the Christian Dior Ambre Nuit Cologne she was wearing. I was going to be like her, rich and spoilt.

We talked for hours, laughing about everything. I was on my third glass of wine, she had just ordered her second bottle. She shared stories about her sexual adventures with women and her terrible ordeals with men, there was a method to the way she told stories of her sex life that made me feel like I wasn't having sex to my full potentials.

''Even if the champagne came with caviar, the sight wouldn't compare to you'', Cyril interrupted, startling us in the process. He had a sexy smirk on his face, he leaned forward to flirt with my hair, and while he was admiring me, she couldn't take her eyes off him.

''It is almost time for the dinner party'', he continued, taking his gaze from me to Adunni.

''And who is your friend?''

''Adunni Iliya'', I found my voice, looking at Adunni who already had her hand extended. When did she finish that bottle of wine, I thought to myself.

''Cyril, Cyril West'', Cyril grinned.

Maybe I had one too many glasses, but I could have sworn I saw lust and desire in her eyes, it made me feel uneasy.

''Baby can you help me pick an outfit?'' I blurted, holding his arm and signalling to her to be excused.

Our ride would be here in ten minutes, in case you would love to join us, he said coolly, his sensual lips curved into a smile.

I reached for my batwing blouse in the wardrobe and froze halfway as I felt his closeness, the scent of his cologne filled the air. And when he spoke, I could hear the marijuana in his voice.

''I want you, no one else'', he whispered, guiding his hands up my thighs, his breathe hot on my neck. And even though it was familiar, my skin sizzled at his touch.

''I want you, badly too'', he continued, using his legs to part mine from behind, I felt his hand warm on my butt, and in a gingerly manner, he bent me on the dresser, I knew he was down the path to an erotic beginning, I felt myself moisten at the thought. He ran his fingers down my back in a lustful manner, pausing only to fix his thumb on my butt hole and four fingers above my hips as if to keep me firm. I felt the hot sweat of his skin, heard the quick pant of his breath. I turned to face him, craving, yearning for him deep in me.

His eyes were fixed as he slid in, slow, as if to tease, tempting me, making me plead wordlessly for release. Each thrust came with a rush of its own.

For the next hour he tortured me with pleasure, changing positions, showing me how to find my own rhythm, to control the pace and intensity of his thrust. He tipped my back onto the bed and lifted my leg over his shoulder for the third time, he tasted my neckline with his tongue, played me with his skilled fingers, made me writhe....made me beg.

And every time I would start to tense and feel the deep shake coming from within, he would push in deeper until I was nearly weeping with the frustration of desire.

He was like a drug, one I was going to overdose on.

The intercom rang for the millionth time, the driver had left, we were both late for his dinner party.