When You Hold Me

I liked having Reagan in my office. This was her first time and she looked so out of place with her white shoes and baseball cap on her head but I liked it. It was a complete 180 from what she wore a few days ago. I still got a look at her ample legs in those cotton shorts and I have to say seeing them in person is way better than seeing them everyday on my wall. “Where you would suggest I put it? In my home?”

“Anywhere but where a whole bunch of...business people would see it.” She continued to stare at the portrait.

My eyebrows lifted at her statement. “I did purchase this from an auction where a lot of those business people attended, if you have forgotten.” That’s when she tore her eyes away from the photo and looked at me.

“You know what I mean.” And then her eyes was back on herself.

I smirked walking up behind her. Not too close but close enough where she could feel my presence. “No I can’t say that I do know what you mean.” She turned around to face me but seeing how close we were she took a step back almost hitting the wall. “It’s okay Reagan, no one’s really looking but me.”

I hear her mumble something under her breath. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” She takes one last look at the photo and looks at me. “I don’t care, do whatever you want with it.” She began to walk towards the door but before she could get it open it was opening from the other side and Roman ran into her.

“Whoa,” He caught her by the arms. He looked at Reagan and then to me and smirked that looked like the one similar to mines. “A friend of yours, Memphis?”

I was going to answer him but Reagan beat me to it. “Uh no, I was just leaving, excuse me.” She then pushed passed my brother and out the door. I looked at my brother as he walked further into my office, smirked still intact.

“Was that her?” He asked and I nodded as I walked back to my desk to retrieve my jacket. “Wow, the picture does not do her justice.” He whistle looking at the photo.

I shook my head and snorted. I already knew what he was thinking about her. My brother had a wild imagination and he was pretty gross when it came to sex. Male or Female he didn’t really care. Sometimes at the same time. I didn’t judge him too hard, it was his life and he could live it how he see fit. I mean if my father could accept then I guess I could too and my father was one of the manliest men I’ll probably ever know in my life and my whole family was in the mob. But no matter how gross Roman thoughts were about Reagan, I had already made up my mind, she was mine. So he couldn’t have her.

“She’s mine.” I say sternly, making sure he got the point because sometimes my brother didn’t really care.

“Does she knows that?” He asked as he followed me out the office and into the lobby. It was a rhetorical question, so I didn;t answer. But she would know, eventually.

--

Leaning my head on the back of the couch I closed my eyes, stifling a moan. I reached up to run my fingers through the girl's hair, whose mouth was currently taking in my dick. Holding her head I pushed it all the way down, back up, and down again so that I was fucking her face. Hearing her gag, I hit the back of her throat over and over again. I was close that I felt my balls tense up. Zara, that was her name, placed her hand on my leg and dug her nails in my thigh. That’s when I went stiff and came in her mouth, shooting my load in her throat making her swallow it. After I was sure she had swallowed it all I pulled her head back and watched as my cock fell from her lips.

“Jesus Memphis,” Zara, removed one of her hands from my thigh to wipe her mouth. “You could at least let me know when you’re about to come.” I saw the dazed look in her eyes and I could tell she didn’t completely hate it, she always swallowed my seed.

I cupped her cheek, “My bad, you were just so good.” I smiled down at her. I’ve known Zara for a long time and she’s a good friend of my family. So she knows about my lifestyle and I trusted her. We occasionally have sex whenever one of us have the need to but we’ve never been romantically attached to each other.

“Yeah whatever.” She smirked, giving my leg a light tap before standing up and walking to the kitchen. I leaned back into the couch and closed my eyes. “So I did the favor you asked me and looked into Reagan Benson for you.” She talked from the bathroom.

Zara was also a Private Investigator and worked mostly for the police. She usually did civil and fraud investigation but I had asked her to do a simple background check. “And?”

“She’s as mundane as it gets,” She came to sit next to me. “She works at an Art store as a floral designer, volunteers at the senior center on Tuesdays, she’s from Fort Smith, Arkansas, moved here a year or so ago, and been living with her roommate, Leonardo Soraria. But that’s about it.”

“Did you get her work schedule?” I asked already knowing the answer.

But she scoffed. “You know Memphis, this is borderline stalking,” She said. “But yes I did.” I knew she would.

Zara didn’t ask me too many questions about my interest in Reagan after I left her house and on Monday I had visited Leonardo to, of course, talk about his roommate. We met at his art studio and he was more than willing to show me some of her art work. She was good. The following Tuesday, I took a trip to Edgy Crafts. Walking into the store I was greeted with a ‘Welcome’ but my attention was set on the floral section. Making my way towards the back, I seen her messing with a vase of flowers. She was really into it, focused. I almost didn’t want to disturb her. Almost.

“Its looking good.” I whispered as I walked up behind her. I could tell she was a little startled by the way she tensed up. But she turned around to face me anyways.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she registered in her brain that it was me. “Memphis Pierce?” She questioned.

“In the flesh.” I smiled but I could tell she was still confused.