and she knew… she knew she had me. I played it off like an idiot – whatever the fuck you want to call it. I tried to play it cool; she wasn’t having it. She reeled me in and I jumped on the hook, not realizing what this catch was going to do to my life.
I reached into the lower drawer and removed a small silk handkerchief she had left with me along with the goodbye note. I tossed the envelope onto my desk and grabbed the handkerchief, inhaling it deeply. The scent, or more importantly, HER scent still lingered even after all these years. Every part of me still aches for her…
I still remember the first time she let me see her tits; I mean they were perfect. I licked and sucked them like I had never tasted anything so delicious in my life. The first time I fingered her, pushing those sweet little legs apart with my hands. Her eyes said no, but she spread them anyway, her body saying, Yes! Yes! I still remember her excited gasp of pleasure. The look that made my cock ache every time she looked at me – it was innocence personified. Even after I lifted my wet fingers and slid them in her mouth – we both knew how badly we wanted to fuck. It wasn’t going to be gentle, it wasn’t going to be nice, we were going to tear each other apart in bed – it was only a matter of time, and it would be kinetic.
We collided and exploded all over each other, neither of us had ever experienced that kind of fucking, that kind of lover before. She was an atomic bomb on legs. If there’s a moment when I look back with regret, it was not the fact that I had let myself be caught by her, by THE woman. It was the fact that I let her walk out of my life, and I stood there like an idiot thinking that everything would be okay after she left.
I leaned back in the chair, crossed my hands behind my head, and looked out over the city. Genevieve… I looked at her picture that still sat on the corner of my desk; her and my dad smiled back. She was going to be the one I settled on, that I married and had kids with someday. I reached over and tossed the goodbye note back in the bottom drawer; no sense in reliving that shit.
I leaned forward and drummed my fingers on the desk. That had been years ago; I was now a senior manager at my father’s company and she was a famous fashion model that graced the covers of Vogue, Cosmopolitan, InStyle - the list was endless. Everywhere I turned, she was there. She had found her success after she had left me, it was what she had always wanted, and I was left with little choice but to follow in my father’s footsteps, being his only child.
I was the heir apparent to Cain Enterprises. Sadly, we both escaped into our lives and drifted apart to the point where we were down to exchanging greeting cards and the occasional email; it was pathetic really. Then, out of the fucking blue, I get an email from her last week that she’d be in town for a photo shoot for Vogue and wanted to have lunch to catch up on old times.
I lifted the silk handkerchief to my face one more time and inhaled deeply before sliding it back into the bottom drawer. I wrote her back nonchalantly that things were pretty hectic at the company but sure, we could get together for lunch or dinner, and did she want me to get her from the airport? And that’s how it all started again, the story picked up where it had left off. I thought it was ironic that just then, I noticed the music playing from my secretary’s desk, Damian Schuler – “Rocket Baby.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the lyrics.
But I’m in so deep beyond the edge, going to ride you rocket baby
Step off the cliff, arms outstretched going to ride you rocket baby.
An E ticket ride to the other side, going to ride you rocket baby.
“Man, I was totally off in la la land,” I said to myself. Running my fingers through my hair, I looked down at my Diesel Watch – Shit!…her plane is going to be landing in an hour; better head