“Mr. Conner is anxious to see you,” the driver said as he opened the door. The way his eyes swept up and down her body rather blatantly let Aisha know she had indeed chosen the right dress. She got into the limousine and couldn’t help but smile when she saw a dozen roses waiting for her. She took the bouquet in her hands and sniffed it. Then she saw the bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and poured herself a glass.
The limo moved slowly through the city and then finally pulled into an underground parking garage under a massive, sleek skyscraper. The driver opened her door and offered his hand. She took it and got out.
“Right into there,” the man said, pointing to an elevator that sat across from a whole bank of them. “The code is five, three, two, three.”
Aisha didn’t have any idea what he was talking about, and she didn’t have any idea why there was a single elevator across from the rest of them. There was a sign next to it that said private, and as she stepped inside, she wondered if Anthony was so rich that he really owned his own elevator. There was just one button inside the elevator, and she pressed it. When she did so, a small screen above the button awoke, shining a soft blue. It was a touch screen, and it showed a set of numbers, zero through nine. She typed in the code the driver had told her, and then the door shut and the elevator moved up.
It rose for a long while, and Aisha wondered what floor her boss lived on. Finally, the elevator stopped, and with a ding the door opened. In front of Aisha was a long hallway, lit by lights that ran down either side of the hall. At the end of the hall was a door, and as Aisha made her way toward it, it opened, and Anthony stood in the doorway.
“Wow,” he said, and she would have said the same. He was dressed in a tailored suit, which wasn’t rare for him, but there was just something about him tonight, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
When she reached him, they embraced and kissed, and then he gave her a tour.
His apartment was massive, mostly open space. One corner had a kitchen and another had a walled-off bath with a glass-walled stone shower and a hot tub kitty-corner to it. In the middle of the floor space was a living room, and in another corner was his bedroom. She could have fit four of her apartments in his and maybe even have some space leftover.
The dining room took up the remainder of the open apartment, with a long table made of dark wood. Candles burned on the table, and the rest of the apartment was dimly lit. Two places had been set, one at the end of the table and the other at the chair directly to the left of that. She sat there, Anthony pulling her chair out for her, and he sat at the end of the table. An older woman, named Mary, came out of the kitchen and served them. She was Anthony’s private cook, and Aisha wondered if she worked there every day or only on special occasions. Something told her it was every day.
Mary was a hell of a cook, and the meal was one of the best she ever had. After dinner, she was full and a bit drunk, since they had made their way through a couple bottles of wine. Mary was excused after clearing the table, and she left through the front door.
“You have a cook,” Aisha said.
“In fairness, she doesn’t usually serve me like that. I paid her extra.”
Aisha laughed. “I don’t even understand this lifestyle,” she said.
“I work hard for it,” Anthony said. He sounded a bit defensive.
“I’m not making fun of you,” Aisha said, putting her hand on his. “It’s amazing.”
Anthony leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. “You’re amazing.”
Aisha smiled, and they kissed some more.
Soon they were rising from the table, their hands exploring each other’s bodies, and her dress, so carefully picked out, was lifted over her head and dropped to the floor. She wore no underwear, something Anthony appreciated as he groped at her breasts with both hands. They kissed and fondled each other as they made their way to his king-sized bed in the corner of the apartment. He pushed her back on the bed and began unbuttoning his own shirt, but Aisha sat up and ripped it open, sending the buttons flying. She bit her lip and grinned up at him. Her fingers went to his zipper, pulling it down, and then she slid a hand inside his fly, pulling his cock out through the flap without taking off his pants.
She gripped him tightly and began jerking him, sliding her hand back and forth.
“Suck my cock,” he said, his voice husky and breathless.
“Shut the fuck up,” Aisha said, and then she pushed him away and stood in front of him. She pulled his ruined shirt from his shoulders after undoing his tie. “Turn around,” she demanded, and he did so. She was completely in charge, and he wasn’t fighting her on that point. She took his tie and slipped it over his head, resting it across his eyes before tightening it so it would stay and function as a blindfold. She reached down and undid the button on his pants, and then she bent slowly, planting kisses down his back while she lowered them. When he was nude, she guided him to lie on the bed, and after he did, he reached for her, but she stepped away.