Jeff Thousandaire Ch. 01

A minute later, Sheldon came into my office, Melody following him obediently before circling around to stand behind my chair. Sheldon settled himself into a wing chair and crossed his legs casually. "You visited the property yesterday?" He asked sternly.

"Yes, sir," I nodded. No way was I going to call him 'Teddy'.

"Good. Report," he ordered. So we did.

***

Knocking on glass has a distinctly different tone than knocking on wood or metal, and it is a thoroughly alien-sounding noise. So that hollow ringing got my attention easily, and I looked up to my door.

Melody had stepped into my office. "I'm stepping out for lunch. Would you like anything?"

Automatically, I fished into my wallet and pulled out a twenty. "Yeah, can you pick me up a sandwich on your way back?"

She nodded professionally, took the money, and then headed out without another word. She didn't invite me to join her for lunch. She didn't want to talk about how we felt last night. She just settled back into our usual roles.

I sighed... back to normal. Melody wasn't my girlfriend. She worked for me, and we had fun on the side, but that was it. She didn't want any attachments and I had to accept it.

***

It was just an ordinary day the second time I saw her.

I stopped by my usual smoothie shop. To be honest, on this day, I didn't even feel like a smoothie. But maybe... just maybe... she would be here again. I'd wracked my brain trying to remember what time she'd been here and for the past few weeks, I'd specifically timed my arrivals in the hopes of running into her.

I didn't know what I would do if I actually saw her. What would I say?

But it didn't matter. She was never there. Not for weeks and not today.

And so on this day, I exited the shop with smoothie in hand. I sighed. Sure, I liked the flavor and I probably would at least finish it, but I looked at the styrofoam cup in disgust.

Why was I coming here if I didn't even want the damn thing? What kind of obsessive moron goes to a smoothie shop repeatedly trying to get a glimpse of a girl he doesn't even know? Wasn't Taylor obsessive fantasy woman enough for me?

I looked up and saw a happy young couple holding hands as they walked down the street. Every now and again they would glance at each other, just little looks as if they couldn't bear to go more than a few seconds without seeing the face of the one they loved.

I felt a wrench in the pit of my stomach as I looked at them, and a green ooze of jealousy spread through the rest of my lower body. I pinched my forehead and tried to will the feelings away. I'd made my decision long ago: career came first.

It was because I studied so hard in school that I graduated at the top of my class and got a job at one of the most prestigious architectural firms in the country. So what if my long study hours meant I couldn't hold onto a girlfriend for more than a month? So what if that made my fantasies of Taylor Brynn the longest-term female influence in my life?

In the end, I had risen through the ranks faster than anyone and I'd now landed the biggest residential project of the year at the tender age of 25. My career had come first and it had brought me right to my Taylor. It was a validation of everything I had ever hoped for.

I'd always known, felt deep in my gut, that career success would lead me to my wife-to-be and family and all the other hallmarks of a good life. And yet, I knew that Taylor would not be for me. She'd already found a better deal. For all my success so far, it wasn't good enough. Not yet, at least. Not in comparison to John Billionaire.

And there was Melody, beautiful in her own right and yet so cold. Every now and again I would see glimmers of a sweet girl hidden beneath the aloof fuck-buddy she tried to play. Compared with a goddess like Taylor Brynn, Melody was more on my level. She was... attainable... for lack of a better word. But it seemed like she didn't want me. And to be honest, while I thought it would be "nice" to be with her, I wasn't completely sure I really wanted to be with Melody for the long run.

And then there was... HER. I didn't even know a thing about the mystery blonde save for her name. What was so special about her? What made her so different from a thousand other pretty women walking the streets of Manhattan every day? Why the hell couldn't I get her out of my head?

As if on cue, SHE stepped out of the store not twenty feet front of me and turned to walk away.

She was perfect. I'd only ever seen her the one time, but her face was etched into memory. All breath left my body as I saw that face come into view and the morning light caught her emerald green eyes, making them shimmer briefly before she turned away from me. Lightning bolts shot up and down my spine.

Today she wore another pair of spray-on designer jeans and a long-sleeved maroon top that hugged her torso all the way down past her hips, looking rather more like a dress with a really short-skirt. And then I saw the Starbucks cup in her hand. I stared down at my own styrofoam smoothie cup and thought of the dozens of times I'd already continued coming to the smoothie shop in a futile attempt to see her.

I opened my mouth to call her name... but nothing came out.

It caught in my throat, and belatedly realized that I'd been holding my breath ever since she walked out. I started getting dizzy and my body screamed for oxygen and I had to stop in my tracks and suck in huge lungfuls of air while hunched over with my hands on my knees. And when I finally could stand up straight, I looked out and she was gone. Lost in the crowd.

I sighed, "Kaitlyn..."

***

-- KAITLYN --

"Kaitlyn..."

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned around. My name had fluttered on the wind so softly that I wasn't even sure I actually heard it. I quickly scanned the crowd around me, looking for a familiar face, but none came.

I tried to place the voice, but it was such a whispery sound that I couldn't tell if it was male or female, let alone the specific person.

Dismissing it as a figment of my imagination, I shook my head and then turned to continue walking towards the campus. I checked my watch to make sure I had enough time to get there.

But for some reason, I had a craving for a smoothie. Very rarely did I ever want a smoothie; I was almost always a coffee person. In fact, I hadn't had a smoothie since... that guy... The one with "the look".

I stared down at my coffee cup and briefly thought that if I'd just gotten that smoothie today, maybe he would have been there.

Yeah, right.

Rolling my eyes to myself, I hunkered down and sped up my walk. Time to get to class.

***

-- JEFFREY --

"Jeffie, Taylor on Line 1," Melody's voice came through the speakerphone.

Melody herself looked at me through the plate glass wall separating my office from her desk. She had an odd look in her eye, as if she was studying my reaction. I simply nodded and picked up the headset, hooking it over my ear. "Taylor! It's great to hear from you."

"Jeffrey! How are you? I had a wonderful time the other day last week." Taylor's voice was pure honey.

"I did too. I can't wait to see what everything looks like when it's finished."

"You think YOU can't wait?" Taylor laughed, a delightful sound that set my heart atwitter. Even after all the time that had passed since her first call to me, I still couldn't believe I was chatting with the goddess of my dreams.

"Anyways," Taylor continued. "This is actually a social call."

"Oh?"

"Well you see, there's this charity event I'm going to on Friday, and I've just been left without a date. Johnny had to fly out to London to deal with some financial crisis-whatever that's interfering with one of his deals."

"Friday? As in... tomorrow?"

"Right, right. So I was wondering if you would be interested in escorting me."

"Me?"

"Of course you, Jeffrey. What, would you be ashamed to be seen publicly with such an old hag?"

"There you go with the 'old woman' business," I rolled my eyes. "You're only three years older, and you LOOK three years younger than me. You are the most beautiful woman in New York and you know it."

Taylor giggled. "Well, with you by my side to remind me, I'm sure I'll feel much better about my age. So will you come?"

I shook my head, still in disbelief at the turns my life was taking. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

***

*FRIDAY*

For the fifth time, I looked over the exact same window on the second floor, west wing. Realizing I had done so, I pinched my eyes shut and rubbed my temples. It was absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to focus.

How could I focus? I was supposed to meet Taylor at her apartment in less than two hours. And as the clock ticked by on this Friday afternoon, I was running out of time. At least I was planning to come into the office over the weekend to catch up on work. Maybe I could focus better then.

Just then, Melody knocked and poked her head in. "You going to be here much longer? We're all heading to O'Brien's."

"Not much longer," I sighed and sat back in my chair.

"Okay, so I'll see you down there in a bit?"

I sat up straight. "Uh, no. I've got other plans tonight. I'll see you next week."

"Plans?" Melody stepped into my office and closed the door behind her. "You're not coming to the pub?"

"No. I'm escorting Taylor at this charity function. Her fiancé is in London."

"Taylor... I see..." Melody crossed her arms and pouted. "I mean, I guess so. I'm not trying to tell you what you can or can't do or anything. I just thought you'd want to spend more time with me."

"Mel..." I HATED it when she got all passive-aggressive.

"Oh, no. It's no problem. I'm sure you were going to tell me. I *know* how busy work has been. It must have slipped your mind."

"Mel. Stop it." I wasn't going to play her game.

The pretty blonde ground her teeth together for a little while and then glared at me. "You should have told me, Jeffie. What if I'd made plans for us tonight?" Melody looked really angry.

"Huh? You never make plans. If you want to screw, you usually just grab me and do it."

"Well, what if I want to screw tonight?" Melody jutted her hip out to the side with on hand firmly planted on it. Between that and the annoyed expression on her face, she looked like a petulant teenager who wasn't getting her way.

I frowned in mild annoyance of my own. Melody didn't own me. "I made plans. Sorry."

"Plans, huh? You gonna fuck her?" Melody spat with vehemence.

Where was this anger coming from? "Hey! Who said anything about fucking? It's a charity thing!"

Melody didn't respond, instead just turning away from me in a huff as she started pacing around the room. She crossed her arms over her chest, set her jaw, and glared at nothing in particular as she completed a full circuit around my desk. I swore I could SEE the cogs in her brain spinning.

Abruptly, Melody stopped and turned to face me with a touch of green in her eyes. "But if Taylor DID come on to you, would you fuck her?"

I was taken aback by her bluntness. "What business is that of yours? You're not my girlfriend, Mel. You made that point VERY clear a couple of nights ago. And did I say anything when you seduced that intern in the mail room right in front of me?"

"FINE," Melody threw her hands up and turned around, heading for my door. "Fuck her, don't fuck her, I don't care."

"Mel..." I pleaded, half in annoyance. I didn't want her leaving in a huff.

"No, no. You're right, you're right" she said before turning around and facing me. "We're just friends. You're my boss. I have no right to be jealous."

But she WAS jealous, and getting passive-aggressive again.

"Nothing's going to happen," I tried to assure her.

"Whatever," she tossed her hands, and then grabbed the door handle. "I'll see you Monday."

***

I stood in front of the mirror, checking out my hair for the fifteenth time. Nervously, I bounced on the balls of my feet and tried to shake out the tension in my arms. I checked my watch once again.

Still an hour to go. I swore the stupid clock was moving BACKWARDS.

I looked in the mirror again. My hair was fine, but there were beads of sweat starting to form at my hairline. My lower jaw quivered, and my hands were starting to get clammy.

This was not good.

I was too tense. I was too on edge. I had to relieve the pressure.

Fortunately, I had the time. Sighing heavily, I crossed the room to my home computer, sitting down and unzipping my pants. Then I grabbed the mouse and started clicking through a familiar set of folders.

Taylor had first started modeling at eighteen. But while popular, she didn't do very much work until after she graduated from college. Even after, she was never a superstar like the Gisele's or Tyra's of the world. Most people would recognize her name if they heard it; but few would call her name to mind if asked about famous models. At least until she'd gotten engaged to Jonathan Kwong.

But me? I'd thought Taylor was the most beautiful woman on the planet. And with her relatively limited fan base, I felt special, unique. Let other men lust after the latest Victoria's Secret regular. I had my Taylor.

I was quite good at manipulating the mouse with my left hand, freeing up my right for more important tasks. And as shot after shot of Taylor's brilliant eyes and abundant cleavage flashed by, I finally found my release.

Once I wadded up the tissue and tossed it into the basket, I sighed happily and felt much more relaxed. This time, when I checked myself in the mirror, all the tension was gone.

I straightened out my clothes and shot the cuffs of my jacket. NOW I was ready.

***

"Good evening. How may I be of service?"

I nodded to the distinguished elderly butler. "I'm Jeff Lee. I know I'm early but I'm meeting Taylor."

"Of course, sir. May I take your jacket?" The butler led me into the living room and took my jacket away. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you," I waved him off.

"Very well." He gave me an odd look and then cleared his throat. "Ring if you need anything. You are free to look around. Miss Taylor said that you might appreciate some of the architecture of the home."

I thanked him and nodded, my gaze already sweeping up to the ceiling cross beams, elegant columns, and other decorating details. Already in one of the premier buildings on 5th Avenue, the future Kwongs had the penthouse and their apartment took up nearly half the entire floor. From the looks of things, no expense had been spared in the furnishing and Jonathan and Taylor had selected a place with beautiful architectural lines.

I checked my watch, realizing that I was more than a half-hour early. So once I'd finished with my circuit of the living room, I hesitantly started down the hallway. Permission or not, I felt just a little guilty about roaming the Kwong apartment. But as I crossed to the formal dining room, I saw the butler chatting with a woman in the kitchen, probably the cook. They saw me scanning the beams and just smiled and nodded as I continued my self-tour.

Eventually, I got back to the main hallway. There were a set of rooms, probably guest rooms, down in one direction. The other way there was a set of double- doors which most likely would lead to the Master Suite. My breath caught just then.

Somewhere behind the doors would be Taylor herself, possibly in some varied state of undress as she prepared for the night out. Without conscious thought, my feet moved me closer and closer until I realized that the doors themselves were slightly open. I hadn't meant to approach so close, and just when I was about to come to my senses, I heard a fluttering, female moan. "Ohhh Jeffrey... fuck me..."

My eyes went wide when I heard Taylor's voice. And she even continued, "Fuck me... fuck me..."

I couldn't help it. Silently, I went to the door and gingerly pushed it open. Soon, I found myself in what amounted to a private lounge, complete with fireplace and a ginormous TV. I blinked twice, and then the moans continued to waft through the air from an open door at the far end. "Oh, Jeffrey. Deeper! Harder!"

Was she actually masturbating over me? It wasn't possible. Sure, I'd masturbated over fantasies of Taylor since I was fifteen. I'd just done so not twenty minutes earlier. But there was no way SHE could be doing the same over me, right?

With a tingle running down my spine, I glanced back to see if anyone had caught me, and then I padded forward as quietly as possible to the open doorway. I heard the rhythmic noise of a mattress compressing while someone bounced on it, seriously naughty visions popping into mind. For a brief second, I let myself imagine what it would be like to lay on top of Taylor, thrusting away to my heart's content.

As I approached, the sounds got louder and I knew that whatever was going on, it was going on right in the next room. So when I got to the doorjamb, I hid myself behind the wall and ever so slowly, leaned my head over until I could see.

Taylor Brynn, supermodel, dark-haired beauty, and fiancée of one of the richest men in the world, was fully nude and lying on her back across a large four poster bed. Her limbs flailed out in every direction, but all I could see at the moment was that her legs were spread wide, her glistening pink pussy pointed in my direction, completely hairless. And then that pussy was removed from view as a brunette head eclipsed it, a pink tongue lolling out as Charlotte went back to tonguing her employer's clit.

Meanwhile, Charlotte pushed a thick black dildo in between Taylor's gaping pussy lips, and then Taylor started up her "fuck me, Jeffrey" moaning once again.

I was so overwhelmed I nearly creamed my shorts right then and there. It was her. It was HER. She was fucking NAKED. And she was fantasizing about fucking ME.

I couldn't handle it. My brain went into lockup and I did the only thing I could.

I ran away.

Now I didn't run screaming out of the room or anything like that. I quietly hurried back through the private lounge and out in the hallway, not daring to breathe until I was certain I hadn't been caught. And then as soon as I got my breathing under control, I steeled my nerves and calmly walked back into the living room, sitting down on a sofa and smoothening out my slacks.

Well, I may have wiped my sweaty hands on the sofa cushions, but I was pretty dignified for getting the shock of my life. And then there was nothing left for me to do but remember the view that was now seared into my brain.

Taylor's nude form was just as wondrous as her Maxim or lingerie shoots had promised. While she lay flat on her back, her tits were large, not huge, and still quite firm, sagging only slightly to the sides. The nipples were hard cones poking towards the vaulted ceiling and a cherry color that begged for a willing pair of lips. Her tummy was taut and lightly muscled, especially as she tensed her abs amidst her pleasure. A narrow waist tapered out only slightly to her hips. And with her legs spread wide, I could see that even her thighs were well-toned and absent of any cellulite.

I had caught only a brief flash of her pretty pussy, her inner flesh a brilliant pink and seemingly coated in fresh lubrication as it reflected the light like a diamond. Oh, to taste such a rare fruit...

A sharp sound caught my attention and my eyes snapped open while my jaw snapped shut. I sat up in surprise and turned around just as the butler's other heel came into position, stomping against the hardwood floor.

"My apologies, sir. I didn't mean to startle you. Miss Taylor sends her apologies, she lost track of the time and she will be fashionably late. Are you sure I can't interest you in a drink?"

My throat dry, I gurgled, "Vodka tonic. Uh, strong, please. And, uh, what's your name?"