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Lunch at Jim’s, Greg and his wife


Lunch time at Jim’s house. Victorian living room, chic Italian furniture, huge crystal chandeliers, and curious glances of fat exotic fishes from giant aquariums. Pompously classic, dark, and heavy like everything about Jim. I knew Greg was coming with his Emy to join the vanity fair and talk money with the big boss. Obviously, the only person that should have fun is be myself. Unlike Greg, I neither work for Jim nor lose his money.
It was a weird feeling to sit at table with the man of my dreams and his wife. I straightened my back, demonstrating the nakedness of shapely shoulders, and defined arms. Daily boy-pushups, weightlifting, vegan diet, and I proudly showed the sculpted body, petit breasts, and poking out nipples. I felt a hundred percent in a 15-dollar-made-in-India-strapless-beach-dress. Emy was desperately trying to hide her fats in Chanel, and I politely complimented on her style. She gave me a tired and thankful smile. She truly considered myself a friend, and I sincerely felt sorry for her attempts to overlook the evident and save the illusion of the happy marriage.
I sensed the fakeness in the air. Fake smile, fake courtesy, fake friendliness, fake concerns, and fake care. Greg and Jim’s money talking, and my infatuation with Greg were the only real things in this whole lunch charade. 
I stood up and excused myself casting a glance at Greg. Our eyes met, I smiled and hastily left the room feeling Jim’s intense look with my back. I was bored; watching the three of them eat dead animals was no fun.  
Greg left the living room a minute after.
          Where is his bathroom? – Dispassionate voice, cool emotionless politeness, and inexpressive bull terrier look.  
          Down the hall and to the left
          Show me
Feeling his presence was awesome. He quietly followed me, I quietly stopped at the bathroom door and looked into his eyes. He quickly grabbed my arm and forced me inside practically shoving me against the bathroom sink. I turned around and saw both of us in the bathroom mirror. I am small and anemic, Greg is big and detached. I heard him unzip his pants; my eyes shifted to neatly rolled towels in a bucket. He hurriedly entered me from behind as I was studying the palm towel pattern, the only sane thing I could do in this situation. His dick was huge and awesome. He was simply awesome, rude, insane, and awesome. Very warm, very wild, and very quiet. He quietly came, I quietly wiped myself down and adjusted the dress
          My wife likes you, Vixen  
          Won’t you be in trouble for having sex with me?
          Honey, you have no idea how much money I made for him this quarter. He would not give a shit even if you were his wife.
          Will you help me set up a fish tank for Lukas? His birthday is next week.
          I remember my son’s birthday, Vixen; will send the technician to your apartment this weekend.
          Thank you
          I want you to dump this idiot
          I want a dessert

 
I came back and apologized with a smile. Emy smiled back, Jim was busy on his phone. A minute later Greg showed up and gave Emy a hug. The dessert was yummy, vegan, and chocolate. I was alive, warm, and happy.

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