Aztec Gold Read online

  It was a Friday night and I was sitting in a crowded wine bar with my friend, Amy, celebrating my recent redundancy with copious amounts of gin and tonic.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a tiny bit irresponsible to be splashing out on a new coat when you were told less than four hours ago that you were out of a job?’ suggested Amy tentatively.

  ‘Bugger responsible,’ I retorted, taking another swig from my glass. ‘I’m sick of nine to five, sick of being told what to do. It’s time I had some fun, took a few chances.’

  ‘But you won’t have any dosh to have fun with, once your redundancy money is gone,’ she pointed out.

  ‘There is that, I suppose,’ I shrugged. ‘But I’ll always have my lovely little collection of credit cards. Thank God for plastic, I say.’

  Amy sighed and I could see she’d decided to give up on me for the time being. Security has always been important to Amy. She’s been settled down and married to Bill, her childhood sweetheart, for six years now, with two bouncing little sprogs to show for it. Which is why she wasn’t joining me on the G&Ts. She was doing the driving tonight.

  ‘I’d better not stay much longer,’ she said, anxiously glancing at her watch. ‘I promised Bill I’d be home by seven.’

  ‘Bugger Bill. Live a little,’ I muttered, raising my glass in a gesture of defiance.

  ‘It’s not that simple,’ she replied. ‘I have to get back to look after the kids so Bill can go to his evening class.’

  ‘Right. Domestic bliss and all that. Let you out for the party tomorrow, will he?’

  ‘Of course. We aretwo separate people, you know. We’re not joined at the hip. Besides, being part of a couple can be –’

  ‘Wonderful,’ I grunted. ‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

  ‘You haven’t met the right bloke, that’s all,’ she continued doggedly. ‘You might meet someone at the party.’

  ‘Hmm. After the last man I dated, I’m not sure if I want to.’ And I recalled the appropriately named Dick who sent me flowers every Monday and professed his undying love for me while he screwed around behind my back with other women. I came home early from work one day to discover him rogering a gorgeous-looking brunette with twice the energy he’d ever put into our lovemaking. But what really pissed me off was that she was having what sounded like the biggest orgasm in the history of the universe.

  ‘Don’t forget it’s a fancy dress party,’ Amy reminded me, jolting me back to the present. ‘Vicars and tarts. So just wear your usual gear.’

  ‘Ha! Very original, Amy. You do, of course, mean my clerical gown and dog collar?’

  ‘Obviously.’ Giggling, she said, ‘Can I borrow your leather miniskirt? I don’t have anything remotely tarty to wear and –’

  ‘I have a whole wardrobe to choose from. All right. Come round in the morning and have a rummage. I’ll pay for these drinks. My treat.’

  I reached for my handbag. For some reason, it wasn’t hanging over my chair where I’d left it. Nor was it lurking beneath the table.

  ‘Amy,’ I said, trying not to panic, ‘I think someone’s stolen my bag.’

  The guy running the wine bar was very kind, letting me use the phone there to call the bank and credit card company.

  ‘I hate to leave you like this, Naomi, but I really have to get home,’ apologised Amy, getting agitated. ‘Bill will be late for his bookkeeping class as it is.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ I replied, not feeling fine at all. In fact, when she’d gone, I almost burst into tears.

  ‘Don’t worry, Naomi.’ The wine bar guy was standing beside me. ‘I’m sure everything will be all right.’ His voice was soft and comforting. And sexy.

  He smiled, showing neat white teeth. ‘I’m Perry. Why don’t you stay here and have another drink? On the house.’

  I accepted gratefully. ‘You know, Perry, I lost my job today.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ he said sympathetically.

  ‘I ask you, how unlucky can a girl get in one day?’

  He took my hand and smiled warmly. ‘Don’t worry, Naomi, however bad it seems, I think the fates have a way of sorting things out for the better.’

  ‘Really? You believe that?’

  ‘Really. Now, would you like me to top your glass up?’

  Perry stayed close by for the rest of the evening, assigning other staff to look after the customers while he took care of me. I was flattered, and hardly aware that people were drifting away as it got nearer to closing time.

  ‘Perhaps I should call you a taxi,’ he offered. ‘Will you be OK? I mean, won’t your boyfriend be worrying?’

  ‘Boyfriend. Ha!’ I growled sarcastically. ‘Don’t believe in boyfriends. Only good for one thing and not even that.’

  ‘I see,’ he said, smiling benignly.

  ‘Well, at least I’ve still got my coat,’ I slurred, cuddling it protectively. ‘Would you like to see it?’

  And I slipped it over my shoulders and pouted in what I imagined was a seductive manner.

  ‘It’s a very lovely coat, Naomi,’ he agreed. ‘Black velvet. May I touch it?’

  And before I could reply, Perry ran his fingers lightly down my arm, and I felt an unexpected tingle of electricity.

  ‘Beautiful,’ he breathed. ‘Such a sensuous fabric.’

  I shuddered. ‘Do that again,’ I said.

  Gently, Perry placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly, carefully, caressed me through the coat – along my elbows, down to my wrists and then lingering on my hands. Finally, he bent his head to my fingertips, kissing each one. Trembling, I muttered, breathing hard, ‘Again.’

  This time, Perry deftly wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me onto the empty bar in one swift movement.

  ‘I love your coat, Naomi,’ he murmured, pulling it open and running his hands down my stockinged legs, letting my black high heels drop to the floor with a soft thud. ‘You know what? I think it would look soooomuch better if you were naked beneath it.’

  My head was spinning from a mixture of alcohol and sexual excitement. You don’t know this man, a tiny voice inside my head warned me. Who cares? answered the flaming heat between my thighs.

  ‘Take off your dress, Naomi.’

  How could I resist that voice? Oblivious to the fact that we were probably providing a free show for any passers-by, I slipped off the velvet coat and wriggled out of the figure-hugging red dress that Amy had frequently told me was too sexy to wear for the office – particularly when I didn’t have a bra on. Like today, for instance.

  Perry’s eyes widened when he saw my firm white breasts, the nipples already hard, and as he leaned forward to wrap my coat around me, the bulge in his black jeans was unmistakable. While he longingly kissed the nape of my neck, Perry took my narrow waist in his broad hands, slowly sliding them down to my hips until they found my black lace suspender belt. Gently but firmly, he unclipped it, dropping it to the floor, along with my flimsy black silk knickers. Running his hands down my seamed stockings, he unpeeled first one, then the other, tenderly kissing each anklebone in turn. The tip of his tongue probed between each toe and I trembled, longing for that tongue to explore my aching pussy.

  ‘You’re very wet, Naomi,’ he observed. ‘I think perhaps that pretty cunt of yours needs some attention.’ And he plunged his head between my thighs while I cried out with pleasure. He took complete control, his tongue flicking lightly, barely a whisper of whisky breath on my clitoris. Then, when the sensations became unbearably delicious, he increased the pressure, little by little, until the first wave crashed over me and I was coming, my body arcing violently. Still he continued, licking and sucking, taking my throbbing flesh between his teeth, nibbling, teasing, and my body was once more wracked with currents of exquisite pleasure. After my third orgasm, Perry stopped, and said quietly, ‘Do you feel better now, Naomi?’

  ‘Hmm,’ I groaned hungrily, reaching for the zip on his jeans. ‘But I want you inside me, Perry. Now.’

  ‘Not t
onight, Naomi,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I never fuck on the first date. It’s bad manners, don’t you think?’ Noting my surprise and disappointment, he added quickly, ‘What about tomorrow?’

  To cut a long story short, Perry and I dated every night that week. Correction. We made love every night. Frequently. Ravenously. It was as if I’d been on a diet but had just been given permission to gorge myself on all the chocolate I could cram into my mouth. Perry was as good with his cock as he was with his tongue. And he was pretty damn talented with his fingers, too. In fact, if anyone had asked me to rate them in order of skill, I would have been hard-pressed to make a decision.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t make the party,’ I told Amy over coffee at my place one morning. ‘I met this guy. We’ve been seeing rather a lot of each other, so to speak.’

  ‘Sounds fun,’ Amy grinned. ‘So where did you meet him?’

  ‘The wine bar. Last week.’

  ‘What’s he like, then? Handsome, charming, great lover …’

  I nodded. ‘All of those. Actually, you met him there, too.’

  She frowned. ‘I did?’

  ‘Remember the wine bar owner?’

  ‘I’m impressed! You don’t waste any time, Naomi,’ she joked.

  ‘Neither does he,’ I laughed. ‘He’s amazing. In every way. Amy, I’m sure I’ve found the man of my dreams.’

  Perry was more than a great lover. He seemed interested in everything about me. He noticed what I wore, and often commented on it. This was quite a novelty, since my previous boyfriends were philistines in this area; once the initial novelty had worn off of snaring a new female, I was lucky if I raised a grunt from them if I asked for an opinion on my latest outfit. Perry, however, even bought me clothes – gorgeous, expensive dresses and skirts – in sumptuous fabrics. Particularly velvet. He suggested that I try out different styles and colours, paying attention to the cut and weight of the fabric. It was a long time since I had been the object of such undivided attention. And I loved every minute of it. In fact, I even let him persuade me to change the hairstyle I’d kept since my teens.

  ‘I know a wonderful hairdresser,’ he kept telling me. ‘Or should I say, hair designer. He can make you look even more stunning.’

  ‘Don’t you like blonde hair?’ I asked him, surprised. Most of the guys I knew before Perry went for blondes in a big way.

  ‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘But I think that black looks so much more dramatic. Mysterious. Sexy.’

  ‘Oh.’ I hesitated. I’d never coloured my hair before. I liked the fact I was a natural blonde. ‘Don’t you think going black might be a bit radical?’

  ‘Trust me,’ he replied in that dark velvety voice of his.

  So my waist-length tresses were cut and dyed into a stylish black close crop. Perry was delighted with my new look. I wasn’t so sure. It was a bit of a shock, seeing my lovely blonde hair being swept off the salon floor and tossed into the bin. But Perry insisted the transformation was everything he had imagined.

  ‘Perfect,’ he whispered into my ear as he wrote out the rather large cheque. ‘Simply perfect.’ And his lips brushed over my now exposed neck, sending tremors down my spine that seemed to culminate in my clit.

  But as time went on, I realised that his efforts to change me were perhaps a bit over the top. I didn’t notice at first, because he was subtle, dropping small hints.

  ‘Don’t you think that skirt’s a bit short? Not that it doesn’t look good, of course, and I like short skirts, but I think a longer length in that particular style suits your figure better. And what about trying this colour lipstick instead of your usual shade?’

  I began to wonder what was behind this. Was he going off me?

  ‘Perry, do you still find me attractive?’ I asked one night after a bout of passionate sex.

  ‘Why, darling,’ he replied looking hurt. ‘You know I think you are the sexiest, most beautiful woman on earth.’ He planted a series of butterfly kisses around the base of my spine as I lay face down on black satin sheets. I had to stop myself from melting, but I was determined to pursue this.

  ‘Have you ever been married before?’ I continued.

  ‘No, never,’ he said looking up at me. ‘I promise that you’re the woman of my dreams.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ He slid his sensitive fingers between my legs. ‘Satisfied?’

  ‘Hmmmmm. That feels good.’

  ‘You want more?’

  ‘Much more.’

  ‘Well, you asked for it.’

  He rolled over on top of me, his swollen cock resting on my belly, and I clamped my hands around it, anticipating how it would feel when it filled and stretched me.

  ‘Turn over,’ and he flipped me onto my back. ‘Lift up your hips.’ Within seconds he was pushing into my gaping cunt, thrusting energetically until I was gasping for breath, then slowing down until he had almost stopped, making me wait, bringing me repeatedly to the edge until finally, unable to hold back any longer, we exploded together.

  Afterwards, when I was nestled in his protective arms, thinking how lucky I was to have found such a considerate lover, he said casually, ‘By the way, there’s someone I want you to meet tomorrow night.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘It’s a surprise.’

  I spent the next day trying to figure out who it could be. His boss? A gorgeous twin brother? I rather liked this idea and found myself imagining what it might be like to be made love to by two Perrys.

  By the time I was ready to see him, I was trembling with anticipation, having geared myself up to the thought of a mind-blowing threesome. I opened the car door and stepped out carefully, smoothing my dress down. It was Perry’s favourite, and he had specially requested that I wear it tonight. Made of stretchy blue velvet, it moulded to my hips and thighs. It was short. Very short. I was also wearing my black shiny shoes with six-inch heels, which made my bare legs look even longer and my dress even shorter. I wasn’t wearing any knickers so when I bent over the seat to reach for my handbag, little was left to the imagination. Taking a deep breath I straightened up and walked purposefully up the drive, tottering a little in the heels.

  As arranged, I arrived at his flat at 7.30 p.m., breathing in the smell of his excellent cooking as soon as he opened the door. (This man could cook nearly as well as he could fuck.)

  ‘Hello, darling.’ He kissed my forehead.

  ‘So, who am I going to meet?’ I asked impatiently.

  He gave a secretive smile and for some reason, I began to feel uneasy. As I stepped into the lounge I smelt a familiar perfume – just like the one Perry had bought for my birthday. Surely it wasn’t an ex-girlfriend? Or perhaps my dream lover was married after all …

  ‘She’s in the bathroom,’ said Perry. ‘She’ll be out in a minute. I can’t wait for the two of you to meet.’

  He’d just finished speaking when the ‘she’ in question came out and we met face to face. We could have been identical twins, except she was about twenty years older than me. It was uncanny. She was wearing the same dress, in sky blue velvet, and her hair was the same dark crop cut. But it got worse.

  ‘Naomi. I want you to meet my mother,’ Perry announced proudly.

  In my haste to leave, I almost picked up the wrong coat, which was hardly surprising because Perry’s mother also had a velvet coat with fur trimmings – very similar to mine, in fact.

  A policeman turned up last night to say my handbag had been handed in (empty, of course).

  ‘Never let your handbag or purse out of your sight in future,’ he advised in his deep, slightly gravelly voice. ‘There are too many professional thieves operating round here.’ As he spoke, I thought how smart he looked in his uniform, with perfectly pressed trousers and polished buttons and all manner of shiny things that dangled and jangled from his leather belt. His handcuffs looked particularly eye-catching. Even his helmet, which nestled beside him on the sofa, was impressive. Noble, somehow. A symbol of authority. />
  He didn’t seem in a hurry to go, and I joked that there clearly wasn’t much crime on his patch for him to be able to spend his time chatting to me.

  We’re going to see a film together on Saturday night. An erotic thriller. It’s had good reviews – supposed to be quite sexy. I’m meeting him at the cinema, straight after his shift finishes. But I’ve told him to keep his uniform on – particularly the leather belt with shiny attachments. I have a new fetish now, you see.

  Sacrifice

  by Jim Baker

  ‘Trick or treat!’

  I peered at the small faces through a whisky haze, threw some sweets towards them and slammed the apartment door.

  I picked up the bottle.

  God – four years to the day since it happened. How I wish we had never been to look at that house.

  ‘What’s that?’

  Joanne was peering out of the window into the misty garden.

  ‘What, love?’

  ‘Down there on the lawn. That hut thing.’

  ‘That’s the summerhouse, madam.’ The estate agent joined us by the window. ‘Very sought after.’

  ‘Sought after? That thing?’

  ‘Well, you can’t see it properly from here,’ the agent said testily. ‘I’m sure your children will love it.’

  Joanne smiled at him.

  ‘Our daughter’s nearly seventeen. I’m not sure a summerhouse will be her thing. But we’ll take a look.’

  We left the agent in the house and walked across the lawn to the small wooden building. It was dark coloured and dirty and, as we went inside, I had the feeling of invading something. Something, or someone, very old. The door swung partly closed and the light faded.