Amusing Amanda Read online

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “Your English is impeccable, Ciel. May I call you Ciel?”

  He shrugged. “If I say no, you’ll do it anyway.”

  She laughed. “You are very shrewd, Ciel. I like that in a man. Tell me more about your background,” she invited, sitting down on the sofa and tucking her bare feet up under her.

  “I didn’t come here to talk about my background. I came here to find out what kind of complaint you could possibly bring against me.”

  A pulse was throbbing at his temple. Amanda ran her eyes over him. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a rather tattered looking black leather jacket. His running shoes were probably fairly fashionable when he purchased them but were wearing badly. His clothing however was not a distraction. It merely served as a crude covering for a positively gorgeous masterpiece.

  Broad shoulders, muscular torso, great bubble ass and a definite heavy load between the thighs … oh yes … and that was not to mention his face. His face looked as if it had been sculptured, and along with big, beautiful black eyes, the beauty of it would have blasted the male fashion models of the day right out of the water. His mouth was exquisite with just a hint of sensual cruelty. Surely, someone along the way must have taught him how to use it. She was growing weak now looking at him, thinking of that mouth and its capabilities, imagining what it could do with Scott’s cock.

  “Please sit,” she pleaded softly, “I can’t talk to you like this.” He took the seat opposite her, sitting with his legs apart, hands resting on his thighs. She licked her lips. “Before we go any further Ciel, you’re going to have to take off your clothes.”

  His nostrils flared. He sucked in some air and stood up. “What did you say?”

  She laughed. “You’re far too touchy, but I like it. I like it a lot. I love your bold manly pride. You must be sensational in bed.”

  “Madame,” he said, sounding French again, “what is it exactly you want from me? I have no intention of sleeping with you in exchange for my job so…”

  She laughed. “I wasn’t going to ask you to sleep with me, Ciel. I was going to offer you the chance of a lifetime, but before I do I have to find out what it is you keep under those clothes … then if I approve, I will make the offer.”

  He looked mystified. He stood still, waiting.

  “Since you haven’t left yet, I assume my offer intrigues you.”

  He sighed. “What is your offer, Madame?”

  She smiled, swallowing some more of her whiskey. “You must sit down and relax, have a drink, then, I will tell you. I don’t like to rush these things. I have searched long and hard, I must make sure.”

  Ciel reached down for the glass of whiskey she had sat on the table. He swallowed it in a few gulps and sat back down, moving the glass around in his hand.

  “My husband died seven years ago. He left me a very wealthy woman. When he was alive, I played the role of the dutiful wife. I entertained, I joined committees and I remained faithful. My husband was a sex addict. All he wanted to do was fuck me, but he never knew how to satisfy me. I hated him fucking me. The man couldn’t have made an emotional connection if he tried. It was all mechanical. After he died, I decided I was going to fulfill all the desires I had repressed for so long. I had seen the pretentious people in that world putting on airs, pretending to be what they weren’t. I decided that I was finished with illusion. I have the money to buy what I want. No bullshit. So, I’m going to be upfront with you, Ciel.”

  He was looking at her intently.

  “You hate your job, and I can tell you are much too intelligent to be a waiter all your life. What is it exactly you want to be when you grow up, Ciel?”

  He laughed shortly, and she watched as a wistful expression flitted across his face, quickly replaced by his normal expression of arrogance. “I write. I’m trying to finish a degree actually. I thought I could teach while I…”

  “Do you write in English or French?” she asked, interrupting him, as she refilled her glass, her hands caressing the bottle briefly before releasing it.

  “English,” he said, “although I have written a few short pieces in French for magazines here in Paris. Before my mother died, we lived in New York so the first language I learned was English.”

  “How long have you been living in France, Ciel?”

  “My father came home to France when my mother died. I was ten years old.” He shrugged, his beautiful face expressionless.

  “Umm. You want to return to live in America.”

  “Eventually, but first I need…”

  “You’ll finish your degree at U.C.L.A., be mentored by Malcolm Dewitt … you do know Malcolm Dewitt, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” he said, “Malcolm Dewitt is the winner of the most prestigious prize in literature. He…”

  “That’s right,” she said curtly, sitting up now. “Are you interested or would you rather stay here and wipe rich people’s asses?”

  Ciel shook his dark head. “I don’t understand. You want to take me back to America?”

  “Yes. I’ll pay for everything and you’ll live like a king.” She met his eyes.

  “What’s the catch?” He lifted an eyebrow.

  “I prefer to call it an agreement.”

  “I suspect it has to do with sex. You want me to…?”

  “Are you gay or straight, Ciel?”

  “Decidedly gay.” His chin went up a fraction indicating the pride he felt in his sexuality. No, this was not a man who hid from who he was.

  “Does the idea of fucking a man in front of a woman repulse you?”

  “I don’t know, I suppose not,” he shook his head.

  “You like to fuck men, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” she smiled.

  He looked surprised. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will, but first,” she said, standing up, “you must take off your clothes. You aren’t modest I hope because there is no room for modesty in this agreement.”

  “No,” he said. “I’m not modest.”

  “Good, then go ahead, let me see you.”

  Amanda watched as Ciel removed the leather jacket, then the t-shirt. When his naked chest came into view, she sucked in some air. She liked the confident way he undid his pants, pulling the belt aggressively out of the loops, zipping off the jeans and letting them fall down over his hips. He glanced at her once before pulling off the white briefs he wore, then, stood there boldly in front of her.

  “I feel rather foolish,” he said.

  She kept her distance, her eyes raping his flesh thoroughly. “Turn around,” she said.

  He did without hesitation. She sighed. His ass was perfect. It was round and firm with just the slightest indentations on the sides. Her eyes moved up his spine to the broad shoulders. She came closer and moved around him.

  She took her time assessing him, pausing at his mouth as she worked her way down. He had perfectly shaped pectorals with taut brown nipples, with just the slightest path of hair leading down to his navel which sat in the middle of the flat waves of his stomach. She followed that path of fine dark hair again, her eyes caressing the rounded head of his cock, with its promising looking shaft, shadowing two perfectly almond shaped balls. Powerful thighs worked their way down to muscular calves and feet around the same size as Scott’s, ten perhaps, ten and a half.

  “Make it hard for me,” she said, raising her eyes to his. “Think of your wildest fantasy. Pretend you are fucking the perfect man. He wants you desperately, wants you to violate him, fuck him hard. Go ahead,” she urged. “Touch yourself.”

  * * * *

  Amanda watched Ciel as he got dressed. Nothing about him disappointed her. His body was incredibly beautiful. He wasn’t modest and when he was erect, his cock was substantial. “May I ask you something?” Amanda said suddenly as Ciel pulled his t-shirt on.

  “Go ahead,” he replied.

  “How big is your cock, eight or eight an
d a half?”

  “Closer to nine,” he said with a smirk. “Will that do?”

  “It will do nicely I should think.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t want to…” he began hesitantly.

  “What? Try it on for size?”

  “Something like that. You’re willing to take a strange man to America to satisfy you, and you don’t even know if I can…”

  “Fuck? First of all I’ve had enough fucking to last me a lifetime. I prefer to satisfy myself with a little help. It’s not me who will judge your fucking ability, Ciel. If you are judged inadequate, I’ll pay your way back and give you something for your trouble.”

  “I still don’t understand,” he murmured. “I thought that…?”

  “Sit down Ciel,” she smiled softly. “I’ll explain everything and then you must make a decision.”

  He sat, meeting her eyes.

  “At home waiting for me right now is Scott. Scott has been with me for around six years. He used to be a male escort. He’s beautiful, sensitive and sweet as sugar. He’s my soul mate, but we don’t actually fuck. Men turn me on, Ciel, but men who love men, turn me on even more. It’s not me you will be fucking, it’s Scott. I’ll be watching.”

  His mouth hung open. “I … this is beginning to get weird.”

  “Why?” She smiled. “I satisfy myself vicariously watching Scott take it up the ass, get his nipples stimulated … he loves nipple play … and blowing his load. You can think of me what you will. I really don’t give a damn. I know that many people would love it too, but they are too damn prudish to ever admit it. Scott loves men as much as I do. I came to Europe looking for the most beautiful man, and I found him. If you think that’s wrong, then you’re free to refuse my offer.”

  “You mean I won’t be fucking you at all?”

  “No. Have you even been tied up, Ciel?”

  “You mean as in bondage?”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  “Yes … some light stuff. Nothing heavy.”

  “Good. I don’t get off on pain, or peeing on people, or animals. Nothing that extreme … but some bondage … definitely. Scott likes to submit but I enjoy watching him dominate sometimes, especially with strong virile men such as yourself.”

  He was silent.

  “Ciel, I’ll pay your university and hook you up with all the right people. In return, you agree to amuse me with Scott, and take no other lover outside this arrangement unless I decide otherwise.”

  “Is this twenty four hours a day?”

  She laughed. “Good heavens no. Mostly on the weekend … unless it’s a special request. If you’re open to it, I promise you won’t regret it. I’m sorry I don’t have a picture of Scott to show you but you won’t be disappointed.”

  “For how long?”

  “Long enough for you to finish your degree. Then if you want to leave, you will be free to. Given the delicacy of the situation, there are no legal binding contracts. All I will say is this, if you leave before your time is up, I have enough influence to ruin you. You’ll never sell a book in my country. Do you believe me?” He nodded.

  “Fine. I leave tomorrow. You have a week to clean up here. A ticket will be waiting for you at the airport in seven days from now. All you have to do is leave a message for me. I’ll give you my home number in L.A. You’ll be notified as to when your flight leaves. You’ll arrive on Scott’s birthday.”

  “I haven’t agreed yet,” he said mildly, folding his hands together.

  “Oh I know that,” she smiled, “but you will.”

  * * * *

  Pierre listened to all Ciel said in silence, then, he reached over and grabbed one of his muscular forearms. “What in hell are you waiting for? Call the woman. Tell her you’ll be there.”

  Ciel cradled a cup of coffee in his hands, and sighed. “It sounds too good to be true … and besides isn’t it a bit like prostitution?”

  “Ciel,” Pierre rolled his eyes. “With all the kinky sex you’ve had, this is probably the most elementary; so, the old lady gets off watching two men fuck. Big deal. She’s loaded.”

  “She’s hardly an old lady. She’s probably forty.”

  “Go, Ciel. Don’t pass this up … a chance to live in L.A … to write without having to work … to meet that famous author you’re always going on about. You don’t even know if you’ll have the money for school next term. You can study at a great American university. Shit, man, go.”

  Pierre’s echoing of his own thoughts had convinced him. The next day he phoned L.A. and left a message for Amanda. He was coming. Two days later, the airport called confirming his reservation on a seven o’clock flight. Ciel stared at the phone dumbly for a moment. There was nothing more to think about, no turning back. The decision was made.

  Chapter Two

  All week Amanda had been teasing Scott about his birthday present. She wanted him to guess what it was, to build his curiosity, to drive him mad with impatience. By the end of the week he was more than ready. She could sense his excitement, even though he hid it behind his cool exterior. She had allowed him no sexual vices all week. He was even forbidden to masturbate, and to ensure he didn’t, she made him sleep in her bed, which was something she rarely did. She had succeeded in building his curiosity as well as physical tension.

  When his birthday finally arrived, she sent him off for a massage, and told him to be back promptly at seven p.m.

  “I’ll be finished way before then,” he protested.

  “So what, amuse yourself. Go and see a movie, a clean one,” she cautioned. “No masturbating in the theatre.” He laughed at that and obeyed, speeding off in his sleek Italian sports car.

  At four, Amanda sent Lionel with the limo to go and pick up Ciel at the airport. Meanwhile she instructed her staff to fill her bedroom with fresh flowers and lavender scented candles, make up the king-sized bed with red satin sheets, and bring up a bottle of her most expensive champagne from the cellar. Dinner was to be served promptly at eight, with strawberries dipped in chocolate for dessert.

  After she was satisfied that everything had been arranged to her satisfaction, she soaked in a long, hot bubble bath. She closed her eyes, and imagined her evening … imagined how Scott would react when he saw Ciel … envisioned the desire on his sweet face … the gratitude in his eyes.

  * * * *

  Ciel arrived before Scott. He looked a little tired from his flight, and just a little anxious. She saw his eyes widen a little when he saw her. She had taken particular care with her attire tonight. Her little black dress was short, and played up her long legs, displayed beautifully by her pure silk nude stockings and six-inch red pumps. She didn’t hug him. He was just too delicious. Instead she gave him a lipstick painted smile, and told Daisy to take Mr. Durand’s bag up to his room.

  “You like what you see, Ciel?” she asked softly, taking his arm lightly and bringing him into the setting room.

  He looked around at the lavish furnishings and genuine oil paintings, and met her eyes. She felt his eyes dip to her low cut bodice that profiled her generous, creamy white breasts, and then return to settle on her mouth.

  Amanda’s smile widened. “I’m so glad to see such appreciation, Ciel. I like a man who knows which side his bread is buttered on. How was your trip?”

  “Long,” he said.

  “Please sit,” she pointed to one of the brocade love seats. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Yes, that would be nice.”

  “Alcoholic, or no?” She enquired, calling for one of the servant girls who lingered within earshot.

  “A glass of red wine,” he replied.

  “Girl, bring Mr. Durand a glass of our finest burgundy.”

  “Something for you, madam?” she asked, glancing shyly at the gorgeous man sitting opposite Amanda at the same time.

  “No nothing,” Amanda said. “Now stop gawking girl, and get on with it.” She laughed when the servant left, the girl’s eyes searching out Ciel’s. �
��You think me harsh. I can tell from your expression.”

  He shook his head, long luscious black hair falling across his cheek. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

  “Liar,” she accused playfully. “You think me a draconian princess.”

  He laughed. “Hardly.”

  Her eyes slid over him. True he was travel weary, his jeans and t-shirt wrinkled. There was a shadow of beard on his jaw, but Christ it was sexy as hell. He was so much more male than Scott and it was enticing the animal in her. If they’d been alone, she might have ripped those clothes off of him with her teeth and raped him … but that was Scott’s job. She giggled suddenly at the thought. Scott would sure be surprised. That wasn’t the way she played at all.

  He raised a dark eyebrow at her now, probably thinking she was a crazy woman. “Sorry,” Amanda grinned, “private joke.”

  The serving girl came back with the wine. Amanda watched as he sipped it, his sensuous lips stained with the liquid. She imagined Scott licking it off of him slowly, pouring an entire bottle over his naked flesh and tasting every drop of it, every drop of him.

  “Excellent,” he said, referring to his wine glass.

  “Yes, for the price, it’s good. Tell me Ciel, what were your thoughts on the way here?”

  “Thoughts?” He said the word softly, as if it were sacred.

  “Did you think I was the bitch queen buying flesh with her money?”

  He blinked. “No, I…”

  “Many would. You see in this world we live, women are only allowed to be the prey, to be at the mercy of men’s whims. We are not supposed to have our own desires, and if we do, they must be tame and ladylike. Do you believe that a woman’s desires run as fierce as a man’s, Ciel?”

  He took another swallow of his wine, then leaned forward and said simply, “I’m beginning to.”

  “I like you,” she replied, slipping her fingers through her shoulder length red page boy. “I like you a lot.”

  He smiled.

  “Now,” she said suddenly, standing up, “I will take you to your room where you can shower and change for dinner.”