West Bound For Jordon

An Entertaining Afternoon

     Jordan pushed the sliding, metal door aside on the old, freight elevator and stepped out into the hallway. Her heels clicked perceptively against the old, wide-plank, hardwood floors of the converted warehouse as she passed the apartments one after another, stopping at last in front of the door marked 909. She raised her hand to knock but got no response.

     Not a woman to be put off by a locked door, Jordan opened her purse and dug around in its contents for the spare key she kept to Lowell's apartment. Once she'd located it, she fitted it into the lock and turned the knob. The door swung open to reveal the open-concept great room that made up the bulk of Lowell's domain.

     The room was decorated in a garish display of Mardi Gras masks, 1950's art-deco paintings, a mismatched collection of Buddha statuary, and several tanks full of tropical fish. Lowell was dancing in the kitchen area, his back to Jordan as she crossed the floor, her shoes making a loud echo against the ceramic tiles.

      his ears and finished the line he was singing slightly off-key.

     "Hurt so good!" Jordan laughed, tossing the earbuds back at Lowell. "Never took you for a John Mellencamp fan, Lowell," she teased.

     Lowell blushed and attempted to tame his wild, copper hair. "Well, Ms. Harley, wouldn't you say it's kind of a fitting tribute to you? Kind of a song to herald the arrival of an awesome dominatrix?"

     "Whatever you say, Lowell, whatever you say. So…" Jordan stalled.

     "Tell me you brought it?" Lowell gushed, practically squirming around in front of her in his Sponge Bob pajama bottoms and a tight-fitting white t-shirt.

     "Brought what, exactly?" Jordan teased, a coy smile playing at the corners of her plum shaded lips.

     "The tape of you beating West's ass!" Lowell cried, giving in to the urge to jump up and down with excitement.

     "Oh, that, yes of course I have it," Jordan sighed as she reached into her purse and held out a compact disk. "Remember what I told you, Lowell! You can only watch it. You are absolutely forbidden to download and copy. Do I make myself emphatically clear?" she asked, crossing her arms and tapping the toe of her left shoe against the gray tiles.

     "Oh, yes, Ma'am! I'd never dream of going against a direct order from my boss and best friend!" Lowell gushed again and clutched the CD to his chest as though it was a precious possession. "Let me just load this up on my PC and have a look."

     "Use the earbuds if you don't mind, Lowell. I've no intention of listening to that aloud again. Oh, do you have any vodka?"

     "Bar is over there," Lowell waved dismissively toward the far wall where his well-stocked liquor cabinet rested against the exposed brick.

     Jordon knew he meant no disrespect. Lowell was simply too absorbed with his task to show it. Jordon turned her back to him and poured herself a half glass of vodka, then strutted across the room to open Lowell's refrigerator. She rummaged through the contents of day-old Chinese take-out and wilted lettuce until she located the carton of orange juice. This she topped off her glass of vodka with and stirred the contents with the cleanest spoon she found in the silverware drawer. When she turned back to Lowell, he was slipping the earbuds in and settling back in his chair to watch the scene unfolding on the screen of his computer.

     Jordan ignored it and settled herself into a very large, overstuffed bean-bag chair in the corner and took in the impressive view out of the large windows, overlooking the business district. Jordan loved Lowell's apartment. She'd nearly bought it herself when it came on the market but she'd known the place was for him and she couldn't bear to have him living in D.C. It was too far away for a boy like Lowell. She liked having him close. Close enough that she could easily walk to his apartment when she needed him, or summon him to the corner coffee shop if she wanted company.

     She sighed and swirled the contents of her screwdriver, taking a casual sip every now and then. Lowell moaned and clutched at the crotch of his pajamas, shifting about in the chair as he leaned closer to the screen to get a better view. Jordan could almost imagine that he was probably watching Orion stripping off his clothes, getting into position. She found herself momentarily distracted from Lowell's appreciative sounds as her mind wandered back to last night's events and she recalled, as clearly as if she were reliving it all, the sights, sounds, smells, sensations she'd experienced while playing with the intriguing Mr. West.

     Orion was definitely not her usual client. She'd met with several questioning stares as she left the club but had chosen to ignore them. She didn't owe anyone of them an explanation. She could damn well play with whomever she chose to play with. Of course, the gossip mill would be running at full-court press now.

     "Did you hear? Ms. Harley played with a hot, young stud last night! Maybe she's changing her preferences!"

     Oh, hell, yes, she could hear it all now. She supposed it couldn't hurt anything. Her usual clients wouldn't be affected in any way by it. She certainly wasn't affected by it. She crossed her legs and leaned back in the soft cushion, her eyes drifting closed. Lowell continued to make soft moans as he watched, his eyes peeled to the screen. Jordan imagined the scene as it had played out, just as Lowell was seeing it now.

     Orion West, even the name was sexy. The man was all muscle, dark skin, black hair, full, soft mouth, high cheekbones, sultry, sensual, dangerous, he resembled what she had always imagined the devil himself would look like were he to take a human form. Yes, Orion was beyond beautiful. He was unattainable and yet he'd broken so easily for her. Hadn't she known he would? Didn't most men like him crave for someone else to take control, even for a moment?

     She shook her head as she tried to dispel the visual of him naked, hanging by his wrists, feet barely touching the floor as she decorated his beautiful, dark skin with her flogger. Oh how prettily he'd marked up for her. How easily he'd given over when she had him beneath her command. She remembered the way his body had awakened to her touch as she brought him experiences he'd maybe only dreamed of in the darkest recesses of his mind.

     Yes, his mind… what sort of thoughts were in it? What did Mr. West think about when he was alone? What sort of car did he drive? What kind of books did he read if he even read at all? Had he been smart in school? How many years of college had he completed? Did he like Greek food? What kind of sports did he enjoy? She pictured his apartment as being somewhat like Lowell's except much more tastefully decorated. She imagined he would drive a Maserati or maybe a Porsche. She pictured a wall of shelves filled with porn. She wondered if maybe he was homophobic as his reaction to her penetrating him seemed to indicate. Maybe not, most men were just fearful of the unknown.

     "Jordon… Ms. Harley?"

     Lowell's voice stirred her from her musings about Orion and she cleared her throat. "Yes, Lowell, what the hell is it?"

     "Um, I'm done watching it, Ma'am and may I say it was exceptional. He's damn good looking though. I doubt if I'll ever be able to look him in the eye should I meet him again. Wish I could have been there…" Lowell trailed off with a wistful sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically as he handed her the CD.

     Jordan reached for it and then took Lowell's proffered hand as he helped her to get to her feet. She shoved the CD into the purse and zipped it closed, then slipped the strap over her left shoulder and turned to face Lowell.

     "I don't think I have to remind you what will happen if you breathe a word of what you just saw to any other living person?" she asked, lowering her eyes menacingly.

     Lowell stood, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pajama pants, his hair wild and unkempt looking and his face completely contrite. Sponge Bod laughed up at her obnoxiously from the tented crotch of his pants. "No, Ma'am!" Lowell piped enthusiastically.

     "Good, I'll see myself to the door. You can get back to your country rock-inspired aerobics or whatever the hell it was that you were doing when I interrupted you," Jordan replied as she swung around and headed for the door.

#

     Orion lay stretched out in the center of his bed, the comforter draped around him. He was laying face down to spare his sore bottom and thighs that still smarted from the hard spanking he'd endured at the hands of the enigmatic Ms. Harley. He could barely stand to think of her now. When he woke up that morning, every muscle in his body had been aching miserably. He'd taken a handful of aspirin and tried to get moving but it had been an exercise in futility. Sometimes it was just better to call in sick, even if it was to the family business.

     Of course, his father had been furious with him, accusing Orion of being drunk or high. If only his old man knew the real reason for his truancy. That thought had brought at least a cursory smile to his face. At the very least, he'd had Cleopatra for company and she'd had the brass to climb up in his bed and curl up next to him, though he'd nearly pissed himself when she decided to sharpen her claws on the comforter and they'd come into contact with his aching bottom.

     The damn b***h was mewling loudly in his ear at the moment, demanding that he get up and fill her food bowl. Orion sighed and struggled in the blankets, righting himself and sitting gingerly on the side of the bed while the hungover feeling subsided. The Percocet he'd taken last night was still in his system and the drowsy drunken feeling would probably last for at least a few more hours. He padded, naked into the kitchen, opened a can of cat food and set it down on the floor for Cleo, then made his way into the master bath.

     Orion stood under the hot spray of the rain shower, willing the water to take away the aches in his muscles. He watched the rivulets running down over his chest, his stomach, his c**k. It twitched in memory of the feeling of Jordan's hands and he quickly dismissed that thought. He would never see her again, at least not if he could help it, and to think, that woman had believed he would actually like having a hard, plastic dildo shoved up his…

     "Oh to hell with it!" Orion hissed into the steamy air through clenched teeth. It was impossible to deny the fact that it had felt f*****g amazing once he'd resigned himself to let go and give her control, though it wasn't something he proposed to do on a regular basis, it was futile to think that he wouldn't at some point, find an excuse to cross paths with Ms. Jordan once again.

#

     Orion felt lonely, isolated. Even Cleopatra ignored him when he tried to engage her. She sat curled up in her heated bed in the window seat, pointedly refusing to look at him when he called her name from across the room where he was curled up on the sofa.

     "You self-righteous b***h!" he sneered at her. "I ought to get a dog! That's exactly what I'm going to do! I'll walk my ass down to the dog-pound and pick out the biggest the very biggest… a Rottweiler! I'll get one and he'll eat you alive, then he'll s**t turds the size of your head and… and …. Oh f**k it; I'd have to pick them up then!"

     Cleopatra turned her head and gave him a "told you so!" glance before resuming her previous behavior of completely ignoring him.

     "f**k you, then!" he mumbled under his breath as he toyed with the idea of getting dressed and heading down to the corner café for a cup of black coffee and perhaps a little something to eat. After a few more moments spent attempting to block the arousing memories of the previous evening, Orion stumbled to his feet and rummaged through his dresser for something presentable to wear, hunger winning out over the desire to indulge in self-pity.

     Less than an hour later, Orion strolled stiffly down the sidewalk in front of his building as he headed toward the little coffee shop on the corner. He never went into that place. Most of the patrons were the usual bohemian crowd and the occasional hippie or tourist from D.C. Orion considered himself above such low-lives. Today was an exception. He didn't want to traipse all over Georgetown to find something to eat. He opened the door and stepped out of the wind and weather. What greeted him inside was anything but what he'd expected.

     The atmosphere was subdued and quiet with most of the bistro-style tables occupied by men and women in business attire. The one exception that Orion could see from where he stood, was a young man seated at the bar area, sipping at what looked to be a latte and reading a paperback novel. It took Orion a minute to register where he'd seen that man before, then it clicked and he got a painful jolt of memory straight to his balls. That was the young man from Ms. Harley's office that had fallen into him when he knocked on her office door. The same young man who had almost destroyed any chance Orion might have of creating a life beyond his own with a misplaced elbow directly to the groin.

     Orion pulled off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack beside the door, then made his way across the room and pulled out the barstool beside the copper-haired, young man. At first, the fellow didn't seem to notice Orion's presence, so engrossed in his book as he was. But when Orion cleared his throat and turned so that he was facing the young man, it was obvious that he was attempting to get the boy's attention.

     "Um, Lowell, isn't it?" Orion asked, tentatively, not sure he was correct as his memory of that event was thankfully a little bit blurred.

     Upon hearing his name, the young man looked up from his book. The moment he saw Orion, he blushed a deep shade of red, his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. "Oh, umm, I uh…" the poor boy stammered pitifully.

     "s**t, man, it's ok; I know you weren't trying to castrate me the other day. You work for Ms. Harley, right?" Orion asked.

     "Um, yeah, I work for Jor… Ms. Harley. Why do you ask?" Lowell blushed even redder if that was possible and seemed suddenly to be very interested in a crack on the countertop.

     "I just wanted to make conversation I guess. Never been in this place even though it's right outside my building," Orion answered.

     "You live close to here?" Lowell asked, seeming rather surprised at the possibility.

     "Oh, yeah, I live in the converted warehouse. I have the penthouse suite on the tenth floor," Orion answered, then nodded at the waitress who came over to take his order.

     Lowell sat staring in genuine shock at Orion West. Not only had he come face to face with the young man he'd just watched on his computer screen, being flogged by Jordon but that same young man had just announced that he happened to live in the very same building that Lowell lived in. It was too much of a coincidence for Lowell to take.

     "But I've never seen you before!" Lowell began. "That is, I live in that building too, on the ninth floor and I don't remember ever seeing you in the common area or the elevator."

     "I have my own entrance in the back and I use a private elevator, not the old freight one," Orion answered.

     Lowell remained silent and watched as the waitress returned and sat a cup of black coffee in front of Orion, then handed him a menu.

     "What's good to eat here?" Orion asked, scanning the menu. "Are the sandwiches any good?"

     "Um, yeah, the pulled pork is really good. That is if you like meat," Lowell stammered, turning red again.

     "Why the hell wouldn't I like meat?" Orion asked, tilting his head to one side inquiringly.

     "Well, I'm a vegetarian," Lowell answered.

     "Of course you are," Orion replied, not seeming at all surprised by Lowell's reply. "If you're a vegetarian then how the hell do you know the pulled pork is good?" Orion wondered.

     "It's Jordan's favorite when she eats here," Lowell answered nervously, thinking it might be best not to bring up Jordon's name too much in conversation as Mr. West might not want to talk about her.

     "Oh, she comes here too?" Orion asked, glancing up at Lowell through his long bangs. Lowell had to suppress the urge to reach out and push those bangs out of Orion's deep-set brown eyes just to get a better look into them.

     "Yeah, she lives in the brownstone there on the corner," Lowell gestured to the old building down the block from them.

     "s**t, are you serious?" Orion gaped at Lowell over his coffee.

     "Uh-huh, why?" Lowell dared to ask.

     "Oh, no reason. I just didn't know she lived so close, that's all. Small world isn't it?" Orion murmured as he took a tentative sip of his coffee.

     Lowell watched the steam rising from Orion's cup and watched as it slipped up past the slight frown on his face. Lowell didn't have to wonder why that frown was there. He sniffed and took a sip of his latte. They sat together in companionable silence as Orion ate and Lowell pretended to read. Neither man seemed able or willing to break the silence. When Orion had finished eating and left the required currency on the counter for the waitress, he turned to face Lowell again.

     "Maybe I'll see you in here again sometime, Lowell, right?"

     "Yeah, ya never know!" Lowell said, smiling at the handsome, dark-skinned man as he slipped his jacket on and headed for the door.

     Lowell grinned even wider as he noticed the stiff way Orion moved. "Oh yeah, still feeling that beating aren't ya? You bad, bad boy!" Lowell whispered to himself before turning back to his now cooled cup of latte.