Sappho Intl (Songs of Silk Book 1) Read online

  “Bet. I’m cool with that.”

  I poured both of us a glass of moscato and gave one to Flourish.

  “It's been a minute since I’ve been here. I forgot how beautiful the view is with the floor to ceiling windows. They changed the décor, though…feels a little more minimalist—but still with a dash of Miami art deco.”

  “Yeah, I love how Miami interiors have so much white-on-white, with just a few light splashes of cool, neon colors. It’s like living in heaven’s nightclub.”

  I removed my shirt down to a black tank to reveal a full upper-body tribal tattoo. Then I let my hair down out of the Samurai knot, that it’d been up in all day, and dimmed the lights to an ambient blue.

  I could sense her eyes following me around the room as I wound down.

  “What does your tribal mean?” She now seemed subdued by the ink that covered the entire upper half of my body.

  “It’s phoenix rising—self-preservation through light and love. I started it in high school to remind myself of where I’d been and where I’m going—that I might’ve died a little inside but I dusted myself off and rose up.”

  “How appropriate. It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. It’s amazing how it started out so small, but then it kinda took on a life of its own.”

  I proceeded to light many of the floor candles that’d been provided by the penthouse and placed on soft tantric melodies from the Café del Mar playlist that I’d uploaded earlier.

  Flourish began to relax as she drank from her glass and sighed. “God, I love South Beach!”

  ”I couldn’t agree more. There is no place like it.”

  I sat down and instinctively removed Flourishes’ Nike runners and socks, as she continued to relax. She leaned back into the soft fur behind her and began to nuzzle its hairs with her fingers.

  . “Oh yeah, this is exactly what I needed.” She proclaimed between sighs of sheer bliss.

  She removed her sweaty sports bra and boy shorts and seductively dictated,” I’m going to take a shower…I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Please make yourself comfortable. Mi casa es su casa.”

  She bit her bottom lip, as if to seal the deal. Then she gracefully turned towards the arched hallway to the rhythm of the drums of the rich Ibiza melodies that now filled the room.

  The sway of her full and rounded cheeks entranced me, as her form lightly disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom. I heard the water from the showerhead begin to echo against the full marble granite walk-in and, after some time, I began to remove all of my clothes to follow the trail that her sensuous essence left.

  Her smoothly, tanned skin was enveloped with soaped bubbles and contrasted with the forest green, marble granite that surrounded her. So, it wasn’t hard to find her through the mist of the steam where she bathed.

  I opened the shower door and the streams of spray from above transformed into a light waterfall that chased the dirt of the day away. Droplets dripped from her eyelashes to join trails of rivers that cascaded from bouldered nipples to curving hills and lower valleys. Her emerald eyes urged me, through the mist, to meet her lips and she engulfed my tongue with such passion. With such release to the sexual tension that’d been building since our first encounter.

  Our bodies followed our tongues’ cues, as we took refuge in the bliss that rained down upon us. And my hands followed the flourishes and swirled ink that guided the waters way. She sucked from my breast and passed her hands over my own wetness, as we moaned with a common yearning. And the echoes of frantic pants bounced off the walls around us.

  I kissed her, inch by inch, to follow the trails of rivers and to passionately sip from cupped breasts that held stone-hard nipples. She moaned as though the wait had ached, as I continued to follow the rivers to inhale the heavenly mist that lifted within her navel’s steam. A dangling belly button ring sat there. And I bit and kissed it, ever so gently, as she arched her breasts towards the showerhead in pure ecstasy.

  “God, Silk, I been wanting you so bad.” She managed to spout between gasping breaths.

  I sunk to my knees, as though bowing to a queen, and lightly kissed the mound of flesh that held her Venus. Then I slipped past the dampened line of silky hair that tracked the path to vehement valleys of milk and honey. I chose to trek it to the fortune that she held within. And a wealth of liquid gold and wetness met me.

  I allowed the fullness of my tongue to twist and captivate her jeweled pearl, which swelled delicately within the velvet box that kept it. And she was thoroughly luxurious, like a fine diamond set within golden rings.

  Her drenched body was supreme and her lust had been building like the steam that now blanketed the shower’s glass door. And I was eager to write a message within it.

  I dipped and touched my tongue's quill to her body's inkwell, so that she might sample my linguistic sonnet written in the most ancient of romance languages. I took the time to deliver upon her sensual scroll the most beautiful cursive letters and calligraphy that, in time, formed a powerful poem that foretold of our impassioned pleasure. And I tilted my head back and signed my name, as my sonnet began to come to life.

  I felt the mist of water sprinkle my face and with eyes narrowed, I heard her moans bounce louder off the marble that surrounded us. The slick and dampened wetness of her vessel’s most natural lubricant flowed freely and would cause a crescendo of gratification to rise immediately from her larynx.

  And her moans echoed to mix in harmony with her body’s own chant and tantric melody.

  ”Oh that feels so good…I need you to make me cum, baby.”

  Her lips begged ferociously. ”Oh, I want you to fuck me, Silk. Fuck me, baby.”

  I stood and my hands were instantly antagonized, by her urges, to caress her lovely breasts; and to stroke and stoke the fire between her thighs. And she was deeply mesmerized.

  I lifted her up, pinned her against the marble and slid what I had strapped-on slowly inside of Flourish. Her head tilted backwards, as she was immediately filled by the full throng of the dong. And she held on tight, as my sonnet became a song.

  She welcomed me inside as she clinched her legs to encircle me and her body immediately responded, in bliss, to the sweet, short strokes of energy that shot from the arches of my heels to the length of the ruler that filled her. Her hair and breasts bounced in the wetness around us. And our bodies rocked, as sprayed water splashed in rhythm with our conjoined bodies, to dribble and pour streams that collected upon the shower’s tiled floor.

  “Oh, yes…” She began to drive her nails into my back.

  She wanted for us to cum and I wanted her to feel me.

  I turned off the water and carried Flourish into the bedroom, as she kissed me in a wild and passionate haze. I gently laid her on the bed and pounced upon engorged lips, as she opened her legs widely and panted breathlessly for me.

  And I quickly found out that not only was Flourish a freak, but she was also impressively flexible.

  She began grinding my tongue with a stark athleticism that forced her legs into a virtual split. And we began riding on the wave of my diamond's rays.

  She rubbed her breasts together desperately, as I held her lips open and sucked her viciously.

  “Ooh, I’m ‘bout to cum, baby…”

  As we both braced for the silent charge, I quickly gripped and held her legs spread eagle and swelled the bulging head of my broad rod to pass below the bridge of her delta. And as it would slowly disappear to stretch her out inside, she began the chorus of a high-pitched moan.

  She gazed at me with bliss-filled eyes. And though it was all so unexpected, she more-than-willingly entertained the lulled, long strokes of the thick and wet erection. And where her initial cumming had ended, a double dose of my dong’s delight had begun to take over.

  “Yesss…baby…Oh, fuck me.”

  She moaned at the dong’s dessert, like the chocolate lover does to the smoothest mousse. And I gained power with each and every pu
lsing of my pelvis’ persuasive sway.

  The drums of Isis came alive within me, as I’d tracked the path towards and past her most private pleasure sectors. And while I clenched firmly to her thighs which kept her limber legs wide, I touched and fill her inside and could sense swells of her inescapable bursting rushing forward again. And with the storm on the horizon, I quickly and repeatedly banged the sweet spot of her belly’s tambourine, as the drums of ancient and old filled my veins.

  I rocked her, as I became filled with a hulking might and the greater authority of a tribalistic instinct took my spirit over. I rocked her until every single sensory element could feel my love’s infinite command and intuition. We rocked until the higher octaves of her moan’s chorus could match the ritualistic rhythm of my own inner tantric chanting. And its swinging momentum would become more than she could handle as she was catapulted into a state of immeasurable bliss.

  “Yes, I’m cumming! I’m cumming, baby!”

  She pulled at her nipples and caressed breasts that were now veiled with sweat. I let her legs go and rocked forward to kiss and hold her, as she arrived with a reverberated quaking. My spine continued pumping and my hips continued curving within her convulsing, to pulse and continue striking the bell of her gong.

  And with my unrelenting rubbing and steady thrusting, she came again.

  Again and again, I persisted to softly knead and press upon the inner workings of it, while whispers of our beauty and appreciation filled our mind’s eyes together.

  And still she came.

  And with the constant cumming came nirvana.

  The gates of heaven swelled and became open to overflow the purest blend of light and love from her spirit’s most sacred place. Her chorus became angelic and her body let go, as a mix of her and my own wet release flooded and flowed down our legs and glistened, as I slid out and slumped on the bed.

  And then there was complete silence.

  I looked at her and it seemed that she was in a state of shock and utter glee. She was breathing and yet held breathless to the beauty of our rapture.

  “Oh…my…God…” She finally uttered after several minutes.

  And because it was clearly evident that she’d been gratified, I danced with an unbounded glee inside. She rolled onto my chest and patted, in complete awe and amazement, the soaked through sheets that her body’s love left. She kissed me over and over again, with genuine appreciation and I could still feel her chloë throbbing ferociously against my leg.

  “Ohhh, Silk…you are…”

  Her voice trailed off, as she stared out into the darkness of the room. And soon after, she simply let her eyelids drop and began to doze amidst smiles.

  I’d drained her and she was out like a light. But the sound of her serenity and peace-filled breathing was its own remuneration; as it seemed that we were both exhausted of all that our bodies could take of the day.

  “Good night, beautiful.” I whispered.

  I smiled, kissed her forehead and closed my eyes to join her in a drink of yet another night of tranquil sleep.

  4

  “You are a god among gods, my child!”

  “Many will come. Trust the one you seek.”

  A classically, beautiful woman with flowing dark and violet, curly hair hovered with what looked like a gold and glowing harp to deliver her most recent warning.

  I awoke in a cold sweat from a dream that was all so familiar to me. I’d seen this woman in my dreams for as long as I could remember—and this night was no different.

  It was always a dream and yet I was fully conscious as though I’d already been awakened and was simply having a casual conversation with her. The woman materialized with such clarity that I felt like I could reach out and touch her. And her face was one of a stranger’s but all too familiar to me nonetheless.

  When she first appeared, I assumed her to be a figment of my imagination. But over time I decided to rule it out as a logical explanation since she made for good company—especially when I needed solace during the rough patches of my life’s journey. Eventually I began to see her as a glimmer of my own mother’s spirit, since the vision had always emerged as a calming self-assurance when I’d hit rock bottom or when there seemed to be nobody available to pick me up.

  She was my guardian angel—a source of strength that regularly sent words of warning and wisdom to me throughout my life’s journey. And like so many other occasions, she would again make an appearance on this night to deliver to me a message of truth.

  I sat up in the sheets that held me arrested within my disoriented state and looked around to gain my bearings. I tried to make sense of the riddle that she’d just divulged, but found it to be useless. It was too soon to understand the broad meaning of it. So, instead of banging my head against a wall, I resolved to wait for the puzzle to reveal its own answer over time, as it’d always done in the past.

  Slowly but surely, I began to realize that it was still very early in the morning. I remembered that Flourish had left the night before, while I was still sleeping off our little sex-scapade; only to meet up again the next afternoon to get groomed with a manicure, pedicure and massage at the spa. I even got to sit with my aunt at the hospital and to check with the nurses to make sure that they were changing and bathing her regularly—but not before paying on her medical bills.

  With so much progress in such a short amount of time, I was slowly but surely warming up to the whole idea of Sappho International and what the organization stood for. It was a dream come true and I was still filled with gratitude and riding high on the euphoria of living this new life.

  However, as I walked to the kitchen for a glass of water and stepped out onto the balcony for a bit, I couldn’t help but continue to seriously think about this early morning dream that seemed more real than reality itself. Who was this woman who kept appearing? And what was the significance of events that was calling for her emergence now?

  With everyone being transparent and forthright about all of the intentions and representations of Sappho Intl as an organization, I couldn’t see why I would lack trust in this situation.

  I guess, time would only tell.

  I decided to stick to my resolve and to return back to my bed to get some more sleep.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  As our E-class Mercedes limo entered the black iron gates and rolled up the circular driveway to the gi-normous North Miami Beach estate, I couldn’t help but continue to study the distinct differences between the two striking women that sat before me.

  Flourish and PrimaDonna sat side-by-side within plush leather seats, as we pulled up to the second location where I was scheduled to become acquainted with my team. And while they chatted amongst themselves, I’d taken the moment to observe them behind the tint of my sunglasses.

  Although Flourish and I’d been intimate, she was a conquest that was already conquered. Not to say that she was expendable, but that she simply wasn’t a challenge anymore. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Flourish was saucy, daring and probably seen as untouchable to many admirers. But with the chase removed, the cracks in her statue could be easily seen.

  I could already tell that after one night of laying it down, she was the type to fall madly in love and become viciously possessive. I could see it in her eyes as she flirted unceasingly, the day before, and uncontrollably stared at me throughout our limo ride. She was definitely the stalker type if I allowed her to get too attached.

  So I quickly realized that it was up to me to handle her with kid gloves from now on. I’d decided that she would be someone that I could trust to kick it with and have a few laughs—a friend with occasional benefits. To see Flourish as anything more than swirls, would allow the relationship to spiral wildly out of control. And with so much money on the line, I just couldn’t afford that to happen.

  PrimaDonna, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with and would be a more worthy advisory. She was a walking holiday—a goddess Venus de Milo—and I wanted her badly.
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  From the moment I laid eyes on her, I found her to be a welcomed challenge because I knew that she wouldn’t be seduced easily. And as an admitted Lothario, I must confess that I do love a challenge.

  Unlike the casual and carefree nature of Flourish, PrimaDonna was majestic without being pretentious. She carried herself with a grand and untouchable air, not unlike the queen who moves across a chess board with undeterred grace and sovereign measure. PrimaDonna was so self-assured, that much of her communication was short and sweet. And she held a cool directness that made me want to chase her—and for her, I would.

  But I was well aware that this chase would be no walk in the park. It would be the ultimate chess game. So far, she’d given no indication of any type of interest in me. In fact, her only acknowledgement of my presence, had been my new role and position within the company. But with the right moves, a little bit of timing, and a lot of luck, I was pretty sure I could win this queen over.

  “This is Playhouse No. 7.” PrimaDonna announced.

  Only when she began speaking did I realize that we’d begun walking across the small courtyard to the large, solid mahogany door that was the main entryway of a beautiful, old Spanish Revival. The two-story Spanish Mediterranean style mansion provided the foreground to a highly secluded bay. And the charm and grandeur of its thickly plastered, mandarin stucco and red-clay roof tile made even the hairs on my arms tingle.

  Yet, though my mind’s eye reveled in the adobe-styled trimmings of its old world elegance, my body reflected total indifference.

  We’d arrived and I wanted to reflect a controlled and coolly composed first impression to my team. And as we walked together, Flourish began to detail the estate.

  “Out of the nine training and operations hubs that we have globally, this is the one of the newest within the United States. The team that’s been living at this Miami hub has been in employment since right before the Cloud9 event that was last October. Most of the team not only assists with club or event management and support, but also provide entertainment and private shows for our online video feeds to subscribing Sapphians. Instead of calling them escorts we call them crowns.”