Chapter 2: Reuniting

Adrienne and I rarely sleep in the same bed, and last night wasn't any different. When I awoke the next morning, she had already left. A note had been taped to the fridge: LOVE YOU! With a big smiley face drawn underneath. Just as I'd poured myself some breakfast, I heard my phone ringing in another room. I almost thought it wouldn't be worth the effort of getting up and searching, but I decided to get off my lazy butt and answer it.

"Probably Rob wanting a booty call," I muttered to myself. Yes, I can be a grouch in the morning, even if my boyfriend is calling.

The screen said it was Marcos. "What's up, Mr. Agent?"

"Felicia! Get yourself dressed. I need you down at the Fairfox Studio pronto if you want a job today."

My exhausted mind tried to stop the whirlwind blowing around in my head. "Fairfox? Why does that sound familiar? You mean the Buzz Mag shoot?"

"That's the one. If you want it, they want you."

Adrienne was supposed to be doing that this morning, I realized. I glanced over to the fridge. The smiley face on the note was looking awfully smiley right now. Adrienne had passed it up so I could have it. I felt both annoyed and grateful at having such an awesome friend. How could I not accept her gesture of kindness?

One nice thing about being a model is that you don't have to show up to work looking good. Someone will be there to do your makeup. Someone will have nice clothes for you to wear. Someone will do your hair. It's really a nice perk. I showed up to the studio five minutes early (I usually like to arrive twenty to thirty minutes early) and got ready.

The shoot went very well. I was in a perky mood by the time I'd been dolled up and slipped into my negligee. Buzz magazine was a lot like Esquire and FHM and Maxim, but was more up-and-coming than well-established. Kind of like me. The photographer was part slimeball, part passably respectful, and the whole operation went smoothly. I wasn't the cover girl, they were shooting pictures of me for an article called Twelve Tips to Get Your Girl to Do Anal. They had to get a picture of me looking disgusted, curious, in bliss, and about ten other poses of various enthusiasm. So we ended up spending nearly an hour taking three hundred or more shots until the magazine editor was satisfied. He was very complimentary. As I was leaving the set, the cover model showed up. I'd seen her before. Eastern European glamour model. Yanka something. Really big over in the Czech Republic before bringing her talents to the U.S. Her agent walked beside her, talking on his phone. She had a vapid stare that seemed to take in almost nothing but the air in front of her. And ... she was gorgeous.

"All right, Yanka's here, clear the set," the editor yelled, mostly at me and the photographer.

The agent got off his phone to help out, and that's when I got a good look at him. My jaw, had it been made of rubber bands, would have hit the floor. The man was Damien. My old lover from summer camp. Damien Santos. The man I'd given my virginity to. Damien Michael Rivera Santos. The man who'd left me at the big dance and broken my heart. He was here, right in front of me, looking at me, recognizing me. He was dressed like a hotshot actor and he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

"Oh my—Felicia!" he reached out and hugged me. I didn't even know how I got into his arms. Had someone pushed me? His arms wrapped around my back and pulled me tight. He smelled incredible. His style of dress reminded me a lot of Marcos. It was the way all the best agents dressed. Dress for success, just like all the books out there tell you to do. He held me for a long time, and finally I recovered enough to return the embrace. So many feelings bombarded me in those few seconds that I almost fell in love all over again. This was the man I'd told myself I would marry. I had given him my most treasured possession to him. He had shown me ecstasy that very few had duplicated. Damien Santos.

The cover model, Yanka, if that was even her name, stood staring at us with an odd expression on her face. "Damien, who is this? I have to get on!" Her voice reminded me of many models I worked with, girls who had three moods: unhappy, mad, and annoyed. Spoiled bitches who think they run the world.

"Relax, baby," Damien told her as he smiled at me, "This is an old friend. We go way back. I didn't know she'd gotten into modeling too." He looked me up and down, appreciating what he saw. "Though I can't say I'm at all surprised."

Suddenly, as if realizing how important his client was, he looked back at her. "Go on up there, baby, and I'll make sure everything goes smoothly, but don't be alarmed if I disappear for a second so I can catch up with an old friend. Okay?" He gave her a small envelope and saw her onto the set.

When he came back, he was beaming at me. He took my hands and held them. His face, tan and smooth—making his light blue eyes really shine—had only gotten more handsome. I loved his hair, richly brown and well-styled. He was a very good looking man, strong and charming, as I'd always known him.

"Damn, I really can't believe you landed in modeling!" he chuckled.

"And I can't believe you're a blood-sucking agent!" I thought about playfully punching him in the arm, but decided against it. This wasn't the time or place to be flirty. My professional image was far too important. Besides, along with the fresh feelings of affection were the memories of my heart being crushed as I'd watched Damien walk off the dance floor with Ashley Biederman. Damien had destroyed me for years. How did I so quickly hug him? The knee-jerk reaction to love and forgive him had been awfully strong.

Damien licked his lips before he spoke. It gave me the impression he was nervous. Even his grin seemed a little hesitant. I suppressed a smile. "Listen," he said, "obviously I'm busy, but I'd really like to catch up with you. Why not dinner sometime this week? I'd love to treat you if you're willing."

I was more than willing to have dinner. If for no other reason than to hear an apology. Would I need to tell Rob? No ... no, of course not. Besides, we hardly had time to go out with his busy schedule. Before I'd even fully thought it through, I'd accepted Damien's invitation and set a time for Friday evening at 7PM.

"I'll pick you up," he told me.

I jumped in my car and took off feeling more excited about my future than I'd been in weeks. At home, I went all out for dinner and made a garden chicken salad. I didn't know for sure if Adrienne would be home to eat it or not, but if she was, I wanted to show her how much she'd done for me. I waited for almost a half an hour before eating without her. But it wasn't long after I'd started when a knock came at the door.

I looked through the peephole and saw Rob standing with flowers. I admit it, I was disappointed. I'd hoped Damien hadn't been able to wait to see me. "Oh my gosh!" I said when I opened the door. "You surprised me!"

Rob stood in the doorway wearing a tight Weezer t-shirt and fashionable jeans. He's a runway model with a baby face and a tall build, but he doesn't act prissy, and never effeminate. Believe me, it's rare. He's just a casual guy who got lucky in modeling. Oh, and he likes surprising me. I took the flowers and set them in an empty vase as he showed himself in. "Do you want some chicken salad?" I asked him.

"Sure," he said, seating himself.

We ate and talked. I told him I'd run into an old boyfriend today at a shoot, and Rob seemed interested, but not jealous. "Is this the guy you told me about? The one who took your cherry?"

I nodded because my mouth was full of tomato.

Rob gave me a nice smile. He has great teeth. I don't know what makes them so much better than anyone else, but I really like them. "Any old feelings come back?"

"A little bit, but more old hurt than anything," I said after I took a drink of water. Rob and I had been dating for about three months, long enough for me to know some of his silly habits. He was a picky eater, and hated peas. While listening to me, he was going through his greens with a fork combing out all the little green balls and moving them to a pile on the side of his plate. "Sorry about the peas," I added.

He smiled and shrugged. "Do you think you'll sleep with him? Or at least be tempted to?"

I had thought about that, too, and wasn't sure about the answer. But I was leaning toward no. Rob knew Adrienne and I often had sex, and he didn't mind. I wouldn't mind sharing him with A.D., but she was strictly females + Ben only. Rob had his little flings, too, but no one he brought to bed with us, and always when he was out on business in Europe and Asia doing runway work. Lucky bastard. We always talked about our flings if we had them, it was an unspoken rule. Rob's casualness about it made me like him more.

"I don't think so," was my answer. "I don't have the desire to open up old wounds."

We chatted as we finished dinner. Our conversations rarely went deep, which was how I knew this wasn't a permanent thing. But it was nice, and Rob always made good company. He helped me with dishes and then we watched an old classic. Before Rob, I'd never watched any old films, but he loved Cagney, Grant, and Chaplin. He called them the big three. So we watched The Philadelphia Story. Rob had his arm around me, and I let him play with my breast during the film. As it wound down, I stroked his cock until his jeans permanently bulged. His breathing grew more ragged, and the moment the film ended I leaned over and unbuckled his belt so I could get at him. I pulled down his briefs and his dick whipped out, slapping me in the nose.

Rob snorted into my neck as I giggled, rubbing my poor nose. Rob's manhood wasn't the biggest or the thickest, but it was respectable and flawless. He kept it shaved for his work when he had to do shoots in his underwear for Abercrombie or someone like that. I liked a shaved penis. It made blowjobs much more enjoyable. I teased the tip of his cock with my tongue, swirling around the head and flicking his slit with it. Rob leaned back his head and massaged my neck as I worked.

"Damn, Felicia, you're so good."

"Mmhmm," I said as I took the whole head in my mouth, grazing it slightly with my teeth and pulling another moan from him. "You better say that."

I bobbed my head up and down over his meaty helmet, using one of my hands to cup his balls gently. My other hand went up his shirt and played with his nipples. Rob loved that. I used my fingernails to gently scratch behind his balls as I went deeper. It wasn't too difficult to take him all the way, so I slowly worked my way down until his shaft was completely in my mouth, tickling the back of my throat. Then I went up and down quickly, slowly, then faster, changing the speed and pressure I put on his manhood.

Rob never became forceful, he was always content to lay back and enjoy. While I thought of this as a nice change from Adrienne or Ben and Dawn, I still preferred a lover who really took charge—another reason I knew we wouldn't be together in the long run. Soon I got down on my knees in between his legs. He spread them wide to give me access and I took him down to the root again, running my fingernails along his thighs. They quivered for me and I knew he was close. I brought my lips back to the head, keeping his little helmet just inside and ran my tongue all over that and his shaft.

"Fuck!" he said, and his body jerked. "Shit!"

"Cum in my mouth, baby," I told him, kneeling complacently with my mouth open and tongue out. "Paint my mouth with your sperm."

Rob leaned forward and jerked himself hard. He liked to pinch it off to build up the pressure. I waited for him with a big smile. He released his torrent of cum and let it fly. The first stream missed my mouth and went in my nose and eyes. The second sprayed a little moustache on me, and the third landed in my mouth. I took him back in my mouth and sucked any remaining cum out of him, then let him watch as I used my finger to pull the rest of his jizz into my mouth. Then I swallowed. He tasted good, not Ben good, but still a good flavor. Men who kept themselves in shape always tasted decent, except buff frat boys whose diet consists of pizza and beer.

"You're the only one who does that for me," he told me, kissing my forehead tenderly. "You're the best."

I beamed at his compliment and took him back in my mouth, working his shaft again until he got hard. Then I took off my pants and underwear and slid his cock into my pussy. I rode him on the couch facing him, leaning into him so I could kiss him. We started out slow and tender, making love with both our bodies and our lips, but I thought about Damien and something ignited in me. I rose my ass up in the air and slammed his dick into my cunt. "Fuck me hard, Rob," I ordered him. "Fuck me til I cum!"

Rob obeyed, gripping my hips and pulling them down until my skin slapped against his, over and over again in a fast paced tempo. I shoved my tongue into his mouth and let him suck on it hard until I thought he'd rip my frenum. Then I shoved his face into my tits, pulling my hips up so he could fuck me at an even quicker pace. I had two orgasms like that, squealing wildly into the top of the couch and dripping my own cum down Rob's shaft and off his balls. "Oh yeah!" Rob yelled.

I felt his shaft contract inside me and my pussy grew warm. I reached down and coaxed everything from his balls, kissing him tenderly again. The orgasms had been good, but nothing compared to what Adrienne did to me on a regular basis. And the realization hit me that I'd been thinking about Damien while making love to my boyfriend. What did that mean? I pushed the thought away for now and tried to focus on Rob, whose cum dripped with mine from my pussy down my legs.

Rob and I went to bed together that night, but he was gone when I woke. This was normal, as his schedule was much busier than mine, and I didn't have any shoots that day. I thought about going out and buying a new outfit for my date—er, dinner—with Damien, but decided against it. Money wasn't exactly flowing in at the moment. Winter tended to be a little more slow because most shoots had to be indoors, and most of the spring catalogs were already booked up. I didn't need to grocery shop or run any errands, so I made up my mind to get some deep house cleaning done early.