Behind The Mirror (The Chronicles of Enhanced Males Book 3) Page 2

- I’m sure we will.

  She says that, turns around, and leaves the bar with her friends. I stay alone at the counter. Yup, it seems I’m bound to get wasted tonight.

  Our past affairs and relationships could often affect and ruin current. Especially if we choose to talk about our ex partners in front of our current dates. Our future lovers don't like to hear about our past experiences whether they're good or bad. Check out the Author's Cut to see what would happen between Mark and Brittany if he didn't mention his ex.

  It could be downloaded at: http://enhancedmales.com

  ***

  The next few days, I continue getting wasted. I’m letting myself go again. I don’t exercise. My diet is irregular and poor. As if there’s another Mark inside me, just waiting to loosen up and go wild. The other Mark behind the mirror, who keeps throwing a wrench into the gears of my success.

  Everyone’s been giving me strange looks ever since I came back from suspension. Ridicule, sympathy, disgust, even fear. I can see it all in their eyes. Even Laura, who’s always been there for me, now just greets me coldly, brings me an aspirin, coffee, and the papers. She responds to my attempts to spark up a conversation with sour smiles and excuses why she needs to leave the office as soon as possible.

  These days, I usually spend the first two hours at work struggling with a hangover. I stare at the screen, unable to work, drawing circles in my notebook, sometimes until I rip the paper with my pen. After the aspirin kicks in, I start holding meetings, making phone calls. I’m able to function normally until two, which is when the hangover makes a comeback; it’s usually worse than the one in the morning, and I can’t wait to come home in the afternoon, when I usually curl up on the couch like a hedgehog, in absolute darkness.

  Worst of all is that the project is stuck as well. What we have marked as the greatest threat to our plan is now coming true. Too many clubs are not willing to cooperate, are being difficult regarding the contracts, or asking for too much money. I’m trying to get things rolling somehow. I call all agents, club owners, and lawyers I can get in touch with, but, I guess, once I realize I can’t persuade them, I begin to sound too nervous, and they just want to get rid of me. They promise they’d call, see what they can do…

  Patience. This takes patience. And, right now, I haven’t got any.

  I call Greg.

  - Hey, Mark. Haven’t heard from you in a while. What’s going on?

  - Hello, Greg. I’m sorry. I’ve been tied up lately. Anyway…We should talk about the project.

  - Shoot.

  - The clubs, most of them are not willing to cooperate.

  - Hm. I know. Michael Coppiani hinted something the other day. How serious is it?

  - Pretty serious. I mean, I’m doing my best to solve it, but if I was working with my old team… It would be much easier.

  - Yeah. Listen. Are you free for dinner? It’s hard to discuss this over the phone.

  - Um, yeah. I haven’t got any plans. When and where?

  - Great, see you at my place at 7.30. Just note down the address.

  Kolba lives on Long Island, in a rustic gray-stone house, with two small pointy-roof towers in the corners. Although it’s one of the smallest houses in the neighborhood, it must be worth a fortune. The doorbell continues resonating long after I have moved my finger from the button. No one’s answering. The imitation of cathedral bells rings again, with echoes getting quieter and disappearing in the hallway.

  - I’m coming! – I hear a woman’s voice coming from the inside of the house.

  Kiara opens the door. She’s wearing a purple bathrobe, way too short, and is naked underneath, judging by the clearly outlined curves. She leans in and kisses me on the cheek, pressing her firm breasts against me.

  - You’re here, and I’m not ready yet. You know what women are like.

  She doesn’t wait for an answer, but just swiftly turns around and walks back in.

  - Please, come in. Greg’s in the kitchen. – I can almost see her ass underneath the edge of the robe.

  I first look down in order to check if they could see my erection through the pants, and then follow her in.

  Greg’s leaning against the counter. Struggling with a bottle of wine. He gives me a broad smile when he sees me.

  - Mark. Welcome. Sit down, please, while I deal with this cork. Of all the bottles in California, I had to bring the messed up one.

  - Could I try?

  - Please. I’ve already broken a sweat. I’ll have to take a shower again.

  I try to open the bottle, but the cork won’t budge. It’s just crumbling at the top, leaving less and less space for the corkscrew.

  - It’s no use.

  - That’s ok, Mark. You’re already sweating, too. We’ll drink something else. Too bad, though, I was really in the mood for some Sonoma wine.

  Kiara joins us a bit later, wearing a little black dress. I’m pretty sure that, just like in the case of the bathrobe, she’s wearing nothing underneath the dress. Luckily, the table hides my erection.

  We enjoy our dinner, having a pleasant chat. Kiara is flirting with Greg all the time, but also with me. Greg doesn’t seem to mind at all. At one point, he turns to her.

  - I’ll have to ask you to excuse us for switching from these pleasant topics to the not so pleasant ones.

  - That’s ok. I love listening to men having business conversations.

  He kisses her hand, and then turns to me.

  - So, problems.

  - Yeah. Just like we supposed in the beginning. The rivals and the East Coast. I’ve told you, if only my team was complete.

  - Don’t worry about that. I’ve mentioned Coppiani, right? Well, he told me that Joey Mancuso is one of the guys who are pulling the strings at the League Committee. Joey is a close friend of the League Commissioner.

  I’m not sure where Greg is going with this, but I can see that he’s smiling, so I let him go on.

  - Also, Joey owes me big time, and I still haven’t asked him to return the favor.

  - Can you be sure that he’ll return the favor? I mean, considering what kind of world we live in today. And what kind of people we live among.

  - Oh yeah, he will. – he gives me a mysterious smile and toasts.

  Around 11.30, I get up, ready to go home.

  - Leaving so soon? – Kiara asks.

  - I have to, it’s already late. Could I just ask you to call a cab for me?

  - No way. – says Greg. – You’ll sleep in the guest room. I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.

  - Oh, no, I don’t want to bother you.

  - I insist.

  Greg gets up from the table and takes another bottle of wine.

  - Which means we can finish another one – he winks.

  ***

  The guest room is a spacious room with a large bed, a desk, and a massive closet. It’s got its own bathroom. The guest room also shares a wall with the bedroom. I realize that thanks to the loud moans Kiara lets out as Greg fucks her. Some twenty minutes later, he growls loudly and she squeaks. They both giggle for a while, and after that, everything’s silent. Long after the two of them are done, I’m still unable to go to sleep. I even think of calling a cab and leaving, but that would be really stupid of me. I lie still and fall asleep just before it dawns.

  In the morning, I go downstairs. Greg’s ready to go and eating an apple. He waves at me and goes out. Kiara is once again naked underneath the bathrobe. She’s leaning against the counter, drinking orange juice.

  - Did you sleep well? – she asks.

  - More than well. – I lie.

  - The air in here does you good. You should come by more often.

  She leans in and once again touches my cheek with her full lips. Her body radiates warmth. She slides her hand across my chest and brushes her breasts against my upper arm, giving me a boner again.

  On our way back, Greg does all the talking, and I just briefly agree, although I neither listen to him, nor hear what he’s saying. All I can
think about is Kiara. I think about her the whole day. Even when I go out in the evening.

  At the bar, I order whiskey, but I don’t drink it. I occasionally take a tiny sip, but I don’t want to get drunk. All my senses are wide awake, and I want to keep them that way. The excitement in my crotch tingles like a thousand tiny needles and keeps me alert. A few steps away, I see a beautiful short-haired African-American. She’s standing there with two friends. She sways seductively as she speaks. She spots me and looks away. I keep looking at her. She looks at me a few more times. And then she smiles and continues looking at me.

  I come up to her and spark up a conversation. I don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying. The most important thing is to extinguish the fire in me that’s been burning since last night. And she reminds me of Kiara. That’s all that matters. We say goodbye to her friends and stay alone. We’re dancing to the smooth rhythm of the music coming from the jukebox and I’m already pressing my lips against her neck and nibbling her ear. She pushes me away, smiling. As if she’s telling me, take it slow, no need to rush. And the volcano inside me is just about to erupt.

  We can’t go to her place, so I rent us a room. In there, we don’t make love, we break the bed apart. She’s sticking to me like a leech, all sweaty and shiny. Her body’s slim but robust, with broad shoulders, making her head look small. She tilts it back and forth, passionately, as she rides me and sinks her nails into my chest. The pleasant pain makes me moan loudly.

  I turn her around and grab her big beautiful ass with my hands. I stick it inside her as my mind floats off to Long Island, to Greg’s guest room. I slowly tiptoe through the hall, towards the bedroom. There, on the bed, I see Kiara. Sleeping uncovered. Moonlight shining on the perfect line of her back and her heart-shaped ass. My hand follows the trail of light. She wakes up and looks at me drowsily.

  - Mark?

  She turns around and I keep squeezing her firm breasts as she presses her body against mine, gently rubbing herself.

  - Where’s Greg? – I ask.

  She replies by putting her forefinger on my lips, and then pulls me closer. She turns around again, pressing her ass and her wet pussy against my bare stomach. She starts impaling herself on my cock, letting out soft, short sighs. I look around, expecting Greg to walk in through the door any second. The idea that someone could walk in on us makes me so turned on I cum in several uncontrollable waves.

  Underneath me, surrogate Kiara is moaning quietly. The athletically built, short-haired girl cums with her head buried in the pillow, shaking like a leaf. My sperm is splashed all over her back. Like pearls on her dark skin. She turns around and gives me a kittenish look. Only then do I realize she actually looks nothing like Kiara.

  She gives me her phone number before we part. I watch her as she gets into the cab. She waves through the window. I stand in the street for a while. I hold the piece of paper with her number in my palm, and then crumple it and throw it away.

  I decide to walk home. I need some air. I buy a hot dog along the way, but after only one bite, my stomach gets tied into a knot. I feel awful for imagining Kiara. What kind of a man am I? I can’t control my urges, like I’m a teenager. A fucking hormone bomb. Another sleepless night and a guilty conscience.

  ***

  The next day is all about work. All I get from Greg is an SMS: I’m real busy. I think Mancuso will prove to be valuable. Talk to you later.

  Sometime around noon, my phone starts ringing. I instantly break out in sweat. What if it’s Kiara? I couldn’t do that to Greg.

  - Yes?

  - Mark?

  It’s Valerie. The knots in my stomach suddenly get even tighter.

  - Hey, Valerie. To, um, to what do I owe this pleasure?

  - Well, I’ve still got your number. – she laughs. – I’m sorry to be bothering you at work.

  - No, it’s fine. I’m glad you called.

  No sound on the other end.

  - Valerie?

  - Um. I was wondering if you might want to grab a drink after work. I trust you were just as surprised as I was the other night, when we met.

  - I’m not going to lie, I was.

  - So I was wondering if we could see each other, talk, catch up. If you want to, of course.

  Now I’m silent.

  - Mark?

  - Sure. – oh, fuck, I think to myself. – See ya.

  - Great. Bye, Mark.

  We meet in front of the company building around 5. I see her crossing the street. She’s wearing a floral dress. Smiling and flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her irresistible tic.

  - Hello, Mark. – she kisses me on the cheek.

  - Hey, Valerie. It’s nice to see you again.

  We go to a little bistro nearby, where we find a table away from the crowd. All the while, I’m trying really hard not to mention our relationship. The way it ended wasn’t pretty. At least not from where I was standing. I suffered for a long time. It took me quite a while to forget her and move on. I think I have succeeded, but I’m not sure if a conversation on the subject would reopen the wound, the one I’m convinced has healed.

  - It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

  - Just a couple of days. – I joke.

  I listen to her laughter, the one I thought I’d be listening to for the rest of my life.

  - How are you, Mark?

  - Fine. Great.

  - Really?

  - Yeah, why wouldn’t I be fine?

  - I know you well and I can see when you’re not fine.

  - Everything’s perfect, trust me.

  I guard myself with laughter.

  - How about you, Valerie? How are you?

  - Fine.

  - Really?

  - You know me too well. – she smiles.

  I smile, too, because I know what her reply means. Otherwise we wouldn’t be sitting in this bistro.

  - You and Bryan. I mean, I would never have guessed.

  - Why?

  - Don’t get me wrong, he’s… Just… Um… You’re smart, creative, you set things in motion.

  - And he?

  - He halts them. Pulls them down. Like a stone tied to one’s feet.

  She smiles and gets lost in thought again. She’s looking across the street.

  - The part with the stone… It’s like you’ve read my mind.

  I try to feign indifference.

  - Aren’t you going to ask me how things are going with him, Mark? You’re not interested?

  - I thought everything was fine between you two. I mean, you’re engaged, right?

  - We are. But… I’m no longer sure that’s a good idea.

  - He’s harassing you? – I swallow a lump.

  - No, no. Where did you get that? Bryan is… Ok. It’s just that I think I’ve made a rash decision. Lately, he’s just been making me feel trapped.

  - Maybe it’s not him. Maybe the concept of a stable relationship, which is what men expect from you, is simply not what you want.

  - You’re not being fair, Mark.

  - Sorry.

  I’ve never liked seeing her serious and concerned. That’s when she wrinkles her chin and gets a tiny crease between her brows. I decide to put a smile back on her face. I steer the course of our conversation towards some brighter topics. Soon, the little bistro is resonating with her laughter.

  Some two hours later, we say goodbye with a warm handshake and a kiss on the cheek. She floats away the same way she came floating in. Valerie. The fiery, elusive Creole.

  ***

  In the days after our meeting, I no longer think about Kiara; I think of Valerie. But without the usual feeling of disquiet. I feel calm, especially now that everything is back on track work-wise. I take advantage of this inner peace and focus on myself again. I give up going out for a while, and mostly spend my evenings exercising. I sometimes go to the gym or to the movies.

  Along with the standard exercises, I gradually start doing the more advanced ones. Among the most efficient exercises for
tissue growth, especially in terms of girth, are the double jelqs. The basic idea is similar to the one in the regular dry jelqing exercises, it’s just that in this case you focus on two sections of the penis instead of one. Pretty convenient, especially when you don’t have enough free time for exercising, because in half as much time you need for the dry jelqs you get twice as intense workout.

  I do double jelqs instead of dry jelqs, usually in two sets of 10 reps, after the regular stretching and wet jelqing.

  For this exercise, you need your penis to be about 50% erect. You hold the base of your penis with one hand, by making an underhand OK sign with your thumb and forefinger. Then use the other hand to hold the penis about half an inch above the other hand, using an overhand OK sign.

  You simultaneously move both hands upwards and count to five, until you slide your upper hand over the glans. Then put your hands back to the starting position and do the rep again.

  You can begin by doing 10 of these 5-second reps, in between other exercises.

  I’m doing it a bit differently tonight. I do 5 reps in between the stretching and wet jelqing sessions, but I move my hands slowly, counting to 10 per rep.