The Wrong Type of Seduction

15 Val’s Special Delivery

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

15: Val’s Special Delivery


Val strolled Midtown’s streets reflecting on how she used Matt to get off. The sex had been incredible. He had allowed her to take what she needed and she could still feel his body…rough and addictively satisfying. Why do I feel like this? I’ve used men for sex before! Why am I guilty now? Was it because it was so good? Because I want more?

Absently she glanced at her surroundings barely aware of the young teens passing her and laughing, or the older man checking her out as he talked on his phone. All her mind could remember was how those large rough hands expertly played her like she were one of his instruments. Each powerful thrust still echoed in her body and she wanted to scream at the images that kept swimming in her head making her body a live wire.

Instead, she pulled on the training from her childhood and remained the picture of a classy woman. “Classy”. She snorted as she remembered kissing Matt in a public restroom, fucking him over a desk, and on a cold tile floor. Then there was all the shit she did to stroke her ex’s ego…. Yeah, she was all kinds of class. Her mother would roll over in her grave. Probably had. And her father, her sweet father would just laugh and say, “You’ve earned whatever mischief you’ve caused.”

She missed them both. But that was years ago. And her new life didn’t allow for her to harp on the past. Yet what was she doing with Matt? Pushing him away because of her past.

Domenic was just that, her past. He no longer dictated what future she wanted for herself. So why not indulge in Matt? Why not let him have his way with her?

Because that was how Domenic did things. He took and took and took until all that was left was a shell…

She stopped outside an art gallery when a sculpture caught her eye. It stood in the window, a cold twisted metal form that would reflect her soul if it wasn’t already shattered to pieces. What little morality she had died years ago. That’s how she knew she could end it with Matt without care of his feelings. She had the power and yet… Yes, she should end it with him. Things would only turn bad if she didn’t. Bad for him.

He had so much promise. But if he insisted…

Staring at that lifeless sculpture, she remembered the first time her ex-husband brought another man to their bed. Val had been too stunned to refuse. Domenic had shamed her into fucking the other man while he watched. She had been so naive back then and he used that against her like a weapon.

While Matt might be different, there were too many things she could never tell him. Her life would always be stained by the things Domenic commanded her to do. Sex in an office was nothing when her husband had once torn her evening gown in front of guests for his amusement, making her a nude spectacle at what was supposed to be an elegant dinner party.

All of her nightmares were gone and buried. She would not wallow in those memories, because she had been luckier than many women who suffered from worse. Yes, her past had forged her iron shell, but she had nothing else to be ashamed of. Why should she care if Matt knew her darkest secrets? Maybe it would finally make him run from her. Because it could also be used against me. Knowledge was a powerful weapon, she knew that first hand. Knowledge gave her the strength to walk away from anything that harmed her now. Nothing would hold her back.

“Like what you see?” A man’s voice asked as he stepped up beside her. He was an older, refined man, well put together.

“The sculpture it beautiful,” she said nodding. “I’m surprised to find Ye Jun’s work outside of Singapore.”

“You know Ye Jun?” The man sounded surprised.

“Not personally, but his work is very sought after in certain circles. Some of my clients have paid thousands for something half that size.”

“Then you know how much that piece is going for.” The man sounded excited like he found a potential buyer. He must have been the gallery owner or associate.

“Yes, and I also know some people who would kill to have it. Which makes me wonder how a small gallery such as this actually got a hold of one,” she said smiling up at the man finally who paled visibly. The look of terror on his face, made her chuckle. “Do not worry,” she reached up and stroked his smoothly shaven cheek. “Your secrets are your own.” Her thumb caressed his lower lip as his eyes widened. “But if I were you, I would not show stolen goods in the window for all to see.” She winked and patted his cheek before sauntering off reminiscing on the most mind-blowing sex.

}~{}~{

For six days, Val found peace and quiet with no signs of Matt. But that was because she didn’t give him her number or tell him where she worked during the week. When Friday came, she got a lot of work done at the foundation and even got a hold of Dr. Earnest who was too busy with her newest psychology book to be bothered with petty things as she called it. Val kept her composure and reminded the other woman that she had some duties to perform. But what she really wanted to tell the bitch was that there were real women that needed her help. And most of the people who would read that stupid book weren’t the people who could benefit from it the most.

Even as she was glad Matt had been nowhere to be found, she felt a hunger…

No, no, I’m not craving him. I barely know him. Yes, she knew the surface Matt that was musically gifted, generous, and as charming as a puppy, but getting to know the relentlessly cunning Matt was so much more fun. Not fun!

She was berating herself for thinking about him again and again when Tina came bouncing up to her in the lounge area that day.

“Val! Val!” She sang.

Was it Matt? Was he here? She perked up, and then cursed herself for feeling glee. Schooling her features and taking a deep breath, she smiled pleasantly at the excitable woman. “What’s wrong, Tina?”

Tina’s hand shook as she held up a small package. “For you!”

Val took it frowning. She looked at the writing across the top. “To Val Braun From Your Biggest Fan Matthew Delarosa. PS don’t forget our-” Val groaned and looked up at the giddy woman. “It’s not a date.”

“So you two… He seemed to really watch you the other day, and… Oh Val he’s so cute! And talented! And rich! Why not?” The woman asked pouting as Val continued to shake her head ‘no’.

“I don’t want to date him.”

“Oh woman!” Tina squealed throwing up her plump arms. “Did you know that he got Nancy Mazur, one of most influential women in the city to donate ten thousand dollars.”

Nancy? Donated… Val was more than impressed with that. Nancy was not easy to pry money from. The women worked too hard killing off her rich husbands to get it.

“And since Matt’s involvement, we’ve been getting more sponsors. Do you know how many people would die to have him? And you have to play hard to get?” Tina screwed up her face in annoyance. “I… I can’t talk to you right now.” She stomped off. Then turned in the middle of the room and stomped back. “Open it.” The woman demanded on the stamp of her foot. Then she tapped that foot impatiently glaring at Val.

Val held back her amusement before opening the brown padded envelop. When she dumped the contents into her lap, she found a large plastic card with a lanyard attached. The backstage pass.

Tina squealed. “You’re getting into the concert tomorrow?” She snatched up the pass like a giddy teenager and hopped around. “I so hate you!” She screamed sounding more like a cheer than an actual declaration of hate.

Val opened her mouth to tell Tina she could go in her place when the thought sickened her. She was up on her feet and gripping the pass in her fingers. She tugged just enough to take the pass back. “You are forty-years-old, my lady, act your age.” Val demanded.

“Oh, if I was younger…” She shivered. “Val, please, please just…please give him a chance for me. And then tell me all the juicy details. I want to live vicariously though you.”

“Tina. You’re a sweet woman. But I don’t kiss and tell.” It was improper of a lady. Then she cursed the voice of her mother that still dictated parts of her life.

“Fine. Fine. Just…give him a chance. He seems like a really good guy.”

Good guy…for a moment, Val doubted that but she couldn’t put her finger on why. Was that her past screwing with her? Was it how he chased her down in the park? Cornered her at work? How he fucked her rough against a desk? Instead of the thought making her want to run, it made her want to know more…which was dangerous.

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

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