“You ought to be sleeping at legitimate hours.”

A private message from Chuck, 221 am.

“Trust me, I wish I could, but my body is convinced it’d rather be doing something else but sleep. There’s hardly anything I can do!”

“There’s only one thing you should be doing at this hour. And it shouldn’t involve being online.”

I paused and smiled to myself.

Chuck is the assistant coach to the tennis team I joined at the country club. He was nothing like the rest of the eager male morons trying to flaunt their wealth there. Instead, he was witty, funny and just about the perfect gentlemen. His tennis days have served him well with those remarkable abs. In fact, he has such a handsome face that it is difficult to deny. Tall, tanned and toned. Very difficult to ignore, I’d got to admit.

“You’re right…guess I could do with a guy now…”

“Honey, what were you thinking? I do mean supper! :) ”

I’ve had my fair share of bad boys. Being in the modeling industry meant it was easy to get who and what I wanted and I’ve always been attracted especially to the bad boys; the kind of men who’ll take you there and then, rough, primitive and raw. And then there’s Chuck. Chuck’s just…different. He’s the kind of man who’ll insist to hold your door, or send you all the way home despite you staying on a different planet and he’s the kind who will go out of his way just to make sure you’re back safe.

“So…think you wanna do supper? I’ll pick you up and hmm, throw in the meal and ride home F.O.C so you’d say yes. Oh, and nobody says no to a free bodyguard right?”

“Haha, Chuck, you make me propositions I cannot refuse. Give me a ring when you get here.”

I quickly tossed my iPad away and decided on a navy polka dotted spag top and frayed denim shorts. I tied my hair into a loose knot and thought I’d wear my spectacles out. After all, Chuck is quite the geek. Highflying architect with a shiny red Volkswagen, just as I like it.

It seemed that Chuck had better plans than to head out. He arrived and greeted me with an awkward chagrin and shoved a bottle of tequila into my hands. “Pizza and tequila. Hmmm, think we’ve got a winner. Not bad, Chuck!”

We quickly got ourselves comfortable before the fireplace. At first our conversations were light and easy, mostly about Tennis and little gossips about the other arrogant brutes at the club but as the night went and the tempo of the alcohol buzz in our heads increased, our conversations grew heavy with dirty insinuations.

“Hey Chuck, tell me. How do you think I play?”

“Hmm, I can’t decide between dirty and naughty.”

“Oh jeebus, surely you know I am talking about Tennis”

“Ah, but of course. You’re always taking Jillian’s shots. That’s not very nice honey.”

I smirked and playfully climbed atop of him and put our dainty china away. I looked hard into his face. “Jillian’s a…dolly dipshit. You haven’t noticed how she’s been looking at you, Chuck. It’s like she’s ready to pounce on you right there on the courts!” I accused.

Chuck burst out laughing.

Before I could say something, his powerful arms reached behind and thrashed me down forcefully towards him and he took full possession of my mouth. At first his kisses were tender and melting, then they turned sensual as his tongue delved deep. My breasts were crushed against the hard, sleek muscles of his chest and I could feel his intrusive bulge against my shorts. After long minutes of fierce kisses, he stopped abruptly. "You play...hm, dirty."

I ignored his accusation and took his lips again, his hands quickly went under my top to unfasten my bra. He stood us up, took two steps and pushed me against the wall. He quickly removed what’s left of my clothes and tore the buttons from his linen shirt in his haste to feel his naked flesh against mine. His fingers gingerly traced my mons, lightly and teasing that I could hardly keep it in.

“Chuck….Chuck, please… now” I begged

He drove two fingers into me and I moaned into his mouth, pleasure mounting with every stroke. “Chuck…please…” I begged, both of us in such need of immediate gratification that he needed no further prompt. He positioned himself and pushed his shaft deep into me as I cried out with sheer pleasure-pain, wrapping my thighs high above him, needing every inch he could give. He started to thrust with long savage strokes, deeper and deeper, faster and harder, pushing me painfully unto the wall with every stroke. I hung onto him like my life depended on this and moved with him to sync. I was now crying and crawling his shoulders, feeling the pleasure mount until I could barely hold and then I felt my body tighten and convulse and simultaneously, he erupted his load deep into me. He withdrew, drew me into a deep embrace then looked at me.

“There, you stole Jillian’s shot again.”

I chuckled.