Page 26 of A Condo with Two Views

With the cab pulled over, I jumped from the back seat to the front seat. This guy must have elephant in his DNA. Jack is big, but this guy is a freak of nature. His thick, heavy cock must have been ten inches long and thicker than my wrist. I reached across and started stroking it, while the lucky recipient smiled at me, with a tooth missing, no less. My tits were still out in the open, and I even let him pull on my nipples just before he blasted the entire dash of his car with spurt after spurt of thick creamy cum. He was making a mess, but he didn’t care. This was the experience of a lifetime.

At the hotel, the cabbie refused our payment. Even when Jacked flashed him two $50 bills, he steadfastly refused to accept it.

Jack and I fucked with incredible passion that night. It felt like the days of old.

Later in bed, I asked Jack a question: “Do you miss it?”

He knew what I meant, and answered in a very guarded way, “I hate what I did.”

I fell asleep thinking about his answer. While he knew what I meant with my question, I in turn, knew what he meant by his answer. He did miss it. He missed owning me as his submissive.

But he wouldn’t own me, for fear of hurting me again.

Chapter 17. Pitch Day

Jack’s View:

With Puerto Vallarta a few weeks behind us, life returned to normal. I was still working extensively on the biggest new business pitch in our firm’s history. The few days before the pitch saw a lot of late evenings, as we did rehearsal after rehearsal. We needed to be super tight on the big day or there’s no way we’d win. I’d get home at 10:00 or 11:00 pm, and Chloe would be waiting with a smile and a hug. We’d watch a bit of television, maybe have one glass of wine, and then fall asleep next to each other in bed.

I woke up early the morning of the pitch without having had much sleep. The adrenaline would carry me through it, so lack of sleep was the least of my worries. I kissed Chloe on the cheek, while she still lay in bed, and off I went. Coincidentally, she booked the morning off to run some errands.

“I’ll call you as soon as the pitch is over,” I said, “love you.”

Traffic was worse than normal, as always happens when it matters. Luckily, I built in buffer time, so my colleagues and I all met at a coffee shop, with plenty of time to spare. We did one last walk-through of the agenda and game plan.

The pitch itself went brilliantly, although we always think that’s the case. Even when you think you’ve won, you are often surprised to lose. We were one of four firms pitching, so all things being equal, our chances were twenty-five percent. For a full hour before the pitch, and three hours during, I kept my cell phone off. I couldn’t afford any distractions. Besides, Chloe knew we were on – so with the possible exception of a ‘Good Luck’ text, I didn’t expect to hear from her.

Leaving the pitch, we headed straight for the nearest pub so we could do a post-op. Everyone was turning on their cell phones at the same time. Mine showed several phone messages. That was strange since we had also told our receptionist not to forward any office calls. Then I looked at who these messages originated from, and I gasped.

The San Francisco Police Department had phoned me three times. All that was left was a return phone number.

Scrambling, I took my phone and found a quiet spot in the hallway of the pub, just outside the men’s room. Nervously I dialed. What the fuck is going on? Hurry up, answer, answer! Finally after the fourth ring, a male voice answered.

I spoke before the word ‘San’ was out of his mouth: “Hello this is Jack Gibb. Did someone phone me?”

There was a moment where papers were shuffled, and then he spoke, as if reading a script, “Are you married to Chloe Gibb?”

“Yes, I’m married to Chloe Gibb. What is going on?”

“Sir, there’s been an automobile accident. I suggest you make your way to the UCSF Medical Center immediately.”

“Is she okay? Tell me, is she okay??”

“Sir, I think it’s best if you proceed directly to the hospital.”

“But I have the car. How could she drive if I have the car? Was she with someone?”

“There is another name on file here, yes. He was the driver of the car.”

“Who? Tell me, who?”

“The gentleman’s name is Benito Sanchez.”

I walked straight outside, not bothering to say goodbye to my colleagues. I took a cab, knowing it would be faster than retrieving my car. Besides, I was in no shape to drive. All I kept thinking was: please let her be okay, please let her be okay.

And what the fuck was she doing with Benito?

Chloe’s View:

I was still in bed when my phone buzzed on the nightstand beside me. From the sound I knew it was a text, not a live call. I assumed it was Jack telling me they were about to go in and do their pitch.

Instead, it was from Holly: ‘Come get me now. Seriously fucked up. 172 Weinner Drive. Now.”

I texted her back, asking for clarification. Was she in trouble? What does ‘seriously fucked up’ mean? Was she overdosing? Who was she with? She didn’t return any of my texts, and the phone went straight to voice message when I tried to call. Fuck Holly!!

I didn’t know what to do. Jack had the car. Could I go there alone? What if it was some kind of crack house? They wouldn’t let me in. Should I call the cops? I decided that was a mistake. If I got Holly’s insane friends busted, they’d take it out on her!

My mind was racing. Jack was at his pitch, and his phone was off. No matter how desperate she was, Holly never texted me like this. I needed someone to help me immediately, as it sounded like time was of the essence. If Holly was about to O.D., I’d never live with myself if I didn’t try to save her.

Mike! That’s it. I’ll go ask Mike the caretaker. I’ll find him down in the lobby area. Even if I have to give him $200. I grabbed my purse, and flew down the hall toward the elevator. In my mind I was cursing Holly, but I also realized how much I loved her. True friends last forever.

In the lobby, I scurried here and there, but Mike was nowhere to be found. Frantically, I knocked on his door but to no avail. On the way back I glanced around the lobby again in desperation. That’s when I saw Benito come walking through. He saw me too and noticed something was going on. My hair was a mess, and I was in panic mode. I explained the situation, and to his credit, we were in his Mercedes-Benz in no time at all, plugging the address into his GPS.

We didn’t talk about much, other than I told him a little more about Holly. I warned him I didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into. What kind of house would this be? We wouldn’t exactly be welcomed there. Benito assured me that he was one hundred percent with me, and if we had to barge our way into that house to rescue Holly, that was totally okay. I must admit, in that moment, I realized he maybe wasn’t as big a creep as I thought. When push came to shove, he stepped up.

Benito was driving aggressively in an effort to get us there more quickly. He would push it anytime we hit a yellow light. According to the GPS, we were less than ten minutes away.

I remember we passed a big high school on the left hand side, because it made me think of my years in high school when Holly and I were best friends.

I don’t remember anything after that.

Chapter 18. Visitors

Jack’s View:

I sat for hours beside Chloe’s bedside in the hospital.

I stared at her pretty sleeping face, then out the window, then at the floor, then at her face, then out the window again. Doctors had done all the necessary CT scans, and thank God, she had only suffered a concussion. She was sleeping peacefully, mostly from the pain medication.

Her right wrist was sprained, and her right leg had bruising and lacerations. Her head had slammed into the side passenger window as the car spun rendering her unconscious. Benito was somewhere else in the hospital, and apparently there were no life threatening injuries. He had suffered broken and bruised ribs, but luckily, the airbag prevented any head injuries. Both of

them were okay.

As Chloe started to awaken, she was too incoherent to speak. Then she fell asleep again until the middle of the night. I sat there in a reclining chair. There was no use attempting to sleep. I just wanted to be in the room with her, so that when she opened her eyes again, I would be there for her.

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