Page 26 of The Holy Grail

The walk-in closet

As soon as Malcom opened his front door, Dawn Corleone was there to greet him with a series of loud meows, as if berating him for being out late.

“Hey, girl,” he greeted the cat, before stepping aside to let Jules into the entryway. He closed the door behind her quickly, to keep the cat from darting out, since he’d been working on converting her into an indoor pet.

“I’ll give you some ear scratches in a second,” Jules promised Dawn Corleone, as she rubbed against one of Jules’ legs. Then, to Malcom, she asked, “Where do you want these?” as she gave the Macy’s bags in her hands a little shake.

“Upstairs,” he answered, leading the way with his own bags up to his bedroom on the second floor, Dawn Corleone trailing after them.

It was the first time being in his bedroom, and Jules wasn’t too surprised to see it was a little on the spartan side, with a king-sized bed, two night stands, and a dresser.

His bedding was a comforter with a simple, gray duvet cover that upon closer inspection, was decorated with scattered patterns of cat fur.

“I see Dawn Corleone has been sleeping on your bed,” Jules noted. “That’s a sign she does like you, in case you were still unsure.”

“Yes, she sleeps on the bed. And it’s kind of a pain in the ass having to take the duvet cover off and wash it all the time. ”

“Why don’t you put a flat sheet on top of the bed, and that way you won’t get cat hair on your duvet?” she suggested. “Then you can easily wash the sheet and you won’t have to deal with the duvet cover.”

“Oh, my God, you’re a genius,” he said. “I never even thought of that.”

“I know you didn’t,” she teased back. “Thank God I was here.”

She followed him into what turned out to be a very grand walk-in closet that would have been the envy of any woman alive.

It was about the size of a small bedroom, with cherry, built-in dressers, multiple rods for hanging clothes on, and a large, square ottoman in the middle of the room, which was upholstered in a champagne colored velvet, with detailed tufting.

The closet was maybe filled to a quarter capacity with his clothes, the rest of the space starkly empty.

He set his bags on the ottoman and she did the same.

“This is quite a closet,” she mused.

“It used to be a small bedroom, but the previous owner had a wall knocked down and converted it into the master bedroom walk-in closet.”

The way he explained it, as well as the fact his clothes only took up a fraction of the space, suggested to Jules the large closet had not been a big selling point for him.

“Did you buy that ottoman, or did it come with the house?” she asked, even though she couldn’t see him buying it, especially given the sparse amount of furniture he actually did buy.

“It came with the house.”

“Well, it’s a very impressive walk-in closet … and very empty,” she remarked. “We might have to go shopping a few more times.”

He gave her a look which said more shopping wasn’t on his agenda anytime soon.

Deciding that was a conversation for another day, she instead began taking his clothes out of the bags, and before she even had to ask, Malcom left and brought back a pair of scissors and started cutting all the tags off.

Once everything was de-tagged, they hung it all up, then stood back to admire the new pieces of his wardrobe.

“Thank you,” he told her.

“You’re welcome. I enjoyed every minute of it,” she replied, before placing a hand on one of his biceps and slowly turning him until they were both facing the ottoman.

Then, she lowered her voice and seductively whispered in his ear, “Now, then … why don’t you ma ke yourself comfortable on that super nice ottoman the previous owners were kind enough to leave here, because I’m going to get all up in your business. As promised.”

For a moment, Malcom couldn’t move as her words washed over him.

This woman was the hottest thing he’d even seen—let alone done anything remotely sexual with—and he told himself she wasn’t out of his league, because if she was, she obviously wouldn’t be here with him.

Thankfully, that was enough to break him from his trance so he was able to walk the few feet over to the ottoman (which looked like it should be on display in Versailles, not in his practically bare, walk-in closet), and sat down.

She watched him for several seconds, as if running through a bunch of options in her head and contemplating what she wanted to do first. With deliberate steps, she closed the short distance between them, eyes locked on his the entire time, and sank to her knees in front of him.

After indicating he should lose his shirt, she started removing his shoes and socks.

Once that was done, she unbuckled his belt with nimble fingers, making quick work of his button and zipper, at which point he lifted his hips enough for her to pull his pants down, and off, leaving him only in his gray briefs.

When she reached up and dipped her fingers just inside the waistband, he raised his hips again, enabling her to carefully peel the cotton material over his thick erection, then down his legs, before tossing them onto his discarded jeans.

Totally au natural and completely on display, Malcom held still as she gazed at every square inch of him, gratified she seemed to like what she was seeing.

When she’d apparently gotten her visual fill, Jules trailed her hands up his hair-roughened shins to his knees, which she gently pushed apart, so she could settle in between his legs.

Her hands then continued up along the length of his thighs to his cock, which she immediately wrapped her fingers around, and as Jules began stroking up and down, she raised her eyes to his.

She had done this with many men, but it had never felt this intimate, this raw, and the flush on his cheeks told her he was as affected as she was, and it meant something to him.

Jules began stroking him to find the rhythm he liked, while listening to his inhales and exhales. When she figured she knew what most of his ‘hot buttons’ were, she bent and took the head of his cock into her mouth.

The second he felt the wet heat envelop him, Malcom groaned, then groaned even louder when she began to practically deep-throat him.

It was almost too stimulating to watch, but he hated to look away, so it was a real struggle.

Watch? Don’t watch? Eventually, he gave up the fight, because the stunning sight of her sucking deeply on his cock had to be visually enjoyed, especially with his fingers buried in her bright, copper-colored hair.

She made it last longer than he thought she would, bringing him to the brink a few times, then slowing down and running her tongue along the plump veins on the underside of his shaft.

She also paid a lot of attention to his balls, squeezing, rubbing, and licking them, sometimes ducking under to hit the perineum, which turned out to be a lot more sensitive than he’d thought, never having played with it himself.

She was very thorough.

When he could feel himself approaching orgasm once again (the fourth or fifth time, he’d lost track), and it became clear she was going to finish him off this time, he couldn’t hold back a relieved sigh.

Nor could he suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as she chuckled darkly around the cock in her mouth.

As he came in her mouth, he felt the contractions around him each time she swallowed, and after slowly releasing his softening length, she gently licked him a few times, finishing with a sweet little kiss at the tip.

Feeling like every cell in his body was wrecked, Malcom leaned forward and cupped her beautiful face in his hands, kissing her deeply so he could taste himself on her tongue. “Would you like to stay the night?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, I would.”