Dial a Stud: Dante's Story (7 page)

There were delicate black lace panties, with red ribbons threaded through them. They were pure lace, so totally see through, and I was glad that I’d only had a Brazilian wax, a few days ago.

The corset had the suspenders attached, so I could wear the black fishnet stockings with it, to complete the ensemble.

Slowly I dressed, all the time wondering if this was all such a good idea. The first tentacles of worry were setting in. I was starting to get cold feet.

When I was dressed and saw myself in the mirror, I gaped. For a woman with larger boobs and wider hips, I guess I didn’t look half bad. Mel told me all the time, I had the kind of figure to bring a man to his knees, but it was hard to shake the cruel taunts, from the kids when I’d been in school. I’d shed a lot of weight since then, but I still held onto all those insecurities from my childhood.

I smoothed sweat dampened hands down the front of my corset, before stepping closer to the mirror to check my makeup, and to do something with my hair. 

Before I started trying to style my waves into something that might be considered alluring, I slipped a blood red, satin robe on over my corset, and tied the belt as firmly around my waist as I could.

A quick glance at the clock showed, I had just ten short minutes, assuming they were on time of course. My heart began to gallop in my chest as my anxiety rose. I couldn’t even breathe properly. I was going into full on panic mode.

Suddenly I couldn’t remember why I was doing this. Why this had seemed like a good idea. I swear I managed to run through every possible emotion before I mentally slapped myself.

Glaring at my image in the mirror, I stared into my eyes reflected back at me. “Live a little, live a lot, fuck a lot, have some fun, and grow some fucking balls.” I told myself, and my own personal pep talk seemed to work. I instantly felt calmer. I could do this.

I quickly brushed my hair, fluffing the soft brown waves over my shoulders. Under the light, there were strands that glinted, with a reddish hue amongst the brown. My hair was another one of my better features, and men seemed to like it. Well, they liked to tug on it when I was sucking on their cocks, or they liked to see it wrapped around their cocks on occasion.

Once I was satisfied with how it looked, and overall I guess I was projecting about as much sexy and seductive as I, not so graceful Grace could, I slipped on a pair of strappy black heels.

When I looked in the mirror again, I could see the tension on my face. Hell, I was beyond tension, I was shitting myself. I should be happy, but I was too busy, trying not to have a panic attack right now. Hopefully these studs were good at their jobs, because then I’d be an ecstatically happy Grace, and I so badly wanted to be a happy Grace.

I was down to a few minutes now, which just gave me time to dash to the kitchen. I grabbed the wine bottle and furtively looked around the room, as if expecting to be caught in the act. Rolling my eyes at my own stupidity, I raised the bottle to my lips, and had just gulped down a couple of what I hoped would be calming mouthfuls, when I heard the doorbell. Fuck, it was show time.

I quickly put the wine away, dabbed at my lips to remove any drops clinging to my lipstick, fluffed my hair, yet again and on shaky legs, walked to the front door.

I don’t know what I expected when I opened the door. I had no idea what these studs would look like. If they would come in suits, if they would be dressed in robes, hell, I had no idea. The only thing I knew for sure; was that they would be wearing masks.

The first thing I noticed, when I opened my door, to the two men who stood under the dim lighting of my front verandah light, was that they were seriously tall.

At this stage, I had no idea just how tall because I was having trouble raising my eyes beyond a pair of very strong looking thighs before me. They were covered in snug fitting black jeans and held in place by a broad black belt.

I wasn’t so timid, that I didn’t take the time, for my eyes to register a nice sized bulge, in those black jeans, which certainly showed a lot of promise, of what was to come. That made me blanch slightly, when I realised one of those cocks had to make it, into unchartered territory, and that was my ass. I made a mental note to check them out later. He with the smaller dick would win the game of ‘Who’s going up Gracie’s ass?’

Slowly I raised my eyes over a flat stomach, broad chest and a lot of muscles. They were covered by a black t-shirt, which was a crime in itself. A chest like that should never be covered. Hell, this man had a chest on him, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I hadn’t seen a chest like that in real, ever.

I kept going up a l deeply tanned neck, a chin with that few  day’s growth kind of thing happening, surprisingly beautiful lips for a man, a straight nose that clearly had never been broken and then, the mask.

The mask was a surprise. I felt like I was trapped in the old movie my mother used to watch years ago. Zorro, since this stud’s mask was very Zorro looking in appearance. It was also surprisingly hot, no, scrap that, it was hot as hell. So were the piercing blue eyes staring down at me.

I gasped at the sight of them. They were incredibly intense, and such a deep shade of blue, I was torn between not wanting to look away, and being overwhelmed by them, and needing to turn away.

Of course it was possible they weren’t real. If these studs wanted to keep their identities a secret, then coloured contacts might be in play here. I mean, seriously, did anyone have eyes that deep a blue?

The hair I could see around the mask was a dark, kind of dirty shade of blonde. He wore it cut shorter on the sides and back, but it was longer on top.

“Hello there sugar. You gonna leave us standing here all night, or invite us in?” Blondie spoke with what sounded like, a trace of an American accent. He was big, blonde, tanned like someone who spent a lot of time in the sun, and when he smiled at me, his teeth looked dazzlingly white, against his sun kissed skin.

I blushed. “Shit, sorry, oops, dammit, fuck sorry.” The words tumbled from my lips like a train wreck of expletives. ‘Great start Gracie,’ the voice in my head chastised me.

“Oh don’t you go worrying your sweet little self.” He reached out, and took a hold of my shoulders, to gently lift me to one side, so he could step into my home. He stopped to bend down and drop a kiss on my cheek, and I sucked in a deep breath, almost swooning at how delicious he smelled.

Fuck me; Blondie was gorgeous, well, what I could see of him. Things were definitely looking up for the evening.

As he straightened and walked into the house, my eyes shifted to the second stud, who’d said nothing since they’d arrived on my doorstep.

Wanting to savour the experience, and wondering if it was a case of saving the best until last, I started at his feet and worked my way up.

His feet were in heavy looking black boots, and they were huge. They were seriously large feet, and if the thing about the size of a man’s feet relating to cock size was true, I was going to be torn in two.

I raised my eyes, and gaped at what he was wearing. Dammit, the man had inadvertently found my weakness, leather. He was wearing leather pants that hugged his long legs, in ways that nearly had me salivating. His legs went on and on, but finally I reached his groin, and again, took note of his bulge. Ok, so the studs from Dial A Stud appeared to be all well hung.

I let my eyes drift higher, and again I gaped at what I was seeing. He didn’t have a shirt on. All he wore was a black leather vest, which was open. He also had a strip of leather tied around each wrist, like cuffs or something. They were broad, a good few inches wide. I wasn’t sure what they were for, but they certainly didn’t detract from the overall, gorgeous specimen of a man, standing before me.

I continued with the visual journey of his body, nearly panting at the sheer perfection of it, but when I saw his stomach, I closed my mouth quickly; suddenly worried I might end up drooling. His skin was lightly tanned, or of an olive complexion. There was no hair on him from what I could see. He had abs unlike anything I’d ever seen. Surely he had to be holding his stomach tight to impress me? Well, it was working, I was impressed.

I reached out, wanting to put my hands on him, needing to feel his warm, smooth skin beneath my fingers. I desperately wanted to trace every ridge and crevice of those bulging muscles, but when I realised what I was about to do, I dropped my hand, suddenly embarrassed.

Instead, I continued my perusal of his body, my eyes lifting to his chest, and it was like being confronted by an impenetrable wall. The man was muscle on top of muscle. His pectoral muscles bulged, and even his nipples were hard, making me long to touch them. He had wide shoulders, bulging biceps; the man probably had his own force field.

He was free of hair, so he must wax his chest, but his skin was not completely clear. I could see a tattoo that seemed to pass, from one side of his chest, to the other. It possibly went further, but the leather vest obstructed my view, beyond what I could see through the opening. The tattoo looked like a strand of barbed wire, and I stared at it for a moment, wondering what his motivation had been for that.

Almost reluctantly, my eyes moved up higher. It wasn’t that I felt I’d be disappointed by what I saw, more I would be sad to be finished, my visual exploration, of these fine examples of the male body.

He had a strong looking neck, which was adorned by a heavy linked gold chain. I moved past it, to a very masculine looking jaw, darkened by a five o’clock shadow.

I felt myself start to melt, when I saw his full, sensual, beautiful lips. When one corner lifted, a dimple flashed in his cheek, and I nearly ended up on the floor. Damn, he couldn’t be real, Blondie couldn’t be real. I had to be dreaming, surely? Men like these two didn’t exist for real, did they?

Chapter Five

My eyes shifted from one to the other briefly, taking in the sheer masculine beauty, standing before me. I mentally shrugged my shoulders. They were standing in my home, so they had to be real; unless I was sleeping, and just dreaming all this? Better check to be sure I suppose. I pinched myself, gasping at the small pain and then turned to the studs. They were still standing there; this was real.

Finally I lifted my eyes to stud number two’s face, and gasped, probably loud enough for him to hear. I couldn’t see his face, because he too wore a mask like Blondie’s one, but because of his more European appearance, he really could pass for Zorro.

He was staring down at me, with eyes that sent a jolt through me. Damn, they were a deep chocolate brown and strangely familiar. They were just like Dan’s, the man from the club.

That was crazy though, it couldn’t be Dan. I must have had him so firmly rooted in my brain; I was imagining this man looked like him. Of course with the mask covering most of his face, it was hard to tell.

Dan’s hair had been slicked back in a ponytail; this man’s hair was loose and reasonably long. It fell to his shoulders in soft waves, and shone with a glossy sheen, under my entry lights. It looked black, but I think it was actually a really dark brown, and looking at him, he was like a dark version of Fabio, the man who used to be on every romance book years ago.

He wore his hair sort of swept back, as if he constantly raked a hand through it. Despite that, a large lock fell forward, partially obscuring one eye. The end of it curled against the corner of his beautiful lips, and suddenly, I was envious of that lock of hair. 

Overall, he was stunning, they both were, but I was definitely more drawn to stud number two.

“So, am I allowed to ask your names?” I finally spoke up, realising I couldn’t just stand, staring at them all night. I had to remember the clock was ticking. I only had two hours with these hot looking men.

“Sure you can sugar. I’m Alex.” The louder blonde stud announced, shooting a wide smile at me. He shot a glance over his shoulder, to the taller, quieter stud. “I hope you have a taste for continental?” He grinned again, and I blushed when I realised what he was saying. “This is Dante. He’s Italian and the b…” He stopped abruptly, when he was suddenly elbowed, from behind.

“Ciao bella signora. I am Dante. It is my very great pleasure to meet you.” Finally the tall, dark and until now, silent one, spoke. His voice was deep, sexy, but the accent was the thing that instantly had me so wet, I expected to feel the moisture running down my leg.

What had Alex asked me? Did I have a taste for continental? Well, if this was an example of what Europe had to offer, then hell…fucking…yes!

I stared up at him, wondering what happened next. Did they tell me what to do? Did I give them direction? Hell, I had no idea. I’d never done anything like this before, but if I’d known there were male escorts, gigolos, call them whatever the hell you want to call them, that looked like these two, I’d have done this a long time ago.

Of course, Dante’s uncanny similarities, to the man from the club, might be what made him more attractive to me, but I didn’t really think so. This man oozed sex appeal from his pores. He gave off enough pheromones, that someone should be bottling him.

All I knew, was this evening was off to a great start, and suddenly, spending four and a half thousand dollars for two hours of their time, didn’t seem like much of an expense.