Faceless-Chapter 2 - Sex Stories

Faceless-Chapter 2

... self-establishment. I was envious of her that way. My family wasn’t rich, and I was estranged from my father. To say that I had underlying daddy issues was a huge understatement. I felt like an outcast among these cultured New Yorkers… the immigrant Canadian standing in the center like a loner, holding a pathetic red maple leaf that was supposed to represent “nationalistic spirit.” Yeah, I’m Canadian, big whoop! To be more accurate, I felt like a nomad. There was no place that really felt like home to me. If only I could have clicked my heels and found myself standing in a reality that far resembled the one I was living at present. I was willing to settle in a land full of munchkins and a lollypop guild. While I was well on my way to drinking my second glass of wine, I noticed someone walk through Skylar’s front door, and I froze like a statue, glass in hand, fixed in place. Warpaint’s Emily Kokal, was singing “Love Is to Die”, and strangely I felt like an extra standing on the set of a Hollywood chick flick. This would’ve been the part where the handsome hottie would enter the scene, greet the friend, and lock eyes on his potential love interest. And then it occurred to me that I didn’t want to be a nameless extra or supporting actress. I wanted to be the female heroine, his gorgeous co-star radiating with star quality. I wanted him to lock eyes on me. But nothing of that sort happened between us. The fantasy only played out in my mind for less than a minute as I tuned out ...

... Oliver’s droning chatter, unable to cast my eyes away from him. Skylar kissed her friend’s cheek and gave him a hug before she took the bottle of wine out of his hand and motioned him to the kitchen where she poured him a drink. All I could do was stare (much to my embarrassment). The handsome stranger was dressed in a black tux, and black leather smart shoes. He looked sexy in formal attire, but I was sure it was because he was mouth wateringly attractive underneath all that designer fabric, which was why the tuxedo looked amazing on him. He had short brown hair that looked like it had been styled by a professional barber who possibly… overcharged? It seemed silly to dwell on such detail. I was just so curious about him. “Personally,” Oliver stated, “I would have loved to have told that old blow-fish to go screw himself. Do you know how hard I worked on that case?” He scoffed. “He calls himself a judge? The man is clearly incompetent! Goldman probably bribed him. Yep. I bet that’s exactly what he did. That good for nothing son of a…” I could hear what he was saying, but my silent thoughts were predominantly louder. “… I see Casanova has caught your fancy, Madam,” Oliver mimicked an English accent, breaking the spell I was under. “Huh?” I turned my head. He grinned and pointed in the distance . “We call him Casanova because he’s basically a ladies man. Though, I don’t think Casanova quite fits him. You see, I think he’s more of a hybrid between Cas and Don Juan. That man could ...