The Empire Diner was a New York City staple. It was up there with Radio City Music Hall or the Brooklyn Bridge. Unfortunately, when I got to the diner it was closed. Not just for the day, but permanently. The sign on the door explained it away citing rent problems. Maybe it had something to do with charging $30 for a salad. The food was good, but come on…
So I pulled my phone from my bag in the hope of catching my source to see if there was an alternative spot. I was supposed to be meeting a guy named Jesus. He was a CNA who worked at a convalescent home in Brooklyn. Why he didn’t have me come out there I wasn’t sure. I had been pointed to him by a friend of mine named Tara. Her cousin, Lafayette, was Jesus’s long-time partner.
I turned to see an attractive Latin man walking toward me in a pair of hospital scrubs and a leather jacket. It was quite a look.
“Yes. Jesus?” I extended a hand to him.
“That’s me. Tara showed me your picture,” he explained. “It’s nice to meet you, finally.”
“Same here. I didn’t know this place was closed or I would have suggested somewhere else.”
“I’m sure we can find another place,” he said as we shook hands.
“Yes, I’m sure we can.” I slipped my phone back into my bag. “Rail Line Diner isn’t too far if you don’t mind the walk.”
“Fine with me. I’ll let you lead the way. I spend most of my time in Brooklyn and the Bronx.”
“Are you from New York originally?” We started walking north toward 23rd Street.
“Yeah, I lived in Hell’s Kitchen for the first year of my life before my parents bought a place out in Queens. My mother always wanted to live on Long Island, but we never made it out there. She died when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry. My parents died when I was ten. It sucks not having them around.”
“Tara told me that you were hoping I could help you. I have to be honest, unless you believe in magic, it won’t work. You strike me as the skeptical type.”
“I do, huh? We just met.”
“I know, but I’m pretty good at reading people. I’m not turning you down outright, but I’m not sure I’m the right one to help. Maybe Lafayette–”
“No,” I cut him off. We were stopped at the corner of 10th and 23rd, waiting for the light to change. “No, I… if my sister is dead, I’m not ready to know that yet. I just need to find her. Just… could you imagine if for all these years you just thought maybe your mom abandoned you, that maybe she left you by choice? I don’t know if Hadley left because she wanted to or if she was taken or if she’s dead. I’d like to believe that she’s sipping fruity drinks on a beach somewhere, having the time of her life. Until I know for sure I can’t stop and I would rather not get caught up with phony psychics who are stringing me along.”
“Sookie, I’m touched by your situation, believe me. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t work out,” he said.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. I went to a hypnotist a few months ago, hoping I could reach out to her myself, but nothing happened. I’m tired of waiting for the police.”
Jesus gave me a sympathetic look. I’d seen that look before and it drove me crazy. According to Tara, Jesus was a brujo, a man who practices dark magic. I didn’t know too much about it, but I had done a little research. I was hoping he could work a locator spell for me. It sounded absolutely absurd, but it was only crazy if it worked. I had no guarantee that he could do what I was asking, but it was worth a shot.
We walked up 23rd Street to the corner of 9th Avenue and went into the diner. Right away we were seated at a cozy booth for two. We both ordered coffee and I got my phone out so I could record our conversation for my notes. I was writing about my journey to find my sister. Whether it ever got published remained to be seen, but I wanted Hadley to know that I never gave up on her.
“So, Jesus, do I have your permission to record this conversation for the purposes of accuracy in my reporting?”
“Yes, you do,” he agreed.
“Okay. So, can you tell me what, exactly, a brujo is?” It was as good a place to start as any.
Eric: Is this a bad time?
I was back at the apartment, doing some reading Jesus suggested to me about black magic. It was fascinating stuff. Having grown up in Louisiana, I knew a little bit about it thanks to all the folks still practicing Voodoo and Hoodoo. It was after dinner. Gran was in the living room watching TV.
Me: Bad time for what?
Eric: For me to see you so I can do filthy things to you.
Me: Actually, I could use a break from my research.
Eric: I’m at the office still but I’m alone if you’re interested in joining me.
Me: Mr. Northman, what kind of hussy do you think I am?
Eric: A very sweet, horny hussy that would love to come see me 😄 I’ll feed you…
Me: Your cock? 😉 I already had dinner.
Eric: My cock is very ready to slide down your throat if you’re interested.
I laughed at that.
Me: “down my throat” is pushing it.
Eric: Near your throat?
Me: That’s more like it. 😂
Eric: I have to stay here another hour to finish up. If you’d rather meet me at my place I wouldn’t mind you in my bed either. Or both. Office and bed.
Me: I’ll meet you at your place. We can work our way up to office quickies.
Eric: I can leave a message with the doorman to let you in if you think you’ll be there in less than an hour.
Me: Are you sure you want to come home to a naked woman in your bed?
Eric: Very sure. Legs spread… mmm…
Me: We’ll see. I’ll leave here in ten minutes.
Eric: Victor will be ready to let you in.
Me: See you in an hour.
Eric: I can’t wait.
I got up from my desk and went to the closet to get a nightgown I could stuff into my bag. My travel toothbrush and toiletry kit went in my bag too. When I left the bedroom Gran looked away from the TV.
“Eric invited me over,” I told her.
“That’s sweet of him,” she smiled. “I assume you’re staying the night again?”
“I don’t know, but I’m prepared this time if he asks.”
“I won’t wait up. I would like you to let me know when you arrive so I know you’re safe,” she requested.
“Yes ma’am, I will. Have a good night. I love you.”
“I love you too, honey. Have a good night, too.” She got up from her chair to give me a hug goodnight.
I hugged Gran back. It didn’t surprise me when she followed me to the door and locked it behind me when I left. I rode the elevator down to the lobby. Our doorman hailed a cab for me when I got outside. Charles was an old grump to anyone who didn’t know him, but Gran and I were always polite. Gran always said I’d catch more flies with honey than vinegar. In Charles’s case, that was true.
The trip across town wasn’t horrendous since rush hour was over and I didn’t have to go through Midtown or the theater district to reach Eric’s place. I paid the driver before I got out of the cab. A doorman opened the door to Eric’s building for me.
“Excuse me, but could you tell me where I might find Victor?” I asked.
“That would be me. Are you Miss Sookie?” Victor inquired.
“I am,” I replied and tried not to stare too hard at the school bus yellow front tooth he had that stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Right this way, ma’am.” He motioned for someone to take his post while he walked me toward the bank of elevators. When we got there he pressed the button and the elevator opened immediately. When we stepped on Victor pressed the button for the penthouses.
The elevator doors opened seconds later. I followed him to the right. He used what I assumed was a master key to unlock the door for me.
“Thank you, Victor.” I reached into my bag to grab cash to tip him and pulled out five bucks.
“No, no, you don’t need to,” he waved me off. “Have a good evening, ma’am.” Victor turned to go back to the elevator.
That was probably the first time a tip was ever rejected.
I stepped into the apartment and let the door shut behind me. The fact that Eric was letting me into his apartment unchaperoned after just one date had me wondering if he was as smart as I thought. For all he knew I was a con artist. Letting a virtual stranger into his fancy penthouse didn’t seem very bright. Maybe it was a test.
If I was a nosey person I would have gone through his medicine cabinet. Okay, I was a nosey person, but I wasn’t going to go snooping through his things. I went back to his bedroom and set my purse on the chaise lounge off in the corner. Piece by piece my clothes came off. There was no point in pretending that I’d come for deep conversation.
Since there was time to kill I grabbed the nightgown I’d stuffed in my bag and went to the closet to hang it up. Eric’s closet was organized within an inch of its life. His shirts were nicely pressed and hung up in groups of color. Shoes were shiny and nicely lined up row by row. He had more ties than I thought any one man could have. I spotted one empty hanger and went to pull it for my nightgown, but when I did some Batman type shit happened. The shelving units moved, seemingly on their own, and I found myself face to face with… I didn’t know what to call it.
Sex toys, paddles, riding crops, collars, leashes, hoods, lubricants… I just stood there, slack jawed and a little unsure about having seen what I’d seen. Did I want to stay? I wanted something wild, but whips and chains might be pushing it.
“I see you found the treasure chest,” Eric said from behind me. I didn’t hear him come into the apartment, but he was standing directly behind me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. I spun around and slammed into him, causing me to bounce back and fall into his hidden dildo display. Awkward…
“What is all this?” I asked him as I straightened up.
“Are you okay?” he asked before he answered. His eyes were scanning up and down my body to make sure I didn’t get hurt.
“Not really,” I answered. Somehow I still had my nightgown in my hands and I quickly pulled it over my head.
He reached out for my hand. “Come on, we should be a little more comfortable when we have this talk.”
I couldn’t disagree with him there. I followed Eric out of the closest. He paced a little while I sat on the bench at the foot of the bed.
He paused in front of me after a moment. “That’s my… toy closet, as you can see. I have… extreme tastes sometimes,” he explained. The pacing started back up.
“Extreme tastes. What does that mean?” I had some fairly horrific images in my head.
“Bondage,” he stated. “It’s not something I’ve done in a long time. It’s not something I would ask you to do unless you were interested at all.”
“I’m no expert, but that looked like more than an interest in bondage, Eric. You don’t need paddles to tie someone up,” I pointed out.
“I was heavily into it for a long time,” he admitted. “It was something my ex-wife knew about but she didn’t get involved. I’ve had full blown BDSM relationships in the past. That’s what all of that is about.”
“And now you have that stuff as just memories of the good ol’ days?”
“I have that stuff in case I ever want to get into it again,” he told me. “I don’t have the time for that kind of relationship. I don’t know if I ever will, but I’m holding on…”
“What’s so different that you don’t have time for it?” I didn’t know much about BDSM relationships outside of the controversy surrounding 50 Shades of Gray and the suggestion it glorified abuse instead of promoting an alternative lifestyle.
“I’ve been working a lot more. It’s a very involved lifestyle, and you have to have complete trust with someone. If I met a woman that expressed interest I would consider it again,” he said.
I didn’t really know what to say. The display caught me off guard. It was more the shifting organizers in the closet that spooked me, although I’d be lying if I said there were things in there that didn’t make me uncomfortable.
“Is that why you want to keep things casual?”
“Because of the closet? No,” he replied. “I’m not a practicing Dom, and I don’t know if I ever will be again. It really is hard to find the time to focus on a full relationship.”
“What does a practicing Dom do?” I didn’t know and I wanted to understand. I’d already seen shades of his dominant side. Finding his treasure chest explained a few things.
Eric stepped forward and took a seat next to me on the bench. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.
“It varies,” he started. “For me, personally, I’ve had subs when I was married that I didn’t have any physical contact with at all, and others that I had a lot of highly sexual contact with. These women want to please me and do whatever is asked of them willingly. Some of them get off on the pain, which is why I have the toys I have. I don’t personally get off on inflicting pain, but on the pleasure it gives them, if that makes sense.”
“It’s… interesting. I can’t imagine getting off on being paddled,” I said.
“You got off on me spanking you,” he pointed out. “You may enjoy being paddled. I would never demand you do it. If it’s something you’d be interested in doing, I would most definitely assist.”
“Whoa, whoa, I didn’t get off on being spanked. That was the sex,” I told him.
“Then I won’t do that anymore,” he replied.
“I’m not saying you have to stop, just that I didn’t get off on it.”
“Okay. If it happens, it happens. I just don’t want you to be scared I’m going to insist you let me tie you up so I can paddle you. The only reason that stuff doesn’t have dust on it is because of the maids.”
I could imagine the shock the maid got the first time she saw his collection.
“So you have no interest whatsoever in tying me up and spanking me with any of your toys?” Oddly enough, I didn’t feel disgusted from just suggesting it.
“Oh, I want to tie you up,” he chuckled. “But it’s so I can bury my face between your sexy thighs and you can’t push me away.”
“Seriously?” That didn’t sound so bad.
“Seriously,” he confirmed. He started to rub his hand up and down my thigh.
“Is that common for a Dom to do? I might be okay with that.” Why would I say no to multiple orgasms?
“Not really. If you wanted it, I could make it common for you,” he smiled. He leaned over to whisper in my ear, “It could be your reward for being my good girl.”
My breath caught and my thighs rubbed together. “Your good girl?”
“Mmm, yes.” He licked my neck just under my ear. “Showing up and being naked for me would count as being a good girl for me. You would get a very handsome reward for that.”
“What would happen if I didn’t?”
“Depends on how bad I wanted you. You could get five swats with the paddle or denied orgasms,” he said as he sat up.
“So I would be punished.” I turned my head to look at him. I reached out to guide his hand under my nightgown. “What if I wanted you to spank me just to see if I did get off on it?”
His nimble fingers found their way home. Two of them slid deep into my core and he started stroking my g-spot.
“I’d bend you over my knee and spank you.”
I gasped from the pressure on that magic spot. His fingers moved pretty quickly and it was less than a minute before I was cumming for him.
“Eric,” I moaned, gripping his wrist as he played with me.
“Yes, dear?” His fingers kept moving as his tongue swirled around that sweet spot on my neck.
“You… I’m…” I couldn’t finish a thought. There was no time to come down from one orgasm before another started to build. “Oh my god…”
“Mmm, you make the prettiest face when you cum.” He pulled back. “Look at me, Lover. Let me see those pretty blue eyes when you cum on my fingers.” He added his thumb into the mix and started rubbing around my clit.
Our eyes met and I reached into the neckline of the satin nightie I was wearing to tug my nipple. Eric growled and his fingers moved a bit quicker. It was a challenge to keep air in my lungs. Since I’d just cum, my clit was super sensitive to the rub down it was getting. My free hand reached out to get Eric’s pants open. His cock sprang out immediately once the zipper was down. I was about to wrap my hand around his base when the second orgasm hit me harder than the first.
“That’s what I needed,” he said quietly. He withdrew his fingers from my pussy and brought them to his lips to lick away the honey that coated them.
Without prompting from him, I slid off the window seat and moved between his knees. Eric watched me lick him from base to tip. My tongue circled his sensitive tip a few times before I started over again. He held my eyes when my head began to bob. No way was I swallowing his dick, but I could definitely suck it. He kindly held my hair back out of my face for me. What I couldn’t get in my mouth was stroked by my right hand. Eric wasn’t complaining, so I was doing something right.
Occasionally he’d grunt or offer some sort of suggestion about how to better get him off.
I did as he asked but I also backed off a few seconds later. My hand kept stroking him but my mouth went to his balls. He growled when I sucked on his sac. Through it all, our eyes never lost contact. That was more his doing than mine. I couldn’t look away for some reason.
“Suck my cock, Lover. I want to see my cum on your tongue,” he purred.
His request made my thighs rub together. I gave him what he wanted. My head began bobbing again, anxious to please him. His fingers played in my hair with his palm cradling my head. He didn’t push my head down and his hips stayed still. I wasn’t so adept at sucking dick that I was prepared for him to try to fuck my throat. Diligently I worked until his abs started to twitch and I felt his shaft swelling. His balls got tighter and the next thing I knew, his hot and salty release was rocketing into my mouth.
“Fuuuuuuuck, yes,” he hissed.
I pulled off him and opened my mouth so he could see his cum on my tongue like he wanted to. Eric growled and right after I swallowed it he pulled me up to his face for a deep kiss. He apparently didn’t care if he tasted his own release.
Kissing him felt good. The stuff in the closet, honestly, wasn’t a deal breaker for me. He had his things he enjoyed and he wasn’t trying to force me into doing anything I didn’t want to do. He was allowed to have his proclivities and quirks. It wasn’t my place to judge. Besides, I’d said I wanted something a little more exotic than vanilla, right?
Maybe it was time for Sookie to take a walk on the wild side.