Broken by Annie Jocoby Page A

too.”
    “Getting there. It’s slow going, more slow for me than it has been for you. But I hope that things are going to turn around any day now.”
    There was silence on the line for a bit. “You still with that supermodel?”
    “Penelope?” I felt embarrassed to admit to him that I was still seeing her. Of course, I was still having sex with others, like Portia today in my office. But Penelope was still my main one. “Yeah.”
    It was then that, just like clockwork, Penelope was calling. I let it to go voice-mail, which was a stupid thing for me to do. There would be hell to pay for my not picking right up. But it was a game that I played with her. I kept her in line by making sure that I kept her on her toes. Which meant that I was never at her beck and call, no matter what. I knew that I was unusual, because men always fell right at her feet, so I supposed that was part of the appeal for her. And I was the master, the absolute master, at head games. I had perfected the art long before I met Penelope.
    I got off the phone with Ryan, after learning that Ryan actually would be in town in a couple of weeks for business, and almost immediately after hanging up with him, Penelope was at my door. “Hey, handsome. Can I crash?”
    “Sure,” I said. “Guess your party’s over from tonight, huh?”
    “What? No. I just got off of work. Been thinking about you all day. Just wait until I do to you what I want to do to you. What I’ve been fantasizing about today. You wanna hear?”
    “Does it involve a third party?”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “Where is said third party?”
    “Just imagine it. Amber. You remember her?”
    “Sure. Call her. Get her here now.”
    At that, Penelope called Amber. She addressed me. “She can be here in five minutes.”
    Amber lived about a block away, I knew. Convenient.
    Sure enough, Amber showed up in less than ten minutes. Which was great, because I was salivating for some girl on girl. I hadn’t had that in awhile. Amber was a German model who was even hotter than Penelope, or even Portia, for that matter. On the New York City modeling rung, she was pretty high up there.
    “Hello again, Nick,” she said, as she took off her sable coat and carefully placed it on the coat rack. She was dressed from head to toe in a form-fitting black catsuit with boots. Her magnificent body was perfectly outlined in her getup. She didn’t have on a stitch of makeup, because she, too, had just gotten off of work, and, as Penelope explained, since they were always required to wear so much makeup in their photo shoots, they usually went without it in their real lives. But, even without the makeup, she looked perfect. Enormous green eyes, sensuous and full mouth, flawless skin. Physically she was perfect, which was why her face was seen in two-page advertisements in every major magazine and on enormous, building-sized billboards in Times Square. She was one of the most recognizable faces in New York City, and that was saying a lot, considering that this was the city where models abounded.
    “Amber,” I said, feeling myself getting hard just looking at her and getting even harder thinking about the three of us in my king-size bed. “Good to see you.”
    “I’ll bet.” Then she walked over to me, threw her arms around me, and kissed me, her tongue exploring and interlocking with mine. She tasted sweet, like cherries. Her firm breasts were planted against my chest. She pulled back, looked at me and smiled. “Feels like you’re ready to go,” she said, putting her hand on my crotch.
    “Ya think?” I asked.
    “Oh, yeah, I think.”
    At that, Penelope came up to us and she put her hand on Amber’s breasts and the two of them started kissing passionately. Then Penelope started kissing me, while Amber reached down to unbuckle my belt and unbutton my trousers. Her fingers were soon pulling down my boxer briefs, and I felt her lips and tongue sliding up and down my shaft. I was unbuttoning Penelope’s