Noc’s hands insistent on my hips, he
murmured, “Faster, sweetheart.”
I did not move faster.
Sitting astride him, I gazed down at him
lying on his back before me in the faint early morning light and
took my time moving up and down on his shaft, shifting my hips or
torso minutely to change the angle, give him a surprise, offer him
more, all while I watched his enjoyment.
As did he, watching me do my work.
His fingers dug into my flesh.
“Frannie, baby, faster.”
I again didn’t go faster.
That night, I’d had eight orgasms. He’d had
one. I could take all the time I needed to give him the depth of
pleasure I was right then intent to give him.
Moving at the same speed, I bent over him,
trailing a hand lazily down his chest. My hair falling over my
shoulder and brushing his pectoral, I squeezed my walls around his
cock, filled myself with him and started undulating.
“Fuck, Frannie,” he gritted, his eyes aflame,
his fingers now biting into me.
“Allow me to give you something,
darling.”
“You been givin’ somethin’ to me but givin’
more of it to me about now would be good, baby.”
I smiled at him.
His gaze dropped to my mouth and his body
under mine went utterly still.
I found that an odd and disturbing
reaction.
Then, with a surprised cry, I found myself
again on my knees but no longer straddling Noc with his shaft
inside me.
I was facing the headboard, forced slightly
to bent by Noc’s chest in my back. He had a hand between my legs,
finger at my clitoris, his other hand was angled across my chest,
those fingers curled around the side of my neck.
And he was driving his cock inside me swiftly
and brutally.
Oh.
My, my,
my
.
The pad of thumb pressed up under my jaw,
forcing my head back to his shoulder as he kept taking me
violently, pounding into me.
Amazing.
His lips at my ear, he grunted, “Want number
nine.”
“Noc,” I forced out.
Loving the feel of his cock slamming into me,
the power of him surrounding me, the dominance of him having
mounted me, I lifted a hand to brace myself against the headboard
so I could get more out of his thrusts.
“Come on, baby,” his finger at my clitoris
started twitching dazzlingly, “give me nine.”
I felt the tingles ripple up the fronts of my
thighs and I started to push myself back to meet his drives,
gasping with effort and pleasure through each.
His thumb at my jaw slid in, over my lip and
inside my mouth.
“Suck,” he ordered.
I suckled and the instant I did, the power of
his movements intensified.
The taste of him, the feel of him, I moaned
against his thumb, my body bucking with the orgasm that suddenly
crashed over me. Jarred by his increasing thrusts, I pulled hard on
his thumb in my mouth and burrowed my head in his shoulder,
experiencing glory.
“That’s nine,” he grunted, sliding his thumb
out of my mouth to wrap his hand fully around my jaw, “now give me
ten, Frannie.”
“Noc,” I panted, still in the throes of
number nine.
He kept at me, finger at my clitoris and cock
driving deep.
“Fuck, you should see you taking me,” he
groaned, and if it was possible (which it was since he did it), he
started taking me harder. “Your tits. Your face. Your cunt.
Goddamned beautiful.”
I heard him. I loved the words.
But I was in the middle of marveling about
the fact I could feel another climax coming so I couldn’t
reply.
“This, baby,” he stated, his fingers at my
jaw holding tighter, “what we’re doin’ right now, is
fucking
.”
“I…like…fucking,” I pushed out.
“Good,” he grunted, slamming inside.
Good was an understatement.
“Next time, I’m doin’ you in front of a
mirror.”
At his enticing words, my arm flew up and
back. I caught his hair in my grip and gave him number ten, even
after all he’d given me that night, not to mention just climaxing,
orgasming violently in his hold.
“There we go,” he growled then drove inside,
grinding, and I heard and felt his grunts sound against my shoulder
as he climaxed inside me.
After some time, when heartbeats and
breathing had slowed, Noc wrapped one arm around my belly, the
other hand he moved to again curl around the side of my neck and he
took me with his cock slowly, tenderly. So beautiful.
So Noc.
After offering that intimate caress, he
slowly pulled out, laid me on my back, kissed my belly, my chest,
my chin and looked in my eyes.
“Right back,” he murmured.
He was good on his promise. Leaving me to
dispose of the sheath, he returned and I was in his arms under the
covers, my back to his front.
I was also half asleep.
“Figure we got maybe four hours before we
have to check out,” he muttered into the back of my hair.
“Check out?” I mumbled.
His arms around me tightened and he answered,
“I’ll explain later. Now, sleep.”
My drifting eyes drifted closed and stayed
that way.
My mouth did not.
“Noc?” I called.
“Yeah, Frannie.”
“All of the parts I do,” I told him.
“What?”
“All of the parts I do,” I repeated.
He burrowed his face into my hair and pulled
me deeper into his arms, murmuring a sleepy, “Sorry, baby, I don’t
get it.”
“All of the parts that make you, I cherish,”
I explained. Vaguely I felt his warm, languid body go solid all
around me. “It’s only when you’re being bloody-minded that I tell
myself I don’t. But I cherish that too, because it’s you.”
I finished by finding one of his wrists at my
midriff, wrapping my fingers around it and giving it a squeeze.
Promptly after accomplishing that, I fell
fast asleep with Noc’s body still solid behind me, his arms holding
me tight.
Dashboard Lights
Noc
“What does this do?”
“It counts how many steps you take and you
can input what you’ve eaten, what exercise you’ve done, how much
water you’ve drunk, and it tracks how far you’ve walked, how many
calories you’ve burned, how long you’ve been active, things like
that.”
Complete silence.
Then.
“And what does this do?”
“Uh, well…it’s a scale.”
“A scale?”
“A scale.”
“What sort of scale?”
A different kind of silence, then…
“You step on it and it tells you how much you
weigh.”
“Why would you need to know that?”
“Um…”
Noc was having trouble not busting a gut
laughing.
He really should intervene. The sales guy at
the phone store probably made squat. He didn’t need two parallel
universe women asking him a million questions.
Though, Josette was the one asking the
questions. Frannie was standing tucked close to his side, her arm
around his waist, his arm around her shoulders, being quiet and
watching her girl take in her new world and doing it with a sweet,
sexy smile on her face.
From what he’d experienced since taking
Franka to Valentine’s so she could change clothes and get ready for
the day, then taking both her and Josette out for beignets, Noc
knew the guy was in for it. But it was so hilarious, and Josette
was having so much fun, he couldn’t bring himself to stop it.
He’d learned that day when she’d cried out in
Café du Monde, “By the goddess Hermia, there are Maroovians
everywhere
! Isn’t it
divine
?” that Josette was into
black dudes seeing as, as far as Noc could tell while in their
world, people from Maroo (as well as some from Keenhak) were
black.
And the sales guy was a good-looking black
dude.
Another reason Noc didn’t intervene.
Though, after realizing she was attracted to
black guys, he’d spent some time in the car explaining political
correctness to help her out in not putting her foot in it. He just
had to hope Josette took it in from her place in the back with her
nose pressed to the window and her mouth hanging open.
“Never mind,” Josette said to the sales guy.
“Where are you from?”
“Uh, where am I from?”
“You know, what country on this planet?”
The guy looked from Josette to Noc and
Franka, got no help, so he looked back to Josette.
“America,” he answered.
Josette turned to Noc. “That’s where we are
now, right?”
“Yeah, babe.” Noc’s voice was shaking,
“That’s where we are now.”
Josette turned again to the sales guy and
declared, “You’re very handsome. We don’t have many handsome men
like you where I’m from.”
The guy’s eyes got huge then they dropped to
Josette’s impressive rack.
At that, Noc had to take half a step back
(taking Frannie with him) and bend at the waist a little to
alleviate the pain in his side from controlling his laughter.
“Darling,” Frannie murmured but said no more,
and he could hear in that one word she thought it was hilarious
too.
“I’m uncertain what the etiquette is,”
Josette went on. “Where I’m from, I’d just ask you, after you’re
finished with your duties, if you’d like to meet me at a pub for an
ale and then take me to your bed.” She again turned to Noc as he
made a choking noise. “What do you do here?”
“Uh,” he pushed out, “not that…exactly.”
Josette took in Noc’s position, expression
and tone, and not stupid, she interpreted all of them.
Which meant she returned her attention back
to the guy, murmuring, “Pity.”
“Jesus, where are
you
from?” he
whispered.
“Not here,” Josette gave him the
understatement of the decade, looked to the display of stuff at her
side and asked, “What’s that?”
“Same as the other band but it has a clock on
it and monitors your heart rate,” the guy answered, sounding
strangled.
“Now, why on earth would you need
that
?” Josette asked.
“Young fellow,” Franka called before he could
respond, and Noc swallowed a bark of laughter at the words she
chose.
Josette and the sales guy turned their
attention to her and when they did, the sales guy again had big
eyes, probably because he’d never been called “young fellow” in his
life.
Franka went on, “We’re here for telephones.
As illuminating as this is, perhaps we should move on to that part
of our expedition.”
“Right this way,” he said quickly and moved
even quicker. He started his spiel before they got to the phone
section. “We have a wide selection, a number of plans, different
data options, our coverage is the best in the country and—”
“I’ll take that one,” Franka declared,
pointing at a rose-gold iPhone.
“Yes, pink!” Josette exclaimed. “I’ll take
that one too.” She whirled to Franka. “We’ll have twin telephones,
Franka! Won’t that be
divine
?”
“Indeed it will, my dear,” Franka murmured,
again sounding amused.
The salesman stood in the midst of a sea of
phones and looked to Noc.
“Let’s just go with that, yeah?” Noc
suggested.
“Right,” the guy mumbled.
“To make this easy on you, they’re probably
not gonna need more than three gigs on the plan,” he told him.
“They’re also not gonna need the larger storage capacity on the
phone.”
“Gotcha,” came the reply. “I’ll go get ’em
now.”
And he took off.
Fast.
“Well, that’s somewhat rude,” Josette
muttered, eyeing him as he went and looking put out.
“My assumption from his earlier reaction is,”
Franka started and Noc looked to her, “regardless of the fact that
the women wear far less clothing, as do the men on some occasions,
the sexual mores here are more stringent than they are at home, am
I correct?”
Since he still had her in his hold, Noc
curled her into his front, enjoying watching that slim, gorgeous
neck of hers arch further back to keep hold of his gaze as he
answered, “Not sure I can answer that question accurately. Didn’t
go on the prowl in your world, sugarlips.”
She nodded smartly, sharing, “Josette told no
tales. In our world, it’s not unusual for a young woman, or man, to
approach someone they find attractive and offer to share their bed.
Flirting is sometimes utilized, but it’s also often abandoned. No
use wasting time when you can discover quite quickly if both
parties desire the same thing. Is this not done here?”
He fought a grin as he shook his head and
added, “Nope.”
“Oh dear, was I rude?” Josette asked,
sounding horrified.
Noc looked to her. “I figure he’s never gonna
forget today, not in a bad way, and right about now he’s trying to
decide if you saw his wedding band so he can take it off, come back
out and take you up on your offer.”
“Wedding band?” Franka asked.
He looked down into her beautiful face, still
unable to decide if it was more beautiful made up or not.
When he did he thought of seeing that face
for the first time in months the night before.
He also thought of all the brilliance that
came after.
Especially the brilliance of what she’d said
right before she drifted to sleep in his arms.
He then forced himself to stop thinking about
this because, if he didn’t, he’d drag Frannie to his Suburban, take
her to his new place and not give a shit they were leaving Josette
behind. And that would not only not be cool, Josette was not like a
babe in the woods.
She was like a kid in a candy store.
And that was worse.
“The band on his left ring finger,” he
shared. “If a man has a band there, that means he’s married.”
“How marvelous!” Josette cried. “And what an
excellent idea.” She turned to Franka. “If our men wore bands, a
woman would know and she wouldn’t have to walk into a pub and
unexpectedly have some wench accost her, tearing at her hair and
clothing and spitting in her face.”