Authors: Bonnie Edwards
“I’ll shave my chest. No problem.”
“Waxing’s probably better. It takes longer to grow back. Bodybuilders do it all the time,” she said, trying to reassure him. “If a bodybuilder can take it, you can.”
He squinted and looked squeamish. She couldn’t blame him, her eyebrow job hurt like hell every month. He cleared his throat and visibly manned up. “How far south? Are the boys involved? Because I hate to admit it, but they’re shriveling at the thought.”
“We can’t have that,” she said with a sympathetic buss on his cheek. “The boys will be left alone. We’ll just do the front of the groin. And your butt.”
He looked horrified. “My ass is hairy?”
“No!” The look on his face made her want to collapse into fits of laughter, but she tried to hide the fact. “Really, it’s not. Honest.”
He hung his head. Shook it. “You’re asking a lot, but for you, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.” She kissed him and slung her arm across his shoulders in fake sympathy. “It won’t hurt a bit.”
“To top it all off, the woman lies to me.”
She giggled against his ear and nipped the lobe with a low growl. Not only was he sexy as hell, he was funny and goodhearted. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall into serious like with this carpenter of hers.
He slipped a hand under her sweatshirt and fondled her breasts again. Soon she warmed all over and leaned back to give him room to work his magic. Devil that he was, he slipped from her breasts, down her belly, and into her jeans before she knew what he was about.
With unerring accuracy, he found her clit and pressed his full palm over her mound. He rubbed and fondled her until her breathing changed to light gasps. The wild, crazy, freshly bold side of Mariel sat up and took notice. She opened her legs and moaned, bracing her hands behind her.
“Easy, Mariel,” he murmured in her ear. “Let yourself go. No one can see.” He shifted closer to make certain.
Let yourself go
. The words wound through her mind, into her heart, and she wanted more than anything to follow his advice.
She undid the top tab and zipper on her jeans, then dropped her head back to look up at the star-filled sky. Glorious! He adjusted to slide under her panties, and her clit perked up and firmed, reaching for more attention.
And then Mariel let Danny take her into a free fall of need.
O
nce Mariel opened her jeans he had more room to work on her and he took full advantage. She was wet, open, and her little clit grew and plumped under his finger. She bit her lip with every stroke and groaned when he slid two fingers deep inside her. “You’re so hot and wet. You’re ready to come.” He loved this side of uptight little Mariel. If it was later, quieter, he might kneel and peel her out of her jeans to bury his face in her pussy. Some night, he’d find an out-of-the-way spot in a park and do just that. “Let go, baby, that’s it,” he said when she tried to bury a moan in his neck.
She sucked hard on his flesh, her even, white teeth nipping. “You’re hanging, babe, let it go. Come for me.” He swirled his fingers inside her, pressed her mons to let her feel the weight of him on her. “You’re so hot.”
She moaned again. Sighed and gasped when he slid another finger into her hot wet cunt.
A car’s lights swept over them, and the sound of teenagers climbing out and heading into the burger joint distracted her. She started and opened her eyes. “No, don’t let anything take you from me. Feel what I’m doing to you and fly.” He moved his hand faster, harder, plunging his fingers in and out. He set his mouth to her neck and ear, nuzzling and crooning dark heated words.
“Fly, yes.” She moaned and rolled her hips, dropped her head back while she raised her pussy for more. Her body stiffened under his hand, her mouth closed on his neck while her inner muscles clenched with orgasm. He held her tenderly, allowing her to shatter and regroup, his hand full of soft, hot cunt. He couldn’t think of anything that smelled or felt or tasted sweeter.
His cock blasted to attention as she quieted, screaming that it was his turn.
Bleary with satisfaction, her eyes, softly out of focus, found his. “I came. On a picnic bench in a restaurant parking lot.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve never, ever done anything like this in my whole life.”
“But it was good, right?” He pressed against her wetness one more time to be sure the tumult of release was over. He didn’t want her to miss a second of pleasure.
She sighed and opened her legs to let him release her. “This was so good, I can’t wait to get home and take care of you.” She smoothed her hand over his erection. The intense feeling made him want to put her on her knees in front of him. Before he could put thought into action, the teens burst out of the restaurant door, laughing and insulting each other.
Their moment of privacy disappeared.
She put her clothes back together, just in time.
“Hey, man, you gonna use that bench?”
In answer, Danny stood, held out his hand for Mariel, and waved the boys toward the table. “It’s all yours.”
Beside him, Mariel chuckled, low and husky. “They have no idea how hot and wild you make me,” she whispered.
Pleased, Danny heard the simmer of more heat under the surface of her words. But he had to cool off his thoughts or he wouldn’t be able to drive. “This competition. Tell me what it entails.”
“Practice! I’ve never actually done any body painting.” He handed her up into the passenger seat of his work van.
“Then why do it?” he asked, although he had a fair idea why. His own furniture designs challenged him all the time.
He let her ponder her response while he walked around the front of the van and climbed in. She looked pensive as he started the ignition.
“I want to sell my art. I want respect. I want to prove a couple of things to myself and my family, before I get any older. I’ll be thirty in a couple of years, and I’m not ready to settle for teaching.” Her voice took on a firmness by the end. “I guess I want to know that I can rise to a new challenge. To test my limits.”
He nodded as he pulled out of the parking lot. A comfortable silence filled the van as the darkness held them in an intimate cocoon. He tried not to think of sex, but with his cock on a low throb, he struggled to return to the conversation. “Some artists are happy to take joy from the act, but you’re ambitious. How is that a bad thing? Why wouldn’t you want recognition and to be paid?”
“Spoken like a craftsman who does get paid. You’re such a guy. But, yes, I want to be paid, and I do have ambition. I forgot that a while back.”
“When?”
“About three years ago. I got some bad criticism and have just recently gotten over it.” She sounded doubtful, but he let it rest. If she was still struggling, no patronizing words from him would make her feel better.
“How much time do we have to prepare for this competition?”
“A month.” She stared out the passenger window. “If, um, this sex thing. I mean…”
He tugged her hand to rest on his thigh. Under his palm, her fine bones and long fingers reminded him of how her hand had looked wrapped around his cock. “As far as I’m concerned, Mariel, this sex thing’s great, and I don’t see it as casual. I’m not a player, and I’ve never been interested in bar flies and easy fucks.” His sister would kill him if he behaved like a dog.
“Oh, and here I thought I was easy.”
“You?” He chuckled. “No, you’re anything but! I’ve tried and tried to get you to talk to me, but you kept your distance.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. “I’m relieved you’ve stopped running away. So, yes, this sex thing is going to last. At least as far as I’m concerned. I want to spend time with you, lots of time.”
He’d probably said too much, but she needed to know she was safe with him.
She turned to face him more fully. “I’d like that too. And we’ll have lots of time to get to know each other while I’m painting you.”
“Do you paint my whole body?” His cock stirred at the idea of Mariel using light strokes to paint him. All over.
She chuckled. “You’ll be in a thong. Nothing will be, uh, out there for all the world to see.”
“My head may not be in charge all the time. Sometimes my cock has a mind of its own.”
“Then we’ll just have to make certain he’s too tired to rise to the occasion.”
He laughed and kissed her palm again. “I’m going to love these practice sessions.”
“Me too! I’ll register online as soon as we get inside,” she said as he parked in front of her house.
Now that Danny had agreed to model for her, Mariel went into a tailspin of doubt. She stared at the filled-out online form and let her finger hang over the Enter key. Once she committed to this, there would be no going back.
She settled her hand beside the keyboard, then turned on her chair to face Danny. “Do you think I should enter? I don’t have a chance of winning. Some of the best body painters in the world will be there.”
“Are you entering to win? Or for the challenge?”
“Some of both, but winning is a pipe dream. I have a much less noble reason for being there.” She might as well show him now, he’d see it all soon enough.
She led him down the hall to the back bedroom she used as a studio. In the corner, stacked against the wall, were her paintings. Her failures. “I want to prove to one of the judges that he’s an ass.”
“Okay.” But his tone said: Explain.
She tugged away the sheet she used to cover her stacked paintings. Turning the paintings face out so Danny could see them, she held her breath while he looked his fill. “These paintings you think are nice?”
He nodded, looking wary.
“I took them to a gallery owner. He laughed at me. Called me no better than mediocre. Told me I should consider teaching high-school art class.”
“Well, that’s what you do, isn’t it?”
She threw her arms up. “That’s right! But how did he know that? Am I so bland? So predictable? So fucking mundane that teaching art to kids who want an easy pass is all I’m good for?”
He stepped up close to her and his deep, hard hug flowed through her aching heart. Eased it, warmed it, maybe even saved it from breaking. “Oh, Danny, I’m afraid I’m not an artist at all.”
The fear that she’d never break free of her family’s expectations was worse. She couldn’t share that with him. No one except Jayne knew how her family looked at her art. She sank into Danny’s embrace, allowed his crooning to soothe her into mindless dreams of deeper intimacy.
She moistened and raised on her toes to kiss him. He took her mouth, her breasts, her heart, and then her body on the floor of her studio. In front of her mediocre paintings, her blank easel, her empty sketch books, Danny filled her with glory and took her to places she only dreamed about.
His mouth found her wet and open, his lips worked her into a frenzy while he fumbled to get his jeans off. She helped and dug into his pocket for a condom.
If this was what lay in store for them while she practiced painting him, she’d have to buy a carton.
He protected them and positioned himself at her opening. Braced over her, Danny grinned, his smile a brilliant, joyful contrast to the failures that loomed in the studio. “You are wicked, Danny Glenn, and I love it. Now, slide in and take it all home.”
He stretched her with his pulsing cock as he seated himself deep inside. The rocking started slowly with each of them keeping a fresh rhythm. A renewed energy rolled through with every thrust and retreat.
Danny groaned, signaling his loss of control and rush to the end. His deep thrust and flex triggered her newly responsive body to flush with orgasm as he came with her.
After a pulse-pounding moment, she heard his urgent whisper, his breath hot next to her ear. “Now that was a hard, fast fuck.” His chuckle sounded sexy and deep. “Go send in your entry, Mariel. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“H
e’s late,” Mariel told Jayne on Monday, three days into their practice sessions. “He left here before I got home from school and promised to be back by seven.”
“It’s seven fifteen, hardly late enough to panic about,” Jayne responded. Easy for her, she never worried about anything. And she was chronically late herself. “Has he done this before?”
“No.” The admission made her sound petulant and demanding. Character traits she abhorred. Traits she recognized from her family. “I’m stressed about this competition.” Deeply stressed. Strung-out stressed.
“It means the world to you. I understand. I’m glad you entered, but I’m even happier you’ve hooked up with Danny. In spite of him running behind today, you’ve been much happier since last week.” They’d gone shopping together on Saturday afternoon and Jayne had insisted on buying Mariel some sexy, flirty lingerie in celebration.
“I know, and I am happier. The sex is great; he’s fun and sweet and brilliant when it comes to his work. This is an old house, and every job I’ve given him has presented unique challenges. He’s patient when he explains things, and he never makes me feel stupid about what he’s doing.”
“A man who doesn’t talk down to you about construction? Wow. You sure he’s not an alien?”
She laughed, as Jayne knew she would. “Okay, point taken, I need to calm down and go with the flow. But with Nigel Withers judging, I want to shine in this competition. I don’t have a chance of winning, but I need to show him I’m not a mediocre nothing.”
“He ruined your confidence. It’s up to you to get it back, no one can give it to you.” She clucked her tongue in pique. “I wish you’d never taken your portfolio into his gallery. The man’s a total ass!”
“But he sells well. He has connections I can only dream about.” Her doorbell rang, and through the door window she saw Danny waiting on her front step. “Danny’s here.”
“Do not rag on him about being late. He probably just got caught in traffic.”
“You’re right. Talk to you tomorrow,” she said as she opened the door for Danny. She put the receiver back in its cradle. “Hi, that was Jayne,” she said, and bit her tongue about the time.
“Sorry I’m late. I guess you couldn’t start without me,” he said as he gathered her into his arms for a deep kiss.
She could get used to kisses like these. Maybe that wasn’t smart. Maybe she shouldn’t depend on them, on him. His not showing up on time had rattled her. “Very nice,” she said by way of a compliment, “but we need to get started.”
“Great, I’ll go get naked,” he said, and sauntered down the hall to her studio.
She followed and turned her back while he piled his clothes on a chair. She’d learned quickly that if she watched him, he got turned on and no work got done. Unless it was on her.
The memory of how good he was while he worked on her made her moisten. Depend on him? Addicted felt more like it.
“The theme of this competition is The Garden of Eden, right?” He stepped on the stool while she settled in a kitchen chair to work. She was painting his lower half today and needed the extra height.
“Yes, I like landscapes,” she said, and started on his right buttock. “Hey, you got waxed!” His skin was pink and hairless but still pink as a baby’s. “Is that why you were late? Did it hurt?”
“I don’t want to discuss it. But the boys are fine, if you’re wondering.” He did a theatrical shiver that made her chuckle. “The woman who waxed told me to have a cold shower to close the follicles.”
She looked closer. “Maybe we shouldn’t work today. The paint may bother your skin.” She kept the disappointment out of her voice. “I wish you’d told me you were planning this today.” She set her palm to his buttock and patted him gently.
“I didn’t want you to come along and hear me scream like a girl.”
She tried to dispel the mental image of Danny having his body hair ripped off. She turned off her sprayer. “I planned on doing the tree trunk up your spine today.” She needed to get it right, the details exact, the bark itself could take an hour. But that would take too long. The artists only had two and a half hours to do the actual painting.
She didn’t have to just be good, she had to be fast. She broke out into a fine sweat just thinking about it.
Danny’s voice broke into her thoughts. “I’m not an artist, not by a long shot, but didn’t that gallery owner dislike your landscapes?”
“What? Yes, he, um, hated them.”
Danny looked over his shoulder at her. His eyebrow quirked up into an arch. “So why try to impress him with the work he’s already decided to hate?”
“That’s not it at all,” she cried. “You don’t get it. Don’t bother trying.” The sting from his comment hurt, but he looked contrite at her reaction. She forced herself to calm. “You’re right, you’re not an artist,” her tone softened. “I need to prove to Nigel Withers that he made a mistake.” If she didn’t make him see her art in a different light, she feared she might give up altogether.
“And rubbing his nose in it will make you feel better?” He turned and faced her fully, bringing his erect penis directly in front of her face. He put his hands by his thighs and stared down at her, his eyes burning with need.
He slipped his hands to the back of her head and held her gaze. She melted the way she always did when confronted with Danny’s blatant sexuality. She leaned in, released him from the confines of his thong, and kissed the tip of his penis, tasting the lovely bead of moisture she found. Then she rolled her tongue around the rim.
He sighed and strained toward her, silently asking for more.
She slid her palms up the back of his smooth thighs to hold him still and took him into her mouth. He jerked and groaned, trembling as she mouthed him. “Oh, yes, this is good. Just what I need. Your mouth, your kisses.”
She let his words soothe her sorry soul, taking comfort from the knowledge that at least she was good at
this
. It was childish to harbor feelings of resentment over what Withers had said, but still, it rankled. And frightened her into fretting day and night that this competition was a mistake for her.
She lost herself in Danny, let his words of praise cover her artistic insecurities. She gave him everything he craved, and as his arousal built, her own followed.
Soon, she let go of all her thoughts, her dreams, her ambitions for her art. All she wanted was Danny, inside her.
She nibbled her way down his shaft to his sac and with delicate precision rolled one of his balls with her tongue. He shifted and his foot slipped off the stool.
“I need to be inside you now,” he murmured. Stark need laced through his words. “Right now!” He stepped down, tugged her to the floor with him, and slipped his hand up her skirt. He tugged her panties down her legs and tossed them to land on the corner of her easel.
She decided to leave them there. Maybe forever. “Oh yes!” she cried as he roughly entered her with two fingers. The claiming was quick, firm, and she arched into his hand, responding to his need. She melted and widened her legs so he could go deeper, harder, faster.
“Fuck me, Danny!”
Make me forget!
He reached into her bra for the condom packet she’d taken to storing in there and used it.
She still harbored leftover anger at Withers, at Danny for being late, at herself for feeling this way. Her anger-tinged desire drove her higher and higher. She had to let go of her nerves, her raw emotions. She wanted to be in the moment with Danny.
He lifted her ass in the air, held her high and open before he speared his tongue into her. She came in a wild gush while Danny lapped at her open pussy.
She expected the orgasm to wash away the anger that still burned, but the urge to fuck hard only intensified the feeling.
“Fuck me, Danny! Now!”
Danny’s grin fired through her as he entered her fast.
He rocked and thrust, his hard body pressing hers into the floor. His cock slid deep, his pubis pressed and retreated against hers while her clit responded with fresh bursts of sensation.
Still, she glowed with rough anger, at Danny, at herself for entering the competition, at the judges, even at her family. With a terrific lunge, she pushed at him to roll over.
He followed her lead and she straddled him, taking control. She swore and strained, opening wider, taking more, pressing harder as she slammed down on his cock. Her clit protruded, sticky and rubbery as she slid figure eights around his groin.
“Fuck! Fuck!” she screamed as her orgasm exploded. Moisture flowed with her coming, and she screamed again as wave on wave rolled through her, washing her free of all that had driven her to take him. She’d lost him. She had ignored her lover while she’d pummeled her body into roaring ecstasy.
She opened her eyes when she could, gasping with triumphant release. Bones and muscles melted, no longer able to hold her. She eased down to his chest and lay with her head on his shoulder, completely spent.
A flex in her channel reminded her that she hadn’t been alone in the throes of sexual abandon. Danny was still with her, still needy.
“You didn’t come?” She couldn’t believe he could hold on while her world had shattered more completely than ever before. She’d been a greedy bitch, taking and not giving. Driving hard and harder still while she crowned at the pinnacle.
“I got caught watching you. Are you all right?” he asked, but she could see the price he’d paid for his control. He was about to snap, and she loved that he’d held on to allow her to ride out her anger.
“Sorry, I got carried away.”
“No problem. You can use me that way any time you’d like.” He arched up into her in a plea. She leaned back and gave his sac a gentle squeeze. He groaned and flexed inside her.
“Do you like that?” she asked, with a teasing lilt in her voice.
“I love it, but—” He grabbed her ass cheeks and rolled her to the floor. “I need to be in charge now.” He sat on his heels and grabbed her hips. She straddled him while he pushed her down on his bulging, purple cock. He was stiff as iron and ready to pop. She’d never seen such control, but still he pressed his thumb to the rose bud of her ass and wedged his heavy cock into her pussy.
He let her feel the press of his thumb without pushing inside. Then he raised her ass until just his tip was inside. Slamming her down onto his cock, he strained up, buried himself deep and hard. Then he braced her high again, taking over completely. His muscles strained, his arms bulged, and still he dropped and raised her for his own pleasure.
He took her completely, stole her breath, reached so deep inside her she stretched and gave. “Touch my clit,” she begged. “Fuck me and rub my clit.”
“You’re so wet, you’re glistening.” The new angle took him deeper as he increased his pace, but he was too far gone to touch her where her need felt greatest.
She pumped up and down. Rode him again while his focus went to the exquisite sensation of sliding deep and pulling out to the tip.
He grabbed her hips to make her move faster, deeper with every stroke. His cock roared into orgasm as he pulsed and shot into her. He held her hips in place as he spurted and spewed deep. His orgasm triggered another for her and her pussy clenched around him, milking the last drops of semen from his balls.
When it was over, Danny didn’t speak. Instead, he lifted her into his arms and took her to the shower, where he gently soaped and rinsed them both. He kept the water cool and soothing for his skin.
They stumbled into her bed, still damp, and crashed into dreamless sleep together, sated.
The next day at school, Mariel felt uneasy about her behavior the previous evening. She’d had angry sex! She’d never expected to feel anger and desire at the same time before. But when she examined her anger more closely, she saw that it hadn’t been directed at Danny. If she’d been truly angry with him, she could not be aroused.
No, she’d been angry with herself. This competition had opened too many wounds, too much fear within her to be comfortable. Every day, she worked on her design during her lunch hour. She’d even made minor changes when she should have been cruising the room giving advice and encouragement to her students. She no longer cared about what the students were doing, her teaching went by rote and she was angry about that too.
She was a mess! An emotional wreck. The only good thing in her life at the moment was Danny. Her carpenter had so many wonderful attributes, she glowed whenever she thought of him. The sex was unbelievably good. She’d never been more satisfied in her life.
She’d wanted to discuss the whole anger thing but didn’t want to come off as whiny. It seemed insane to be ticked off about entering a competition that she’d
wanted
to enter. Maybe it was fear masquerading as anger.
After all, if she didn’t enter the competition, she couldn’t lose, could she? She would never learn or suffer over what a panel of judges thought about her art.
She stood and set aside her worries as she walked through her class and checked on the students’ work. Again, she couldn’t bring herself to care, and ended up distracted and disconnected from even her most promising students. One of her students had a real flair, but even Rajid’s work looked flat and uninteresting today.
She saw no point talking to Danny about any of this. He was a carpenter, not artistic, not creative. He used angles and form and structure, but it was more mathematical than truly creative. He would never understand her fear.
What Danny understood was sex. He was completely physical, sensual. He fed her body, not her soul. He understood how to make her wild, how to make her body sing with desire, hum with urgency and flood with release.
He’d never understand the unique delicacy of her creative soul.
That evening, Danny was late again. It was only ten minutes this time, but his breezy apology grated across her nerves.
She couldn’t work, couldn’t decide on a color for his spine. She wanted a tree trunk, but got a snake. She wanted controlled lines, not a froth of streaks that led nowhere. Frustrated, she set down her airbrush and shut off her compressor.