Authors: Elizabeth Finn
The moment I’m out of the building, I relax and breathe an enormous sigh of relief. I was terrified what would happen during this meeting. Dr. Lynch has never been mean or intimidated me before, but I’ve always been the star pupil, not the problem child. I hop the ‘L’, still with relief coursing through my veins, and I sit enjoying the peace that has come over me. It’s starting to rain and there is a spring chill in the air, and a lovely quiet afternoon alone sounds like just what I need, but looking out the window to the passing city a sadness tinges my mood. I want to see him. I’ve craved him since the moment we parted Friday evening. This morning was filled with stress and worry, and having him by my side was so appreciated—his touch, his kiss. Now my fear has passed, I am alone, and I don’t want to be.
I mount the stairs to her door two at a time. It really is an interesting house. Wide, expansive porch that leads to her doorstep, but it also looks as though it may crumble at any moment. I ring the door, and my heart flutters in anticipation. I’ve wanted her every moment I’ve been away from her. Ducking out for the afternoon was perhaps a bit reckless, but I’ve spent years being overly committed to my career, and at the moment I want to be overly committed to only her.
Her fear this morning had me ready to fight for her, protect her. As always, my strong need to take care of her took over my mind the moment she was in my presence. Vera was enjoying Adeline’s fear far more than any decent person would, and I hate her for it. I want to make Vera disappear from Adeline’s world, and I’ve never wanted to punch a woman more in my life.
As she answers the door, standing in only yoga pants and a college sweatshirt, I hold out a small gift bag. She looks incredible. Her long hair is pulled up in a high, messy ponytail, and she’s wearing no makeup. Her skin looks fresh and clean, unblemished, pale, and smooth. She takes the bag from my outstretched hand with a small smile passing her lips. She pulls the gray tissue from the gray bag and peers inside. Now it’s my turn to smile, and as she looks to my eyes she pulls the small box of condoms from the bag, laughing. I take the opportunity to sweep her into my arms and lift her gently to straddle me. I’m already hard, have been since the checkout line at the drugstore, and I move us quickly down the hall to the first door, hoping it’s the bedroom.
I get lucky and plant her on the bed, taking my place above her. I’ve not been inside her apartment, and while I’ve thought about her home and my want to explore it, at the moment I can think of only one thing: my cock and her tight pussy. I pull her sweatshirt over her head and gaze at her naked skin. She’s braless, and her small, round breasts are stunning. Her nipples are tight and erect, waiting for my mouth. I run my thumbs over the tight nubs slowly while I watch her eyes. She’s watching me, and her breath is ragged and her expression needy.
When I lower my mouth to her neck, she turns her head to give me all the access I could want. I nibble, suck, and trail my tongue to her clavicle while her body shudders and her muscles tense and release. I move down farther to her breasts, tasting her sweet skin tinged in her unique scent. I flick one nipple with my tongue as her stomach muscles clench in response, and then I latch myself to her needy breast. First one and then the other is laved, tormented, and teased until her back arches into my mouth and her pelvis writhes at my touch.
When I pull back to meet her eyes, her eyes are hooded, seductive, and very impassioned in her need. I lean to her lips, claiming them slowly and gently before pushing past them with my tongue and invading her warm, delicious mouth. I explore and stroke her tongue with my own, savoring her flavor and the silken skin. Her hands are on me, clutching my shoulders, stroking my biceps, and pulling me to her body. She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt and pulls it off me. Her hands then find my pectoral muscles and knead, squeeze, and caress my tight chest muscles. Her fingers are demanding and warm against my skin, and I’m so ready for her I want to explode without her even touching my most sensitive appendage.
I’m stiff as a rock and desperate to enter her body, but I’m patient. Her hands move down my chest to my stomach, and I want her touch. I’ll give her all the time she needs to make this journey, knowing her touch will be worth the wait. I continue to kiss her mouth, moving back to her neck, nuzzling and nibbling my way to her ear as she continues to let her hand wander. I haven’t felt her hand on my cock since our first night together, and it nearly undid me then. I’m desperate for her, and as her fingers undo the button of my pants and then work the zipper down slowly, my cock practically thrusts out of my pants and the parting fabric. She pushes me gently with her hands on my chest to my back, moving her body to rest on her side beside me.
She lets her gaze travel down my body, starting at my eyes. She stops at my groin and slowly reaches for me. Her first touch has my body jumping. She runs a gentle hand down the length of my still-clothed, rigid shaft, and as my sigh escapes my lips, her eyes snap to mine. A very sweet, small smile passes her lips as her eyes return to my arousal. She slowly pulls the waistband of my underwear out and along my groin as the head of my cock springs free. I flex my hips, lifting them from the bed as I pull my pants and underwear down my hips. She picks up where I left off as my bottom returns to the soft quilt on her bed. She pulls the pants and underwear down as her eyes focus on my penis. When she finally has me unclothed, she looks to my eyes once more.
Her nervousness is an expression she always struggles to hide. I’ve seen it so many times, but it has never been more appreciated than in this moment. I usually want to push it from her mind, protect her from it, but right now I want to see it. It means she’s taken over as powerfully as I am by our coupling, and it frightens her; it frightens me too.
Leaning her mouth to my groin, I hold my breath, waiting for her lips. At her first touch, I moan. Her lips are warm as they pass over the head of my penis. Her lips distend to take all of my breadth, and I’m mesmerized by her mouth taking in my body. She sinks as far as she can along my shaft before pulling her mouth back up slowly, passing over every inch of sensitive skin. When she reaches the head again, she doesn’t push back down. Instead she lets her lips pop over the tight skin of my cockhead. She pulls back from me as I watch in fascination. She’s taking her time, and her torture may just kill me.
Her eyes are focused on my penis, and she reaches her hand to me. I prop myself up on my elbows, not wanting to miss a moment of her touch. She trails her fingers over the rigid, throbbing veins. She traces the line of my foreskin, watching my cock dance and jump at her enticing touch. She brushes the pad of her thumb over my opening, trailing a line of my precum down the length of my shaft with her finger. Her lips are parted, and she is studying me so closely. When she reaches the base of my cock, her fingers continue to my scrotum. I’m tight in my arousal, and she trails her fingers over the sensitive skin, rounding my tight testicles with the palm of her hand, and when she’s finally done touching, she looks to my eyes once more before lowering her mouth to me again.
When her lips pass over the head of my penis once again, I shake, my muscles clench and I have to fight not to come. She’s tortured me for too long, and I’m pathetically at the end of my rope. I let her suck and fuck me with her mouth for as long as I can bear, before grabbing her underarms and pulling her to mount my body.
She watches me in confusion, wanting to understand why I stopped her so quickly, and I admit my weakness while stroking my finger across her lips. “I don’t want to come here.” And then reaching between our bodies and between her legs to her still clothed sex, I continue. “I want to come here, and right now, you’re driving me crazy.”
I move her from my body to her knees beside me, and once there I slide her yoga pants and underwear down her hips. She’s lightly haired, and as I lean my mouth to her sex, I take in her scent. I want to devour her body, but my cock has been patient enough. I pull her body to lie on her stomach as I finish pulling her pants and underwear from her body. Her bottom is round and her cheeks are perky and tight. I want to knead the globes harshly with my hands, but I’m done with anything but fucking her at this point. I’ll play with her body later.
I move my body to hug against her backside with my knees outside of hers and my cock resting between the cheeks of her bottom. I reach one hand under her body and around her waist, lifting her hips slightly off the bed, and as I lean to her ear, I whisper my instructions. “Now part your knees just a bit so they touch mine.” She complies, and I continue. “Push your bottom up.” She does as I ask, and as I let loose her waist to brace my weight, I move my other hand down her bottom to her only slightly exposed pussy. She’s slick and wet with need, and I will have no problem entering her this way.
I tear open the box of condoms left abandoned on her nightstand, and in record time I’ve rolled the condom on and taken my place once more against her body. My hand has returned to holding her around her waist, while my other guides my rigid length to her body. She is still and nervous, and when the head of my cock nudges at her entry, she tilts her bottom upward some more. I thrust a gentle and shallow penetration into her constricted passage, made all the more tight by her barely parted thighs, and finding my way in between the folds of her wetness I pound one swift, harsh thrust to my hilt within her. She lets out a loud and unrestrained moan as I sink to her depths, and I stay still within her, pulling her body back to mine by my arm around her waist.
I pull slowly from her body, before thrusting with one more harsh, pounding drive to her core, and she again lets loose a moan from deep within her gut. I pound over and over and over, nearly losing myself with each and every thrust. Her tightened closed thighs have her passage constricted and unimaginably tight, but I want to watch my cock taking over her body, so I pull from her completely, move my knees within hers, and push her knees out wide with my own. I can see every last inch of her most private entries, and I want to invade every last one of them, but I don’t.
I align my penis to her wet and needy pussy and watch as I enter her inch by inch, slowly distending her entry. I watch every thrust, every penetration, as it takes over her body, and with my arm once more around her waist I reach lower to her clitoris and stroke and brush my fingers over her tight, sensitized nub. Her stomach muscles quiver and contract in her need for release, and as I close in on my own release, hers tears through her and leaves her collapsed on the bed panting as I continue to push my cock in and out of her while my orgasm overcomes me and then fades.
I finally leave her body, collapsing beside her and stroking her back in slow circles. She looks to my eyes and watches me as my hands caress her pristine, smooth skin. I lean to her shoulder and kiss the soft, pale skin that covers her shoulder blade before returning to her side and pulling her body into my arms. She drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, thinking endlessly of her.
I’m alive again. I carried a weight of guilt I more often than not refused to acknowledge with every woman I indulged in for one night before turning them loose. I wanted nothing more from them than their bodies, and I made that fact clear. While they accepted this for their own reasons, I used them to satisfy my hunger for sex, but in that dark corner of my mind I pretended didn’t exist, I felt guilt. I was using them and denying my emotional needs.
But the girl beside me is different. God only knows why, but she is so compellingly different. I feel guilt with her as well, but for a completely different reason. My guilt with her is for sharing her bed but not a bed that belongs to us both; it’s for being in her home rather than a home that is ours together; and it’s for taking her body but not fully giving her my heart. Her whole being begs for more than meaningless, cold sex, and while she doesn’t ask for more than what I’ve given her, I want, for the first time in so many years, to give her more.
When I wake, I’m alone, but he’s tinkering with something in the kitchen. I move from the bed and grab my clothes, tossing them on quickly before padding barefoot down the hall. Entering the kitchen, I find him half in and half out of the sink cupboard—must have found my leak. Not going to say that’s not embarrassing. Jordan is lying on his back, and as I clear my throat he slides forward to peer at me while leaning back on his elbows. He’s smirking.
“You realize using a pan to catch a leaky pipe is only effective if you intend to change the pan occasionally?” He’s still smirking, and I give him my best snarled lip.
He chuckles, shaking his head, and sits, slinging his arms across his knees, still holding the wrench he was working with in his grime-streaked hands. He’s wearing his charcoal-gray wool slacks and nothing else, sitting on my ugly, old, dirty kitchen floor. It’s a travesty really. I’m guessing the slacks alone are worth more than my kitchen.
“So what exactly is your point?” I feign ignorance with another screwed-up face.
He’s quick to respond, his amusement showing in his sarcastic smile. “Well since you asked. I got up thinking I’d make dinner…
Then
, I discovered there is literally no food in your fridge.” His turn to screw up his face in a sarcastic grimace that makes me laugh. “
Then
, I found a frozen pizza in your freezer.
Then
,” and yes, his
“thens”
are becoming quite exaggerated, “I found out your oven doesn’t work.
Then
, I cleaned up the cheese that fell off the frozen pizza, and
then
, you won’t believe what happened when I rinsed the washrag in the sink.” He pauses for effect as I shake my head in mock consternation. “Water started pouring from under the sink onto my feet. And now you find me here.” He’s smiling his beautiful seductive smile once again.
“Hmmm. That’s…”
“I’m not finished.” He cuts me off, laying on the exaggeration full force. “I’m now starving, and not just starving, but starving for pizza. I’ve decided your landlord should be arrested for allowing you to live like this, and I’m starving. Starving. Pizza starving.” Enunciating each word. He’s having fun. Mr. Serious, or is it Mr. Sexy-Serious, is really quite funny when he wants to be. “I’m glad you’re dressed. We’re going out for pizza.”