Undersold (13 page)

I wrapped my legs around him and kept working his stiff length through his jeans. He kissed my neck and pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders and unzipped its back. I could feel myself grow wet as his lips moved down toward my chest and over my exposed bra. He moved away and I felt his cock leave my hands as he dropped onto his knees. I let out a small moan of anticipation as his lips touched my inner thigh and he slid my black panties down my legs.

The cold tabletop felt good under my skin, and his lips found my tingling skin. I spread my legs, and he lifted one up to place my foot flat on the table. His strong hands pulled my hips forward, closer to the edge of the table. His tongue and lips found my swollen clit and worked around it gently. I arched my back, waves of pleasure washing over me, and every ounce of stress and doubt left my body as his tongue and lips worked my soaking body. I felt his tongue slip inside me then run back up to my clit. As he worked it with his tongue, alternating soft and hard, I felt one of his fingers slip deep inside of me. I moaned and laid back as he continued to lick and suck. I felt my body stiffen and convulse as wave after wave of tingling pleasure filled me and moved up my body.

When I drew near to orgasm, I felt him stop and stand up. I propped myself up on one elbow and watched him undo his jeans and pull them down. His beautiful cock was straight and hard, and I loved staring at its girth and length emerge from his underwear, ready to take me. I shifted my body and turned onto my stomach as he pulled his jeans off his feet. When he finished, I took the base of his stiff rod, and I opened my mouth. I took his hard cock in my moist mouth, and he let out a deep growl.

Laying on my stomach on the tabletop, I took as much of him inside my mouth as I could. I ran my tongue along the base of his shaft and tasted his warm salty sweat, and savored every flavor of him. He ran his hands through my hair softly, pulling it back from my face. I used my hands on the edge of the table to give myself leverage as I opened my throat and took as much of him as I could. I felt him stiffen as he slid down my throat. He let out a groan and I felt the pressure from his fingers in my hair increase, small pleasures and pains mingling.

“God yes, take my cock,” he whispered, and I tried to swallow as much of him as I could. I pulled back and his cock left my throat and mouth trailing saliva. I took his slippery shaft in my hand, and caught my breath. I ran my hand up and down his length and looked at my saliva drop off of his tip, savoring the thickness of him.

He shifted his hips back and rolled me over again, onto my back. I opened my mouth for his cock, and he pressed his tip into my lips as he reached forward to run his calloused fingers against my soaked clit. I moaned with his cock in my mouth and he slowly moved his hips and fingers in tandem, fucking my mouth and rubbing my juices against my swollen mound. Between the taste of his thick root and his fingers on my clit, I was writhing and moaning in ecstasy. I took as much of his cock as he wanted, and felt it slide into my throat as his fingers rubbed circles around my clit. Pleasure and pain mingled through my body, and before I could run out of breath, I pushed his hips back. His cock left my mouth with a small pop.

“I love that, your mouth around my cock,” he whispered as I turned myself around, sitting up on my hands, with my legs spread wide open on the table top. He bent over toward his jeans, ripped something open, and rolled the cover onto his cock. My body was vibrating with anticipation and need, and those short moments always built up my desire for his body. He turned back toward me, wrapped his arms under my legs, pulled my hips up to the edge of the table and toward him, then pushed his length inside of me.

I let out a small gasp as he filled me. I took every inch of him, and he filled me completely. Every time I felt him inside me, I was shocked at how much of his cock I could take. His girth was a ring of pleasure inside my body, and he thrust himself deeper. He let go of my legs and leaned over me. He kissed my mouth and neck as he moved slowly and deeply inside of me. He ran his mouth down my neck and licked my breasts and nipples.

“You have such a perfect body,” he said quietly, voice husky with pleasure. I let out a small gasp in response as he thrust harder into me, and waves rolled up my spine. He stood back and grabbed my legs again as he started to thrust and push harder and deeper into me. I reached down and grabbed the edge of the table as he rocked deeper and harder. I bucked my hips back against him, our rhythms matching. He grunted and groaned as he filled me more and more, and I rocked against the tabletop as his hips hit against my body.

I felt his one arm release my leg. He reached his thumb up and moistened it in his mouth, then rubbed it against my clit as he continued to thrust inside me. “Just like that,” I groaned at him, and the intensity of his thrusts increased in response. His thumb was the perfect pressure against my swollen hood, and he rubbed gently but firmly my clit as he continued to press himself inside of me. I felt the pleasure building along my lower body again, and it began to climb up my spine.

My fingers turned white as I grasped the table. His thrusting peaked, and my back arched as the pleasure reached my chest. I could feel myself getting close, and I looked at him expectantly.

“Come on my big hard cock,” he said, which made me double in ecstasy. “You have my permission.” My body convulsed as the waves of pleasure hit me hard. I couldn’t help but moan loud, my voice filling the room, and I could feel his cock get harder and his thrusts get faster. As my orgasm reached its peak, I felt his cock stiffen, and his hand tighten around my leg as he began to come. My orgasm peaked and started to level off as he grunted his cum deep inside of me. He pressed himself deep into me, and slid himself out, slowly but strong, as the last of his orgasm faded as well.

I laid back on the table, exhausted. My entire body tingled, my lips and cheeks were numb, and I felt close to passing out from the pleasure. It was one of the strongest orgasms of my life, and it was all I could do to remain conscious. I was lightheaded and dizzy from the exertion and joy. He pulled out of me, and leaned his back against the table, breathing deep and sweating. The smell of sweet cum and our bodies filled the room, and I savored his muscled form, the beads of sweat rolling down his ripped back.

I was floating on a cloud of post-sex glow as we dressed again. I pulled my panties back on, although they were soaked through and useless. He discarded the condom, and pulled on his jeans, without underwear.

“I feel so greedy for you,” I said to him, sitting on the edge of the table and watching him dress. I let my eyes roam around his perfect frame for what felt like the hundredth time, but I couldn’t get enough of him. Every motion he made brought out something new in him that I hadn’t noticed before, and I felt drunk on every inch of his body. Even satisfied and satiated for the moment, I couldn’t help but want to touch him and explore the movements and folds of his skin. He looked up at me and smiled.

“Is it greed if I want to give it to you though?” He pressed himself between my legs and kissed me long and deep. When we parted, my head was swimming all over again.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat,” he said. “We need to fuel up.” 

I laughed. “Oh and why’s that? Got some big plans?”

He grinned at me. “You have to make up for all the time you wasted back at your apartment.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Green.” I hopped off the table and followed him into his kitchen. It occurred to me that I might have just had an orgasm on a table older than the both of us combined.

I watched Shane open the refrigerator from my seat at the island. He was making a simple salad for the two of us to split, and I suddenly felt a pang of jealousy. His easy motions, his innate grace, and the way he handled himself and his tools with precision were things of beauty. I wanted to match him, but he was unmatchable. Nothing I knew about him compared to how he actually lived, his rigor and gentleness. He was the most passionate person I had ever met, but also the most aloof and joyful. What I had initially mistaken for intense structure was actually his mastery of the world around him. The rules he made me follow weren’t arbitrary things, but important ideas that sustained our connection. When I was near him, caught in the pull of his heavy gravity, life was easier, and my own body felt light and constructed out of air.

I remembered Jim, sitting in my apartment, confessing his love for me, and I knew for certain then how I felt about Shane. It was nothing like the way Jim felt for me. It wasn’t the kind of aching need that could be forgotten or ignored, or even missed. It was a burning, powerful thing, and like all powerful things, it was mindless and blameless. It came from somewhere else and took me directly to Shane and his body. There was nothing left but to submit to its whims. I wanted to be a part of him, not of his life, but of his existence.

“I need to tell you something,” I said, unsure of myself.

Shane was chopping a purple onion with smooth, practiced strokes, his left hand guiding the knife. “What’s up?”

I let out a sigh. “Jim came to my apartment earlier.”

He paused and looked up. “Your old manager, Jim?”

“My old friend, Jim. Yeah.”

He put his knife down and I felt his attention palpably shift focus from making me food to listening to my words. It was like a spotlight running over a field to illuminate a new thing.

“How’s he doing?”

“He told me he loves me.”

Shane didn’t respond at first. I could tell he was wrestling with something, but I had no idea what. After a short silence, he said, “And what did you say?”

“I let him down as gently as I could. What else could I say?”

Relief spilled over his face, which confused me.

“Wait, what were you just thinking?” I asked.

“I’m older than you are,” he said softly. “Our life together is difficult. Living a secret takes a toll on a person. And I understand you knew him before me, before my company bought your app. You told me he was around for you back then. I thought you maybe needed something easier, with someone more your age.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Shane Green was uncertain of how I felt?

“I don’t want anyone but you, Shane. I don’t want something easier.”

His smile seemed sad. “I’m glad you feel that way. But I would understand if you didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you’d think for a second I’d want to be with Jim over you!”

“People make bad choices all the time,” he joked. The sadness softened and disappeared.

“Yeah, and maybe I’m making one now. Maybe I’ll have to withhold sex from you as a punishment for not believing in me.”

His face dropped into mock horror. “Withhold sex from me? That’s cruel and unusual.”

“I don’t know, the punishment fits the crime.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” he said, laughing. He shifted back to the food, and resumed chopping.

“Sure it does. At least I think it does, which is all that matters.”

He laughed again, and whatever weight was leftover in my body from Jim’s admission earlier was completely gone. There was only Shane, and his intense focus, bringing me back into the world.

W
e spent the rest of the week that way, in a slow rhythm of ups and downs. We got to know every inch of each other’s body. He continued to stay away from his family life, but he did tell me about his early days at the University of Pennsylvania, how he went on an academic scholarship and never looked back. He talked about how he founded Adstringo one day in his dorm room, when he came up with an advanced advertisement algorithm before anybody else was thinking about ad placement.  He talked about growing his company, but still retaining strict control, and how they pivoted in more recent years into a multi-national media conglomerate.

Late in the day Sunday, one week of pleasure and bliss later, we killed our last hours together, draped across each other’s body on the sofa in his room. We had just finished a particularly intense session, and his shirtless chest was covered in sweat and his muscles rippled with each deep breath. We relaxed into each other’s arms, and I felt safe and content. I knew that I had to go back to work on Monday. It was already weird that a brand new employee was allowed a week’s worth of vacation days. I didn’t want to think about that, about the week ending, and instead concentrated on his body wrapped around mine.

“Tell me something,” I said.

“Hmm?” He looked down at me. I rested my head in his lap, and my legs dangled over the other end of the couch.

“Did you have many other girlfriends before me?”

He laughed. “You don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sure I do. I want to know everything about you.”

“You’ll just get jealous.” He shook his head and grinned.

“Oh will I? So it’s that many, huh?”

His grin grew larger. “Let’s just say, it’s less than two thousand.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you joking?”

He howled with laughter. “Yes I’m joking! Although, it is less than two thousand.”

I smacked his bicep. It was like hitting a rock. “Be serious.”

He struggled to make his face a mock mask of seriousness. “Amy, I am always serious.”

“Yeah, sure. Just tell me, how many girlfriends?”

“Fine. Not many, honestly. I had one in high school, two in college, and one about three years ago.”

“Four girlfriends? Seriously, that’s it?”

He made a ‘what can I say’ face and shrugged. “I was really busy most of my life. You’d be surprised how infrequently you meet people in this industry.”

“But I mean, look at you. Women probably throw themselves at you.”

“Sometimes they do, but it’s usually less for me and more for my money.”

“Can you tell the difference?”

“Not always. Which is why I rarely dated.”

That made a lot of sense to me. And it explained why he had a lot of trouble trusting me. He had given me small gifts all week, but I tried as hard as I could to resist them. On Friday, when I realized I was out of clean clothes, several boxes of designer pieces appeared in the foyer, all in my size. I refused them, but he insisted I try it all on for him, one at a time. When he gave me a direct order like that, I found myself compelled to obey him. The fashion show didn’t last long, thankfully, as he tore a particularly revealing dress from my body.