Harvest Love

by Amelia Star

  “Alicia,” he grunts as I let go, his eyes burning with desire. This time, he doesn’t give me time to slip away from him. He grabs me in his arms and lifts me easily from the floor, his lips crashing against my own.

  We kiss passionately, our tongues dancing together as if it’s the last time we’ll ever be together. But it’s only the first. And I know that I won’t lose him after today.

  He walks confidently, keeping me close to his chest, taking complete control as he carries me bridal-style toward my bedroom. I squeal when he throws me on the bed, making me bounce gently, giggling in the process.

  But my laughter only lasts an instant. Micah is on top of me in the blink of an eye, ripping my dress off and throwing it to the floor. He sinks his face in the sensitive nook between my neck and the beginning of my shoulder and starts nibbling at my soft, pale skin hard, making me squirm.

  He takes advantage of my surprise and unhooks my bra swiftly, using the same quick action to reach for my right breast and squeeze it playfully. I moan, tilting my head back and letting him explore my body freely.

  “Yes, Micah, yes,” I moan as his free hand continues rolling down, down, down, until he hooks his thumb on the hem of my panties. He pulls them off with a swift movement, and licks my neck before leaning up, and staring into my eyes.

  All that separates us are his pants, and I know that they’ll only remain there for a moment longer.

  “Are you ready, Alicia? Do you want me to take you? Claim you?” He asks with a soft, sensual tone. I see him pulling a condom from his pocket, and he stares intently into my eyes.

  “I’ve never wanted anything so badly before,” I purr, and he grins at me, his breathing ragged and his skin hot.

  He’s always so composed, it’s strange seeing him unable to resist temptation. And yet it’s so arousing to know that I can make him feel this way—that I can push him to give in to his every need, throwing caution to the wind.

  Micah unzips his pants and kicks them off, and I finally feel his whole body pressed against mine, his dark skin on top of my own, his erection rubbing against my soaked entrance. He doesn’t push himself into me at once, but rather laps at my breasts, flickering my nipples until they are hard as a rock, his cock brushing against my entrance over and over. Smoothly, he enters me, and all the colors of the rainbow fill me entirely.

  “I want you, Alicia. You are my world—my everything,” he pants against my neck as he leaves behind a trail of nibbles and kisses that drive me insane. Soon, he is moving faster and harder inside of me, making me want more.

  “Harder, Micah, harder!” I plead, lost in the intensity of the passion, feeling him impaling me deeper, harder, faster, with each new thrust. I’m lost in his strong arms, and my sex clenches powerfully around his girth as if trying to draw him in further. “I want you too! I only want you—you are the only one!”

  He shifts his head to the side and catches my lips on his own. We begin to move in perfect tandem, our bodies synced up like we belong with one another. I feel bolts of pleasure rushing from my sex to every corner of my body, and bit by bit, he drags me closer and closer to a powerful, mind-numbing orgasm.

  When I feel I can’t take it any longer, that I’m just there at the edge waiting to fall, I embrace him tightly, sinking my nails against his back this time. He grunts, but this only encourages him to move in me harder, his stiff cock drilling into me like a well-oiled piston.

  “Micah! Oh, yes, Micah!” I moan in a high-pitched voice, and finally, it’s there. Like waves crashing upon the sand, a powerful orgasm washes over my entire body. I tense against his body, pressing my thighs to his sides, wrapping my legs around his hips and pulling him oh so close to me.

  I hear him grunt from what seems like a great distance, even though he’s only inches away, then his cock throbs sensually inside my very core. He’s wearing a condom, so I don’t feel his seed gush forth, only something like an electrical force charging through my body.

  I close my eyes, panting heavily in the aftermath of my orgasm—but Micah isn’t done with me. Oh, not by a long shot.

  He lets go of me, and I unwrap my legs from his hips. But instead of lying by my side, he begins moving down my body and finds himself between my open legs.

  “No, Micah, I’m way too sensitive now,” I protest. But he doesn’t listen.

  “You’ll enjoy it—trust me. Just embrace the intensity. It’ll enhance the experience,” he tells me as he slips his tongue over my clit and flickers it sensually.

  The feelings flooding my body are intense and almost too much to bear. It feels pleasurable, yes, but at the same time it burns, it makes me squirm and try to escape his touch. He grabs my hips and pulls me closer, continuing to lick and suck at my clit, swallowing my arousal.

  I squeal and pant, kicking almost without thinking. It feels so good, but at the same time, it’s too much. Like a kind of dull pain that doesn’t truly hurt, but rather aches, burns, deep inside. I moan loudly, and follow his advice, embracing the whole experience.

  And is it worth it. Because as the discomfort slowly slips away, all that remains is a pleasure even more powerful and intense than the one I felt before. My body is still enjoying the afterglow of my previous orgasm, and everything’s in overdrive. So the pleasure is heightened in a way I’ve never imagined.

  I’m not the kind of woman that comes twice in such a short period of time, but now I understand what Micah was talking about. It feels like pleasure piling up on top of pleasure, and it only makes my new orgasm even more mind-blowing than the last one.

  I shriek and moan his name over and over as he continues to lick and nibble at my soaked pussy, never giving me a rest until I collapse on the bed, drenched in sweat and completely out of breath, feeling so overly sensitive that even placing a single finger on my pussy would make me come all over again.

  But Micah gives me relief from the pleasure. He rolls up and lies by my side, grinning wickedly and possessively at me. He kisses me passionately, and even though I can taste myself on his lips, I kiss him back.

  He pulls me into his arms, and we cuddle together, spent yet feeling happy—so happy.

  SIX – MICAH

  I wake to smells of coffee and cinnamon wafting into the bedroom. But it’s the idea of seeing Alicia’s smiling face that gets me out of bed.

  In the kitchen, she’s just taken a pan of muffins out of the oven. She looks up and everything about her is perfect—her tousled hair, her short terry cloth robe, her floppy slippers. Her brown eyes are sparkling, and her pale skin is glowing. “Good morning, Micah. Are you hungry?”

  It only takes a few strides and I’m across the kitchen and have her in my arms again. Nibbling at her ears and down her neck, I say huskily, “Oh, Alicia. It’s wonderful being here with you. I could just devour you all over.” I kiss her deeply, tasting coffee and hints of cinnamon from when she must have sampled the batter for the muffins.

  Tilting her head back, absorbing my biting kisses, she laughs and takes my face in her hands. “I made something for you.”

  “Yes.” I glance at the muffin tray. “You’ll need energy to create this mysterious project you want to work on today. Tell me about it—what exactly is this project?”

  “Well, I started my Colors of the Seasons project months ago, back in the spring. Every season, I go to the Botanical Gardens and paint the Japanese bridge in that section of the park. It looks so different during various times of the year—and today should be perfect with the autumn leaves in color.”

  “Wow, that sounds a lot more fun than what I usually do on a Sunday morning,” I say while we nibble on the cinnamon roll muffins.

  “And what do you usually do this time of each week?” Alicia pours me a cup of coffee.

  “Well, usually I’d be at my desk at home working on lesson plans for my chemistry classes. I’ve always liked getting my work done ahead of time so that I can focus on other activities with my students and the team during the week.”

/>   “Oh, I see. You don’t even get weekends off.” Alicia takes a bite of a roll, then sets a second one for me on my plate.

  “That’s the way it usually is. But today is going to be different. Today, I’m staying with you.” I pause and look across the table at her. She runs her hand through her tousled hair, making me think how every gesture she makes is beautiful.

  “You know,” I continue, “when we met your parents at the steakhouse yesterday, I couldn’t believe how dismissive your mother was of your plans. She didn’t seem to give a second thought to skipping out on helping with your project.” I shake my head.

  “Oh, Micah, actually, I wasn’t surprised at all. That was just another in a long list of times she’s left me out in the cold. Ever since my dad took off, she decided that maybe if she just ignored me, I wouldn’t exist.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Well, it wasn’t all bad. To a certain extent, her leaving me alone gave me room to become my own person. To become an artist. I had to be very creative to make a world that was beautiful, when the world around me wasn’t always that way.”

  “I can’t wait to see some more of your work.”

  “Well, most of my paintings are in the shed out back. I stored them there when I moved here. That’s where most of my supplies are. The shed’s a mess, and it’s not exactly temperature controlled. I need to either move my stuff into the house or get it fixed up before it really starts getting cold.” Alicia finishes off her coffee with a last sip.

  “Should we get cleaned up and dressed, then go outside and have a look?” I ask.

  “Sounds like a plan. You can also see the beautiful garden that the woman who lived here before me planted with her husband. But I’ll put all this away first,” Alicia tells me.

  I’m heading into the bedroom for my clothes when my phone rings. For a split-second I think—Don’t answer it, this is Sunday. You’re here with Alicia, and that’s all that you need now.

  But responsibility is a strong habit, and I fear something could be happening now that vitally needs my attention—I can’t help but answer the phone.

  Standing in the doorway between the bedroom and the kitchen, I look at Alicia with her darling tousled hair and listen to the panicked voice on the other end of the line for a few minutes. Her face goes from smiling to concerned. Then, when she hears me say, “Okay, I’ll be right there,” her expression changes to the exact same one that was on her face last night when her mother let her down. She looks like a heart-broken angel as she turns away and faces the window above the sink that looks out onto the backyard.

  “Alicia, I am so sorry.”

  “Just go,” she says. She doesn’t even look at me, she just keeps cleaning up the kitchen.

  “You don’t understand. It’s Jim—from Friday night. You remember, the player I was talking to at the barbeque for so long? Well, it’s come down to the last straw for him. He could be sent to juvenile detention if someone doesn’t come quick and stand up for him. The situation is crazy.”

  Alicia turns around, her face even more pale than usual. The sparkle in her eyes is gone, and all that remains is a cold, hard look, a wall of defense. I want to comfort her, to tell her it’s the last time that I’ll do something like this to her. But I don’t have time. I have to get to Jim’s before he’s taken off somewhere he shouldn’t be. He’s one of my kids, and there’s no one else there for him.

  “Oh, I understand,” Alicia states flatly. “Just go, why don’t you. You have your priorities, that is very clear. I just thought maybe I might have a place in your day somehow also.”

  Rushing to the bedroom to throw my clothes on, I hurry back out to the kitchen to let Alicia know I’ll be back as soon as I can. But she’s not there. All I can assume is that she’s gone outside, that she’s in the shed getting her supplies together. But I can’t think about that now. A kid’s life is on the line, and I’ve got to go.

  SEVEN – ALICIA

  It’s going to be a long day. I call Hailey and she is super sweet and comes to help me with my project. We really have a good time at the botanical gardens. While I work on my Colors of the Seasons painting of the Japanese bridge for autumn, I also have a chance to talk to her about what happened this weekend.

  I was feeling pretty dejected right after Micah left, but out in the fresh, crisp air in the beautiful setting of these gardens, I feel a sense of resolve coming over me. “First my mom, then Micah, leave me in the cold. I’ve decided I need to just focus on my art from now on. My art has always been there for me.”

  When we’re not talking, Hailey is reading a book by one of her favorite romance authors Liz Fox. “Of course, your art will always be there, Alicia. But you never know what else will happen in your life. People can change—you’d be surprised.”

  I pause and step back, looking at the autumn painting of the bridge on my canvas. “I guess you’re right, Hailey. Like my paintings of the bridge, it looks like a different place from spring to summer to autumn. And come winter, it will be transformed again.”

  “That’s exactly it, Alicia. Sometimes you just need to give people time.”

  “Well, for now, I will just paint,” I say.

  It’s mid-afternoon when Hailey helps me pack up my supplies and load them in the car. In the parking lot, we give each other a big hug.

  “If you need me to help out again for the winter painting, just let me know—I want to see the whole series,” Alicia lets me know as she gets in her car to head off for the restaurant where Ted is already busy managing the evening shift. She still has a full night ahead of her—she always amazes me with her endless energy.

  After a quick trip to the grocery store, I head on home. To my surprise, there is a line of cars around the block when I arrive in my neighborhood on the edge of town. “Someone must be having a party tonight,” I think.

  I arrive at my house and pull into the driveway between cars parked on the street. Something looks different about the place, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. I get out of my car and haul the first load of supplies from my trunk.

  When I open the door to the shed, quite a surprise is waiting for me. What is usually like a junkyard has been completely cleaned up—my paintings are in neat arrays of vertical shelving units along the walls, and the paints are lined up like a rainbow above a long workbench. The mess of old scrap metal and trinkets that were in boxes when I moved in here last summer are all gone. It looks like a small heating unit is in the corner waiting to be installed. Even the windows of the shed have been cleaned, and rays of late afternoon sunlight are shining through at brilliant, inspiring angles.

  I have a proper studio to work in, with everything including easels set up and ready for use. On one of the easels there is the caricature of Micah and me done by the artist in the park—where we both look stiff and rather bland. On the other easel is a new caricature drawing of Micah and me dressed up like Homecoming King and Queen riding in a convertible.

  In the middle of the newly-arranged studio, Micah stands holding a whistle.

  “What on earth is going on here?” I ask.

  Micah smiles and says, “Transformation, my love.” And he blows the whistle. The shrill sound reverberates outward, then he gives a call, “Ready!”

  A response comes from behind the shed, “Okay!” And the sound of a snare drum and trumpet follows.

  Soon, I am being lifted onto the shoulders of a couple of big burley football players and carried into my backyard garden, with the rest of the football team hustling them on. The cheerleaders are shaking their pompons while cheering—“Alicia and Micah, the Best of the Best!” The team and cheerleaders move fast, arranging me under the rose trellis, where the last of the roses are still in bloom for the season. I’m enthroned on a chair, and a crown like the Homecoming Queen would wear is placed on my head. Then Micah comes around and kneels before me.

  There’s a drum roll, and the trumpet gives a salute.

  Then Micah takes m
y hand and says, “My Alicia, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving this morning. I hurried back as soon as I could—after rounding up my kids. We worked hard this afternoon, all so I can show you how much I want to be in your life.”

  Tears are welling up in my eyes. No one has ever gone out of their way to do something like this for me in my entire life. I don’t know what Micah is going to say next, but I am listening.

  “I want to make you the center of my universe. I want to be here when you need me. Your art is as important as my teaching, so I’ve talked to my kids and there are several who are hoping you’ll give them art lessons—Theresa from the barbeque Friday is one of them. She did the Homecoming King and Queen caricature of us on the easel in the shed.”

  Looking around, I see Theresa in her uniform, smiling hopefully.

  “Alicia,” Micah turns to me with a serious expression on his face. “From now on, every other Friday instead of having barbeques, let’s do something that focuses on your art—whether it’s going to a museum, or having an art class with the students…”

  “Oh, Micah, that sounds like a beautiful idea.” By now, tears are rolling down my face, and Theresa steps forward to hand me a tissue.

  “I want to make you the center of my life, Alicia,” Micah asserts.

  Then a few of the football players, with Jim as their leader, step forward and Jim adds, “Mr. Ford has done so much for us, and we really want to see him happy. You can bet that we’re going to do everything we can to cheer him on. And now we’ll let you two have some time to yourselves.”

  With that the trumpet player starts a jazzy sort of selection, and the students, the cheerleaders, and football players march away, leaving Micah and me alone in the garden.

  Micah holds my hand while tears roll down my face. I hear the voices of the teenagers fading into the distance, their car doors opening and closing, and then peace fills the night.

  “You’re my queen,” Micah says. “I want to treat you like royalty, my love. Will you let me be the king of your heart?”