by Lane Hart
We were supposed to have one more date before we got to this point. Then she reminded me about the first night we had dinner together. I wanted her even then. And fuck, do I want her now. I can’t risk getting her pregnant, though. Once I’m inside of her, there’s no way I’ll be able to stop, so the pull-out method, as risky as it is, is not even an option.
Damn, do I hate it too. At least Cynthia enjoyed herself tonight, if nothing else.
I kiss my way up her pelvis and stomach, loving the sweet flavor of her skin, and taking a pitstop at her beautiful breasts before brushing my lips over her lips.
“You’re…really good at that,” she says softly, reaching up to cup the side of my face and kiss me back.
“Thank you,” I reply with a small smile against her lips. “I enjoy doing it. Plan to do it more often…”
“Good,” she replies. Then, lifting her head to look down the length of my body, she asks, “Why aren’t you naked yet?”
“As much as I hate it,” I start. “We’re gonna have to wait until that tenth date.”
“Why?” Cynthia asks with her brow furrowed.
“I didn’t bring any condoms.”
“Oh,” she says with a heavy sigh. “Don’t worry. I did.”
“You did?” I ask in surprise.
“I keep a few in my purse for emergencies,” she explains.
“Thank fuck,” I say in relief. “I didn’t want to take any chances with you.”
“I appreciate your consideration,” Cynthia says. “Now, could you please retrieve the condoms from my purse and get naked?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I agree, giving her a quick kiss before I push myself to my feet and then walk over to grab her purse.
“They’re in the front zipper,” she directs. I unzip the pocket and find not one condom but an entire roll of them.
“What?” she asks as I stand there counting, and yes, it’s a dozen, an entire pack. “I like to be prepared, and I own a sex shop. Are you judging me?”
“No, absolutely not,” I tell her. “I just hope you’re not overly optimistic about how many of these we’ll use tonight.”
“As many as you want, hon,” she responds, so I bring them all over just in case.
When I’m standing next to Cynthia, she moves to her knees to start undoing my jeans for me…and it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Completely naked with her red waves flowing down to her breasts, the dancing blue water reflects onto her ivory skin, making her look like a sexy mermaid from my wildest fantasy as she removes my boots and jeans.
A naughty mermaid who then takes the condoms from me and licks my cock up one side and down the other before she removes one of the rubbers from the foil packets and covers me with it.
“Jesus, woman,” I groan once she’s done and I hit my knees in front of her. Threading my fingers through the sides of her hair, I ask, “Are you absolutely sure about this, though?”
“Yes. Unless you’ve changed your mind…” she answers before lowering her eyes.
“Are you fucking kidding?” I ask, tilting her head to lift her emerald gaze to mine again. “I’m dying to be with you, sunshine.”
“Good,” she replies with a smile. “So, then why does it feel like you’re still delaying?”
Fuck, how do I even begin to explain the shit that’s churning around in my head. Finally, I say, “I just want you to know that it’s been a long time for me.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure you remember how things work,” she says while her fingers play with the back of my hair.
“No, it’s definitely not that,” I respond. “What I mean is, you’ve done this a lot more than I have, and I don’t want you to be disappointed if I’m a little rusty, unlike most of my brothers.”
“Oh,” she mutters, finally seeming to understand my uncertainty.
It’s not because she’s been with other men, or the fact that they were my brothers. I’ve moved past that, I think. But after all this time, I just don’t want to be a disappointment for her. I want to be better than any of her former lovers, which seems like an impossible task at the moment. I’m jealous that she may prefer someone else to me after all is said and done.
“There’s actually one thing that I’ve never had with another man, but have always wanted…”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I ask, my eyebrows lifting with interest, wanting to know what it is that I may be able to give her that she’s been missing out on her whole life.
“No one’s ever made love to me,” she says. “Maybe…maybe you could do that?”
“I can definitely do that,” I assure her as I lean forward, our lips meeting as I guide her down to her back on the sleeping bag. Our kiss becomes more and more feverish as she squirms underneath me, her hips rocking as she seeks to line our bodies up and take me inside her. I break our kiss with a grin, as she grips my hips and pants in lust.
Reaching behind her head I grab one of the pillows that I brought, then lift her upper body to sweep her hair out behind her, propping her up while making sure that her long red locks aren’t trapped underneath of her. “Well, that was considerate,” Cynthia laughs as I push her down onto the pillow and run my tongue down her neck, nipping at her shoulder.
My only reply is a slight growl I can’t suppress as I move down to her breasts, squeezing and licking at them zealously. Her body is perfection, and finally being able to take my time and enjoy every inch of her leaves me speechless. As I begin trailing kisses down her belly, my hands run down to the small red patch of hair; and I cup her pussy that seems to be radiating heat in my palm. “Hmmm…” I mumble. “Let me taste you again.”
Before I can do more than swipe my tongue once across her swollen clit, she grabs my upper arms and tugs me gently back towards her face. “Later,” she whispers. “I want you inside me, Reece. Right now.”
I let her guide me back up her body, our lips crashing together as we give in completely to our passion. When she rolls her hips underneath me again, I move to meet her, my cock sliding easily into her slick heat. I let her moans and movements guide my pace, never breaking our kiss as our bodies quickly find a slow rhythm together, both of us grinding against each other in unison.
We become lost in the gentle dance, our pace only interrupted on occasion as Cynthia’s body clenches and her breathing becomes frantic as orgasm after orgasm leaves her shuddering. I have no idea how much time has passed, lost in the heat of our shared desire, but Cynthia suddenly breaks our kiss when I feel my balls draw tight and my lower belly quiver.
“You feel so good filling every inch of me,” Cynthia moans. “Come with me, please!” she cries as our pace becomes more frantic, her hips thrusting up at me as I pull her closer, slamming myself into her as deeply as I can. She finally milks my orgasm from me, an explosion that leaves me gasping for breath and my ears ringing from the exertion.
“God, Reece. That was so…wow,” Cynthia eventually says.
“Yeah, it was,” I agree with a grin as I finally push myself off of her, and flop over onto my back.
As soon as the condom is off, I look up at the ocean life swimming above us. They seem absolutely unaffected by the fact that my entire world just shifted.
I’ve never felt as close to anyone as I do with Cynthia, especially when I was inside of her. We were connected, more than just our bodies. It was…spectacular, which isn’t a word I’ve ever used in my life.
When she throws her leg over mine to cuddle up to my chest, I wrap an arm around her back to pull her closer, never wanting this moment with her to end.
Cynthia’s fingertips draw unknown designs on my stomach as we both lie there soaking in the blissful afterglow and taking in the relaxing, aquatic scene around us. Gradually, her fingers begin to move up and over my lips.
“I had no idea you had cute little dimples,” she says. “You should smile more often.”
Forcing my face into a fake scowl, I tell her, “I’m not doing anything again that can b
e referred to as ‘cute’ or ‘little.’”
“Oh yeah?” Cynthia asks, her fingertip gliding lower to the indention at the bottom of my chin. “Well, this cute little cleft chin never leaves your face, so you’re shit out of luck.”
“I’ll try and shave it off,” I joke. “A scar wouldn’t be either of those things.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” she huffs, placing a kiss on the chin dimple. “Besides, the five o’clock facial hair sprouting out of it makes it very manly.”
“Manly sounds better,” I say before her wandering fingers start to move lower, teasing around my belly button before circling my cock.
“Making love to you was beyond amazing,” I tell her. “But don’t think for a second that just because there’s even one thing you describe as ‘cute’ and ‘little’ about me, that I’m incapable of fucking you.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Cynthia says with a bark of laughter. “I wouldn’t want you going soft on me all of the time.”
“Nothing soft about me, sunshine,” I tell her, covering her hand to guide it up and down my swelling cock.
“No, there’s not,” she agrees, giving my shaft a few strokes before removing her hand. Before I can protest, she throws her leg all the way over me so that’s she’s completely straddling me naked, a gorgeous sight above me. “How about I ride you this time, and the next time you get to decide how you want to fuck me?” she offers.
“Oh, I already know,” I tell her, wrapping my hands around either sides of her waist and then sliding them around to cup her ass cheeks, giving them a rough squeeze. “I get to enjoy your beautiful tits in my face this round, so next time I want to see your gorgeous ass slapping against my stomach while I slam inside of you.”
“Oh, yes,” she moans, and I’m not certain if she’s referring to my words or my rock-hard cock swelling underneath her. With a roll of her hips, she lines my head up against her opening, still slick from our previous lovemaking. Pressing her palms to my chest, she lowers herself onto me, taking every inch of me until her clit is grinding against my pelvis. “Oh Reece, oh you beautiful fucking man,” she moans as she rocks against me, never letting an inch of me escape.
My hands reach up to grab her tits, and for the next few minutes we barely move, Cynthia’s hips doing all the work as she slowly rides my bare cock until her belly tenses and her breath becomes frantic as she comes apart above me.
“Oh shit! I almost forgot,” she sighs breathlessly as she raises herself off of me once her shivers subside. My still slick, rigid cock slams into my belly, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I raise an eyebrow at her in confusion for her abrupt halt until she goes over to her purse and comes back with yet another condom, which she quickly tears open and begins rolling onto me. I can’t believe I forgot about using protection, even for a second with her.
“Check this one out,” she giggles once she sheathes my cock inside the latex.
Looking down I see that this rubber is a greenish hue and seems to be…glowing. “It’s a glow-in-the-dark!” Cynthia laughs, wrapping one hand around the base of my cock. “Schwoom, schwoom,” she says as she begins waving my luminescent dick back and forth between us.
“Are you…are you making lightsaber noises with my dick?” I ask in shock, before a fit of laughter overtakes me.
“Schwoom, schwoom!” she says, louder as she shakes my cock before raising her leg and lining our bodies up again. Sinking down onto me, her giggles trail off into a moan. “Ah! Come, my young apprentice, let me show you the power of…the ginger side,” she says with mock fierceness.
I can’t control my laughter, even as she places her palms back on my chest and resumes her previous motions. It’s several long minutes before our giggles finally abate enough for us to get back to the serious task of lovemaking. For the next hour, the two of us finally get to vent all of our pent-up emotions towards each other, exploring and delighting in every inch of each other.
…
“Wow, even after three times I already know I’ll never get enough of you,” I tell Cynthia as my hands stroke her back and hair after having collapsed beside her.
“Good, because I really like sex and have missed it,” she says while placing a kiss on my chest before lifting her head to look at my face. “And we’re pretty amazing together.”
“Yeah, we are,” I agree, reaching up to twirl one of her curls around my fingers.
“Too bad we had to wait so long to find out,” she says. “And I don’t just mean the ten dates.”
“I was giving you time to recover. A man had just…hurt you. That’s why I didn’t make a move when you first came to the clubhouse.”
“Oh,” Cynthia says. “Well, he never hurt me that way.”
“He didn’t?” I ask. “I wasn’t sure…”
“No, fucking was his way of earning my forgiveness. Granted they were usually quick rounds and a little on the rough side, but never with the intention of hurting me. Most of the time he would just slap me across my face if I said something he didn’t like. The times I ended up in the hospital were when he was really angry, too angry to even think about sex.”
“What the hell would make him that mad at you?” I have to ask, even though I’m not sure I want to hear all the details of her painful past.
“The first time, I didn’t pay the power bill, so the lights and television went off right in the seventh inning of a Diamondbacks baseball game,” she explains. “We had to pay rent or power but didn’t have the money for both. I made a decision, so we wouldn’t end up on the street. He disagreed with my decision.”
“And he beat you for that?” I say through gritted teeth. “That was his own damn fault for not taking care of his responsibilities!”
“I know. But he was drunk and angry, and I was there to blame,” she says, laying her head on my chest so that I can no longer see her face. “A few weeks later, I was all healed up and staying with a friend. He apologized, begged me to come back, promised he would never hurt me again. I believed him. Stupid, I know, but he was charming and sweet when he wanted to be, which was about ninety-five percent of the time. Besides, a hot and heavy make-up fuck was always the one thing that seemed to mend whatever problems we had by taking our anger out on each other, getting it out of both of our systems. Or so it would feel like it for a little while…”
“What happened the third time, the one when you ended up here?” I ask even though I would rather have my fingernails pulled off than hear about the physical pain her piece of shit husband caused her.
“Oh, that beating was for wrecking his truck,” Cynthia says simply, as if that was a good enough excuse. “He was drunk, I was driving us home from the bar, totally sober. The brakes failed, and I couldn’t stop at a red light, so we rear-ended a car that rear-ended the car in front of it. And since he didn’t have insurance, we were going to have to pay thousands of dollars out of our pocket in damages.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“He pulled me out of the driver seat and started beating me right there on the side of the road. Someone or several people eventually pulled him off of me. I ended up spending a few nights in the hospital, and he ended up in jail. When they released me, I borrowed my friend’s car and drove it until the highway ended. We knew he was probably going to have his buddy bond him out soon, if not already. Once he was free, I was certain that he would eventually do the same thing to me, probably over and over again if I didn’t get as far away as possible. So, I left everything behind, all my photos and my grandmother’s recipes.” Cynthia pauses before continuing. “She had left me her antique porcelain tea set. It had these cute little green shamrocks on the sides. The set had been passed down in her family all the way from before they came here from Ireland. But at that point, I figured it was leave it behind or risk my life to try and get it back. I knew he would be furious with me for being the reason he ended up in a jail cell.”
“I’m sorry you had to make that decision,” I tell her. �
�Leaving your things behind.” Why didn’t I think to have someone pack up her things and put them in storage when I had that son of a bitch arrested?
“I still miss my grandmother, and I hate that there’s nothing left for me to remember her by.”
“You said she pretty much raised you?”
“Yeah, she did. And the first year after she passed, I was only seventeen and it was so hard. But then I met Kirk, and I thought he was a replacement for the love I had lost. I’ve never been more wrong about anything in my life.”
“You got married young too?” I ask, trying to recall the date of marriage I had found for her online.
“Yeah, I was just nineteen and he was twenty-five,” she responds. “How old were you when you got married? I don’t even know how old you are now, but I’m guessing you know my age.”
“You’ll be thirty on July sixteenth,” I answer without having to think about it. “And I’m... thirty-six.”
“Thirty-six?” she repeats. Giving my bicep a squeeze, she says, “I was thinking thirty-five or so. You’re holding up well, old man.”
A grunt is my only response.
“You said you went into the Army during college, so you must have gotten married before then. So, you were what, only nineteen or twenty?”
“Nineteen,” I answer. “Too young and too fucking naïve.”
“You thought you were in love. Me too. It happens,” Cynthia says.
“I was a stupid, arrogant kid who thought he was invincible,” I tell her. “We got married, and it seemed like everything was going well while I was deployed. So well, in fact, I decided to do another tour. I mean I enlisted, thinking there was no way my wife would stray while I was rotting away in the desert. Who would do that to a man serving his country, right?”
