by Nina Strych
“Not a bad comparison.” He bent and pointed to a tiny scar on the tree. “Do you see that?”
“Aww,” she murmured and touched the scar with a hesitant finger as if soothing a hurt.
“It’s okay. Really. In this case, I’m working on grafts onto different rootstock so the tree is better suited to a dry environment and makes the most out of less water. Lots of growers do that, but I’m branching out, so to speak. Anyway, apricots actually need to be under stress now and then. Otherwise, they get lazy.”
She stood and looked at him, “Just like people!”
“Pretty much.”
She looked out at her tiny balcony, empty of anything at the moment because it got too hot out there in the summer to enjoy. And the mosquitoes were a nightmare around here for whatever reason. “Will it be okay out there?”
He nodded. “Sure. Just give it time to acclimate and move it in stages. It should be fine for now.”
She came up on her toes and kissed him on the chin. “Thank you. That’s so wonderful of you.”
Mike couldn’t resist touching her any longer—he was clearly a failure at trying to be polite and date-like. He grabbed her by the behind and pulled her to him, leaning down to run his lips along her beautiful neck. She smelled of herself and it was intoxicating.
“Well, it’s self-pollinating, but they always do better with another tree around. You’ll want to find it a mate. Or I can provide that service as well.”
She shivered and pressed her hips against him, making him rise to the occasion in an instant. Her hand snaked up around his neck and she pulled him down, nipping at his neck in return. Into his ear, she whispered, “Oh, I think I definitely need mating services. All the mating services.”
And that was more than he could bear to resist. Sweeping his hands from her delightful rear down the back of her thighs, he lifted her up and settled her onto his front, pressing his cock against her jeans and feeling the slight pain of it as a pleasure.
“Where’s the bedroom.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around him and kissed him hard, her hips rotating against him. Without even fully breaking the kiss, she said, “Right.”
There were only two doors aside from the entry in the small apartment, and he carried her over until her back bumped up against the flimsy wood. She reached down for the knob and then he pushed it open, holding a foot out to keep it from bouncing back on them. The thwang of the little stopper as it took the impact was loud, but he ignored it.
Breaking the kiss only enough that he could see the room, he saw the spare furnishings, the small room, but his focus was on the bed. He walked them over until his knees hit the edge of the mattress and then he gripped her ass and tossed her onto the bed.
It squeaked alarmingly at the impact and she grinned up at him as she bounced on the surface.
“We are so going to break this bed, aren’t we?” she asked, spreading her legs and then slapping them back together again in a tease.
“Total annihilation.”
Amy sucked in her lower lip, giving him a flash of her teeth as she bit down on the deep pink flesh. His cock almost jumped out of his pants and did the hula at the sight. Her skin was tinged peach with desire, her eyes dilated and eager. She laid back and moved to pull off her shirt, but he couldn’t have that, not yet.
He wanted to take her. All of her.
Mike grabbed her legs and yanked her toward him. Her hands flew away from her shirt at the unexpected movement and she looked up at him, uncertainty on her face but also excitement.
“No,” he said, his voice firm.
She nodded and laid her hands flat on the bed, fingers spread and waiting for what came next. The sight of her spread like that, open and vulnerable, sexy and enticing, her shirt rucked up enough that he could see the pale skin of her belly rise and fall in quick, excited breaths…it was almost too much.
He moaned at the sight and leaned over to reach for her jeans, yanking the buttons apart and exposing the top of her panties. Again, they were patterned cotton, this time sprinkled with little yellow cartoon characters doing silly things. He bent and kissed the flesh at the waistband, darting quick licks under the elastic as her legs made little movements as if she were straining not to lift them around him.
He pressed down on her thighs so she couldn’t move and then looked up at her. “Not a move.”
She gasped a little, her face the very picture of desire. She should be a painting. A perfect piece of art, he thought. She nodded a little, then rolled her eyes closed when he pressed down on her sex with his chin. He smiled at how ready she was. He was too, but they’d been apart for three days and he wanted to explore her, to see how far they could take their need before giving in.
He had to leave her jeans alone, the very idea of the delights underneath making him far too eager. Circling the bed, he ran his fingers along the inside of her arm all the way to her wrist, the touch as soft and light as he could make it. Her fists clenched and he bent to press a kiss to her inner elbow, licking the faint crease there just once.
At the side of the bed where her head lay, her hair spread out around her like a silken cloud, he put his hands to each side of her neck and stroked upward until he had all of her hair in his hands like a thick, dark ponytail. He tugged it gently back, stretching her neck to the side and then bending to lick along the sensitive skin there. He knew she liked it, and the evidence of it appeared again as she squeezed her eyes shut and moaned quietly.
Biting along the muscles, he kissed each bite away until he saw her fists twisting into the blankets, the muscles in her forearms standing out as she tried to keep still. He let his fingertips touch lightly down her chest, teasing more than touching, until he had the hem of her tee. He pulled it off and she heaved out a sigh of relief, as if she might now be given what she needed.
“Not yet,” he whispered into her ear. “Not a word.”
Her eyes opened again, her gaze hot and feverish. He could tell she was struggling not to argue with him, but in the end she pressed those full lips together and gave him a tiny nod.
Her breasts were like twin temptations under her bra. It was white, purely functional. No lacy confections for her, and the sight of it made him throb with the desire to forget everything except plunging himself into her until they both came. Amy’s eyes shifted to his jeans and she licked her lips. He wanted to free himself and see her lips on him, watch her kiss and lick him and know that she was his.
But no. If she was enduring the waiting, he would too. Or he would try.
Lifting her shoulder, he undid the clasp of her bra and then pulled it away, freeing her breasts and the already hardened nipples. He couldn’t resist those little nubs of flesh and he bent over her to bite first one and then the other, licking the hurt away as she groaned and reached her head up to press her lips to the cock still held fast by his jeans. Reaching down, he quickly unsnapped his jeans and pushed away his underwear, letting himself spring free.
Her tongue flicked along his length, as much as she could reach without moving anyway, and he felt the blood surge in him. He gritted his teeth and then bent back to her nipple, sucking it in and rolling his tongue as her body trembled. She smelled of hot skin and her own desire. He breathed her in and tried to hold onto his reason as she kissed his cock and made little noises of frustrated desire.
Mike yanked himself back, tossed the condom from his pocket onto the bed and pushed his jeans off. His shirt hit the floor a second later. Then he jumped onto the bed, turning to straddle her chest with his knees. He dragged his cock across her chest, then allowed her to take in the tip when she lifted her head, her moan a vibration through it, her mouth so wet he almost came. He had to taste her and soon.
Her jeans came down and her panties with them. The short brown hair on her sex that hid her from him couldn’t erase from his mind the glories he knew lay just beyond. He bent and kissed her inner thighs, that delicious place where her leg ended and her sex began, the
perfect pout of her outer lips.
Tasting her was like entering a new world, one that overwhelmed the senses and removed reason. It took away all the effects of civilization and made him as man once was, filled with need and recognizing no gentle manners.
She clamped around his finger when he entered her, the slickness an invitation he could barely resist. She moaned and gripped the covers, pressing her hips up to his face in a wordless demand. He was more than happy to oblige and he licked the soft, hot flesh, pressing his lips to her clit and letting his tongue slide so softly over it that the tiny nub felt as hard as a pebble.
Amy gasped and arched her back, her legs trembling but staying open exactly as he had pushed them. He pressed his finger into her, then twisted and rubbed along that ridge of flesh inside that brought such pleasure. He felt a rush of wetness inside her as it did its work. He groaned as he pressed his tongue to her clit, sliding around the nub in the way he knew drove her insane. She would be so wet when he slid into her and the thought made his cock ache, far past mere desire now. He was aching for her.
She came so hard and quick that he had to press her legs open, his finger still buried deep inside so he could feel the contractions and the way they were mirrored in his own body, as if the waves could be transferred from one body to another.
Amy jerked as he gave her hyper-sensitized clit a hard flick of his tongue and he rose from his knees only enough to rub the head of his cock against her wetness, sliding it up and down the swollen flesh. He thought she must be sated, needing a break to calm down, but he was wrong. She bit her lip and rolled her hips up, trying to press him into her.
When he looked into her eyes, hers were full of need and she made a small sound. He smiled and then pulled away, earning him a whine of protest. Gripping her hips, he flipped her over onto her stomach. Before she could make to rearrange herself, he climbed up and pulled her arms over her head, holding her fast and stretching along the length of her, nudging her beautiful ass with his cock.
She pressed her cheek into the bed, arching up to meet him and he couldn’t resist even a moment longer. He leaned back and pulled her hips up, the dimples above her bottom deep and beckoning. She’d remained as he put her, arms above her head while he held her ass up.
“Brace on your hands,” he said and she did, lifting her head so that her back bowed and her ass rounded.
Spreading her knees with his own, he quickly tore open the condom and winced at how sensitive he’d become when he rolled it on. Rubbing against her wetness, he moaned at the feeling and then plunged into her. She felt like silk and wetness and tight ecstasy. Squeezing him with the walls of her pussy, she moaned and banged back into him, arching and then rounding her back as she slid herself onto him.
He kneaded her ass and watched as it shook with each impact, the sight almost putting him over the edge. He lifted her and pressed her back against his chest, changing the angle of him inside her. She gasped and groaned, grinding her hips and straining for more. Mike knew this wasn’t going to go on for long, not with her on fire like this and driving him on.
He bit that strong muscle connecting her neck to her shoulder and held her fast against him with one arm, reaching down with the other. He kept up the pressure, the rhythm of them and matched it with his finger above her clit. There were no more rules now, only this and she gasped out, “Yes!” Her hand covered his, forcing his fingers to go faster, her hips pistoning against him.
Mike knew the moment had arrived. The walls of her pussy fluttered against him and she moaned, so he let himself go, the wave hard and so intense it was almost painful. But it was good, unprecedented.
She collapsed onto him, and he moved his hand to her belly, hugging her more than squeezing her, but unwilling to let her go entirely. He felt this way with her, and only with Amy. Mike thought all those platitudes that said sex was better with someone you loved might actually be right.
Love? Already?
He hugged her close and felt the exhaustion in her, happy exhaustion. She laughed and that pushed him out of her with a hint of pain. He shuddered and that added some mischief to her low, post-sex laugh.
If this was love, or going there, then Mike was okay with that. His only fear was that it might not lead to the same place for her. He’d do whatever it took to help her get there. He wanted her, wanted to win her…wanted to be with her for as long as the world let him live.
Thirty
Saying goodbye after two days of blissful togetherness in her teensy apartment was hard, but necessary. Mike had a job interview—the kind where he kept his clothes on and diddled around with plants instead of lady-parts. They didn’t talk specifics because Amy sensed he had some pride issues going on in terms of financials. Even so, there was no way working at a corporate nursery was going to pay what being a top-shelf escort did.
That said, he seemed excited about the job. He spoke of trees with real love and Amy thought he’d been missing working with them. And this wasn’t a box store or a place where people bought their annual tray of petunias. It was a corporate mega-nursery and he was applying for a position in the tree department where grafting and such was done. Since his experience reached back to his first graft at a mere five years old, he felt pretty good about the quick callback he’d received.
She really wished him luck. He needed to get that boost. What she didn’t understand was why he’d held on to a place he wanted to sell. If it was a ruin or held bad memories, then why hang on? He seemed fine with it now, but he’d been selling himself to keep it and that didn’t actually make sense.
Amy supposed he might be feeling like she had felt when it came time for her to decide what to do with her father’s house. Of course, she’d not had the luxury of waiting and hanging on—and had never even considered extremes to keep it—so it had gone up for sale as soon as possible. But she hadn’t wanted to sell it quite yet. Every ding on the wooden floor and every mark on the doorframe with a date and a line showing her height was a memory she treasured.
Before the cleaners came that last day to prepare the house for showing, she’d walked the small rooms and cried at each memory. If she’d been able to keep the house, would she have done the same as Mike? Maybe. Actually, probably.
Then again, she would have kept it and moved in had she been able to afford to. That thought lodged into her brain, making her pause as she took off the sheets for washing. Was he selling now because he was no longer in a position to keep hanging on? Because of her?
The smell of Mike wafted up as she gathered the cheap cotton into her arms. She bent to breathe him in and closed her eyes, already missing him. The way his wavy hair looked like a fright wig when he woke in the mornings made her laugh. That strange little dance he performed whenever he did anything in the kitchen sent her into giggles. The way he wrapped his big arms around her when they laid back on her scratchy couch and watched TV made her feel safe and loved.
Love.
She did feel it, but whether he felt it or was simply the best new sort-of-boyfriend ever was a question. As for her, she knew it was coming. It felt inevitable. Ridiculously fast…crazy fast even, but coming nonetheless.
She’d already had the big talk with herself, looking into the mirror and questioning herself so seriously she’d cracked herself up. Was it the sex? That he’d let loose something in her and helped her let go? It didn’t hurt, but she knew that wasn’t it.
She was falling in love with his goofy side, his funny side, his sensitive side that could be hurt by the casual cruelty of those who mistakenly thought they were somehow better than him. Even the way he liked a blanket over his legs on the couch “because it’s comfy” while he watched TV was perfect. She liked her blankie too.
But what about that farm? Grove, she corrected herself. She stuffed the sheets along with the rest of her laundry into the pillowcases and then grabbed her keys. The laundry room in this complex wasn’t safe, so she always went to Marion’s place to do laundry. She supposed that soo
n she wouldn’t need to do that anymore and the thought saddened her.
Maybe if she only gave herself the salary that she always intended to give herself—but inevitably rolled back into the company so that she lived on minimum wage—she could just have a normal life and not feel so uncomfortable. Give herself a raise every year or something so she felt useful.
Whatever, that was for later. For now she had no clean underwear, so she grabbed the overstuffed bags and headed out.
*****
“This is all good! A little fast for my liking, but good!” Marion squealed and grabbed her knees in a vice-grip, shaking her so hard that Amy’s glass of wine was seriously under threat.
With the rumble of the dryer going in the background, Amy was well on her way to being half-lit and she had spilled all the beans to Marion. Not the private parts that she felt belonged only to her and Mike, but enough that she’d shared the essence of it.
And Marion was excited for her. She wasn’t judging or asking the kind of questions that were meant to make her think twice about her feelings. She was simply excited, thrilled even. She did probe a little too deeply on the question of what her orgasms felt like, as if comparing them to be sure they were up to snuff.
But now she was very satisfied with Amy’s answers.
“What do you think about that farm story though? I mean, does it sound like he’s doing it because of me? I don’t want him to put himself in a situation where he’s doing something he doesn’t want to do because he can’t earn the same kind of money anymore.”
Marion shrugged and appeared deep in thought. Picking up her wine to take a sip, she grunted as if she had a thought. “Why don’t you just ask him directly. I mean, you have money.”
Amy knew that wouldn’t fly and the expression on her face must have communicated that well enough.
“Okay, pride aside, if you knew for sure that he was selling only because of the money, what would you do?”
That was a good question, and one Amy didn’t have an answer for. There was no right answer. If she offered, then he might feel like he was at a disadvantage with her or beholden to her and that could make things difficult. If she did nothing and he sold when he didn’t want to, then might he someday resent her? Then again, if she interfered with something he really wanted to do, he might see her as intruding and overbearing.
