The Arrangement

by Jennifer Hartley

  “God, Sasha. Don’t stop.”

  She blushed and tossed the boxers away.

  Eric’s cock was thick and getting thicker, longer. It was as beautiful and elegant as the rest of him, a hard column of pinkish flesh surrounded by golden curls, with heavy, plump balls. Sasha’s hand shook as she grasped the shaft, angling it for the swoop of her mouth. Her thumb traced the thick vein on the side of his penis, drawing a grunt from Eric. Gently, she stroked him, watching his eyes close and his lips part. Her name hung between hisses and gasps.

  When her tongue circled the head of his cock, Eric suddenly stiffened before jerking against her. The tendons in his shoulders stood out, the veins in his neck tensed as her wet, sucking kisses revived and destroyed him. Her licks were shy, but the expression on her face was of hunger, of yearning. His flavor covered her tongue, layered with the slight salt of pre-cum.

  “Sasha.” He sounded both agonized and pleased.

  She opened her mouth, closing around the perfectly round head of his cock. Up and down her head bobbed, gentle and matched with leisurely kisses of her mouth. She continued to stroke up and down his cock, raising it a little to take a deep whiff of his balls. A shudder broke through her at this intimate scent only she knew. Then she lipped them, her kisses gentle but driving Eric to squeeze his eyes shut.

  “Fuck. Sasha.” He opened his eyes briefly to paw at her hair. A soft pull, and he pulled her away, bringing her back to his cock. His hand joined hers on his cock as he pointed it toward her mouth. Eagerly, she wrapped her lips around him and sucked.

  He tasted good, really good. The slight salt of his flesh, the velvety texture of his hard cock tickling her tongue, the back of her throat. Up and down his cock, her head moved. His cock glistened brighter with her saliva at every slide.

  She lost herself in the taste and sensation of Eric, closing her eyes in rapture. She never enjoyed giving oral sex until Eric. Before, she only did it to distract a boyfriend from fucking her. Now she knew that the greatest pleasure was in giving it, and for Eric, she would give, always.

  His hand grabbing and tapping her shoulder alerted her. His breathing was harsher, and he was growling her name. But as she had always done with him, she tightened her mouth around his cock. Eric groaned, his entire body tensing before he jetted in her mouth. She moaned, gagging instinctively before swallowing greedily.

  The deep, sucking motions of her mouth continued even after Eric collapsed weakly on the bed, his arms wide open. He took deep, slow breaths. His cock softened, resting warm and heavy on her tongue. With great reluctance, she released him. Vivid scarlet colored her face and neck; her eyes were bright with dilated pupils. She was still messy with swallowing - semen trickled down the side of her mouth down to her neck. She used the sleeve of her robe to wipe herself clean.

  Eric, limp and with a drunken smile on his face, looked at her and said, “I thought you wanted eggs for breakfast, pretty, not sausage.”

  Though she reddened some more, she retorted, “I thought to have an appetizer.”

  Eric gave her a weary thumbs-up sign. “You sure did, pretty.”

  In spite of Sasha’s naughty wake-up incentive, close to two months went without them engaging in anything more than quick, awkward kisses. In sleep, they kept a polite distance, but as the night deepened, their bodies would move toward each other. They woke up entwined, Eric’s hand resting firmly on the warmth between her legs or Sasha lying half on top of him, filling his ear with her bear-like snores.

  The conversation was never a problem, as well as laughter. But they couldn’t speak about the pregnancy scare because neither knew how to approach it. The idea of a baby with Sasha was not unwelcome, Eric would come to realize, but the timing as well as the clarity of who he was and where he stood with her were far from ideal. He was losing sleep wondering when she would tell him again, under darkness, that she loved him. If she couldn’t look at him when she said it, then he’ll take her whispers in the dark.

  Sasha was staying longer in school because of preparations for her practical and written exams - she could easily study at home, but home meant Eric, and though she loved him, she felt as if she was in front of a firing squad. Her mind was filled with images of her husband looking grim and their prenup in his hands. It had a clause that clearly stated the reasons for their marriage and what she would benefit from the arrangement. Another was they were to never have a child.

  She didn’t not want a child, but they still had things to settle in their . . . relationship. They were fools to think all they had was an arrangement, she realized. But she was too scared to broach the subject with Eric. She trusted him. She just didn’t trust herself to deal with the fallout.

  One morning, Eric woke up first. He stared at Sasha, curled on her side as she slept. Her soft, clean, soapy scent washed over him - he didn’t have to take a deep breath to be soaked in it. A whiff and it was in his system, arrowing toward his cock and making it rise toward her. He shuddered, seized by the surprise and the thrill of a hard-on so quick. His hand shook as it touched her warm cheek.

  “Sasha,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Sweetheart.”

  A month, three weeks, and six days since they last touched. Though things seemed normal after the tests turned out negative, there was tension. He never stopped desiring his wife, but he felt that they both needed some space. He didn’t think they’d need it so much that it would go for as long as it had. They should talk about the non-pregnancy, but he didn’t know how and worried that if he made the first move, he’d say something either insensitive or shoot him up the Asshole Hall of Fame.

  “Love,” he continued whispering, brushing kisses around her face. “Sasha.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “Hmm.”

  He pushed the blanket away from her, glancing at the nightshirt pooled high on her long legs before tugging it up. He palmed her pussy, groaning at the welcoming warmth and roughness of her pubic hairs. “Sasha, wake up.”

  He caressed her clit, causing her to moisten and ease the entry of his finger. She whined in her sleep, and her legs tightened instinctively around his hand. He pushed them apart, fucking her gently. He tongued a nipple through her shirt until the fabric was soaked and pressed like second skin. Her breathing quickened.

  Finally, her stunning blue eyes opened. Sleepy and soft, they stared at him with mild confusion. “Eric?” she slurred.

  He answered by taking her mouth. Her lips were dry, and her breath was stale, but he sank hard against her body, his cock prodded insistently against her bared thigh. She gasped softly, but her hands were firm on his shoulders; a long, smooth leg teased the suddenly sensitive line of his own leg before settling high on his hip. As they kissed, his fingers began fucking her faster.

  She suddenly ripped her lips from him, her mouth opening and closing as she gasped loudly. As his fingers swept her pussy wider to fuck her, his other hand pulled at the loose neckline of her shirt. Understanding what he wanted, she grasped it in her hands and tore it. Eric groaned at the sight of her little breasts. Freckles scattered around her chest. Her nipples. God, her nipples. Pink and so sweet. He eagerly took one in his mouth, sucking harshly to pull another gasp from her.

  He devoured her breasts without mercy, dragging one nipple at a time in his mouth, coaxing the soft buds to tighten. Every kiss and flick of his tongue on her breasts was a vow that he would be with her always and a plea for her to be with him. He was relentless, lips clamped around a swollen nipple as she whispered it was becoming too much. He pressed a gentle kiss on the red nub, moving up to take her mouth. He watched her watching him through half-closed eyes as they kissed, and he hoped, with all his heart, she would tell him now. His fingers returned to her pussy, pleased to find her dripping. She was always moist when he began, but right now, it was like dipping his fingers into a pot overflowing with honey. It made his mouth water, and he longed to taste it because it was sweeter than any nectar that the gods could have possessed.

  But it
was his name rather than those three words that fell from her lips, a whine like a broken cello string rather than a song. His kisses faltered, yet his fingers continued fucking her pussy, the rough, wet sounds sweet, sweet music. She was breathtakingly unyielding, but the way she opened her legs and thrust against his fingers was welcoming. His cock, leaking as it rubbed against her thigh, begged to be reunited with her pussy after so fucking long. He missed her tongue sparring with him too much, the clutch of her pussy around his fingers. His thumb manipulated her clit, feeling it stiffen, making her squeal. Her eyes were round and dark as her hips moved against him at their own accord, taking his fingers deeper, like she was some sort of deep well but at the bottom of which the best and finest treasures lay.

  Her face was red and uglier, yet she was beautiful to him. She was perfect. Eric pulled his fingers out and forced them in her swollen mouth, watching her eyes widen in shock. He had to take her gently by the jaw, so she had no choice but to accept his fingers and taste the secret of her heart. His eyes burned like wildfire as she got acquainted with her flavor on him, her eyes closing as she sucked and swallowed. He came close to coming at the sight of her newfound enjoyment.

  “I want to fuck you.” He didn’t hide the desperation in his voice. “Let me fuck you.” He wished to fuck her for days, to be lost in the warmth and heart of her.

  Sasha opened her eyes. He gasped at the silver-tinged flames of her gaze. Taking a page off his book, she grabbed him by the hip and pulled him down. He smiled in relief before shoving his tongue in her mouth, his hand sliding between them for his fingers to resume their ferocious plunder of her pussy. She stiffened, sensitive now. But she wrapped her legs around him again and kissed him back. She was fierce, pushing against him, the rustle of the sheets under her hips a chorus to the fingers strumming the wet hairs of her slit.

  Tremors swept through her body, driving her to cling harder to him with her arms and legs. Eric buried his face in her neck momentarily before rising to look in her eyes, imploring that she tell him, now. He won’t leave if she trusted him. Let me hear the words.

  No words came but cries, whimpering, sexy nonsense that made his cock so hard he was grimacing and sweating from the pain. He yanked her legs over his shoulders, taking some smug delight in the surprise and uncertainty on her face. She blushed anew upon realizing how open and vulnerable she was in the position. Good. Because he was unarmored. He was wide open too.

  He was rough in spreading her pussy lips open and rougher when he rammed inside her in one thrust. She growled, shutting her eyes briefly at the intensity of their joining. He didn’t let her catch a breath, his hips immediately adopting a frantic pace that made her blush some more and look disbelievingly at how her pussy easily took his cock. Her eyes, so beautiful, his weakness, drove him to bury his face in her shoulder. As his cock got lost in the tightness of her, he bathed in the scent and feel of her - sweat, supple skin, freckles. The tight muscles of her pussy squeezed and rippled around him, a sweet and heady invitation to sweet, complete surrender. He didn’t resist. He could never resist. He didn’t care if it made him a weak man. He was with her. It was the only thing that mattered.

  He groaned against her ear as he felt the first waves of his release. As the tension built up, he turned, opening his mouth to sink his teeth on her firm shoulder as it peaked. She jerked from the bite, her nails burrowing in his shoulders in both retaliation and pleasure. Harsh breathing and slaps of sweaty flesh came from their bodies as they rode through the waves, finishing with a violent shudder. He rested his entire weight on her, listening to their gentle breathing. Then he pushed himself up, brought her legs back down before returning her head on his chest. She cradled him against her, holding him securely, and it almost made him laugh. He should be the one protecting her.

  He captured a small breast, circling a finger on the turgid nipple to incite a soft moan from her. His lips brushed lazily on her half-open mouth.

  “Do you have to go to school today?” He kissed down her throat until reaching her breasts. He covered them with more kisses, wetted her nipples with his tongue.

  “I - I have one last exam.” He thought she sounded disappointed.

  Still kissing her breasts, he said, “Oh. I forgot.”

  He was getting hard again, but he wasn’t going to fuck her. Not now. But he was reluctant to move away from her, and the doubt in her eyes didn’t make it easy for him to stick to that decision. He pulled her up, feeling some enjoyment and satisfaction at the sight of her all flushed and sweaty still, her nipples red and glistening. She looked wonderfully ragged and sweetly well - fucked with her soft, sleepy blues and her sleep shirt torn and useless.

  “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he said, smiling as she blushed at the endearment. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Eric?” She asked as he turned away.

  There was something in her voice. His heart slammed into a stop for a second before resuming its beating. She’s going to tell me now. He looked at her.

  Her eyes were big and unsure. She clutched the blanket to her chest. “Eric, I - I - ”

  “Yes?”

  “I love - I would love it,” and she took a deep breath. “I would love it if you’ll join me later? I’m sorry for telling you just now, but you remember Jeremiah? He’s invited us to watch him play with his band. It’s like an end-of-the- term celebration.”

  He was so disappointed that he couldn’t hide it. Sasha looked apologetic. “I should have told you sooner.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  He stood up and so did she, still covering herself. “So . . . ”

  “I’ll still be there.” He managed to say, amazed that he wasn’t choking over the words.

  Sasha dragged her bow across the strings, lingering on the last note. Her fingers pressed on the strings on the neck, increasing the tension towards the end. Satisfied that she got the intended effect, she gradually relaxed, guiding the composition to a quiet end.

  “That,” said Professor Thomas Worthing, “was extraordinary, Sasha. Astounding effort. You really have the gift.”

  Her face and neck warmed in pleasure over her teacher’s praise. She smiled shyly. “Th - thank you, professor.”

  Professor Worthing’s kind, pale blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he returned her smile. “I look forward to your first solo performance, Sasha. And a front-row seat.”

  Sasha flushed even more. Professor Worthing proceeded to give her more notes regarding her practical exam, and she made sure to remember each of them. Done, she left the room and ushered the next student inside.

  She leaned against the door, letting out several deep breaths. She had done it. She survived the first semester of her return. And, if she were really confident, had aced her finals.

  Wearily, she picked up her cello case and walked down the hallway. It was still afternoon - three, to be exact, according to her watch. She texted Minette her last exam was done, and now she was going home to take a nap. Studying and practicing had been keeping her late in school. Now she could rest. She texted Eric next, telling him she was done with her exams and on her way home for a nap. The celebration at The Blue Chair looked like to be an all-nighter so she’ll have to be well-rested for that. She hoped Eric could join her too.

  Since her pregnancy scare, they had been kind of tiptoeing around each other. The great thing about them was they never ran out of things to talk about and had a genuine interest in each other’s work. They were okay in that department. But the sex - which she never thought in her life could be so integral to what they had, whatever it was - had been missed. She missed coming home to Eric’s amorous kisses and hands loosening her clothes, falling asleep resting on his warm chest, legs tangled around his and sticky and smeared from their fucking. When he woke her up the way he had this morning, she thought she had been dreaming. She felt complete when he was inside her.

  But she sensed something in him - she didn’t know what it was - only that he seemed to be . . .
expecting something from her. They still haven’t talked about what happened. He had been unusually quiet too during the drive to school. When she asked if he was alright, he told her he was and kissed her. She wouldn’t have let him off easily - she may be a bad liar, but she knew when she was being lied to - but she had two more exams.

  They had to talk about what happened. She wasn’t looking forward to opening a possible can of worms, but something had changed between them and had to be addressed. If only she wasn’t scared to take the first step.

  Sasha walked a block to the subway, more than eager to take a seat and just clear her mind for the ten-minute ride. From there, she walked two more blocks. She passed by Eric’s favorite patisserie and got some treats before continuing her way home.

  Eric’s car was parked across the street, so he was probably at home. She expected him to be still out - she knew he went to the park for a couple of hours every day and also did errands. She was smiling as she unlocked the door, remembering overhearing an argument between Aida and Eric where he was being pressured to get an assistant. Her husband was rich, but he was particularly stingy over things he deemed as unnecessary expense. Before she returned to school, she spent the afternoon posing for him, and they would fuck afterward. Eric didn’t like having another person underfoot that required him to check on his behavior when he itched to grab his wife’s ass.

  There was a pile of mail, so she picked them up before unlocking the next door. She held the package of warm chocolate chip cookies between her teeth, the mail tucked under the arm of the hand holding the cello. The door opened with a squeak, drawing Eric’s eyes from the piece he was working on.

  “Love,” he exclaimed, quickly discarding his paintbrush to the side and racing toward her. He took the mail from her mouth and her cello. Murmuring her thanks, Sasha held the cookies and turned to close the door.