He picked me up like a rag doll and got underneath me with his head on the pillow and my pussy on his face, my head and mouth aligned with his huge love muscle. The pictures he’d sent could never have prepared me for this big beautiful cock. I needed to taste him. He was moaning while he was making love to my pussy, and his sounds only made me wetter.
I came again, and like a gentleman, he waited until I was finished before he exploded into my mouth. He was salty and sweet and raw and I loved it.
In just forty-five minutes, I’d had two of the most powerful orgasms of my life. I thought we were done for a little while, but this guy hadn’t been lying when he said he could go all night long.
We lay on the bed together for a few minutes; I had to catch my breath. I was exhausted, but not willing to waste one minute on sleep.
Tyrone got up to use the bathroom and make us another round of drinks. His ass was round and muscular. I admired his incredible body from the bed, in awe of what this man had just done to me.
He brought over the drinks, and after I took a couple sips, he said, “Julia, I have to see what you taste like after you cum.”
I was lying on my back with my head on two pillows, and he very gingerly lapped at my pleasure garden, like he was tasting a new flavor of ice cream.
“You are delicious, Julia.” My body must have responded to that one lick; that one touch was all I needed to get turned on again.
He lay next to me, and we faced each other. Very slowly, he rubbed my clit near the walls of my muff until he slid one finger in, then another. He massaged me, moving inside me until he found my G-Spot.
He fingered me until I was close to exploding, and then he slipped on a condom and got on top of me. I was dying to feel this man inside me. First, he teased me with just the tip, and then he’d pull back. Then he gave me a little more; my G-Spot was vibrating from within, calling the tip of his hardness to come find it.
My body was shaking; I was dying to have him completely inside of me. I wanted every inch of his manhood. I arched my hips and tried to pull him closer.
“Not yet, be patient,” he whispered. He would go almost all the way in and then come back out. He was teasing me, and my body loved it.
“Please, Tyrone, I need to feel you. I need to feel all of you,” I begged him.
His body said okay, and he lay flat on top of my body. He started moving rhythmically, his hips gyrating in circles. It felt like he was dancing on top of me. Tyrone really knew how to move.
He kissed my ear and my neck and my lips and my eyebrows. He ran in his hands through my hair and locked eyes with mine.
“Julia, baby, fuck me! Oh, yeah . . . move that little bonbon. Bring it up to me so you can feel my balls slapping against your ass.”
He grabbed my ass, pulled it up toward him, and that was all it took for my body to once again shudder and scream in complete ecstasy.
“Oh my God, Ty! I’m coming!” I screamed so loud.
“Me too!” He moaned and thrust a few more times before I felt his body explode in ecstasy too.
I fell asleep for a short while and woke up to his hardness pressed against my booty and his big, strong hands cupping my breasts. Tyrone couldn’t keep his hands off me.
My ear felt a soft, sultry whisper. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I need you again.” He kissed my neck so tenderly, rubbed my breasts softly, and circled my nipples with his index finger.
Who could resist that?
I turned to face him, didn’t say a word, and just engulfed his full lips into mine. Tyrone moaned as we intertwined; he tasted sweet and salty and giving. His fingers outlined my jaw, and then he traced my lips and my eyebrows. He threw my hands behind my head. He kept his word and kissed every inch of my body.
He slid my panties off with one hand while kissing my belly button. I knew where he was headed, and my body ached in anticipation. I was getting wetter and wetter by the second. By the time his full lips made it to my pussy, I was already soaked.
“I need to give you a car wash,” he told me more than asked. Ty moved up to the top of the bed and told me to come straddle his face. Then he gently licked my pussy and told me to rock my hips a little.
He took a deep breath in. “I love the way you smell, the way you taste, Julia. I wanna eat your pussy all day and night.”
And he did. His tongue went in and out of my creaminess. His fingers pressed on my clit and moved inside me. He found my G-Spot and I never felt so much pleasure as I did in that exact moment of complete and utter explosion. I squirted everywhere, but it felt too good to stop.
“Fuck! Tyrone, fuck me now!” He threw me on the mattress with my head down against the pillow and obliged.
He was huge and throbbing and I needed it so much. I was still shaking from my last orgasm, but I couldn’t stop. Like an addict, I needed more and more. He pounded me until the edges of pain and pleasure blurred together. All I could do was moan and tell him, “More, yes, more!”
❧
On Saturday morning, I woke up to the sound of Tyrone walking back into the apartment. He had gone to Starbucks and bought us muffins, bagels, and lattes, mine sweet and light.
I rubbed my eyes and walked over to the kitchen table. “Thanks, Ty. I’m famished.” I stared into the coffee cup before I took a sip. Tyrone had asked me in a chat one morning how I took my coffee. He had remembered.
“Light and sweet, right, doll?” He wanted to make sure he got it just right.
I beamed at him. “Yes. Did you actually remember that?”
“Of course I did. Every guy needs to know how his girl takes her coffee.”
I was awestruck. In all our time together, Aaron never once prepared me a cup of coffee, and I was quite sure he didn’t know how I took it. Coffee. Stupid, delicious, addictive coffee brought on the realization of what I was seeking so desperately: someone who actually cared about the little things. Someone who cared about me.
Steam was rising from my Venti cup, so I blew on it gently before bringing the cup to my lips.
“Oh, Julia, that turns me on. Watching your lips form an O, I want to feel them on my shaft right now.”
Tyrone pulled down his workout pants and wrapped his fingers in my hair. He gently guided me to meet his thickness. I was aching to feel his magnificent cock in my mouth. He didn’t ask; he moved with power and command and just did, and that was a huge turn on.
“Kiss it a little, move that tongue around the head. Just a little, just a tease.”
My head nodded in agreement. Who was I to refuse such a feast for breakfast? I took him slowly, gently, adoringly.
His head tilted back in pleasure. “Oh, Julia, you feel too good. You suck cock like no one I’ve ever felt! Your lips were made for this.”
He held my hair and moved his hips back and forth, thrusting in and out of my mouth. “Just stay still for a minute. Relax your throat, angel.”
My gag reflex was strong, but I meditated and let my throat relax to accept him. Inch by inch, his hugeness slid deeper and deeper into my mouth. Finally, each of his nine inches was engulfed by my supple, pouty lips. I closed them slowly so he could feel their pressure, and he continued to thrust slowly and steadily.
“Mmm,” he moaned. Knowing he was feeling such pleasure got me so wet. Mere moments later, I knew he was close.
“Nod if it’s okay if I finish in your mouth.” He could barely speak.
I hummed and nodded my assent. Of course it was okay; I wanted him to. I needed to taste this man who knew how to make me scream like no other.
After the last of his hot love juice had cascaded down my throat, he took my face in his hands and kissed me intensely.
“That was extraordinary, darling.” He gazed at me with a satisfied smile, waltzed over to the brown paper bag, and shoved one of the fruit-filled muffins in his mouth. This was a man who knew exactly what he wanted and then took it. I was in awe of him.
We ate our muffins and drank our lattes like any other normal people
having a normal breakfast. But “normal” was the last thing I felt. I was giddy and excited, like I was high. I couldn’t remember the last time I was that happy. I felt nothing but pure, unrelenting joy.
After breakfast, we went to the gym and grabbed a smoothie at the café when we’d finished working out. Back at the apartment, when I came out of the shower, Tyrone stood in front of me with his hands behind his back. He bore a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
“I have a surprise for you. Pick a hand, any hand.”
“Oh . . . I love surprises.” I picked his right hand, the hand that had given me so much pleasure.
He whipped his hand around to reveal two tickets to see Wicked.
“Are you serious? I love Wicked! I haven’t seen it in years!”
“I know, darling. I remember you told me you were listening to the soundtrack on your iPod.”
This guy was freaking me out. Who actually remembers what song someone says they are listening to?
“Do you have a nice dress you can wear?” Tyrone’s eyebrows went up with his question. It was such a cute mannerism of his.
“Yup, I have something special I bought for Liz’s party. I can wear that.”
“Perfect, put it on. We have tickets to the matinee; we’re leaving in thirty minutes.”
I quickly donned my dress so I’d have more time to do my makeup and hair. After fussing and primping, I walked into the living room where Tyrone sat reading the L.A. Times. His crisp, white shirt was pressed and expensive looking. His legs extended onto the ottoman, and his huge manliness couldn’t be concealed by the drape of his suit pants. Tyrone reeked of confidence. He slowly looked up at me, taking a full appraisal of how I looked.
“Julia, you look like a million bucks.” Tyrone’s whole face lit up, he sprung out of his chair and kissed me softly on the cheek. “I don’t want to mess up those lips. Well, not yet, anyway. You look fantastic!”
Tyrone hugged me, and his throbbing muscle confirmed that he found me irresistible. My panties dripped with gratitude. He reached up under my short dress and moved his hand slowly up the back of my thigh.
He took one ass cheek and massaged it gently but firmly. Then he swiped the g-string away from my booty, reached in from behind, and slipped a finger into my wetness. He took one swipe of my nectar and then pulled away and stuck his finger in his mouth.
“Yum! Sweet like honey.” Then he grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”
Now it was my turn to be speechless. This guy had balls! Big ones and he knew how to use them, in and out of the bedroom.
It was a windy day, and the chilly air hit us like sharpened razor blades when we walked out of his apartment building. “Brrr! It’s cold out here,” I complained.
Tyrone put his strong arm around my shoulder and held me in close. “You wait here under the awning while I pull the car around.”
Moments later I felt safe and warm again next to Ty. “You okay, baby? It is freakin’ cold out there.” His hand rested on my knee for the duration of the twenty minute ride. He told me about his job, which Broadway shows he liked, his favorite sports teams, but I only heard vague details. Instead, my mind kept rewinding the events of the morning.
This guy was like a dream. Honestly. Where had he come from? He bought tickets to Wicked because I mentioned once, in passing, I had been listening to the music on my iPod. He owned this time, this place, and this space. It showed in his command over me and my need to please him with my mouth. And now, as we simply sat in his car talking like two regular people, his hand never left my left knee. I felt like he owned me … and I liked it.
After the musical we got back into his car, and Tyrone announced he had yet another surprise for me.
“I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of making reservations at La Reina. I did a little research, and they have the best paella in the entire city.”
“Wow, really? I love paella! I haven’t had it in a while.”
“Right, since you and your sister made it over the summer for a neighborhood party.”
“C’mon, Tyrone, you remembered that too? Do you have some kind of photographic memory?”
“No, I just pay attention. Julia, everything you tell me is important. You told me you love paella, so I knew I had to find the best Spanish restaurant in the city.”
This guy was too good to be true. That is why I was so overtaken by Tyrone’s gestures; he listened to what I said and did things to please me. Because if we care about someone that is what we do.
Saying “I love you, I love you, I love you,” those are just words. A parrot could say them as easily as he could say “cracker.” But I knew what real love looked like. I saw it in my daughter when she looked into my eyes, and I saw it in my grandparents when all they wanted was to hold each other’s hands. But I haven’t seen that look from Aaron in a very long time.
I searched my brain, scanning for a piece of a memory, something, anything. But it wasn’t there to find. Aaron didn’t love me. I don’t know that he ever had. It was that day—the coldest day of the year—that I had the realization that he was incapable of giving or receiving the kind of love that I needed.
I am a fantastic actress because it’s the one thing I’ve been doing all my life. I’ve always pretended to be somebody I’m not. My Mercedes and Jimmy Choos say to the world that I’ve made it, that I belong in the upper echelon of society, and that I’m a classy kind of girl. But inside I know the truth. I’m a fraud.
I don’t really belong to the country club, no matter what the roster reads. Underneath my three-hundred-dollar highlights and blow out is a mousy head of unruly hair. Ten-thousand-dollar boob job, fifty-thousand-dollar wardrobe, seventy-five-thousand-dollar car, million-dollar home. If you take it all away and peel back the layers, what do you find? Just . . . Julia.
I’ve never understood the reasons that people put so much weight on money and material things. They assume that I must be happy because on the outside, I have so much going for me. But no one sees the inside of me that just wants to be loved for who I am, not for what I look like or what kind of car I drive.
Sometimes I’ll see a couple together that is obviously middle-class: Gap jeans, shirt from Target, cheap shoes, beat-up Ford sedan. On the outside, their life appears so average to me. I almost have disdain for them. But then I’ll notice the way she looks up at him with such admiration, so much love, such a connection. And then I gulp when I see how he can’t take a step without touching her, his arm around her shoulder or waist, reaching for her hand. I feel sick to my stomach because I am so hungry for that, for someone who just wants to be near me, someone who is so in the moment that I am the only thing that matters to him.
And that’s what I got for marrying for money.
I recently heard a celebrity, now on her second marriage, talking on a show, and she said, “I used to think being taken care of meant financially. Only recently did I realize it meant emotionally.”
She took the words right out of my heart.
LIZ
My birthday was coming up, and to celebrate, I was throwing a big party at Caramella’s, a new restaurant downtown that was getting rave reviews. I couldn’t wait to celebrate my special day with my friends and family.
The party also provided a much needed distraction from the flurry of thoughts in my head. I had been thinking a lot about Nick and was consumed by the memories of our past. Would I ever be free of him?
When I saw Julia come in the door, I was thrilled. She was dressed to the nines in an exquisite cocktail affair that was at the same time sexy and elegant; she looked positively radiant. I hadn’t seen her since our luncheon; I wondered how she’d decided to proceed with Ty. I had been so wrapped up in my own life that I hadn’t bothered to ask. Truth be told, I didn’t really want to know. I already knew about Maria and Enrique, and Gabby had told me she was meeting Todd tonight after the party. I was surrounded by infidelity, and I was beginning to think it was contagious.
Tyr
one arrived shortly after Julia, and I thought I was introducing them for the first time. Silly me. When I glanced over to them later on, the chemistry between them was obvious. The way she leaned her right shoulder in and pursed her lips while he spoke. More than this, though, was the fire in their eyes as they looked at each other. It suddenly occurred to me that this was probably not their first meeting.
When I approached Julia, she confirmed my suspicions. Apparently, they connected the very night I had warned her about him. They had been flirting and cyber-sexing ever since. I’d like to say that I was surprised, but that’d be a lie. Julia was a beautiful woman who was desperate for that kind of attention.
Watching her, I was reminded of a post I’d seen just that morning on my friend Sharon’s Facebook wall: “Guys, it’s all about how you look at her. There is always someone willing to pick up your slack.”
And isn’t that the truth? Being looked at like that is enough to make even a happily married woman take pause. It had sure made me take pause.
I saw Gabby not far from Julia and Ty. She seemed giddy; I know she was excited to meet up with Todd after my party. Still, I was worried for her. Here I was playing moral police again. I had to at least try and talk some sense into her.
“Gabby, are you sure?”
“Yes, Liz, I’m sure. He is so sexy, and oh my God, you should read the things he writes to me. I can practically cum from his words.”
“Um, T-M-I, Gabby.” We both giggled.
“I get that you think he’s sexy, but what about the fact that you’re married?”
I didn’t know a lot about her husband, Steven, other than that Gabby didn’t seem to care for him very much. The words she used to describe him didn’t paint a very nice picture; boring, dull, annoying, and uptight all came quickly to my mind.
“Ugh, c’mon, Liz, get real. No one is fucking faithful anymore. Look around this room. I bet half of these people are fucking around.”
I quickly glanced around the room and felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. Right away I noticed Julia, Tyrone, and Maria. I had to stop looking before I started trying to guess who else had been unfaithful. Gabby was right. I was surrounded by cheaters.
Sex and the Social Network Page 12
