by Gabi Moore
Max had taught me so much. He had shown me what wonderful things were possible when people trusted one another. I could never have done something like this before, just standing here half naked without a care in the world, but with Max, I didn’t feel afraid of much anymore. He had shown me what it felt like to be in charge, to take action and to maintain dignity and composure. Max taught me the power of discipline and bravery… and pleasure. He taught me the one thing I hadn’t known how to do till then: receive. And now, I was here in all my glory, exposed and loving it, safe in his hands and feeling like the queen of the world, and all I could think about was how hot it would be to cum right in his mouth.
“I love you,” he whispered to my clit, which was a funny little thing he always did right before he pressed his tongue against me and slid a long, gentle lick right through the most tender parts of me. He parted me gently with his thumbs, lovingly squeezed my thighs and sunk his tongue into those warm pleats, flickering wet and playful over those places he had learnt thrilled me the most. You’d never say he was a man who spent essentially years and years of his life celibate. He took the task of eating me out as seriously as any soldier’s duty, and with as much focus and attention to detail.
I groaned and let my head fall back, knowing he’d take care of every little flutter and ripple down below. I anchored my hands on his shoulders and closed my eyes to better savor the delicious pulses of pleasure that were growing, radiating from deep inside and fluttering outwards. I loved fucking Max, don’t get me wrong. I loved how wild and enthusiastic he’d get, and how no feat of athleticism was beyond him when pounding me to the brink of pleasure was his goal. I loved how even now, it still took me a few breaths and a moment to adjust to the size of him and take him all in, every inch, so that sometimes I felt like just holding him inside me was enough to make me cum. I loved all of that, no doubt, but dammit there was something to be said about his otherworldly tongue, too.
He had a way of chasing each little squirm of bliss, hunting it down and swirling his tongue sweetly right where I needed it, till I couldn’t help but shake, the reverberations of each wave of pleasure bolting through me like his tongue was an electricity source I was plugged into. I was wet. More than wet. Max taught me something else: that I wasn’t, as I used to believe, a difficult, unresponsive woman, but in fact a gushing fountain waiting to happen, ready to soak him and everything else in a two-mile radius at the peak of pleasure. I learnt that my body was juicier than I ever thought possible, and even now the moisture streamed freely down my inner thighs and past my knees. Knowing that he dutifully lapped it all up without a second thought made me warm inside.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” he whispered, peering up at me with a look even the devil would be embarrassed to have on his face. I could only whimper and nod, so focused was I on chasing that fleeting little path of pleasure he was tracing out with tongue. He stroked his thumbs teasingly around my pussy, admiring me and planting distracted kisses on the top of my thighs, and beneath my belly-button.
“Oh god, Max, please don’t stop,” I cried. He smiled and obediently returned his warm lips to my body, sealing a kiss round my clit again and sucking so gently and sweetly I nearly saw stars behind my closed eyes. This is where Max’s lessons all happened, right here, in this moment. Words meant nothing, but with Max, I felt. I felt what trust really meant: surrender. To let go and give yourself freely to another is the first and only step to bliss, the doorway into a whole universe of wonderful things that I had been too scared to open to before him. My fear and doubt had been cords tying me closed, and with each kiss, with each stroke and caress and glorious fuck, Max was breaking those cords, one by one, till I felt so free I wanted to soar.
“There we go… look how fucking close you are,” he said and slowed his tongue to the tiniest, most heavenly little circles on the tightest spot on my clit, inching me closer to the shuddering apex of an orgasm I knew was going to be big. Max never made me feel weird about squirting – in fact, he adored it, and took pride in getting me so turned on that I couldn’t help but gush everywhere. How could I have even known that this was something my body could do, when I was with Derek? No, there were new doors that only Max could open, new, sexy superpowers that only he knew the way to coax out of me.
My toes clawed at the floor. My breathing shallowed out and I felt myself getting hot and the world disappeared except for a narrowing tunnel of pleasure that I seemed to be accelerating down into. His kind of orgasm started deep inside me and took its time bursting free.
“I’m going to—”
“I know,” he said and in an instant he had hoisted both his hands under my ass to better angle me to his mouth, which he now had pressed fully against my pussy, so that the moment I couldn’t hold on any longer I came directly against his tongue, one deep throb after another.
I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. Instead, the widening circle of heat spreading out from deep inside spread right over me and engulfed me. I knew he had saved the best for last, and as my body bucked and shuddered through an orgasm, he thrust his tongue deep into me and tasted each and every spasm. I couldn’t help but grind against his face, and he obliged, pulling me hard down onto his greedy lips to devour me, his tongue working quickly even as I came.
“Max,” I growled.
“Fuck yes… I love it when you come,” he said and begin laying long licks over the length of my cunt, from the bottom all the way to the top and down again, almost apologizing for the rollercoaster of sensations he had put me through. I shuddered so deeply and with such gratitude, I couldn’t help but laugh and collapse a little against the wall.
“How do you even do that?” I moaned and tried to catch my breath, still pawing at his strong shoulders to ride out the last little shudders of my orgasm.
“That was amazing.”
“You’re amazing.”
I closed my arms around him and sighed.
“When you do that to me, I swear I’m like putty afterwards,” I said and returned to kissing his neck again, loving that gorgeous warm musk that belonged to him alone.
“Yes, that’s the idea,” he said and then he lowered his hands, grasped my hips and quickly spun me around till I was facing the wall again. Max’s favorite position. Ah, now I understood. Max was a strong man with strong appetites, but he knew I was happy to go along with almost anything if he’d warmed me up with an orgasm that good to start.
“My turn,” he said and I heard the heavy fabric of his trousers slip to the floor. It’s crazy, but I was instantly turned on again, ready for more even though I was sure a second ago I had come so hard I nearly passed out.
I obediently tilted my hips and offered him up my ass, wanting nothing more than to do whatever it took to make him feel as good as he had just made me feel. I felt the thick rod of his cock bounce against the skin of my thighs and braced myself. He wasted no time popping the head into my already soaked hole and then, positioned just so, he drove his hips up viciously, sending the entire length of his cock straight to the deepest part of my body. His legs hugged mine, his belly pressed firm against my spine and his arms shadowed mine, so that every part of him surrounded every part of me, and together we were linked in the most delicious place of all, where he began to stroke long, gooey thrusts, the friction between our bodies so fucking good it gave me goosebumps…
Chapter 19 - Max
We shared a ride home.
Fucking Kate cleared the head and made things seem a little brighter somehow, like the whole world had been scrubbed clean and hung out to dry in the sunlight. We drove in blissful silence. Getting the beautiful woman sitting in the passenger seat o come as hard as humanly possible was certainly the best challenge I had ever set for myself. She was like a flower. After one petal peeled away, it only revealed a dozen more petals underneath. Her body was like magic, and endless puzzle box filled with buttons and secret latches that always opened a new hidden level.
I
won’t say things were all roses and rainbows. We certainly had our share of difficulties with the new place, and some struggles getting everything ready for the big opening day. Kate had broken down once already when she was sure she’d bitten off more than she could chew: too big a business, too serious a relationship, too much all at once. But we had helped one another through that, and things were good now. No matter what fear she had, no matter what doubts, I wanted to show her I was big enough to contain them all. For every time she had been hurt in the past, I wanted to show her that I would counter it …and then some. If she would trust me, I would return her trust a million-fold, and be honored to do it. Hugo made fun of me daily – after all, I had never been one to go head over heels for anyone before. And to be honest, I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t know what the point of pursuing Kate so hard was …only that Kate was the point. She made everything else seem more meaningful. I don’t know how, but she soon became my reason, my yardstick against which to measure everything else. And is she could overcome the demons of her past, why couldn’t I? That was the big secret: I hadn’t saved Kate, she had saved me.
We arrived at the complex and she waved me goodbye and said she’d head back to her place to freshen up and maybe come over to visit later.
“When are you going to move in with me, huh?” I said and slammed the car door behind me.
“I already have my own place, as you well know,” she said smiling. She still had that gorgeous sex-glow in her cheeks that nearly made me want to pounce on her again.
“Yeah but your place is awful. I think you’d better come to live at my place immediately,” I teased. She laughed.
“Terrible? But Max, you’re the one who helped me decorate it inside, remember?”
“Well, I did a shit job, clearly you can’t live there anymore, just move out it’s for the best. I’ll help you burn all that crappy IKEA furniture, deal?”
She giggled and blushed. I knew she needed to hold onto her place for the time being. I understood what it meant to her, to stay independent. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t let her know badly I wanted her there with me, never too far out of reach.
She opened her mouth to say something but just then an old man from the complex walked by and waved to us both.
“Afternoon. Nice day,” he said and smiled.
“Hi, Mr. Wallace,” Kate said and smiled warmly. “Where are you going with that toolbox?”
He shrugged and pointed to the house beside Kate’s.
“Mrs. Kissinger’s gotten it into her noggin that there’s creepers coming around the complex and wants me to fix up the locks on her front doors,” he said with a crotchety frown.
“Creepers?” I said. He smiled and shrugged again.
“Yup, she says she’s seen prowlers and people loitering around in the bushes, but between you and me I think it’s just her dementia,” he said and lowered his voice. Kate and I exchanged knowing glances and tried not to laugh.
- THE END -
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Never Look Back
Blurb
When they kidnapped her, something dark inside me came bubbling to the surface.
I knew I wasn’t afraid anymore. I wasn’t going to ignore my past any longer.
This time, I would fight…
Chapter 1 - Leo
It was the kind of diner that morphed into a sleazy bar the longer it stayed open. The kind where, somehow, as 7pm rolls by, the waffles and burgers give way to beers and shots, the lights dim and some kids start playing around with the old juke box that has a handwritten “NO BRIAN ADAMS” sign taped to it.
In the past, places like this had always felt like home to me. But these days, I just felt like an expat returning from a long trip away and realizing that I no longer understood the local customs as well as I thought I did.
I took a sip of my beer and tried hard not to pay any mind to the pair of girls in the corner, who’d been trying to catch my eye for the last twenty minutes. They were hot, in a kind of non-threatening way. Couldn’t have been older than twenty-two or twenty-three. In the past, I would have noticed the coy giggles, the cheap Girl’s Night Out heels and tight dresses, and I would have thanked my stars and bounced over there in a heartbeat, ready with more drinks and all my best bullshit anecdotes lined up for the evening.
But now, looking at them, I just felt …tired. Besides, now there was Sophia. Sweet, kind, sane Sophia.
I checked my watch.
Flicking my eyes to the door and scanning the street outside through the windows, I wondered whether this was some elaborate joke. Did I really live in a lame action movie where the hero gets a mysterious message, summoning him to his local greasy spoon for a shady business proposal?
I took another sip.
Not likely.
I checked my watch again, downed the last foamy mouthful of beer and stood up to leave. The girls pricked their ears. I made eye contact with the prettier one, and she froze and held my gaze across the room as I fished out some cash and slammed it on the counter.
Look, I’m not vain. I don’t give a shit, actually. But I do know how to play the field.
I know that girls will talk for eons about how they want a guy who’s kind, and treats them right, and is emotionally available and loves children and all that other crap. But take it from a traditionally hot guy out in the real world: what they really want is a rock-hard chest. A square jaw. A guy who looks at them in a way that makes them feel that sex is just an inevitability. A guy who doesn’t ask. Just claims.
For old time’s sake, I toyed with the idea of traipsing over there and seeing how long it would take for them to both be begging hard for it, to be competing with each other to out-slut one another.
I thought about it, but as a conventionally hot guy who knows exactly how to play the field …let’s just say that I’ve realized that it’s not a game I want to play anymore. I gave them a flirty smile – call it charity – and turned on my heel to leave.
“Leo Bianchi?”
I spun to see a man holding out his hand to me. I looked him up and down. A greasy, balding guy in a baggy suit with a watch that clattered on his hairy wrist and a shirt that looked like it was meant to be whiter.
“You’re late,” I said, and shook his hand.
When he laughed, he threw back his head, then he slapped me hard on the shoulder.
“Yeah, kid, he said you’d be plucky!” The man eased the bulk of his middle-aged form onto one of the bar stools. “Come on, sit down. Bianchi? My mother knew some Bianchis. You know Maria and Ed? Down in Boston?”
I could hear the girls behind me pick up their conversation again. I shook my head and gingerly took a seat beside him.
“No? Pity,” he said with a kind of fatherly disappointment, then ordered a beer and took a good few minutes to adjust his gut, smooth down his slacks and pass his dark eyes over me a few times.
“You look tense, kid. Relax,” he chuckled.
“What’s this about?”
He took a long sip of his beer, sucked his top lip and then frowned at me. “So, you starting up a nice little business for yourself, huh? Imports?”
My face prickled. The longer I stared at his greasy, rubbery face the more certain I was that either he had made some terrible mistake in asking me out here. Or worse, that he hadn’t.
“Yeah, so?” I said.
I had finally generated enough momentum to launch an import operation, bringing in Fairtrade coffee beans and other produce from Costa Rica for boutique coffee merchants all along the west coast. Funny thing, though, the company had only been officially registered for a few weeks, and basically nobody knew about it yet. Except Sophia, maybe.
“Well, we’re always looking for uh, you know,
enterprising personalities…” he said, staring straight ahead.
“We?”
“Let’s call it a business offer. We get a brand spanking new channel to push our product, you get to offset those nasty import duties…”
I leaned back in my seat.
“You got the wrong guy,” I said, plainly.
He frowned at me again.
“Oh you’re the right guy, buddy. Little Leo? Came up with Lucille and her kids back in Bay Ridge?”
I broke out into a cold sweat.
“Who are you? How do you know me?”
“I don’t know you pal, but Uncle Vito does, and he told me you’d be interested.”
My heart nearly stopped.
“Haven’t heard that name in a long time,” I said quietly. “Thanks, but no thanks,” I managed to say, and got up to leave. The fat man extended a hand and pulled me back down with surprising strength.
“What? You’re leaving? I haven’t even finished my beer. No manners, I swear,” he grumbled under his breath. “And you haven’t even heard Vito’s offer yet.” He took another long swig, irritatingly confident that he had caught my attention.
Vito Roselli was an evil man.
A notorious man.
I had seen his hard, scarred face in grainy photos in the papers. On the news. Vito was the guy that everyone knew was crooked, but could do nothing about. He was the big bad wolf in a fairytale I wished didn’t exist; a world I was no longer a part of. For Vito, there was no right and wrong. No good and evil. There was only power. Those who had it, those who didn’t. End of story. And just hearing his name had my hackles up and my fists clenched.
