by Shayne Ford
I move my thumb up and crush her clit. It’s not teasing, and it’s not soft. It’s as hard as she wants it to be. It’s as fast as she wants it. And it brings her up where I want her.
Within seconds, I peel my hand away from hers and ride my dick deep into her and then, all I do is fuck her hard, holding her against my body and keeping her mouth connecting with mine as she starts to move harder and break against me, her climax long, her moans and groans loud, her grip imprinted in my neck.
She’s way passed the highest point when our lips separate and I get to watch her as she goes through the aftershocks, experiencing the same level of intensity as me, her face transfixed, her eyes stitched to mine, her stare giving me goosebumps, her lips quivering as she rides that convoluted line of pleasure, not stopping, not breaking into awareness, not losing sight of me a damn second.
I’ve never had someone so closed to me in my entire life, and with that thought, I grant myself the satisfying relief, flooding her walls with my hot release.
Minutes pass by, and we’re still moving, the rapid frequency of my thrusts morphing into settled motions.
From this point on, we step into a different territory.
Unable to disconnect, we keep kissing and keep rocking our hips as I go from semi-hard to hard again and the next hours become a carousel of sensations that disconnect us from reality, let our bodies do the talking, until there’s a pool of wetness and cum between us and the night becomes the early morning hours and we drift off to sleep exhausted before we start all over again a couple of hours later–– it’s still dark outside. Swept into a state of delicious oblivion, drowsiness, and haziness we reattach to one another, locking ourself together, physically and emotionally. Making sure that we cannot pull apart again.
We fall asleep for the second time, and by the time I wake up half of the day has mysteriously pulled away from us.
I push out of the sofa, carry her to the bedroom, tuck her in her bed and go to the bathroom.
I take a long shower, welcoming the fresh sensation flowing on my skin as I begin to truly wake up.
It’s minutes later when I walk into the living room and put my clothes on that I start looking for my phone inside my jacket.
I take it with me to the kitchen and place it on the counter before I set the espresso machine for a cup of coffee.
The aroma spreads through the room when I pick up the cup and lift it to my lips. For a moment, I focus solely on the luscious flavor, and then I move to the window, my phone in my hand.
I dial the number.
His voice resonates at the other end the moment he picks up.
“I’ll take you up on your offer,” I say when I hear Eve’s steps on the hallway.
“Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” I toss at him before I hang up and smoothly spin around.
She looms in the entryway, naked, her body marked, her hair a storm on her shoulders. She looks at me with sleepy eyes as she walks into the kitchen.
“Coffee?” I ask, smiling.
She grins too.
“Mmm-hmm. The smell woke me up.”
“You can have mine. I’ll make another one.”
Eyes half-closed, she curls her hand around mine as I offer her my cup of coffee. She doesn’t let go of me until I tilt the cup against her lips and she takes a sip. Her eyes flicker with pleasure.
“Let me make another one...” I say as I tip my chin and motion to the machine.
A sly smile curls her lips.
“Sure,” she says, her hand touching my groin accidentally.
Laughing, I pull away from her, adjusting my bulge.
She smiles too as she waggles her finger at me and tips her gaze down, my erection straining against my fly.
I manage to set the machine for another cup of coffee and let it drip before I spin around and press my rear against the kitchen counter when I find her inches away from me.
She sets her cup next to me on the kitchen counter, a naughty expression sliding onto her face.
Smoothly, she splays her fingers across my groin and brushes my package.
Biting my lip, I look at her and tip my head to the side, waiting for her to make her move.
Her fingers trail the waistband of my pants and fly, and then she takes them away from me as she flicks her chin up and looks at me.
Holding my eyes, she lowers herself and kneels in front of me. Propped on her knees, she begs me with her eyes.
The espresso machine is whistling, puffing steam as it finishes dripping the coffee while at the same time, I unbuckle my belt, open my fly, grab my cock, and pull it out. It bounces and then twitches, and under her very eyes it juts in the air.
I set my hands back on the edge of the counter while I bend my knees a little to get to her mouth at a perfect angle.
She pushes up to her knees and licks the underside of my shaft, her hands not touching me. Her mouth is warm from the coffee, her touch igniting a fire on my smooth skin.
She wraps her hand around my girth, holds my hard length still, and runs her tongue up on the underside of my shaft again.
I bite my lip. She weighs me with her eyes for a moment before she uses her free hand to fish her cup from the counter, takes another sip, and places it back.
She lets the hot drink coat her mouth before she swallows it and brings his mouth back to me.
I lift my eyebrows, smiling as she closes her lips around me.
Fuck... The pleasure that comes from her mouth. She moves her tongue, the smooth cushion sliding against my hard flesh. She exerts pressure and sucks on me, burying a part of my cock in her mouth.
I push my jeans down to my hips, so she gets better access. Her eyes light up when she cups my balls and angles her head to take as much as she can into her mouth.
The heat coming from her mouth makes my flesh throb.
This won’t take long. She sucks on me for a few good minutes before I straighten my back and slip my hand at the back of her hair, cupping her cheek with the other.
The moment, I change the angle, I hit the back of her throat, and I feel her chocking on me, her grip tightening on me, all I want is to fuck her mouth.
I press the back of her head against me while I start to rock my hips and do just that.
Her glistening eyes stay locked with mine as I thrust faster and faster.
She meets my thrusts, bobbing her head, sustaining my rhythm, taking me deep, swirling her tongue even faster.
It doesn’t take long, and I hold her head with both hands as I fuck her mouth even faster.
We go fast, in perfect synch, until I feel my balls tightening and the waves of pleasure coming rapidly, sweeping my flesh, sending tingles up my spine.
A grunt leaves my lips as I shudder against her, not having the time to pull myself out. My load hits her throat as my fingers tangle with her hair and my heart drums in my chest.
It takes me a few long moments to slow down. To slacken my grip on her hair. To crash back and pull her up. And to wipe away my cum from her lips.
Panting, she presses her forehead against my chest while I slowly stroke and kiss her hair.
“Your coffee’s ready,” I say, grinning.
Her quiet laugh against my chest is her answer.
10
EVE
Colorado
Before Valentine’s Day
“If you need anything, ask Veronica,” Rain says as she packs a few more cotton voile caftans in her suitcase.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
My eyes linger on the sheer fabric delicately embroidered with bohemian motifs and embellished with a fine thread of gold lame.
Just by looking at it, snapshots of the summer days carousel in front of my eyes, a stretch of warm white sand kissed by the transparent water, and tanned bodies soaking up the sun.
She starts shoving in a few pairs of cotton shorts and maxi dresses before I shift my gaze to the ceiling height windows.
The
lights come on in the backyard as the evening crawls in. A cold wind sweeps the benches and the snow-covered lawn, the sight sending a shiver down my spine.
I swing my eyes back to her just as she pulls the zipper closed. A moment later, one of the staff members walks in and collects several suitcases.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say, grinning.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be back in no time. One week is not that long.”
I gesture at her.
“I know.”
“Dinner is ready downstairs,” a woman says as she pops in the entryway.
“Thank you, Martha. We’re waiting for Mr. Sexton.”
The woman nods, smiles, and pulls away while Rain plops in an armchair not far from me.
“Let’s see where he is,” she says as she starts typing on her phone.
I move my gaze around.
Beautiful colors style her room, goldenrod, cognac, cream and shades of red here and there. Rain’s mother had a passion for colors too.
“How’s your mother?” I ask as she taps the screen, sending the message.
“She’s good.”
She smiles.
“I think she’s about to get married again.”
My eyebrows flick in surprise.
“No.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Same, um...”
“Yup. Same man.”
“She swore she’d never get married again.”
“Never say never. She swore off boyfriends as well, but he convinced her to give the idea a try.”
“He must be nice to her.”
“Yup. He really is.”
“What is your father saying?”
Her smile loses some of its light as she ponders over the answer.
“I think he’s happy for her.”
She looks at me, musing over her answer a little more.
“Why wouldn’t he be? He must know he wasn’t right for her,” she says.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She flicks her hand, dismissively.
“No need to be. I’m relieved that they finally found better partners.”
I stay quiet.
“What about you? How are things with your crush?”
“Um, my crush... “ I mutter, wrapping my arms around my sweater, and hugging myself as I drag my gaze away from her.
“We’re, um... We’re okay. Right now we’re taking things slowly. We want to see if this thing works. Anyway...” I say as I look at her again. “Next week, I’ll check a few apartments, find myself a place to live. And then, I’ll start work. So perhaps, I’ll meet him the following weekend. We’ll see.”
She studies me for a moment.
“Are you okay with it?”
“Mmm-hmm. Yeah. I’m perfectly fine. I’m not too attached to the idea of him. So many things can happen. And you know what they say if it’s meant to be it will find its way to me. If not, I’m fine with it. I don’t want to cling to it or have unrealistic expectations. I just want to focus on what I need to do next.”
For a few seconds, I watch her eyebrow slowly arch as she looks at me as if I had a personality transplant.
“Who are you?”
I start to laugh.
“Why?”
“Why? You’ve talked my ear off all these years. It was all about you finding the man of your life, and now you’re suddenly suffocated by the idea of a man, and you’re all about giving him space and whatnot.”
My chest rocks with laughter.
“It’s not funny, Missy,” she says, grinning. “But I get it,” she adds in the same breath, gesturing faintly. “Hey. You take it one day at the time. When you find the right guy, I’m sure you’ll know it. And you’ll probably think differently.”
Her phone chimes with a message.
She flips it up and checks the text.
“He’s minutes away,” she mutters as she lifts her gaze from her cell. “Are you hungry?”
“So, so. I may be in half an hour or so.”
“Perfect. Let’s go downstairs.”
Truth be told I haven’t had the chance to feel hunger these past few days since I’ve been her guest.
The food is delicious, she likes to eat, and I am such a people pleaser, and can’t say no to her, especially when her staff invites us to take a bite of this or that, canapés, perfectly grilled veggies, steak, and cake.
“I asked them to cook something French,” she says as we walk down the stairs.
“I’m up for anything,” I say.
Although I’ve visited her place before, I still find myself gawking at the interior design–– the flowers, chandeliers, art, drapes, and furniture, as we strut across the big foyer and enter a large dining room that faces the backyard.
The wall of French doors sprawling in front of us lets in the marvelous, picturesque view of the frosted landscape, dormant beneath the layer of snow.
“I should’ve changed,” I say, as I notice the festive floral centerpiece on the table.
She tosses me a glance.
“Don’t worry. You’re good. Besides, I haven’t changed either.”
She sports a pink mohair tunic while I fashion a floral wool knit dress and a matching cropped sweater.
“You look cute,” she says after she makes a quick assessment.
James walks in a few minutes later. She greets him at the door with the same enthusiasm she’s always had for him.
I get to kiss him on his cheek before he motions us to the table.
“Start without me. I need to change first,” he says as he shrugs out of his suit jacket and tugs at his tie, loosening the knot.
I slip back into my seat as Rain excuses herself and rushes up the stairs after him, unable to stay away from him. The sweet sound of her voice echoes through the house as she talks to him, and he laughs.
I smile, my eyes pinned on my phone screen as I absently check the last messages I’ve exchanged with Tiago. We’ve talked about me staying here and him doing business over there.
I have no idea whether I’ll see him this weekend or not.
James and Rain leave tomorrow, Friday.
Valentine’s Day is Saturday.
He could fly here, and we could book a hotel room, spend some time together. But he didn’t say a thing.
I start typing. A moment later, I change my mind and put the phone down when one of the servers enters the room with a plate of French cheese puffs.
They smell divine, the cheese encased in warm puffs making my mouth water. A second server enters, carrying a plater with bowls of French onion soups.
And salads surface.
“What would you like to drink, Miss Eve?” one of the women asks.
“Water is fine.”
They set everything on the table and leave.
I pick up my phone again and take a few pictures. I send a couple to Tiago, along with a few words.
Me: Having dinner. Are you home?
I wait for a few seconds hoping that he’d respond or that at I’d see him online.
I check the time.
He’s probably at the gym, working out. Disappointed, I set the phone down for the second time.
Minutes later, James and Rain enter the room.
He fashions designer trousers that ooze his signature masculine elegance he effortlessly carries around and a V-neckline cashmere top.
He looks fresh, or perhaps happy. Whatever it is, it sparkles in his eyes.
“I’m hungry, and I’m ready to eat,” he says, grinning.
By the time I sink my teeth into a fluffy, cheesy puff, I couldn’t agree more.
We finish eating the soup when the first meal arrives and my phone chimes with an alert. As people collect our plates and serve the grilled fish, I use the opportunity to palm my phone and take a peek at the screen.
Tiago: Mmmm... I’m hungry.
I wish I could type a reply, ask him if he’s home again.
A picture pops in, and my eyes widen as
I tip my gaze down and take it in under the table.
The snapshot gives me a cropped view of his suit and tie, spurring more questions in my head.
I type, regardless of my current circumstances.
Me: Where are you going?
I realize that I need to shift my focus to the table and flash a smile unless I want to attract attention to my maneuvering under the table.
“Everything okay?” James asks as I swing my gaze up.
I smile, embarrassed.
“Yes. It was nothing,” I hastily add, discouraging a follow-up question.
His phone chimes as well, and as he picks it up from the table and reads a message, the doorbell rings.
Rain’s eyebrows tilt in surprise.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asks, her mouth full.
His eyes go down again as if the answer to her question lies on his phone screen.
“Um... No. I wasn’t.”
A smile sprouts on his lips, disbelief reading on his face.
He pushes his chair back as voices echo in the foyer.
“I got it,” he says, dismissing the staff.
Rain rises to her feet as well.
“Who is that?” she asks, her eyes flying to the windows.
I have nothing better to do than mirror her move.
We both watch a limo pulling away before we hear the doorbell ring again and James’ voice resonating in the hallway.
A dialogue echoes in the foyer, prompting Rain to head that way.
I pick up another cheese puff from the table and take a bite, standing, when I hear Rain, sheer shock streaming through her voice.
“Tiago??”
I almost inhale my food.
Congested, I start to cough.
I manage to chew on the rest of it rapidly, swallow it and drink some water before I run my hands through my hair, tug at my sweater and slip into my chair, waiting for them to walk into the room.
I drink more water, and wait for a few more moments, when it dawns on me that the polite thing to do would be to drag myself to the foyer and greet their ‘guest,’ without giving myself away if all possible.
I rise and still for a moment, hoping that I can stop my heart from slamming against my ribcage and my pulse from vibrating in my ears.
Their voices entwine into a lively dialogue while I wait for them to come this way, tense, swallowing hard a few times.
