Fire In His Eyes

by Nightingale, MJ

  I took it from him, and closed my fingers over the shell feeling its warmth. “I’ll cherish it forever,” I teased at his gallant offer. But inside I wasn’t teasing, and I would cherish it forever. I would put it in the top drawer of my dresser and keep it with the note he had given me. It would remind me of today as long as I lived.

  At the ice cream shop, I got a chocolate ice cream cone, and he got a strawberry double scoop. He planted the tip of his cone on my nose and licked it off, when I tried to do the same, he ran away from me. I laughed chasing him for a while, and then gave up and promised not to. We found a vacant bench, sat down to enjoy the ice cream, and held hands as we watched the surf, and people. “Hey,” he interrupted my thoughts, “I forgot to tell you how amazing you look in that pink bikini, you almost look as tasty in it as my ice cream,” he teased and popped the last bite into his mouth.

  “Ooo, you,” I laughed. “I should have smashed your face with my cone.”

  “Race you to the blanket,” he called. He took off, I after him. He beat me, of course, but I wasn’t too far behind him. We collapsed on the blanket and turned onto our side and talked about everything and anything frivolous from our childhood.

  We took one more quick dip in the ocean, dried off and began to pack up as the sun was just about to set; we were both surprised to find it was nearly eight o’clock. The day had flown by.

  The ride to the hotel was done quietly and quickly. We had agreed to have quick showers, mine would be a little longer, I told him, as I needed to do some grooming. Then we would go out and have a nice dinner and then back to the hotel for the fun he had promised me.

  By, nine thirty we were just being seated at the Pelican Landing, a casual dining restaurant at the end of Pier 66. We sat outside, and had a great view of the Intracoastal Waterway, and boats coming in and out, yachts too. Victor hoped someday to have his own boat as he loved to sail.

  The lighting in the restaurant was subdued, yet bright enough we could easily see one another. We both ordered the seafood special with the vegetable of the day, and Victor also had them bring out oysters because they were purported to have aphrodisiacal qualities. Although I had never tried them before, I found that I quite enjoyed them as the little slippery suckers slid down my throat. They were good with just a squirt of lemon juice. We had one cocktail after dinner, enjoyed each other’s company and the spectacular view. By eleven thirty, the check was paid and we were in the car, headed back to the hotel where a whole new dimension on our sex lives was about to be unleashed.

  Victor seemed nervous when we got back to the hotel, and it made me a little nervous, too. He was probably worried about my reaction, I told myself, and not by what might be in the trunk? I excused myself to go freshen up and give him some time as well. I rummaged through my bag, and retrieved the one piece white, almost see through satin chemise with matching lace panties I had selected for the night and made my way to the bathroom. He stopped me as I passed him, and pulled me in for a quick kiss, and said, “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I just want to please you.” His eyes searched mine.

  “I believe you,” I whispered the words as I pulled away. In the bathroom, I brushed my hair out until it shone and shimmered like gossamer, and brushed my teeth. I stripped and I used one of the hotel washcloths to freshen up my arms, face, and legs. Then I applied my lotion smoothing and massaging it all in, before I put on the little nightie. It was a simple piece, virginal almost. I had bought it last week, knowing Victor would like it because of its innocence and because he liked me in white as it contrasted well with my skin tone.

  When I came out of the bathroom, he had on a nice pair of form fitting black boxer briefs. He looked like an Adonis to me, with his chiseled chest, and the glow from today’s tanning revealing every ripple in his chest and arms. “You are so ravishing in white, Monica.” He crossed the room to me, and swept me into his arms swinging my legs over one arm and supporting my back with the other.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, and then his lips claimed mine greedily. It was intense, and needy, and demanding of a response. I was breathless when it ended and he put me back on my feet in front of the small silver trunk he had placed on the small table in the room.

  I looked up at him. There was hesitation in his eyes. “Show me,” I said.

  He slowly unlocked and opened the box, but didn’t look down. He watched me instead. Intensely.

  I looked down. He had an assortment of dildos and vibrators; some were really long. I touched one. It must have been eighteen inches. “This most certainly doesn’t go in all the way,” I stated.

  “No,” he laughed. “It doesn’t.”

  I looked through the dildos, and picked up one vibrator that was his size and had an attachment that I supposed could reach and stimulate the clitoris. I examined it and then handed it to him. ‘This one,” he laughed and at my nod he set it on the bed behind us. He lifted the box higher so another level appeared. In that level was an assortment of clips and clamps. Some had beads on them, feathers, and jewels.

  I said, “Your turn. You pick.” He chose two clamps with jewels adorning them and chain that connected the two together. Those he placed onto the bed as well. Next, he lifted the lid higher to reveal a third row. Here were lotions, Vaseline, a couple of strings with marbles on them, some odd shaped dildos that I later learned were plugs, a whip, and a few other things I had no clue of. “I don’t know what most of these are or what they are used for,” I stammered a little nervously.

  He pointed to the string of marbles and picked them up. Three golden marbles on a golden cord. “These are Ben Wa balls. They can be used during sex, or before sex, you can even wear them all day to strengthen your vaginal muscles. You can also insert them in your ass, and when you come, I can pull them out of you and it will strengthen your orgasm.” He looked at me, the question unasked.

  “OK, I would like to try it,” I stated nervously. That was going to be a lot of stuff in me, all at the same time, but I was willing to try it for him. He put the beads on the bed, and took the jar of Vaseline out too, before closing the lid.

  He kissed me again slowly, and seductively, and then asked me to take my panties off as he sat in the chair beside the bed. I took them off slowly and stood before him. He picked up the Ben Wa balls and warmed them in his hands and then put them in his mouth. He opened the jar of Vaseline and inserted his pinkie into it, and then indicated I should turn around. He patted my ass and stroked my ass and gave one cheek a small slap. He took the Ben Wa balls from his mouth. “Monica, bend over and touch your toes. I am going to insert my pinkie into your lovely ass, and then the Ben Wa balls.” I bent over. He inserted his pinkie and it slipped right in because of the Vaseline, he stroked me like that a couple of times, and then I felt him push one, then two of the Ben Wa balls into my rectum. They were warm, and hard, a bit uncomfortable, but not much, one other dangled between my legs. I could see it hanging there in that position. I could also see Victor smiling at me through my legs. “Hi, there,” he teased.

  “Hi yourself, handsome,” I teased in return.

  His smile and joking made me not so nervous, and I smiled back. “Monica, walk around a bit, and tell me how that feels.”

  I straightened and walked back and forth across the room passing right in front of him a couple of times. They felt strange, but the longer they were there, maybe from the sway of my hips, or the fact that they kept moving around, it felt quite pleasant if a little foreign. “They are okay,” I nodded. “Probably would feel better in my vagina, though.”

  He laughed and agreed. “If you were just wearing them, for that, you’re right they would. You would feel anticipation all the time while wearing them, and horny as hell, and frustrated if you couldn’t get the job finished. Delaying gratification can be quite enjoyable, too, Monica, especially when it is finally relieved. But that is not what we are going to use them for tonight.” He laughed as I continued to walk purposefully gyrating my rear, swaying a g
reat deal more than normal to experiment with them. When I got near him again, he stopped me for a kiss, and squeezed my ass cheeks. “Try to clench and release the balls, Monica.” I did, and that felt better, the balls in my ass were helping to make my vagina walls clench even harder.

  “Yeah, that’s nice.” I nodded and smiled at Victor.

  “I love your smile, Monica.” His smile was sweet when he pulled me to his chest. He kisses me on the nose, and then he really kissed me. His hands caressed my back, and made their way down to my ass cheeks gripping them, and then began to come back up, but with his hands, he very sneakily pulled the hem of my negligee up and over my head. “I really like this one, Monica. Where it again for me,” he whispered as kisses rained over my neck and throat.

  “Ok,” I stammered as his kisses had already worked their magic on my body.

  When the kiss ended, he had further directions for me. “Go ahead and lie down on the bed, face up, head on the pillow so you can watch what I am doing.” He followed right behind me and brought the clips with him. He crawled on top of me and lavished my nipples with his tongue. When they were both rock pebble hard, he stopped, knelt between my legs and put on the clamps. “I can tighten these, make them tighter,” he explained. “Using these,” he indicated the tiny little nobs under the decorative adornment.

  “Yeah, go ahead, make them a little tighter.” I was panting a little.

  He just nodded and laughed. “I’ll tighten them slowly; let me know before it gets to be too much.”

  I nodded, and watched as he turned the little screws. When the pain started to be uncomfortable, I asked him to stop. He did. “I can loosen it a bit,” he offered. When I said that it was still okay, he told me he was going to tug on the chain that connected the two clamps a little and wanted me to tell him how it felt. I nodded. He tugged the chain and both pleasure and pain coursed through me like bolts of electricity from my nipples to my pussy. I squirmed and felt the Ben Wa balls. It was like torture, but exquisitely so. “Good?” he asked and I nodded again unable to form words. He went off his knees, sat between my legs and placed his thighs over mine, and spread my legs further. He then picked up the vibrator and turned it on. I was already wet, when he inserted just the tip and withdrew it, and then did the action again, going deeper each time until finally the attachment reached my clitoris and I went crazy. His legs held mine down, and I couldn’t squirm and buck as much as I would have liked to, it was so fucking hot, my mind was a jumble and my pussy was on fire. He released his massively swollen penis, and stroked himself while he watched me.

  “I am going to cum,” I screamed.

  “Go ahead,” he panted and tugged on the chain of the nipple clamps with one hand as he stroked himself. The combination of the pleasure and the pain was exquisite. I came, and squirmed, and came some more. It didn’t stop. I thrashed and practically kicked him off of me. He left the vibrator on my clit, and let go of the chain, and slowly pulled the Ben Wa balls out, one, then two. I kept cumming and screaming. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. It was just so intense. I felt like I was going mad and began to cry and squirm. He continued to stroke himself until he too, came, and spewed semen all over my pussy, and legs and abdomen. He quickly removed the vibrator, and asked if I was okay. I was unable to stop crying.

  “Yes,” I cried, “It was just so much sensation. Overwhelming,” I panted and my crying began to lessen. He lay beside me and stroked my arms, and pulled me close until I regained some control.

  “You didn’t like it?” he asked. He looked worried.

  “No, no, that’s not it,” I stated. “I just don’t think I could do that every night, or I might go crazy.” I knew I wasn’t explaining it right, I just didn’t have the words right now, couldn’t form the thoughts.

  “But once in a while?” he asked hopefully. His hands still continues to caress me, soothe me.

  “Most definitely!” I leaned up and kissed him on the lips, then collapsed back onto the bed.

  He held me for a few minutes like that, and then got up, to use the restroom. He came out with a washcloth and cleaned me up, and gave me one of his shirts to wear. I slipped it on and inhaled it. I loved it when he let me wear his shirts. I loved to breathe in his scent all night. It comforted me. He cleaned up the toys we had used and then came to bed spooning me in the position he liked best. “Thank you, Monica. You don’t know how much it meant to me for you to do this, baby,” his words said in a whisper tickled the hair along my nape, and he pressed a kiss there.

  I wanted to tell him, I loved him in that moment, but instead I just said, “You’re welcome.” And, I fell asleep in his arms.

  Sunday was another late morning. We ran together again along another one of Ft. Lauderdale’s beaches, had a quick breakfast at a diner, showered back in the hotel and left for home. The ride was quiet, but pleasantly so. Victor made us chef salads at his apartment for dinner and then walked me to my car. We kissed, and held each other for a long while outside my car before he spoke.

  “Thank you for a beautiful weekend, Monica. You are really so special.” The look in his eyes was one of wonder and disbelief, but then turned to regret. “I wish things were different in my life. I feel closer to you than ever, but I still can’t make you promises, promises you deserve.” He pressed my head to his chest, and held me so that I could not see his eyes, eyes that could tell me more than those painful words, but he wouldn’t let go.

  Those words crushed me after the weekend we just had. But instead of saying anything, I muttered into his neck, “Thursday, then?”

  He whispered, “Thursday,” and let me go. He turned and walked to his apartment without ever looking back.

  But, Thursday never happened. I got the call at four o’clock, something had come up with family. That’s all he could say. Would say? I didn’t ask. He might be able to come Sunday though, but that didn’t happen either.

  The following Thursday, Victor did come see me. We watched the finale of Friends, me on one side of the sofa, him on the other. He was quiet and subdued. “I’m really going to miss that show,” he sighed. “Come on I need comfort food,” he gave me his hand and I took it. We went to Village Inn and had pie and talked about the episode. I could tell other things were on his mind bothering him. I asked about his work. He admitted to me again that he hated it. The people he hired didn’t show up when they were supposed to, didn’t follow directions, had no respect for other guys doing different jobs. It was not like the military where everything was orderly, and structured. He missed the rank and file. The respect. In the military if you did not do what you were supposed to there were consequences. If he fired someone, it delayed the whole job, and it was a nightmare rescheduling. I sympathized. I knew how behavior problems could screw up a whole lesson plan.

  I asked him as I moved my chocolate silk pie around on the plate, “Why don’t you go back to the military? If it made you happy, you should see if you can back in.”

  “I’d love to. I really would. The money wasn’t great, but at least I felt like I was doing something worthwhile, something that mattered. It’s not like building condos and townhouses for rich people that spend a week or two in them at most every year.” He rubbed his temples.

  “Did you change jobs just for the money?” I asked not sure if I should probe deeper, but wanting to help him with this decision.

  “Pretty much, yeah.” He replied. He pushed his apple pie away just as untouched as my own.

  “Do you really need the money?” I asked. Again, I was trying to get him to way his pros and cons.

  “Not really,” he replied. “I changed jobs because there were expectations that I earn more.” He left it at that and I didn’t ask for more information. I knew from experience that when people wanted your advice they would ask for it. But, I could have asked whose expectations. I didn’t want to press to hard. I wondered why he put so much pressure on himself. Many military families got by on their salaries. It wasn’t a great living, but
it was enough to live comfortably, gave great insurance, and a decent pension.

  Victor signaled for the check, and paid for the pie and coffee. He helped me out of the booth, held my hand on the way to the car, and got the door for me.

  We pulled into my driveway and he shut off the car, but he made no move to get out. I waited for the words I somehow knew were coming the moment he had arrived tonight and I saw his somber mood. “I’m sorry, Monica. I just don’t feel like myself today, all week actually. Got a lot on my mind with work. I hate this shit. It’s not you, okay?” he tried to reassure me when he saw my head drop. “I promise next week will be better.”

  “You don’t want to come in, at all? For a little while?” I asked looking up at him, but he would not meet my gaze.

  “I don’t think it would be a good idea. I am just not feeling it tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I said flatly. I got out of the car, he didn’t. He waited for me to unlock the front door, and before I could turn around to wave, he was backing out of my driveway.

  I went to my room, and cried myself to sleep. It had been nearly two weeks since our trip, and this had been the first time I had seen him. It wasn’t just about the sex for me. I missed his companionship, too. It was a long night, long night.

  He called me in the morning to apologize again. He laughed and said, “That episode of Friends got to me. I’ve been watching that show forever. It’s like the end of an era or something.” I thought his laugh sounded a little bit phony. When I didn’t respond right away, he added, “Okay, have a good day. I’ll call you tonight,” and hung up.

  He called every night that weekend between ten and eleven as usual. He asked about my day, told me about his but that was it. There was no more sharing, laughing, teasing. After ten minutes or so, we would hang up. The calls weren’t the same. They didn’t satisfy me or comfort me between our weekly rendezvous.