Unzipped

by Anne Mercier

He scoots down a bit, laces his fingers behind his head on the pillow. “If you insist.”

  “I do.” I pull the sheet back over my head and begin anew. It’s not long before I’ve got a good rhythm going. Then I reach between his legs and cup his balls.

  “Fuck!” he shouts.

  I hum a laugh and he groans loudly again.

  I release his cock from my mouth and take it into my hand, then I lower my head to suckle one of his balls.

  “This isn’t going to last long.”

  “Hmm,” I reply, suckling the other ball. I lick the vein on the underside of his cock all the way from base to tip. I lean in to suck his cock deep, then roll his balls in my hand. He curses again, then groans. His hands fist in the sheet, pulling it lower, uncovering my head.

  I don’t need the sheet anymore. His actions, his words, his sounds of need, tell me I’m doing everything he needs me to do to bring him the same level of pleasure he gives me when he licks me to heaven.

  It’s time.

  I work him faster, sucking harder, using a hand at the base of his cock to make up for what I can’t take into my mouth, and rolling his balls with the other.

  “Baby, I’m going to come if you keep that up.”

  I don’t need his warning nor do I heed it. I don’t care. I want him to.

  I just keep going, then slip my tongue into the mix, running it along the underside of his dick while I work his length. I’m a woman on a mission and it’s one to have this man coming hard and long, letting me hear his sounds of absolute ecstasy.

  His hands tangle in my hair, pulling it a bit.

  “I’m sorry, baby, but I need to move,” he apologizes.

  I brace myself and just as I do he thrusts hard into my mouth. I gag a bit, but breathe through my nose and anticipate the next desperate push of his hips, his cock going deeper as I suck harder.

  “Baby, if you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you better move.”

  Yet another warning I ignore.

  Another handful of thrusts and he grunts as the first squirt of cum hits the back of my throat, then he groans so loud I want to laugh in delight as, with each plunge into my mouth, his cum splashes in my throat. I struggle to swallow so it doesn’t leak from my mouth. When he collapses in a heap beneath me, I realize I achieved what I set out to. Mental fist pump. Brought. To. His. Knees.

  I lift my head, licking my lips, and he groans softly.

  “Good?” I ask.

  “Any better and you’d have killed me,” he replies with a look of satisfaction.

  I give him a sassy wink then go to the bathroom to rinse my mouth and drink some water. By the time I get back, he’s lying on his side, head propped on his hand, waiting for me.

  I slip under the sheet next to him.

  “That was unexpected,” he murmurs.

  I lift a brow. “Was it?”

  He nods slightly. “Most women don’t go so far as to swallow anymore.”

  “I’m not most women.”

  “No, you certainly are not.”

  I roll to my side to face him. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

  “A very good thing.”

  I can’t hide my smile. I like being different. I’ve always prided myself on being just me. No one and nothing but me. To have that accepted so readily by this man, this one-night man, is exciting and an ego boost. I can always use an ego boost.

  “We’re running out of time,” he reminds me.

  I look at the clock and he’s right. Time is running out quickly. I vowed to be home at dawn and we’ve got maybe an hour until my carriage turns into a pumpkin.

  “What should we do about it?”

  “Fuck. Nonstop fucking until you have to go.”

  “I’m down with that,” I tell him with a wink. I lean forward and slide my leg over him, rolling him to his back. Leaning in closer, and even closer, I slant my mouth over his and give him a closed-mouth kiss.

  He grabs the back of my hair and pulls my head back.

  “Oh, we can do better than that.” His mouth, open and ready, attacks mine with fervor. Our tongues mating, our breathing getting faster, our bodies getting hotter.

  “Mmm,” I moan, rubbing against his already hardening cock.

  Without notice, he rolls me to my back and I let out a girly squeal. He chuckles.

  “Hold on, baby. It’s about to get rough.”

  “I like rough.”

  5

  She likes it rough. I already knew that. Let’s find out if she likes it raw and dirty.

  I reach between her legs to test her readiness.

  “So wet,” I praise.

  She just pants in return.

  I slip a finger inside her, then another, and she moans again.

  Sweet Jesus, that moan.

  I drive her to the edge, then back off, leaving her wanting. It’s not going to be so easy this time. I want more than one orgasm while I’m fucking her. I want to feel her pussy squeeze my cock—not my fingers.

  “Oh, please,” she begs, writhing against my hand.

  “Not yet,” I tell her. My cock is throbbing with the need to take her, but I need to watch her, memorize her in this moment, as I know it’ll never happen this way again.

  “Mitch,” she nearly growls.

  I chuckle and she snarls.

  “Alright, baby.”

  I roll on the condom, turn her on her side, and slip in behind her. She lifts her leg over my thigh, then higher over my hip. I really like the way this woman thinks.

  I slowly sink inside her. She’s so wet. So tight. So responsive. I begin to move, slowly at first, but she’s having none of that. Her mewls of protest aren’t so bad but the crescents she’s leaving in my forearms from her fingernails bite a bit.

  “More,” she pleads.

  “I’ll give you what you want.”

  “Now. I want to come. Please.”

  Sliding my hand around to her clit, I pump harder into her while my thumb strums her hard, swollen flesh.

  She moves with me. I push up, she pushes down to meet me thrust for thrust, beautifully in sync. When she starts to falter, her pussy walls start to tighten around me. I pinch her clit and fuck her so hard she’s moving up the bed. It must be what she needs because she comes on a scream. There it is. My name falling from her lips in the throes of rapture, her body shaking and shuddering, and I ease up slightly, just enough to lift her hips and turn us so she’s on her elbows and knees, her hair a wild mess across the pillows and her forearms.

  I spank her ass and she lets out a squeak, her pussy tightening again.

  “Is that okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but I could use a minute…”

  “Nuh-uh. No minutes are going to be wasted.”

  I spank her again then soothe the red mark with my hand. She responds with a groan.

  “I don’t think you’re cooperating right now, baby,” I chastise.

  “Oh no, I am. I just…”

  “Not good enough.”

  I lean forward and gather her hair into my hands, wrapping it around my fist and tug. She rises up on all fours and looks at me out of the corner of her eye.

  “So you are kinky.”

  I shrug. “Let’s find out.”

  And then I move. I thrust and touch and fuck and lick and spank and I take her pleasure in return. It isn’t long and she’s right with me again. I let go of her hair and wrap a hand around her neck, slowly pulling her up and back against me so we’re both on our knees.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter. This position, the way she looks all wild and wanton, the way my cock looks slipping in and out of her pussy. Everything is amplified somehow. Each ounce of ecstasy multiplying until the room is filled with it.

  We slow, savoring the glorious friction, our bodies covered in sweat.

  “Oh, Mitch, I need to come. Please.”

  I pause, turning her around so she’s straddling my lap, and plunge right back inside her. Her pussy ripples and I pray I can hol
d off until she comes. The sensations are spiraling down my spine and into my balls and, fuck me, it’s all I can do to hold back.

  I pull her tighter against me and lift and lower her faster, harder, her clit rubbing against me and she’s gone. She’s soaring, flying high. I wish I could watch but it’s too much.

  I let go and let out a shout as the first splash of cum hits the condom. My body stiffens, my breathing shallows, as the orgasm permeates every part of my being. Bliss. Rapture. I fuck my way through, letting it all free because this is it.

  Our time’s up.

  By the time I get out of the shower, she’s gone. I knew she would be. She didn’t seem like the type to be good at goodbye. I wish we’d gotten a few more minutes, but it wasn’t meant to be.

  Just one night.

  That’s what this was but it was one hell of a night.

  6

  I didn’t bother showering in the room. I knew if I left right then, I’d have time to shower before dawn and I was right.

  Standing here, in my kitchen, in my yoga pants and t-shirt, it seems as if last night never happened, but I know differently. My pussy knows differently. My entire body knows differently. That was one wild and crazy night.

  The things we did to one another. I blush at the memory.

  I pour my cup of coffee and add creamer, then go to stand and look out the glass patio doors. The sun’s beginning to illuminate the sky with hues of oranges, yellows, and purples. It’s going to be a beautiful day.

  We don’t have any plans. Maybe we’ll go rent a couple movies and spend the day in. Or if it gets warm enough, maybe we’ll talk a walk along the beach. I’m sure Max, our golden retriever, would love to run and swim before fall sets in.

  I’m just pouring my second cup of coffee when his SUV pulls into the drive. I pull his favorite mug from the cupboard and fill it before he even walks through the door.

  My husband, with his dark hair and good looks, is a prize. I knew it the minute I saw him in eleventh grade. He’d just moved here from Georgia. The twinkle in his eye, his happy-go-lucky personality, and that southern accent were my undoing.

  He walks in in jeans and a t-shirt with a smile. I watch as he hangs his keys on the hook by the door.

  I’m sipping my coffee and holding a cup out to him with a lift of my brow.

  “You’re such a good wife,” he tells me, and I know he means it. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me nor I for him.

  “You’re a pretty good husband.”

  He takes his coffee with one hand and pulls me close with the other. He kisses my forehead then sips his coffee.

  “Max?”

  “Outside. He was pacing for you so I just let him out back.”

  “I’ll take him for a walk in a few minutes. Tell me about your event,” he probes.

  “It was boring, mostly. Then I met the most interesting man. Mitch. He seemed to be getting harassed by the mayor.”

  “The old goat loves to talk, doesn’t he?”

  “And then some.”

  “So you hit it off with this Mitch?”

  “I did. At first I wasn’t sure, but then that bad boy came out and I was putty in his hands,” I admit.

  “Yeah? I know how you love bad boys.”

  “You should. You’re one of them,” I tease.

  “I pride myself on that.”

  “What about you? Did you meet anyone?”

  He nods and grins. “I did. Her name was Raven. She was absolutely exquisite.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Mmm. Now, tell me Raven aka Zarah aka wife aka Mrs. Roanan Mitch, did you enjoy our night of forbidden fantasies?”

  I can sense his uncertainty. I have a little myself with all that happened.

  “I did, except for the minor blip.”

  Roanan blows out a breath. “I’ve gotta tell you, Zar, I wasn’t expecting to learn about me. I mean, we talked about your hang-ups, about letting go and how maybe role playing that I was a stranger would help ease your inhibitions, but who knew I had some?”

  I raise my hand.

  “Really.” It’s not a question.

  I nod. “Roanan, we’ve only ever been with each other. If we’re someone else, our experiences will be different. When I was finally able to let go, I think you were as well.”

  “I wish you’d have told me so I hadn’t turned into a dick.”

  “Babe, I thoroughly enjoyed your dick,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

  He smirks. “I could tell.”

  I just sip my coffee and fight off a blush. After being together for eight years and married for two of them, you’d think the blushing would stop. Not with Roanan. Not when he gives me that smirk and that look.

  His grin widens. He knows and he loves it. I love it too.

  “Mitch?” I question, using my nickname for him.

  “Yeah, baby.”

  “I’m enough, right? I mean, the whole reason we’re doing the fantasy thing is so that we’ll never feel we missed out on anything, being each other’s firsts and all. But, I’m enough… for a one night stand? You don’t want the real thing? I mean, with someone else?” I ask, my insecurity coming through.

  He sets his coffee cup on the counter and takes mine and does the same before pulling me into his arms.

  His sapphire eyes meet mine and I can see the love shining in them.

  “Zarah, you are the real thing. Anything else, anyone else would be a really bad imitation of perfection. That’s what you are to me. Perfection.”

  “Mitch, you’re crazy. I am so far from perfect it’s not even funny.”

  “In who’s eyes? Not in mine. You’re perfect for me… to me. You always have been.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, getting a little teary. “I’m so lucky I snagged you before Dawn Sampson.”

  He laughs. “She never stood a chance. I didn’t even notice her, not until she threw herself at me. Once I saw you, I knew I’d have to work my charms pretty hard to get you to be my girl.”

  I roll my eyes. “You did not. You knew the minute you looked at me that I thought you were hot. My blush gave it away.”

  “Just as it does every time I look at you. And I love that about you. Don’t ever lose that blush, baby. It lets me know you’re still as hooked on me as I am on you.”

  “This blush isn’t going anywhere. Not with that look you give me and those eyes.”

  He smirks.

  “That one, right there,” I tell him with a laugh when my cheeks turn pink.

  “If you’re not feeling good about these ‘fantasies’, we don’t have to do them anymore. I don’t regret, not for one second, being only with you. I certainly don’t regret missing out on the STDs our college friends got.”

  I curl my lip.

  He chuckles. “What do you think? If this makes you uneasy or uncomfortable, I don’t want to do any of this. This was just an idea.”

  “I have no regrets, either. I love you and I trust you. I think we should keep doing them. Who knows what we’ll learn about one another?”

  “Or about ourselves.”

  I nod. “That thing you did at the end with the hair? Did you get that from one of my magazines?”

  Now, my husband lets out a loud laugh. “I did. Just like you left it there so I’d see it. I still want to try numbers five and six. Those look hot as fuck.”

  “Right? I was thinking the same. Maybe even try number nine.”

  His brows raise. “Seriously?”

  “Well, not right now,” I laugh, seeing his excitement at the idea. “Sometime, sure. Why not? I trust you.”

  “That makes me happier than I can tell you.”

  He kisses me softly, holding me close and tight as I stand on tiptoe and he bends down, way down, to reach my lips.

  “I love you, Zar.”

  “I love you, too, Mitch.”

  “What’s the plan?” he asks.

  “Take Max to the beach then rent movies and be lazy all day?�
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  “Perfect. This is why I keep you around,” he teases.

  “I thought it was for my amazing coffee making skills.”

  “That, too. And that thing you do with your tongue. Lord have mercy.”

  And there’s that southern accent. My husband gets me, and when he doesn’t, we talk it out until he does. Our marriage isn’t perfect, neither am I, nor is he, but together we’re strong and our love never wavers. To me, that’s pretty damn close to perfect.

  7

  Six months later…

  “What do you think?” I ask.

  She walks around the empty space in silence, taking it all in, the way she always does. She’s processing.

  When she comes back from walking through the other three rooms, I want to prod for an answer. But I know better. So, I just put my hands in my jeans pockets and rock back on my heels until she’s ready.

  “I like the openness. I like the light. I know you checked if the structure was sound and the plumbing and all that.”

  I don’t say anything. After eight years I know to wait. She’s not done.

  “I think this would work perfectly.”

  She turns to me. Now she’s ready to talk.

  “Do you think we’ll have enough business? What if we don’t?” Zarah asks.

  “I only suggested this to Tom the other night and with the amount of people who overheard and showed interest, we’d already have two months’ worth of clients.”

  When she first proposed the idea of opening up Forbidden Fantasies, I was opposed to it. I wanted what we were doing to be our thing. I didn’t want to share. But the more I thought about it, the less selfish I became. If we could offer experiences such as the ones Zarah and I have been organizing for ourselves, we could help keep the love and passion alive in relationships. Who knows… we might even save a marriage or two.

  What I’m looking forward to most is working with my wife. It’s something we’ve always wanted for our future and we’re making it a reality.

  She turns to me, her expression one of panic and worry, and my heart drops into my stomach.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? We don’t have to do this. It’s okay. We can wait awhile longer, until we find the right thing for both of us,” I reassure her, pulling her into a hug.