Sketch

by Laramie Briscoe

  “And I accepted it with a smile on my face until I expected it, and in the long run, I forgot to appreciate you. We’ve both been dumbasses,” she tells me as she turns around to grab the pork chops out of the oven and green beans from the stove.

  I help her carry everything over to the dinner table she’s already set.

  “I mean, take this for example,” she says as she has a seat beside me. “When was the last time I cooked your favorite meal and we sat down and ate together?”

  I think back, a long way back, and it’s hard, but there’s a memory. “Six years ago,” I tell her as I take a bite of my pork chop, almost moaning as the flavor hits my tongue. “We bought this house, and it was our first meal here.”

  “Wow.” She looks at me with wonder on her face. “I didn’t realize it had been that long.”

  Neither had I.

  “I’m sorry, Sketch. That’s all I can say. I’m sorry, and I want to give this a shot.”

  It means a lot to hear her say that. “I’m sorry too. As long as we both put the work in, this will end up how it’s supposed to.” I don’t offer her promises, because I have none. Now, all I can offer her is the reality.

  Beside me, my phone rings and I see her glance down at it, her body tense. The Sketch of before would have taken this call, left her alone for thirty minutes, and come back to a fuming wife. This time, I silence it, get up, walk over to the counter, and set it there before walking back over to the table. “How’s work going?” I ask.

  The smile on her face is breathtaking, and the relaxing of her shoulders is the best gift I’ve ever been given.

  “It’s going pretty well.” She takes a drink of the wine in front of her. “You don’t know this, but I changed positions.”

  Back when she’d left me, Nina was an administrative coordinator for a Montessori School in the area. “Oh really?”

  “Yeah.” She nods. “I hated being cooped up in that office all the time, running errands because no one else had the time. I have my own class now.” She beams at me with pride.

  “For real?” I’m amazed. I never knew she wanted to teach, and I tell her so.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for the past two years. When it seemed like we were never going to get around to trying for those kids we always talked about.” She slaps her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry.” Her face reddens.

  I reach over and grab her hand. “I’m not going to say that doesn’t sting, but we can’t automatically change ourselves. There’s going to be some growing pains.”

  She takes a breath. “Anyway, I started helping out in classes every once in a while. Two months ago, a full-time position opened up and I applied. I love it! I see why you want to go to work every day when you love what you do. It’s something new each day—of course, there are times when those kids are crazy, but I love that I’m making a difference.”

  “I’m happy for you,” I tell her, and I am. “It means something when you go into work and you know you’re going to make a difference. It may be a small one, but it’s pretty damn sweet.”

  I take the last bite of food on my plate and lean back against the chair. “I think I have a food baby in my belly.” I laugh. “Jesus, I normally don’t eat that much in a week anymore. I’m definitely gonna have to get my run in, in the morning,” I tell her as I lift up my shirt, showing how full I am.

  Her lids get heavy, and a small smile tilts the edges of her mouth. “I noticed that about you. You’ve been working out.”

  I feel the pull of her, I feel the pleasure she’s taking in looking at me, and it makes me feel ten feet tall and like the strongest motherfucker in the world. “I have,” I confirm. “It started out as a way to get rid of the anger. I found out I love running, but lately I’ve been doing more than cardio. I lost twenty-five pounds, and now I’ve put back on ten of muscle,” I tell her, the side of my own mouth kicking up in a grin.

  “I like it.”

  I can tell by the interest in her eyes that she does. Leaning over, I cup the back of her neck in my hand and pull her lips to mine. The pace I set is slow, leisurely, the way I want to fuck her next time. I pull back and get up from the chair, grabbing her hand. “C’mon.”

  Chapter Twelve

  SKETCH

  Nina doesn’t comment when I take us into the living room. The bedroom is still too intimate for me. It’s still a place I’m not sure I can go with her yet. I need to know she’s not going to change her mind before I take her there.

  The two of us don’t say anything as I have a seat on the couch, leaning my back against the plush cushions and getting comfortable, placing my feet on the floor and widening my knees.

  “C’mere.” I motion to her with my finger. She’s wearing a dress, so this is perfect.

  When she gets close enough, I grab her around the waist and pull her so that she has to straddle my lap.

  “What are we doing, Sketch?” she asks, biting her bottom lip.

  “We’re seeing where it goes,” I tell her as I move my hands up from her waist and push them into her hair, tilting her head back on her shoulders.

  Leaning forward, I kiss the pulse point there, sucking the skin and nipping it slightly with my teeth before running my tongue over the sting. She moans, tightening her fingers on my shoulders, grinding her hips against me. I’m already hard, but I’m ignoring it tonight. Tonight I want the tease.

  Pushing my fingers further up into her hair, I tilt her head so that I can capture her lips, thrusting my tongue past hers, as she meets me halfway. She’s eating me up, just like I’m eating her up. I toy with the straps of her dress, taking them off her shoulders and pulling the material down to her stomach, taking the strapless bra with me. I spend a couple of minutes there, manipulating her perky breasts with my hands, punishing the skin, and plucking at her nipples.

  My hands abandon her tits as I run them down her body, encountering the hem of the dress she’s wearing. My fingers trail up her thighs, and I feel her tremble in my arms. I push my hands up; bringing the dress with me until I feel the ties of the g-string she’s wearing at her hips. Quickly, I untie both sides and pull the material from between her legs.

  “God, Sketch.” She pulls her lips away from mine, moaning as she buries her head in my neck. “I’m so wet, so hot, that almost made me come.”

  I know exactly how she feels. The tease has always been the biggest turn on for me, and this is the biggest tease in the world, because tonight, I don’t plan on fucking her. I’m holding it from not only her but from me too. I want the next time we come together to be for the right reasons.

  “Grind down on me,” I instruct her, pushing her down onto the tent in my shorts. I can feel her heat through the clothes I’m wearing, and it’s the best kind of torture.

  She’s rotating her hips in a motion I know will get her off. Bending my head down, I take one of her hard nipples into my mouth, laving it with my tongue, nipping at it with my teeth.

  “Sketch,” she gasps again, and this time it’s breathless.

  She’s grinding down on me, my cock is pointing straight up, leaking like a sieve. I know the tip of it is hitting her clit, because I feel her intake of breath each time it does. Her forehead is leaning against my shoulder as she circles her hips around me; my hands are grasping her ass cheeks tightly, helping her to rotate her hips, helping her to get as close to me as she can. It feels as good for me as it does for her.

  I feel it, her letting go as she tightens and turns her mouth into my neck, sucking harshly as she comes against me.

  “Fuck, Sketch,” she breathes out. “I’ve not come from dry humping since we were teenagers.” She giggles slightly.

  Little does she know I’m not done with her yet. Trailing my hand down her body, I use my thumb to strum her clit before I slowly sink two fingers inside her wet heat.

  “Oh God,” she moans. “So sensitive,” she whispers. “So fucking sensitive.” She whimpers as she both tries to push herself closer and get away
at the same time.

  “You want another, baby?” I ask against her hair. “It’s here if you want it.”

  She breathes heavily against me and then slowly starts to grind against my fingers, crushing her clit against the palm of my hand. I’ve never felt her this wet before, and it’s killing me not to pull my cock out of my pants and jack myself while I get her off.

  “Do it,” she tells me. “I know what you’re thinking. Do it, I wanna see it.”

  The two of us fumble with my shorts, her rising up on her knees to give me room. I purposely don’t stop my fingers; I follow that pussy as it lifts, and she gives me the hottest look I’ve ever seen in my life. My hand and her fingers fight with one another trying to get my shorts off, but we finally accomplish it, and I’m bare to both of us.

  This isn’t going to take long, and I know it.

  Nina gives me the sexiest smile as she grabs my free hand and pushes it between her thighs, wetting it with the evidence of her good time. I moan as she does this, never stopping as my fingers pump in and out of her. She pulls my hand back and uses her hand to wrap mine around the length of my cock. It’s hard, and the tip is already moist and wet from the amount of pre-cum that’s left a wet spot on the shorts I can see on the couch over to my right. I don’t do any preliminaries. Normally, I like to tease myself a little, work the head with my palm and get it nice and ready to go. Tonight I’m already there.

  “That’s so hot,” Nina breathes. “Seeing you do that to yourself while you’re doing what you’re doing to me. Jesus, Sketch, when did we stop doing stuff like this?”

  I don’t even want to think about it right now. Right now my thoughts are all focused at the tip of my fingers and between my legs.

  I already feel a tightening at my spine, feel my cock getting harder, the way it does before I come. I speed up my fingers on Nina, shoving them in and out of her until my forearm screams with pain and tension, but I’m not giving up on this. Not this time. I run my thumb quickly over her clit, feeling it engorge, just like the head of my dick.

  “Right there,” she tells me, and her hands move up to her tits, her fingers circling her hard nipples, the tips yanking on the ends. Her face is flushed, her bottom lip is between her teeth, and the tendons of her neck are stretched tight as she leans her head back, letting her hair brush my thighs.

  It takes seconds until I feel her come against my hand, feel her drip onto my palm. And that’s it, I can’t take the tease anymore, and I’m pumping my length so hard it’s the only thing I can hear in the room. Then I feel it.

  “Shit,” I groan, shoving my hips up towards her, feeling my release explode against both of us. My hips keep pumping even after I know I’m done, and I look down, seeing another mess between the two of us. This time, though, I know it’s only a physical mess, not an emotional one, and it makes this mess completely worth it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  SKETCH

  Arson is back in my chair today, and we’re powering through, trying to finish the piece we started the week before.

  “You doing alright?” I ask him as I lean up, stretching my back out.

  “I’m good if you’re good,” he tells me. “I’ll need a smoke break if we’re still doin’ this in an hour though.”

  I nod, knowing we probably will be.

  “You seem better than the last time I saw you,” he mentions as he readjusts before I lean back in, continuing on the piece.

  “I’m good,” I tell him. “Nina and I are trying to work things out, so I’m hopeful.”

  That’s the first time I’ve used the “hopeful” word with anyone, and it strikes me as kind of funny that I used it with Arson, but it’s true. “That’s tight, man, it takes a lot for two people to admit their faults and then admit they want to work on things.”

  “That’s what we’re doing. So far it’s been good, but I don’t want to jinx anything just yet.”

  “I totally feel that. Me and the old lady,” he winces as I hit a tender spot, “one time we thought about giving up, but we worked it out. Took us almost a year, and sometimes those same gripes and complaints come back up, but we try not to take the bait with one another.”

  I shift in my seat and grab the other color I’m using to shade. “Yeah, dude, that seems like it’s going to be hardest thing so far. I mean it’s hard to let habits die. Ya know?”

  “Fuck yeah, that’s why I’m still smoking.” He grins over at me. “But you’re young, right?”

  “I’ll be twenty-nine in two weeks,” I tell him. Fuck, I feel old though.

  “Oh yeah, you’re a baby. Nina’s your age, the two of you just gotta figure shit out. Giving up is easy. It’s the making it work, that’s the hard part.”

  I realize with clarity that he’s right. Giving up was easy, deciding to try to make it work has been the hardest decision of all, and I know it’s going to be a work in progress for a while. It’s been a couple of days since my gym session and my dry hump fest with Nina, but my forearm is still a little sore, and I realize a few minutes later that I’m the one that needs the break.

  “Let’s go ahead and do that smoke break. Holding this gun sometimes makes my arms and hand hurt,” I tell him as I roll back from where he sits and start taking my stuff off.

  “I’m good with that.” He reaches into his pocket and grabs out his cigarettes and lighter as we make our way outside.

  I grab my phone off the counter, as well as my own cigarettes, and follow him. We light up, and I see I have a few text messages from Nina, and I check them while Arson and I talk.

  So, hubby of mine, I’ve seriously been looking at this #igotsketched tag, and I have to say, I didn’t know you did more than tats.

  Shit. I can already see where this is going to go. I’m also a licensed piercer, but I don’t enjoy it. It’s something I’ve done for extra money when the shop needed it. Arson takes a phone call, and I continue to scroll through her messages, taking a hit off my cigarette.

  I found this and I thought it looked interesting.

  I pull up the media message and see a woman’s nipples with barbells through them, tagged with my hashtag. I know who this chick is because I also did her tats. She’s one of my most loyal customers.

  Does it? I ask her. I’m not really sure what she’s getting at, and I wonder if she’ll have time to answer me back. Now that I know she’s teaching, I think twice about texting her through the day.

  It does.

  That was quick, and I’m answering her just as quick. In what way?

  She answers back.

  I think of you leaning over my chest, your breath hitting my nipples as you mark me up and then pierce me. I think of the way I like your teeth on my skin there, and then I wonder if I would love this or not.

  I’m breathing hard as I read this message. Who knew that my wife would be interested in having her nipples pierced?

  Nipple clamps would give you roughly the same feeling. I’m typing out quickly, before she stops talking about this. We could always give those a try out, babe; you let me know when and where. You like that—then we’ll talk about the piercing, but I’ll be the only person piercing you. No other motherfucker will be seeing what’s mine. Tits, pussy, anything you want done, I’ll be doing myself.

  Hmm…I’ll have to look into this. Have a good day, Dev.

  She talks to me about piercing her nipples and nipple clamps and then leaves me a have a good day? What the actual fuck? Shit. We’ve never done this kind of stuff before, and I’m not sure my dick can handle it. Six months away from each other has changed us, it’s made us more open, and I’m not sure I can survive this shit daily.

  What the fuck? Have a good day? Yeah, I’ll have a good day when my dick softens enough for me to sit back on my chair and concentrate. You’re killing me.

  It’s not much longer until another message comes back in as I’m chain smoking like a motherfucker hoping to calm myself down.

  If it makes you feel any better, if I ha
d a change of panties, I’d need them right now.

  Fuck me, where the hell did this woman come from and where has she been hiding? It’s a part of her personality I never knew she had, but I love it. I want to explore more of it, and I can’t wait until we spend some more time together.

  Movies tonight? I’ll pick you up at 7?

  That gives me enough time to go home and take care of my problem. I’ll be waiting.

  I laugh, running my fingers across the beard I’m sporting. I haven’t shaved in three days. Wonder how she’ll like the feeling of that against her soft skin? I’ll make sure she finds out tonight.

  Chapter Fourteen

  SKETCH

  Fall is coming; I can feel it in the air as I walk out of the house. I can smell it in my nose as I take a deep inhale, feeling the coolness in my lungs. At six o’clock it’s already dark. This is my favorite time of the year. This is when I come alive. There’s a bite in the air that tells me winter is coming and I get to get all my hoodies and long-sleeved shirts out of storage. No more sweating my balls off as I’m making my morning runs.

  In my experience, this is when the real customers start coming around too. They aren’t getting a tattoo because it’s going to look cute with their swimsuit or because it’s hot enough that they can cut the sleeves off their shirts. I can stop with the cutesy tattoos and get dark and deep. These are exciting times for me.

  When they sit in my chair in the fall and winter, they are serious, and I love it. I remember back when we first got out on our own, Nina and I made a huge deal over Halloween. We haven’t even handed out candy the last three years.

  I get into my truck and turn the heat on low. The gray thermal I’m wearing will keep me warm, but I have leather seats, and I’m not sure what Nina’s wearing tonight. The news said the lows would dip into the upper forties tonight, and to me, that’s perfect.

  Driving across town to pick up Nina is foreign to me. Even in high school we lived close to one another. I’ve been to her apartment once, and that time wasn’t particularly a good situation for either of us. The cops were called, if I remember correctly.