They say youth is wasted on the youth, but I’m trying my best to make that sound like an antiquated witticism that no longer applies.
At first I was leveraging the energy of my age by barely sleeping so I could do more and more work. But now the youthful exuberance that comes with my age is coming from another source.
Him.
I can’t believe one kiss has got me feeling this way. One. Little. Kiss.
He didn’t even try for seconds or bury his tongue down my throat.
No attempt at a boob grab, an ass slap, or anything ungentlemanly.
And that tells me one thing.
He’s in it for the long haul.
He’s not in a rush because he wants this to be right. And oh is it ever so right.
So right that I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to myself that I already had thoughts of when I get to come into this hospital as a patient.
A patient in a different wing.
The maternity ward.
If I told Nurse Mary it would sound so cliché. The small town girl who’s trying to make money in the city falls for the handsome and charming doctor. That right there would be enough.
But this doctor is also my neighbor and works on the same floor?
That’s got television drama made for prime time written all over it.
“So, when you get back from wrestling with Mr. Morris’s manhood you gonna tell me if you had another man’s penis in your hands last night.”
“Oh my god! Gross,” I say.
“What, penis too clinical for you? We’re nurses remember.”
“No, it’s just…no.”
“Come on, you’re spinning around the hall like Tinker Bell this morning. Touching everything with your magic wand and making it all better. Girl, you are on fire! And you’ve got that look in your eye that could only come from a night with a man like him.”
“Don’t kiss and tell, right?”
“So he kissed you! How was it? Wait. Then again I could have already guessed that. Get to the good part.”
“Good part? Isn’t that the great part?”
“Girl, when you’re my age everything is done on a timer. There are just good parts and better parts and if you’re lucky you’ll get a couple of better parts before your kids start screaming and the casserole burns.”
I can’t help but laugh. Nurse Tanya is a riot. Nurse Mary may be my best friend here at work, but Nurse Tanya isn’t exactly a distant second.
She talks about her evenings very openly, and very loudly, each and every morning in the break room.
She can make watching television, cooking green beans, or cleaning the tiles in the shower sound exciting. Last week she described how her husband surprised her while she was scrubbing the shower. Apparently she cleans naked when she’s using chemicals and stated “I must still have it because he pressed me against the tiles so hard I thought that we were dating all over again like twenty years ago.”
But that wasn’t even the funny part. She went on to describe how married life is all about compromise and in her case she took the hot surprise animalistic sex in exchange for having her face pressed against tiles, just inches from the tiles she’d just sprayed down with lemon fresh bleach. I could not stop laughing.
Nurses are used to a lot of sterilizing type smells, but nothing kills romance like the smell of cleaning supplies during a moment of intimacy.
At least that would be my guess.
But as funny and entertaining as she is I hope my life doesn’t quite turn out like hers. I mean she sure loves her kids and there seems to be a lot of excitement in her home, or maybe just a lot of embellishing the morning after, but the lack of romance seems like a bummer to me.
But when I look at Cristiano I can just tell how muscular he is underneath those clothes of his, and I just know that his blood pumps hot and hard through his veins. And his fitness level is certainly doing the same to me.
“When you get back from doing what you’ve gotta do you’re spilling the goods,” she says.
“No goods to spill,” I say. It has meaning in more ways than one, but hopefully not for long.
“Uh huh,” she says, completely not believing me.
I scurry down the hallway, or should I say spin around like Tinker Bell, ready to put my magic wand to the test again this morning.
Suddenly the strangest thought hits me.
All these big city girls are rushed for time and somewhat hardened to the pleasures of life, or the lack thereof. It suddenly makes me appreciate my small town roots, the ones I was both consciously and subconsciously trying to step away from.
Imagine if something really does happen between Cristiano and I and we somehow move to a small town and set up a family practice there together?
I’m crazy for thinking this after just one kiss, but the idea swirls around in my head as I make my way down the hall.
I wouldn’t choose a city as small as mine, but I would choose one small enough where there’s a backyard for kids to play in. A tree to sit under during the summer. And while I’m wishing maybe a space for a simple in-ground swimming pool. I laugh realizing I had to actually picture the swimming pool as in-ground. To many people there are no other kinds, but if you’re familiar enough with small towns as I am you know anything can function as a quote unquote swimming pool, during the hottest days of summer.
And that’s the dream right there. A couple kids, a dog, a little land…and my man.
I never understood why people wanted “revolutions.” By definition a revolution puts you back where you started. It’s one complete circle right?
But I’m as predictably irrational as anyone else aren’t I?
I left the small town for the big city, but now I’m already thinking about the wonderful family benefits it provided.
But just like a revolution has a high point before it returns to where it started, maybe I was the one that needed my high point.
And I’ve found it in him.
Chapter Ten
Cristiano
“Four hundred ninety-seven…
“Four hundred ninety-eight…
“Four hundred ninety-nine…
“Five hundred.”
I lay flat on my back on my living room floor in my yellow compression shorts that I do my daily workout in. The workout I always end with five hundred sit-ups.
Rose should be getting off work about five so I expect she’ll be home by six. Working out now gives me the chance to cool down, shower, and be ready to “accidentally” bump into her in the hall when she gets home.
She’s going to know I’ve been waiting for her all day, but I don’t care. I know she values cute things and another “accidental” bumping into one another in the hall gives us a chance to redo our first meeting, only this time much, much better.
I take a deep breath and exhale hard kicking myself up and into a standing position. I learned the move in martial arts and I still use it to this day. It just really gets the blood flowing, although no exercise gets my blood flowing like she does…and I’m in tip top shape to boot.
Suddenly I hear what sounds like the elevator?
What the heck.
I grab for a pair of jeans and step into them, hastily fastening the belt.
I open the door and catch her just as she steps out of the elevator.
For the second time this week a quart of her ice cream hits the floor, but this time it has nothing to do with me.
Or does it?
Her eyes hungrily scan my body from top to bottom and I realize I stepped into the hall without a shirt on. Not only that but I’ve been working out hard for the last forty-five minutes. I had to go hard today. I have so much energy. I had a day off of work and I was in the apartment all day just thinking of her. I had to burn some of that energy off, or at least I thought I could. Wrong.
And now there’s more energy in the air on our floor than there ever has been.
I’m still breathing hard and from the looks
of things her breath is picking up too.
“This is becoming our thing I see,” I say.
She slowly squats down to pick up the ice cream. Squatting versus bending allows her to keep her eyes on me, and for my eyes to wander across her curves as she lowers herself to pick up the carton.
“At least it didn’t spill out this time,” I say thinking how dangerously close I am to spilling something creamy of my own right here and now.
I can’t believe just the sight of her has me this close. I’ve just been so worked up since last night and the post exercise rush of blood isn’t helping right now either.
“I was thinking we could share it,” she says.
“I’m starving,” I say. I doubt she considered eating it right now when she bought it, but I need any excuse, any reason I can find, to be with her right now. Plus I’m still hot from the workout. Some ice cream would be nice.
And even nicer if she lets me lick a bit of the creamy goodness off the side of her neck…the inside of her thigh…and a few other places I’d absolutely love to put my tongue.
“Me too,” she says.
She brings herself back to a standing position and I can see I’m not the only one who’s hot.
“You’re sweating,” I say.
“Sorry, maybe I should take a shower first,” she says. “It’s a summer scorcher today.”
“You can use mine,” I say.
“Your…shower?”
“Yeah, it’s…it’s really nice. You have to try it,” I say. How ridiculous was that juvenile attempt to get her inside my flat? This girl is melting my brain quicker than the ice cream on this hot day.
Her eyes scan me up and down again.
“Do you have any really big super soft towels?”
Chapter Eleven
Rose
Asking about towels was just an excuse.
He opens his mouth to reply, but not before I close the distance between us and make a reply impossible.
Our first kiss was tender, singular and perfect.
Not our second. Oh no. Nor our third or fourth or fifth as we devour each other in passion as the ice cream I just picked up hits the floor again…for the third time since we met, if that first time really consisted of meeting.
Maybe it did and maybe it didn’t but what it certainly did consist of is us noticing each other and the foundation of attraction to be laid, very, very quickly.
And laid is exactly what I want to get right now as in laid out on his bed while we turn up the heat and humidity to match the triple digits of both outside. One hundred degrees with one hundred percent humidity and I know we’re well on our way to exceeding it.
I instinctively raise a leg and feel his strong, calloused fingers slide in underneath my thigh picking my leg up off the ground while his other hands grips my ass hard lifting me in my entirety as if I were nothing more than a feather.
I wrap my legs around his back and he turns half a rotation putting my back against the wall as his hand slides up my back.
So much for making it to the bedroom.
I feel the smooth gray bricks on my back and relish in their coolness. I’m way too hot right now and only getting hotter.
I feel my feet touch the floor again and the dress I changed into lift as his hands grip the fabric and then my midsection as he stares down my throbbing need.
He jerks my panties down and I hear a deep moan escape the depths of his stomach or somewhere even deeper within him and his lust is met with a whimper of my own.
I’m technically above him, but he’s in complete control as he dives in head first licking straight up my folds and giving my clit a quick flick before rolling it around with the tip of his tongue.
I’m experiencing all kinds of firsts and it’s just too much at once. The warmth inside me is met with a rush of blood to my brain and my body completely overloads and I feel my midsection tighten and then a wave flow through me.
He sticks his tongue inside me and meets my climax.
Here I was wondering if I was even capable of having an orgasm and the sight and feel of him tasting me sent me over the edge immediately.
“I want to taste you,” I say imagining his salty sweet juices exploding in my mouth as I’ve just done in his.
I wonder what will be more fulfilling, the complete rush that just overtook me or the feeling in knowing I’m able to do the same thing to him.
It’s complete perfection either way and I’m in a hurry to find out.
He stands and I reach for his belt tugging at the brown leather wildly remembering the buckle has to come unclasped first. My mind is racing too fast thinking of everything I want to do to him but processing nothing.
I need to slow down, but I can’t. My entire being is on complete autopilot wanting to taste his length.
I get the clasp unhinged and tug the leather through the loops feeling his hand gently move through my hair. His hand is just there, not pushing or pressing just massaging my scalp and I definitely appreciate that he’s not being aggressive with my head, not that I would expect anything less from the man who’s been perfect from the get go.
I grab the sides of his pants and jerk them down now face to face with tight, yellow workout compression shorts separating me from what I really want. He’s pointing straight at me and I can already see wetness on his gear.
I can’t wait to jerk it to the side and please him but first I freeze in shock of his size.
There is no way that thing is fitting inside my mouth.
But damn how I can’t wait to try.
I hear a ding and look towards the elevator.
“What the..”
I feel his grasp on my shoulder as he jerks me up off the floor and yanks up my panties.
I straighten my dress as he fumbles with his zipper and then his belt.
Thank god for the few second delay our elevator has.
We’re still straightening ourselves out when the door opens and a cleaning lady steps out.
“Oh,” she says.
Oh is right. As in the big O I just experienced and the one I was about ready to give him.
“I’m really, really sorry to interrupt, but a pipe broke and I have to get to it right away,” she says.
I look and see a pipe wrench in her hand and realize this is very serious.
“There are some men coming in just a few minutes to help me. They just arrived at the building,” she says.
“Right,” Cristiano says realizing our impromptu session has been cut short without a chance of it starting back up anytime soon…at least out here in the hallway.
I grab my ice cream and make a beeline for my door. I’m dripping wet, slightly embarrassed, and still horny as heck. I need a second to regroup.
“Our ice cream,” I hear Cristiano say, but it’s too late.
“Later!” I say as I shut my door behind me placing my back against the door as I try and catch my breath.
My back slides down the door and quickly I feel my butt hit the floor.
“What in the world was that?” I say softly to myself. “And when can we pick up where we left off. Oh. My. God.”
I was dangerously close to giving him my V card right there in the hallway, and indirectly I kind of did. I’ve never gone that far with anyone in my life…and not just in an attempt but in a result. I’ve never let a man even so much as think he might get a shot at seeing my pussy so much as actually letting him run the flat part of his tongue up and down it and then flicking my clit in his mouth…and that was just the appetizer to the four course meal that he quickly made me.
But I didn’t get what I wanted from him. He must be in so much pain right now. He’s probably standing in the hallway with a raging erection thanks to me freaking out and running back home. How greedy am I?
I owe him one. A big one. Big enough to match…the length that was inches from my face.
Oh my god, how am I going to be able to handle that.
I feel like my pulse is now
here near slowing and I’m sweating even more than I was, my body still catching up to what happened and probably cooling me off in advance for what it was expecting…
…but not what’s coming now unfortunately.
And all thanks to a broken pipe.
Well, I’m sure leaking. There’s no disputing that. I wouldn’t be surprised if this continues the rest of the day. Good grief.
But his pipe is nearly broken for a different reason. Pressure which was quickly built but wasn’t relieved.
I’m definitely going to do something about that. I can barely wait.
I grab the ice cream and bring it to my forehead trying to cool myself off.
What is it with us and ice cream?
I laugh a little bit and then my head fills with thoughts that are anything but humorous.
Oh, how I’d like to lick ice cream off those eight pack abs of his. Pour chocolate syrup across his perfect pecs.
And then cover his rod in it and lick it like a lollipop until it’s completely clean.
And oh how my thoughts are so dirty.
It reminds me of the romance books I used to read before I became so obsessed with work.
People wonder how virgins and readers can be so sexual even if they aren’t so sexually active so much?
Easy.
They’re the few that have control of the biggest sexual organ in the body.
The mind.
And mine has been working overtime since the moment I saw him.
And I can’t wait to put it to work, under this older man’s tutelage.
Not that I’ll need any instruction.
I know exactly what I want to do to him and how I want my first time to go down.
Oh, he’s going to be surprised…and shocked…and completely satisfied.
Chapter Twelve
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Box Set 5 Page 22
