by Fields, MJ
He lays me on the bed then leans down, his wet hair fresh from a shower hanging inches above my face as he holds his body over mine. The weight is deliciously uncomfortable as I feel the tingle building deep in my belly.
Inside, I pulse everywhere, anticipating his first move.
His lips, I hunger for them. I crave the way they tasted in my dreams. I feel starved for my own fantasies.
He leans lower, his hands holding mine hostage above my head. Avoiding my lips entirely, he kisses down my body, until he is all the way down to my navel. There, he pulls my shirt up, and that is when I remember I didn’t put on a bra after my shower. At that moment, as he pushes my shirt up with his nose, as he nibbles his way to my breast, I am forever grateful I forgot.
When his mouth takes my left nipple and he sucks on it, I feel euphoric.
“Oh, God … Yes, Jonathon.”
Lying in bed, I am basking in the afterglow of a first for me. I allow myself to embrace my sexuality. Sex, without the burden of strings or expectations.
An experience I never want to forget.
~Jonathon~
It’s been three hours since I left her with no goodbye, no promise of return, just a kiss on the end of her nose. I can still smell her on my skin, and it makes me hard all over again.
I can’t stop thinking about her. The way my name sounded falling from her lips as her tight, little pussy strangled my cock and she came so hard, so fast, I nearly lost it.
Oh, the temptress wins tonight.
I told myself that I didn’t have time for a relationship of any kind. Even friends with benefits tie you down; everyone needs something. I don’t have time for something … for anyone. Most importantly, you never fuck where you sleep. It’s a cardinal rule.
However, daydreaming of fucking a beautiful woman and watching her come for me, that breaks no rules.
I didn’t need coffee. I don’t drink the shit.
For the last couple of weeks, she has come around, always looking down the minute I look at her. When I wasn’t looking, though, I could feel her stare. I wasn’t imagining it when I looked at my reflection in the mirror at just the right moment, rewarded with her look of appraisal.
Confidence is an aphrodisiac.
Anticipation is foreplay.
The endorphins pulse during the thrill of the chase.
She’s a high I can get addicted to. She’s a new taste I now crave.
Tonight, I made my intentions clear. Her body is my playground, and I promise to make our time together one where she feels treasured, adored, and fucking fulfilled.
Chapter Three
~Annie~
He was on my mind when I fell asleep, and when I woke up this morning.
I still felt the sweet ache when I was preparing for work.
When I dressed, I wasn’t thinking. I put on a sexy matching lace panty and bra set and then scrubs. I know I should change, but there is nothing wrong with allowing myself to feel sexy at work, and no one would be the wiser.
My secret.
Standing at the elevator, waiting for it to reach my floor, I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand. I feel his presence as I walk through the open door.
I want him so badly I am afraid if I look up, he will see it in my eyes. Therefore, I keep my eyes focused on the floor.
Each floor we descend, the more people get onto the elevator, the closer he gets to me.
“Good morning, Jonathon,” each person says. The men give a friendly nod, the older women hold a sweetness in their voice, and the younger women are overtly sexual.
He responds, “Good morning,” to each in the same even tone.
I am fully aware that he is getting closer and closer. My body is aware, too. I hope he doesn’t notice that my nipples are painfully erect. I already have to deal with the ache between my legs that becomes harder and harder to ignore the closer he gets.
I can’t even look at him. I’m a grown woman and he’s making me feel like a lovestruck teenager. But I know it’s lust, not love, and I am nowhere near a teenager.
I become more and more turned on as he inches closer. Then the door opens, and he whispers in my ear as we wait to exit, “Dinner, your place tonight, Annie.”
It’s not a loud demand, but a command with its own secret demand—his body to mine—and mine demands to agree.
I nod, confirming before I walk out the elevator door.
***
The day is busier than it has been since I began working at Detroit General Hospital Emergency Room. For that, I am thankful.
~Jonathon~
When Annie leaves the elevator, I wait in the lobby and watch as she walks out the door, realizing there is no damn way I can go to work in my present state.
Hard.
Therefore, I take the stairs back up to the ninth floor, hoping that it will do something to calm me.
It doesn’t.
I walk into my apartment and look around. Even it reminds me of her since all of the apartments are the same. Most are temporary homes; few people stay here. If I didn’t own the place, if I had the luxury of starting over, I sure as fuck wouldn’t live here. But I will be damned if I leave. These people depend on me. I keep rent low and the place is the most secure in the area.
I tried once to change up the scenery. I painted and bought new furniture. I work hard, so I deserve a few luxuries.
My walls are gray, curtains black, and there is sparse furniture. I don’t have company, so there is no need for an exuberant amount of stuff. My living room holds a black leather sofa that has never been sat on, a recliner, and a television that takes up the entire wall and would be the envy of every man in America. Years ago, I would spend Sundays watching football. Now, I don’t bother.
The pictures on my walls are of the people I love. They … live too far away, and I miss them. But today I miss them a little less, knowing it’s because I am having Annie for dinner.
I laugh at myself, realizing I thought of her as dinner and not dinner with her. I’m also relieved, because attachment is not a luxury I can afford. Too many people depend on me. This place is my focus.
The only fucking reason I am allowing my desire to win over reason is because I know she’s leaving. And she agreed, because her lust for me is as deep as mine for her. It’s a win-win.
Comfort level aside, I will grab a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. I know what women like. I don’t want her to think I don’t, or that she’s not worth the gesture. She showed me last night she certainly is, and demanded nothing in return.
***
She opens the door wearing a black dress, with just a thin belt tied around the waist. I picture how easily it would come off, knowing that is her intention.
“Good evening, Annie.” I smile, and she returns the sentiment.
She steps back and turns around. “Dinner is already on the table.”
We eat the spaghetti and meat sauce she prepared, my first homemade meal in months. We speak few words; our eyes and body language communicating a lot more than words.
After dinner, she gets up and walks to the couch.
“Dinner was absolutely amazing. Shall I clear the table?” I ask as I stand and set my napkin on my empty plate.
I’m sure it was good, but I was so fucking distracted by watching her eat—sucking, chewing, licking her lips, that I really don’t remember. And taste, all I could do was think about tasting her while I should have been eating our meal.
“No, come sit.”
I sit on her brown couch and look up at her where she is still standing.
“Have a seat, Annie.” I pat my lap.
She straddles me, just like I want, and I untie her belt, just like I knew she wanted. I let it fall open and groan as I look at her perfect handful of what is the beginning of my dessert.
“You’re a stunning woman.”
Something changes inside me the moment she smiles and blushes at my words.
The heaviness of my life lif
ts away. As I inhale her scent, I feel like I can breathe with Annie. I don’t know the last time I felt this way.
Chapter Four
~Annie~
My eyes flutter open as my alarm goes off, reminding me it’s time to get up and face reality.
With my body deliciously sore and the knowledge that I have three taps of the snooze button before I have to actually get up and get ready without being late, I hit it, roll over, close my eyes, and replay last night in my head.
After Jonathon and I ate dinner, we made love.
It was the type of love you make and know that you are forever changed.
He watched my every reaction, his rough hands caressed my body as his impressive length impaled me. Only, it wasn’t like I was being impaled, fucked, used, simply seeking a release. It was a lifelong connection. One a person seeks, needs, desires their entire life.
From childhood, it’s family. When you’re school age, it’s your very best friend. As young adults, it’s that first crush or, as we call it, first love.
It’s the type of connection that is revered, cherished, sought after and found throughout so many steps in one’s span of a lifetime, yet too quickly becomes a part of a past we look fondly on in times of reflection or times like this when one is surrounded by something more beautiful than they ever dared dream could be part of their reality.
The fairy tale, the connection, the fall, the acceptance, that only in books comes so easily. It’s not fiction, not now as I feel his breath against my skin and smell his manly earthy scent.
The moment we came together for the first time, I felt the presence of all those I have loved, and have loved me all meld into one. In his arms, I felt invincible, whole, treasured, and safer than I have my entire life.
He fell asleep, his arms wrapped around me tightly, and I wanted nothing more than that. But the ache of knowing it will come to an end when I leave to go back to California courses through me. The thought of that moment becoming a memory was unfathomable.
I took a deep breath of what was real and beside me, him. Then I exhaled the painful thought of what was near.
In my heart of hearts, I live with not a single doubt that this man, this strong beautiful, man, will be one of those memories I will cherish until age has erased my memory or time has ended.
I believe it. I believe Jonathon has marked me on the deepest level, and I will carry him with me forever. I do need to be honest, though, and tell him I’m leaving soon. It’s not fair to him to think we are building something when my time here will come to an end and I will have to leave.
~Jonathon~
“Have dinner with me tonight,” I say, attempting to hide my feelings from her. After all, I’m not supposed to have them.
Fuck what am I doing?
On her nod, we head out to the small sushi bar across the road. I would have taken her anywhere, but anywhere would mean wasting time in a car, which means less time in bed.
Annie tells me she is leaving in a few weeks. I don’t tell her I already know this. It isn’t because I am hiding anything; it simply feels like it is a distant memory or a story, and not the reality of how easy and right things are with us.
I am disappointed, but a woman like her shouldn’t be stuck in this shithole for any lengthy amount of time. I don’t even want to be here, but I have responsibilities, a business to run.
She tells me about her work, and then she starts asking me about the women in my past. I’m not about to give away my whole life story, but she sure as fuck holds nothing back. And now there are four men in the world who I want tear apart with my bare hands. However, I hold the jealousy inside at bay.
Then she tells me about her husband and how he died in her arms, that she barely recognized him when he was brought into the emergency room where she worked. The paramedics had cut his clothing off, and his body was swollen and bloody.
As they began to cut off his wedding ring, she realized it was him.
She holds it together while telling me her story, almost like it’s rehearsed. I assume dealing with tragedy everyday would harden you a bit. The only sign she’s not stone is the grip she has on my hand, like she’s afraid to let go.
“I’m sorry,” she says when she realizes. “Did I hurt you?”
I don’t release her hand. I hold it, and she stares down at it for several minutes, smiling sadly.
When we walk back to the apartment building, she tells me she has to go in to work early. I know that may be true, but I also know that after what she has just shared, she needs to allow her emotions to take hold of her, to let herself feel them. It has clearly been a long time since she released any of this or faced it. I know how that can affect a person. I want to comfort her, yet not push.
When we step out of the elevator, I turn her to look at me. “I know you need to be alone, but you’re not alone. So, when you are in need of a friendly face, I’m here.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my spare key. “While you’re here, Annie, you come to me with whatever you need, anything.”
She stares down at the key. “I’m leaving in—”
“I know, but while you’re here, anything, Annie, anything.”
***
I wake up to find her standing over my bed, her eyes telling two stories, one of sadness and one of desire.
As I sit up, I notice what she’s wearing. A bathrobe, and nothing else.
She needs me.
Her tits are right there within arm’s reach, and suddenly, I want to taste them.
I sit up and push the robe from her left shoulder, then the right. Her nipples are hard little nubs, and my mouth aches to suck on them, tug on them, taste them. Nothing has ever tasted better.
I throw the blanket off me then pull her down so she is lying on top of me.
I have to give her lips a taste first. God, how I love them. Then I am all about those tits. Perfect fucking tits.
The noises she makes has my balls tighten to a point that is almost painful. But I don’t give a damn. I suck on her nipples. I suck on one, then the other, until they are more red than before, harder than before, and slick with my saliva.
I reach under her arms and pull her up, kissing every inch of her while I position her to straddle me. Then I look at her pussy. It’s swollen, damp, and I can smell her.
Ignoring my cock’s needs, I pull her up until my face is inches from her cunt. I inhale then look up at her.
“Sit on me,” I order, and she follows. I want to eat her pussy until my face is coated with her.
And I do.
And it is.
Then I fuck her. I fuck her hard, fast, and then slow because I don’t want to come yet. It feels too good inside of her.
I fuck her missionary. I fuck her from behind. I fuck her until I don’t think either of us will walk straight tomorrow, and I hope I’m right.
Her pussy is hot, wet, and tight around my cock, so I fuck her more.
When I can’t take it anymore, I pull out and throw off the condom. She strokes my cock until we both watch my come shoot out onto her flat, little belly.
When we are done, she wants to stay, and I sure as fuck don’t want her to go.
“I’ve never been with anyone like you,” she whispers into the darkness. “Never felt so … good. I’ll never forget you, Jonathon.”
I pull her against me as tightly as I can, promising myself that there is no way in hell I will allow her to forget me. I’m going to fuck her everywhere. When she looks at a brick, she will know I fucked her against a brick wall. When she sees a sink, she will think of me and when I fucked her leaning over one. When she’s in the shower, she will remember fucking me. I will fuck her in a house, on a car, in the water, on the grass, and if I can fuck her in the sky, I sure as fuck would, so when she looked up, she remembered how good my dick felt inside her pussy. She will remember every goddamn way I made her feel.
Chapter Five
~Annie~
My lease is almost done. But Jonathon and I
seem to be far from over.
Every night, I fall asleep in his arms, feeling safe and sated, the pull between us continuing to grow stronger.
This whirlwind we built was on a foundation of lust. But each moment together, it changes. I see Jonathon, and my pulse quickens. My skin tingles, and I feel alive like I never have before. In this time we have had together, everything I have so carefully protected feels so exposed.
Sex is just sex. A mutual release … until it’s something more.
Jonathon and I haven’t discussed the future. I don’t think we should. I want to be here in the moment with him. As hard as goodbye will be, I want to enjoy every second.
I lick my lips, thinking about seeing him again. It’s mid-day. I’m working a night shift tonight. I’m going to miss him terribly.
Bravely, I do something I have never done before. Picking up my phone, I text him to stop by for a lunchtime snack.
I have never been this bold with any man before, but Jonathon does things to me. Just thinking about it has me burning inside with a fire, and my panties soak in my desire.
He doesn’t reply, and I try to push down my body’s needs and remember he is a busy man. Only recently did I discover that he isn’t just a tenant here. He owns the place, which answers the unasked question I had in the elevator about how they all knew his name.
Ten minutes pass, and with each passing moment, I begin stripping more of my clothes. I have now stripped myself down to a simple pair of lace pink panties and bra, needing a release in order to function tonight. It’s the ridiculous truth, but my body is used to our evenings now.
The feel of fabric against my pert nipples is too much as my cravings only grow stronger.
Going to the fridge, I pull an ice cube from its tray. Putting the cube in my mouth, I allow it to start the melting process before I take it out and trace my lips with it. Then I trail the frozen cube along my neck, my whole body shivering from the touch. Sliding the melting piece down, I then trace my collarbone before I circle it around my nipple ever so slowly, around and around, starting at the edge and working my way closer and closer to the tip.
