Then, I remembered. It all suddenly became obvious: the anticipation of a first kiss; that skin-tingling feeling whenever someone got close enough to smell their body soap radiating from their skin; wondering if I looked at him the way he looked at me, and whether or not it was interpreted the way I wanted. The way I needed.
“Ms. Cole? Can you come up here?” he shouted from upstairs. I nodded without saying a word and slowly made my way up the steps.
I knew why he was calling me; I didn’t have to guess. And although it had been years since I had been truly intimate with anyone, I hadn’t forgotten. These things, these signs—everything we’d said to each other for the past few weeks, the subtle gestures, the way two people act when they’re nervous around each other: raking our hands through our hair, shifting the weight under our feet and trying to come up with more to say so the other person wouldn’t leave, giggling, avoiding eye contact, and the burning—all of it.
And he was just down the hall, waiting for me.
I could see him standing in the center of the room through the small opening, and I stood, waiting to push the door open. “Anything wrong?” I stuttered, keeping my head down and fidgeting with the hem of my sweater.
With his arms folded across his chest, his head snapped up at the sound of my voice, and he smirked when he saw my hesitation through the crack in the door. I gave the doorknob a nudge as I remained on the threshold, and he studied me. I stole a quick glance at him and his entire body softened. He was waiting for me to say it. But at that moment, I think I was probably more scared than he was.
“Can we just be…honest for a second? You know, no games?”
I sighed and nodded, feeling the moisture pool between my thighs. This is really happening. My heart began to pound inside my chest and when I swallowed, it echoed in my ears. All of my senses seemed to heighten as I stared at this beautiful young man before me.
These past weeks in landscaping had done their work: his shoulders were defined and his arms bulged from working manual labor, a small vein poking out of the center. The white T-shirt clung to his torso, defining his abdomen, and his jeans rested low on his hips, fraying at the hole in his knee and toward the ankle where the rest of the material gathered. His jaw was more defined, and his stubbled facial hair was darker. He hadn’t gotten his hair cut, and a few stray strands were now falling to his eyes, making him sweep it away more often than before. But even after noticing all of these things about him, I still couldn’t keep my eyes away from his lips—perfectly swollen, perfectly round, and soon-to-be perfectly mine.
He took a few small steps toward me, never breaking eye contact. After wiping his hair from his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow and he shoved his hands into his pockets.
I shook my head and gave a small smile, closing the distance between us. After pulling one hand back out of his pocket, I whispered, “No games.”
He stared at our hands and I heard him exhale. And without notice, his arms were around me and his lips were on mine.
Oh, god. I’d imagined those lips. These forbidden, beautiful lips on mine for far too long. And no matter how far my imagination could’ve gone with it, I would’ve never been able to dream how perfectly they fit together. Slowly, he parted my mouth with his. And though his tongue was hesitant, his hands told me otherwise. He was already unbuttoning my jeans.
We fumbled, making our way to my desk. His hands curved around my backside and my legs spread, allowing him to lift me on top of the table. Eagerly, I went for the fly of his jeans, and I could already see his erection tightening the denim. I wrapped my hands around his ass, feeling the taut muscles underneath his boxers, and slid his jeans down to his knees.
“Lay down.” He spoke gently, taking me by surprise. Calming my nerves, I tried to ease myself down from the edge of my excitement by taking a deep breath and doing as he instructed. I lay back, letting my jeans and panties fall from my ankles completely, and instinctively covered myself with my hands.
“No. I want to see you,” he said while moving my hands to my sides. He stared at my face for several seconds before his eyes wandered downward to my chest. With his chest hovering above mine, he then slowly removed each button from its hole of my sweater, drinking in every moment of sexual tension.
My belly tingled low, and I could feel my pulse in my neck. His scent wafted through the room as if it had been there hundreds of times before and felt at home here. With mine.
I could feel his heavy breath on my stomach the second he opened my sweater, and after removing my bra carefully, the feel of his tongue between my breasts had my insides quivering for him to be inside me.
“I want you,” I begged, sitting up and cradling his face in my hands. “Please.”
A quiet laugh escaped him as he entwined his fingers with mine, removing my hands from his cheeks. “Christine.” He smiled. “You and I both know that this is going to be over pretty quickly the second I’m inside you.”
I swallowed. The thought alone awakened a primal need inside me, making my breath stutter, catching in the back of my throat. He brought the back of my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “I might’ve stood a chance of five minutes with anyone else, but with you we’ll be lucky if we get two,” he whispered, kissing my fingers. “Come on. Let’s go to the bedroom.” He smiled and nudged his head toward the hall.
~*~*~*~
“Are you ready?” I whispered.
Standing naked next to the bed, his breathing slowed and his deep brown eyes bored into mine. He slowly blinked once, and after an audible swallow, he nodded. “I just want you to know something,” he murmured, crawling between my thighs. Grazing his knuckles over my pink nipples, he whispered something into my neck, sending another wave of shivers down my arms.
“What did you say?” I asked breathlessly, feeling his erection swell against my clit.
He aligned his face with mine, giving me the look of a frightened boy. Putting his arms on either side of my head, his maturing muscles caressing my cheeks, he whispered again, “This really is my first time. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
I nodded and positioned myself directly under him. The tip of his cock pressed against my entrance and I gasped at how sensitive I was already. The aching and selfish need for this young man was overwhelming, and I knew the guilt of being with a boy barely out of high school would thrash against my conscience forever.
But I had to have him.
His finger traced along my curves, from my breast to my hip, but he never took his eyes off mine.
“I know,” I said.
I gently held his shaft and a soft moan could be heard from the back of his throat. Then I submerged his tip inside of me and pulled it back out, spreading my wetness over both of us.
“Are you ready, then?”
He nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Good,” I replied, and thrust him inside me.
“Wait. I want you to come first,” he replied quickly and withdrew.
I threw my head back in agony—in escape; in ecstasy—as his head slid down to my navel. His tongue darted out briefly as he descended downward. With one finger, he swept lightly across my clit, and I shuddered with a moan. I idly wondered if he was just stalling.
His eyelids were heavy, but the moonlight shining through the window was enough to see that he was eagerly enjoying the task. And after licking his lips and a devilish smirk, his tongue went straight down to my skin, causing a gasp to tickle the back of my throat. My nipples hardened instantly, and I couldn’t pull my fingers away from them as he continued his sensual tease below. His tongue, now buried inside me, begged me to come as his fingers massaged my rosy flesh.
I let my inhibitions go, his fingers working magic over me. He switched, swirling gently with his tongue over my clit, coupled with the pressure of his fingertips just inside me aroused my deepest desires for him. Looking down, I watched him. He was enjoying every second of this, his erection bobbing with the force o
f every moan. He’d remove one hand from me momentarily to stroke himself, making sure that the second I came, he’d be ready to bury himself inside me. Then returned his fingers to me, showing me just how well he already knew my body. Pausing, he blew lightly over my clitoris, sending my senses in overdrive.
Groaning, I clutched my thighs around the sides of his face as he moaned his longing. “Come for me, Christine,” he growled. And the vibration of his voice against me awakened my siren inside.
“Yes,” I clenched around his fingers and lifted my hips closer to his head. “Harder,” I said.
His hands moved forcefully, responding to my request. My fingers rolled over my nipples, tugging them taut. “Joel. Oh, god.” He continued quickly, burying his knuckles until the back of his hand was slapping against my clit. “Yes!” I shouted. “Don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“Say it again,” he whispered, slowing his pace.
“What? Oh, Joel! Please, faster, harder!”
He smiled when I shouted his name and quickened his pace. In waves, it struck me over and over like rumbling thunder, reliving the same sensation crashing over me, tumbling through my body in waves. The orgasm started in my belly and fluttered upward to my nipples. The more I came, the stronger the sensation built. I crumbled around him, resting my hips back down to the mattress.
I didn’t allow myself to breathe before I pulled him on top of me.
“Now. Please. I need you,” I repeated twice, cradling his jaw upward so he could see my plea.
He lay on top of me, and I stretched my thighs farther apart. He rubbed his cock over my slickness and consumed my mouth with his, needing every drop of seduction before the night ended.
Fumbling a bit, he slid his hand around his shaft, holding it in place while I aligned our hips. We giggled, feeling like two kids losing their virginities together.
The nervousness.
The need.
The clumsiness.
The eagerness.
The heat. Oh, god. The fucking heat.
He pressed his warmth into me, stretching me to fit around his thickness.
“Jesus,” he panted, keeping his body perfectly still and his face nuzzled into my neck, his warm breath jagged and uneven. I could feel his heart pounding against my breasts as his hair tickled my nose. “You’re so warm, Christine.”
I rocked my hips toward him, my hands pushing against his ass to feel him deeper inside of me.
His glossy eyes met mine, and he rubbed his thumb across my hairline, down to my ear. Breathing steadily now, he nudged our noses together briefly before he took his first thrust forward. “Slow. I want you slow.”
With one hand propped behind my shoulder and the other at my side, he slowly slipped outside of me, and back in again.
The sweetest torture. Easing in and out again, stopping every few thrusts to nibble on my breasts or lick the tender flesh between them.
He sniffed, and I lifted his face to mine. “You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m okay,” he whispered, not ashamed of letting a tear drop from his eye.
“If you’re not—” I began.
“No. Believe me, I am. This is just all a little unreal,” he smiled, taking another thrust forward. I threw my head back, allowing my breasts to rub against his chest. “I’ve saved myself for you,” he added, and my head snapped back to his.
Taking slow, deliberate thrusts forward, he kept his eyes pinned to mine.
“Shit, I’m gonna come, Christine.”
I nodded and kept my eyes fixed on his. He pounded forward again and again, until I could see the strain on his face. With his eyes shut tightly, his croaked his exhale. He was coming apart.
“Jesus!” he cried, taking several violent thrusts forward, until every last drop had been shot out. “Holy shit.”
He rolled off me and tucked his arm under my neck. I curled toward him and rested my cheek on his torso. I watched his chest rise and waited for him to steady his breathing.
“You okay?” I asked.
He looked down to me, cupping my cheek in his hand. Sitting up, he took my face and locked our lips together. “I’m more than okay. This was everything I’ve ever wanted.”
I smiled, hoping to keep my conscience away. And there was no little voice in my head telling me what I’d just done was wrong. I’d just spent an evening with a man that needed me, and I needed him. Perhaps even in the same way. But it wasn’t ugly, and I didn’t feel guilty about it. I’d hoped that those thoughts would never creep up about this night, because what we’d just experienced was, in fact, a beautiful thing. It may have just been sex, but it was something that was going to help both of us move forward. For the first time in years, I didn’t question my own motives. I didn’t care what Darcy would think, or who would judge me.
And it was freeing.
“So what now?” I asked, shifting my weight off him.
He grabbed my hip and rolled me back onto his side. “Give me eight minutes.” He winked. “I’ll be ready to go again.” Easing me back to the mattress, he took my lips onto his with laughter.
Chapter Twelve
Yawning, I walked Joel to my door in the morning. I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips. “Go, get some sleep. You have a big speech to give tonight.”
“I don’t want this to be awkward. But I wanted to just say, that…last night was perfect.” He raked his hand through his hair. “You, were perfect. And you’re so fucking beautiful, that I…” he stumbled, unable to finish his sentence.
I laughed. “You were perfect, too, Joel.” My laughter softened to a warm smile. “Kiss me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Snaking his arm around me, he pulled me close. He nudged our noses together before taking my top lip into his. “Maybe…” he whispered between kisses. “I…could…stay,” he continued, pulling the cord on my robe, exposing my breasts.
I giggled as his hands roamed over me, and he playfully nipped at my breasts with his mouth.
“Go! And don’t forget your tools.” I laughed, giving him another swift kiss and scooting him out the door.
“Bye, Christine. I’ll be looking for you in the audience tonight.”
“Knock ‘em dead, Joel.”
He turned and walked to his car. I looked around the neighborhood, thankful it was still early enough on a Saturday where no one was out and about yet.
And as he pulled out of my driveway, he gave one last nod and his mouth quirked into a smile.
~*~*~*~
“You’re in a chipper mood,” Darcy snapped, handing me bouquets of carnations. “These go back at the entry, on both sides of the aisle.”
The gymnasium was decorated in the school colors: black and red. The red velvet backdrop hung from the ceiling, just behind the stage, and the main aisle had a red carpet splayed out. I had no idea black carnations existed, but since they did, Darcy was the one to find them. Banners, placards, and easels had to be set up, and Darcy and I spent the afternoon ensuring everything was perfect. A crew had set up all the folding chairs, and just as the first guests began to arrive, Darcy and I were putting the finishing touches on the ensemble.
“We’ll sit here.” Darcy pointed to two chairs near the center aisle, close to the stage.
“Sounds good.” I smiled, but couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she was in a worse mood than usual.
“Anything wrong? Are you upset I missed the meeting last ni—”
“No,” she snapped. “I need you to focus, Christine. This is the biggest night of the year.”
“What else is there left to do?”
“Nothing. Sit down and I’ll join you after I’ve taken one last walk-through.”
I nodded and sat in my chair.
The gym filled with expectant parents, relatives, and friends. The low chatter began to fill the room until everyone had to begin speaking louder to accommodate. Darcy joined me after ten minutes and didn’t say a word until the first seniors began approa
ching the podium.
One by one, their names were called. Each student lined up to receive their own personalized diploma, giving them the fuel they needed to continue their education, pursuing their passions, and living their lives.
We were instructed to refrain from clapping until the last person had left the stage. And it happened to be Joel Watson. As soon as he stepped down, everyone in the room hollered and cheered, proud of each and every kid there.
Once the crowd settled down, Joel stepped up to the podium with his piece of paper. His hands trembled lightly, and his nerves were visibly shaking him. He searched the crowd for my face, and began to panic a little when he didn’t spot me right away.
His eyes found mine, and I smiled. He sighed and nodded, and looked back down to his paper.
“Some say that we don’t have a clue who we are at this age. There are some who consider us naïve, ignorant, innocent...” He smiled, finding my face in the crowd again. But the panic that I’d seen earlier came back suddenly, and he stopped speaking. He swallowed, and I saw his hands begin to shake again.
“Isn’t it great?” Darcy whispered.
“Isn’t what great?” I asked, distracted. Why is he so nervous?
“Watching him up there. I’m just so proud.”
I looked to Darcy, confusion riddling my face. “Do you know him?”
“The Valedictorian? Of course I do.”
“How do you know him?” I asked. “One of your son’s friends?”
“No, silly. That is my son. That’s Joey.”
No.
I felt my stomach hit the floor. My cheeks flushed and I wanted to vomit. And that’s when I realized why Joel’s expression changed. He realized I was sitting next to his mother. Oh, god. His mother! I’m gonna be sick.
“I…” Stuttering, I choked out the words, “I thought his name was Watson.”
“He took his father’s last name. I went back to my maiden name after the divorce. But all his buddies call him Watson.”
I was so stupid. I felt disgusting. Like I’d taken an innocent child and ripped him from his mother, ripped him from losing his virginity to someone his own age, ripped him from his innocence. I took advantage of that poor boy and I didn’t think I’d ever forgive myself.
Forbidden Fruit Vol 2 Page 47
