Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play

by Sydney Jamesson

  “Mmm… and so you are.” I smile into his chest and rub my hand up and down the hardening shaft.

  He gives me back my hand. “I’m sorry I woke you. Let me give you something to help you sleep. Open your legs.” I take his left hand and place it between my legs.

  “You feel so moist.”

  I roll onto my back, allowing him to feel his way along soft flesh before sliding into me. His breathing hitches and so does mine.

  “You’re warm.” He moves his fingers in and out to a rhythm that I synchronise with my rocking hips. He bends his fingers ever so slightly and finds that sensitive spot inside me: it feels divine.

  “For someone who claims to have little experience of pleasuring women, you’re a very fast learner.” I state breathless and needy.

  “Long flight. Lots of research.”

  “Thank God for the Internet.” Is my only response, even though I don’t believe a word of it.

  “Besides, you’re a very responsive woman. Your body speaks to me.”

  I bet it does!

  “And what is it saying to you now?” I pant.

  He nestles his mouth against my left ear. “It’s saying make me come Ayden.” He’s not wrong.

  “Oh really?” I gasp and feel him slow slightly.

  “I’m going to miss this. Just the thought of it will have me reaching for my cock.”

  Is he purposely talking dirty, because his words are bringing me closer and closer to my climax.

  “Why don’t you come with me to Hong Kong? We’ll see the sights, take a cruise, sip cocktails at the Ritz Carlton and watch the sun go down. What do you say?”

  The prospect of all that and the fact I’m a couple of strokes away from an orgasm make it almost impossible to say no, but I have to. My voice is hoarse and there’s no way of concealing my arousal. “I can’t.”

  He intensifies his penetration.

  I’m starting to arch my back and groaning. “You shouldn’t mix business with pleasure or the lines will become … blurred.” I just about get the words out.

  “Oh I’m way passed that.” The palm of his right hand begins to skim my stomach, and I know what he’s doing; he’s using both hands to pleasure me. In the darkness, his face is just an outline; strong jaw, cheek bones carved out of marble, fierce eyes. A a vision of masculine beauty.

  “I want you to tell me something Beth.”

  “Anything, just let me come.”

  “Not yet, tell me what you want, what I can give you. No holds barred, anything money can buy, whatever you’ve dreamed of. Tell me.”

  “Only you Ayden. Let me come.” I’m so close.

  “No, you already have me. What can I give you?”

  In my rapturous state, I begin to speak but hold back, focusing on my approaching orgasm. I reach out to his face and try to pull his mouth to mine, but he will have none of it.

  “Tell me.”

  “A … a…”

  “Yes…”

  “A …” My insides explode and I lurch into his hands. “A … baby.” I come with such force, it leaves me trembling and gasping.

  He’s pulling out of me but still staring into my face: he is open mouthed and clearly shocked. “Did you say what I think you said?”

  Dry mouthed I answer, “Yes, that’s the only thing I want from you, after yourself. I want you to be the father of my children.”

  He falls onto his back, hands in his hair, gazing up at the ceiling. “I can’t do that Beth.”

  After several minutes of post orgasmic contemplation, I turn on my side to face him, “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both.”

  “Can’t because of sperm count or won’t because ...”

  He’s shaking his head from side to side. “I’m not father material Beth, believe me.”

  I rest my right hand on his heart. “Don’t say that. You would be a wonderful father, any child would be so lucky to have you.”

  “You’re right about so many things Beth, but you’re wrong about this. Like I said last night, I’m not that guy.” He can barely look at me and it’s painful to see him despairing over a single word.

  I feel muscles settling beneath my navel; somewhere inside there’s a part of me breaking into tiny little pieces. “You are that guy Ayden, you just don’t know it yet. I’m not talking about tomorrow, next week or next year: just one day, that’s all.”

  I fall back onto the mattress. What possessed me to scare him like that?

  He rolls over, propping his head on his right palm. “Why is it you always find my Achilles heel? You push me to my limit with everything.”

  What a revealing thing to say.

  My hand finds its way to his face. “Because I see you for the man you are and your potential for being so much more. You put it so beautifully yesterday.” I blink away a tear. “We’re not perfect, but we’re perfect for each other. Is it so wrong to want a new life to come out of that perfection - the best of both of us?”

  In an impulsive act of raw passion, he moulds his lips to mine and kisses me deeply, his tongue is licking and tasting me in a kind of frenzied eruption of pent up emotion: where is this coming from?

  “I don’t think I could bear to share you, knowing someone else was inside you.”

  I try to speak, “But ... it would be you, for nine whole months Ayden.”

  It’s as if a light goes on somewhere in his fevered brain. He seems a little less fraught and slightly more sedate.

  “Anyway, that’s what you get for asking me what I want, ten seconds away from an orgasm. Ask me what I want tomorrow when my feet are on the ground, and you might get a more favourable answer.”

  “I will.” The sparkle returns to his eyes and I see the outline of a genial smile.

  I pull his head into my neck and cuddle him like a small child needing my undivided attention and he responds, throwing his left leg over me until we are squashed together like two peas in a pod.

  I stroke his hair softly. “Go to sleep, baby.”

  I feel his smile on my neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you more.”

  I concentrate on slowing my breathing and turn my head away from him, feeling salt water building in my eyes, bubbling over onto the pillow in a silent trickle. Even with my feet firmly on the ground, chances are, I would say exactly the same thing: a baby is all I want, after him, naturally.

  Having tested his BMW’s capacity for speed and endurance, Dan is about to give the chasse a road test; with time on his hands before his date with destiny, he’s clearing away the numerous piles of newspapers and magazines he has accumulated over the years, in his hunt for Beth Parker. He’s flinging pile upon pile of yellowing paper onto the back seats, having already filled the boot to capacity. The aging car looks as if it’s been parked on an incline.

  No-one pays him any attention, he’s a solitary figure in the darkness clearing his shit, maybe he’s moving out. Who know? Who cares? It’s Friday night, everyone else has something better to do.

  When he returns to his apartment, it appears to have undergone a change for the better; he has room to move around, to cross from one side to the other without stumbling over yesterday’s news. Best of all, he can stroll over to his cork noticeboard and speak with his girl unhampered by stray inserts and junk mail. It’s just the two of them, and he plans to keep it that way.

  “I visited your apartment tonight princess and enjoyed every minute of it. You weren’t there but soon we’ll be spending a lot of quality time together. You’ll see.”

  He pulls out a cigarette and lights it leisurely, exhaling the smoke and watching it linger over her already fading image. With his free hand, he traces the outline of his erection through his jeans. “I hope Stone is treating you right, ‘cause if he isn’t, he’ll have me to answer to. Fairs, fair, can’t expect him to keep his hands off a pretty little thing like you.” He pulls a speck of tobacco from his tongue. “I expect he’s broken you in good and proper, got you used to feeling
something hard inside you.” He’s laughing and smoking at the same time, like a man intoxicated by his own grotesque fantasies. “We both remember how that feels, don’t we princess?” His hand never leaves his crutch, his eyes flicker from picture to picture. “Not long now …”

  18

  For some reason I wake, needing to visit the bathroom but take the opportunity to observe Ayden while he sleeps peacefully beside me. That’s surprising considering my revelation. Never has a man looked more captivating. I watch his finely honed chest rise and fall, the air leaves his mouth in whisper soft breaths and the skin around his eyelashes ripples slightly as he dreams. The pouting precision of his lips draws my eye; as if carved out of stone, his top lip forms that flawless V. I touch my mouth, remembering the taste of perfection.

  His left hand rests on the pillow by his head, powerful but soft to the touch; the thick band of platinum on his middle finger, tempting me to weave my own between his to reaffirm our connection. How could he be so adamant about his lack of parenting skills after everything he has done for me: he has such a good heart.

  I edge silently into the bathroom and relieve myself. Shrugging on my bathrobe, I leave and tiptoe out onto the terrace. The sun rises at 7.40 and I want to catch it as it welcomes a new day, a day that promises to be even better than yesterday, if that’s possible.

  The tea-lights have long since died but their fragrance lingers; the scent of jasmine pervades the open space and evokes memories of the night before: great food, great conversation and the greatest lover. What did I do to deserve all this?

  The watery heat from the sun filters through the clouds, chasing away cool night air, casting a hazy film over the landscape: it’s beautiful. From nowhere Ayden appears behind me, dressed in his bathrobe.

  “Hey, what are you doing out here, you’ll catch cold.” He opens up his bathrobe and wraps it around me, folding my back into his naked body. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

  “I woke up to go to the toilet but found myself out here watching the sun rise.”

  “Then we’ll watch it together.”

  He kisses my neck and I lean back into him, my head resting just under his chin. There we stand cocooned in fluffy white robes, silently watching the shadows form on the tiled rooftops.

  “This whole trip has been like a dream Ayden, you’ve made it very special. Thank you.” I take hold of his fists either side of my collar bone where he grips onto his bathrobe. “I’ve downloaded the photographs, you should take a look.”

  “I intend to, there are a couple I’m especially looking forward to seeing.”

  I smile, recalling the one of me standing half naked in the bedroom and any one of a hundred or more he has taken of me. But, I’m haunted by a single sentence, ‘untie me Beth.’

  “You’d tell me if you felt uncomfortable about anything I’ve done, wouldn’t you?” I ask.

  “You’d be the first to know.” As if he is reading my thoughts he continues. “Last night, the submission thing, it started out as fun but giving up control, that wasn’t easy for me. You were right though, I needed to say the words out loud; accepting that we are bound to each other makes things easier.” He kisses my hair. “You’ve taught me that letting go isn’t a sign of weakness: it’s all about trust, and that’s the foundation of our love. It’s taken me longer than you to figure it out. I get it now.”

  “Good, I don’t want you to feel the way you did in L.A. so … vulnerable.” I pull his hand to my mouth. “It’s the intimacy of it all that makes it so special, we don’t have to give it a name. I’ll always try to give you what you need to keep you strong, you know that?” I plant a soft kiss on his knuckles. “For all my games, I’m yours whichever way.” I lean onto his warm hand and feel the heat of it on my cheek.

  Gentle laughter rumbles through his chest and vibrates through my spine. “Baby, I was all yours last night.” He whispers into my ear. “I would give the whole fucking lot up for you. You know that, right?”

  “I do now.”

  “So, don’t worry. I’m good.” I feel his warm breath on my hair before his lips nibble my ear. “Anyway, all that’s water under the bridge.” He tightens his grip around me.

  “I’m glad, being with you has made me realise just how lonely I was. I wasn’t living. I was existing, getting through each day just waiting, waiting for you to find me.”

  “Thank you for waiting.”

  I start to laugh quietly.

  “What’s funny?”

  “You thanking me, shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  “That’s where you’ve got it all wrong Beth. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was opening so many doors only to find they were leading me nowhere, when all the time I was searching for you. If you hadn’t waited for me, then I would have spent my life never experiencing this.” He nuzzles into my hair and breaths in my perfume. “And what a fucking tragedy that would have been.”

  I smile with a devious thought. “Good metaphor. How many doors did you open exactly?”

  “Behave!” He grins.

  That’s as much as he is willing to say on the matter, and I let it drop. I turn around to face him, his firm body radiating heat and desire, his eyes ardent and captivating. “I didn’t mean to frighten you with the baby thing, but you made me confess. Under normal circumstances I would keep thoughts like that to myself.”

  I witness the beginnings of a sexy grin. “You were under ... duress.”

  “I was under you, or maybe that’s the same thing?” I mirror his salacious smile and feel my mouth twitching as a result.

  “There’s an idea …” Through my towelling robe I feel a frisky penis greeting the new day. “Now look what you’ve done.”

  He arches himself into me and I tip back my head in search of his lips. I can’t conceive of a day when I will stop wanting this man. Even in the dimmest of light, his eyes enchant me: I can’t pull away. I’ll never pull away.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “I’m yours,” he confesses.

  He releases my body; his arms rest by his side and the front of his robe remains open. He’s standing there, exposed. “We’d better go inside. It’s too cold out here for me.”

  Instinctively, we both look down, to check for adverse effects. From where I’m standing his impressive erection looks impervious to the drop in temperature. I start to giggle and wrap his robe around him. The last thing I want is to affect his performance capability.

  “That’s my second favourite sound,” he smirks. We can both guess his number one. He takes my hand and leads me inside. “Come, I need to make love to you.”

  ***

  Our sumptuous bedroom is still in partial darkness; a small gap in the damask curtains provides just enough light to make out features but touch and taste are the primary senses being used for exploration. There’s no denying his amorous intentions as I’m steadily reversed backward towards the bed, but there’s something eating at my conscience: my confession. I have to tell him the truth about me, even though I know by doing so I’m risking everything.

  “Ayden.” I take hold of his face and hold him a couple of inches from mine, my neck still tingling from his moist caresses but, for me to say what I must, I will need all my faculties. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

  He tries to remove my hands and inches in to continue devouring my supple flesh.

  “No, I mean it. Listen. What would it take for you to stop loving me, to stop wanting me like this?”

  He looks squarely at me, unable to comprehend my words. “Are you serious?”

  I wish I wasn’t but I am, totally. “Yes.”

  “You ask me that now?”

  “Yes.” My earnest expression settles him.

  “Well, I don’t know.” He blows out a stream of hot hair. “If you were unfaithful, which you’re not. If you tried to interfere with my business, which you’re not. What else is there?” He’s at a loss.

  “What if there was some
thing in my past which was really bad and you found out. Would you still love me then?” I try to avoid being overly dramatic, but I’m failing miserably.

  “Yes, I would still love you then.” He tips his head to the right and begins making light of my conversation. “Why, what did you do? Rob a bank, cheat in an exam?” He laughs to himself and stops dead. “There is one other thing ...”

  I nod yes, rapt.

  “I suppose if you were a guy and you’d had a sex change, I might find that a little ... disconcerting.”

  “Oh, Ayden, it’s nothing like that.” I’m trying to be serious and all he can do is attach himself to my right earlobe. I push him away and rest my palms against his chest like a mime artist traversing a sheet of glass.

  “Ok. What’s got you so spooked?”

  Now I have his undivided attention the room starts to fold in on me, becoming a little claustrophobic: warm skin, intense scrutiny, heart beats. I feel cornered. I begin: “Remember when I told you about being attacked at university, I didn’t explain fully what happened and ...”

  “… You don’t have to.”

  “Yes I do,” I say, my voice rasping with grit and determination. I pull the cord tighter on my bathrobe, drawing it in and around my body. I prefer to wear it this way, like an invisibility cloak; something to hide behind.

  He touches my troubled face and urges me to continue, sitting me beside him on the bed, his arm around my shoulder. He waits.

  “This isn’t easy for me Ayden, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, for you to be under any illusions about me. I’ve been afraid to tell you because I feared it would change the way you feel about me.”

  He’s shaking his head. “Nothing you say could do that, Beth.” He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand, not daring to actually caress it, offering only reassurance.

  “Ok, then I’ll give you the full story, instead of the edited highlights.” I try to make light of it but, it’s my nerves, they’re jangling and making me say the silliest things; anything to fill the frigid air that is beginning to envelope me.