by LL Meyer
Lily returns the smile as she pulls her sunglasses off. Sandy sticks her hand in the window to shake her hand. “I’m Sandy.”
“Hi, nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” Sandy says in wonder. “You know Paul said that he met you, and Jenna texted me yesterday, but I still didn’t believe it until this very moment.”
I scoff and barely refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Hello, Dane.” Her tone is loving and gentle like it always is, irking me to no end.
“Hi, Sandy.”
She turns her attention back to Lily.
“Paul told me that they call you Pretty Girl, and I can see why. You’re lovely.”
Poor Lily. Now she’s blushing, and I can tell she’d be happy to disappear into the seat.
Jason saves us both. He comes up behind Sandy and squeezes her shoulders. “You’re embarrassing her, Mom.”
“Nonsense. Why don’t you guys come in for a while?”
I keep my face plastered with a neutral expression, but I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather do less.
“Another time,” Jason says.
She looks so disappointed that I’m suddenly glad I’m not the one brushing her off.
“But I’m going to hold you to that this time.”
Jason kisses her forehead and then pulls the back door open. “I was just here on Friday night.”
“Arriving at midnight and leaving as soon as you wake up hardly counts, Jason.” She looks at Lily. “You’ll help me out, won’t you, Lily? A mother shouldn’t have to wait weeks and weeks to see her sons.”
Weeks and weeks? Has it been that long?
“Yeah, sure,” she says politely and Sandy’s answering smile is so enthusiastic that I worry she’ll start badgering her to get to us.
We say goodbye and pull away.
“Sorry about that,” I say with a grimace.
“She wasn’t bad at all,” Lily says with a smile. “Believe me, my mom would never have let you off that easy.”
“What?” I ask in alarm.
“Oh, she’ll give you the third degree till you’re ready to pull your hair out. Hopefully, you do better than Parker. She never liked him.”
“What? Who the hell is Parker?” I demand.
She raises her eyebrows. “My three-minute guy? But don’t worry, we’ll bring your baby pictures to distract her. You’re pretty cute.”
Jason starts laughing and the sound of it cracks her serious façade.
I close my eyes as a wave of aggravation crashes over me. “Woman, I am hungover. It’s in the rule book that you have to be nice to me.”
She scoffs. “Rule book? Please. I’m nowhere near as gullible as you are.”
Jason laughs harder and I shoot him a dirty look. “Fine,” I say. “But no more scaring me with your mother. That’s just cruel.”
“All right. But seriously, why don’t you guys visit the poor woman? She’s practically desperate for your attention.”
I squirm under her scrutiny, so she turns in her seat to Jason who shrugs. “I don’t know. It just always feels a bit like torture when we go.”
“Torture? Why? Does she criticize the length of your hair, or your choice of shoes, or maybe it’s how much makeup you wear?”
Pause.
“Oh, wait. That’s my mother.” She laughs at her own joke. “Please, she can’t be that bad. Are you sure you guys aren’t being selfish?”
I’m more than annoyed now. “What are you, a psychologist now?”
Before she has a chance to respond, Jason butts in. “She probably has a point, Dane. We should go more often.”
“Hey, we got her diamond earrings for Mother’s Day.”
“I’m sure,” Lily says gently, “that she’d prefer the little coupons everyone makes in kindergarten that say ‘free hugs.’”
All right, now I’m feeling uncomfortable, or maybe it’s guilty. But Sandy is not my mother, and that kind of shit is Jason’s responsibility. Thankfully, I have to concentrate on parallel parking the car.
Walking to the restaurant, I listen to the slap of three pairs of flip-flops, and I can’t believe how much things have changed. Last week she was wearing those wretched sandals to ward me off. Now she’s all mine.
It’s late and there’s no line, but of course Deena, the waitress, is here.
She comes out of the kitchen with her hands full of plates, and when she sees us on the patio her face brightens. As soon as she’s set the food down, she comes right over.
“Hi, honeys!” she says, but she only has eyes for Jason.
“Hey, Deena,” he says.
“I missed you last week.”
“Yeah, they ditched me, if you can believe it,” he says gesturing to our side of the table.
She shoots us a glare, especially Lily.
“But don’t worry,” Jason goes on with a smirk, “they’re past the awkward silence stage, so I’m allowed to tag along now.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Your sweet smile is always the highlight of my week, honey bear.”
He flashes her the sweet smile, and she exhales with a small sigh as she touches his shoulder. I’m so glad that I’m wearing my sunglasses because I’m sure Jason would smack me if he could see my whole expression.
“The usuals?” She turns her attention to Lily and squints with concentration. “Sunnyside up, right honey?”
Lily beams. “Wow, you have a good memory.”
She winks at her. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”
When she’s out of earshot, Lily snorts with the laughter she can no longer contain.
Jason glares at her, but I laugh too. “I know, right?” I say. “I keep telling him he could get lucky out back.”
Jason’s glare becomes uneasy. “Don’t be an asshole. She’s got a million kids and a crappy job. I don’t need to add to her misery.”
“Oh, I don’t think misery is what she’s looking for,” I say drolly.
Lily really laughs now, and soon he’s wavering and then his face breaks out in a smile.
We manage to compose ourselves when Deena brings the coffee and another waitress brings our food.
“Wow,” I say to Jason when we’re alone again. “You do have your uses. We haven’t even been here five minutes and we’re already eating.”
Because we’re hungry, we eat in silence for a bit before Jason speaks, sounding uncharacteristically serious.
“So, you owe Jenna an apology.”
I want to tell him to fuck off, but Lily’s with us. “No, I don’t.”
“I’m telling you that you do.”
“I was drunk.”
“Dane.” His tone of voice isn’t playing around. “It’s not like you have to apologize to him. But she’s our sister and you can’t treat her like that.”
“Like what?” I say, exasperated, lowering my fork. “Someone needed to step up and tell her what a loser the guy is, so I did.”
Jason laughs without any humor. “You humiliated her in front of her friends and then you threw the guy in the pool.”
“He deserved it.”
“I’m not saying he didn’t. But she deserved better.” Jason continues more gently. “She didn’t go home last night. You’re just pushing her closer to him.”
God, I hate drama, and the thought of apologizing to her makes my skin crawl. But she’s Jenna and really, I love her a lot. The reality that my actions may have had the opposite of their intended effect is about as palatable as apologizing.
“Can I ask what exactly is wrong with this guy?” Lily asks. “He seemed to handle you two glowering at him all day pretty well.”
“He’s a douche, that’s what’s wrong with him,” I say with feeling.
“Anything more specific?” She tries to keep the sarcasm to a minimum, but fails miserably. “Is he hitting her? Or doing drugs?”
No response, and strangely, I find my plate very interesting.
“Is he cheating on her?”
“He works at the mall,” Jason says with contempt.
“Hey, I’m a cashier.”
“Yeah, but you have some ambition,” I say. “This guy has no plans for the future at all. He’s not even close to good enough for her.”
She looks between us. “So basically, she’s not dating a clone of either of you, so he’s no good.”
My immediate response is to tell her that’s bullshit, but for some reason I can’t even look at her, let alone talk back.
“You both owe her an apology if you ask me. But since you didn’t, I’ll keep my opinion to myself.”
Jason laughs, but I just try not to frown.
Back at the house, she starts her laundry, and we watch movies in the rec room. It’s probably the most relaxing day I’ve ever had; making barbs with them about the movies, eating leftover Chinese food, lounging with Lily in my arms. And I’m proud of myself. I’d mostly let her comments about Jason’s family slide right off my back – bad mood: totally unnecessary.
But the best part of the day? Getting ready for bed. Though I’m not exactly sure why. I’d been worried that the invasion of my personal space would grate on my nerves, but no. My nerves are fine, perhaps because my dick isn’t allowing anything else into my brain except the anticipation of sinking into that tight heat of hers.
From my spot on the bed, propped up against the headboard, I’m watching her pack her folded clothes into the hamper to go home tomorrow. She’s wearing ‘pajamas,’ but I haven’t told her to lose them yet. The baseball T-shirt she’s got on is pretty threadbare, and I’m enjoying the way it clings to her breasts and shows her nipples. And the little sleep shorts she’s got on? She hasn’t noticed that they’ve ridden up and her ass cheeks are peeking out the bottom. God, everything about this woman turns me on. I do admit that she freaked me out earlier when she’d whipped down her shorts to pee right in front of me while I was brushing my teeth, but I’d managed not to choke on the toothpaste. Like I’ve said, I want all of her, the good and the bad.
Now, she’s refolding some things, and if I had to guess, I’d say she’s stalling.
“Lil?”
She looks up, but right away her eyes skitter away from me. Is she nervous about something?
“Are you done yet?” I complain petulantly and that gets a small smile out of her.
“Almost.”
Losing patience, I get up and go to stand in front of her.
“Now?”
She bites her bottom lip, and then, without warning, sinks to her knees, bringing her eye level with my very hard dick. If it was aching to get out around the elastic of my Calvins before, it’s now literally twitching.
“Whoa,” I say, reaching to pull her back up. But she evades my hand and leans in to run her nose along my length. I choke on a groan. What the hell is she doing?
He’s so warm here; heat radiates off of him as I run my nose along his straining cock. I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon – overthinking, that is. Nervously wondering if he’ll let me, what he’ll taste like, and how the opportunity will come up, not to mention how I’ll actually do it. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I finally came to the conclusion that I should just go for it. If it doesn’t go well, I can always ask him to teach me. He’d like that, domineering perv that he is.
So, when he comes to stand in front of me in just his boxer briefs, I take my opportunity.
He reaches for me again, but I bat his hand away. “Lil.” The tension in that single syllable tells me that I’m affecting him, giving me confidence for the next step of pulling his underwear down.
Unveiled, his cock bobs in front of me. I take it gently in one hand while the other traces the thick vein that runs along the underside. He’s silky to the touch, and I wonder how it can be so hard yet so soft.
Leaning forward, I look up at him as I slip the head into my mouth, my tongue running easily over the smooth surface. His eyes sink shut, flooding me with pleasure. I want so much to make him feel as good as he makes me.
He’s not stopping me, so I tentatively pull him deeper into my mouth. His moan is exhilarating, shooting straight to my core. Tightening my palm around the base, I slowly bob up and down a few times, gradually sinking lower and lower. He’s hitting the back of my throat now, and I can feel my gag reflex getting restless, warning me I’m at the limit. I remember how he taught me to stroke him, and add that to my bobbing mouth.
I doubt he’s aware of the incredible little noises coming from his lips. They paint his arousal across my skin as if he were the one using his tongue on me. I look up to find his eyes still closed and his lips parted. God, that I can make him forget himself has me rubbing my thighs together, searching for some of my own friction. But that sensation falls to the back of my mind as his hands whisper over my hair briefly, then disappear. Then reappear as if he can’t help himself. I moan when he winds them into my hair absently.
My lips and tongue continue as his grip on me tightens and he pushes forward a bit. A thrill shoots through me and an mmmmm from my voice box vibrates along his length, encouraging him. This time as his hands tighten in my hair, he pulls me deeper and holds me for a moment. I gag slightly, but the feeling of him holding me down has my pussy literally clenching. He lets me go. Heat burns through my body as I gasp for air. When I look up to meet his eyes, he’s staring down at me with adoration.
“More?” he whispers.
I nod around his cock, still a bit stunned.
And now instead of me moving on him, he’s moving in me; much the same as before, but now he’s in control. Shallow strokes continue along my tongue until he wants my hand gone. Moving it scares me a little. What had he said about pushing my limits?
He’s talking. “When it’s too much, touch my leg,” he tells me as his hands tighten in my hair once again and he pushes deep, past my gag reflex – and doesn’t let me go. I’m choking on him, the back of my throat protests the invasion, hurting. I can’t breathe, but the feeling of him holding me in place while I fight back my panic creates an amazing mix of adrenaline and helplessness.
I touch his leg, and he pulls himself out of me. I gag a bit, and my eyes stream as I pull a deep breath into my lungs.
“Look at me,” he orders, and my pussy clenches. He’s guiding his cock back to my mouth. My eyes meet his, and the electricity between us is incredible, racing over my skin like wildfire. “Open.” I obey and his cock fills my mouth again, pushing deep, deeper this time. My throat hurts, but it’s not violent or agonizing; it’s overwhelming. Yes, that’s it. The sheer size of him is overwhelming, and choking on him, surrendering to him, is amazing.
I can’t breathe, it’s too much. My hand is moving to his leg, but his voice stops me. “Not yet,” he commands. “Eyes on me.”
His words go straight to my center. A mini tremor radiates through my labia. Seconds later, the fear starts to overpower the endorphins and I touch his leg. He pulls out immediately, and again I’m gagging and gasping. He’s still got his hands in my hair and it’s a good thing, because I think that’s the only thing holding me up.
He sinks to his knees in front of me, and I lay my forehead on his shoulder. We drop further down to sit on our legs with one of my thighs in between his to be closer to one another.
“You okay?” he whispers, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my neck under my hair.
I’m staring down at his cock between us, so hard and so obviously unsatisfied. He jumps when I wrap my hand around him and begin stroking him up and down, up and down. He moans and his head falls to my shoulder and we both watch as I work him. It doesn’t take long until I feel his whole body tense and then shudder as wave after wave radiates up his shaft and shoots between us.
When it’s over, he’s breathing hard. I smile, completely delighted. Finally, I’m the one who gets to ask, “You okay?”
He chuckles weakly. “Me?” He leans back, forcing me to support my own weight and look at him. He runs his thumb
along my cheek, the look on his face tender and concerned. “Are you okay?”
I lick my lips and then feel them pull into a small smile. “Yeah, and I think I’ve finally figured out the uncomfortable in a good way.”
He laughs softly. “I think you have, too.”
My hand that’s not covered in come rises to my throat.
“Does it hurt?”
I nod. “But it was worth it.”
In the shower, after pushing my back to the tiles, he gets down on his knees, pulls one of my legs over his shoulder, and proceeds to wring an amazing orgasm out of me.
In the morning, he drives me home.
I’ve got a weird schedule this week because of exams, of which I have two – one on Wednesday and one on Thursday – so I’m only working three days. Jerry, the manager, asked if I wanted to work on the weekend to make them up, but I couldn’t bring myself to miss the time with Dane. I justify it with the idea that I have until late September before I have to pay tuition again, and I can make the hours up over the summer.
I have two final projects that have to be submitted today, and I want to go over them once more before I go to work this afternoon. When he leaves me at my door, it warms my heart that he seems reluctant to go.
He’s there to pick me up at nine when I get off work. We’ve agreed that he can stay over with me tonight, but after he takes me to work tomorrow morning, I won’t see him again until Thursday night after my last exam. I’m confident about the exams, but I still need to take the time to go over everything. I can’t throw away all my work this semester just because I happen to be in love.
We spend a big chunk of the night making love, and talking and laughing.
I even find it adorable that he’s in such a bad mood in the morning, complaining about my mattress and my bathroom and anything else he can think of. It just takes a trip to Starbucks to clear it all up.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he tells me when we’re in the parking lot at work. He’s kissing me goodbye, and I’m having trouble getting out of the car.
“We have to,” I say, though I’m pouting too. “It’s for the greater good.”
He growls, making me laugh.
