Words of Lust

by Lise Horton

  “What about fantasies? One of those really raunchy ones? Do you like those?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me your fantasy.”

  “I can’t.” Her tipsy experience after book group, when she’d felt brazen enough to share the details of what they’d talked about, did not translate to an up-close-and-in-person sexual confessional.

  “Yes, you can.” He pushed one finger lower between her legs and slid it between the puffy lips of her pussy. Pushed it forward, into her, then pulled it back and slid her wetness up to her ass again. She wallowed in the carnality of it all and just let go.

  “I’m Lady Chatterley. I’ve fallen under the spell of my gamekeeper. It’s a warm summer day and I’m stifled, lonely. I want to run away. It’s so cold and my husband doesn’t touch me. No one touches me. No one makes me feel alive. I’m in the garden, far from the house, looking up at the sun and imagining I’m somewhere else. Somewhere beautiful. Then he comes to me. He’s so large and strong and his skin is warm from the sun and dark with tan. He doesn’t hesitate. There are no pleasantries, no reticence. He walks right up to me and takes me in his arms.”

  He squeezed the cheeks of her ass, then again and again. Each touch was more forceful and intense. He kneaded her flesh but it began to be more, as his touch grew harder. Moisture overflowed from her cunt and dripped out of her. Pulling and pushing at her cheeks, exposing her anus, he blew a warm breath across her and she gasped. Then he slid his thumb between her cheeks and pushed through the puckered hole, until his thumb entered her. She whimpered.

  “Then what happens?”

  She couldn’t focus, but when she didn’t respond, he stopped moving, leaving her desperate for more of his touch.

  “He’s not gentle. He’s so close to me. He walks right up to me until I can feel the heat of his body, smell the sweat on him, see it. He takes me by the wrist and pulls me away, back, farther from the house until we’re in a secluded glade, all grass and flowers. Then he takes off my clothes. He doesn’t speak, just begins removing everything I’m wearing.”

  “How does that feel?”

  “I’m scared and embarrassed, but then he looks at me and I can’t think anymore and all I want is for him to be naked too. Once I’m undressed, he touches me. He touches my breasts, he fondles them, pinches them. Then he smiles and puts his mouth on one. He licks and sucks and bites. He bites me until I’m squirming and then he sucks on my nipples. Harder and harder, one and then the other. I’m begging for more but he’s still standing there, dressed.”

  He stroked his fingers back and forth, pushing into her ass. Her mind whirled.

  “Keep talking.”

  “I try to pull away but he takes hold of my hair. He pulls my head back and then kisses me, hard. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and I can taste him. Salty from the sweat and the ale from his lunch. I can’t breathe, but I want more, I want him to choke me with his tongue. Kiss me so hard I can’t think. Then he stops. He takes off his clothes. His gaze never leaves my face and he looks ravenous, as though he’s going to devour me. When he’s naked I can’t help but stare. I knew he would be powerfully strong, muscled from his labors, but his body is almost frightening. So large, so big, he makes me feel so tiny and powerless. I am almost afraid—afraid of what he could do to me if he chose. Then he takes my hand and he makes me touch him.”

  “He makes you touch his cock.”

  “Yes. His cock. So huge, so hard and so hot I’m afraid it might burn me. He squeezes my hand and it doesn’t fit around him. He smiles and it’s something dark and feral and dangerous. But it is so wickedly seductive he makes me want the worst he can do to me. Then he takes my wrists and pulls me down, pushes me down, and he straddles me. He takes my wrists and holds them over my head and then I’m underneath him. He’s on top of me, so heavy it’s hard to breathe, but I want it. I love the feel of him heavy and powerful, covering me.”

  With the fingers of his other hand he began to thrust in and out of her. Slowly, infinitesimally, then deeper until she could feel her flesh part for her, clutch around him. Two fingers deeper and deeper and then he started circling her clit with his callused thumb. It felt incredible against the tightening little nub. All the nerve endings twitching as he rubbed it again and again. Like sandpaper over her. Then he stopped and she moaned.

  “No, please!”

  “I’ll make you come when you finish your fantasy.”

  “So cruel!”

  “Yes, I am. Keep talking.” His hands stroked her buttocks, then slid up over her waist, and he began to knead her shoulder, avoiding the injured one. Then he traced his fingers up and down her spine, repeatedly, rhythmically, in an intoxicating slowness that made her feel drunk with sexual hunger.

  “Then he—he pushes my legs apart. Uses his thighs to spread my legs until I’m exposed, I can’t hide myself from him. He can see my flesh.”

  “He can see your pussy, can’t he? Are you wet for him? Can he smell how hot and horny you are?”

  “God, yes, he smiles and with one hand he takes hold of himself.”

  “His cock.”

  “Yes, he takes hold of his cock. God, it is so big and he’s going to put it inside me, he’s going to...fuck me with it.”

  “And you want him to fuck you, don’t you? You want him to fuck you hard. Harder than you’ve ever been fucked. You want him to make you beg and scream. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes, I want him inside me. But then he begins to enter me and it feels like fire. Like I’m going to be ripped apart by him. But he won’t stop, he doesn’t stop. I beg him please, don’t, no, but he won’t. He pushes and pushes, then harder, forcing himself deeper and deeper into me. It won’t fit, it can’t, he’s too big, but he keeps going deeper, then thrusting, hard. Harder. He’s grunting and ramming himself into me until he’s do deep I can’t feel anything but the sensation of his cock so deep inside me. He’s fucking me. He’s strong and powerful and he rocks me back every time he buries himself inside me. I want to scream. I want more. I’m crazy with it.”

  Now Nick finger fucked her harder and harder as she breathlessly detailed her fantasy. She could barely get the words out but when she paused for breath, he stopped. It was like a drug. She had to keep talking like a twisted Arabian Nights tale—if she stopped her story she wouldn’t get to come. Then he pulled his fingers away and put them on her hips, urging her to turn.

  “Roll over.”

  Desperately she did. She looked up at him and he was her fantasy gamekeeper come to life. Black hair nestling on his naked shoulders. Powerful muscles bunching in his arms and chest. His look pierced through her and the hunger on his face mirrored her own. Then, like an echo of her tale, he reached up to her breasts, taking one in each hand, and he began to fondle them. Firmly, he squeezed and played them until her nipples ached. He ran his palms over them, then down across her stomach. He spread his hands at her waist and they were wide enough that he could reach to grasp her hips. Last he rubbed his palm across the mound of her belly, over her curls, and then he cupped her between her legs. Where she was hot and throbbing, his hand covered her. He squeezed her and smiled down at her with a hard smile of possession and satisfaction. His work-roughened palms abraded her weeping flesh as he rubbed, back and forth, relentless until she whimpered and twisted beneath him.

  “Finish.”

  Dragging a breath, she began again. “He grabs my ankle and forces my leg over his shoulder. Now he can pump harder. Go deeper. He’s like a machine and I can’t make him stop, I can’t escape, all I can do is feel his cock driving into me again and again.”

  His fingers slid into her. Thick and insistent. Two, then three. He was no longer gentle or slow. He was forceful. Pushing her, driving her.

  “You want to come, don’t you?”

  “Yes, please, Nick, I want to come.”

  “Finish and I’ll make you come.”

  “It’s all I can do not to scream. I’m overwhelmed and possessed by him. He m
akes sounds like an animal. Harsh, urgent, guttural. He says things—he tells me he’s going to fuck me every day. He’s going to take me wherever he wants to. He’ll keep me naked and tied down so he can stick his cock in me whenever he wants. Oh God, Nick!”

  With a pinch of her clit he sent her into orgasm. She came and when she did, he smiled that same smile her fantasy lover had smiled. One of possession and satisfaction and unquenchable hungers.

  “I told you I’d make you come.”

  The buzzer rang.

  She tensed. He sat up and muttered a curse.

  The buzzer rang again.

  “Those freakin’ kids! I’m going to kill them if I get my hands on them.”

  The mood rudely shattered, she rolled over, tightened the bath towel around her and bolted off the bed. She had no idea what he was yelling about, but she didn’t want to be caught in a lethargic, nearly orgasmic and, of course, naked, state.

  “Hello?” His tone was testy as he punched the button on the intercom.

  “Hi, honey. It’s Mom. Cara and I are here to check up on Serafina.”

  “Holy shit.” He threw her a desperate glance over his shoulder.

  “Go, go, I’m fine. I’ll change in the bathroom! Wait—clothes?”

  “Put on my T-shirt and I’ll get you some drawstring shorts. They’re the only thing I’ve got that might stay up. I’ll tell them you just got out of the bath.”

  “Fine, fine.” She scurried back into the bathroom to hide while he welcomed his mother and sister. Mortified didn’t begin to describe her state at being caught almost in flagrante delicto with him. No, to be precise, she’d almost been caught with his fingers inside her while she begged for more. Fortunately, her hair was still damp so maybe the bath story would be believable.

  “Here.” Red-faced and frustrated, he stuck his head into the bathroom and tossed her a pair of sport shorts. Tying the baggy pants as tightly as she could, she looked in the mirror and grimaced. The perfect outfit to impress her lover’s mom.

  She could hear them talking and laughing but couldn’t work up the nerve to come out until finally Cara called her.

  “Coming.” She emerged, determined to pretend everything was perfectly normal.

  “Serafina! You poor thing, look at your beautiful face.” Mrs. Stellato rushed forward and wrapped her in a hug that hurt her shoulder, but the gesture was so touching she held back her groan.

  “How do you feel?” Cara waddled over, huffing and puffing, and reached out to hold her hand.

  “Not as bad as last night. Nick has taken very good care of me.”

  “I should hope so. Are you feeding her?” His mother sent a scowl over her shoulder at Nick, who was standing rather awkwardly in the middle of the space.

  “Of course, Mom. I’ve even been giving her cooking lessons.”

  “Well, I brought over some meatballs and zuppa. Hearty food will help you feel better and get healed.” She pulled out of the hug and took her worn recyclable shopping bag into the kitchen space where she began unloading.

  “I hope you have a good appetite. You’re going to be eating meatballs for, oh, I’d say a week?” Cara had slipped an arm around her waist, though she seemed to need the support too.

  “How are you?” Cara’s face looked even paler and more strained than it had at the first Sunday family dinner. “Is Rocco home yet?”

  “Nope. And I’m really missing him. If only I didn’t feel like such a cow, and if only the doctor wouldn’t keep hounding me about staying off my feet, and if only this little alien would burst out, I’d be one happy camper.”

  “Come on, speaking of sitting down, let’s get you off your feet.”

  Nick was helping his mother as she kept her arm around Cara and helped her to the sofa.

  Once they were seated, Cara glanced around the room.

  “Hmm. Bed looks mussed. I’m thinking Nick’s therapy has included something, ah, hands-on?” Cara giggled and it made her smile too. Unfortunately it also made her blush and so Cara nodded knowingly.

  “I should have known. He’s been playing doctor since he was ten and got Denise to pull up her skirt for an examination.”

  She sighed at Cara’s words. “The infamous Denise again.”

  “Don’t worry about her. She’s a real piece of work, and Nicky doesn’t want anything to do with her.”

  “So he claims.”

  “Oooh, girlfriend, you are sounding jealous!” Cara poked her but then gave a pained grunt and stopped talking.

  “Okay?”

  “Just kicks and pokes, but I’m tired of my bladder being used as a punching bag.”

  Mrs. Stellato called out that she was putting on some meatballs and sauce to heat up as she pulled out a loaf of Italian bread. “We’ll have heroes. Nick, you have any parmesan?”

  “You kidding me?” He and his mother were working like a well-oiled team in the kitchen, so she kept talking to Cara.

  “Have you heard from Gia? I know your brother called her, but she’s ignoring him.” She avoided the reason, knowing an uproar would ensue when Gia’s lifestyle was exposed to the rest of the family.

  “She’s such a drama queen. She gets pissed at you for something, forget about it. Then, all of a sudden, you’re best friends again. It’s really annoying.”

  “Nick insisted I stay home today. He didn’t want me going all the way to school. I emailed the students, but I thought I’d hear back from her.”

  “Probably shacked up with some guy. I mean, I like sex too, obviously—” she patted her bulging abdomen, “—but she’s a crazy woman when it comes to boys. And they like her too. She was smart to insist on living away for college. It’s freaking impossible to sneak a boy up to your room with your mother and father plopped in front of the TV every night. I had to get creative.”

  “Sex in cars with boys?”

  “Not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” The memory of Nick’s hands on her in the back of his truck made her flush again, and Cara tsked.

  “I suppose since he’s my brother I shouldn’t be so darned interested in his love life, huh?”

  “Probably not.”

  “I have to live vicariously, though. I think I forgot how to have sex.”

  “It won’t be long now. Make a date with Rocco for a couple months down the line and it will all come back to you.”

  “Cara, honey, you hungry?”

  “I can’t eat, Mom. I’ve got rotten heartburn and if I eat heavy now, I’ll never get to sleep.”

  “Where are the kids?”

  “Rocco’s mom has them. She picked them up after day care and promised to keep them for the weekend. Mom and I figured you might not be up for tomorrow night, so we decided to come to you instead. Meatballs aren’t the only thing mom’s got in there.”

  “Serafina, you want some spumante? Cara, I’ve got sparkling cider for you.”

  “No, Mom, I—uhn.” She suddenly doubled up and everything stopped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Cara’s body tightened as she let out a groan. “Something. I don’t know,” she screamed as fluid gushed down her legs.

  “Nick, Mrs. Stellato, I think her water broke.” Serafina stood, feeling frightened and useless.

  “It’s too early.” Cara was barely able to talk as she clutched her swollen stomach. “Mom, it’s too early.”

  “Serafina, call an ambulance. Nick, call Rocco. Get him home. Cara, honey, do you have your doctor programmed into your phone?” At Cara’s nod, Mrs. Stellato grabbed her daughter’s bag and pulled out the phone. She put in the call to the OB/GYN and explained what was happening.

  “She’ll meet us at the hospital. Nick, you got him?”

  He nodded and handed his mother the phone. She informed Rocco that his wife was in trouble and then she passed the phone to Cara, who wailed into it.

  Serafina had confirmed that the ambulance was on its way, having assured them it was not a normal
labor, that Cara was more than a month away from her due date and had a problem pregnancy. She prayed the severity of the situation would get their attention.

  Mrs. Stellato was comforting her daughter, holding her hands and talking to her in a soothing voice as Nick paced, looking dark and frightened. When she began showing blood as well, everyone paled, and the sound of the ambulance arriving sent them all into action.

  He hurried to go down and let the EMTs in and then helped them get Cara onto the gurney. Mrs. Stellato had called her husband and sons. She grabbed Cara’s purse. “Nick, follow me to the hospital.”

  “Sure, Mom. Right behind you.”

  “I’ll just stay here. I don’t want to be in the way.” She felt like a third wheel as he and his mom dealt with the crisis.

  “Of course you’re coming. We’ll all be there for Cara.” Mrs. Stellato simply took her by the arm and pulled her along with them as he closed and locked his door and hustled them down to the parking lot.

  Cara whimpered on the gurney and her mother gave her one last fierce hug before she climbed into her Volvo. Nick squeezed one hand.

  “Hang tough, baby sister. Everything’s going to be all right. Rocco’s catching the next flight home and he’ll be here in just a couple of hours.”

  “Are you coming too, Serafina? Please come, okay?” Cara’s words were faint as the doors to the ambulance closed and the vehicle sped off.

  “Come on, Professor.” He grabbed her hand and ran for his truck. The urgency of the situation was written plain across his face. He was petrified for his baby sister and her heart went out to him. She couldn’t be so selfish at a time like this.

  The New York Downtown hospital was only a few minutes away as he drove, speeding around cars that were slowing him down. Ahead of them she could see his mother’s Volvo careening from lane to lane. Like mother, like son.

  Inside a hospital for the second time in two days felt like déjà vu, but this time her fear wasn’t for herself.

  “Cara’s doctor’s coming in from Jamaica, so it’s going to be a while.” She was being attended to and after a brief examination, the Stellatos were told she was being rushed into labor and delivery.