Starlight (Peaches Monroe) (Volume 2) Paperback – September 2, 2013

by Mimi Strong

  He filled me with fingers, the sensation powerful and pleasant. I relaxed in my bent-forward position and took him in, fitting his hand like a very happy glove.

  Soon, I felt the tremor begin, pushing me up onto my tiptoes. I rocked my hips, pushing down harder against him, chasing the high and worried he was going to stop. He thrust his fingers into me harder, thumbing my clit with skill and pushing me to new heights as I came undone.

  “Fucking fuck!” I moaned, then just, “Fuuuuck.”

  He waited until the spasms ceased before gently withdrawing his fingers, careful not to tickle too much.

  “Huh,” he said.

  I turned around and retrieved my underwear from the floor.

  “You were expecting the squirting?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But I guess, like you said, it doesn’t happen every time.” He went to the sink and washed up as I pulled on my panties. I could see the outline of his rigid cock inside his pants, and I got a few ideas, but he was looking over at the food now, so my plans could wait. Keith liked to wait, but as long as he took care of my needs, that was fine by me.

  After he dried off his hands, he grabbed me in another hug, this time facing me.

  “Don’t you look proud of yourself,” I said, grinning to match his expression.

  He kissed me on the tip of my nose. “You have the nicest, sweetest, tastiest little cunt. I want to crawl up inside there like it’s a boutique hotel room.”

  My jaw dropped open. How could he say that word and make it sound so endearing?

  He laughed at me, and my rare speechlessness.

  Finally, I said, “Dinner?”

  “Famished.”

  “Go sit down. I’ll bring everything over.”

  He gave me one more kiss, then let me go to take a seat on a teak chair. “I totally forgot I had these chairs,” he said.

  I got ice cubes, made us some vodka and soda refreshments, and brought the drinks and the Salad Niçoise over to the table. He kept grabbing my ass and thighs as I served up the food.

  “You can’t get enough of me,” I teased.

  He pulled me down onto his lap and started pillaging me through my clothes. I squealed and got away.

  “Come give me a lap dance,” he said.

  “These little folding chairs aren’t rated for lap dancing. I’ve got a lot to shake, and I don’t want you to break.”

  He grinned and pulled his chair in to the table as I took my seat across from him.

  “I’m glad you have a lot to shake,” he said.

  I pursed my lips and poked at the green beans with my fork.

  After a moment, he said, “What’s going on?”

  “Just thinking. Me and my body are cool with each other. I like it when men appreciate my curves, but I only want to hear about it so much. Don’t tell me you like my booty, show me, you know what I mean? That’s how it is with some guys, but with you, Mr. Sexy Model Man, you’ve certainly shown me your appreciation, and I plan to return the favor right after dinner.”

  He waggled his eyebrows and sipped his drink. “I like the sound of that.”

  “I’m going to yank off your clothes, and I’m going to worship your cock—worship it like some pre-historic cave girl who’s never seen a cock before, because she’s been raised in an all-female tribe. I’m going to sing a song to your cock, and lavish it with all my attention. Then I’m going to suck it so hard the top will turn purple.”

  Keith let out a nervous laugh.

  “Oh, you’d better be scared,” I said. “This cave girl has been having dreams about your pointy thing. Witch-doctor-mushroom-juice-prophecy type dreams. And tonight is the night of legend.”

  “We’re going all Clan of the Cave Bear tonight?”

  “As soon as we’re done eating our salad.”

  “I can work with that.” He took a bite of the food I’d made. “Mmm. This is good. And I’m not just saying that because you terrify me.”

  I started eating my dinner, and for a minute, I worried that I’d oversold the evening’s planned activities. I had some vague ideas about prostate massage, but that was about it—no cave-woman costume or bones to twist into my hair. Then I remembered that Keith was a man, and as long as I put his cock somewhere wet, and didn’t bite it too much, he’d be happy.

  “How was landscaping today?” I asked.

  “Not bad. Remember that restaurant we went to on our first date?”

  “That was a date?” I waved my hand. “Never mind. We don’t need labels. Yes, I remember the place.”

  “Edgar and his family were one of my first clients. Really good customers, and nice people, if you remember. I just went to oversee some work my company is doing for them.”

  “But you’re not sweaty or dirty.”

  He grinned. “My manager is, though. And the three guys we have working for us. Actually, the manager is set to take over the whole business, because I’m switching to modeling full-time now.”

  “What about your sister? Isn’t she your partner?”

  “She’ll be partners with Mikey now. This is all for the best, because she and I were too entwined in each other’s lives. Now I get to be on my own, make my own decisions.”

  “I feel scared for you, going off to Italy by yourself.”

  “We have to do things that scare us, or hurt us, or we don’t grow.”

  I sighed. “I don’t want to grow anymore. I’m feeling pretty good about where I’m at. I don’t want to get hurt anymore. I’d sincerely prefer to never cry again.”

  He quirked one dark eyebrow up. “What about crying at weddings?”

  “I’d rather just be happy and smile. My cousin Marita’s wedding was nice. Everybody was too tense about the age gap to get all emotional, which was fine by me.” I picked up my glass and chugged the remainder. “I don’t like being overwhelmed, good or bad, where you feel like a glass that’s being overfilled with water.”

  “Meditation really helps with that feeling.”

  I rolled my eyes. “How can thinking about all my problems do anything to solve them?”

  “Let’s say you need to do a math problem. Long division. You need to do it on paper. Are you better off using a fresh sheet of paper, or the back of an envelope that’s all covered in scribbles?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Don’t get ahead of me. Visualize your two options and tell me. Blank sheet, or scribbled-on envelope?”

  “The blank sheet, obviously.”

  “Meditation isn’t about thinking through all your problems at once. It’s for thinking about nothing. So you become the blank sheet, and then later, you can take on your problems, one at a time.”

  Maybe it was the vodka, or his model-gorgeous face, but Keith’s explanation made some sense.

  “I’m really glad you met me,” I said. Laughing, I corrected myself, “That I met you!”

  He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it. “How strong were these drinks? I can’t feel my tongue.”

  “The first time I got drunk, it was with my girlfriends, and we kept trying to measure how drunk we were by standing on one foot with our eyes closed. The funniest thing was my best friend, Shayla, had better balance drunk than she did sober. I guess she relaxed and stopped trying so hard.”

  “Sounds like a metaphor for life.”

  I chuckled and went back to my salad.

  We talked for a bit more over dinner, about life and philosophy. Keith had a lot of good ideas. I didn’t agree with all of them, but I could see how they might work for other people.

  After we’d finished eating, Keith jumped up to do the dishes. I stood beside him and dried after he washed. At one point, I put my head on his shoulder, and for a minute, it didn’t feel like we were playing house at all. Our relationship was real, and our connection to each other was real.

  He kissed me on the cheek and said he wanted to take a shower, since he’d gotten sweaty in the sun that day.

  I waited for him in the bedro
om—completely naked, under the sheets. When I heard the water shut off, I started to get nervous. The room was still bright with the evening sun streaming through the blinds. I hadn’t closed the blackout curtains, because I was feeling more confident about sex in the light.

  Keith walked in, wearing nothing but a towel slung low across his hips. I squealed and clapped my hands at the sight of him. From the defined muscles to the perfectly-tanned skin, he truly was a fine specimen. But more than that, he had a personality that was just as beautiful.

  “C’mere,” I said, patting the bed next to me.

  CHAPTER 15

  He had some clothes in his hand, and he tossed them on a chair. Then he turned his back to me and opened up the towel covering his lower body. He kept the towel in place, hiding his buttocks, teasing me.

  “Woo!” I cheered, clapping my hands.

  He moved his body, shaking his hips from side to side, lowering the towel a few inches, then raising it up before I could see his ass. He turned around, still holding the towel up, hiding his goodies.

  “Tease!”

  “Show me your body,” he said.

  I propped myself up against the headboard and pulled the sheet down to show him my breasts.

  “Touch yourself,” he said.

  Making continuous eye contact with him, I cupped one breast and then both with both hands. I moaned and massaged myself while staring at him with my sexy face. (At least I hoped it was a sexy face.)

  He still had both hands on the edge of the towel, and he nodded down. I watched as a bump appeared, pushing against the white towel and inching its way up.

  I shrieked with a combination of amusement and surprise.

  “Don’t scare it,” he said, still laughing.

  I patted the bed next to me. “C’mere. I don’t bite… hard.”

  He tossed the towel onto the chair and followed his direction-pointer straight to me. Over on the dresser, his phone started to wiggle around, vibrating with an incoming phone call.

  “One minute,” he said, grabbing the phone. “Hello.” He nodded and breathed audibly, then leaned back against the dresser. “Okay. Yup. Okay.”

  His arrow was still pointing right at me.

  It sounded like he was having to endure a really dull phone call, so I rolled out of bed, got on my hands and knees, and crawled over to him.

  He shrugged, and kept talking on the phone.

  I nuzzled my way up his beautiful legs and kissed the base of his penis. He patted me on top of my head, which I took as a sign of encouragement. Gripping the base loosely with one hand, I ran my tongue up the length of him and then around the contours of the head.

  That beautiful ridge of skin is one of my favorite parts of a man—the way it fits a tongue or mouth so perfectly is amazing, every time. I took him in through my lips, moaning softly with pleasure as his flesh filled my mouth. He sucked in air through his teeth, and I smiled around my mouthful.

  He kept talking, giving only one-word answers. Something told me it was his ex-girlfriend on the line, and it didn’t bother me he was talking to her, because he seemed annoyed by her, plus I had his cock in my mouth.

  More sucking. I was enjoying myself, and getting into the task at hand.

  Above me, he ended the call and tossed the phone onto the dresser. I startled at the noise and grazed him with my teeth.

  He cried out, “Oh, fuck!”

  I popped his lollipop out of my mouth and blinked up at him. “Sorry.”

  He blinked slowly. “Don’t be sorry. That was terrifying, but I think I liked it.”

  “Oh, really? In that case…” I took him in my mouth, but I didn’t get him with my teeth. Instead, I brought my hands up to the tops of his thighs and lightly scraped my fingernails down his thighs. Not enough to leave a mark, but definitely a sensation.

  He tensed up, and his cock got thicker and heavier in my mouth. I alternated with soft and then tight pressure, and then I very deliberately dragged the tip of my eyetooth along the length of him. He started to tremble. I ran my hands up and down his legs, then moved my hands to his buttocks, where I pinched him.

  “Oh, fuck,” he said again, his breath ragged. “You are one crazy cave girl.”

  He seemed really surprised by everything I was doing, but I was in a wicked, horny mood, and wanted to blow his mind. The next thing, I didn’t even think about it. I stuck my finger in my mouth, alongside his cock, to get it wet and slippery. Then I nestled my finger up between his gorgeous buttocks and burrowed my way up in there. Right in the cave. Hooking my finger to put pressure on the male g-spot, aka the prostate, I gave a light massage while at the same time, I powered down on his cock, with my other hand around the base helping my mouth.

  Keith became my hand puppet and completely lost control. He made some garbled noises, wove his fingers into my hair at the back of my head, and trembled as he spurted. I swallowed him down happily, my whole body tingling with excitement. When it was over, I eased my finger out of the cave slowly, and sat back on my heels, gazing up at him.

  Whispering, he said, “That was intense.”

  I licked my lips. “That was fun.”

  His phone started buzzing around again.

  “Shit. That’s Tabitha again,” he said. “My ex.”

  “Figured as much. Now what? Does she really, really have to make popcorn, and you still have her other favorite popcorn bowl?”

  The phone kept buzzing, demanding to be answered.

  “Close. She wants her folding patio chairs back.” He tipped his head to the side, looking apologetic. “Her grandmother was a medium. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is her psychic side coming through, and she only thought of the chairs because we were using them.”

  “Really, Keith? Psychic stuff? What next, voodoo?”

  He pushed the buzzing phone away from him, as if some physical distance would help.

  “The world is a strange place, full of possibilities,” he said.

  The phone kept buzzing.

  “Oh, just answer it,” I said, feeling annoyed.

  As he did, I got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up, including washing my finger. (I know you were thinking about the finger and getting worried about hygiene. Please rest assured that I gave my dark-cave-exploring finger a good scrub, with soap.)

  When I came out of the bathroom, still naked, he was just finishing the call. After setting the phone down, he said gravely, “She’s coming over to get the chairs.”

  I shook my fist. “And for me to punch her some new freckles.”

  Keith didn’t laugh. He didn’t appear to be in a very good mood at all, considering the Top Grade blow job I just gave him. That was some premium servicing, and for my efforts I was getting a long, miserable face?

  I got on the bed and rolled to my side, striking a pose straight out of an old-timey painting. “Hey, would you say I look Rubenesque like this?” I squeezed my tatas together, crossed my eyes, and stuck out my tongue. “How about now?”

  He started sorting through the clothes on the chair, oblivious to my cuteness.

  I relaxed my pose, pulling the sheet across to cover my nakedness. “Do you want me to leave?” I asked. “I could be elsewhere. I don’t need to be here.”

  “Where would you go?”

  My inner bitch dialed up a notch or two, and my voice got angry and sarcastic. “I don’t know, Keith. Is Disneyland still open?”

  He slowly finished getting dressed, keeping his back to me the whole time.

  A little softer, I said, “I’ll go to that coffee place that’s walking distance. Jitter bugs. Jitter beans. Jitterpalooza. Jizzing Bed Bugs. Fuck. What is that place called?”

  “Jitters?”

  “Yeah.” I got up and tried to get dressed with as much dignity as I could while still giving off the vibe I was pissed as hell, yet also couldn’t give a single fuck.

  “Great, now you’re upset with me, too,” Keith said. “What are you unhappy about? I’ve been playing
by your rules, but it’s not enough, apparently.”

  “Uh, my rules? Do you mean coming? As opposed to holding back your pleasure like some sexual anorexic?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really, Dr. Phil. Tell me more.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that!” I had my green sundress back on, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “That was out of line, and I’m sorry.” I looked up with puppy-dog eyes. By this point, I actually had forgotten what I was angry about, and hoped he wouldn’t ask. I may have a big mouth and be prone to fits of hilarious pouting, but I’m not without self-awareness. Keith hadn’t done anything wrong. I was nervous and jealous about his long-legged ex coming over, and trying to hide my insecurity. Poorly.

  “I’m completely over Tabitha,” he said. “I don’t care what she thinks about how I live my life, and I don’t care who she’s fucking. She can fuck every one of our friends if she wants. I don’t need them, and I don’t need her.”

  Keith picked up his phone and scowled at the screen. “This is so like her to suddenly need her chairs back.”

  I sensed a big speech coming, and I wasn’t wrong. After a rant about her chairs, he went blah-blah-blah about Tabitha and how she liked to have picnics, but she had to buy a whole set of matching plates and bowls for four people, and God forbid Keith use one of the plastic bowls for his granola, because then it would go through the dishwasher more times than the other ones and the red plastic would fade, and…

  Keith went on and on about all the things Tabitha used to do to irritate him. Honestly, the complaints weren’t that bad. I found myself siding with her, because everyone knows you don’t leave wet towels on the bed. Come on, Keith. Do you want your whole apartment to smell like mildew?

  I just nodded and tried to be a good Rebound. Listening to Keith’s laundry list of gripes got boring pretty fast. I surreptitiously pulled out my phone and checked for new messages. There were some details about the commercial shoot on Monday. Four days away. Time was just flying by. I smiled, thinking that if I could keep Keith talking about all his complaints about Tabitha, it would slow time down, like a time dilation field in a sci-fi show.