Johnny Blue

by Azure Boone

  His finger slid back down and dove inside me in one smooth thrust.

  My head fell back with a gasp. Yes. Yes he was doing it.

  “Look at me Jewel.”

  I pulled my head forward and pried my lids open at hearing that need in his voice. It was such a mysterious need I desperately had to answer. Deep and far reaching. He stared into my eyes, flicking that spot in me. Relentlessly. I could only gasp and hold on to his hungry gaze.

  “Fuck you’re beautiful,” he croaked.

  So hard to argue when he made me feel this way. I felt beautiful. I pumped his finger, straining my legs wider, desperate for more. He strummed my nipple with the backs of fingers again. Oh God, yes. “Johnny.” That beautiful name exhaled sharp as my thighs trembled with the consuming ache in my clit.

  He looked down at my squirming hips. “I love to watch you fuck my finger.” He reached with his other hand and stroked my folds around his finger. He let out a groan and pushed my lips open, exposing my clit. God, touch it. He placed the full pad of his middle finger barely on it. I pumped my hips for it. “Yes,” he whispered, watching. “You want it so bad. Damn your pretty little clit is hard.” He pulled his finger slowly out and plunged back in with three quick, deep jabs.

  I gasped and cried out, bucking for it, searching for the straining mound in his jeans. My fingers raked over the hardness and his breath caught. He retaliated with the tip of his finger on my clit, barely flicking the very edge, shooting a current of premature orgasmic shudders through my body. With a gasp, I shot a glance out the windows, grunting with the aggressive rapture. Thank God the city was too alive to care. My right hand pushed against the seat, my whimpers growing into thick sultry desire; the kind that made me want to climb him and ride his cock with abandon, not caring who saw.

  He gave a barely knowing smile while looking into my eyes, one finger smacking rapidly in and out of me, the other mercilessly tickling the tip of my clit. “I feel it,” he whispered. “You’re so close. Pussy is so tight.” He gasped and groaned when I cried out, the orgasm rushing toward the demand of his fingers. I gripped his cock with my hand, my nails clawing the seat as my moans rose with the approaching wave.

  My body went rigid as the orgasm locked onto every cell.

  “Yes baby, yes.” His demand growled as he jabbed his finger in and out of my dripping heat while his other finger wiggled frantically over my clit. Ecstasy gripped my every nerve, it was like being electrocuted with it! I rode the current, my shrill cries echoing the intensity. “God damn, come all over me baby.” This right next to my gasping mouth.

  Time and reality gradually returned as his movements slowed. He eased his finger out and tenderly stroked up and down my still humming lips. I turned to meet his kisses and he immediately demonstrated on my mouth what he was wanting in that second. He traced all over my lips with his tongue, in and out, then sucked the lower, moaning.

  “Welcome to New York,” he whispered, his kisses turning achingly tender.

  My heart fluttered and I gasped a light laugh. “Wow. Thank you.”

  His lips broke into a smile against mine. “Much more where that came from. Let’s go.” He finally pulled away and shamelessly sucked my essence off his finger. Made me hungry to do the same damn thing to him. And I would.

  “I’ll send somebody for our stuff.” He got out and met me on the passenger side of the old pick-up.

  “Is this where you work?” I know he’d said we were going home, but surely this wasn’t it. My gaze crawled up the sky scraper building with the lower glass floor. We ran across the street.

  “Well, kinda. Since I work out of my home a lot.”

  Security nodded at him as we went toward an elevator at the far end of the giant open room.

  “So you…live at your work?”

  The doors dinged shut and he answered me with his tongue in my mouth, hands roving firmly over my body. He kissed me like he was starving until the bell dinged again. I gasped when he pulled away. “More like I work where I live.” His eager breath hit my mouth as he rubbed his nose against mine.

  I struggled to understand his words but he’d just kissed me senseless. I nodded and he pulled me down a wide hall to his “room.”

  Said room took my breath away. It was like walking into one of those fancy magazines I read technical articles out of for the sake of staying current. Okay, more like I was dreaming. It was such a contradiction from the little cottage he’d just left. So…fancy and…rich. I turned and met his gaze and found him standing, watching my reaction. The look on his face seemed…worried. About what?

  “You hate it.”

  My brows rose that I was right—he worried about what I thought. “No!” I gave a light laugh with a wave of my hand. “Just…so different from…from what you left is all.” I looked all around again. Stainless steel appliances, black shiny counters and floor, white walls and ceiling. “Cept for the blue.” I regarded the splashes of various blues everywhere. In the décor, the pictures. That was the only thing I recognized of him in the sterilized room. I looked at him and my heart skipped a beat when I met another blue. “Like your eyes.”

  He reached for the hem of his black t-shirt and removed it.

  Goodness. My eyes locked on that beautiful white satin skin, pulled tight over ripples of muscle. I licked my lips, seeing his nipples were hard. My eyes lowered to that beautiful strip of hair disappearing where his hands now undid his blue jeans. Yes, yes.

  His hands suddenly stopped and I looked up at him. “You’re going to think all I want you for is sex,” he said.

  I swallowed and gave a light laugh. “Of course not.”

  He strolled over and took my hand, leading me to a stool at the snack bar. “Sit.”

  I did, quite aware of how wet my panties were. He unhooked two champagne glasses from above the bar and set them on the counter. “We should celebrate.”

  I smiled. “What are we celebrating?”

  He leaned and peered below the counter and brought up a bottle of champagne. I stared at his huge smile, my heart thundering.

  “What are we celebrating?” He dug through a drawer and produced a cork screw. A second later, I shrieked when the cork popped. “We,” he filled my glass half way with bubbly gold. “Are celebrating,” he filled his next, then held the glass up before me. “Art.”

  I grinned and raised my own. “Art?”

  He met my smile with one of his own electric ones and chinked our glasses together lightly. “Yes. Jeweled art.”

  Heat crawled up my cheeks and I narrowed my gaze at how silly that was. “Okay.” I sipped the champagne, not getting why or how that was fantastic, but loving it nonetheless.

  He walked over to a wall and one touch slid it open, revealing an array of electronics. Another touch and the air filled with soft classical music. Wow. He turned and headed straight for me, grinning. I held his gaze as he took a stool next to me. “So, tell me something I don’t know about you.”

  Oh brother. I took a few sips of champagne, reminding myself to go easy. For some it was liquid courage, for me, it was liquid insanity.

  “What you wanna’ know?”

  He smiled, and I realized how Cajun sounding that came out. “You’re age would be nice.”

  Oh Lord, please don’t let me be older than him. “You first.”

  Damn, that sexy grin said he wasn’t a day over twenty-five. “Twenty-eight.”

  “Oh Lord.” I took another sip, fighting off the heat creeping up my neck, not meeting his gaze. “I’m…I’m thirty-two.”

  “Oh my God, really?”

  I jerked my gaze up. “What?”

  His brows raised with a laugh. “You look twenty-five, I’m not kidding.” He rubbed his chest with one hand and downed his champagne. He set his glass on the counter and held his hand out to me. “Let’s dance.”

  I smiled, stomach flipping. How many times had I fantasized about slow dancing with a hunk like him? I got up and put my hand in his and he g
uided me to the center of the room then proceeded to slowly twirl me in a spin. I laughed and he smiled down at me, settling both hands softly on my waist.

  I placed my hands on his shoulders and blushed at meeting his sexy smile.

  “I swear, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I’m not kidding.”

  Oh my gosh, this man. “Stop it.” I lowered my gaze and bit my lower lip, smiling. I’d never loved words more, especially that ache in his deep voice.

  “Tell me something about you Jewel. Something you’ve never told anybody before.”

  My heart raced and I suddenly wished I had my champagne. Did I have any secrets I was willing to share?

  “I’ll tell you one about me. That nobody knows,” he said. “Well, not family anyway.”

  I looked up at him, smiling. “Okay.”

  Those kiss me lips slowly tugged to one side and his blue eyes glittered in the indirect lighting. “I used to dance.”

  My brows slowly rose. “Dance? What…kind of dance?”

  His expression became seductive and his hands lowered over my ass and pressed me close to him. “The dirty kind,” he whispered.

  My insides jolted at feeling his cock. He was hard. And that tone in his voice…

  I gasped out a laugh to hide the desire flooding me. Why was I so damn nervous? “Dancing, wow.” My gaze snagged on his chest. “Like…the movie dirty dancing?” I forced my eyes up to his.

  He leaned and brushed my nose with his lips. “I’ll show you.”

  He led me to the couch and had me sit then headed back to the stereo. A few seconds later, techno music filled the air.

  With the sleek stride of a panther, he came before me, climbed on the coffee table, and began. I was holding on for dear life as he put on his show, his up close and very personal show, slowly stripping his clothes off for me while moving that ass and body and cock only a few feet away from me. I ended up laughing through the raging desire and an odd sense of pride that he would show me this side of him. So this is why he was so good in bed.

  I began thinking of what in the world I could show him about myself. I didn’t have any hidden talents, nothing like that.

  When it was all said and done, he turned the music back to soft and slow and made his way to me in only his sexy, skimpy underwear. He sat on the coffee table across from me, body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. “I’m not proud of that,” he said.

  Not proud… “Why on earth not? Oh my God, you were amazing, I’ve never met a man who could dance better than me!”

  His eyes sparkled. “You can dance?”

  I gasped and laughed. “No, actually, I can’t, but still, you were sooooo, wow. What a treat and honor, thank you!” I forced my head to quit nodding. “How old were you when you did that?”

  “Twenty-two.” He seemed embarrassed. “Just out of college and a starving artist with a father who believed a real man should earn his way through life and art was for sissies.”

  “Oh gosh, not to me.”

  “Not to you?”

  The sex appeal in this man was off the charts. So hard to concentrate while he sat there, palms on the table behind him, cock as big as you please. “Not…to me, no.”

  “What is an artist to you?”

  My mouth opened with no answer. Damn. That was close to the question what is truth? I thought about it a few seconds. “I guess…to me an artist is a person that… speaks through pictures? Sorry,” I lowered my head, “I’m not the best at putting complex things into words, I mean, art is sort of complicated, hard to explain.” My voice lowered. “Like maybe…the secrets of the universe are trying to find their way through your paint brush.”

  Heat crawled up my cheeks at how lame that sounded.

  “That’s exactly what it’s like for me,” he said, amazed. “Like there is something there wanting to speak and it only speaks in color through paint on canvas. Sometimes I when I’m done with a painting, I’ll stare at it for days, trying to understand what the hell it is and why.”

  “I find that truly amazing.”

  He shrugged. “I find it annoying sometimes. Like maybe somebody is wanting to tell me something important and I can’t get it. Why don’t they just come right out and say it, why the mystery.”

  “Or maybe it’s just… the you inside that… you think people won’t accept, maybe this is his way of living.” I suddenly felt stupid and worried my words may have been offensive somehow. “I think… you’re amazing, honestly and wonder…”

  I chewed my lip and looked down. Johnny knelt before me, his hands on my suddenly trembling knees. “You wonder what?” His voice slid like silk through me.

  I closed my eyes, wanting to be honest, but embarrassed. “Wonder…wonder why you like me.” Oh God that sounded ridiculous out loud no matter how true it was.

  He leaned and slid his hands behind me, up my shirt, until his warm fingers caressed my lower back. Then he laid his head in my lap.

  The gesture stole my breath and filled my chest with that ache to belong, to be loved, to love, to hope and dream again. I stroked his silky hair, wishing so hard that he would stay real.

  He raised his head and placed it on my chest next. I continued to stroke his hair, my eyes closing, just relishing in the dreamy moment, letting it be real, letting it feed me.

  He finally raised his face and rubbed his nose on mine. “When I look at you…when I’m with you…” he brushed my lips with his, “it’s like…I don’t need to paint.”

  My heart raced at the agony in his words, at feeling them on my mouth.

  “You make me feel…” he again slid those warm lips over mine. “…complete.”

  I was lost to the feel of his butterfly kisses and all the dreams they held.

  “Damn, that was so corny sounding,” he whispered against my lips, smiling.

  “God no,” I gasped, my fingers stroking his face as need raged inside me. “Please…make love to me.”

  He groaned a sound that felt like I’d just invited him to heaven when he thought he’d never be worthy to go. Amazing that we both seemed to suffer in the same ways but from different sides of life’s crazy spectrum. His lips found my jaw and he nibbled, his quickened breaths telling of his sudden hunger. His fingers crept higher under my cotton blouse then his hands circled to the braless front. A barely moan escaped me in anticipation of his touch.

  He brushed his thumbs over the tips of my hard nipples, shooting fire into my pelvis and lower stomach. “Yes,” I whispered as his lips made their way down my neck.

  His hands lowered to my sides then slid over my hips and thighs. I gasped when he parted my knees and drew his head back to watch as he spread my legs wide.

  I dug my fingers into the soft leather of the couch on either side of me, heart racing like I’d never been touched before.

  He lifted my right leg and placed my foot on the couch then did the same with my left, his eyes riveted on my pussy. He groaned and slid the pink panties aside and his brows narrowed with need as my own escaped in soft whimpers and tiny grunts.

  The tip of his finger twirled its way into my moist heat and found my clit. He exhaled sharp as he slowly and softly caressed it with gentle circles.

  “Johnny,” I moaned, meeting his delicate touch with tiny thrusts.

  “Fuck, I love when you say my name while feeling good.” He kept exact pace, making it so hot right on the tip. “Making you feel good is like…my greatest accomplishment.”

  Ten seconds of that and he had me panting and squirming.

  He watched my face while working his other finger inside me. Watched my mouth open wider, my agony grow stronger.

  “Look at you, how beautiful.”

  Oh God, I was already there. “Johnny,” I gasped.

  His finger moved in and out in long slow strokes, his touch on my clit still exact. “You’re like a live painting to me…a canvas…” He flicked his finger deep and groaned. “Making love to you, watching you feel good…feels l
ike…I’m creating a masterpiece.“

  “Please. Please make love to me. Now.”

  He leaned in and kissed me with the same teasing perfection he administered to my clit. I finally grabbed his face and drove my tongue in his mouth. “Fuck me Johnny. Right now.”

  He actually growled in my mouth. “Make me.”

  Desire at a lethal level in my blood gave me the courage I needed to answer that challenge. But my orgasm was so close. I wanted it now. I grabbed his wrist and pumped his finger in and out of me faster. With my other hand I rolled my nipple and let my head fall back.

  “Fuck yes,” he gasped, cooperating. “Do it baby, come for me, all over my finger. And then I’m going to make you suck my cock.”

  I screamed my orgasm, his words sending me over the edge. He took over, jabbing his finger nice and deep and oh so fast while I bucked and thrashed right there under his hand, arching my back while flicking my finger over my nipple.

  Breathing through the aftermath, I slitted my eyes and was met with Johnny’s huge cock in my face. “Suck me,” he demanded.

  My stomach flipped at the sound in his voice, the hard need in it. I slowly looked up the line of his body. “Make me.”

  His fingers latched into my hair at the back and he pressed his cock on my mouth. “Open.” He groaned, rubbing his head firmly on my lips.

  I gasped and opened wide, watching his eyes roll shut as he pushed his cock deep into my mouth with nearly a roar.

  I grabbed the base of him and squeezed tight, working my mouth over his cock fast and furious, licking his head in a frenzy before devouring again. Twenty seconds of that and his fingers pulled in my hair, holding me back. He suddenly grabbed my waist and turned me.

  I held the top of the couch and looked back right as his cock plunged into me deep. I threw my head back in ecstasy and Johnny’s fingers latched into my hair again, his other hand gripping my shoulder tight. He bucked his hips and fucked me with a relentless abandon, making me scream from the intensity. Scream his name and yes, yes, God yes, over and over. He finally roared his climax into me, his pelvis pressing my ass hard, like he couldn’t shoot his cum deep enough.