by Ryli Jordan
I wasn’t thrilled at the idea, but I figured maybe enough time had passed so that Ken and I could be in the same room without it being awkward. At least…that was my hope.
I smiled nervously as Sal and I entered the restaurant and it was indeed packed wall to wall with droves of satisfied customers. The art on the wall was particularly interesting, surreal paintings, gothic walls and of course, the handsome face of Knox himself right at the entrance. The waiters were friendly, unlike their inspiration, and the cooks even came out to wave hello to the customers, right after preparing a new dish.
But what really caught my eye was the menu.
Colored a subtle shade of pink and white, the text was very easy to read and eye catching. Sal loved the calligraphy inside the menu, whereas I was more intrigued by Knox’s choice of entrees.
I decided I wasn’t hungry—since my stomach was in knots at the idea of seeing Knox unexpectedly and having no notion of what to say—but I figured I should try something. If nothing else, so I could leave a glowing Yelp review with a solid four stars.
But then something struck me hard and left an awful punch right in my throat. Not a shot of whiskey, and not a little touch of poison. But it was a menu item that rocked me to the core. I flinched away tears as I read the dessert entrees, including the highlighted selection…
Staci-Belle.
He remembered. He remembered the little conversation we had, about my unofficial nickname Staci-Belle. My stopped and I had to swallow my grief and request a moment of silence—indicated by raising my hand to Sal—as I began to read the description.
Staci-Belle: It tastes like your childhood. That moment of innocence when you first tasted cake and ice cream. The feeling of the weekend when mom or dad let you stay home and eat your favorite foods. You weren’t just tasting the frosting…you were tasting the best moments of your life. A simpler time, a dream you had, a future that could have been yours.
Sal stared at me in awe, wondering why I was fighting tears and holding back my tongue.
“I’ve heard that it’s so good you have to sit down just to digest it!” he said. “But if the descriptions are that good…you know the food is going to be out of this world!”
I had enough. I couldn’t avoid Knox any longer. I had no idea what I would say to him, but I decided that depriving him of the closure he needed just wasn’t right. The man wasn’t just inspired by me, I was his muse. I felt like Mona Lisa. Like the secret lover of a future king or a creative genius. I missed that feeling of being adored.
I needed to see Ken’s face and to tell him…God knows what. That I pitied him? No, that I was in awe of him? Why did he like me that much? What made me special to him? Why was he so convinced I was the one that got away?
I knocked at his door the next evening, sighing in worry, but strangely comforted by the familiar site. I remembered the city house and the nice neighborhood, not to mention the fine quality of carpentry and construction. The courtyard, the circular driveway and the floor to ceiling windows. For all its top quality design, the house—just a one-story townhouse was remarkably quaint and rustic.
Knox looked out through the window and did a double take. He looked star-struck—as if I was the celebrity and he was the one seeking the autograph. He smiled in mild amusement as he excitedly opened the door.
I was wearing a pastel pink, V-neck dress, it had been one of his favorites on our “fuck days” and he couldn’t help but notice how good I looked.
“Hi Ken. May I co-”
Before I could finish talking, he gave me a tall, strong and sweeping embrace. Uninhibited, free and filled with desire, he reached for me kissing my lips passionately. I hardly thought it through but resisting didn’t even cross my mind. I closed my eyes as his tongue ravaged my mouth. I wanted nothing more but for him to finish his thought.
It felt like surrender, as if I had been holding back so much from him. When he took me in his hands, caressing my face with his strong grip, I hummed. I was tired of resisting. Tired of making excuses for why I had to follow my attraction, to let him lead me into new places of desire I had scarcely traveled. I lost all track of time and place as Knox slammed the door behind me, the outside breeze followed me in, tickling my cheeks and neck.
Sighing into his mouth, I lost my cool as I stared into his hungry blue eyes, realizing that I was further complicating both of our lives. But as he guided his hands down my shoulders, and then rested his arms on my hips, hugging me so soft and smooth…I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be his muse, to inspire him. And yes, I wanted to be his living work of art.
He kissed me ravenously, varying each one between gentle gliding and sucking my lower lip, making my head spin.
My heart raced, feeling the inevitability of everything. He wanted me, wanted me always, and right now, I wanted him. Here, now. God, everything was happening so fast – I wanted him but felt too afraid to even tell him.
He took me by the hand and led me back inside the house—the vision of the future, ripping our clothes off and doing what we both wanted.
He turned me around roughly and kissed me again, grabbing hold of my back and pulling me in close. I threw my arms around him and welcomed him anywhere he wished.
My mind was racing as his tongue pressed against mine, the taste of his mouth like a fine chocolate – the man was physically perfect. And damn, seeing him and knowing we were back together made me emotionally reckless.
I couldn’t kiss him fast enough and he couldn’t hold me any tighter…we were kissing so passionately; we stumbled all over the hallway, gasping for air.
“I want you now, I missed you so much Staci-Belle,” his kisses melted on my neck so sweet and hot. “But I’m out of condoms. Believe me baby I’m clean.”
I knew he was out because the last time we had sex we used the last one weeks ago.
“I’m clean too and I take the birth control shot.”
I felt great relief, succumbing to what I denied myself. His house was just as I remembered it and the bedroom was always quickly accessible. I locked onto his eyes and walked southward—he followed, already tasting more of my lips.
We kissed hard and soft, long and lingering, even before we hit the bed. He ran his hand through my hair, while rubbing my side, down to my hips.
My body trembled as I felt heat emanate from my pores. We broke the embrace just so he could reach over with his hands and pull my dress over my head.
He unfastened the two loops at the back of my bra and pulled so hard he ripped part of the material. But I didn’t care, it was all I could do to French kiss him and stop myself from grunting.
His lips all over me, my excited breaths tickled his face as he reached my chest. His warm lips caressed my shoulders, sinking down to my breasts.
I lay back on the bed and squealed as he crawled on top of me, pinning me down with his strong body and putting fervent lips on my breasts, my stomach, my ribs and my hips…everywhere, every last exotic taste of what he craved.
As eager as he was to devour my uncovered skin, he came back to my lips and straddled over my body as he unbuttoned his shirt. I sat back and stirred with anticipation, watching him undo buttons and show more of his chiseled chest with each moment.
He opened his shirt and let me kiss and taste him, gnawing on his body with the same insatiable lust, as he tasted me. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it away, leaning back on me so that our skin could touch and soothe each other. My whole body vibrated as I felt his half-naked mass on top of me, my voice out of breath, and internally, crying out his name.
My hands were restless and stroked his tight abs as he unfastened his pants, watching me in spellbound desire. My own excitement sizzled as I watched him strut and strip, so confident, and only because he was with me—his beloved, captive audience.
My head collided with the pillow, repeatedly, as he began nibbling at my panties. Taking his time, he kissed me all over the fabric, then underneath on the surface of the white lace. A jol
t went through my body, as I admitted to myself that I wore my outfit for him—in the unlikely event we would be intimate together. I wore white for him, because whatever this was, I wanted us both to feel love. And my panties, my god, my panties, the thought of him drooling all over them turned me on and made tingle in every orifice.
I was getting wet from all his kisses down below and gripped the bed sheets in boiling over passion. I giggled in mad, throaty embarrassment, as surprised as he was that my emotions spilled out everywhere, all over him. The thought of his preparing me, tasting me, turning me into a living work of art only made me feel more frantic. I didn’t want to make love for hours, I wanted him now—wanted us to both come hard and unleash all the emotional blocks that kept us apart.
Just as I let him pull my panties down, I decided to trade places. I got up and pushed him back down on the bed, quickly pinning him with my legs, and shoving his biceps down with my hands. He was wearing gray boxers. I grabbed his cock and stretched him out, enjoying the sensation of his throbbing member growing in my hand. He was so hard and I couldn’t wait for him to go deep inside me.
Knox panted, “Staci, sit on my face. I have to taste that pussy.” I bit my lip with joy. My clit started throbbing like mad. I happily obliged sitting on his face. I leaned forward, grabbing the base of his cock, greedily inhaling the head into my mouth.
I crawled carefully atop the master, the celebrity, the star. The man so special that he could have anyone he wanted—but he only craved me. I pushed him inside me and shrieked; shutting my eyes, realizing he was going so deep and there was still more to go.
Riding his cock slowly at first, I rocked back and forth as I balanced on his chest. My eyes and hands explored his, feeling the strength of his bare chest. He pulled my bra cups down to feel my full quivering breasts.
I rode him harder and faster, losing control of my breathing. Inside, I flooded him while clenching his cock tighter. Not only was I in control, I was punishing him in a pleasurable way he dare not protest. Every time I crashed down on him, I moaned. Last time we were together, he was so strong, so restrained…this time, he could hardly contain himself. This time, he wasn’t expecting it…he was all mine.
I groaned loudly, matching Knox’s own escaping excitement, this time gripping his hands and holding on. Our bodies were so deeply connected, and he was so fucking huge, I couldn’t imagine how we were going to escape this moment—he couldn’t pull out of me if he tried. And I wanted him to finish. Inside me, pounding me with everything and then breaking inside me.
I was fucking him, not the other way around—loving the sounds of his surrendering to me, his shaky voice, his whole body flexing, his involuntary urge to get away and stop the intense agony of a real cock mauling.
“Knox, Yes! Yes!” I screamed as my senses exploded and I saw only him, felt only the nerve endings in my pussy, nothing at all from my mind or my heart, which were in reverent silence. Never before had I been this stimulated and filled. The thrill of fucking him on top as he grabbed my hips and pushed me down on his cock was exhilarating.
Knox grunted as he shifted out of position without thinking. He moved so powerfully, he brought himself forward flipping me over.
I was still riding him hard, not daring to end my domination of him. But I couldn’t override his powerful thrusts. Loving the feeling of him resisting, as he tried to gain back the edge, I smiled in expectation—all his resistance only guaranteed he would come inside me faster.
He hugged me in his arms. I held on as he shoved himself deeper inside and I continued riding him, exhausting my legs and arms. But I didn’t feel any resistance towards the end…just our attraction, just our visceral connection to each other. This was what I felt every time I saw Kenneth Free—the real man, not his idiotic persona. I wanted him so badly and the answer to every disagreement, every doubt I had, was for him to fuck the ambivalent emotions right out of me.
I shoved his panting face into my breasts and held him by his hair. We were both ready to come. Would we come together or would one of us have the luxury of watching the other flutter out of control?
But as I felt his cock tightening and felt his hot breath panting more vigorously, I began to see stars and my skin felt electric. I let myself go, ashamed that I couldn’t hold on a minute longer. I cried out to heaven, thrusting my head back and prying my eyes shut. My orgasm hit hard and he grabbed a handful of my hair, taking hold of my scalp. Caressing my head, he could feel every thrust, every shake of my lower body. My lower half bucked and shuddered, sending a rising surge from my pussy to my heart to my stomach and throat—and rising higher to the top of my head.
Just as I was processing having coming so hard, Knox shattered inside of me, erupting his seed the deepest he’s even gone, letting go of all his angst, all his regrets, all his fucking manhood—everything he was—inside of me.
We held each other tightly for several moments—damn near close to two minutes—until our bodies and souls stopped convulsing. The adrenaline rush crashed and the mollifying effects poured over us, leaving us in a giggling stupor.
We finally managed to unlatch ourselves, falling over on the bed and gasping for life—he still draped in wet boxers, me with my breasts pushed out and wet from my sweat and his thirsty lips.
He fell first to the bed, the both of us exhausted.
We exhaled deeply together, our arms entangled and our bodies inching together as we lay side by side.
“Why did you come here?” he said, grinning as she gazed into my eyes.
“Nothing funny,” I said with a laugh. “Just business.”
“I’m relieved you came here just to get laid. I was afraid for a moment you might want to be fed.”
“Not hungry. Not anymore,” I said, rolling my fingers through his silky blond hair. “I had a chance to see your new restaurant. Another client of mine raved about it.”
“Ah. And what did you think?”
“I was a bit distracted by the menu. You…you named a dessert after me, didn’t you?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Well…I mean, why? Ken? You knew I would see it…”
“I didn’t know that. But to ask a creative person why is to neglect the entire principle of art. I am inspired, I create. I remembered what you said, about your nickname. How it was a childhood memory that you hold dear. And I thought about everything.”
“I thought about everything too.”
“I was hoping you would…” He trailed off. I watched his narrowed glaze. For once, it looked like Knox was out of words to say.
“I did.”
I smothered my face all over his chest and listened to his heartbeat. I rested on his hulking chest and traced the strong lines of his face with my hands. If only we could both stay like this…I’m sure it’s what he was thinking too. In addition, what I wanted so much.
“So…not to spoil the euphoric moment, and ask stupid questions when a naked woman rests beside me, was this just for old time’s sake?”
“I wasn’t mad at you, Ken. Well…maybe a little, at first.”
“Most people’s reaction when they meet me.”
“I just got scared.”
“I figured. In addition, I was willing to wait for you. I still am, Staci-Belle.”
“Thank you…I hope I was worth the wait.”
“You’re worth everything, every second of spent time. You are rare Staci and I meant what I said at the gala. You’re an exotic spice the world doesn’t have nearly enough of. I want you all to myself.”
I swooned as I took his fingers in mine, still loving the feeling of his pulse going through my own skin.
When someone is fragile in heart, the last thing she wants is a hulking monster of a man, cerebrally and physically, telling her what’s what. I had my own issues to work through. But once I saw what a gentle giant Knox could be, I realized that sometimes it’s all worth the risk. We have to be strong in life…but we don’t always have to be cynical. For the
time being, I was happy. I grew tired of not trusting Knox for no other reason than what could be wrong. This was blissful. Just short of paradise. In a perfect world, maybe love would feel something like this.
***
We both approached the idea of “being exclusive” cautiously, he as much as I did, perhaps even more. Knox planned our first “back together” trip, and the last thing he wanted to do was cook for me after I raked him over the coals for knowing me too well. Instead, we decided to enjoy the hospitality of others for a change. We took a flight to Honolulu, a place where Ken particularly enjoyed learning about cuisine years ago. He considered it a very romantic setting, with Waikiki Beach, surfing and canoeing and the mai tais served with live music. We watched the sunset over Diamond Head, for a brief moment, worrying about nothing…
No responsibilities, no obligations, no hurt feelings or demands. Just coexisting peacefully. Was this the real Knox, the real Kenneth? Was this an act or was he just naturally peaceful when he got what he wanted? Or was I really all that he wanted or would ever want?
As if hearing my internal questions, he would reach over and stroke my hair and the side of my face. When he looked into my eyes, the moonlight reflecting in his own, he didn’t make promises. He reassured me for the moment. “I’m here with you now. This is all that matters.”
And it was all that mattered. If life could be as simple as this, why wouldn’t I want to fall in love again? I adored the man’s simplicity and was attracted to his complications.
We decided to stop for dinner in Oahu, an isolated and quiet region with vivid moonlight. He was interested in one particular restaurant, Hot Cabana Boy (nicely named!) and offered to order something for me. I was surprised at how much I liked the meal. A masa toro with caviar roll, an eight-piece roll combining tuna, caviar and crisper buttery brioche. The dessert was also dazzling, with a three layer cinnamon pumpkin crust center and whipped cream topping.
