Dark Moon

by Victoria Wakefield

  “I know you’re not,” I said.

  “And,” Michael continued, “if you ever feel like I’m going too fast, just tell me to stop. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” He paused. “I have to admit, I was hoping you’d want to stay tonight, to let me make love to you, but we should wait until you’re ready. I would never want you to have any regrets.”

  “I won’t,” I said quickly. “I want this. Tonight. I knew I wanted it before I even got here today. I brought an overnight bag.”

  “If you’re certain?”

  “One hundred percent positive,” I assured him.

  “Have you eaten lunch yet?” Michael asked me.

  “No.”

  “Let’s go for a walk, stop and get a bite,” he suggested. “I could easily stay here all day, holding you in my arms, but it’s beautiful outside.”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  Michael showed me around his apartment before we left. His bedroom was huge, with a king size bed. “That’s where the magic happens,” he joked. Like the main room, it was simply, elegantly styled with modern black furniture.

  The balcony he’d told me about was off of his bedroom. It was large enough for a small table and four chairs. “The view is incredible!” I exclaimed.

  “It’s why I chose to live downtown,” Michael answered. He pulled me in for a quick kiss. “Let’s go.”

  We spent the next couple of hours walking around, sitting by the river, and eating lunch on the patio of a bistro.

  “What an incredible afternoon,” I said when we got back to his apartment.

  Michael poured us each another glass of wine. “I think I’m falling in love with you.” Michael’s face turned a dark red. “Jesus Christ, did I really just say that out loud?”

  My heart was racing. “I think I’m falling in love with you, too,” I whispered.

  We started kissing. I could never get enough of his lips, his touch. Once again I found myself stripped down to my underwear, his mouth all over my body. Michael was wearing sexy fitted boxers, bulging and hard because he was so turned on. I started to pull them down.

  “Wait, wait,” Michael said between kisses. He pulled away, laughing.

  “I’m ready,” I told him. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  Michael started to protest again, but the look in my eye must have stopped him. Wordlessly, we got up off the couch to go to his bedroom. He pulled the curtains over the balcony door closed and got something out of the nightstand drawer – a condom, I assumed. I was perched on the edge of the bed, heart racing.

  He started kissing me and I moved to lie down. Michael was straddling me. It was the first time I’d seen him naked, and the second time I’d ever seen any man naked. I reached out to touch him, and he moaned with pleasure.

  Michael effortlessly unhooked my bra and threw it to the side. Then he removed my panties. We were both completely undressed.

  He pressed his body against mine, but didn’t move to go inside me. I thought I was going to explode from the anticipation alone. “It might hurt,” he murmured in my ear.

  “I know,” I said.

  “This will help loosen you up.” Michael slipped his fingers inside of me. “You’re so tight, so incredibly sexy. Is this okay?” he asked.

  “It feels amazing,” I whispered back.

  Michael grinned. “I have to warn you, my cock is significantly bigger.”

  I pulled his body against mine, so that my breasts were pressed hard against his bare chest. “I promise I’m ready.”

  “Tell me if it hurts, Lana,” he said softly. “If you need me to stop.” He caressed my forehead, which was damp with sweat.

  I nodded. Michael started to push himself inside me. I could feel stretching, but it wasn’t painful. “Are you still doing okay?” He hadn’t inserted himself fully, not wanting to hurt me.

  “I’m more than okay.”

  With a moan of pleasure, he pushed himself all the way into me. I gasped and winced slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Once he was in, he stopped to let me get used to the sensation.

  Michael leaned down to kiss me. “I want to take it slow, for you to enjoy this.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. And then he started moving up and down on top of me, slowly at first, and then faster. Our breaths were shallow, rapid and I could hear myself moaning Michael’s name over and over.

  I lost track of all time, let myself completely go with the moment, not a thought in my mind. As I started to cum, I pulled him into me, so that he was as deep inside as possible.

  “Fuck, you’re sexy,” he groaned. “I’m so close.” And then Michael was moving inside me again, faster, and he was breathing heavily. With a final moan of pleasure, I could feel him explode inside of me.

  He leaned down to kiss me deeply, breathlessly. We were both laughing nervously.

  “You’re amazing, Lana,” he said. “You’ve got no idea.” He propped himself up on his elbow to look down at me.

  “That was so surreal,” I said.

  “Are you in pain?” His face turned serious.

  “I might be a little sore,” I admitted, “but it was worth it. I can’t even begin to explain how good it felt to have you inside of me.”

  Michael looked relieved. “Let me hold you.” He went the bathroom to get rid of the condom. I rolled onto my side and pulled the covers around my shoulders, shivering even though the room wasn’t cold. I was in a daze, not sure I could completely comprehend what had just happened. But I did know one thing: I would never regret it.

  He returned and got under the covers next to me, pulling my naked body to his and holding me around the waist. We didn’t speak, but it was a comfortable silence. I could tell from Michael’s steady breathing that he had dozed off. I was exhausted as well, and easily drifted into a happy sleep.

  ###

  I woke up with a jolt, confused by the bed that wasn’t mine, trying to remember where I was. It only took a few seconds for all of it to come back to me. I stretched and rolled over to look at Michael, but he wasn’t next to me in bed.

  There was no clock and my phone was in my purse in the other room, but I could tell the sun had set because there wasn’t any light coming in around the edges of the curtains.

  Although my underwear and bra were in his bedroom, my jeans and shirt were somewhere in the other room. I stood up, pulling the sheet with me, and wrapped it around my naked body.

  Michael wasn’t in the main room, but I could hear clanging in the kitchen. When I got to the doorway, he was stirring something in a pot. He was wearing baggy black pants but hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on. I stared at him, taking in the full effect of his muscular body.

  “Hey,” I finally said.

  Michael turned around and a smile lit up his face. “Hey, yourself, Sleepyhead,” he said affectionately, walking over to kiss me.

  “Sorry,” he said apologetically, turning his attention back to the stove. “I don’t want this to burn.”

  “What time is it?” I asked him.

  “Just past seven,” he replied. “I hated to leave you alone, but I figured I’d better start dinner.”

  “Need any help?” I offered, walking towards him.

  “No, just relax, babe.”

  I sat down in a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll just watch you work, then,” I said.

  “You should go grab one of my shirts,” Michael suggested. “I know you have a change of clothes in your car, but you’ll need those for tomorrow, right? What time is your first class?”

  “Nine,” I said, “but I have to swing by my dorm room first. I don’t have my books or laptop.” I groaned. “Don’t mention tomorrow; I don’t want tonight to ever end.”

  I walked over to the stove. “What are you making?”

  “Spaghetti and meatballs with homemade tomato sauce.”

  “It smells delicious,” I said. “And I do want to get one of your shirts. Would you mind if I took a shower first?”

 
“Of course not, but I hope you don’t…regret what happened earlier.”

  “No way,” I assured him. “I just feel a bit sweaty, like I’ve had a long workout at the gym.”

  Michael laughed. “I wish I could join you,” he said, pulling me in for a kiss.

  “Me, too.”

  “You can take any shirt you want,” Michael called as I headed to get a shower. “Top drawer on the left.”

  I turned on the tap, adjusted the temperature and stepped into the hot shower. I didn’t like the feeling that I was washing Michael off of me, but I knew I’d get to touch him again soon. And I really was sweaty.

  When I got out, I wrapped the towel around myself and headed for Michael’s bedroom. I chose a plain black t-shirt that hung down to my thighs. It felt a little strange not wearing underwear. Maybe I can ask Michael to get my backpack out of the car.

  I walked into the kitchen. Michael was sitting at the square table, sipping a glass of red wine. The room was dim, and he’d lit the candles that were on a shelf on the wall. “I’m disappointed,” he said when he saw me.

  “What?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest self-consciously.

  “I was hoping you’d pick a white shirt,” he said in a flirty voice, “so that I could see your body through it.”

  I laughed and walked over to where he was sitting. Michael motioned for me to sit on his lap.

  “No,” he said. “The other way around. Straddle me.”

  Heart racing, I spread my legs and planted them on either side of Michael, facing him.

  “Now that’s better.” We were kissing again; I couldn’t get enough of Michael and it was obvious that he felt the same way about me. He reached around under the oversized shirt and cupped my butt. Even though we had just had sex a few hours before, I could feel him getting hard again.

  He pulled away. “I’d better stir this,” he said reluctantly.

  “I can watch it. Would you mind getting my backpack out of my car? I wanted to put on underwear.”

  “You’re sexy without underwear,” he said, “but okay.”

  I walked to the living room to grab my purse, pulling both my phone and my keys out. I hadn’t looked at my phone for hours and it showed that I had three missed calls and four text messages. I would look at them in a minute.

  Back in the kitchen, I handed Michael my keys and started stirring the delicious smelling sauce while he went to the car. With my free hand, I looked at the text messages first. All of them were from Maryanne.

  How’s it going? the first one said. The next two had a note of concern. Please let me know you’re okay. You’ve only just met this guy. That one was a little irritating, but I could see her point. The last one she had sent around five p.m. said that if she didn’t hear from me she was going to call the hospital to try to get Michael’s number.

  Shit. I hope she hasn’t already done that. Two of the missed calls were from Maryanne, and the third was from my mom. She had been calling more frequently over the last few weeks, but I hadn’t called her back yet.

  My top priority was to text Maryanne. Sorry, everything is fine. I’m having a wonderful evening. Be back tomorrow morning before class. I hit send.

  Almost immediately Maryanne replied. Okay, thanks, have fun!

  She was probably miffed at me for making her worry, but what was the big deal? How well did she know the guys she hooked up with?

  Michael came back into the kitchen and set my backpack down on the floor. I pulled out my underwear and quickly slipped them on, acutely aware that Michael was watching me.

  When the food was ready, Michael clicked a remote and turned on low music in the background. I started to get up from the chair to help, but Michael held up his hand.

  He brought over the plates of food and topped up our red wine glasses. The dish looked and smelled incredible, and when I finally got to try it, I wasn’t disappointed. Michael was an excellent cook.

  “This is delicious,” I said. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

  “I didn’t start cooking until I was through with school,” Michael admitted. He shrugged. “I watched shows on TV, looked up recipes online. It wasn’t really that difficult.”

  “Well, you’re definitely a natural,” I told him. “Maryanne and I are terrible. We order takeout all the time.”

  “I did in college, too,” Michael replied. “Who has time to cook when every day is spent in class, studying or doing schoolwork?” He paused. “Hey, I’m not keeping you from work, am I?”

  “No,” I said. “I had been planning to get a jump start on one of my econ projects, but this is much more fun.”

  We chatted comfortably about our lives, our interests. I found out that Michael was an avid runner and had completed three marathons. Normally I don’t want to hear the details of other peoples’ lives, but with Michael, I wanted to hear everything.

  “I know this is a weird question,” I said, “but how on earth are you single?”

  He laughed. “I’m hesitant to get involved with a woman. I didn’t used to be so cynical, but I found that so many women only wanted to date me because I was going to become a doctor. You know, that clichéd fantasy of marrying a doctor and living happily ever after?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I can see that being an issue, but I don’t believe that’s the only reason they wanted to date you.” Michael was gorgeous and the most charming man I’d ever met.

  “I don’t know,” he said skeptically. “I’ve been burned before.”

  “What happened?”

  “I had a girlfriend while I was in med school. I thought she was the real thing, but later discovered she just liked telling everyone that her boyfriend was a doctor. Plus, she was cheating on me.”

  “What kind of idiot would cheat on you?” I blurted out.

  Michael grinned, raking his hands through his dark hair. “Let’s not talk about exes. All that matters is this moment.”

  He stood up and walked to the fridge. “Chocolate mousse for dessert,” he said, setting down a glass between us.

  “I’m stuffed!” I exclaimed. “But I really can’t resist chocolate. Is this homemade?”

  “Yes, but don’t be too impressed. It’s an easy dessert to make,” he said.

  Michael fed me a bite. It was fluffy and delicious. He leaned in to kiss me. “You taste like chocolate,” he teased.

  We were sitting next to each other at the small table. Michael pulled my chair closer to his. I fed him a bite of the mousse before we started kissing again. We continued kissing and eating.

  In no time we were more intent on each other than the dessert. The soft kisses became more demanding. I slid my hand between Michael’s legs and he groaned. “I love it when you touch me,” he said.

  His hands were under my shirt, touching every inch of my skin. “Michael, I want you so badly,” I said softly.

  “Are you too sore from earlier?” he asked me.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Stay here.” Michael stood up. He went to the bedroom for a condom.

  When he got back, he grabbed my hand to pull me upright and walked over to the sink. Wordlessly, Michael lifted me up so that I was sitting on the counter.

  He leaned in close to my ear, his husky voice barely above a whisper. “I showed you how to make love earlier; now I want to show you how to fuck.”

  His words sent shivers up and down my spine. Michael pulled my panties off in one motion. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Tell me if it’s too rough.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. Michael easily pushed himself inside me. With one hand behind my head so that it didn’t bang into the cabinets, he moved in and out of me. It was fast, aggressive. I liked it. I wrapped my legs around his waist and put my hands on his hips, pulling him back and forth.

  “I’m really close,” he moaned. Michael stepped back.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He gave me a wicked grin. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.
” And for the second time that day, Michael’s head was between my legs. I writhed in pleasure. He reached up, touching my hard nipples. After I had cum, he kissed my thighs softly.

  I was breathing heavily. “You’re so sexy,” he said, going back inside me, moving forward and backwards, pounding into me.

  “Fuck me,” I heard myself saying. And then Michael was cumming again, pulling my body against his and making a sexy grunting sound.

  “That was crazy,” he said, struggling to catch his breath.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. Michael took me by the waist and lifted me off the counter.

  “Sorry if I got a little carried away.” Michael seemed so vulnerable after we had sex.

  “Don’t be silly,” I told him.

  “I guess I’d better clean up this mess,” he said reluctantly.

  “I’ll help,” I offered.

  “No, I’ll do it. Do you want to watch a movie or something? I have a bunch of DVDs in the cabinet by the TV.”

  “Alright, I’ll take a look.” I picked my underwear up off the floor. They were soaked. No way I was putting those back on.

  Michael was staring at me. “You were so wet,” he said. I looked away. “Hey,” he said softly, “touching my cheek. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s a huge turn on. I just can’t believe I have that effect on you.”

  I smiled. “You drive me absolutely insane,” I said honestly.

  I turned to go check out his DVD selection. He slapped my ass playfully.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were cuddled up on the couch, a big blanket covering us. I was lying on my side, with my head on Michael’s lap, and he was stroking my hair affectionately. I had picked ConAir, which I had seen a million times.

  We watched the movie in silence, but I wasn’t paying much attention. I closed my eyes, breathing in his intoxicating scent. I was struggling to stay awake. About halfway through the movie, Michael shook me lightly.

  “Hey, you want to go to bed?” he asked me. He laughed. “We both keep falling asleep.”

  “Sure,” I said, sitting up. I was exhausted, and practically fell into bed after brushing my teeth. Michael slept on his back and I nestled into the crook of his arm, going to sleep almost immediately.