by Mika Lane
Fuck, yeah.
He sucked one and pinched the other, then switched sides, driving me mad with the sensation of pleasure and pain. I leaned back onto the counter with my hands behind me, my head falling back, giving him all the access he needed to make me feel so fucking good, I thought I might cry.
“How you doin’, baby?” he murmured.
“Good…” I whispered. “So good…”
“Yeah? You mind if I have a little taste of your pussy?” he growled.
Holy shit, if I hadn’t been sitting on my ass, I would have fallen over. I had to nod in agreement, because I couldn’t say a fucking word. He helped me down from the counter. I kicked off my sneakers, and he lowered my leggings until I’d pulled my feet out of them. All he left behind were my pink panties and little footie socks.
This time, he lifted me and brought me to the sofa in his living room. But instead of sitting, we walked around to the back of it, where he bent me forward. I gripped the soft cushions on the sofa as he positioned my ass up high and spread my legs as far apart as he could.
I didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and I didn’t care.
While positioned behind me, he whispered his fingers over my throbbing core, with only the lace of my panties keeping him away from my searing flesh. I wiggled into his touch to increase his pressure and to also let him know I wanted more. Yeah, more.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and with agonizing slowness, he brought my legs back together to peel them off my ass, down past my thighs, and over my feet. He pushed my legs apart once again, exposing my most private parts. A soft groaned sounded behind me.
It was nasty, and naughty, and I loved it.
His hands smoothed over my ass, when he pried me open to reach my pussy and tongued me from clit to ass and back.
Carter’s finger then pushed into my slit. I nearly screamed as he curled it inside me in a come here motion. While he did that, I felt his lips on my ass cheeks where he planted tiny little kisses that got closer and closer to my…Wow. He was really going there. Oh. My. God.
His tongue tickled my ass—yes, my ass. And I couldn’t believe how fucking great it felt. One finger in my pussy, and his tongue on my ass. How come I never knew about this before?
From my inverted position, I dug my hands into the sofa cushions for the leverage I needed to buck my hips in time to his strokes. My nipples got rock-hard, and my entire body broke out in goose bumps. My breath rasped, and my whimpering grew. I was in a goddamn mind-blowing free fall. He pressed harder until my asshole opened just a little for his tongue. I screamed.
An orgasm I didn’t see coming hit me like a truck.
My head thrashed, and I could only guess that all the noise in the room was coming from me. I slapped my hands against the sofa cushions while he continued to work my backside and finger fuck me at the same time. He was relentless, dragging me through my orgasm until I thought I might pass out.
When I stopped thrashing, he pulled me to standing, holding me in support against my shaking legs, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“How you feeling, gorgeous?” he asked.
“Goo…ood. Yeah…good.” As my senses came back, I rotated in his arms to face him. I looked up to his sparkling eyes, and he smiled at me, showing off those damn dimples.
“Do you…do you have a condom?” I sputtered. I wasn’t done with this guy yet. Not by a long shot.
I was being a hussy. Making up for lost time. Shelle would be proud.
“Yeah, baby.” He sat me on the sofa and disappeared for a minute. When he returned, he stood before me, still wearing clothes. I was the only one naked, except for my socks. I stood to pull his shirt over his head, and when I did, holy shit—that guy been hiding some muscles from me and all the women of the world.
I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of his jogging pants. He raised his arms out to the sides as high as his shoulders and closed his eyes. I guessed that was his way of saying do what you want with me.
And I planned to.
I lowered his pants and boxers until they fell in a puddle around his feet. His erect cock bounced against my tummy, but I didn’t look. I wanted to watch his beautiful face. I reached for his hard-on and found my hand would not even wrap all the way around it. Jesus, and I was about to fuck that monster?
He took my hand and pulled me up, taking the seat on the sofa I had just occupied. In a split second, he had the condom open, rolling it over his erection. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me forward, putting one of my knees on either side of him. His cock hovered just under my opening. He was in no hurry.
“You have such great tits, Jayma,” he murmured, taking turns kissing them.
Then he stopped and looked at me. “Ready?”
I answered only with my smile.
One of his hands held his cock still, and with the other, his fingers gently pried me open. I felt pressure at my opening, and bounced lightly on him while I got used to his girth. He was fucking huge, stretching me to capacity, and then stretching me some more. He rocked his hips to get more deeply inside me, and I threw my head back and moaned.
I had no idea what I was doing with this gorgeous neighbor of mine. But there’d be time to worry about that later.
Right now, I wanted to get fucked.
And I was about to be. Seriously.
Carter rocked his hips up toward my opening, this time, burying the remaining thick inches of his cock. We both cried out, his dick filling me perfectly. I was so wet I could feel myself spilling on him, my juices running down his balls and probably to the sofa underneath.
Nothing a little soap and water wouldn’t cure.
“Come for me,” he growled. “Come, baby. I want to feel you squeeze my cock with your tight little pussy.” His muscles clenched and he gripped my ass with his strong hands, pistoning me up and down his length until his jaw tightened and his face turned into a grimace.
He drove into me over and over. One last time, and he swelled inside me even bigger. I screamed again, an orgasm sending white heat through my body, leaving every nerve on fire. He joined me by roaring through his release, pumping me a couple more times until we collapsed into each other, both gasping for breath, and loving our temporary escape from the real world.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, running his hands through the mess that was my hair.
“Hey, Carter?” I asked.
“Yeah, Jayma?”
“I’m starving. Is that chicken still available?”
Chapter 12
TANNER
I was hoping Jayma had been smiling all morning because she was looking forward to our lunch. Or maybe there was another reason, like the foreclosure on her house—which she had no idea I knew about—had been resolved in her favor.
Whatever it was, she was glowing with some kind of happiness, which boded well for our time together.
I swung by her desk to say hi after my latest tampon meeting. I needed something to take my mind off my coworkers’ cycles. Ugh.
She was on the phone when I entered the lobby, probably taking a message from one of my clients—they called constantly. I glanced down at the place where that letter had been, the one about her foreclosure, but it had been put away somewhere, out of view of nosy people like myself. She peeked up at me from her call and smiled, that adorable spray of freckles coming to life, just like her sparkly brown eyes. Raising one finger in the wait a moment gesture, she turned back to her call, typing a message into her PC before clicking her headset to off.
“Well, look who it is,” she said with her sly grin. Shit, she just killed me. She flipped that red hair back over her shoulder, and I felt a twitch in my pants. I could not deny it. I had jacked myself twice thinking of how I hoped I’d get to grab that hair one day, and hold on for the—
“Tanner? Tanner, are you all right?” She wore a confused look on her face.
“Oh! Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. Sorry, my mind was wandering, thin
king about…um, work. You know how that is.” Christ. Down, boy.
“So, lunch. I cannot wait—” she started, just as the phone rang again. She mouthed I’m sorry and turned back to her computer, ready to type whatever the caller had to say. I slunk back to my desk.
Finally, at noon, I peeked around the corner into my boss Marilyn’s office. Papers were spread all over her desk. Clearly, she was up to her neck in something. I scooted past her door before she could see me and call me in to talk.
I had to do that sometimes.
Jayma was standing by the office’s front door with her bag in hand and an intern sitting in her spot to handle calls. When she saw me, her face lit up.
Damn, I liked that.
“Okay. Let’s go,” I said. We were just going out to lunch as friends, so there was no need to worry about any office gossip.
Regardless, I’d made a reservation at the restaurant we’d discussed, a happening place not far from the office, famous for being in one of the oldest buildings in all of San Francisco. It was stunning, with exposed brick and lots of heavy wood trim.
“Oh my gosh. I have wanted to come here for so long. This is awesome,” Jayma said as I held the door for her.
She followed the hostess to our seats, providing me the opportunity to walk behind her and admire her slim black skirt and sky-high fuck me pumps. Made me glad I was wearing a suit jacket to hide, my um...admiration.
“This menu looks delish,” Jayma said as she looked up just in time to see several plates of food go by.
She set her menu aside and gave her order to the waiter.
“So,” she said.
“Yes?” I said. Seemed she had something on her mind.
There was that goddamn smile again. And the freckles…
“Do you ever do anything besides work?”
This is what she had on her mind?
“I fit in some exercise every now and then. You’ve seen me. Remember?” Why was I feeling defensive? Was it because I knew she had a point?
“Yes, I do. So, I’m guessing you work late, jog, sleep, and then get up and do it all over again the next morning?”
Shit. I didn’t expect lunch to be an interrogation. And to think I’d fantasized about getting into her pants.
Was I that far off?
“You’re right,” I said, knowing that capitulation was the only way. I shook my head, all shame and sorrow.
She looked at me, head tilted as she sipped her Arnold Palmer. I was half-expecting her to pull out a note pad like a shrink.
“What’s behind all that?” she asked.
If this was what she wanted to talk about, I was going to work it.
“My family didn’t have much when we were kids. In fact, I was the first to go to college. As it is, I send money home to my mother. I guess you could say I have a lot of responsibility.” If she was going to ask, I was going to give it to her. The raw, painful truth of who Tanner Webb was.
“Wow,” she said, nodding. “I didn’t know that about you.”
“I know. Few people do. It’s really nobody’s business.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s not my business.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t mean it’s not your business. I just meant I don’t tell many people. But I don’t mind telling you. I don’t mind at all.”
Embarrassment crossed her face. Had I been too harsh?
“And what about you?” I asked. “You gonna share a secret or two with me?”
A funny look crossed her face. “Secret? I have no secrets.” She shrugged.
Now that was one huge lie.
“Fair enough,” I said. “So, if you’re free tonight, I have an idea about something fun to do.”
“Tonight? I thought this wasn’t a date.”
“This is not a date. But tonight could be.” I was nothing if not persistent.
“But…well…I thought…what did you have in mind?”
Ha. Progress.
“Swing dancing.”
“Swing dancing? You like swing dancing?” All levels of suspicion crossed her face.
“Actually, I’ve never tried it,” I said. “But it sounded like fun. And I can’t go alone. So you see, you’d be doing me a favor.”
“Uh huh,” she said. She was looking at me like I’d just told her I was Jesus.
“If I go alone, I’ll look like a loser.” I was all sincerity. Just a guy who wanted to swing dance. Happened every day, right?
Truthfully, I could give a shit about swing dancing. In fact, I dreaded it. But I heard chicks loved it. In fact, that they couldn’t resist it.
The waiter dropped off our plates. Jayma picked up her fork and flaked off a piece of salmon.
Well. I guess I could go with you,” she said with that sly smile that just killed me. “I do owe you and all since you got that asshole from accounting off my back.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Bingo. It’s really only fair.”
She shrugged. “All right, then.”
“Okay, awesome. And now that we’ve settled that, tell me about your ambitions for work.”
She set her fork down, suspicion replaced by seriousness. “I studied communications in college. And I’ve been interested in advertising for as long as I can remember. That’s why I took the job as receptionist. I’ve been doing it now for a couple years, but I hope I can move off the phones soon.”
“Well, if you’re lucky, you can join the tampon account,” I said with a laugh. I was still bitter I got stuck on that campaign. Wait ‘til we got a condom client someday. I’d get even with them then.
“Nah. I’m not really interested in that,” she said. “I’m more into consumables. You know, food and drink. In fact, one of my friends from college works for a small organic salad dressing company.”
“No kidding.” Geez, she was really laying the groundwork for success. I had to love that.
“Yeah. If I can bring them into the agency, that would be huge. I think I’d definitely get a promotion then.” The lady knew what she wanted.
“I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can.”
“Thank you. I plan to take you up on that.”
“So I have to tell you something.”
“Yes?” she said.
“I’d thought about asking you out for a while, even though I hardly knew you. I’m glad I finally did. Even if we are out just as friends.” I placed air quotes around friends.
She looked down at her salmon. Did I piss her off or embarrass her?
“Thank you,” she said, looking back up at me. “You’re right. This isn’t a date. But tonight, swing dancing—that could be a date. If you like.”
Booyah.
That sly little smile was back on her face, the perfect contrast to those innocent-looking freckles. I had a feeling this chick had a wild side. And I was going to meet that side of her sooner rather than later.
Like tonight.
Chapter 13
JAYMA
Well, I had to give Tanner credit for persistence. The truth was, I wanted to go out with him just as much (I think) as he wanted to go out with me. I’d been holding out thanks to the stupid old rule, don’t shit where you eat. But fuck it. I was a big girl, and if I wanted to see someone from work, then I would. I’d deal with the consequences later.
Plus, his nerdy glasses just about killed me.
I was a little tormented, I had to admit, about hanging out with him when I’d been with Carter just the night before. I was turning into quite the loose woman, but…to hell with it. I’d been a good girl all my life and look where that had gotten me. It was time to change things up.
And one of those changes could include becoming homeless.
Back at the office, I thanked Tanner—although I really would have liked to kiss or at least hug him—but I did need to be discreet in front of the intern at the front desk.
After work, Tanner and I grabbed an Uber across town to get to our swing dance
class. I had to say, I thought it was pretty hilarious he suggested we go. I mean, who would think a hunky guy like him wanted to learn an old-fashioned dance? But hey, I was game. I’d always wanted to try swing.
We arrived at Metronome, a converted warehouse in San Francisco’s Potrero Hill neighborhood. It looked like nothing from the outside, but once we were in, I realized it was set up like an old-school dance hall complete with glittery ball hanging from the ceiling.
“Hello!” a voice called from clear across the room. A little blonde woman in T-strap heels hustled over to us in a whoosh of blonde pin curls and swirling skirts.
“Hi, I’m Mel. Are you here for the swing class?” She looked so hopeful. If we hadn’t been there for her class, I would have lied and said yes, anyway.
“Yes. We’re told you’re the master. Teach us what you will,” Tanner said.
Her face lit up. “Follow me!” she said with pure glee.
She lined us up facing her and proceeded to show the class of about five couples the beginning steps of swing.
“Triple step, triple step, rock,” she chanted over and over. She said rock more like rrroooock to give us an extra beat to do some step back leaning thing. Seemed easy enough.
She turned the music on, playing this cool 1930’s or 40’s tune called String of Pearls. It had a great beat, and I was totally getting into it, dancing in place. Then she told us to grab our partners. Time for the real thing.
Only Tanner wasn’t quite ready for the real thing. I’d been so focused on learning my own steps, I’d not paid attention to him, even though he was right next to me.
Mel snapped her fingers and called, “Four, three, two, aaand triple step…”
I took a step forward, as I was supposed to. Tanner also took a step forward, causing us to crash into each other. See, he was supposed to step back. My foot ended up under his, where it was promptly stomped on.
Goddamn, that hurt.
“Try again, over there,” Mel called cheerfully. Everyone else in the class turned to see what was so bad that she had to holler instructions at us.
