Three Times the Charm

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Their simultaneous climax came with incredible speed and an explosion of fire. Carisa burned as her yearning began to reach intolerable levels. They strained until everything yielded and her body spasmed against his with release. Erotic echoes spun like whirlpools across her body, each delicious wave seizing her. She cried out, wordless, and he shut her up with a consuming kiss.

  Afterward, they basked in the rich moonlight, the brightness shimmering over the roses as if they’d entered an enchanted world. Its magic beams coated his dark hair with silver and touched their bodies with beauty. Alex joined her on the bench and nestled her against his body. He kissed her, leaving gentle little nuzzles along her neck, soft and loving.

  “Carisa, that was amazing,” he said after he’d gained his breath. “You’re a beautiful lady and I want you to know I seldom do more than kiss on the first date. I don’t know what came over me, but I liked it.”

  “I did, too,” Carisa told him. She’d been accused of being a prude, even a cock tease by some of her recent dates, but if the spark failed to burst into flame, she wasn’t one to work hard just to have an intimate encounter. “I don’t normally do this so soon, either.”

  “We’re a pair,” he said. “Let’s get dressed before another couple shows up.”

  Once clad, they walked back along the path to his car. Although Carisa still smelled roses, she caught a whiff of cum, too. Daphne might know, she thought, and she didn’t even care.

  Alex walked her all the way upstairs to the apartment door and kissed her again, this time with more restraint and tenderness. “I want to see you again, Carisa,” he told her. “Are you busy next Saturday night?”

  Her empty calendar loomed ahead, lonesome as an orphan child. “I think so,” she said with a smile.

  “Would you like to go to a silent film festival with me at the Orpheum tomorrow?” Alex asked. “I think they’re showing two Valentino pictures.”

  “I’d love to, thanks,” Carisa replied.

  “Then we have a date. I’ll pick you up around five, then.”

  “Sure.” She smiled as he made a fist and touched it to her chin, playful.

  “See you, Carisa, and thanks.”

  Carisa floated into the apartment, body sated and mind brimming with romantic notions. Dreams visited her sleep, sweet ones of roses and waltzes and Alex.

  Chapter Two

  On a whim, Carisa found a 1920’s style outfit at a retro clothing shop she often visited, and decided she’d buy it for her date with Alex. The green sheath-style dress boasted a long line of buttons down the front and a dropped waist. With a hemline above the knee, Carisa knew it dated to 1925 or 1926, when skirts shortened. A belt accented the lowered waist and a black bow tied into a jaunty knot at her throat. She found a matching black cloche hat and thought the ensemble flattered her. And Carisa hoped Alex found it attractive, too.

  “I love it,” Daphne cried when she saw Carisa dressed and ready to go out. Daphne wore a leather mini-skirt, fishnet stockings and boots for her date. “It’s so ‘you’, honey.”

  “Do you think Alex will like it?”

  Her best friend shrugged. “I don’t know, but he likes you.”

  Carisa thought so too and hoped he did even more. She resisted an urge to cross her fingers. “I’d like to think so.”

  Since their date, she’d replayed each moment over and over in her mind. So far, Alex ranked high. His understanding and acceptance of her lactose issue, sharing his own peanut allergy, and the dinner conversation would’ve been enough to delight her. Just those things made the evening worthwhile . . . and made Alex intriguing enough for her to want to know more.

  Add to that the romantic interlude at the park’s rose garden––and the mind-blowing, absolutely awesome sex––and Carisa found courage to hope for a real relationship.

  “He’s here,” Daphne sang out ten minutes later, and beat Carisa to the door. “Hi, Alex, come in.”

  He stepped into the apartment and stopped while both women stared. “Oh, like wow,” Daphne said. Carisa said nothing, struck speechless.

  Alex wore a fedora at a jaunty angle on his head. His dark hair was combed back, a la Rudolph Valentino. His neat pinstriped suit fit as if tailored to his tall, lean body.

  “I see you got your glad rags on, baby,” he said with a grin. “Let’s scram.”

  Carisa glared at Daphne. “You told him?”

  “I didn’t, I swear,” Daphne said, lifting up her fingers in the classic Scout’s Honor pose.

  She focused on Alex. “How did you know?”

  “How did I know what?”

  Perplexed, Carisa shook her head. “How did you know I’d be dressed Roaring Twenties style? It was supposed to be a surprise!”

  “I swear I didn’t know, beautiful,” Alex said. “I did it for kicks. Some of the other fellas probably will be dressed to the nines, too. You look grand, dolled up.”

  “Thanks,” Carisa said, more than a little embarrassed. He’d had the same notion she did and she almost blew it. “I love the lingo. I guess great minds really do think alike.”

  “And how,” he quipped. “Let’s beat it.”

  The Orpheum dated back to the Twenties and was considered one of the opulent movie theaters of the era. They walked into the huge lobby, lit up for the special event. Light sparkled off the multiple crystal chandeliers and the enticing aroma of popcorn wafted through the crowds. Carisa had of course visited the place before, but its beauty and grandeur always wowed her.

  She turned down Alex’s offer to buy popcorn and they headed for the auditorium. As they moved through the crowd, Carisa noticed other couples dressed in period style, too, most of them far more Sheik and Sheba than her own simple clothing. They moved around a woman with an Egyptian style cobra tiara and a slinky evening gown, feather boa around her throat, and Alex leaned closer to whisper, “I’m glad you didn’t go full Ritz, Carisa. Your dress suits you. It looks great.”

  “Thanks,” she said as they passed the fancy staircase, split halfway up to become tandem stairs to the restrooms. Carisa could imagine a new movie premier here, back in the day.

  Every seat in the house ended up full by the time the first of two movies rolled. Both were Valentino flicks, including from 1921 The Sheik, which launched him into superstardom and his last picture, Son of The Sheik. Although they exchanged a few whispered comments, both watched with interest.

  “Did you enjoy the films?” Alex asked as they walked outside.

  “I loved them,” Carisa cried. “I think so much was lost when the talkies came along. The music, the expressions, the subtitles … all added so much to the drama. I’ve heard some people complain they can’t follow the story without dialogue but I’ve never had any problem. It takes a truly great actor to portray a character without a sound.”

  “I agree,” he replied. “I’m glad you see it the same way I do. My brother loves action movies, with all the blood and violence, but not me.”

  After the films ended, back at the car, Alex looked over at her. “So, I know it’s late, but do you want to get a Coke or something? I’d invite you to get an ice cream sundae, but you can’t eat the ice cream and I can’t have the nuts.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a cold drink somewhere.”

  He nodded. “I’m thirsty, too. Look, my house is just a few blocks away and I’ve got some fresh iced tea made in the fridge. I’d love you to see the place anyway. Okay?”

  “Sure.” Without trying to maneuver it or ask, she’d get to see his private lair. Carisa had hoped she might, but she hadn’t wanted to be so bold as to ask.

  Minutes later, they rolled up in front of a quaint bungalow style-house, one probably dating to the same era as the silent movies. Tall trees framed the front and looked to her like they’d provide ample shade on hot afternoons. When Carisa came up the front steps, she noticed the vintage porch swing hung in one corner and the antique white wicker furniture on the opposite side. If she owned a porch like this, she�
�d all but live out here during the spring and summer, and even autumn.

  “This is wonderful,” she told Alex. “I love porches. If I had one, I’d sit out on it all the time.”

  “Be my guest, any time,” Alex replied with a chuckle. “Come on inside and see the rest of the place.”

  The cozy living room teemed with antiques from various eras, all well tended. His television rested atop a tall highboy chest and a lovely vintage cedar chest with brass bands served as a coffee table. The comfortable looking couch dated to at least the 1940’s and oval-framed photographs on the wall classed as antiques, too. Even the lamps were vintage editions and she stopped, struck with wonder. This rivaled Aladdin’s cave for wonders, and matched every fantasy Carisa ever had about home sweet home.

  “This is wonderful,” she told him as she walked around the room. Her hands stroked the fabric of the sofa and her eyes devoured everything. “It’s like something out of a storybook, Alex. I feel like I’m coming home and I don’t even live here.”

  Compared to this, her apartment was no more than a stopping point, her current place to flop. Raised alone by a divorced mom who moved often from one town to another and from one cheap apartment or mobile home to something just as temporary, the permanence of Alex’s home appealed. Carisa grew up surrounded by the rummage sale rejects most landlords used as furnishings, with nothing on the walls but a few tacked up posters or pages ripped from magazines. She’d learned early to travel light through life, and even now she could pack her things in a few suitcases to move. Unlike Daphne, who collected porcelain angels and carried her special keepsakes everywhere she lived, Carisa took life on temporary terms.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Alex replied.

  His dining room boasted a beautiful antique table with eight chairs and a matching buffet, both of a dark, lovely wood she couldn’t name. A china cabinet completed the room and it held a lovely set of blue and white Willow Ware dishes. His bedroom held an authentic Jenny Lind double bed, covered with a colorful patchwork quilt. A Mission-style straight chair offered the sole seat in the room and everything boasted the neat, ordered look of a military lodging. The curtains picked up the same colors from the quilt, cheerful and bright.

  When Carisa peeked into the small bathroom, everything appeared tidy too. A huge old claw-foot tub by the single window appealed to her, and she couldn’t help but think she’d love to soak in it someday. The spare bedroom housed a roll top desk with Alex’s computer, a modern recliner, a floor lamp and bookshelves filled with a variety of volumes. On the table beside the chair, Carisa spotted an e-reader and grinned.

  “I see you’re modern enough to own one of those.”

  “Yeah, I am,” Alex told her. “I like it. Don’t you have one?”

  “Of course I do,” she said. “I love it––but I still like real bound books, too.”

  They entered the kitchen last and Carisa loved it most of all. The large space combined a worn pine table with beat-up old wooden chairs, sturdy but scarred. Alex’s stove commanded almost an entire wall, an antique gas stove with four huge burners with enough space between them to place a crock pot, coffee maker, or other small appliance. Double ovens were obvious but the true charm came from elsewhere. The cherry wood cabinets were fronted with small paned glass windows, each one sparkling clean.

  A wide bay window opened out toward the backyard and she could see nothing but darkness outside. In the kitchen, however, African violets bloomed beside aloe vera plants and pots with herbs ranging from sage to basil and thyme. The potted plants added atmosphere and Carisa swore she could catch a whiff of their fragrance, too. The light green walls featured framed advertising prints from the Fifties and antique cooking utensils. She saw old-fashioned tools, a small iron skillet, some of the copper molds she’d seen once in an antique shop, and even one of the popcorn poppers used over an open fire.

  A set of canisters along one countertop looked like fruits, including a big red apple, a fat green pear, a bright yellow lemon, and a purple plum. His fridge was an old round-topped vintage model, too. He didn’t own a modern coffee maker, but a silver percolator.

  “I adore this room,” she said. “It makes me want to sit down and have a cup of coffee. It’s cozy and somehow comforting. Your house is wonderful, Alex. You must have put a lot of time and effort into creating your own little world here.”

  “I did and I didn’t,” he replied. “My grandparents lived here and I inherited the place when they passed. Some of the vintage things belonged to my grandmother. But she owned a lot of modern things too: junky little plastic containers with lids, ugly sofa pillows, and various things like that. I sorted out what I liked and tossed what I didn’t. I’ve added to the collection over the years to keep the old-fashioned charm intact. I’m glad you like it, Carisa.”

  “When I die, I hope I end up in a place like this,” she said, without thinking first. Her heart seized up after she spoke and she hoped he wouldn’t find her comment too weird. Sometimes people took her uncensored thoughts the wrong way.

  Alex chuckled. She stood in front of the plant shelf and he came behind her, his breath warm against the nape of her neck. His arms went around her waist as he turned her around to face him. “I can’t promise eternity,” Alex told her, voice as thick with an erotic smoky quality as a five-alarm fire. “But you can end up here tonight, Carisa. I’ll even offer breakfast in the morning.”

  Alex kissed her, his mouth soft and burning against her lips. Carisa lifted her arms to put them on his shoulders as she stood on tiptoes to enjoy the kiss. After their previous lovemaking, her fingers were familiar enough to tease through his hair without restraint and his kiss deepened. Wicked desire struck and Carisa devoured his mouth. Her hands stroked his body through his outfit. Alex rubbed one hand against her breast through the material of her dress, the nipple springing to life at his touch.

  “I accept your invitation,” she said.

  Mindful of their vintage garments, they moved through the house to his bedroom. The neat order turned to disarray in moments as they stripped. Skin to skin, they came together in a wild embrace. His body heat touched her like a burning matchstick and ignited Carisa’s passion. Alex kissed just above her left breast and allowed his teeth to nibble with erotic appetite. Sensation raced through her veins and nervous system, delicious and urgent. His tongue emerged to taunt her nipple with slow licks. Her bud hardened as he used his tongue to titillate it, and when Alex lowered his mouth so he could kiss a line all the way down to her cunt, Carisa shivered.

  They moved to the bed and faced each other, side to side. In a frenzy of stroking, touching, and caressing they fondled each other and then Alex rolled onto his back. Carisa flipped back her hair and bent down to take his dick into her mouth. His engorged stiff member filled her mouth and she suckled it. She used her tongue to lap it the way she would savor a lollipop with slow strokes then sucked hard. It hardened more within her mouth and she moved so her lips raked it up and down, tempting and teasing.

  Alex groaned with pleasure and one hand gripped her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. “Don’t stop, darling,” he moaned. “Oh, it feels so good.”

  Carisa brought him as close to explosion as she dared, then she mounted him. Until now, she’d never been so bold, but she climbed on and rode Alex hard. Carisa entered new territory in her sexual exploits as she rocked back and forth, savoring the way his dick rubbed against her clit when she moved. Each movement sent incredible pleasure through her and caused sweet tingles to race over her body. Alex thrust up to go deeper and she accommodated him, took him into her chamber. She constricted the walls of her cunt and used them to caress his shaft. The friction brought intense pleasure. Carisa lacked enough air to breathe, but she couldn’t quit, greedy for more.

  Alex grasped her body tight in his arms and flipped them until she lay on the bed with him above, still connected. He plunged deeper into her body and they moved in tandem. Even at the height of straining flesh aga
inst flesh, they kept a certain grace to their movements, like a dance. The pressure built and increased until Carisa couldn’t bear any more. She scissored her legs around Alex’s torso and lifted her butt until his cock rammed in as deep as possible. His pace sped up and the sensations heightened until she knew nothing but the erotic pleasures, the delights, spiraling through her body.

  “Now,” he grunted. “Come with me, now.”

  Whatever he’d held back, Alex gave now and she took it with joyous abandon. In those delicious moments, there was nothing but skin, their two bodies locked in carnal joy. When the climax came it rocked Carisa to her core and she rode it. Erotic satisfaction turned her body into a pleasure palace of delights and she screamed with release. Light, sound, action merged into one nirvana, one center of wonder and then Carisa came down to earth, sated and full.

  As her breathing slowed back to normal and her pulse rate slackened, she cuddled against Alex, happy. He nuzzled her, light and easy. Much more and she’d go off again into another explosion, but his gentle hands, his sweet mouth were just what she craved. She touched his cheek, outlining his lips with wonder. “Oh, Alex,” she breathed. Carisa lacked words to string into a sentence to describe how she felt, how good their sex felt.

  “Hush, honey,” he said. “Just tell me you’re staying.”

  “I shouldn’t,” she replied with honesty. “But I am.”

  They drifted into sleep, still intertwined together.

  The next morning, she woke. Carisa didn’t care she could smell the pungent aroma of their sex. She loved waking up next to a man, delighting to see his eyes flutter open and light up when he saw her in his bed. Although they didn’t make love, they petted and touched until she wanted to indulge.