by Annie Dean
The muffled voice on the other side of the door replied, “You.”
“Do you know how fucking creepy that sounds?” Her voice was shrill and hysterical in her ears. “Go away!”
“I can’t,” came the calm reply. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? Turn around and walk away. Now, or I swear I’ll call the police!”
“I’m supposed to be here. You asked for me.”
Marie was stunned. Horror and an awful excitement coursed through her. She thought about the classic story, The Monkey’s Paw with its “be careful what you wish for” motif. She pictured the man’s angular, vaguely oriental face and realized who … or what he looked like. After all, she’d drawn the primitive image herself.
“That’s crazy,” she murmured then raised her voice and said haltingly, “What am I, uh, supposed to do with you?”
There was a long pause then that delicious, warm, rough voice answered, “Whatever you want. I am made to please you.”
Marie felt a hot blade of lust stab through her at the suggestive words. All reason and logic fled and only erotic images tumbled through her mind. Her crotch tightened and released wetly. She laughed aloud. “No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t happening. Nuh-uh.”
“Please let me in. It’s already getting late.” He sounded urgent.
“What does that mean?”
“There’s not much time.”
Marie frowned. She opened the door and peered through the crack. “Not much time?”
He stood on her porch, broad-shouldered and rawboned, looking at her with those exotic, soulful eyes. “You only asked for one night.”
She felt her resistance melting. It was his dark chocolate eyes that did it. Between one breath and the next she suddenly and completely believed he was what she thought he was. The magic must be working on her too, breaking down her logic and allowing her to believe. There was no other rational explanation for what she did next. As he moved a tentative foot toward the door, she swung it open and stepped back to let him inside. A rain-scented wind blew in with him, bringing a scattering of dried leaves into the front hall. Moving slowly, as if in a dream, she closed the door behind him.
The man looked around the room, examining everything in sight, a slight cock to his head, reminiscent of a dog sniffing out unfamiliar territory. Then he turned his gaze on her and smiled.
Marie’s already racing heart leaped, flipped and twirled before settling again to a steady thumping. His smile was warm, welcoming and familiar. It lit his face with the comfortable glow of a fire burning on a hearth. It was like a homecoming. She felt she’d known him her whole life, and he was a treasured friend. Her fears and doubts blew away like so many scattering fall leaves. She didn’t stop to consider or second-guess as she allowed this stranger to step toward her and take her in his arms. Maybe her capitulation was part of the spell. Her will became as weak and liquid as melted caramel.
She certainly felt unable to resist when he bent his head and covered her mouth with his. The lips that touched hers were warm and soft, the mouth wide and generous—just the way she’d imagined it. Just the way she’d drawn it. The thought made the hair at the nape of her neck rise, but his continued kissing put it to rest again. His tongue flicked out to trace her lips as lightly as a butterfly landing.
Her mouth opened automatically beneath the touch, wanting more, deeper, harder. She put her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth even tighter against hers. She felt like she’d been fasting for years and had been suddenly served a five-course meal. His body was solid and real in her arms, the big frame towering over her so she had to rise up on her toes to kiss him. But his size wasn’t intimidating. Instead, she felt safe and secure, wrapped in his embrace, yielding to the increasing depth and passion of his kisses. His tongue ranged over the interior of her mouth, tasting her and teasing her tongue to response. The heat and wetness of his mouth invaded hers as their tongues twined together in a sinuous dance.
She breathed in the slight moldy odor of the clothes and the dry, dusty scent of straw, and beneath them, the male musk of his pheromones calling to her. Oh yes, he was definitely real. The throbbing in her breasts and pussy verified it. This was no hyper-real fantasy induced by too many mini-Hershey bars. She was sure of it when his hands grasped her rear and pulled her tight against him. She felt the bulge of an erection through his loose-fitting pants. It pressed against her crotch and stomach, massaging her clit and sending a lick of fire burning through her synapses. Marie’s heart pounded like a runner’s and it wasn’t from fear. She moaned softly and rubbed herself against him.
There were far too many clothes in between them. She stepped back and pushed the heavy coat off his shoulders. He shrugged his arms out of the sleeves and it dropped to the floor in a black pool around his feet.
She unfastened the buttons of his long-sleeved, blue work shirt one by one, revealing the hard, flat plane of his chest, his swelling pectorals with their tight, brown nipples and his taut stomach. His smooth skin was tawny and seemed to gleam slightly in the dim light of her front hall. A sprinkling of hair led from his navel down to the waistband of his pants. She shivered at the thought of where it led, and at the sight of the bulge filling the front of the old, black pants he wore.
When she’d unbuttoned his shirt, she peeled it off his arms, stripping it from him like a wrapper from a piece of trick-or-treat candy. Her tongue flicked over her lips hungrily as she tossed the shirt aside. Beneath it the bulging muscles of his shoulders and arms sent a thrill through her. She ran her hands over his torso, feeling the skin like silk and the underlying muscle like hewn granite. The ache in her crotch intensified and her panties grew damp as she stroked him everywhere.
He stood for a moment, eyes drifting half-closed and a soft groan coming from his lips. Another surge of lust liquefied her insides at the deeply male sound. So, he could not only give pleasure but feel it too. The knowledge brought an even stronger sense of reality to this bizarre situation. Whatever he’d been before, he was a flesh and blood lover for tonight.
Cupping her face in his warm palms, he inclined his head to kiss her again, a soft, gentle exploration. She opened her mouth to his, pressing her hands flat against his warm chest and feeling his steadily beating heart.
“So soft,” he whispered. “Just as I imagined they would be.” He nibbled her lips with little kisses.
So hard, Marie thought, smoothing her hands over his chest. Just like I dreamed about. “I can’t believe this. It can’t be happening.”
“Why not? It’s what you wanted. I’m what you asked for.” His hands left her face to slide around her back, pulling her close. Their heat burned her skin through the thin fabric of her old, gray tank top. His deep voice was so intimate and the gleam in his eyes so hungry that Marie felt as limp as a scarecrow herself. Only his strong arms held her upright.
She gripped his shoulders and looked into his eyes, frowning. “What’s your name? I mean, what should I call you.”
“You know.” He smiled. “You named me.”
“Sam?”
He nodded.
A wave of disorientation swept through her as she was reminded again of the insubstantial nature of her guest. “This is just so crazy. I can’t believe…”
He covered her mouth with his, halting her words and suspending her disbelief once more with his hot, wet kiss. His hands stroked up and down her back and stopped to rest above the curve of her buttocks.
Threading her fingers through his thick, dark hair, she relished the feel of his hard skull and strong neck and the soft warmth of his tongue possessing her mouth.
He slid his hands up her back to her shoulders and pushed the loose straps of her tank top off. His fingertips caressed her skin, sending shivers through her. He kissed a path from her mouth down her throat, stopping at the hollow where her pulse pounded. He sucked on the flesh there a moment then, humming a satisfied little “Mmm,” pulled away and lifted the hem of her shirt up over her head.<
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Marie raised her arms and let him take it off then instinctively crossed her arms over her bare breasts. Her cheeks burned and her skin prickled at the sudden nudity. Although the house wasn’t chilly, another shiver ran through her.
Sam tossed the shirt aside and gently moved her arms away so he could gaze at the small, pale globes with their dusky, pointed nipples. He reached out and covered them easily with his large hands, lightly squeezing and weighing them. Then he released them and toyed with her nipples, his thumbs brushing over each point until they were fully erect and hard. When he rolled each bud between his thumb and forefinger, the stimulation was too intense. Marie hissed at the erotic contact and thrust her chest toward his torturing fingers.
She glanced at his face. His gaze was riveted on her chest, watching with obvious fascination her body’s response to his touch. His lips were slightly parted and his eyes glazed with desire. Leaning down, he kissed the swell of each breast then nuzzled her left nipple like a seeking infant before sucking it into his mouth with hungry authority.
Marie’s eyes drifted part closed and she moaned her delight at the strong sucking sensation that shot a bolt of lust straight to her crotch. She pushed her chest toward him encouragingly, relishing the sight of his generous mouth wrapped around her breast, his closed eyes with their long, dark lashes resting in twin arcs on his cheekbones. When he released it from his mouth with a pop, the nipple and areola were glistening wet and as red as raspberries. He turned his attention to her other breast.
While she enjoyed Sam’s ministrations, she ran her hands over his strong shoulders and upper back, enthralled by the living flesh. Her logical mind reared its annoying head once more asking how this was possible. But she pushed the frantic, questioning voice out of her mind and tried to concentrate only on the delectable sensations in her breasts, and in her throbbing pussy. Her sex ached and she thrust her hips forward slightly, needing some contact there.
As though reading her mind, or maybe her not so subtle signal, his hand moved down between her legs to rub lightly through her cotton sweats. The delicious friction made her even wetter. Her panties were soaked at the crotch. She ground against his hand, letting out a long, low moan.
She wanted to see the rest of him now, wanted him nude before her. She pushed him back from her, breaking his contact with her breasts and sex, then she leaned to unfasten his pants. With the fly opened, the loose-fitting trousers dropped easily over his narrow hips and down to the floor. Her throat went dry at the sight before her. Whatever Sam had been before, he was all man now. His cock thrust out, thick and long, from a dark tangle of pubic hair. Beneath the rigid shaft swayed a heavy pair of balls. It was the kind of equipment that filled Marie’s fantasies. And why not? If this was an erotic fantasy brought on by too much time alone and too many mini-Mars bars, why shouldn’t it be perfect?
She reached down and grasped him. His organ was ridged with veins, pulsing with life. It twitched eagerly at her touch. The head was smooth and purplish-red, already dripping in its eagerness for her. She wanted it in her mouth. Now!
Dropping to her knees, she encircled Sam’s shaft with her hand and guided the tip to her lips. With her other hand she cradled the hot, heaviness of his sac, hefting it and toying with the egg-shapes inside the soft, loose skin. Her lips closed around him and her tongue sampled the salty, smoothness of his head. She sucked him in deeper and deeper, engulfing more of his length as he gasped his pleasure.
Glancing down, she realized his trousers were still pooled around his scuffed work boots. She withdrew her mouth from his cock. Sam cried out in protest. Marie unlaced his boots. There was no doubt they were her father’s, salvaged from the basement and used to give her mannequin a pair of feet. But now they were tied over a real man’s feet. She felt vaguely submissive, kneeling before him and removing them like this. The position gave her a stab of déjà vu. She thought of how often she’d sat on her metal folding chair near the feet of the scarecrow, waiting for customers, daydreaming and gazing out across the pumpkins and cornfields.
When she glanced up, he was staring down at her, eyes glittering with lust. She quickly pulled off his boots while he shifted his balance from one foot to the other. He kicked his discarded trousers aside, then stood before her completely naked. He was tan, long, lean and muscular, the perfect man of her dreams.
Returning her attention to his cock, she grasped it firmly and moved her hand up and down while sucking the satiny head into her mouth. She hadn’t given a blowjob since her brief relationship with Nathan a couple of years ago. It seemed her body remembered sex—the movements and feelings associated with it—much better than she could remember Nathan’s face at this point. It was kind of sad that he’d left so little impression on her.
Sam’s hands entwined in her hair, holding her head steady as he thrust into her mouth. “That feels so good,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how good it would be.”
She was touched by his awed tone and at the realization that he was, to all intents, a virgin. The knowledge gave her a sense of power. She wanted to make this experience powerful enough to make him shout when he came. Slipping her mouth from his cock, she moved lower and licked his balls, tasting the salt of sweat, smelling the animal scent of a man. Grazing her finger over the sensitive strip between balls and anus made Sam suck in his breath sharply. She scratched him there lightly then circled her finger around the puckered hole, making it contract. He breathed out raggedly and his fingers tightened on her scalp. She sucked his balls into her mouth gently, first one then the other.
He gave a guttural groan and thrust toward her mouth then back onto her finger that lightly probed his body now.
After several moments of tonguing his balls and fucking his anus with just the tip of her finger, she pulled away and looked up. “You like that?”
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, stroking her hair back from her face. “Wonderful!”
Marie smiled and took his dick in her hand again. She drew it back into her mouth and resumed sucking, harder now, grasping his shaft with a tight grip and moving her fist briskly to bring him to climax.
Helpless against the force of her will, he thrust his hips, filling her mouth deeply with each push. The pace increased and his control slipped as he held her head between his hands and fucked her mouth. His unbridled desire as he plunged into her again and again was exciting. Marie used her teeth to keep him from going too deep and making her gag. He hissed when they scraped his cock. The pain added the extra push he needed to take him over the edge. He came with a hoarse cry, throwing back his head and pumping into her mouth.
She felt more than tasted the burst of warmth at the back of her throat and swallowed it down. Her jaw ached and her knees were sore from kneeling on the hard floor, but she felt a thrill of exultation at the results of her work. Sam was so overwhelmed his thighs trembled and his knees threatened to buckle. She released his penis and put her hands at his hips to steady him.
He breathed raggedly as he recovered from his powerful orgasm. “Thank you,” he gasped, breathlessly. His eyes opened and he gazed at her with an expression of profound gratitude bordering on adoration, combing his fingers through her hair then caressing her upturned face. Sinking down to his knees in front of her, he gathered her into his arms and held her close.
“My pleasure.” Marie smiled and pressed her mouth to his shoulder, reveling in being enfolded in a lover’s embrace for the first time in a very long time. She buried her nose into his warm skin and breathed him in.
They clung together for several long moments then Sam rose, took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. He scooped her into his arms, one arm around her back, the other behind her knees, lifting her as if she didn’t weigh anything. “I’m the one who should be doing things to you. This is your night. Where shall I take you?”
She rested her head against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around his neck, and clung tight. “Upstairs. My bedroom is on the right.” With her bare fee
t dangling over his arm, Marie felt like a little girl. It was sweet and comforting to be carried like this. She was intimately aware of the side of her bare breast sliding against his chest. Each delicate touch sent waves of desire coursing through her. She was still wearing her sweatpants and panties, and couldn’t wait to shed them and be completely naked.
Sam carried her up the steps, his weight making the third from the top creak loudly as it always did. She needed to fix that one of these days, which she’d been telling herself for five years. As he carried her through the doorway into her bedroom, she reached out to the wall and flipped the light switch. The orange glow of her bedside lamp bathed the room, which she’d decorated in shades of dull red and earthy brown. The warm colors made the room seem cozier on this suddenly blustery night. Wind rattled the windowpanes and a spatter of rain drove against the glass.
“So this is where you sleep.” He laid her down on the antique coverlet. “I’ve thought of you at night, wondered what you were doing when you weren’t with me.”
Marie’s curiosity was piqued. “You thought of me? You were aware—before tonight?”
“Aware?” He looked thoughtful. “Yes. I recognized you. There was a … consciousness of the world around me, but now there’s so much more. Here. Inside me.” He rested a hand on his chest and he frowned as though trying to understand it himself.
She tried to picture the rudimentary feelings he might have had and what it would be like to have those budding thoughts burst into full bloom, complex and colorful. “Why did it take so long, I mean, between my making the wish and you showing up at my door?”
“You asked for a night. That’s what we have.” Sitting beside her, his weight dragging the mattress down, he brushed the hair back from her forehead. Stroking her face, he gazed into her eyes and brought her hand up to his lips. He kissed it then pressed it over his thumping heart. “Feel my heart? It’s bursting for you.” The sappy words spoken with complete sincerity, sounded utterly earnest and true coming from him.
