by Dylan Allen
“Come the fuck on, Simon,” Kyle shouts from the door.
I pull away from her and for a second wish I could tell Kyle to go ahead without me, but we’ve been planning this for a while. We haven’t had a night to ourselves in a long time.
“See you later, Ad.”
“Enjoy.”
Four hours later, Kyle and I stumble home, both slightly drunk on beer and celebratory shots of tequila after our team won. It was a great night. The apartment is pitch black and I whisper Addie’s name as we step into the living room.
“Addie.” I whisper again, but this time louder.
When I get no response, I flip the lights on, and in this moment I know without a doubt I love this woman. She is fast asleep on the couch, Henry is sprawled on top of her, a lock of her hair in a tight grip in his little fist.
I told her yesterday Henry had been congested and was having a hard time sleeping. Next to them on the coffee table is a humidifier, which is clearly what she stopped to buy on her way here.
She has stepped into my family, and without any hesitation has become a part of it. She and Kyle bicker like brother and sister, and she is a mama bear when it comes to Henry—much to Mercy’s joy and annoyance.
Mercy has been a huge part of our lives. I know she loves us, but I also know her involvement is mainly driven by the guilt she feels about the way our father left us and what happened to Kyle and Ashley.
Addie’s here because she wants to be. She is so beautiful lying there sleeping. I stand there watching her and Kyle walks over and before I can stop him, shakes her awake.
“Wake up, Mary Poppins,” he sings as he shakes her again.
“Man, stop, let her sleep.”
Addie’s eyes flutter open, clouded by sleep and confusion as she looks around the living room as if she needs to remember where she is.
Her eyes land on Kyle and with one hand on Henry, she sits up and swats his hand off her shoulder. She grumbles in annoyance as she sits up.
“Stop it, you idiot. I’m awake!”
“Yes, of course you are. That’s why your eyes were closed and you were snoring.”
“Stop it, children.” I step between them and take Henry from Addie. He doesn’t even stir as I settle him on my shoulder. I caress her head, gently.
“Come to bed. I’ll put Henry in his room.”
“Don’t forget his humidifier. He woke up coughing and this really helped to stop it, he fell asleep and hasn’t coughed since. I think being on his stomach also helps.” She calls all of this after me as I walk down the hall to Henry’s room.
When I get back to my room, she is buried deep in my comforter. I brush my teeth and crawl in after her. Tonight, I am content just to pull her warm body back against me, knowing she is here.
My daydream is broken by Addie shouting the shower is free. She darts out of the bathroom, scoops up the dress, and runs into the little dressing room on the other side of the room.
Less than forty minutes later, I am sitting on the bed, showered, shaved, and in my tux waiting for Addie to come out the dressing room.
“Addie, if we don’t leave in the next five minutes, we’ll have to…”
My words die in my throat as she steps out of the dressing room. She is a vision.
The dress, floor length white silk covered in entirely black and orange swirls, is amazing. The top wraps around her neck in what I now know is called a halter. The waist is cinched, and the dress falls straight to the floor, but it has a slit that goes almost to the top of her left thigh, causing the dress to fall open with every single step she takes toward me.
The gold, closed toe, sling back heels the designer sent along with the dress are perfect and Addie walks like she was born wearing them. There is a gold bangle that wraps up her arm from wrist to elbow like a vine. That and her ever present gold pendant are her only jewelry.
Her hair is up in a simple knot, completely off her face and showing off her strong, beautiful bone structure. Her makeup, golden and light, is perfect.
She is breathtaking.
I know there is nothing I have done in my life to deserve a woman as beautiful as she is, but I close my eyes and say a prayer of gratitude that her beauty is not skin deep, but runs to the very core of who she is.
“I’m ready. Aren’t you going to say anything?” She actually looks nervous. How foolish of me to let her think anything but the truth.
So, I speak the words I should have the minute she stepped out of the room.
“Addie, there is nothing I could say that would be adequate, but you should know I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than you are right now.”
She blushes and lowers her gaze, but she doesn’t try to hide her smile.
“Thank you, baby. You look amazing, too. Shall we?” She tips her head toward to the door. I grab her cape and throw it over her shoulders, then wrap my scarf around my neck.
“I can’t wait to see Cara dance,” Addie exclaims as we step outside.
I only nod in agreement as we step into the elevator. I don’t think anything will match the beauty that will be sitting next to me all evening.
November 30, 2014
Cara danced her heart out. I’ve seen her dance in every company she has been a part of. Yet, I’ve never seen her like this.
It was magical.
My eyes were riveted to the stage.
After the show, we met Cara and Louis for a very late and light dinner near the Opera.
I was happy to be able to congratulate Cara on her opening night and to say goodbye properly before we left in the morning.
It’s after midnight and we’ve just gotten back to our suite. I’m tired, yet so exhilarated. It’s our last night in Paris, in this amazing hotel room, and I can feel the charge between Simon and me like a live current.
His hands never stopped touching me all night. During the performance his hand had a firm grip on my exposed thigh, or played with my fingers in tune with the music.
Right now, I am so turned on. This man wore a tux like it was his fucking job. The black custom Dior fit him like a second skin. For such a large man, he was elegant as he walked. The tie in lieu of a bow tie gave him a sophisticated and modern look that was so him.
I look down at my dress as I reach up to unhook the halter neck. The designer is one I have admired, and I cannot believe Simon had it made for me.
When I took my cape off inside our box, I heard a few gasps. I know it was stunning. It’s like a work of art and I felt like a million dollars wearing it tonight.
It’s a material thing, but it is so symbolic of how Simon treats me and our relationship. I’ve decided to tell him about my father when we get home. I don’t want any secrets between us, and I’ve decided the shame of his crime is his not mine to bear.
I feel Simon’s lips against the back of neck and my thoughts scatter. He presses a trail of kisses from my neck down my back.
He unzips the skirt of the dress and it falls away, leaving me standing there, naked but for the lace thong and the beautiful gold heels I wore with my dress.
Simon drops to his knees behind me. He firmly grips my hips and kisses a path straight down the seam of my ass. He stops there and uses his hands to move my feet apart, widening my stance.
One of his hands releases my hip and hooks into the delicate string holding the thong to my body. His yank is fast and sure, and in an instant my bare pussy is on full display.
He runs his tongue down the crevice of my buttocks, and I gasp as I feel the tip of his tongue dip inside of me. I look around for something to give me some purchase—something to hold on to.
Sensing my need, Simon spins me around and places my hands on his shoulders. Still on his knees looking up at me, I have never been more under his control as I am right now.
When he commands me to, “Hold my shoulders,” I do without any hesitation. Simon lifts my leg and throws it over his shoulder, his arm wraps around my waist like an iron vice.
He
presses his face into my pussy and takes a long deep inhale. I shudder. My clit is throbbing; my pussy is wet I know I will soon feel the wetness against the inside of my thighs.
“Nothing I’ve smelled in my entire life compares to how good your cunt smells.”
Oh, God. His filthy mouth makes me crazy. His other hand opens the lips of my pussy and exposes that bundle of nerves begging him for relief. He doesn’t deny me as he places an openmouthed kiss on my clit, sucking it gently into his mouth.
My legs betray me and at this moment I am only upright due to Simon’s grip around my waist and his shoulder supporting my leg.
His sucking and licking is relentless and in minutes I feel my orgasm building.
My hands move from his shoulders to his head. I hold his head in place as I start to come, my orgasm so powerful I am unable to scream, my lungs seized and incapable of circulating the air required for sound to escape me.
I fall forward as Simon eats me through my climax.
He is already halfway across the room before I realize he has me over his shoulder and is walking toward the bed.
He lays me down gently as he starts to strip out of his tuxedo. He rips the tie off first, and as I reach to help him he stops with a curt, “no.” He reaches for me, grabbing both of my wrists.
“Do you trust me?” His face is so serious, almost grave, but I feel nothing but love and desire for this man.
“Yes,” I answer simply and without hesitation.
He holds my hands over my head and wraps his tie around my wrists, tying them tightly. He then pushes me down and I lay there able to move, but unable to touch him as he finishes undressing.
His body is beautiful. I know he works hard in the gym, and he runs a punishing number of miles every week. Every time I see him naked, though, I can’t believe all of this beauty is mine.
He is chiseled and toned and glorious.
He doesn’t have a six pack, more like a four pack, but his abdomen doesn’t have an ounce of extra fat, his hips are corded by the muscle that gives men the much coveted “V”, which, universally, drives women to distraction.
His cock is almost ferocious in its arousal. The head is dark and engorged, and it bobs against his stomach as he bends over to take this pants off.
I can’t hide my gulp as I take him in.
He walks toward me, his appraisal of me similar to mine of him.
“I love you, baby,” he says, his eyes serious.
“I love you, too.”
“Shhh.” He sits down next to my head and presses three fingers to my lips to silence me.
“I know you do, baby. And I respect and honor you in every way.” I only watch him, feeling confused and slightly anxious now.
“I know your life has been about controlling outcomes. Tonight, I want you to leave it entirely up to me. No touching yourself, no touching me. Let me show you that at times you can just be, and I can give you everything you need.”
My heart clenches as he speaks. This man. He speaks to my soul, his voice a honeyed balm to the cracks in it. I don’t even try to stop the tears that roll down my cheeks.
He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me. It starts so sweetly, our lips searching, our tongues tasting.
His hands cup my face as he moves to lie over me. His upper body’s weight borne by one of his forearms as he lays between my spread thighs.
As his hands move to my neck and he caresses my pendant, his kiss changes, his tongue stiffens, and his mouth opens over mine. This kiss is demanding and passionate, and I am swept away in its ardor.
Simon’s hand reaches my breasts and he thumbs my nipple, scraping the head with the edge of his blunt fingernail.
I moan as this sends a bolt of sensation straight from my nipple to my pussy.
His mouth leaves mine, and I feel the loss of it keenly.
“Simon, your mouth… I need it.” I whisper in a voice so strained with need I barely recognize it as mine.
“I’ll take care of you, baby.” And before I can even register his response, his mouth covers my left nipple while his hand continues to stroke my right one.
The heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his tongue, the nip of teeth has worked me into a mindless frenzy.
My hips start to move, begging for attention to be paid to that part of my body, too.
I start to feel the frustration of my bindings. I want to run my hands over his head, I want to touch his cock, I want it in my mouth, in my pussy, in my ass.
I want it everywhere.
Simon moves so he’s lying beside me. He takes my other nipple into his mouth while his hand moves between my legs. Without a single moment’s hesitation, he plunges two fingers inside of me, and I feel relief as his fingers stretch me.
He starts to fuck me, hard and fast, with his hand as his teeth bite down hard on my nipple.
“Simon,” I scream, as an orgasm I didn’t feel building rips through me. My hips jerk and my neck arches off the bed. Simon keeps my torso firmly held down as I come.
He pulls his fingers out of me and presses them to my lips for a second. My tongue darts out reflexively, and I taste the essence of myself his fingers left there.
He puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks them.
Our gazes lock as he reaches over to the bedside table and opens the drawer.
He opens the condom he grabbed and starts to roll it on.
For an instant, I think a thought I’ve had almost every single time we’ve had sex. Our lovemaking is almost wordless. Outside of our sounds of pleasure and encouragement, we don’t talk when we fuck. I love this so much. It has made every encounter we’ve had, whether it’s fast, quick, furious or gentle, feel like a communion.
He kneels between my legs again and takes his cock into his fist.
“I have been thinking about this moment since I saw you with that dress on.”
He bends over to kiss me and at the same time, he rubs his cock through my drenched pussy, rubbing my clit, teasing my lips before he enters me with one single thrust. It’s so strong the bed moves.
The entire bed.
Simon’s hand trails up my leg and he grabs my knee, forcing my pelvis to open widen. Then he starts to move. His strokes are slow at first, almost like he’s dancing to a very slow love song.
He whispers to me, “You’re going to come with just my dick tonight, baby. Nothing else.”
He starts to kiss me, and he doesn’t stop.
Not once.
His hand releases my knee and moves to my hip, he tilts my hips at an angle that is unfamiliar, but very comfortable, before his pace picks up.
He is hitting a spot inside of me I didn’t know existed.
At my cry of surprise and delight, he stops for a second and his eyes open. With his lips still pressed to mine, he smiles.
And then he starts fucking me again.
The orgasm which starts to build starts deep, so deep I almost don’t recognize it for what it is at first. But within moments, I am on the edge and I close my eyes, focusing on the sensation.
Simon’s pace increases—our bodies drenched in sweat.
He’s breathing hard from the effort he is exerting, and I feel his breath mingling with mine as it comes through his nose.
My orgasm is blinding.
I literally cannot see when it hits. I know I am speaking, calling out, but I have no idea what I am saying.
Simon’s orgasm chases mine, and he reaches up, unties my wrists and grabs my shoulders.
He pulls me up so that when he comes, we are sitting up, chest to chest, my face in his neck as he groans my name into my hair.
We sit like this, legs wrapped around each other’s hips, Simon almost cradling me until his softened cock slips out of me.
This seems to shake us out of our trance, and we pull apart. We are both sweat soaked and exhausted.
Simon pushes the damp hair stuck to my face away and tilts me up to look at him.
His smile is radiant. �
�Baby, you are fucking amazing.” He kisses me slowly.
“I love you, Simon. I am so glad we made this trip. That was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had…”
His hands, which have been caressing my back, stop moving. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
“But can we please take a shower? I feel like I rolled in a pool of sweat and cum.”
He bursts out laughing, but untangles his limbs from mine.
He glances at the clock, and I follow his gaze. It’s almost two o’clock in the morning. Our train is at 9:00am
“Come on, Addie, you stink. Let’s go shower.”
“Fine, but this shower is too small for anything, so keep your hands to yourself.” I warn with mock severity.
“We’ve shopped all day, walked miles, been to the ballet, and I just fucked you like I’m eighteen and not twenty-eight. I couldn’t try anything if someone put a gun to my head. Come on.”
We shower quickly, brush our teeth and crawl into bed—naked and exhausted.
We lay in bed, facing one another with our toes touching, as we talk about how excited we are to get home and see Henry and Kyle.
I fall asleep with a heart full of dreams and a smile on my face.
November 30, 2014
“Ah, brine and piss. Must be back in good old London.” This from Simon as we disembark at St. Pancras.
We slept like the dead, woke up with less than 90 minutes to catch our train back to London, and collapsed in our seats as soon as we reached them.
“Oh, please. You’ve missed it, and you know it.”
I reach in to my purse to turn my phone on. It has been off all weekend and I’m dreading the emails, voicemails, and text messages waiting for me. I know I have a ton of work to do for work tomorrow, and I owe Milly a call.
As Simon and I start to walk across the platform, the vibration from my phone causes the bag on my shoulder to shake.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I hate coming back to reality.” I snatch my phone from my bag with my free hand and glance at the screen.
