by KD Robichaux
“When my parents replaced all the doors as an upgrade, they put on knobs that don’t lock. I’m just making sure they can’t come busting in here when I’m trying to please my lady,” he explains, unbuckling his belt, pulling it out of the loops of his jeans, and tossing it on the couch.
“If I had a dick, that would definitely make me go limp,” I say with a chuckle as he reaches down, pulling the socks off my feet.
“You have no idea,” he grumbles, and I start to ask what he means, but that’s when he goes for the button of my jeans, and all thoughts flee my mind except for what he’s doing.
My heart thumps behind my ribcage, and I bite my lip in anticipation. I’m nervous, but I don’t feel the urge to stop him like I did the other night in his car after the movie. This tension comes from not having been intimate with anyone in over a year, not from being self-conscious of my body. The way he danced with me and looked at me like he could eat me up did away with any of that. Or maybe it’s just the anticipation of finally getting to be with Jason, knowing the mind-blowing things he can do to my body.
He pulls the zipper down then places his hands beneath me, grabbing a hold of my jeans and working them over my hips and down my legs. Shockingly, when he goes for my cute white boyshorts, he doesn’t pull them off, but straightens out the hem and waistband, putting them back into place after the denim had rolled them down a bit. He stands up straight and takes off his shirt, baring his toned, tattooed chest, covered with a light, soft layer of dark hair, and his flat stomach. I lay back and take in the way his shoulder muscles move as he pulls the shirt down his arms and tosses it on top of his belt.
He places his knee on the mattress between my legs, places his calloused hand behind my neck, and pulls me up to meet his feverish kiss, the perfect distraction as he takes hold of the bottom of my shirt and swiftly lifts it over my head, leaving me only in my pink push-up bra. But when he reaches around my back to unhook it, I shake my head and use my elbow to push his arm away.
“What is it, baby?” he breathes against my lips.
“I gotta keep it on,” I whisper, not wanting to go into detail and ruin the mood.
“You know I love your bod—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“I know. It’s not that,” I emphasize, hoping he’ll understand. I don’t want to have to explain that since I’m breastfeeding, they don’t feel like a sexual part of my body right now, and worse, they could make a mess, and then I’d be mortified.
“I know what you’re worried about, but if I promise not to touch, will you let me take it off? I just want to see you. All of you,” he adds, kissing down my neck.
How can I possibly say no to that? With a sigh, I nod, and he unhooks it with one hand, letting the cups fall to my lap. Not able to look him in the eye, I tell him, “Fair warning, they could…leak. I have no control over it. It just happens.”
“You’re worrying about shit that doesn’t matter again, baby. Get out of that head of yours, and just feel.” He accentuates the last word with a stroke of his fingers up the seam of my panties, making me shudder.
Soon, my breasts are the last things on my mind. Instead, I’m focused on the nibbling at my hipbones, the firm kneading of my ass cheek, and the gentle caresses at my clit through the white cotton.
Kissing his way lower, my breath hitches, knowing what’s to come. I hook my fingers in the elastic at my waist, starting to tug downward. “Leave it,” he growls against my core, sending a shockwave down my legs and up my torso. I peek down at him questioningly and meet his intense gaze. “It’s hot, keeping a little wrapping on my gift.” He kisses the inside of my right thigh. “Like you want me so bad…” He kisses down to where the leg of the boy shorts is snug against me. “…you don’t even want to take the time to pull them off. So you pull them to the side…” His finger mimics his words. “…just enough so I can get to my present.”
The first lap of his tongue up my center has my back bowing and my hands digging into the sheets. It doesn’t take long before his hands are hooked under me, holding my hips in place as I try to simultaneously grind against him and move away from the overwhelming sensations as lights explode behind my eyes.
I hear movement, fabric falling to the floor, and then feel the bed dip as his hot skin comes to press against mine, the hair of his legs giving me goose bumps as it brushes the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs.
I expect him to pull my underwear off, the novelty wearing off, but again, he pulls the fabric to one side, aligning the crown of his erection with my opening. Balancing with an elbow on either side of my head, he leans down to kiss me. I’m completely surrounded by him, his muscled biceps working as blinders to bring Jason’s face into perfect focus above me. God, he’s so handsome, and the look of both lust and love in his dark eyes makes me push my hips forward, wanting to feel him inside me.
“Careful, baby,” he groans in my ear. “It’s been a long time. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I know he’s right. A year and a half without sex combined with the size of him could do me some serious damage, but after the swift climax in the car, and the one I just had by his mouth has me ready to throw caution to the wind. He already knows I’m on the pill, so there’s nothing to wait for. I start circling my hips against him, trying to feel as much of him as I can with what little he’s allowing me to have.
“Please,” I beg up to him. “I need more.” My eyes close as I try to focus my attention where our bodies are barely connected. I feel his biceps harden against the tops of my shoulders, bracing himself so I can’t thrust up toward him. When I look up at him again, his face is like stone, a mix of concentration and sternness, showing self-control I know I won’t be able to break. He is hell-bent on going slow, and it makes me calm a little, allowing him to take care of me, since I see how important it is to him.
I relax beneath him, and he rewards me with another inch, pulling out and pushing into me a few times, coating himself in my wetness before giving me a little more. Achingly slow, until I’m at the point where I’m trembling I want it so badly, he continues this process, until finally—thank you, fucking Lord—he buries himself to the hilt, filling me so exquisitely I’m actually thankful he took so long to do it. As he moves, there’s not even a twinge of discomfort. I feel stretched to the max, but it’s pure pleasure as he rocks in and out of me, and I reach up to grasp his rippling arms, turning my face into one and inhaling his scent. It goes straight from my nose to my pussy, and I feel myself clench around him, hearing him groan.
He feels amazing, even better than I remember, but something is bothering me, and I can’t figure out what it is. It’s nothing he’s doing. God knows he’s doing everything right. But something is distracting me just enough that I’m not able get there. He must sense my frustration, because he leans down to kiss me, and whispers, “You with me, baby?” swiveling his hips.
“Yeah, I just…” I don’t know how to reply, but my hesitation is answer enough. I brace myself for his disappointment, but when I look into his face, there’s not a speck of it visible, only determination. He pushes up onto his hands, straightening his arms, and when the cool air hits my skin, that’s when I feel it. I glance down to see if it’s sweat covering my upper body, but discover it’s exactly what I was afraid would happen. With his light chest hair stimulating my nipples as he thrust against me, it caused milk to release from my breasts, and I cover my face with both hands, horrified.
The way our bodies had been moving together, it’s even ran down to soak the top of my panties. It’s no wonder I couldn’t concentrate on reaching my orgasm; I’m fucking drenched. Jesus, could anything be more embarrassing? Here I am, finally with the man of my dreams, who is so goddamn gorgeous and sexy, and what do I do the first time we make love as a couple? I fucking bathe us in breastmilk. As I pray the mattress will open up and swallow me Nightmare on Elm Street-style, I feel him pull out of me. Oh, God. He’s so disgusted he doesn’t even want to be inside me anymore. I fi
nally got my soul mate back, and now I’m going to lose him because of my leaky boobs.
I’m seriously about to start crying from mortification, but then I feel his hands at my hips, tugging my saturated panties over my ass and down my legs. I still can’t look at him, so I try to decipher what he’s doing with all my other senses. I hear movement, a drawer opening and closing, and then he returns. And that’s when I feel his hot tongue against the soft skin of my stomach. I gasp and then bite my lip, squeezing my eyes more tightly closed behind my hands. I don’t know what to do with myself as he laps at my belly button and then moans. He sucks tiny pinches of skin between his lips on his way up my body, and I whimper when he comes level with the pair of troublemakers that created this whole mess. What he does next changes my mind completely on my breasts not feeling like a sexual part of me anymore.
Licking along the crease beneath the swollen orb, he then trails tiny nibbling kisses up to my nipple, swirling his tongue around the darker circle before sucking it gently into his mouth with a moan. Behind his teeth, I feel him flick it with the tip of his tongue before rolling it between his lips, causing my back to arch and my arms to come down around his shoulders, holding him gently to me. He pays my other breast the same attention, making masculine sounds of appreciation before leaning up to kiss me, and I taste the sugary sweetness of the milk he cleaned from me as I feel him run something soft over my chest and stomach. When I look down, I see he’s drying me off with one of his white T-shirts, and when he’s done, he runs it over his own torso before placing it on the pillow beside us, I assume for easy access in case we need it again.
There is absolutely nothing he could have done to disable the bomb that was my shame any more gracefully and caringly, making me love this man even more. He knows exactly how to handle me in every situation. No matter how far gone I think I am, he not only brings me back, but lifts me higher, pulling me from the brink and making me feel better than ever before. Moments before, I had never been more embarrassed in my entire life, and he managed to turn it around, making me feel like a goddess, like he couldn’t get enough of me.
With my panties finally off, he slides into me with one smooth thrust, and I clamp my legs around his hips, lifting up to meet him. With the high he has given me, and without the niggling distraction of the wetness between our bodies, it’s not long before I feel the building tension inside me. I zero in on it, everything else around us disappearing, and all I concentrate on is his every movement as he hits that oh-so perfect spot.
The explosive orgasm hits me forcefully, stealing my breath so swiftly I don’t even make a sound. Every muscle in my body tightens and flexes at the exact same moment, and Jason gives one strangled grunt before I feel him pulse rhythmically inside me, the hot liquid soothing my core.
He doesn’t pull out right away, lingering for a while to pepper kisses over my face and neck, and for the first time in person, as I’m wrapped in his strong arms, still full of him, he looks down into my half-mast eyes and whispers, “I love you, baby.”
My gulp is audible through my dry throat, and I don’t know if I’m going to cry, laugh, or both, but I manage to get out, “I love you, too,” before lifting my head to press my face into his chest, breathing him in. His aroma is no longer all Jason, but a sensual mix of the two of us, and I find I love that even more, knowing he’s covered in me.
Kayla’s Chick Rant & Book Blog
January 20, 2008
My last three days in Houston were amazing. I spent every day with Jason, twice with Josalyn, and the other alone with him, celebrating his birthday early in style. He took me to a Brazilian Steakhouse, where each person gets a coaster, green on one side, red on the other, and the waiters walk around with different kinds of meat on skewers. If your coaster is on green, that means you want them to slice you off a hunk of the meat onto your plate; red means you’re good for now. We ate so much it hurt, and we ended up going back to his house and watching a movie, like old times, ending the same way it always did, with him giving me mind-blowing orgasms.
He drove me home, just like he had the night we went out dancing, and ended the night with sweet kisses and words of love. It’s so different than the way nights used to end with him, with awkward smoke breaks, him not wanting to show me any affection or get too close. Looking back, I understand it now. Sharing these special moments at the end of the day makes me fall more and more in love with him, and him distancing himself back then was his way of staving off these feelings. It makes me appreciate them even more now.
He pulled up a calendar on my last day with him, and we picked out the dates he’ll be coming to see me. He’s bound and determined to drive, instead of just flying, but he’s going to stay for four days instead of just a weekend, so I’m making no complaints.
Now it’s back to my normal routine, working during the day, schoolwork at night. Hopefully the next seven weeks will pass by quickly before I get to see Jason again. Until then, I have lots of new books to read from my used bookstore to get through. Watch out for those reviews!
March 6, 2008
I haven’t slept in two days. I’m so excited to see Jason. He’s supposed to get in sometime tonight, and I’ll be meeting him in the morning after he gets some sleep. He’s been calling me throughout the day, letting me know when he reaches each state line on his drive from Texas. He slept all day yesterday and left at 8:00 p.m. so he could arrive tonight and go straight to bed.
I’ve tried to pass the time today with my mom. It’s her birthday, and Josalyn and I took her gallivanting. We went to the mall and bought her some new super soft pajamas at Victoria’s Secret, and of course I picked myself out a little somethin’-somethin’ to wear for Jason.
We went to lunch at K&W Cafeteria, one of the restaurants I missed terribly during the semester I lived in Texas. I could pretty much live off their turkey and dressing smothered in gravy. I always buy way too many side dishes, because I can never choose between all the country-style vegetables. Mashed potatoes and gravy, turnip greens, cabbage, collards, sweet potato casserole, mac-and-cheese… and don’t get me started on their desserts. I always get a slice of their sweet potato pie and their chocolate cream pie, take a couple bites from each, and then take the rest home.
Mom got her New England dinner—don’t ask me what’s in it—the orange Jell-O with the fine slivers of carrots she loves, and a slice of coconut cream pie as her ‘birthday cake’. Little Tooty had bites of everything off our plates. Turns out my little southern girl loves the greens just as much as I do.
I can’t believe she already turns one next month. We stopped breastfeeding a few weeks ago. She all of a sudden lost interest, preferring her bottle instead, since the milk comes out a lot faster, I assume. Sooner than I planned to stop, but the bright side is I won’t have to worry about soaking Jason again. Also, she’s sleeping through the night now too, not even waking for a bottle in the middle of the night anymore.
These several weeks went by a lot faster than I thought they would. I’ve stayed busy with work and school, and have talked to Jason on our lunch breaks and every night on the phone. My boss wasn’t too happy about me taking tomorrow and Monday off from work so I could have the four-day weekend with Jason. He’s been a real douchebag to Jenna and me lately anyway, griping about stupid shit we have no control over. We’ve been training his niece this week. I’ve seriously thought about quitting once she gets the hang of it.
I have a lot of guilt spending so much time away from Josalyn. I know it’s a normal thing for both parents to work nowadays, but I grew up with my mom raising me, and looking back, I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world. Maybe we didn’t have as much spending money as we would if she had a nine-to-five job, but there wasn’t anything more I could have wanted than that time with my mom. Even those years she had a secretary job at Granny’s church, she was able to take me with her. I can remember bringing pillows and blankets to prop up in her office and read and color. And I was even allowe
d to walk around to all the Sunday school classrooms and draw on their chalkboards as long as I cleaned them after I was done. Sometimes, the church’s organ player would be there to practice, and she’d let me sit on the bench next to her while she played. I always thought it was so cool when she’d let me play the foot pedals.
My dad didn’t really care for all the pageants and extracurriculars I was in, having raised three boys before me, so it was up to my mom and me to pay for them. Mom had her little part-time jobs, like the one at the church, and then merchandising once I got into school, and then I raised money for things like pageant dresses and training by selling candy. We would go to the fundraiser place and buy a box of chocolate bars for fifty cents apiece, and then sell them each for a dollar. I would go into car dealerships around town in my little tap shoes, impressing them with a dance, and most of the time they’d buy a whole box to turn back around and sell for themselves. I got a lot of sponsorships that way too. I wonder if the Ford dealership still has my autographed picture with my crown on my head still up on their bulletin board. Probably not—that was a decade ago.
As lucky as I am to have my mom and Granny to watch Josalyn, I wish I was home with her all day. Thinking about it, I get enough financial aid from school and child support that I could survive easily without the job. I’ve got a ton saved up right now, set aside for visiting Jason. And I would be able to finish up school a lot faster if I could take more than two classes per semester. It’s just a hard decision, because I’ve never had a job with such great paychecks before. It’s a rush every two weeks to open up that check and see forty hours a week at ten dollars an hour, when my biggest checks before were around two hundred bucks bi-weekly, since I was only part-time at GNC, splitting shifts up between five different employees. It’s nice seeing my savings grow and grow, but at the same time, that’s not the only thing growing. My little girl is, and I feel like I’m missing it.
