by Tia Siren
“Have a seat on the couch,” I heard her say in the dark. “I’ll be back.”
I wasn’t sure what she had in store for me, but the intrigue was enough to stifle my hard truths. I would continue trying to hide my feelings.
I sat down on the couch, waiting. Several minutes passed, and she’d barely made a sound. Occasionally I could hear footsteps, but I didn’t know what they were up to.
“You remember the PJs I always wore over to your place for the longest time?” she asked through the darkness.
“Sure! Beatles T-shirt and the purple pants with flowers on them.”
“You are correct, sir!” she said. “Sadly, I lost my glorious Beatles shirt at some point a few years ago. I haven’t had the heart to get a new one.”
“Oh, bummer.”
My sadness ended abruptly. Bailey stepped toward me on the couch with no shirt or bra on, wearing the purple floral pants. The subtle light hit her body just right. Her voluptuous, soft breasts were practically glistening in the moonlight. Her tummy looked skinny, and her lips looked delicious.
“And,” she said with a hint of satisfaction. “The pants have a pretty big hole in them. Take a guess where.”
She climbed into my lap, wrapping her legs around me, and pressing her beautiful chest into mine. She ground her hips and ass into me, surely feeling me growing for her.
“Oh, Darren,” she moaned. “Take me.”
She took my hands and guided them to her bouncing breasts. To say that she was coming on hard to me would’ve been an understatement. She actually was craving dessert.
Chapter 24
Bailey
I felt incredibly self-conscious, as I’d walked out into the living room to present my half-naked body to Darren on display. Even as I humped his body, feeling his erection grow with every move I made against it, I still felt insecure.
After I’d let go of his hands, he started to gently yet firmly massage my chest, feeling my nipples between his fingers. He moved his hands onto my back and sucked my nipples into his mouth. He lightly nibbled on them, sucking them longingly while also rubbing my back. It was almost too much goodness to handle.
He picked me up and lifted us both off the couch. He was holding me up into the air as easily as the airplane had. I felt like I was floating, except I knew it would turn into something else.
He tossed me onto the bed. I rolled around like a child, messing around aimlessly and acting like a goofball. I looked over, seeing that Darren had removed all his clothes except for his boxers. He put his hand in his underwear and began playing with himself. He was already so hard.
I gladly joined him in masturbation. I stuck my hand up the hole in my pants and began to massage my folds. I was getting off on him masturbating way more than I thought I would. I only had to lightly press on my G-spot to elicit my orgasm. As I moaned louder, he stroked his cock harder and faster.
Once I’d completed, I started gently massaging my folds again. I looked over at Darren, hoping he could tell just how much I needed him inside me.
He joined me on the bed, staring into the hole of my pants. I didn’t stop playing with myself, and he enjoyed every second of it.
He grabbed onto my knees, and then slowly bent them further apart outward. This bend caused the tear in my pants to grow even wider.
“Mmm,” I moaned. “You like stretching me out, don’t you?”
With his face smiling and his dick throbbing, he penetrated me with his weapon. My pants were still on, tearing more as the night went on.
His hands gripped my sides, and when he would ride me harder, he would grab onto my chest and squeeze while he fucked me. I loved how he wasn’t afraid to pay attention to my breasts, and didn’t stop pleasing me after giving me an orgasm.
After of the intensity of his powerful thrusts, my walls came clambering down onto him. I cried out, causing him to burst within me.
We lay there in bed, utterly spent. He embraced me, holding me close. I loved being back in his arms, but it didn’t help calm me down. Just feeling his warm skin pressed into mine was enough to keep me running.
I rubbed my hands along his body. He kissed me all over. I would linger on certain areas of him, and his kisses would soften or include tongue depending on where they were. I loved feeling his hot breath run back and forth against my flesh.
After several minutes of playing our devilish game, I eventually caved and sent my adventurous hands down to feel his hard cock.
I tugged lightly on his dick with one hand and massaged his full balls with the other. He began to kiss my neck, focusing on certain spots near the base that he knew would draw out easy moans of ecstasy out of me.
The bigger his penis grew for me, the slower and firmer I stroked him. He licked and nibbled on my neck. He nearly took my breath away when he surprised me during a bite by pressing his hand onto my clit.
I wanted to put his throbbing dick back inside of me, but I knew that if I tugged on him a little while longer, I could get him to explode into my hands, which I always enjoyed doing.
He growled, biting harder into my neck. He gently inserted one of his fingers inside of me.
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to empty me, baby.” He moaned.
I gave him a mischievous grin, raising my eyebrows and not stopping. I made it harder to stifle for both of us by kissing his lips. Our tongues danced together; frantically moving with the pace we were keeping with each other’s pulsating centers.
We held a long kiss. And then, when we broke apart, he growled louder.
“Don’t you fucking stop,” he ordered me. “Don’t slow down. Keep going, missy.”
“Yes, sir.”
I obeyed him, and he grabbed onto my shoulders with heavy pressure. He roared, erupting in my hand and frosting my fingers with his icing. I laughed triumphantly.
I stood up on my knees, examining my sticky hands. He was drained, panting and laughing nonstop in bed. We kept smiling at each other, and I was debating what to do next. I’d emptied him twice, but I wasn’t finished.
I scooted up right beside him, showing him what he did to my hands. Then, I took my fingers and put them into my mouth, one by one, licking and sucking his batter off my hands like I’d been making a cake.
It was subtle, but I could see that my tasting was doing something for him.
I ran my fingers, wet with my saliva, up and down his body. I started at his calves and went up to his shoulders. I made sure to drag my chest up along his body as I did it. I could see him rebuilding for me already.
I was enjoying his body too much. I loved the feeling of his built pecs flexing for me whenever I touched them. His skin was so soft, despite having some hair on his chest and arms. He kept his legs shaved, and they felt incredible to the touch.
As we drew closer together once again, my hands drifted further up his body, resting on his face. I caressed his hair and his cheeks, admiring his details. He was such a stunning man.
I wanted to keep it entirely out of my mind, but my thoughts suddenly shifted back to his words from before. “I never agreed not to fall in love with you.”
Those words, along with many others concerning his love for me, kept ringing in my mind as I held his head in my hands.
I had always loved Darren. He wasn’t just a friend to me. He was one of the closest companions I’d ever found. As we began to sexually mature, we noticed when our dynamic changed. We’d agreed early on in our friendship that we didn’t want to risk severing our connection because of damaged feelings.
Ironically, to continue sheltering our feelings, we ended our friendship. And yet, while I hated the circumstances of how Darren came back into my life, I was grateful to have him back.
I tossed aside the ripped remnants of my pants and climbed onto his lap, wet with anticipation. He was hard for me, but I wanted him solid as a boulder. I ground my wet folds against his thick shaft, making him harder and me wetter.
I couldn’t see the color o
f his eyes in the dark, but their perfection could still cut through the darkest of nights. I felt like he could see right through me.
He could still see and know my imperfections. And yet, when he would lavish me with affection, somehow, I believed that he didn’t notice them or care. He could go six years without seeing me, most of those without hearing my voice; and yet, he was able to talk to me and behave with me like no time had passed since we’d last seen each other. None of it felt forced, and all of it felt like it came from a real, deep place.
I grabbed onto his slippery dick and inserted it inside me. I rode his firm body, hands clasped onto his shoulders. We were both so horny that I knew it wouldn’t last long for either of us.
He grabbed onto my hair, tugging hard enough to move my head back. I arched my back, hopping harder on his meat. He spanked my ass with his free hand, cupping it.
I knew we were indeed in trouble. I knew that before morning came, I would dread the thought of having to watch him leave. Even though his return to Rome was days away, it didn’t stop me from picturing it.
He grabbed onto my ass with both hands, thrusting upward deep into me, startling me. That thrust was the push back to reality I needed. My current reality was ironically far greater than what my reality generally consisted of. It still, somehow, didn’t feel totally real to me.
I could feel him filling me up with his hot cum. The feeling of his fluids pouring in and out of me was enough to make me collapse around him once more.
He grabbed onto my face with both hands, pulling me to his lips. We held a long, passionate kiss for over a minute, holding each other in a full embrace. He didn’t want to leave me, and I didn’t want to feel him go. I was amazed that he didn’t slide out from the volume of lubrication between my legs.
After we disconnected and were satiated, we sank into my bed. We snuggled under the covers, and I huddled up into him. He held me close to him in his arms. His hold was strong, warm, and protective. I felt at home with him.
As we drifted toward sleep together, cuddling in my bed, I realized that I was right where I belonged. I knew that I hadn’t misjudged the situation, and I had no doubt that having him in Memphis with me was the right call.
Although, despite the numerous conversations we’d had on the subject, I suspected that I was falling in love with Darren. I’d been theorizing about my feelings for him for decades, but in the moments following our sex, the smoke had finally been lifted.
I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I didn’t know for sure, but I think that he stayed awake for a while, too. I thought about how easy it would’ve been to tell him. I pondered on muttering it quietly. I couldn’t muster the courage.
I fell into slumber with thoughts of Darren and about how I was going to handle my feelings for him. I had no idea what I was going to do.
Chapter 25
Darren
I woke up the next morning with Bailey still in my arms from our night of intense passion. Her eyes were closed, her hair draped over her face, and she was nuzzled into me. It was the best way I’d ever started a Saturday. I didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. I only wanted to be with her.
I got to hold her and stare at her beauty for quite some time. But, all good things come to an end. My end was ushered in by her phone’s alarm going off. She woke up, pushing herself slightly away from me. She rubbed her enchanting eyes, opening them just enough for me to see myself in them.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“There’s no way I look beautiful right now,” she mumbled. “You’re lying.”
“Never. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
“I wish I felt the same way,” she said, patting me on the shoulder. “You’re sweet. How’d you sleep?”
“Wonderfully, thank you.”
She leaned up, kissed my lips, and rolled out of bed. With the sunlight pouring in, I was easily able to see her entire delectable naked body. I immediately wanted to pull her back into bed and start the day the way we’d ended the night before.
Instead of speaking up, I receded back into the covers. She eventually came back in, wearing a sexy black bra and thong that left little to the imagination.
“I guess if you have to put something on, that’s what it should be,” I said.
She giggled. “Shut up. You really like it?”
“You look like a supermodel,” I told her. “Better, really.”
“Okay, now I know you’re full of shit,” she said, crossing her arms. “I don’t even look like Bailey Wright right now. I do like the underwear, though.”
“You look incredible, Bailey,” I said as sincerely as possible. “I can’t get over how rapturously—”
“Okay, it looks good, I believe you! I don’t want to put clothes on. I don’t want to leave this bed.”
“Then, don’t leave this bed,” I said patting the covers beside me.
“I wish I could, but I need to get ready,” she said. “Leah sent me a text asking if we could meet up for a while this morning to talk.”
“Ah, now I feel bad,” I said. “Did she not talk to you yesterday because I was with you? She could’ve trusted me.”
“It’s not like that,” she assured. “I’m not really sure what she wants to talk about. It’s probably more of the usual: record deal, tours, new songs. She didn’t get to talk with me much after she left Rome. We have some catching up to do.”
“I can keep your bed warm, that’s fine,” I said, growing happier with the idea of falling back asleep.
“Or, I can call a cab or an Uber and leave you the car,” she suggested. “You could drive around a bit. Go out into the city and see what you think about it. You can find things that look interesting to you, and then we can go later or tomorrow. Oh! You should go to the Pyramid.”
“Memphis has a pyramid?”
“We have the pyramid,” she continued. “It’s an actual pyramid that was used as an arena for years. It’s one of the biggest pyramids in the world. It’s owned by Bass Pro now, so it has the tacky logo all over parts of it. But if you get past that, it’s really impressive. You can also go toward the top and see all of Memphis from the lookout.”
“I wish I’d brought my good camera,” I said.
“You could bring one of my guitars with you,” she suggested playfully. “You might feel inspired when you get that high.”
I had been contemplating many things frequently by then. I did wonder if living out in a big city like Memphis would be entirely out of the question. I told myself that thoughts like that had to dissipate if they were fueled primarily by sexual flames.
Since I felt confident that the roots of my ideas weren’t planted by sex, it felt healthier to consider them. I felt that it would also be easier and effective if I got out and saw new and different things to help “stir the pot.”
I got out of bed and put my boxers on. By the time I was getting my pants on, Bailey was already dressed and running a brush through her hair.
“What do you say?” she wondered. “Should I leave you the keys?”
“Yes, please.”
She tossed me her keys, and I caught them, putting them in my back pocket. I threw a shirt on from my luggage and hurried out of the bedroom before she could leave.
She looked at her reflection, put on her sunglasses, and blew me a kiss.
“Don’t get into trouble out there,” she said. “Text me!”
“I’ll let you know what I’m up to!”
She left to meet with Leah, and I was left alone with my thoughts. Rather than immerse me entirely, I decided to take Bailey’s advice and explore. I was optimistic that Memphis could win me over.
I spotted her old acoustic guitar in her bedroom closet collecting dust, and I figured she wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it. I grabbed a guitar pick from her “pick basket” that she had by the front door. I brushed my teeth, grabbed a granola bar, and hit the road.
I went up the elevator that took me hundreds of feet up until it reached the lookout. There were some other people scattered about, most of them taking pictures. I didn’t feel like taking the guitar out of its case, but I did want to enjoy the view.
If you walked around the whole pyramid, you could indeed see all of Memphis and more. It was a nice observation deck, and it provided one of my highlights of the city.
Unfortunately, like the elevator I got into, things went down from there.
The people that I encountered during my day were rude, morose, or stoic, or all of the above. There appeared to be some solidarity among the people in terms of how to feel. No one smiled. Everyone over forty looked uncomfortable to be alive, and everyone under forty looked agitated and rushed. The homeless people I saw on the sidewalks seemed happier than the average citizen.
Around places that had a music scene it was better, but not wholly. There were many people playing instruments and singing songs without a care in the world, which was inspiring to see. The only downside is that most people walking past them barely paid any attention to the unique sounds that were being played all around them.
Another dose of reality was that, even though many of the musicians were talented and content to play, they still didn’t seem happy. It wasn’t that drain one can get when “losing the dream.” They seemed exhausted, ready for something new.
Customer service in most of the places I went to was lacking. I figured that southern hospitality would’ve been practiced all over Tennessee, but it wasn’t the case. To top it off, I was even unlucky with the meter readers. I was only two minutes late arriving back to where I’d parked Bailey’s car on the road, and someone was already there finishing up a parking ticket, eager to smack it on the windshield like a jackass.
