Carly kicks off her heels and lights the candles. “Only for you.”
I feel so unprepared and thoughtless. I haven’t done anything extra for my lovely mate. When I close the hotel room door behind us the familiar dance begins, only practiced at a slower pace, and the heat still races up my legs as she unzips my dress.
We take our time shedding our clothes, watching one another. There is still something sexy about watching my wife reveal herself one part at a time. Even though I’ve admired the canvas many times, the vision is a masterpiece, always drawing a breath out of me.
She lays me on the bed and removes my nylons; I am left with nothing on but my pearls. I raise my knees, spreading them wide.
As she moves toward me, I gently hold her at bay, pressing the sole of my foot against her hipbone. “You have to watch,” I tell her.
I move my hands over my breasts, down my trembling stomach, and rest my palms on the inside of my thighs, enjoying the smoothness of my own skin. I touch my unsheathed clit and feel moisture pump from my hole with a slight contraction of pleasure. Carly stares, lips parted. She keeps her eyes on my hands; as they stop to fondle my breasts she reaches between her legs.
“Elaine…you’re so lovely,” she pants.
My chest heaves with growing desire. I repeat this languid process, stopping this time to draw my breast to my mouth and trace my areola with my tongue. When our eyes meet, I am reminded how much I love her, how much I want to please her. I can feel her eyes take me in and I want to please her even more.
“Show me some more,” Carly says, the catch of desire in her voice. Her thighs shining wet.
Reaching under each buttock, I hold myself open for her. She strokes herself faster, each upward motion exposing her clit. She wants to close her eyes—to give in—but can’t take my dripping pussy from her sight.
“You should see how wet you are, baby,” she coos in a heavy breath.
I dip a finger in my slippery hole and then suck on it up to the second knuckle, twisting it between my pursed lips. Carly rests a knee on the edge of the mattress. Her chest is as flushed as the roses. She exposes herself with one hand, allowing me to see her two fingers disappear into pink-purple flesh.
Wanting her, I pull my knees to my chest and fuck myself at a furious pace. I hear Carly’s breath snag in her throat, then she groans. “Don’t make me come without you,” she says, her voice deep with desperation.
Her words reach my ears with the heat of a branding iron against my flesh. “Oh, I want to hear you come…” I whisper.
Her fingers increase their cadence as she rests the palm of her other hand over her mound, taking her clit between her fore- and index fingers, holding it hostage. Her hands move in unison now, her breath labored. I close my eyes and, keeping time with her panting, plunge my fingers into my tight pussy.
“Ah! Oh Jesus…watch me come,” Carly commands.
Her nipples are the hardest I’ve ever seen them, her areolae the color of antique brick. She holds my eyes until her body convulses in small spasms; when the air escapes her open mouth in forceful gusts, her orgasm reaches my ears like a percussion grenade.
Carly’s cry makes me so hot I can’t wait any longer for her touch. “I need you to fuck me! Please!” I beg her. She wastes no time in complying, forcing her hips between my legs, her long fingers hard inside me. I wrap my arms tightly under hers. She knows what I want, taking my breast in her mouth and fucking me with such force our bodies inch toward the headboard, my heels dancing on her ass. Flashes of light race through my mind. Oh God! Fuck me, Carly! I’m gonna come so hard, are only thoughts—I can’t manage to get the vowels I’m shouting to form words.
When our muscles go limp, I rock us gently, holding her between my thighs until she raises her head and looks at me. Her sparkling eyes tell me what words would destroy with their inadequacy: I love you, I’m so lucky, I feel the sun deep in the middle of my chest.
I roll over, putting myself on top of Carly, closer to the nightstand, and reach behind my head to take off my necklace.
She watches me in silence as I fold the string of pearls in half and dip the clasp into the wax that pools beneath the candle flame. The dark orbs are iridescent, like the inside of an abalone shell. I submerge the clasp several times until the small gold fittings are encased in a protective bulb of paraffin.
“Mmm…what are you doing?” Carly asks me in her “I’ve just been fucked senseless” voice.
“You’ll see,” I say, balling the pearls in my hand as I go down on her, first nipping and licking her breasts, then around her mound before moving into deeper folds. She smells of sweet, overripe fruit.
When she arches her pelvis against me, I work the strand inside her vagina, all the while keeping her hard bud exposed to the wandering tip of my tongue.
“Are we going to get those back?” Carly pants through a faint smile.
I leave two pearls dangling from her. “One at a time.”
Kissing the inside of her knees and thighs, I let the tension build.
“Did you find your treasure, Sultan?” Carly spoke as her tight stomach heaved with anticipation, the delicate muscles rippling like snakeskin.
I smile in recognition of her wanting to play and grow serious with my response. “I have looked everywhere in my harem; I have not.” My mouth took in as much of her breast as it could hold. She threw her hands above her head, pressing her palms against the headboard.
“When I find the thief I will take his hand, or worse.” I run my desperate mouth down Carly’s writhing side and up again, licking her underarm.
“Is there a reward for the return of your precious gems?” She sucks on my earlobe.
“I will share my bed with her forever.” I kiss each rib. “Are you sure you do not know where my pearls might have gone?”
“I confess, Sultan, I’ve had them in safekeeping.”
Reaching between her swollen labia, I take the first pearl between my index and middle fingers. “You shall be rewarded.” I begin to tug on the string.
Carly gasps as the third small orb appears. Her pubic hair is cropped short, allowing me to see everything.
I suck on her engorged clit; it’s hard and slick, reluctant to rest between my lips. Her hands position my head as she wants it. As other sisters on the strand slowly make their exit, Carly’s sighs grow deeper and more labored. After years of translation, I understand her language and wait for the moment she will draw her deepest breath and hold it for a couple of seconds before the long cry of ecstasy begins. And when she does, I wait a beat before pulling the long strand out all at once, in a single motion.
Even with her hands pressed over my ears, I can hear her praise.
Carly pulls me on top of her and holds me tight; my rib cage can hardly expand enough to allow me to breathe. Aftershocks wrack her body as if she has a raging fever.
Carly caresses my face in front of hers. “You’ve never done that before,” she says incredulously.
“I’ve never had pearls before.”
Notice Me
Gun Brooke
The first note came when I had just sat down and the waiter brought me my glass of Chardonnay. He placed a tiny silver tray before me, and on it was a tiny light blue envelope.
“A message for you, ma’am.”
“From whom?”
The paper was thick and clearly expensive.
“I don’t know. The maître d’ gave it to me.”
“Very well. Thank you.” I waited until he left before I opened the envelope and unfolded the note.
If you knew me, you’d know how out of character this is for me and how long I debated with myself before writing this note, but I decided that I simply had to let you know.
You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The way you laugh, the way throw your head and your long blond hair streams down your back, sets me on fire.
I don’t have the courage to approach you directly, so I chose this way to say wh
at’s in my heart; you are amazing.
Miriam
The handwriting was neat and even, with no distinctive markings. I looked closer and it appeared as if it had been written with a fountain pen, not just a regular ballpoint. I drew a deep breath and furtively looked around, but none of the other guests seemed to be paying any attention to me. Miriam. I didn’t know anybody by that name. The name was slightly exotic, and the note more than intriguing.
Caballeros was my favorite tapas restaurant, and I had been here more times than I could count the last two years. The maître d’ knew me by name and so did the two bartenders. Sometimes men would try to chat me up, but I always declined. But for some reason…this note, it stirred a feeling of strange and bewildering anticipation.
On my way out I asked the maitre if she knew who’d sent me the note.
“Yes, I do,” she said. “Miriam Rosenberg. She’s a regular.”
A regular? I was a regular.
“Really? Could you point her out to me?” Quite unexpectedly, my heart raced and my palms grew moist.
“No, I’m sorry, Ms. Carr. She left shortly after you arrived.”
“Where does she usually sit?” I was embarrassed at how eager I sounded, but the maître d’ merely smiled politely.
“Ms. Rosenberg favors the bar or one of the corner booths.”
On my way home in the cab I tried to remember the many faces I’d seen in the bar over the past few weeks. It was an impossible task since there had been an endless row of nameless faces and I was beyond the age when I had unabashedly checked out other women. After losing my partner, I focused on work, and I rarely allowed myself a night of pleasure with a stranger.
Except this note. I let my fingers close around it in my coat pocket. There was something endearing about her shy message.
The second note came a week later when I once again sat at the bar at Caballeros. The bartender reached under the counter and gave me an envelope; this time it was hot pink. “Ellie, I have a note for you.”
Another one! I forced my hand to go slowly as I reached for it. “Thanks. Who from?”
“Miriam. She left just before you came.”
I know now your name is Eleanor. The bartender calls you Ellie and it sounds wonderful. Soft.
I sit here with my favorite margarita, black currant, and the bartender tells me she thinks you’ll be in later for a drink, since it’s Wednesday.
I’m that predictable? Damn, it sure sounds boring. And true. I kept reading.
I can picture you perched on the tall stool next to me, your green eyes glittering down at me as you listen. You rest your hand on my arm when you laugh…and of course this is all a dream. You just take my breath away.
Miriam
I reread the note. She fantasizes about me looking down at her… Down? She’s short? I had to smile at myself.
“Good news?” The bartender winked and placed another glass on the shelf behind her.
“Humorous.” I felt my cheeks warm and quickly tucked Miriam’s note into my purse. I had no intention of answering this strange woman, no matter how curious I was. After all, she could be an axe murderer for all I knew. Oh right.
I paid for my margarita, and only then did it strike me that Miriam and I had the same taste in drinks.
I didn’t get another note for the next two weeks, despite my regular twice-weekly stops at Caballeros. I sat at home and stared at my computer screen, my mind completely blank when I thought about the article I was supposed to start working on. One minute my hands rested motionless on the keyboard, and the next, they pulled my black wool coat from the hanger and I was on my way out for an impromptu visit to the restaurant.
“Ellie,” the bartender, Sandy, said warmly. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. What a nice outfit.”
I was dressed on the verge of casual in black gabardine slacks and a black turtleneck. The only thing not black was the thick gold chain belt around my hips. “Thanks, Sandy. I do try.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re very trying. What can I get you? A margarita?”
“No, not tonight.” I didn’t want to have what she usually drank. It was probably stupid, but I didn’t want to have the same taste as her in my mouth. It felt too…intimate. “I’ll have a glass of champagne, please.”
“There’s a note for you again.” Sandy handed it over; this time, a light blue piece of paper folded in three. She had a funny little lopsided grin playing on her mouth, which puzzled me. “You’re popular.”
“Oh. Thanks.” My mouth was impossibly dry despite the champagne, which I thirstily sipped again.
I opened the note, my heart seeming to slow to a standstill.
Ellie,
You are always in my thoughts, even if I haven’t been able to go out for over a week. Isn’t it silly how a case of the common flu can put a stop to most things in life? Here I was dreaming of you, and blowing my nose and taking cough drops at the same time. And you know what…it was still so romantic. Yes, I know you must be laughing, but it’s true.
Now when I’m well again, and back at work, it’s as if I see you everywhere. I shiver each time I spy a tall blonde dressed in black, hurrying down the street—sure it’s you. What is that a sign of? That I’m losing it? Perhaps.
I wish I could just pick up the phone and call you, ask you how your day was. We could finally meet at Caballeros and have our margaritas together, perhaps exchange a few thoughts on life’s hurdles and mysteries.
Perhaps.
Miriam
No matter how I tried, I couldn’t see this note coming from a stalker. It sounded far too caring, and cautious, to come from someone about to haul out duct tape and a stiletto at any given moment. I reread Miriam’s note. Perhaps.
I suddenly needed some privacy, if only for a moment. The note had left me with a prickly feeling on my skin, and I just wanted to splash some cold water on my hot cheeks and compose myself. As I passed along the bar on my way to the ladies room, I came to a quick halt when someone swung her legs, long, nicely shaped legs in black nylon stockings, into the aisle to leave. My eyes darted toward her face and looked into dark brown, surprised eyes.
“’Scuse me,” I murmured, intending to circle her and keep walking.
“Oh, my.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. No problem.”
She sounded as breathless as I’d felt after reading Miriam’s note…my head snapped up and I quickly glanced at the bartender, who nodded vigorously.
“Miriam?” The question left my lips before I had time to think.
“Ellie.” She sounded taken aback.
Miriam was gorgeous—skin like melted dark chocolate and shining black hair, long and curly with subtle highlights, an exclusive hairdo that could only have been created by one of Chicago’s premier hair stylists. Her emerald green skirt and jacket discreetly revealed enticing curves, and a gold locket rested just above the neckline of her white silk blouse.
“Nice to meet you.” I grimaced, knowing how awkward I sounded.
“No need for pretense,” Miriam said with a faint smile. “I’m sure the pleasure is all mine.”
In fact it wasn’t true. This is nuts. Just get out of here and back to work. My inner, sensible voice went unnoticed. “Ah…want to get a table?”
“Why not.” She hesitated. “If you want to?”
“Sure,” I heard myself say.
We sat down in the corner booth.
“So, this wasn’t how I planned it.” Miriam shrugged with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not a stalker—”
“I didn’t get the impression you were, either,” I quickly interrupted. “We wouldn’t be sitting here if I thought so.”
“Unless you’re stalling until the cops show up.” She winked.
The impish look on her face was irresistible and I broke into laughter. She smiled with apparent relief, and we went on to talk of ordinary things for more than an hour. I thought I could hear traces of immense loneliness and sorr
ow in her voice, but the more primitive part of my brain was on overload, checking out her stunning face and imagining her curvy body without clothes. It should’ve shocked me, but somehow I got the feeling she was doing the same. I had no idea what she saw in a woman like me, without a doubt looking colorless and dull next to her exotic beauty.
“You amaze me,” Miriam suddenly said, her voice darker and full of fire.
“How is that?”
“You have this aloofness about you, and yet you seem to be the nicest person I’ve seen in a long time.”
“Um, now you’ve lost me.”
“As you might have understood from my notes, I’d been watching you from afar for quite a while.” A faint blush crept up Miriam’s cheeks, giving her complexion a reddish tint. “And you are always so nice to everyone here. They adore you. I think it was the kind way you treat people that first caught my attention.”
“You must’ve hid rather well, because, believe it or not, I’ve never seen you in here.” I knew I had to be honest, even if it was hardly a compliment.
“I’m good at being inconspicuous.” Miriam raised her glass of water. “Here’s to finally meeting. Cheers.”
“Meeting. Cheers.”
We sat in silence for a while, content with just looking at each other, or so it felt. Miriam’s full lips parted and showed charmingly uneven teeth in a white smile. “You look so incredible,” she whispered. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”
“You have got to be joking. You’re the gorgeous one. I have no idea what you see in me, but…I’m glad you wrote those notes.” I nearly choked on my iced tea when a stocking-clad foot stroked inside my pants leg. “Miriam…” One hot wave after another seemed to drown out all common sense. “Oh, God…” My stomach twisted into a knot and the sensation spread down between my legs. And all this from the mere touch of her foot?
Lessons in Love Page 9
