Thursdays in Savannah

by Olivia Gaines

  It had been a long time since he had been this turned on by a woman. The need to have her consumed his every thought. All he wanted was to be inside of her, but the hesitation that held him back was that he had not even coupled with her and knew he would want more. “This is fricking crazy, you know that right?” He kissed her again, applying a bit of pressure with his hips.

  “I don’t care, all I know is how badly I need you. I can’t wait to feel you inside of me, Jesse,” she mumbled as her anxious hands roamed over his back, sinking her nails into the flesh, encouraging him to connect their bodies.

  “Not as badly as I need you.” He grabbed her hand and pushed it down to where their bodies were about to be joined. “Can you feel that? That is prom night hard.”

  Everything about Jesse was big and once her hand touched where he instructed, Savannah’s eyes closed as she drifted away into a quiet world where only the two of them would exist. “Look at me,” he growled at her. She lifted her heavy head out of the soft pillows, looked up with her brown eyes met the stinging intensity of his irises, which were now a brilliant cerulean blue. He slipped a pillow under her hips as he leaned forward, to kiss her and thrust himself into her. Savannah’s breath caught in her throat, as he held her gaze. She felt so full of Jesse.

  He pulled back slightly and pushed, more gently this time, into her again whispering, “Damn, that is a snug fit and you feel so good.” He buried his head in her shoulder and began to work his hips incrementally as he inserted himself farther into her. Jesse’s lips connected again with her own as he raised her thigh to gain deeper access. He felt her body tense up and watched her face as she winced. “Is it painful for you?” he asked.

  “Yes, a little bit,” she mumbled into the thickness of his shoulder. “But I like it.... I like it a lot.” She moved cautiously, providing timid movements with her hips, but her eyes were telling him something more. Jesse shifted himself and took a few minutes to allow her body to adjust to his invasion.

  “You’re holding back, Savannah. Let go, let me feel you enjoying me,” he whispered in her ear, along with a few things that seem to loosen her reserve. She followed his instructions as goose bumps grew up and down her arms again. She rolled her right hip upwards and thrust it at him. Jesse moaned. The same action was followed with her left hip and he called to the Holy Trinity, closing his eyes. She locked her legs around his hips and rolled him to his back as all the tension began to leave her body. She moved her hips to work him all in, relishing the feeling of him inside of her. The thickness of him pressed against her walls, his length filling her up and stroking her from the inside, which brought an increase in her movements. Her desire peaked and she needed all of him at once. His eyes were closed.

  “Look at me,” she whispered as the freedom to express herself sexually was unlocked and she let go. She began slowly at first, riding him like a bar bull, gradually rocking forward, lifting, and rocking back. These actions were repeated over and over as she stared into his eyes. His calloused hands held her hips, the rough skin of his palms moving up and down her flesh, encouraging her to move as she needed.

  “Jesse.” She whispered his name as she felt her passion building. It wasn’t enough. She needed extra movement from him. “Give me more, Jesse, I need more.”

  Before she knew it, she was face down on the bed and he was behind her. The pillow was under her stomach as he worked, thrust, and worked her some more. He used long strokes as his lower abdomen slapped against her hips, his givers of life hitting her low. In minutes she was at her climax and he pulled away.

  “Not yet, my lovely, but soon.”

  Jesse kissed her shoulders and rolled her to her back. Sweat soaked and breathing heavily, she reached for him, silently pleading for him to end the sweet suffering. He grabbed the can of whipped cream and sprayed a foamy circle on each of her nipples. Leisurely and rhythmically, his fingers tortured her, his thumb massaging the queen in the tower. He licked the whipped cream from her nipples; she was so close. Without warning, he plunged back into her, allowing his fingers to continue to work as she bucked her hips furiously against him. Her hands beat on his chest and she let go, screaming his name as tears began pouring from her eyes. He was still working her as he reached his climax, trying to catch his own breath, thrusting hard, gritting his teeth. Jesse’s powerful body was pushing, thrusting, and pumping himself into her as the woman in her clamped around him, milking him. Their bodies collapsed in a heap of sweat, arms and legs entangled as they both breathed hard. He spoke only one word as he wiped away the cleansing tears streaming down her face, “Damn.” He held her close, breathing in her spirit, unable to voice what he was feeling. Her tears were indicative of how repressed she had been sexually and letting go was the start of something new for Savannah.

  Jesse extricated himself and went to the bathroom to flush the waste. Savannah pulled back the bed covers to welcome him into her bed when he returned. He leaned back into the pillows and pulled her by the arm to lie on his chest. Her skirt was still on, but twisted. He hadn’t bothered to remove her underwear, which was now giving her an evil wedgie, while one shoe still dangled from her foot. Savannah Niden had experienced something for the first time in her life: sexual satisfaction.

  She had to keep this to herself. Savannah made a mental decision to close the door to the outside world. While she was here with Jesse, she would allow herself to be free. She had a year before she walked down the aisle. One year to be with Jesse – that is if he was willing to share these stolen moments.

  The evening ended in a darkened room with two bodies moving against each other in the wee hours of the morning. Jesse whispered her name as he claimed her body, teaching it to respond to his touch. Savannah wasn’t going to take the risk of never again experiencing the intensity of what they had shared. Once more would not make a difference now. She had already cheated. She may as well enjoy herself.

  The alarm sounded at six am. A sore, weary, and cheerful Savannah made breakfast consisting of egg white omelets with spinach and Swiss cheese. When she packed her lunch of a turkey breast sandwich on wheat, a container of Progresso soup, and an apple, she packed a brown bag for the maintenance man as well. Jesse slowly descended the stairs, wearing black carpenter pants and a blue Montgomery Construction shirt. His eyes were droopy, but not red-rimmed as he yawned like a big bear waking up from hibernation. Hmmmm, he brought a change of clothing.

  “Good morning,” he said as he walked up behind her, enveloped her in his arms, and placed a kiss on her jaw line.

  “Did you sleep okay, Jesse?” she asked as she placed a plate on the table for him.

  “I slept when you allowed me to.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “You are indeed an exceptional lover.” He sampled the omelet. “And a good cook, too.”

  After a quick blessing of the food, they dug into breakfast. No words were spoken, just smiles across the table at the other, remembering the passionate night they had shared. After Jesse washed the dishes, he squatted by the door, donning his work boots. Savannah handed him a brown bag with the two sandwiches and an apple. “Your lunch for today.” It may have been too much, but she was thankful for the evening they shared. She always heeded Mama’s Rules of Man Care: make him feel cared for.

  Jesse stared at the brown paper bag. She made me lunch. He pulled her in for another kiss. “A man could get used to this because you are indeed something special, Savannah Niden.”

  The one thing that was lacking with Darwin was honesty, especially when it came to what she wanted and needed to say. If Jesse was going to be a part of her life, in whatever fashion, they would have to start out with truthfulness. As she faced him, his hands caressed her arms, her left hand resting across his heart while she spoke to him. “Last night, you were everything I had hoped, more than I expected, and exactly what I needed.” She gave him a squeeze and stepped back.

  With his tool belt on, boots laced, and lunch stuck in his toolbox, Jesse leaned against the door ja
mb looking back at her. Words bounced around in his head like ping-pong balls springing against what he was feeling, thinking, and wanting. Adding to the uncertainty of his actions in tilling another man’s soil, he wasn’t quite sure what to say since he wanted more of her, so he said the first thing that came to mind, “Tinkerbell.”

  Savannah furrowed her brow trying to connect her words to a fairy tale creature. He walked over to her and slipped his arms about her waist.

  A light kiss was planted on the side of her face before he spoke. “When I was 17, my dad gave me a Camaro. I had it painted and added yellow and red flames painted down the nose fading into the sleek body.”

  “Every time I slid inside of her, I gave her a few gentle touches and she would come alive under me. No matter how hard I pushed her, she responded, giving me everything she had.”

  He licked his index finger and touched her right nipple, which hardened at his touch. “Her gears were so smooth, all it took was a finger or two to get her revved up and man, once she warmed up it was like flying on the wind. The connection between us was unlike anything I had ever experienced.”

  He paused and looked into her eyes, the crystal blue turning cerulean as he licked his bottom lip. “That is, until now.”

  Savannah swallowed hard, gulping back the rising emotions in her voice and the swirl of feelings in her pants. “I take it you named her Tinkerbell?”

  He kissed her hard on the mouth, reluctantly letting go. “You have the number.” That was all he said, as he again walked out her front door.

  Savannah stared at the entrance, filled with dread, impure thoughts and a terrible knowledge that she had made her third and final mistake. She let Jesse Orison into her bed, and he liked it. The real problem was so did she and her body was looking forward to the next encounter.

  Chapter Five

  Friday was a very quiet day. Savannah smiled to herself as she ran test tubes through the centrifuge. Remembering Jesse’s soft words in her ear as he encouraged her to let go sent a rush of feelings through her body and butterflies to her stomach. It was hard to feel guilty about doing something wrong, when something so wrong felt so good.

  Her mother called at lunchtime to schedule a shopping date for Saturday morning. Savannah was uncertain why she agreed, but it was her mother and she needed to focus on something other than the man who was in her bed last night. Tonight, she would head to Sheryl’s for book club and Saturday night, it would be dinner at Darwin’s with his parents.

  Nice and orderly, just as it should be.

  Friday Night

  Her mind wandered all during book club and she found herself daydreaming and smiling at the most inopportune moments. Her friends and fellow bibliophiles fancied she was wandering off into the land of bridal gowns and intricately embroidered veils. The group was reading Hard Lessons by Ruth P. Watson, which made Savannah frown a bit. This whole situation with Jesse was going to be a hard lesson, but life was too short and so was her engagement.

  Order was for chumps and she wanted to feel alive, if only for a moment.

  Saturday Morning

  Emurial Niden could almost smell another man on her daughter’s skin. “I hope he’s worth losing everything you have worked so hard to obtain.” Savannah pretended to be shocked, appalled, and offended at her mother’s words. With a twist of her lips and a roll of her eyes, her mother quickly let her know she wasn’t buying it, especially after she saw her daughter buy something skimpy and sexy at Victoria’s Secret.

  Emurial was full of skepticism and asked her daughter, with some reservations, “You think Darwin will like that in red?”

  “I’m not certain, Mama, but I can only try.”

  An attempt with Darwin was all that Savannah ever made since her fiancé was not an adventurous type of man. If he liked something, he wanted the same thing all the time. If he hated it, he never wanted to see it again. When they made love, he liked her on the bottom, with absolutely no deviations. If he liked the red outfit, he would want her to wear it every time they made love. As she told her mother, I can only try.

  Saturday Night

  Trying was the perfect word on Saturday evening. Darwin’s mother sat around making snarky comments about Savannah’s favorite blue dress, saying it made her skin tone look sickly. Ann Marie Finney was not a woman to be trifled with. Social reputations lived and died at her word. “That color is all wrong for your skin tone dear. A warm complexioned woman should dress like a red-head, in pinks and lavenders, to make her skin shimmer.”

  Savannah’s tight smile was frozen on her face, telling her future mother-in-law that she would make a note to never wear this dress to any function with these people, but it was one of her favorite dresses and she was keeping it. Dinner was stiff and the conversation was dull, but the food was digestible. Darwin’s father sat there like a dark lump of bituminous coal, ready to be used, but not quite enough quality to burn hot. Everything on the dinner plate was like Darwin’s dad. It could have used more panache, some flavor, and a touch of wow.

  The first chair violinist at the Alabama Symphony Orchestra was one of the dinner guests. She played beautifully as the family sat with half-filled glasses of wine for an impromptu private concert. Closed eyes savored each well-played note while heads bobbed and weaved as if the melodic tunes were floating the small audience away on clouds of merriment and hope. To Savannah, they looked like well-coiffed cobras being charmed by the pungi. The audience provided rounds of applause to the artist before members of the small group disbanded, saying their good nights and wishing other attendees well.

  It was a quick drive over the hill to Darwin’s home, where Savannah revealed her sexy surprise for the evening. He hated the red lingerie, saying it made her look cheap, and asked her to remove it. She returned to the bed in a white cotton nightgown and returned his kisses that were too wet, as she tried to accept his entry into her body, which was not nearly wet enough. Darwin made a bumbled attempt at foreplay, but soon her mind wandered to Jesse, which shifted her into high gear.

  She became aggressive and Darwin’s eagerness to have her dwindled, forcing an apology on her part. “You got me so worked up Darwin. I don’t know what came over me.” He accepted her apology and four minutes later, she lay there, smiling in the dark, telling him lies that he made her feel good, but she was not dishonest with her words when she told him she was lucky to have him in her life.

  Sunday Morning

  Darwin and Savannah attended church service, put something in the collection plate, and headed to her mother’s for Sunday dinner. A nice, simple pot roast with vegetables, a green salad and crusty rolls seemed like a five course dinner after last night’s dry rubbed meat and stiff mashed potatoes.

  “I am so pleased that Savannah inherited your cooking skills, Mrs. Niden,” Darwin complimented her mother. On the way home, he would complain that the food was too salty and would probably make him swell up.

  “It is the reason why so many of our people are riddled with high blood pressure, diabetes, and gout,” he told her as if she did not research those diseases for a living.

  Savannah packed a doggy bag so she could have a bit more for supper later and use some of the meat tomorrow for lunch. A couple of flour tortillas and she would have soft tacos for her mid-day meal. Nothing was ever wasted with her. Everything had to count.

  The start of the workweek was daunting as Savannah hit a few snags. Vials had been improperly labeled, causing the wrong batches to be sampled, and she would have to start Phase IV of the research all over again. Explaining this to her boss only exacerbated the frustration in her week. By Wednesday, she was tense and experiencing a major migraine, and ready to end a few people’s lives. As an assistant professor at the University, she taught a few courses each quarter, but her strength was in the research portions and grant writing. It was the livelihood of her department and it was up to her to keep everything on track and on budget. If there was one thing she knew better than all others, it was how
to maintain a budget.

  On Thursday, she had everything back on trajectory and had to write up her lab tech for a poor job performance that had caused the setbacks. She arrived home at a quarter of five with two steaks, a head of butter leaf lettuce and some artesian dinner rolls. The phone somehow magically appeared in her hand and she punched in the number.

  “Hey you,” she said when he answered.

  “Hey back, my lovely lady.”

  “I have two steaks.”

  “I have a bottle of wine.”

  “How long ...”

  “I’m downstairs. I was just waiting for you to call.”

  “The front door will be unlocked.”

  No need to let good money go to waste on that lovely number she bought at Victoria’s Secret. She bound up the stairs by twos, freshened up, changed into the sexy red outfit, dabbed some cologne on her inner thighs and stood at the top of the stairs.

  Jesse entered the front door and called her name.

  “I’m up here, Jesse.”

  He looked up the stairs and nearly dropped the wine. Slowly, in heels that were way too high, she made each footfall closer to him count, her breasts bouncing freely in the lacy outfit. He was devouring her with his eyes as she allowed each long leg to extend before her foot touched the stair. When she reached the final step, she landed onto the hardwood floor with the clicking of her heels and sent blood rushing through his body. Jesse turned his back to her and double checked the door to make sure it was locked, grabbed his small bag, removed something from it, and turned back to face her as he sat the wine on the floor.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” was all he said as he snatched her into his arms, struggling to get his pants down, putting on the protection and kissing her all at the same time. “Help me, Savannah,” he pleaded as he struggled with the zipper, still trying to land kisses upon her mouth. His boots were already by the door. He kicked off a pant leg to better position himself as he hefted Savannah up in his arms, impaling her with his desire. Calloused hands felt magical as palms, rough like a loofah, caressed the soft skin on her buttocks, lifting and lowering her rapidly as he thrust his hips upwards to meet the downward pulling of her body to his. She cried out as she found her release immediately, followed soon by Jesse’s.