Romance: Hard

by Penny Ward

He pulls the hair back from my shoulder and kisses my neck gently, “And I’m going to fuck you good.”

  I want to melt.

  I can’t handle this.

  My heart is pounding.

  Oh…

  He kisses my neck gently and moves his lips to my shoulder, gently pulling the strap of my dress.

  Oh, he smells so good…

  Yum.

  As my heart pounds, his hands reach around to unclip the back of my dress, and then he gently runs his fingers under my shoulder straps. Filled with nerves, I stand motionless, unsure of what to do next. He softly pulls the straps from my shoulders and lowers the dress, and my underwear to the floor, leaving my body exposed again. His hands run up the soft skin of my body, sending shivers dancing over me.

  Please, take me. Take me now.

  His touch leaves my body but I do not turn around. I listen to the sound of his suit being removed - his tie being loosened and his shirt becoming unbuttoned. I slightly look over my right shoulder to see his eyes focused on my naked bottom. He moans deeply as his hands return to my body, gripping the cheeks of my behind tightly.

  “This..,” he states. “This is very nice.”

  Finally, I gain the courage to turn around. As I do, his tender lips land on mine and we embrace in a passionate kiss filled with lust. The nerves are gone the second he kisses me. I feel comfortable filled with desire. My hands dance all over his topless body, and his hands do the same to mine. The more I kiss this man, the more I want to kiss him. The more he kisses me, the more primal I become.

  I need his body. I need him inside me. I can’t contain it any more. I grab his hand and lead him quickly into the bedroom, but notice he still has his trousers on.

  “They need to come off,” I state firmly.

  I stand at the end of the bed and watch as Mr. White drops his trousers, and then his jocks, to the floor. And he’s naked again… Oh yes, he’s naked again.

  Mr. White follows my movements as I back onto the bed and he starts by kissing the inside of my right leg, moving his gentle kisses up to the inside of my thigh. The kisses fill me with anticipation.

  His tongue touches my wetness and I instantly let out a yelp of pleasure. He kisses my pussy again and licks my clit with his tongue.

  “Fuck!!!” my head throws back in uncontrollable pleasure.

  His tongue begins to gently dance on my clit as his fingers touch my wet pussy.

  Fuck. Yes. His lips come around my clit and he gently sucks on it, sending my head to another place.

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  My hands grips the bed covers tightly, and my head throws back, my breathing quickens and my pussy throbs with the need for his cock.

  But he keeps his wet lips around my clit.

  My hips grind against his mouth.

  Yes…

  Fuck… yes….

  My body arches back as I moan in desire…

  Oh…

  Yes!

  I am so wet and I desperately need his cock inside me.

  I have never needed anything more in my life.

  “Fuck me,” I demand of Mr. White.

  He obliges, standing over me missionary style. Guiding his member towards my pussy, he easily slides his hard cock into my wetness.

  When he forces his hard cock in deep, he holds it there.

  Oh yes.

  His eyes look down to mine and I connect with his gaze. His eyes are deep and the connection takes my breath away.

  His hands smooth over my curves, and a smile gently comes across his face. He is ready. I am ready.

  “Please…” I moan.

  And then…

  Fuck! Yes!

  He begins to thrust.

  Hard.

  As he thrusts his hard cock into me, I have my breath taken away again. Yes. I grip tightly onto his strong arms, holding on as he pumps me.

  I want to eat him all up.

  He is amazing.

  He thrusts harder, pumping and pumping his member into me.

  He brings my legs up to his shoulders and as his hips thrust into me, his arms pull my legs back down. Oh yes.

  He rams me and I try to grip the bed’s edge to hold still. His member is reaching me in places that send my mind to another world.

  Wow.

  Pressing my hands against his manly chest, it is everything I ever imagined. It is so toned and hot. So strong.

  And still he rams into me.

  He withdraws and aggressively turns my body over, leaning me forward on the bed. I poke my wet pussy out for him and he quickly finds the spot. Oh yes, he finds the spot.

  Wow.

  He continues to pump and I quickly release over his cock.

  Wow.

  Mr. White withdraws his cock from my pussy, and lies back onto the bed. Climbing on top of his great body, I am shaking from the orgasm I have just had.

  When over him, I hold his hard cock in my left hand and place my pussy lips at the top of his member. This feels so right. Oh yes, this feels right.

  I hold still and let my wet pussy juice flow over his strong piece.

  As I hesitate, he almost explodes in anticipation.

  We both hold our breath, and then I swallow him all in one go.

  When I move my hips I feel him so deep inside me. I feel every part of his perfectly shaped member inside my pussy.

  I am so dripping wet. I place my finger inside his mouth and his sweet lips lap on my skin as I swivel my hips over him.

  He moans with pleasure.

  My thighs push me up and down, and I start to bounce on him. I press my hands firmly into his chest, leaning forward, and bounce my pussy on his member. Oh, that feels so good.

  I squeal again.

  I can’t contain it.

  I bounce quicker and watch Mr. White throw his head backwards into the bed. He moans deeply and his hands grip at the bed. His hips thrust upwards into me and I feel his warmth squirt inside me, forcing me to squeal again.

  I stop bouncing and lean all the way forward, resting my head against his chest.

  We both take a very long time to catch our breath…

  12

  “You didn’t?!”

  Marissa can tell straight away.

  “How did you know?” I ask in surprise as I walk into the gallery.

  “As if I can’t tell. There is a smile from your left ear to your right ear. That could only mean one thing.”

  It’s true.

  Only one thing has ever made me feel like this. Only one person has ever made me feel so wanted and sexy. Only one person has ever filled me with so much desire and passion.

  “At the opening on Friday night, he came back into the gallery last night and left a card.”

  “Only a card?”

  “He didn’t say a word to me. He walked in, smiled and left a card like the first one.”

  “Oh my. How sexy!”

  “And smooth. And confident. And… and everything! I couldn’t say no to that,” I explain.

  “So he didn’t say anything to you when he gave you the card?”

  “Not a word.”

  “And what exactly did the card say?” Marissa asks.

  “It said ‘Same hotel. Same room. Tomorrow Night. Nine o’clock.’”

  “Wow… he must have really liked the night as well!”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” I reply cheekily.

  “Oh no, Amber. I’m sure you are wonderful as well, but I thought that you laid down the rules? That you weren’t to talk to each other again?”

  “I did! But I think this guy plays by his own rules. I don’t think he has been told what to do very often in his life. He is so full of confidence it’s overwhelming.”

  “Did you consider not going?”

  “Maybe…”

  Marissa laughs again, “Wow. You are going to need a few coffees today if it has put that big a smile on your face. It sounds like that man is going to wear you out!”

  “He is f
it…”

  “Do you think he’ll be back?” Marissa enquires. “Possibly leave another card?”

  “I hope so.”

  “You’re going to be regular fuck bubbies now?”

  I laugh. I have never had a fuck bubby before. I had heard that people had ‘friends with benefits’ but I never thought that I would have the confidence to do it. I never thought that I would have one – especially not with the sexiest man in the city.

  But this is the new me.

  It is liberating knowing that someone wants me for my body.

  It’s nice to be appreciated for your intelligence and personality, but there is something primal about a man wanting you for your body. It feels erotic.

  “Be careful you don’t fall for him then,” Marissa hands across a cup of coffee and a dose of wisdom. “You don’t want to get lust confused with love. Remember that you are just using him for sex. Nothing more. Don’t get caught up in the whirlwind of a new relationship and confuse that for love.”

  “Why not? What is so bad about using a man just for his body? Men do it all the time.”

  “But women aren’t programmed like men. We feel something on the inside, whereas they just want something to feel with their hands. Women can’t just walk away like men can. Our hearts are always more involved than our hands.”

  “Maybe this is the exception?”

  What am I saying? Of course this is not the exception.

  A relationship wouldn’t work between us anyway. Marissa is right - I am just getting caught up in the hurricane of lust and desire.

  “Sometimes relationships like this work out but more often than not, it doesn’t,” Marissa says. “You want to build a relationship on who you are, you don’t want it just to be about your body. Quite often, people enter these sorts of relationships all free and wild, but then only one of them falls in love. That can lead to devastating heartbreak – trust me, I know.”

  “What happened to you?”

  Marissa stares into her coffee for a while before answering.

  “I met a guy in a bar once. We talked and we hit it off. I should have known right then that it would have been a bad idea. But we agreed that we would just have a casual relationship built around the need for sex. And it was wonderful sex. Mind-blowing. The best of my life. But every time we slept together, I fell for him a little bit more. The more I knew about him, the more I liked him.”

  “What happened?”

  “It ended.”

  “Why?”

  “He started seeing someone else. I was devastated. Heartbroken. Even now, ten years on, when I think about it, my heart still hurts. I never made it clear that I wanted something more. And I wondered for years that if I didn’t sleep with him on that first night, would things have been different? Would we still be together? But that is the gamble you have to take with a fling. On one hand, you can have the best sex of your life, or on the other hand, you have a chance at a long-term relationship. But you’ll be fine if you don’t fall for him. Don’t get caught up in the lust.”

  “I want to ask him about his life. I want to know what he does for a living, Marissa.”

  “Be careful,” Marissa states strongly. “This is how heartbreak starts. You should leave it at the sex.”

  “But I think I really want to know more…”

  “Be careful, Amber. If you really think you want more, then you have to be upfront about it. You have to be straight with him and tell him how you feel. But he may say that he doesn’t want anything more than sex. A lot of men are like that. And then you are left with a choice – ask the question and hope that he feels the same, or just enjoy it for what it is – the best sex you’ll ever experience.”

  Damn.

  That sounds like a hard choice...

  ****

  Just when I start to convince myself that it is ok to fall for my delicious one-night stand, another email arrives from Joel and I am reminded what I really want from a man.

  I read the email over and over again, mesmerized by his beautiful use of words.

  My heart melts at the thought of this lonely artist sitting in his studio, depicting his feelings through paint.

  I want to be there.

  I want to be standing next to him as he unleashes his emotions and creates amazing works of art. That’s what I want from a man.

  I want to be inspired – not seduced.

  I want to be stimulated by his mind – not his body.

  I want to be in love with the man – not his abs.

  Mr. One-Night Stand can be forgotten. My perfect man is communicating with me via email and we are getting more and more personal each time. I want to meet him and share those feelings over a glass of wine.

  Mr. White is entertainment.

  Nothing more. I know that now. Joel is what I want.

  I spend the next hour communicating with Joel via email, talking about life, love and the future. He tells me that he just wants to paint – he doesn’t want any of the pressure that goes with it. He just wants to disappear into the mountains and let his creativity flow where there are no restrictions, or restraints, on what he can deliver.

  I ask him why he doesn’t do that and he responds that he is committed to delivering more work. He explains that he has become addicted to the money and the luxuries that it affords. He loves to travel and explore and the money enables him to do that. Asking what the best thing about the money is, he responds that it is the way women react to it. That was not the response I was expecting.

  He explains that the women he meets are seduced by the dollars and he loves that. He loves that he doesn’t have to expose his personality to seduce a woman, he only has to flash his dollars and they become smitten. He asks me if I am seeing anyone and I consider my response for a long time before replying:

  Occasionally.

  Asking him the same question, he responses in kind:

  Sometimes.

  Pressuring him to meet, I ask when he is free for a casual coffee. Responding quickly, he explains that we will meet… but not yet. He wants to know more about me before he is willing to meet. I love that. I love that he wants to know about me. He doesn’t even know what I look like and he still wants to know about me. That makes me feel valued as a person.

  I feel like I am worth something to him.

  I definitely have to meet this man…

  13

  Another gallery opening, another card.

  “Mr. White was here again tonight,” Marissa smiles at me as we clean up after the small exhibition. “He bought two of the show’s paintings. I processed them and he barely said a word to me. Did you speak to him?”

  “No,” I grin.

  “Then why are you grinning like the world’s luckiest girl?”

  “Because he left me another card.”

  “He left you another card! What?! Show me.”

  I hand the card to Marissa and it is exactly the same as the last one;

  ‘Same hotel. Same room. Tomorrow night. Nine o’clock.’

  “Oh my, that is sexy. He must be enjoying your little encounters as much as you are. You lucky girl.”

  I love these little encounters in the exhibition openings.

  It is a fleeting moment but it is special. These small encounters fill me with lust and desire.

  But it is time to start asking myself the hard questions about our encounters.

  Do I want more from him?

  Or am I just caught up in the desire and passion?

  There is no doubt I lust after his body. And lust is such a powerful feeling. The lust that I have experienced has gone beyond emotional now. I have a physical need to spend a night with him. My body craves his touch.

  I am almost addicted to him. I am almost addicted to that body.

  But every time I start to drift into the dream that is Mr. White, Joel jumps back into my mind. On one hand, I have the world’s most perfect body and on the other hand, the most perfect soul.

  What do I cho
ose?

  I mean, it’s not like Joel and I have any sort of commitment together. I haven’t even met the man yet. He has avoided meeting me at every opportunity. If I had met him, then I feel things could be different but right now, I want to enjoy Mr. White’s body for the fun that it is.

  I might not even get to meet Joel. He might be playing me for a fool, and leading me on until he can disappear again. I would hate to throw an opportunity with Mr. White away when the chance to meet Joel may never happen.

  In truth, I know nothing about Mr. White. He could be anyone. He could have a criminal past. He could be a high-flying business man. Or he could be a drug dealer with mafia connections.

  I don’t know.

  All I do know is when he holds me in those strong arms, it doesn’t matter who he is. In that moment, he is mine. All mine.

  The only way I’ll know if Mr. White is any sort of boyfriend material is if I get to know him better. And to do that, I have to take a risk.

  “I’m going to ask him a personal question,” I mention to Marissa.

  Marissa sighs, “You are asking for trouble if you want anything more than sex.”

  “Maybe,” I shrug. “But I am going to find out for myself.”

  ****

  I enter the hotel armed with two questions in mind.

  If I get to know a little bit about Mr. White each time we meet, then I can build a picture of whether we should be more than just lovers.

  When he hands across a glass of the finest wine I have ever tasted, which has become our routine to start the night, I ask him the first query.

  “What do you do for a living, Mr. White? I know so little about you – it would be nice to know something small about the person that is… well, the person I am enjoying my time with.”

  He stares at me for a while before replying. “Becoming more confident Amber? That is good to see.”

  “More confident?” I question his response.

  “On your first night here, you could hardly say a word. You were clearly very, very nervous. And now you’re asking personal questions about me. That’s a big jump in confidence.”

  I shrug my shoulders.