by Mary Potter
“I don’t want it weird between us. But I see your mouth. I love those lips. I see those warm eyes that are the color of the wading pool off Land’s End. I want a kiss to remember you, and I can’t expect anything more.”
Before I can finish, before I can think too hard, Jeremy’s strong arms encircle me. I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach his lips. I don’t mind. His lips are softer than they look. I feel the bristles of his chin against my face. I feel his hot tongue dipping playfully into my mouth. He’s kissing me. I feel his body heat. I welcome the biceps against my arms. I reach to hold him. My hands around his back, I feel the linear lines of his back muscles against me. He’s built like an upside-down triangle with a narrow waist and broad shoulders. I know he’s masculine and heavy with muscle. I feel him lean over me. His hands against my hip and back, and I arch with him, my feet flat on the concrete again. Jeremy holds me in his arms. My mouth open against his mouth, I’m drinking in the feeling, and loving the embrace. I want him. I know he wants me because I can feel the swelling of his thick cock against my stomach. He’s taller, and I might be short, but I know in bed we’re the same height when it comes to fucking.
Chapter 7
JEREMY
M onica is amazing. Some men might think it’s brazen that she’s not afraid to speak out and tell me what she’s thinking. I’m not scared to kiss her. I know by the way she moves in my arms, the way she melts against me, the way Monica lets me support her, she wants so much more than a kiss. I need to feel more than my lips against her lips. I need to feel more than the heat of her body against mine. Her body is hot to the touch. I know I can feel her nipples against my chest, even through two layers of fabric. I need her, I want her, and I have to have her.
We climb the stairs to her apartment in the attic of the Victorian house across from the park. It’s like walking into a small space with branching corridors made up of short walls and vaulted, sharp ceilings. Monica warns me several times about hitting my head. It’s inevitable in a place like that. Her apartment is clean and warm, and Monica opens windows strategically to collect the right cross breeze that makes it relaxed and comfortable without air conditioning.
We break the kissing long enough for her to speak. Her words are breathy and moist.
“I have to take a shower,” Monica says. She leaves me standing in the living room. It’s smaller than my sitting room by half. Her hands release me one at a time as she backs away from me. “I’ll be out in a minute. Please, have a seat, make yourself at home.”
She breaks our connection. I hear the bathroom door close, but she doesn’t lock it.
I have a few minutes alone in her home. I see she’s tidy at home. It’s a friendly space with a full ceiling in the kitchen. The bedroom is nothing more than an extended walk-in closet with a queen-size mattress and box spring on the floor. I understand immediately, because if Monica used a frame, it’d make the bed too high. To conserve space, no arrangement, with a window at the head of the bed that looks out at the nighttime Golden Gate Park, it’s a million-dollar view on a shoestring budget.
I feel bad about it, but I’ve held my bladder for as long as it can stand. I tap on the bathroom door gently.
“It’s okay, you can come in,” Monica says.
I don’t know if she expects me or if she knows the glass door for the stand-up shower, distorts the view so much it’s a fleshy outline and nothing more. I see her clothes on the floor. She’s peeled off the leggings. Her black boy-short panties are right on top. I try not to think about them.
“I have to pee, I’m sorry,” I say.
“It’s fine,” Monica says. “I had to, as well.”
MONICA
I find myself thinking the dirtiest of thoughts the moment I hear the gentle rapping on the bathroom door. I left the door unlocked out of habit more than reflex. I don’t close the bathroom door when I’m alone at home anyway. I think subconsciously I want Jeremy to come into the bathroom. I want it to play out like some cheesy, raunchy porn movie, the kind I like when I’m entertaining myself. I didn’t expect him to use it.
I can see him standing by the toilet through the glass. The closer to the frosted glass I get, the better the view on the other side. Perhaps Jeremy knows I can see him standing beside the toilet. I get a profile view of him. It doesn’t feel weird. That’s how I take it. Married couples share bathrooms. I see him struggling a little because Jeremy has to make do with his stiff cock, and I think for men, erections aren’t easy to work around when it comes to pissing.
I know Jeremy is the right man the moment he finishes. Not only does he put down the toilet seat and wash his hands, but he’s also gentleman enough to thank me. I can’t let him go.
“Wait,” I say.
I’m lathered and clean. I’ve scrubbed every part of me, front, back, top, and bottom. I know my pussy is slick because even after I rinse with hot water, it wants more.
“I know I live in an attic that’s perfect for a college kid,” I say. My hands are against the glass. I’m exposed, naked, wet, and ready. I know what I’m doing. I know Jeremy sees me through the lens.
“It has a kitchenette like a motel, but a bathroom that’s big enough.”
I know Jeremy sees the outline of my body. He’s standing close to the door. It’s open to the apartment. He’s not leaving the steamy room. I want him to drink in the erotic view of my naked body through the frosted glass of the shower door. I know he can see the caramel color of my nipples and the small champagne-blond patch of fur at my groin. I keep my pussy trim because I like to know I’m a woman, but I like to think I have the playfulness of a teenager. I’m adult enough to know what men like Jeremy like in a woman.
“I know this shower is big enough for two,” I say.
“You do?” he asks. It’s playful. There’s a tenor in his voice that makes me quiver.
I pop open the door and reveal myself to him waiting.
Chapter 8
JEREMY
T he showerhead had a steady, reliable stream that makes me hot just looking at it cascading over Monica’s perfect and naked form. I close the door to stop the chilly draft circulating through the rest of the tiny space. I slip off my shoes. Take off my socks.
I pull at the hem of my Henley and pull it over my head. I know Monica’s staring at the line of hair that leads from my navel to my belt buckle. I love Monica watching me while I undo the belt buckle and open the fly to my pants. She’s staring intently at me as I get as naked for her as she is for me. Her arms are up, resting on the tiled wall above the shower door. I want to join her. I don’t want to wait too long. But I want her to see what she’s done to me. I lower my pants, and I see her eyes widen a little. She bites her bottom lip, and playfully, Monica curls the index finger of her right hand to make me join her in the shower.
The water is frightfully hot. Monica has had more time to adjust to the temperature. Rather than worry about water scalding my skin, I meet to kiss her, pulling the shower door behind me.
“You’re right,” I say. “It’s big enough for two.”
Monica laughs. “I don’t know,” she says. Her hand grabs the shaft of my stiff cock. “This makes it a little tight for two people.”
I can’t help but kiss her dirty mouth. I feel her tongue in my mouth under the hot water washing over us. Monica lathers my torso with body wash. I wash and rinse my hair. I feel her hands soothingly caressing my lower stomach and my cock. Her hands cup and knead my balls. It’s an exhilarating sensation, impossible to explain to a woman. Having her hands on my cock makes me feel like a man. She’s an incredible woman, and I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. She’s powerful and knows precisely what she wants. Monica is a woman I could spend the rest of my life getting to know better.
MONICA
S omething is empowering about handling a man’s junk. I’ve had some experience in it, and I know men respond favorably to having my hands and mouth on their cock and balls. I love the texture of a
stiff cock. Especially with a man like Jeremy, he’s got a man’s body and a cock like a freshmen college student. He’s so potent in my hands, and I wonder if he’s got enough patience to have more than just my hands around his shaft.
Jeremy kisses me hard, as I like it. His mouth is like a hot, wet cave of delight, and I probe inside with my tongue. I imagine when his tongue circles my lips and slips between my teeth to mingle with my tongue, he imagines what it’s like to put his tongue inside me. I can’t stop thinking about Jeremy’s mouth pressed against my pussy. I think about the firmness of his tongue probing me.
It’s impossible to fuck in my shower. I’ve tried before with failure. Once I almost broke the door. Having Jeremy in the shower with me isn’t about fucking. It’s about having him near me. I love feeling that body against my body. I love the healthy stiffness of his cock against my stomach. I can feel the gooey goodness of his pre-cum when I run my thumb over the head of his prick.
I turn off the water. We drip dry and kiss before we take the rest of the night into the tiny closeted space I call a bedroom. I know I have clean sheets on the bed because I changed them yesterday. I don’t think Jeremy cares about the condition of my sheets. It’s one of the million ideas that race through my head as we back out of the shower and towel off together.
I put the towel around my shoulders. I lead Jeremy into the bedroom. I know we’ve had over ten thousand hits on social media for Jeremy saving Lady Ginger. I know what I have planned next for Jeremy is something I don’t want to share with the rest of the public… well, perhaps a little.
Chapter 9
JEREMY
I f ever there was a moment when I fell in love with Monica, I couldn’t narrow it down to one point or place in time. All I know, my heart hammered in my ears for the woman long before I ever had my cock inside her.
Monica wasn’t shy. She wasn’t timid or afraid in bed. Monica lived in that petite place for so long that leading me into the hallway that made up the bedroom space was as spontaneous as breathing for her. She climbed over the bed. I saw the pale naked globes of her ample ass presented before me as I stood at the foot of her bed. She climbed over the blankets and rolled on her back. The tuft of fur between her legs glistened in the streetlight glow cast over the bed.
“I want you inside me,” Monica says. Her fingers trail over her erect nipples, and down over the swell of her belly to touch the edge of her pussy. I gasp at the sight. I drop to my knees at the foot of the bed.
Before she can protest, Monica giggles in surprise when I grab her ankles and pull her back toward me. Her feet dance against the floor, and Monica’s legs are wide open for me as I lean down and kiss her soft belly. I breathe in the scent of her lavender body wash, and I am reminded for a second of what it smells like in my basement apartment. Her flesh smells more genuine. I kiss her belly, and Monica moans. I kiss the inside of her thighs, and she hums. I kiss her puss lips and Monica drones. I breathe in the scent of her, and it makes me growl. I know I need to taste her.
I take my time because I want the night to last forever. I feel her trembling under my hands. I’m caressing the outside of her thighs. My hands climb up her hips. They trail over her stomach. And my fingers from right and left sides, claim both her big beautiful breasts. I touch Monica’s nipples. I squeeze her nipples and she shudders, and my tongue slips between the silky folds of her pussy lips, making her whimper.
MONICA
T here is something to be said about a man who wants to go down on a woman. Some men don’t like it. Some men do it because they feel obligated. A man like Jeremy wants to do it. He wants to do it not only long enough to make me shudder and squirm but because he wants to taste me. His fingers pinch, tweak and pull at my sensitive nipples. I don’t know what’s going to make me cum harder; his fingers expertly playing with my tits, or his tongue and lips dancing against my pussy. I know it’s the overwhelming combination of both that makes me cry out with the most intense orgasm I’ve experienced in a long time.
Jeremy is a man who savors what he’s done. He knows how to take it to the next level. Like a surfer reading the waves, Jeremy knows me well enough to understand and read my body writhing against him. His right hand leaves my nipple. I pull and tweak my nipple as his other hand kneads my right breast. I feel Jeremy’s tongue against my clit and two fingers of his right hand slide into the wet folds of my pussy.
It’s a sensation that throws me over the edge of another orgasm. The waves are crashing over me like the building of the surf against the rocky shores. I am in a state of perpetual bliss. I am every fiber of my being. I am part of Jeremy as his fingers fuck me fast, hard, expertly, as his tongue triggers the pulsing button of my clit. Jeremy hasn’t slipped his big beautiful cock into me, and he’s made me cum more times in the last ten minutes than I ever thought possible.
Like massive ocean waves pounding on the bluff, my orgasms leave me breathless and wanting more.
“Please,” I say. My breaths leave me gasping, I pull at Jeremy’s shoulder. I hook my fingers into his armpit to pull him up. “I need you inside me.”
The anticipation is impossible to bare. The way his thick cock pulsates against the inside of my thigh makes me buckle with pleasure. Jeremy moves up and over me on the bed. He runs his hand over his face, mouth, and chin seconds before I pull him in close to kiss his mouth. I probe my tongue into his mouth. I can still taste me on him. I smell my sex, and it makes me crazy, because I’m still clinging to eddies of the orgasms that take hold of me like an electrical current. I know Jeremy is the power source, and I am the socket. I feel his head tease my pussy. My lips kiss him. I pull up my knees. I feel his hands run over my hips and cheeks. Jeremy hesitates a heartbeat before his cock slowly enters me. It’s like coming alive, breaking the surface of the undertow from the surf. I feel his thickness, his length.
Jeremy takes his time. He’s strong and gentle, and I’m responsive. We can hear the slick smacking of his cock sliding in and out of me. We’re becoming one person. The current takes hold. I grab Jeremy hard, fingernails digging in. I pull tight, and I know from Jeremy's growling that the moment I feel the intense and incredible waves of my orgasm, his thick cock is pulsing inside me. I welcome Jeremy tensing, filling me up, and the deep rush of pleasure washes over both of us. We're caught in the undertow and blissfully aware there is no going back again.
Epilogue
JEREMY
T here’s something incredibly exciting about watching a world premiere. It means more to me because I have the loveliest lady in the world with me. Monica’s hand squeezes my arm as we walk together down the runway outside the Embarcadero Center in San Francisco. It’s the one place Sarah wants to see her film. She’s part of the group. I’m here with Monica. We’re excited not because of the stars that turn out for the opening of the film based on Sarah’s book, but because we’re happy to join our friends, Benjamin and Sarah.
Benjamin nods to me as we walk together. He approves of Monica. Monica likes him and Sarah both.
“We’re opening the coffee shop and bistro next weekend,” I say. “You and Sarah are coming, right?”
Benjamin nods, “Does this mean you’re retiring from the department?”
I shake my head. “No way,” I say. “Just like you, we’re Boys in Blue, and we’re in it for life. Monica loves me being a cop.”
“So does Sarah,” Benjamin says. “She says it gives her writing inspiration.”
“You’re her muse,” Monica adds. She gives Benjamin the once over in his tuxedo. “I can understand that,” she says as she pulls at my arm to kiss her quickly. “Jeremy’s my inspiration.”
We’re together in the theater. I’m sitting elbow to elbow with my best friend. Corey’s behind us, watching over my shoulder. He leans close between Monica and me.
“You’re sure lucky,” he says. I know it’s to get a look at Monica’s cleavage in her evening dress. It’s sheer and backless, and Monica looks sexy in the satin maxi dress wi
th the scoop neckline. I think she’s incredible.
“You’ll find someone,” Monica says. Corey leans back. I know Monica felt him looking at her breasts. She doesn’t mind, and I don’t care. I know Corey’s envious of both me and Benjamin. I think Monica’s right. He’ll find someone eventually.
Monica’s fingers thread around my hand. She pulls my hand into her warm lap. We share a kiss, and the house lights lower. Everyone else is applauding the screen. I’m listening to my heart, hammering in my ears.
MONICA
T here seems to be no way to comprehend the last few months of my time with Jeremy. He’s everything and more than I ever thought possible. Jeremy is a giving lover and a great man. He’s in love with me, and we’re deciding which place is better for making love.
His basement apartment has cinder-block foundation walls. It baffles my screams when he makes me cum. My studio is close to the park. We can watch the coyotes darting from trash can to trash can in the middle of the night before the fog rolls in and blankets the ground.
I know Jeremy loves me because it’s in his kisses, in his eyes. He whispers it to me when we make love. I hear him whisper it to me in the night when he thinks I’m asleep. I love Jeremy, and he’s supporting me through the process of finally getting the business started. We’re into new territory together.
Jeremy still loves being a bike cop in the park. I’m still a part-time dog walker and full-time barista. The difference between going to work every day before I met Jeremy and now, is that when I walk in the front door of the café, I know it’s my business. I own the place. I’m ready for whatever comes next. Jeremy is right there with me. We’re in it together, forever.
