Surrendering to Innocence

by Amalie Silver

  I let my inhibitions go, his fingers working magic over me. He switched, swirling gently with his tongue over my clit, coupled with the pressure of his fingertips just inside me aroused my deepest desires for him.

  Looking down, I watched him. He was enjoying every second of this, his erection bobbing with the force of every moan. He’d remove one hand from me momentarily to stroke himself, making sure that the second I came, he’d be ready to bury himself inside me. Then returned his fingers to me, showing me just how well he already knew my body. Pausing, he blew lightly over my clitoris, sending my senses in overdrive.

  Groaning, I clutched my thighs around the sides of his face as he moaned his longing. “Come for me, Christine,” he growled. And the vibration of his voice against me awakened my siren inside.

  “Yes,” I clenched around his fingers and lifted my hips closer to his head. “Harder,” I said.

  His hands moved forcefully, responding to my request. My fingers rolled over my nipples, tugging them taut. “Joel. Oh, god.” He continued quickly, burying his knuckles until the back of his hand was slapping against my clit. “Yes!” I shouted. “Don’t stop. I’m so close.”

  “Say it again,” he whispered, slowing his pace.

  “What? Oh, Joel! Please, faster, harder!”

  He smiled when I shouted his name and quickened his pace. In waves, it struck me over and over like rumbling thunder, reliving the same sensation crashing over me, tumbling through my body. The orgasm started in my belly and fluttered upward to my nipples. The more I came, the stronger the sensation built.

  I crumbled around him, resting my hips back down to the mattress.

  I didn’t allow myself to breathe before I pulled him on top of me.

  “Now. Please. I need you,” I repeated twice, cradling his jaw upward so he could see my plea.

  He lay on top of me, and I stretched my thighs farther apart. He rubbed his cock over my slickness and consumed my mouth with his, needing every drop of seduction before the night ended.

  Fumbling a bit, he slid his hand around his shaft, holding it in place while I aligned our hips. We giggled, feeling like two kids losing their virginities together.

  The nervousness.

  The need.

  The clumsiness.

  The eagerness.

  The heat. Oh, god. The fucking heat.

  He pressed his warmth into me, stretching me to fit around his thickness.

  “Jesus,” he panted, keeping his body perfectly still and his face nuzzled into my neck, his warm breath jagged and uneven. I could feel his heart pounding against my breasts as his hair tickled my nose. “You’re so warm, Christine.”

  I rocked my hips toward him, my hands pushing against his ass to feel him deeper inside of me.

  His glossy eyes met mine, and he rubbed his thumb across my hairline, down to my ear. Breathing steadily now, he nudged our noses together briefly before he took his first thrust forward. “Slow. I want you slow.”

  With one hand propped behind my shoulder and the other at my side, he slowly slipped outside of me, and back in again.

  The sweetest torture. Easing in and out again, stopping every few thrusts to nibble on my breasts or lick the tender flesh between them.

  He sniffed, and I lifted his face to mine. “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’m okay,” he whispered, not ashamed of letting a tear drop from his eye. “If you’re not—” I began.

  “No. Believe me, I am. This is just all a little unreal,” he smiled, taking another thrust forward. I threw my head back, allowing my breasts to rub against his chest. “I’ve saved myself for you,” he added, and my head snapped back to his.

  Taking slow, deliberate thrusts forward, he kept his eyes pinned to mine.

  “Shit, I’m gonna come, Christine.”

  I nodded and kept my eyes fixed on his. He pounded forward again and again, until I could see the strain on his face. With his eyes shut tightly, his croaked his exhale. He was coming apart.

  “Jesus!” he cried, taking several violent thrusts forward, until every last drop had been shot out. “Holy shit.”

  He rolled off me and tucked his arm under my neck. I curled toward him and rested my cheek on his torso. I watched his chest rise and waited for him to steady his breathing.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  He looked down to me, cupping my cheek in his hand.

  Sitting up, he took my face and locked our lips together. “I’m more than okay. This was everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  I smiled, hoping to keep my conscience away. And there was no little voice in my head telling me what I’d just done was wrong. I’d just spent an evening with a man that needed me, and I needed him. Perhaps even in the same way. But it wasn’t ugly, and I didn’t feel guilty about it. I’d hoped that those thoughts would never creep up about this night, because what we’d just experienced was, in fact, a beautiful thing. It may have just been sex, but it was something that was going to help both of us move forward. For the first time in years, I didn’t question my own motives. I didn’t care what Darcy would think, or who would judge me.

  And it was freeing.

  “So what now?” I asked, shifting my weight off him.

  He grabbed my hip and rolled me back onto his side. “Give me eight minutes.” He winked. “I’ll be ready to go again.”

  Easing me back to the mattress, he took my lips onto his with laughter.

  Chapter 12

  Yawning, I walked Joel to my door in the morning. I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips. “Go, get some sleep. You have a big speech to give tonight.”

  “I don’t want this to be awkward. But I wanted to just say, that…last night was perfect.” He raked his hand through his hair. “You, were perfect. And you’re so fucking beautiful, that I…” he stumbled, unable to finish his sentence.

  I laughed. “You were perfect, too, Joel.” My laughter softened to a warm smile. “Kiss me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Snaking his arm around me, he pulled me close. He nudged our noses together before taking my top lip into his. “Maybe…” he whispered between kisses. “I…could…stay,” he continued, pulling the cord on my robe, exposing my breasts.

  I giggled as his hands roamed over me, and he playfully nipped at my breasts with his mouth.

  “Go! And don’t forget your tools.” I laughed, giving him another swift kiss and scooting him out the door.

  “Bye, Christine. I’ll be looking for you in the audience tonight.”

  “Knock ‘em dead, Joel.”

  He turned and walked to his car. I looked around the neighborhood, thankful it was still early enough on a Saturday where no one was out and about yet.

  And as he pulled out of my driveway, he gave one last nod and his mouth quirked into a smile.

  #

  “You’re in a chipper mood,” Darcy snapped, handing me bouquets of carnations. “These go back at the entry, on both sides of the aisle.”

  The gymnasium was decorated in the school colors: black and red. The red velvet backdrop hung from the ceiling, just behind the stage, and the main aisle had a red carpet splayed out. I had no idea black carnations existed, but since they did, Darcy was the one to find them.

  Banners, placards, and easels had to be set up, and Darcy and I spent the afternoon ensuring everything was perfect. A crew had set up all the folding chairs, and just as the first guests began to arrive, Darcy and I were putting the finishing touches on the ensemble.

  “We’ll sit here.” Darcy pointed to two chairs near the center aisle, close to the stage.

  “Sounds good.” I smiled, but couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she was in a worse mood than usual.

  “Anything wrong? Are you upset I missed the meeting last ni—”

  “No,” she snapped. “I need you to focus, Christine. This is the biggest night of the year.”

  “What else is there left to do?”

  “Nothing. Sit
down and I’ll join you after I’ve taken one last walk-through.”

  I nodded and sat in my chair.

  The gym filled with expectant parents, relatives, and friends. The low chatter began to fill the room until everyone had to begin speaking louder to accommodate. Darcy joined me after ten minutes and didn’t say a word until the first seniors began approaching the podium.

  One by one, their names were called. Each student lined up to receive their own personalized diploma, giving them the fuel they needed to continue their education, pursuing their passions, and living their lives.

  We were instructed to refrain from clapping until the last person had left the stage. And it happened to be Joel Watson. As soon as he stepped down, everyone in the room hollered and cheered, proud of each and every kid there.

  Once the crowd settled down, Joel stepped up to the podium with his piece of paper. His hands trembled lightly, and his nerves were visibly shaking him. He searched the crowd for my face, and began to panic a little when he didn’t spot me right away.

  His eyes found mine, and I smiled. He sighed and nodded, and looked back down to his paper.

  “Some say that we don’t have a clue who we are at this age. There are some who consider us naïve, ignorant, innocent...” He smiled, finding my face in the crowd again.

  But the panic that I’d seen earlier came back suddenly, and he stopped speaking. He swallowed, and I saw his hands begin to shake again.

  “Isn’t it great?” Darcy whispered.

  “Isn’t what great?” I asked, distracted. Why is he so nervous?

  “Watching him up there. I’m just so proud.”

  I looked to Darcy, confusion riddling my face. “Do you know him?”

  “The Valedictorian? Of course I do.”

  “How do you know him?” I asked. “One of your son’s friends?”

  “No, silly. That is my son. That’s Joey.”

  No.

  I felt my stomach hit the floor. My cheeks flushed and I wanted to vomit. And that’s when I realized why Joel’s expression changed. He realized I was sitting next to his mother.

  Oh, god. His mother! I’m going to be sick.

  “I…” Stuttering, I choked out the words, “I thought his name was Watson.”

  “He took his father’s last name. I went back to my maiden name after the divorce. But all his buddies call him Watson.”

  I was so stupid. I felt disgusting. Like I’d taken an innocent child and ripped him from his mother, ripped him from losing his virginity to someone his own age, ripped him from his innocence. I took advantage of that poor boy and I didn’t think I’d ever forgive myself.

  “Christine, you look green. Are you okay?”

  “Fine. I just…don’t like…crowds. Excuse me.”

  As I fled the gym, I could hear Joel’s words echo in the background. “I’ve recently gotten to know someone a little better. And she’s taught me a few things…”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, pausing before I turned around. I stood in the center aisle, just a few feet away from the doors.

  “…It doesn’t matter how old we are, where we came from, or who we used to be. We can’t change the past, we can only set a path for our futures. We strive to grow, change, and prosper, hoping we learn from our mistakes, and revel in our achievements. Change isn’t only possible, it’s inevitable. The minute we stop changing is the minute we stop caring about who we are as individuals.”

  He shifted at the podium, and bent the microphone closer to his mouth. After combing his fingers through his hair, he continued.

  “She was the first…” He paused to clear his throat. “She was the first to show me that life can be a beautiful thing. And…” He laughed. “That anything is possible with the right combination of patience and persistence...”

  I clutched at my chest and ran through the doors.

  #

  I greeted Jake in back with a hug. “Congratulations, honey.”

  “Thanks, Ma.”

  All the graduates were trying to find their families, and I saw Watson looking around. His eyes stopped on mine, and a path seemed to clear between us.

  “I’m going to use the bathroom, Jake. I’ll be right back.” I spoke quickly and hurried to the locker rooms, hoping Watson wouldn’t follow.

  I crept into the shower room and hid behind a curtain. But I quickly heard slow footsteps on the tile. I sighed.

  “Ms. Cole?” Watson’s voice echoed around the small room. “Christine, may I speak with you a moment?”

  I remained silent, trying not to breathe in fear he’d hear me.

  “I know you’re in there, I can see your shoes.”

  “Gah!” I swept back the shower curtain. “Please, Joel. Just leave me alone. This—whatever it is—is over.”

  “I know.” A deep furrow pinched his brow, and it melted me.

  “I didn’t know. I had no idea that you were Darcy’s son,” I whispered.

  He nodded. “And I had no idea you were the famous ‘Chris.’ I thought Chris was a guy. At one point I’d hoped the two of you would hook up.”

  I laughed but a lump gathered in my throat. “It was wrong from the beginning,” I said. “I shouldn’t have ever pursued you.”

  “It was wrong. But for all the right reasons,” he countered with a smile. Shaking his head, he let out a soft laugh. “I’m okay. You’re okay. What happened between us will always stay just between us. You don’t need to worry. I needed you as much as you needed me. And if I remember correctly, it was I who pursued you.”

  I wiped my tear, feeling ridiculous for crying. “You sure don’t act eighteen,” I said, laughing.

  He put his arm around me, his funny little tassel bobbing next to my face. “That’s okay, Christine. You don’t act like you’re thirty-five—”

  “Thirty-six.” I pouted.

  Chuckling, he squeezed me a little closer. “You don’t act like you’re thirty-six, either.”

  “You know, I had considered calling you again. I mean…” I looked down, fidgeting with my fingers. “I wanted to see you again, but now. Now I just don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

  He looked down to his shoes, his hands in his pockets. “I know. I thought the same thing when I realized you were friends with my mom.”

  A few uncomfortable minutes passed as I thought of any way it would be possible to see him again. But I couldn’t come up with anything convincing. For either of us. “This sucks.”

  He laughed. “It does.” He elbowed my arm. “Come on. Let’s go get some cake.”

  I nodded and wrapped my arm around his, resting my head on his shoulder. “I think it’s safe to say I’m giving your mother my resignation from the PTA.” I laughed.

  “Nah. I’m sure she’d be impressed with your determination to shape the young members of our community. Go ahead, tell her. I dare ya.” He smirked.

  I laughed again. “All right. I’ll handle your mom. But you get to tell Jake.”

  He pulled me closer, smiling, and guided me toward the door. “No, thanks.”

  On our way out of the locker rooms, I giggled. “Keep my number. You never know, maybe in a few years…”

  The End

  About Amalie Silver

  Amalie Silver resides in Minnesota with her husband, two toddlers, and German Short-haired Pointer, Saba. She consumes approximately three pots of coffee a day, and credits this for her survival over the past decade.

  When not completely consumed in her writing, she can be found taking road trips to northern Minnesota, engaging in fierce Scrabble games, or reading a good book. She’s a sucker for all romance genres, literary fiction, and psychological fiction.

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amaliesilver

  Twitter: @AmalieSilver

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