by Dark Angel
I have other things in mind.
I stop pounding her and pull out. She groans in frustration, and I grin. I know she’s been building an orgasm again. I don’t want her to find a release. Not yet. The longer I draw it out, the more intense her orgasms get, and I challenge myself to see how far I can push it.
“I want you on top of me,” I say, crawling onto the bed next to her. She smiles.
“Reverse cowgirl,” I add, and her grin grows.
She nods eagerly and sits up. She wants to try new positions with me. If that’s not perfection in a woman, I don’t know what is. Most women prefer missionary, which is the epitome of dull on the sex scale. You have to do all the work. You can’t grab their asses because they’re lying on it. And then it’s over.
Dana isn’t like that, I’m learning.
She gets onto me, her back to me. She straddles me and lifts her ass. I guide my cock to her entrance, and she sits down on me. I’m deep inside her again, and everything feels different. My cock pushes up against the natural slant of her body, and the pressure is different. She gasps and moves her hips back and forth, testing it.
Her back faces me, and I run my hands over it. Her skin is flawless. She starts rocking her hips back and forth, harder and faster, building friction on my cock. She moans, and I gasp, putting my hands on her ass. Her cheeks are spread, her legs are on either side of my hips, and I squeeze her ass cheeks as she rides me harder and faster.
I’m in charge. I like calling the shots. I like when she agrees with me and does what I want to do. And God, I like this view of her back and her ass. Her body is perfect, but not in a model kind of way. She has imperfections but they only add to her beauty.
She rides me harder and faster still, her hips bucking back and forth as she fucks me. She cries out, and I get lost in the sensation of my own orgasm building. This is it. I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer. She moves her arms, and I realize she’s playing with her breasts, probably tugging at her own nipples while she’s riding me.
She moves one hand down, and I know she’s playing with herself, fingering her clit while she rides me. Her body tightens on mine. Ripples that precede her orgasm course through her body. She twitches and jerks over now and then, and she tips back her head so her medium-length hair hangs down her back a little farther. I reach up and run my hand through her hair, but I’m not going to hold onto it again. Not this time.
She moves her other hand down. and a moment later. her fingers find my balls. I jerk in surprise. The feeling is unexpected, but she caresses my balls, squeezing them lightly while she plays with herself and rides me. It’s multitasking at it’s very finest. This is why I think women have been given that talent.
Her body tightens more, her walls squeeze down on me, and I know she’s close. Combined with her ragged breathing and moaning, her orgasm can’t be far off at all. I’m getting closer, too. I try to hold back, but there’s only so much I can do before my body defies my commands and does what it wants to.
When she orgasms, I can feel it. Her body clamps down on mine, and she leans forward, her body curling around the orgasm. She cries out before she goes silent, and I know what her face looks like without seeing it.
I hold onto her ass and start bucking my hips, pumping into her. She’s so damn tight now. She braces herself with one hand on the bed, her balance shot. I fuck her, hard, and I feel my orgasm building.
When I finally release, it’s violent, and I pump into her, emptying out. My cock quivers and twitches, and I know that I’m depositing a lot more inside of her than usual. It’s like she draws more out of me, every time.
Her orgasm lasts, drawn out, until mine stops. She tips her head back, her body relaxes again, and she breathes hard. I run my hands over her back. Her skin is slick with sweat.
Slowly, she moves off me. I can feel how tight she is now when I slip out of her, and she gasps. She crawls onto the bed next to me and collapses with a sigh.
“God, Keagan,” she says.
I grin and put my arm around her. She moves onto my chest, and it’s like our bodies were made to fit together. She lies on my chest, her leg thrown over mine, her face in my neck. Her breathing slows, as does her pulse, which I can feel on my chest where her body is pressed against mine.
I start to relax as well, my body spent. I close my eyes, and the exhaustion of sex and lack of sleep slowly starts to catch up with me. My breathing steadies.
Dana’s body twitches, and I know she’s falling asleep.
I kiss her on the head and make a move to return to my own bed, leaving her to sleep. She wraps her arm around my chest.
“Please, stay?” she whispers.
I nod and lie back down. She sits up and pulls the sheet over us before taking her place on my chest again. She sighs, and a moment later, she’s asleep.
I don’t lie awake for much longer. She wants me to stay. There’s more between us than just sex, and it’s starting to show. If Dana wants to cuddle with me afterward, there’s something between us. Something more than just physical.
I don’t want to label it or get my hopes up, but until now, I walked away because I wanted to respect her wishes. If she’s asking me to stay, now, it’s a good sign.
I don’t know where it will lead, but it’s good.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just before five in the morning. Birds are starting to chirp outside, celebrating the pending dawn. Tomorrow, or today really, is Sunday. We can sleep until whatever time we like, and then get up, get breakfast, and spend the day together.
This is what I want. I want to be with her.
Satisfied, I slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I open my eyes again, the sun is high in the sky, and the day as a quality to it that suggests it’s been up for a while. When I glance at the clock, it’s noon. Dana lies next to me, her hair spread out on the pillow, and she’s breathing evenly. I take a moment to study her face. She looks younger when she’s sleeping, pure. I touch her cheek and press my lips to hers, and she sighs.
I lie back and stretch myself out. My body is a little stiff from the sex, and I can still feel her on my cock. The feeling is amazing.
“Morning,” Dana says next to me, waking up.
“Afternoon,” I say, smiling at her.
She lifts her head, squinting at me. “It’s that late?”
I nod. “Noon,” I say.
She yawns and stretches out, too. The covers slip from her body, and I look at her. Perfect breasts, flat stomach, wide hips. The perfect kind of woman.
She sees me looking and smiles at me. She runs her hands down her own body, over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, and then into the middle, over her pussy and back up again. Her eyes are on mine, and her smile is mischievous.
“You’re a tease,” I say.
She giggles and sits up.
“I need to take a shower,” she says. She looks at me. “Join me?”
I nod and get up, following her into the bathroom. She turns on the hot water and steps underneath the spray. The water runs through her hair, wetting it. I watch her.
The water runs over her skin in droplets, and she looks like something out of a summer ad. She’s hot. I step into the shower, too, and wrap my arms around her.
We stand under the water together, pressed up against each other, and I caress her, running my hands up and down her back over her arms. She tips her head up at me, and I kiss her.
I’m hard again, pressing against her, but this not about fucking her. I just want to be with her.
She runs her hands over my body as well. We’re quiet. The only sound is the sound of the shower.
She shampoos her hair, soaps up her body, and she’s wet and slippery. I let my hands slide over her breasts and her stomach, while she’s busy. My cock throbs, but still, I’m not going to have sex with her now. I don’t want to ruin the strange, emotional atmosphere that’s building between us.
When we’re both
clean, we step out of the shower. She gets dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that outlines her body. I find the boxer shorts she discarded earlier, and while she combs out her hair, I go to my room and get dressed.
When we walk to the kitchen, the doorbell rings. I frown and walk to the door, looking through the peephole. Susan and my dad are on the other side of the door. I stifle a groan.
“Who is it?” Dana asks, coming into the room. Her hair is combed back, and she looks fresh.
“Our parents,” I say.
She frowns. We saw them last night. I don’t think it’s necessary to see them again, but I can’t ignore them and pretend we’re not here.
I plaster a smile across my face and open the door.
“What a surprise,” I say when they step into the house without invitation.
“We thought we could all have lunch together,” Susan says. “To make up for last night.”
She nudges my dad who shrugs. “I was in a mood yesterday. Susan wants me to make up for it.”
I sigh and look at Dana. Her face is expressionless when she hears the news.
“We brought eggs and bacon,” Susan says. “We guess you’ll have bread.”
“You guessed right,” I say.
I walk to the kitchen. We’re not going to get out of this one.
Susan is already busy in the kitchen. I join her and so does Dana. My dad sits at the breakfast counter. We all banter along, laughing and joking. Dana makes the toast, and I butter it.
We stand side by side. She nudges me. I smile and nudge her back. When she reaches for more bread, I get butter on her hand and I laugh.
“Sorry,” I say, taking her hand and close my lips on her skin. I lick off the butter.
She looks at me and shakes her head, laughing. She pulls back her hand and carries on with the toast. When I turn, I notice my dad’s eyes are on me. I can’t read his face, but my stomach tightens. He saw that.
We carry on laughing and joking. My dad doesn’t do anything weird, but he watches us. Dana and I don’t do anything more, but we don’t have to. When it’s finally time for them to leave, my dad walks over to me.
“Let’s walk ahead,” he says. “I want to have a chat with you.”
I brace myself and follow my dad out the door. Susan and Dana follow behind us, but they’re far enough away to not hear our conversation.
“What’s going on with you and Dana?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t act dumb. I saw that. And I’m a man. I know what seduction and post-coital bliss looks like.”
I cringe at the words. “Gross.” I shake my head. “Anyway, I can do what I want, Dad.”
There’s no point in hiding it. He knows.
My dad shakes his head. “You’re right. I just thought I raised you better.”
He walks to the car, leaving me behind. Susan and Dana catch up to me, and Susan hugs me.
“I’ll see you soon,” she says. She follows my dad, and they get into the car.
We wave at them and watch them leave. When they’re gone, Dana leans her head against my shoulder.
“That wasn’t so bad,” she says.
I nod. It guess it wasn’t. But my dad knows. I don’t think I can tell her that he knows. Or that he’s very disappointed.
Dana
On Monday morning, I’m getting dressed for an interview. I can’t believe I’ve gotten another one. I started giving up hope, but since I’ve moved in with Keagan everything has changed.
I don’t try to fool myself and pretend that it’s not largely about him. He’s been more than nice to me about my situation, perfectly gallant and treating me like a lady, and he’s been delicious in bed.
I’m luckier than lucky.
But as I get ready for my interview, I’m nervous. My stomach is in a tight knot. The few interviews I’ve been to since I lost my job have not worked out. It’s difficult to stay confident after a string of rejections like that.
My phone rings, and it’s Keagan. I pick up, already smiling.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Nervous. What if I don’t get it?” I’m worried that I will become a burden. I’m already invading his personal space, even though he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Then we try again. You can stay with me as long as you need. You know that.” It’s like he’s reading my mind. “But I believe in you, and I’m sure it will go well. If they don’t hire you, they’re blind to your talent.”
He’s always been great at pep talks. I smile and thank him. When we hang up, I feel a little better about it. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly.
I get in my car and turn on the radio so music swirls around me. It’s not too loud, just enough to take the edge off. I type in the address and let my GPS guide me through town.
My mind isn’t on the interview or the questions they might ask and the answers I might give. It should be, but it’s Keagan that I’m thinking about. He’s on my mind a lot these days. My mom is being strange about my relationship with him. She’s always been open-minded, but she’s actively encouraging it, and it’s awkward. It’s a little too much for me. I know Keagan is irritated with it as well. The whole thing is a difficult topic, especially when they barge in on our personal time like that.
Not that they knew it was personal. My mom may have known, but not Chris.
I’m not sure what’s going on between him and Keagan. I noticed that Keagan was upset after they’d spoken, but he didn’t tell me anything. I know better than to push him to open up before he’s ready to tell me. Living in the same house as him for years has given me an advantage in this relationship that others don’t have.
I shake off the thought and scold myself for it. It’s not a relationship. Casual sex. We agreed on that. I’m not going to make it any more complicated than it already is.
Whatever is going on between Chris and Keagan, I’m going to trust that he’ll tell me if he wants me to get involved. It’s the least I can do, seeing that I’m already imposing on every other level of his life.
Finally, I pull up in front of the building where I’m to be interviewed. I swallow hard and force myself to take deep, slow breaths. I’ve done this a million times. I know what interviews are like. I know how to handle questions, and I know who I am as a designer.
Like Keagan said, I have talent.
I walk into the offices of Golden Image Designers and walk to the front desk.
“I’m here for an appointment with Julia,” I said.
The receptionist smiles politely and looks me up on the system.
“Dana White?” she asks.
I nod. She points me down the hallway, explaining which way I need to go. I follow her instructions and find the waiting area where I’ve been told to wait. I sit down on a deep red leather couch and clutch my handbag on my lap. My portfolio rests against the side of the couch.
No matter how many interviews I do, I’ll never get used to being scrutinized. And it’s always strange to walk into an unfamiliar office with the express goal of having them invite me to work there.
“Dana?” a woman’s voice calls.
I turn in my seat to look at her. She’s got long brunette hair that curls over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a black and red power suit that accentuates her figure beautifully. She walks toward me, and I like her already.
“I’m Julia Summers,” she says and holds out her hand. I take it.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Summers,” I say.
“Oh, Julia is fine. Follow me.”
I follow Julia through the maze of corridors until we reach her office. She closes the door behind me and tells me to sit down.
“Tell me about yourself,” she says. “Tell me why you design.”
They never ask me such personal questions. I let my mind slip back to the reason I started.
“I design because I was born to create,” I say. “And there’s something so satisfying about a beautifu
lly created space.”
I elaborate a little on why I specialized. She asks me how I would approach clients, how I would handle pressure and deadlines, and finally, she asks to see my portfolio.
I hand it to her, and she opens it up. Her eyes flicker over my work, and I feel raw and vulnerable. This is the most intimate part of me. I poured out my soul on those pages, and for someone else to study my work for flaws is never easy.
Finally, Julia looks up at me.
“You have a unique flare,” she says. “We can use that at Golden Image.”
I swallow. A compliment is always good.
“Let me be straightforward with you, Dana,” she says, closing my portfolio and handing it back to me. “I want you to work for us.”
I blink at her. “Just like that? I mean, no second interview or anything?”
Julia shakes her head. “I know talent when I see it, Dana. I would be a fool to let another company scoop you up.”
I nod slowly, trying to process exactly what’s happening.
“I’ve got the job?” I ask.
Julia smiles. “You’ve got the job.”
She stands up and holds out her hand across the desk. I shake it in a daze.
“Thank you,” I say. I’m a little stunned.
“Lisa, my secretary, will be in touch with you soon to arrange contracts and your starting date.”
I nod, thank her again, and leave the office. I feel like I’m walking on air. I can’t believe it. Did I just get a job? It’s only been a month since I was fired and I lost my home, but it feels like a lifetime. And it’s finally over.
When I’m in my car again, I close my eyes and let out a deep breath, as if I’ve been holding it for a long time. I dial Keagan’s number and my car’s Bluetooth picks up my phone. When he answers, his voice is all around me.
“I got it,” I say. “I got the job.”
I can hear him smiling when he answers. “I knew you were brilliant. We have to celebrate this.”
“Tonight?” I ask.
