WakingMaggie

by Cindy Jacks

  She ran her tongue over the tip of his cock again and then down the shaft to wet it. Positioning her lips around it, she eased her mouth to the base and then came back up. With each stroke, she ran her tongue along the underside. He groaned and panted his approval. Then she decided to mix it up.

  Only the tip in her mouth, she ran her tongue around the soft fleshy head several times.

  He shuddered and grunted. “Easy…hold on. I’m gonna…”

  But she didn’t stop. Instead, she took all of him in again, sucking hard at the base of his shaft. An explosion of cum flooded her mouth and she swallowed each hot spurt. Calvin bucked and shook until finally the muscle spasms quieted.

  One deep, cleansing breath and then he asked, “Why’d you finish me off?”

  She gave his cock a kiss and sat up. “We’ve got all night, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, we do.” A lascivious grin lit up his features as he still struggled to control his breathing. Rolling onto one side, he made room for her to lie on the sofa with him. “Come here.”

  “Why don’t we go up to my bedroom?”

  He snagged his boxer shorts from the floor and put them on. “Sounds like a plan… Wait—gimme a sec.”

  Making a fast trip to the foyer, he rummaged around and came back holding several condoms. “You said we have all night, right?”

  Charmed at the prospect, Maggie clasped her hands together and laughed.

  Chapter Four

  Taking his hand, she led him upstairs. Calvin shed his shirt, splayed himself out on her king-size bed and rolled around. “This is what I’m talking about.”

  Suddenly aware of her overdressed state, she sat on the edge of the bed and bent to remove her boots.

  “No.” He caught her hand. “Leave the boots on.”

  “You like them?” she asked, holding up a foot for him to admire.

  “I do. But this,” he pointed to her sweater, “I could do without.”

  She took off the offending garment, baring her bra. “Better?”

  “Hmm.” He studied her and slipped a hand under her skirt, hooking a finger in her panties. “One more thing.”

  He worked her undies down her legs and over her boots. Hopping onto the floor, he knelt in front of her. “Payback time.”

  Pushing her skirt up, he kissed his way up her thigh. Maggie writhed, trying to hold back a fit of giggles. “This doesn’t work for me.”

  A look of disbelief on his face, he asked, “What do you mean ‘doesn’t work’?”

  “I’m ticklish, I mean seriously ticklish between my thighs. No one’s ever been able to go down on me.”

  “Really? Sounds like a challenge to me.” He resumed the path of kisses he’d begun.

  Shaking with laughter, she pushed his head away. “I’m serious. It doesn’t work.”

  “You just need to be desensitized.” He nuzzled between her thigh and her groin and she let out a yelp.

  “Please. You have to stop. I can’t take it.”

  But he didn’t. Changing tactics, he spread her legs wider so only his tongue made contact with her clit. No more ticklish sensation, just heat and…oh, pleasure. Her head lolling backward, she moaned her approval. Pussy burning for him, she squirmed. Mistake—Calvin’s hair brushed her thighs. She squealed, pushing him away.

  “I’m sorry.” She put the back of her hand to her flaming cheek.

  “It’s okay, let’s try again.”

  “Or we could just fuck.” She gave him a wry grin.

  With his lips pursed, he stared at her for a moment and then conceded. “I’m not giving up. We will come back to this issue.”

  “Another day, I promise.” She pulled him onto the bed and climbed on top of him. The moonlight filtering through the curtains highlighted the crests of muscle beneath his taut skin. With one finger, she traced the shadows on his face.

  Wresting her skirt over her hips, she positioned herself over his thick cock. He rolled on a condom and then filled her with one upward thrust. She stilled. Once her body had relaxed, she began to ride him at a slow, even pace, sliding from tip to base. He gripped her thighs, using the leverage to tilt his hips upward to meet her downward strokes. She hung on to his shoulders and deepened the bend of her knees, driving him farther into her. Lost in the moment, she closed her eyes, the undulations of her body keeping time with his.

  He rolled up to a sitting position, his hand brushing her hair from her eyes, his gaze moving over her face as gentle as a summer breeze. It’d been so long… And even when she had a sex life with Nate, he’d never made her feel like this. A warm glow overtook her, joy radiating from the inside out. With small nips, he brushed his lips over hers, his tongue licking at hers.

  “Come for me, Maggie,” he whispered. She gently caught his bottom lip with her teeth then released it. Her pussy gripped his cock.

  A hand to her chest, he tilted her back just a little, changing the angle at which he penetrated her. A tremor passed through her, a shock wave of pleasure. She cried out, a catch in her voice.

  “Oh that’s it, isn’t it?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he pushed his cock deeper into her wet sheath.

  Blood roaring in her ears, she rubbed her clit against his pelvis with every thrust. Her lower abdomen grew tight and muscles inside her contracted around his shaft. Beginning as searing heat, an orgasm built inside her, turning to pulses of ecstasy. More powerful tremors shook her and she threw back her head, panting for air. Her chest heaved against his, but once the climax receded, her breathing gradually slowed.

  Calvin ran his hands up her back and she opened her eyes to take in his handsome face. He flexed his abdomen and drew himself up into a seated position, then wrapped her legs around him. Cradling her with one arm, he rolled her beneath him, trading positions. His wide shoulders cast a shadow over her and she noted—not for the first time—what a big man he was.

  He covered her mouth with his and lavished her with kisses, driving himself into her with smooth, solid strokes. She hung on to his buttocks, spasms of pleasure passing from his body into hers.

  With a sharp inhalation, he broke away from the extended kiss, his breath ragged. He shook and arched his back, chest and abs tight as he came. Her gaze drank in the mass of rippling musculature. Gorgeous. So goddamn gorgeous and a tender lover as well. If this were a dream, she prayed she’d never wake up.

  Once he exhaled and allowed his body to go slack, she pulled him against her. He kissed the corners of her mouth, grazed his lips across the tip of her nose and planted whispers of kisses on her cheeks.

  He broke into a lazy smile. “Wow.”

  “Mmm, yeah. I agree.” She wiggled her hips.

  Gently he withdrew from her, disposed of the condom and slumped onto the bed next to her. Settling his head against her shoulder, he stroked her hair.

  Neither of them spoke, the darkness filled only with ragged breathing and the occasional sigh. She threaded her fingers through his silky hair, now a bit damp with sweat, and shifted so her head was on his chest. With the back of one hand, he traced a path down her arm to her thigh and back up again. He repeated the caress over and over.

  Finally Calvin said, “You never answered my question.”

  “What question?”

  “Why didn’t you change your name if you hate it so much?”

  She breathed in the scent of his skin and pressed her face against his firm pectoral muscle. “I don’t know. When Nate and I split a few years ago…it was like my whole world fell apart. It was about the same time my kids left for college. So much was changing. I didn’t want to change who I’d been the last twenty-six years too.”

  “A name isn’t who you are.”

  “Says the man who will never have to assume or un-assume someone’s name.”

  “Point taken.”

  He fell silent again and she wondered if she’d offended him. Sliding a hand up the side of his torso, she noted goose bumps there and asked, “Are you chilly? I can turn on the fir
eplace.”

  “I slept with the restaurant owner’s daughter,” he blurted out.

  “What?”

  “Earlier. You asked me why I got fired. I-I slept with the restaurant owner’s daughter.”

  “Ohhh.” She curled the hand that’d she’d been stroking him with in toward her chest. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “I was just thinking about it and I felt bad I didn’t tell you earlier. You’ve been open and honest with me… Oh, I don’t know.”

  “You really need to work on your postcoital banter.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Picturing him in a passionate embrace with another woman, her body stiffened. “You didn’t sleep with her tonight, did you?”

  “No. No. It was weeks ago. I don’t know how he found out.”

  “Was it supposed to be a secret? Please tell me she’s over eighteen.”

  “Of course. She’s twenty-four.”

  Her mouth ran dry and she swallowed hard.

  “Did you break the girl’s heart?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible.

  “No, she stopped calling me. Said she doesn’t date musicians.”

  “Did you knock her up or give her a social disease?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t see the problem.”

  “Me neither.” He looked down at her, chagrin written on his face. “Apparently Mr. Jiminez doesn’t agree with us.”

  Maggie rolled over onto her side to face the wall. Clearly oblivious to her feelings, he snuggled up behind her. Tears collected in the corner of her eyes but she blinked them away.

  After a couple of minutes, he asked, “Are you asleep?”

  She didn’t answer. Maybe he’d think she’d drifted off.

  Propped up on one elbow, he said, “I know you aren’t asleep. I can see your eyes are open.”

  “Maybe I sleep with my eyes open.”

  “Maggie.”

  “I’m fine, let it go.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.”

  “You’re mad at me.”

  Of all the young men she’d come across tonight, she had to bring home the most infuriating and obtuse of the bunch. Yes, she was angry. She yanked the pillow from under her head and whacked him with it.

  “Yes—” Whack. “I’m mad.” Whack, whack.

  He snatched the pillow from her. “Why are you hitting me?”

  “Because I hate you.”

  “What?”

  She sat up, clutching the sheet around her. “We were having a nice time. A really nice time, and then you had to go and ruin it. Now all I can think about is Mr. Jiminez’s daughter and her perfect twenty-four-year-old body. And—and you being all sad because Little Miss Perfect broke things off with you so you got stuck with the old lady instead. That’s why I hate you.”

  He held his hands out in front of him. “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “You’re a jerk. Just like Frank, just like my ex-husband. You’re a jerk.” She let out a sob. “And I really liked you.”

  “Maggie.” He stroked her face tentatively but she turned away. “Maggie.”

  Stewing in embarrassment—as much from her outburst as anything else—she tried to muster the courage to ask him to leave. Truth was she didn’t want him to leave, but he probably would anyway now that she’d gone all crazy-cat-lady on him. Her throat tightened and her cheeks burned. Was she even really angry with him or was he just catching the brunt of past humiliation?

  “Maybe you should go,” she murmured.

  With more tenderness than she thought she deserved, he wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t want to leave.”

  She didn’t reply, but she didn’t pull away from him either.

  He went on, “It makes me sad that you think of yourself as someone I got stuck with. As someone anyone could get stuck with.” He kissed her neck. “You know I was watching you all night.”

  “Don’t—”

  “Shh.” He put a gentle finger to her lips. “You had your say, now it’s my turn.

  “I was watching you all night. You walked in with your coat buttoned up to your neck and your little purse slung over one arm. You had a red flower in your hair and you looked…you looked nervous, but so pretty at the same time. And right before you sat at the bar, you unbuttoned your coat. You stole my heart in your white dress and I’m sorry I ruined it.”

  She huffed a sarcastic sigh. “You’ve got it totally wrong. My dress is champagne-colored, I’d never wear white after Labor Day.”

  Jostling her, he chuckled. “Whatever. You’re beautiful and I don’t care if you’re forty…something or sixty-something.”

  She yelped. “I’m not sixty-something.”

  “Just shut it.” He tilted her head up and kissed her.

  Laying her back onto the mattress, he slipped a hand beneath her and worked at her bra.

  “Don’t,” she said, wiggling away, but he trapped her with his other arm.

  “I want to see you. All of you, Mags.”

  “I-I don’t look like a twenty-four-year-old. I’ve had two children and gravity takes its toll. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

  “I won’t be.”

  Her gaze met his and she searched his expression. Clearly he believed what he said. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she relaxed… Well, as much as she could relax. She let him take off her bra and slide her skirt down her hips.

  Despite her protestations and giggles, he nuzzled her pubic area. From there, he worked his way up her hips, stopping to kiss each stretch mark, which took a fair amount of time. He ran his mouth over her soft abdomen and cupped a breast in his hand, dotting each nipple with a swipe of his tongue.

  “You look beautiful naked.”

  She held up a foot. “What about the boots? Shouldn’t you take them off?”

  Raising an eyebrow, he grinned. “I still like the boots.”

  He eased her onto her stomach, leaving a trail of feathery kisses on the nape of her neck and her shoulders. His mouth on her back, the heat of his breath radiated across her bare skin. She felt his lips graze her buttocks as he licked a trail down to the back of her knee. Shivers darted through her. Starting at the back of her other knee, he licked his way up to the small of her back. She shivered again.

  Rolling over, she pulled him to her and kissed him hard. He slipped a hand between her legs and pushed two fingers into her. With alternated flutters and thrusts—and patience—he inched her closer to climaxing. Muscles deep inside her starting to contract, she gripped his biceps. An orgasm shook her and she cried out. He held her until her body stilled, placing light kisses along her jaw and lips, then withdrawing his fingers.

  “Guess I don’t need to go down on you to make you come.” He ran a finger under her chin.

  “Guess not,” she said, curling up against him.

  “Come here.” Calvin pulled her onto all fours and positioned her in front of the dresser mirror. Rolling a condom down his shaft, he said, “I want you to watch yourself.”

  He moved behind her and pressed against her backside. Still wet from the recent orgasm, she pushed against his cock. He slid into her up to the base of his shaft and gripped her hips in his strong hands. Those dexterous hands she’d watch play guitar with so much skill.

  Her gaze strayed to their reflection. His face was relaxed with enjoyment, cast down to look at her. His abs flexed with each thrust and she pushed back to meet his forward strokes. He plunged into her as deep as he could.

  In the mirrored image, she watched him watching her and eased upright into a position where she almost squatted on his lap. He studied the reflection of her bare torso, moving his hands up to her breasts. His fingers traced the pink flush that spread from her chest to her pubic hair, a snarl on his lips. He pushed his cock even farther into her pussy in this position.

  She leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder, kissing his neck. Sliding a hand between her legs, he massaged
her clit. A tremor passed through her. She caressed his muscular thighs, her fingertips memorizing the sinewy texture. So much power with every thrust. She couldn’t get enough of him. She ran her fingers as far as she could up his abdomen—all solid muscle and silky skin. Not like Nate who’d been too thin when they’d met and too heavy when they’d parted. No, with Calvin it was like making love with a god. Her personal Adonis. He made her feel just as beautiful.

  A low groan building in her throat, she reached behind her and clasped his head in her arms. He brushed his lips past her ear, hands gliding over her hips. Palms flat against her skin, he moved them up her body, fingers straying to her nipples. He pinched them firmly and she moaned louder. She imagined herself as his guitar, an instrument he knew inside and out. He plucked and strummed and brought her body into tune. Oh yes, he could play her any time he wanted.

  Angling upward a little more, he pulled her ass flush with his pelvis. The tip of his cock hit the sweet spot. A whimper on her lips, she ground against him, her pussy growing slicker. Her sheath gripped his shaft and she shuddered.

  “Mags—” he gasped, shaking as he started to come, but he kept up the pace, still stroking her, spurring on her own orgasm. A cry choked her and she finally reached another climax.

  They collapsed forward onto the bed, writhing together until the last wave of ecstasy passed. She started to laugh.

  “What so funny?” he asked, kissing her neck.

  “I’m a little delirious.”

  “I feel ya.” He exhaled and chuckled too.

  Sliding out of her, he tossed the condom in the bedside wastebasket then snuggled against her hip, intertwining his legs with hers.

  “Can I stay the night?” he murmured.

  She turned to face him and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “You can stay as long as you like.”