The Other F-Word

by MK Schiller

  The man was sculpted flesh and muscle. He looked unrealistically beautiful—like a photo in a glossy magazine. The broadness of his chest, the tight compact six—or maybe eight—pack, made my mouth go dry. I lowered my gaze to the seductive V—the two shallow grooves right above a man’s hips that narrowed into a perfect V on some men. Most men didn’t have it, but Damien did. In art history, they called it the Illiac Furrow and in body building, they called it Apollo’s Belt. I called it the Sex Vex. They were the muscles a man used most during intercourse and his looked like they had been cut by a laser beam. I lowered my eyes, and my swallow turned into a gulp as I stared at the one body part there were a million colourful words for.

  “Your pseudonym fits you.”

  “Let’s see how I fit you.”

  He crawled up my body much like a predator staking his claim and, my God, I felt every inch of his advance as his heavy cock grazed my skin.

  “Touch me,” he said.

  I trailed my hand along his chest. He clutched my wrist and moved it down his body and I grasped his cock. I curled my hand around it, enjoying his appreciative groan.

  My eyes widened as I felt him lengthen in my hand.

  Shit.

  His fingers trailed down my body then he inserted one into my wet sex and I screamed out at the shock of it. He eased another two fingers into me while his thumb rubbed my clit. He was relentless in his exploration and he nibbled on my earlobe.

  “My dick’s jealous of my fingers right now.” His words were naughty and delicious.

  I squirmed against him, bending my legs so I could shamelessly meet every thrust. I was wetter than I’d thought possible.

  “I’m going to come,” I whimpered, wanting to hold back.

  “That’s the idea.”

  “I don’t want to…not like this.”

  He lifted off me, his lips twitching slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen again…and again…and again. You’re good for it.” He kept repeating the word ‘again’ between hot, warm kisses against my neck, running his stubbly face against my skin when I came. And did I ever climax…screaming out his name in frenzied euphoria, letting out years of frustration. I’d found my own personal fountain of youth.

  It took me a while to calm down from my orgasm. When I did, he was smiling, staring at me with that sexy smirk and blazing gold eyes with hints of green.

  “How long has it been, Jessie?”

  “Fifteen years,” I said honestly.

  His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding?”

  “No.”

  “Why so long?”

  “It was a choice I made at the time.”

  “I guess you’re owed a lot of orgasms and I’m just the man for the job.” He put his forehead against mine. “I’ll be gentle.”

  “Why? Do you like it that way?” I managed to choke out.

  “Oh, baby, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

  I took a deep breath. “Damien, you’ve been open with me about how you feel even if it was in the form of naughty flirts. I want to be honest with you now. I was scared, but I need to share my truth with you before we do this.”

  “I’m listening, although I hope you make it fast.”

  I looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to falter by gazing upon his face. “I fantasised about this moment many times. I’m extremely attracted to you and I’ve been thinking about you since our first dance too.” I looked at him, tousling his hair. “I guess I do fetish you.”

  He let out a slow breath. “Thank you for that. I fetish you too, baby.”

  He entered me then, his hard shaft penetrating my slick folds, filling me as I’d never been filled. He thrust into me, punctuating each movement with a deep growl. He lifted my leg and slung it over his hip as he plunged deeper. I arched my back, screaming out his name.

  “Oh, God, Damien,” I said in a muffled, choked voice that sounded foreign to me. Perhaps because I’d never heard it.

  He buried his face in my neck, caressing me with those soft lips of his. The heat of his breath, the delicious scent of him, the slickness of our bodies was heaven on earth. The unrelenting thrusts perpetrated by those strong sex lines held me in a trance. Then I gave into it completely and felt my body climax harder than I ever had. When I opened my eyes, he was still gliding into me, head reared up, hair damp and face contorted in exquisite pleasure.

  “Jessie,” he whispered.

  Was there anything as mesmerising as the sight of a man coming? Especially this man.

  He fell against me and we were both breathing heavily. His finger trailed across one cheek while he kissed the other. There was something exceptionally tender in that touch. He shifted off me, ending our connection. It was surprising how the loss of him affected me. Damien rested his head against my left breast.

  “Are you listening to my heart?”

  “Yes, it’s music to my ears.”

  The shrill sound of his cell phone sliced through the heavy air. I cursed all technology.

  “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s my emergency line.” He pressed a soft kiss into my temple, brushing back my hair before getting up.

  I slipped out of the bed and skipped to the bathroom so he could have privacy, and I could finally take that much needed shower. I blinked my eyes in the sumptuously appointed bathroom. His distracting foreplay had stolen my mind, so I hadn’t paid much attention to the hotel room. The bathroom was no exception—vintage and modern at the same time. The executive shower and claw-foot tub should have clashed on some level, but they totally worked here. The modern earth-toned, glass tiles complimented old-fashioned checkerboard marble floors and a sparkling crystal chandelier created a breathtaking focal point. I stared in the mirror at my naked self, not recognising the girl who stood before me. Chapped lips, messy hair and a satisfied smile greeted me.

  Did I just have hot, crazy, monkey sex with a gorgeous, much younger, ex-stripper billionaire? Yes, I did. “That was this girl, right here,” I said, pointing to myself. Then I did a little jig one should not do clothed, much less naked. I did it! I squealed to myself for far longer than necessary. The crazy thing was…I was bursting with energy. I’d just run harder than I ever had, and got some major, long over-due action thanks to some very strong sex vex muscles. I should have had trouble just walking around, but I felt like running again…or doing other kinds of marathons. Is sex the answer to staying young?

  I turned on the water, feeling a little disappointed at not trying out the tub. The shower was very nice with its mosaic tiles and extremely high ceiling, although it was a bit intimidating with the million buttons. I just wanted hot and cold, but this shower looked like the command centre on a spaceship. I picked one and stood on the far side, praying I wouldn’t scald myself. Thankfully, the water was warm. I stepped under the spray, running my hands through my hair.

  I started singing…couldn’t help it. I’m not the best singer, but I had a secret power most women did—I sounded like a rock star in the shower. Just no one else could hear me. Of course, there was only one song that fit the moment, Simon and Garfunkel’s Mrs Robinson. It took a second to realise I wasn’t singing alone. His voice was far too deep for the song. Its gruff yet sweet, bluesy cadence was capable of melting my panties off…if I’d been wearing any. The man sounded like Rodriguez.

  He entered the shower, standing behind me. He ran his hands down my arms before embracing me and pulling me against his chest. “Great choice, Mrs Robinson,” he said.

  I buried my face in my hands. “Oh, God, I can’t believe you heard that.”

  “Did you really think I would let you take a shower alone? I thought someone as ecologically minded as you would understand the importance of water conservation.”

  “Yes, you’re right. It’s crucial to our environment.”

  “Keep singing. I love that song.” He kissed my shoulder and neck, licking away the drops of water there.

  I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “You do? Wait
, so you got my reference that first date?”

  He tilted his head, arching an eyebrow. “You’re calling it a date now and not a business meeting?”

  “We didn’t discuss much business, so yes. Answer my question. You understood what I meant when I said I was Mrs Robinson?”

  He nibbled my ear. “I got it right away, Jessie. It was just too cute to hear you explain why we couldn’t have a relationship because of a movie from the 1960s.”

  “In all fairness, it was a book first.”

  He laughed, a deep throaty rumble I felt against my skin. “I stand corrected.” Damien whispered against my ear, “Let’s make our own story and not worry about role playing someone else’s.”

  “I agree.”

  “I have to tell you something though, and it may cause our first fight, so tell me if I should wait.”

  My body stiffened. “What?”

  “We didn’t use a condom. I’m sorry, I just didn’t think. I wanted you so badly.”

  “Are you clean?” How could I be this stupid? I had lectured to my girls about safe sex forever, and here I was breaking every rule.

  “Yes, I promise you I am. I’ve been tested recently. I just emailed the results to you.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You seem to have trust issues, and I don’t want to give you a reason to doubt me, so yes.”

  “I’m clean too.”

  “I’m not worried about you.”

  “Why the hell aren’t you?”

  “Because you just told me it’s been fifteen years, baby.”

  Oh…that’s true.

  “We do have the other issue of birth control.”

  “We don’t have to worry about it.”

  He exhaled deeply, signalling he’d been worried. “Thank God. What a relief.”

  He ran his strong hands over my stomach then up my breasts, massaging me as he went. He grabbed the bottle of body wash and squirted some into his palm. His hands were slightly calloused, which was surprising, but I liked it. He washed me up and down, until I wanted him again. I turned around and put my arms around his neck, staring up at him.

  His hands moved down to my waist. “Do you like the shower?”

  “Yes, except it’s very complicated. I feel like you need a training manual to use it.”

  “Let me give you a tutorial.” He flipped a button. “This is my favourite setting.” Warm water jetted from the walls in alternating bursts against our bodies as music piped through some hidden speakers—About a Girl. “Do you know who this is, Jessie?”

  “You will never beat me when it comes to music. This is Nirvana.” It was appropriate because I was feeling some major nirvana.

  “Impressive.”

  More overhead jets came on, drenching us. I took the body wash from him and placed a generous amount on his chest then spread it down his strong arms. I let my hands roam shamelessly about his body, relishing the deep moan he rewarded me with. I ran my fingers all over his hard muscles and traced his tattoo. There, buried deep in the black scroll pattern, I noticed a few letters. They were tiny, in flourishing script, like a secret message hidden there. It was almost like looking at one of those pictures in another picture. He grabbed my wrist so quickly, I backed away. He stared at me, but there was no anger. His face held sorrow for a brief moment before a comforting smile emerged.

  “Sorry,” he said, kissing the inside of my wrist. “Let me do your hair.”

  I nodded, turning around and wondering what had happened. I didn’t think too much though—his fingers massaging my scalp with the masculine smelling shampoo was robbing me of coherent thought.

  “That’s the door,” he said, and the annoying banging sound registered for me too. “I’ll be right back.”

  I watched him exit the shower with a billow of steam following him like a cloud of magic. He walked with the grace of a dancer, but the swaggering strut of a confident man. And that glorious ass moved right along with him. Asses like that weren’t made…they were built. He put on the black robe that had been hanging on the door, smiling at me before exiting.

  I finished up, turning off the shower and wrapping the towel around me. I was not looking forward to wearing my sweaty clothes again. Maybe we could be naked for a little while longer.

  The door opened. He walked in behind me, placing a garment bag on the hook by the door. “I promise no more interruptions. Oh, you got out of the shower?” He sounded so disappointed, I almost laughed.

  “There’s only so much hot water a woman can take.”

  “That’s too bad,” he replied, licking his lower lip.

  “Don’t worry, I’m still wet.”

  He lunged after me, pulling the towel off in one swift motion. His strong hands grasped my hips, lifting me to the marble countertop in the empty space between the double sinks. I undid the knot on his robe, pushing it away from his shoulders. He knocked on the counter three times, causing the sound to ricochet in the room.

  “You know, the biggest argument I got when redesigning the hotel was on the bathroom vanities. I insisted they be as tall as possible and the architect was pissed because he had to redo his plans, but right now, I know it was the best fucking decision I made.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this is going to be so much more comfortable for me…and you.” He hooked his arms under my thighs, managing to spread my legs and push me back at the same time.

  My knees were up, with my feet and ass planted on the cold surface. His lips followed a clear path of delineation, marking a trail down my body, before he buried his face in my sex. I stared at him, struggling not to squirm with the sudden pleasure, but his arms held me firmly in place. He licked me fast and deep, rocking my whole body, until his tongue began thrusting, rolling back and forth. I tugged his damp, dark hair and leant back against the mirror, still slick from steam. He paused and kissed the inside of each thigh, biting the skin there gently before resuming his slow, passionate probing. He sucked on my clit, bringing it into his mouth and releasing it in slow, pleasurable agony.

  “Damien,” I whimpered, feeling myself let go. I clasped onto the faucets on each side of me as my body shook from the orgasm. Before I could regain my breath, his strong arms encircled me, sliding me forward to the edge of the vanity. I gripped his shoulder in fear I’d topple off.

  “I won’t let you fall, Jessie. I never will,” he said.

  I had a feeling he meant it in more than the physical sense. He entered me with his rock-hard cock, pushing into me deeper than I thought possible.

  “You feel so damn good, Jessie,” he said, nuzzling my neck. He cradled me, keeping me at an angle as he propelled himself deeper still.

  I swear even the chandelier above me was swinging. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding the momentum of each movement, and I moaned his name like it was the only word I knew. I think in that moment it was.

  I wasn’t sure how he was able to keep me so aroused. Perhaps it was because it had been so long, or maybe he was just that amazing. It was probably a combination of both. One thing was for sure, I had never felt such satisfaction and lust before, especially at the same time. The muscles on his forearms flexed with every advance. His eyes reflected the carnal desire I felt. He tipped my head up, grabbing a fistful, and pulled it back. I arched my back and he buried his face in my neck, planting wet kisses there, which caused my climax to reach new heights as I shook against him. The room smelt of fresh soap and hot sex. My arms were limp, but that didn’t prevent me from holding him closer, not wanting to let him go. Damien’s hands glided up my back as his lips brushed against my ear.

  “Don’t hurt me, Jessie,” he whispered. It was the most shocking request he could have made. I opened my mouth to form some kind of reassurance, but he covered it with his. Then he pulled out and handed me the towel.

  “I had our clothes sent to the cleaners.”

  “What are we going to wear, Damien? I have to leave soon. I work this afternoon. As comfortable
as it is, I can’t exactly go to my car in a hotel robe.”

  “I had the concierge pick out some clothes for you. They’re in the garment bag. I’m sure everything will meet your approval. There are toiletries in the drawers if you need anything.” He wrapped a soft beige towel around his waist.

  Then it all made sense. The soap and shampoo in the shower hadn’t been packaged for a hotel. Hell, the bathrobe was monogrammed. “This is where you bring women to fuck them,” I said in an even voice.

  He nodded with a sad smile, tucking a piece of my damp hair behind my ear. “I’m entering asshole territory here, but you’re right. This is my personal suite. I didn’t plan it this way, Jessie. I would have taken you to my place, after a fancy dinner and some fine wine. I would have done all the right things, and we would have waited. But you in those running shorts and pink bra…well, I’m just a weak man in your presence.”

  I pulled him close to me. “I’m not much for tradition anyway.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be needing this suite anymore,” he said, exhaling against me.

  It surprised me how deep of a breath he’d been holding.

  “But let me make it right. Let me do all the right things now with you…for you.”

  My heart fluttered and flopped all over the place. Was Damien Wolfe real or had I made him up and right now I was lying in bed dreaming all this? I never wanted to wake up. “It’s a shame you’re giving up this room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love that shower.”

  “Wait till you see the one in my apartment. That one will require a much longer training session, though.”

  He left me so I could get dressed. I unzipped the garment bag a little gleefully, acting like a kid at Christmas. Unfortunately, the clothing was very similar to the stuff my Aunt Fern sent me every holiday. An oversized beige silk blouse with a huge ruffled collar and two pink bows over the pockets that would make me look like a queen…and I mean a drag queen. It was paired with a matronly floral skirt that came down to my ankles. The sandals that came with them were beige and boring too. Even the underwear had that grandma flair. My girly senses were tingling. I knew what this was…a very clear message.