by Ash Harlow
“That was quick.” I can’t believe I’m already naked.
“It’s a little trick. I don’t want you imagining what’s coming next, or having second thoughts. Stay in the moment. You, Steffi, are stunning,” he says, backing me towards the bed.
My legs hit the edge and I sprawl backwards, giggling. Noah plants his hands firmly on my ankles, placing my feet on the bed with my legs open. My hand shoots between my thighs, covering my pussy. I can’t stop laughing—nerves, I suppose—and I try to roll over, but fail.
Noah waits calmly while I compose myself, but he still has a firm grip on my ankles. My breathing finally returns to normal. “Sorry about that,” I say.
Noah’s gaze slips to my hand that shields my pussy. “Do you intend to do this yourself?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m feeling rather exposed. Especially as you’re fully clothed.”
“We’re not here for me. We’re here for you. Come on, move your hand.” He places his hand over mine. “Or, we can do it together.”
I ease my hand away from beneath his but not before noticing my pussy is distinctly wet and ready for whatever it is he has planned. As he parts my lips I watch his face. It’s a look I’ve not seen before. One of pure lust.
“You’re beautiful. So wet, so ready for this,” he says, one finger dragging lightly through my cleft.
A shot of pleasure fires through me when he brushes my clit. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. No wonder people go crazy for sex. This is heaven, and I haven’t even got off yet.
“Your pussy is beautiful, Steffi. It’s pink, and swollen, and dripping with arousal.”
His finger is at my entrance and I can feel how slippery it is by the way it glides over my skin. I rock towards him because I want that finger inside me. Noah responds with a tight grip on my hip that pins me firmly against the bed.
“Don’t move.” His voice has this sexy, rough edge and I contemplate disobeying him just to hear it again. But then his finger brushes my clit again and this time I’m not going anywhere. I intend to just lie here and melt, or explode, maybe both. Fuck! This is amazing. I’m panting already. Noah notices and tells me to slow my breathing.
“Take long, deep breaths. Suck the air in all the way to your core and imagine it causing the same sensations inside you that you’re feeling when I stroke you.”
It sounds crazy, but I do as he suggests and, hell, the intensity doubles.
“How’s it going here?” One finger slides inside me, while his thumb strokes downward over my clit.
“Fucking amazing,” I gasp. I feel like I’m floating on some sort of cloud. It’s trippy, and weird, and awesome. Is this why people take drugs?
“Look at me,” he says.
I open my eyes and tumble right into his gaze because he’s watching me as though he’s just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. His chin lifts slightly right as I feel extra pressure at my entrance. In slides a second finger. My legs are trembling and my head tips back as I get used to this new feeling of fullness. I say his name.
“Are you okay?” His voice is soft now, his fingers curling inside me, and I moan when he finds some previously undiscovered part of my anatomy.
“That’s amazing. Don’t stop doing that. Right there. That thing you’re doing… do it until the world ends.” Every word I say is delivered on a long groan.
He chuckles. “I think you’re close.”
“Yeah, me too. What do I do?”
“Nothing. Stop trying. You can’t pedal faster or run to this finish line. Focus on whatever it is you’re feeling, and forget everything else.”
I can’t describe what I’m feeling except that there’s this huge ball of tension low in my belly that’s ready to burst. Noah pushes his fingers into me, curls them and drags them out. The motion sends a burst of electricity along a zillion nerves that have lain dormant, waiting their entire life for Noah’s magical touch. I no longer care that I’m the only one naked in this room, or that I’m sprawled on my bed, legs akimbo, riding the doctor’s hand to a climax that builds inside me like some cataclysmic weather event.
“Fuck, Stef, this is the wettest, hottest, tightest pussy I’ve ever touched. Come on, sweetheart, you’re so close. Let go. Come for me.”
That does it. Those words, his perfect touch. I grab his thick wrist, holding him tight against my pussy. If he stopped now, I’d kill him. I call out his name, and a few curses as all those nerves seem to draw together for one final outburst. I feel as though the entire arsenal has detonated. Noah keeps stroking me, as much as he can with the grip I have on his wrist as I ride the pounding waves of my first fucking orgasm. This isn’t some hiccup, or blip, or a “maybe that was it”. This was fireworks and shattered window panes. Finally, the aftershocks decrease and I sink back onto the bed, trying to gather my breath.
“I think I had an orgasm,” I say between gasps.
Noah lies on the bed beside me and gathers me into his arms. He brushes away the hair that’s stuck to my face, and kisses my mouth for the first time. It’s heavenly. His tongue is firm as it strokes mine and, unbelievably, my pussy spasms as I think of what that tongue could do to other parts of me. He breaks the kiss and gives me a trademark broad grin.
“I’m struggling to believe you’ve never been able to climax. You’re so responsive and that took no time at all. You didn’t have to come up with a story like that to get me to play with your pussy. You only had to ask. I’d have happily agreed.” He’s teasing, but his voice is like gravel. I like the way it sounds.
“Nope. It’s true. That was my first time. You broke the drought.”
“Just call me the rainmaker.”
“The desert flooded. The ghost town burst into life.”
We’re both laughing. The awkwardness I was afraid of isn’t there. My leg comes up against the impressive bulge in Noah’s jeans and my libido resets to let’s go again. I want him to fuck me. Just once. I want to know how it feels to have sex with someone my body obviously finds attractive. My brain, too. Not my heart. My heart’s not allowed to go there, but all the other inches of me think Noah is one hundred percent fuckable.
Before I can suggest it, though, Noah scoots down the bed. He’s got my legs open again, kissing the tender flesh inside my thighs. I squeal when he nips me.
“Behave,” he says, before going back to kissing the sensitive area. His tongue ventures further and I hold my breath, waiting for the touch. There it is. He parts the sodden lips of my pussy and licks, from my entrance right up to my clit, and back again.
I throw my head back, close my eyes and sigh. No anxiety this time, just excitement. I know what’s coming. His lips close around my nub and when he sucks, a shiver zips along my spine. Fingers penetrate me, and his mouth continues to do wondrous things to my clit. My awareness shifts to some different place as I hear music, like the string section of an orchestra. An orchestra? My next orgasm comes with a soundtrack?
Noah jerks his head away.
“Noooo,” I say.
“Fuck,” he replies, his hand digging into his back pocket. “That’s the ringtone for an emergency.”
“The hospital has an emergency department. Until our new clinic opens, patients are supposed to go there after hours.” My words fire rapidly over sharp breaths. I don’t want this to stop now.
“It’s the hospital,” he mutters, reading the message. “They’re overrun tonight and short on staff, so they’re asking for help.”
“Libby’s rostered on in that situation.” I know Noah has better experience, but I’m feeling supremely selfish at the moment.
“She’s busy delivering a baby.”
“Damn. Well, I guess that lets her off the hook.”
Noah straddles my hips, leans in and kisses me hard. I can taste myself on him. Sweet and musky.
“Sorry, Stef. Being permanently on call is the reason a relationship with me sucks. Can I borrow your car?”
“Sure. No pro
blem.” I’m doing my best to conceal any disappointment and ignore the comment about relationships.
Noah slips off the bed, takes my hand and pulls me up until I’m sitting. “Hold that orgasm for me. If I get finished early enough I’ll text you and see if you’re awake.” He kisses me again and heads for the door.
“Hey,” I say, stopping him. “You might want to take a moment to wash your face. You kinda smell of me.”
“I guess I should, more’s the pity.”
“And, Noah… thank you.”
He grins. “The pleasure was all mine.”
“Well, technically, it wasn’t really all yours. Most of it was mine.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn,” he says.
“I think you’ll find I’m a diligent student.”
10 ~ Noah
It was after midnight when I finally left the emergency department. The streets were quiet as I drove home. No queues through town, no drunks lurching on and off the sidewalk. It was nice to be able to turn my thoughts back to Steffi.
Even though what I did earlier was stupid, I want more. By the time I reach home I have this desperate need to check in on Steffi, but her apartment is in darkness. I stare at it for a bit, walk to her door, ready to knock, before I get control of myself and head upstairs. I pour a glass of wine to switch me out of work mode, and get down to writing a story.
I rough up an outline about a pretty woman who’s never had an orgasm. It’s not the first time I’ve written that story, but this time the tone is different. Less slutty, more emotion. I don’t have to dig deep to understand where the inspiration for this story is coming from. I mightn’t be able to have a relationship with Steffi, but that doesn’t mean I can’t write about one.
I’m a fast writer and the story is half-finished before I decide to hit bed. I can’t get Steffi out of my head. Her bedroom is directly below me and in my tired state, I want to go down there and crawl beneath the covers with her. Finish licking her to that second orgasm. Fuck her so that her next orgasm throttles my cock. Wake in the morning and fuck her again.
Dream on. That’s never going to happen, and that second orgasm I never gave her? That isn’t going to happen either. I must have lost my mind tonight, doing that, but damn it was nice and I want to do it again.
To crush my libido I turn my thoughts to Cam, who is back in town tomorrow. Once I connect again with my old buddy—Steffi’s brother!—I’m certain I’ll have no trouble keeping my hands off his sister.
By the time I get up the following morning Steffi is already in the kitchen. She puts a mug of coffee in my hand the minute I walk in. Could she be any more perfect?
“Were you late last night?” she asks.
I’m fighting the burst of pleasure that ripped through me at the sight of her standing in the kitchen. “Yeah. All hell let loose in town. Car accident. Illness. Hearts that stopped working. How about you? Did you sleep okay?”
Her cheeks color a little and she’s trying to hide a smile. “I tried to stay awake for you but I was so relaxed and satisfied, I kept drifting off. I figured I’d hear if you sent a text. Next thing, though, it was morning.”
“And here we are.”
“Exactly.” She’s breaking eggs into a bowl. “Are scrambled eggs okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll make toast.”
“Noah, thank you for last night.” She’s talking to the eggs she’s whisking, clearly embarrassed. “I know it was a kind of weird thing to do. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
I go to her and wrap her in my arms, even though every fiber of my being is screaming at me not to touch her. “Of course I won’t tell anyone. I’m really happy you were able to trust me, and … fuck, Steffi, we can’t do that again. Okay? I’m not blowing you off, but it’s a really terrible idea that will end badly. Cam, your parents—”
“I know, I’m cool. I feel the same way.”
Steffi turns in my arms and places her hands on my shoulders, while mine slip to her waist.
“Good,” I say. “Good. That’s good we both feel the same.” I’m noticing things that shouldn’t matter. Her eyes are more green than gray this morning, her lips more ready to be kissed. I’m so close to doing that when the toaster pops. I clear my throat and step away.
Steffi goes back to aiming all conversation at the eggs she’s poured into the pan. “Hopefully you’ve switched something on in my head. I’ll give it a try myself and see how I get on.”
I’m usually a master of control, but my dick is barely coping with this conversation. I can’t get the sounds of her moans, the taste of her, the memory of how she came with my fingers buried in her tight pussy, out of my mind. “Sure. You need to know how your body works. Stay relaxed and don’t stress about it.”
I want to add that she can ask for help any time because I’m still teetering on the edge of a delusion that says we can sneak around like a couple of kids and nobody will notice. Why the hell does this woman make me so stupid?
I need to get away from her. Breakfast almost chokes me, I eat it that fast. Steffi gives me a questioning look when I gulp down my coffee while taking my dishes to the dishwasher.
“Is there an emergency?” she asks.
“Work calls. I need to check my notes, lab results…” I’m making shit up and she knows it.
I arrive at the clinic almost an hour before I’m due. I should have stayed in my room and finished that story because I’m so wired. I know it would be fresh and edgy. I put in a call to one of the car yards and tell them my needs for an SUV. A vehicle will give me the sort of independence I’ll need to get away from Steffi if things get too hot. The manager of the car yard calls me back ten minutes later. Derek Stanton. Of course, I know him. We were in school together.
“Let me know when you’re finished for the day and I’ll bring a demo model up for you to test drive,” Derek says. “We can have a drink in town after. A few of us guys get together most Thursdays. Pretty sure you’ll know them all.”
I accept his invite even though I don’t recall being very impressed with Derek and his friends at school. At least it’ll keep me out of Steffi’s way for a night.
Derek turns up just after six with a Range Rover.
“I do actually want something I can use off-road,” I tell him.
“It’ll do the job.”
“Through water?”
Derek falls into a sales spiel about deep water and unique air intake engineering that I scarcely listen to. Cars aren’t my thing. I just want to get from A to B over difficult terrain, and without having to change my plans due to the weather. This sounds fine, and he’s making all kinds of guarantees about spectacular roadside assistance if anything goes wrong.
“Plus, it’s a total babe magnet, and I’m talking hot babes,” he adds as a clincher.
Now I remember why Derek and I were never that close. “Do you close many sales with that line?” I ask, my sarcasm wafting gently past him, unnoticed.
“You fucking betcha,” he says, thumping my arm. “Come on, we’ll take this honey for a drive through town and I’ll show you what I mean.”
I head in the opposite direction to town and up to Goldfields where I can give the vehicle a proper test drive. Derek’s right. It handles just the way I want it to. On the way back into town Derek points out the finer details of the audio system, heating—including heated seats for the babes!
“Nothing kills a promising night like a date being cold in the car. Know what I mean?”
“I don’t give my dates the opportunity to get cold,” I say.
“You always were a sly dog,” Derek says, thumping my arm again.
“Is that a compliment, Derek?” I ask.
“Fucking A it is. Oh, pull in here,” he says, pointing to a parking spot. “The bar’s just around the corner.”
The bar is attached to a craft brewery and it’s bustling with an after-work crowd mixed with tourists, which means the diversity of languages and accents make it sound like
the break room at the United Nations. I let Derek buy the first round of beers and we join a group of guys and a couple of women at a large table.
I know a few of them, and I’m introduced as the new doctor in town to the rest of the gathering. One of the guys, Ace, makes some doctor joke about having a steering wheel in his pants that’s driving him nuts, and the sad Dad jokes flow for a few minutes. The guys I know get to reminiscing about things I allegedly did before I left town seven years ago. The legend has certainly grown larger than the man. Either that, or not being here to defend myself means that I’ve been blamed for everything from an epidemic of garden gnome thefts (I was possibly guilty of one) to an epidemic of solo mothers (not guilty of a single one of those).
Some guys enjoy the notoriety that comes with teenage antics, but I don’t. I grew up with the sins of my father creating a rocky path to travel. I swung from trying to better myself to being angry. No matter what I did, I had to make twice the effort of anyone else in order to get some sort of acknowledgment for achieving a good grade. Anyone else got a pat on the back for helping a granny across the road, but I’d be accused of trying to steal her purse.
As a teenager, the lack of trust sometimes wore me down, and I’d do something wild as a fuck-you. Then I’d have to deal with something far worse than a beating from my father, or a night in the police cells to cool down. I’d have to face the disappointment on the faces of Arch and Felicity, because they supported me and believed in me. There was nothing worse than letting them down.
The pub’s becoming boring. As the guys at our table become more lubricated with alcohol, they become less inclined to suppress their phobic views about anyone who isn’t exactly like them. When I pull one of them up, he is, of course, “just kidding”, and reels off a stream of people from minority groups he counts as his friends.
