by Claire Adams
He growled quietly. His eyes stayed closed, but I sensed he was awake. It wasn’t only because of the blood I could feel rushing into his shaft. I caught a grin come across his face for a moment.
I considered putting him in my mouth, but I didn’t want to run the risk of building him up too quickly. I wanted him to make love to me, and I wanted it to last for as long as possible. Even though he had proved repeatedly that he could easily recharge, I didn’t want to interrupt our amazing sex for any reason.
Once my hands had cupped his balls, he began to find movement again. He shifted around, moaning as he grew in my hands.
“Good morning,” he mumbled.
“Morning,” I replied. I leaned up and kissed his lips, keeping a wandering hand on his genitals.
His hands wandered up to my breasts and began fondling them. I leaned my chest against his face, letting him kiss my breasts and suck tenderly on my hard nipples. My grip on his rod grew tighter, and I began to aggressively stroke him. I feared that he would erupt if I kept tugging him, but I couldn’t help but please him each time he paid undivided attention to my chest.
Once his mouth left my breasts, my hand released his penis. I quickly climbed on top of him as he reached for a condom by the nightstand. He tore the wrapper and went to put it on, but I took it from him and slid it down his shaft myself. I enjoyed doing that for him; I felt like it somehow added something good and unique to the sex. It was a way (trivial, though it might have been) for me to prove just how much I wanted him.
I guided his sex into mine, I straddled him, and I rode him until he was fully inside of me. It was slow, passionate, and wild. I would lean down and bite his ear, growling as my teeth gently sank in. He would reciprocate by grabbing my hair and pulling me closer to his mouth, where he would concentrate on my ears, licking them, breathing into them, and biting them. He would bite hard sometimes, but I liked it.
We kissed each other’s lips more than we ever had before. Our tongues were dancing together more than ever before, too. At certain points, we would only lick each other’s tongues. That concept had never seemed appealing to me, but there was something primal about it that really turned me on.
He grabbed my hips and began to thrust up into me. His force was enough to slow down my own thrusting, rendering me temporarily stunned. I knew that he was close, but I didn’t care. I only wanted him to keep doing what he had just done. I moaned loudly, grabbed onto a chunk of his hair, and let him take over.
He drilled upward, relentlessly and with purpose. He was holding onto his load for as long he could. I wasn’t the only one immensely enjoying myself. He was getting off on me getting off. My body temporarily weakened, and I lowered myself down onto his body, surrendering. He slowed down. He began to rub my back, pushing deep into my skin, massaging me. I closed my eyes.
Then, he flipped us over, with me now lying on the bed and him above, ready to draw out each other’s ejaculate. He gripped my sides, tenderly and firmly at the same time. I held onto his wrists as he skillfully fucked me, never going too fast or too slow.
I looked at him, and I realized that we were both resisting our orgasms. We both didn’t want it to end.
I decided to have a little fun. I pushed him off me and flipped us both back over the way we were. I chuckled maniacally.
He retaliated by flipping us back over. “Ha,” he cooed.
I pushed him again and flipped us over again. We switched from top to bottom over and over, laughing the entire time. We were goofing around, and at the same time, we were having incredible sex. That concept had never seemed possible to me before, but there were many things about Sawyer that seemed impossible.
Our game ended with me on top. We had remained aroused throughout.
“Ride me hard, baby,” he growled.
I did as he requested. I rode him so hard that our bodies began to clap with each contact we made. The sound alone was what did me in.
I screamed out his name, feeling myself tighten around him. This caused him to scream as well, emptying out his massive load into the condom that kept me from feeling his actual warm flesh buried deep inside me.
I fell off him, lying on my back on the bed, sweating and trying to catch my breath. He ripped his full condom off his drained member and threw it in the garbage can. He got back under the covers, lying next to me. He randomly kissed me all over my body, never staying in one place for long.
“Good morning,” he said. “What a perfect way to start the day.”
“Agreed,” I said through rapid breaths.
“Hope I didn’t wear you out.” He drew circles around my nipples with his fingers and tongue. “I’m hoping for a round two.”
“So am I,” I said. “You sure you aren’t worn out?”
“You emptied me, but I’ll be full again soon,” he said while caressing my belly. “Since that was… ‘romantic,’ for lack of a different word, I was thinking of maybe being a little rough with you.”
“Rough in what way?”
“I haven’t nailed you to the wall in days,” he said, eyeing various points of the bedroom’s walls. “I like doing that with you. I want have you right there, you know?”
I liked what he was describing, and my body was already readying. He pressed two of his fingers firmly onto my clit, easily making my wetness return.
My mind went back to my thoughts from earlier that morning. I thought of what he said: “What a perfect way to start the day.” I agreed wholeheartedly with him. I couldn’t recall a day where I felt so good so early.
I didn’t like the word ‘perfect,’ because I didn’t think anything actually could be perfect. Perfect implies flawlessness, and I believed that every person and thing in life has flaws, great and small.
Yet, I felt like things were perfect between us. I hadn’t felt that happy in years.
He kissed my cheek and my lips, pressing his thick sex into my leg, showing me that he was ready for the wall.
He lifted me up off the bed, and he walked over to the wall beside the bedroom door. He put me down, pressing my body against the wall.
I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to say, so I just spoke my (frantic) mind.
“Do you want the truth, even if it’s going to kill your boner?” I asked him.
“Always,” he replied.
My mouth hung open, not even attempting to block the words that were going to spill out of me.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
His eyes widened. His mouth began to hang open as well.
He stammered. “Why do you think that?” he asked me.
“Because everything feels perfect and nothing ever feels perfect, and I think you’re an awesome, amazing man. I think it hit me when you told me how you felt and what you wanted. I… I know we just started dating—”
“Yeah, that’s what I was going to say,” he interjected.
“And, I know… you don’t do long-term relationships usually, and what’s happening right now is probably the reason why.”
He laughed, giving me a funny look. “Eh… one of the reasons.”
“I don’t expect you to say it back,” I said. “Or even feel that way right now. But, I wanted to be honest with you, like you have been with me.”
He smirked, thinking to himself. I would have given anything to know what was on his mind at that moment.
“Please say something though before I die of embarrassment,” I said.
He laughed. “Well… you know that I really like you, Hannah, right?”
It felt like a punch to the gut initially. I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, but I knew as my words left my big mouth that I would likely get a reaction like this.
“Yes,” I answered him.
“That’s actually not fair to say. I feel something for you that I’ve never felt for any other woman before. You… you’re mine. My woman.”
It felt good to hear him say that. Other guys had called me ‘their woman’ bef
ore, but it felt appropriate coming from Sawyer.
I leaned my body into his, feeling his maintained erection. “And, you’re my man. Now prove it by fucking me against this wall.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, baby.”
I wish that I could say my entire body was entirely invested in our sex, but that would have been dishonest. I was glad the sex was happening because I had desperately wanted to steer us out of the dangerous waters I had taken us into. Yet, it felt good to have it out there. I felt content again because it occurred to me how right it felt to tell him that I was falling in love with him. I started to believe it.
Chapter 34
Sawyer
Feeling vulnerable was something that happened often whenever it concerned Hannah and me. It used to irritate me, but I accepted vulnerability as part of the territory and became accustomed to it.
But I didn’t know what I had been feeling since Hannah said that she was falling in love with me. I didn’t have any pressure to reciprocate or lie about having similar feelings that weren’t there, yet it was the lack of pressure that made me feel off. Girls often tried to pressure me into things I didn’t want to do, but this was no girl who I was living with. Hannah was a woman, and she helped define what that meant to me.
Only a day had passed since that morning. After our moment, we spent the day inside, cooked vegetarian chili together, and had more sex. We never brought up love again.
Sunday arrived seamlessly. We had the TV on, playing a sitcom that I had never heard of before. We were on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket together.
Then, my phone began to ring. I didn’t get many calls, so I was legitimately curious about who would have been calling me. I went through awkwardly trying to pull my phone out of my pants pocket while simultaneously being pressed against Hannah.
“Do you need help?” she joked.
“Nah, I just can’t fucking get it out—”
My phone stopped ringing. I was annoyed, but still wanted to know who called.
And, sure enough, my mystery texter had finally broken and called. My intrigue inspired me to get up off the couch.
“Who called?” she asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” I replied. “This person has been texting me. They won’t say who they are.”
“What kind of things are they saying to you?” she wondered. “You don’t know if it’s a guy or a girl?”
“No, it… it’s complicated. I’m going to go return this call outside, okay?”
“Outside? It’s like thirty degrees outside!”
“That’s why we invented jackets and sweaters,” I said like a smartass.
“You’re going to go outside to return a call to someone who won’t tell you who they are from a number that you don’t recognize?”
After she put it like that, I realized how stupid it sounded. But, since I didn’t know what to expect, I remained determined to not involve my new girlfriend in some unnecessary drama. I know I was with Hannah during the times she was saying, and I knew this was someone messing with me, but I still wanted to get to the bottom of it.
“I kind of want to go for a little walk anyway,” I said truthfully. “I haven’t gotten to the gym in almost a week. I should get a little exercise.”
“You have been getting exercise,” she said grinning.
“I certainly have, but the more, the better,” I replied, kissing her forehead as I put on my leather jacket. “I’ll only be out for a little while.”
“Don’t let the landlord see you,” she warned.
I gave her a slight bow, opened the door, and scurried out. Once I had the door closed and locked behind me, I began re-dialing the mystery number, ready to finally hear a voice.
I held my phone to my ear and let it ring. Instinctively, I marched down the hall back to 222, wondering if I was going to see Jared for some reason. I briefly wondered at one point if he was the one antagonizing me. I thought the texts might have been sent to try and throw off my game, which would then help explain why the caller never picked up (because I’d know it wasn’t a woman). The timing of it all was too peculiar. But, since my evidence for ‘Jared-mischief’ was low, I didn’t give it much thought. Still, I had no idea who would spend so much time being vague and cryptic with me.
I got the voicemail, but I wasn’t going to give up this time. I was going to call until the person answered.
As it rang again, I looked at Room 222. The blinds were open, revealing an empty apartment. None of Jared’s things were there. Nothing was inside. It looked like a tomb. I glanced at the door and noticed a shiny new doorknob in place of the one I broke. I still felt confident that Jared had left for good.
No one answered, so I tried again. I walked down the stairs and exited the complex, walking on the frosty sidewalk, hoping the caller would give in. I paced around, repeatedly calling the number over and over…
I knew I was frustrating the caller, because occasionally when it rang, it would go almost instantly to voicemail. It didn’t do this every time, which told me that the person was actively hanging up on me. This fueled me to try for the remainder of my walk, despite it leading to a fruitless end. I was still no closer to knowing what the deal was with this person than I had been before.
It felt colder than thirty degrees, so I trekked back into the complex, defeated. I met eyes with a few people that I didn’t recognize before walking up the stairs.
I stepped inside the apartment. Then, with remarkably impeccable timing, I received a text message. I gritted my teeth, looked down, and saw that it was from the mystery number.
The text message included a picture. The picture was a nude photo of a woman, from the head down, posing. She was skinny with perfect pale skin (save for a dark mole on the top of her left breast) and an impressive body. I couldn’t tell who it was, but I knew that I would have remembered this body if I’d had it before.
The text below the picture read, “I’m so ready for your dick, Sawyer.”
I stared at the picture and text for nearly a minute, trying to process it all. I didn’t know what was real.
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked from the couch.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I don’t know what’s going on. This person won’t leave me alone or say who they are.”
“What’s this person saying to you?” she asked.
I didn’t want to use total honesty because, without context, I knew it would look bad no matter how I described the situation to her. Even though I was the one being harassed, I worried that she would think I was talking with a former lover or arranging for a new one-night stand. I hadn’t been her mature, dedicated boyfriend long enough to explain a truth this bizarre without the details.
Plus, I didn’t want to risk her breaking up with me, as selfish as that may sound.
“They’re not saying anything really,” I said with a touch of honesty. Not only did I not know who my harasser was, but I still didn’t know what they wanted. I knew I had never seen the woman in the photo before. Even though time can change someone’s body, I would never have forgotten someone that looked as good as the headless woman did in that picture.
“I don’t understand,” said Hannah.
“Yeah, I don’t understand it either, and it’s driving me fucking crazy,” I said agitated. “They won’t pick up, but they keep texting. They won’t say who they are—”
“You really don’t know if the person texting you is a man or a woman?” she asked, perplexed.
“I don’t know anything!” I shouted.
I put my phone in my pocket and took off my jacket. Hannah kept looking at me, trying to figure me out.
“I’m sorry I yelled,” I said.
“No worries,” she replied. “You could give me the number, and I could try calling it. Maybe they’ll pick up for me.”
That thought hadn’t occurred to me before, and I thought it was a rather intelligent idea, but I didn’t want that nude photo to be anywhere near her reach.
“It’s worth a try,” she said.
“I’ll give it to you when I get back,” I said walking towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna pee real quick.”
“Don’t miss!” she called out jokingly. I had never missed when urinating in the toilet, but I still chuckled to myself.
When I got in the bathroom, I closed the toilet lid and sat down, staring at the contents on my phone.
I looked through the various vague texts between the mystery person and myself. I felt like shit, because no matter how much I looked it all over and regardless of how much thought I was pouring into solving the mystery, I was unable to figure out who it was. My gut was telling me nothing. I glanced at texts that I had received over the past month from girls who had hit me up, hoping to reignite whatever weak ember had been lit however long ago. I hadn’t responded to any willing woman but Hannah since moving into her place.
I hoped that my old lifestyle wasn’t coming back to bite me in the ass. It was amazing to me how I had only just made a significant change in my life and opened myself up to a long-term relationship, and now, I was being hounded by some strange pussy, when I now wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.
I feared that in my vulnerable state, I might have come across as oddly emotional out in the living room. I wished I could turn back time and not even mention the craziness I was dealing with so that I could return to the couch and we could act like I never got a phone call in the first place.
But, I had prevented that from happening because I knew she would want to know more about my unknown phone assailant after I finished pretending to use the toilet.
Then, I had my epiphany. I wrote out a text:
“Either tell me who you are or stop texting me. If you do neither of these things, I’m going to block your number.”
I sent the text message, smashing the ‘send’ button angrily. I got a response back quickly:
