Restricted Release

by Sommer Marsden

  Matt had unzipped and taken himself in hand. I watched him grip and stroke his length and a thrill tumbled in me. To see a man like him—so big and imposing and good at heart—get himself off, jerking his cock, handling himself roughly was a secret pleasure to me. It never failed to rouse my lust and make me wet.

  Wetter.

  “You are a juicy one, my friend. Usually the first time at least, I need lube,” Nadia said. Then she stopped talking and kissed the back of my neck so my nipples spiked hard and impudent. Her fingers found my clit and she was rocking into me with her big blue dick. Making me gasp and writhe so that all I could do was drive back to meet her.

  I had to focus to keep my eyes wide. My instinct was to shut them and give in to the pleasure.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I was full—full of blue silicone and beautiful woman. My eyes full of Matt as he handled his cock. My heart full of surprise and yes, some kind of joy. I moved back to take her, pressing my cheek to the glass to absorb some of its coolness.

  Her fingers plucked at me, working me, manipulating my swollen clit and then moving up to stroke the hood so I didn’t get direct contact. It ripped a small cry out of me and she laughed.

  “Don’t want you to get off too fast, princess. I want you to come with me. If we time this right we can all get off simultaneously. We can even watch Mount Matt erupt.”

  Matt grinned wickedly and chuckled. I wanted to touch him. But that was not part of this and I forced the thought back.

  I put my head down to try and catch my breath and I heard Matt almost instantly. “Look up. Look at me, Clara. This is the three of us, but when you get right down to brass tacks, it’s really about me and you. More importantly, you.”

  I shuddered and Nadia looped her arm around my waist as she drove into me. She had a lazy rhythm that was no less intense despite its apparent ease.

  “It’s okay,” she said right up to my ear in a breathy whisper. “Just give in to it.”

  Matt couldn’t hear her and he cleared his throat conspicuously as Nadia tweaked my clit again, keeping me alert and on edge. I gasped.

  “No keeping secrets,” he said.

  “Girl talk,” Nadia insisted. But then she moaned. “And FYI, Matt, she is sweet and ripe and a virgin to my girlish fucking. And I do love this strap-on for a reason. It’s good to my lady bits. Right now I’m about a sneeze away from coming and little Miss Thing here…ah, her clit is the size of a small grape at the moment.”

  Matt groaned and I found myself mimicking him without realizing I was going to do it.

  “Jesus, Nadia. Talk about setting a man up to fall.”

  She shrugged and pushed her hand to the small of my back. She forced me forward just a bit and when I glanced over my shoulder I saw that she was watching transfixed as her cock slid in and out of me.

  “Gorgeous,” she whispered, winking.

  I blushed but found myself driving my body back to meet her and get her deep. Her faux cock seemed to be bent at exactly the right angle to hit my G-spot almost every time she thrust. The magic of silicone.

  I turned my face fully to the window and watched him. Watched his hand flying on his cock and the way his hips arched up. How his jaw had gone tight and his eyes seemed more hooded. I couldn’t really see the color from here, but I imagined them darker and more intense.

  I watched him move and watched him breathe and felt Nadia sliding in and out of me, this new person who had already gotten me off once and was now bare-ass naked in my kitchen, pressing me to a window and fucking me with her big blue hard-on. I felt it rolling toward me, my orgasm.

  “I’m going to come,” I said loud enough for them both to hear. “I’m going to…oh fuck…”

  “Do or die, Matt, if you want to come with your stand-in and your new girl, then come now.” Nadia sounded brave but her voice was wispy and broken. Her fingers, the color of good homemade caramels, traveled around to pinch my nipples and I sobbed.

  “She’s gone,” Nadia said and thrust once more before crying out.

  Through the window I watched a pale milky baptism of fluid on Matt’s big fist. His eyes never left mine and it startled me to realize I had no urge at all to look away.

  * * * * *

  I had a moment of what felt like betrayal, a small blip on my radar, when Matt said softly, “Take care of her, Nadia.” He waved to me and then turned away. He was leaving me with her and that was that.

  What had I expected? That we would all stare at each other through the window for hours on end? When I moved to get dressed Nadia stilled me. “Where’s your thermostat?” she asked.

  “What?”

  She grinned, showing me impossibly white teeth. Her middle bottom tooth was just crooked enough to be adorable. I wanted to come back as this woman next lifetime. Bold, self-assured, gorgeous.

  “Your thermostat, lover. Where is it?”

  “In the dining room,” I said, pointing.

  She disappeared and again I started to gather my clothes. I needed to get dressed before I started to shiver. Or before she really had a chance to really see me. That was the truth way down in my bones.

  I pulled the t-shirt over my head and quickly found myself making a startled sound when I met with resistance. Hands. Hers. Pulling it off the way it had come and making my hair stand up in static-charged spikes.

  “Sorry. None of that. You need to be naked for a bit.”

  “I…what?” What the hell was she talking about?

  She sat on one of my stools and smiled. “Matt told me about your issues with your own fine self.”

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. “And what is this? Shock therapy?”

  She shrugged, her heavy breasts swaying. “Maybe. I guess you could call it that. I figured we’d have some food, maybe chat and you can just adjust to being naked without feeling all crawly and crazed to cover yourself.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t you want to get past that hateful part of you that likes to tell you that you’re shit?” she asked, playing with a pen I’d left on the counter.

  “I’m sure you don’t understand what I’m feeling. I mean—”

  “Oh I understand.” She stuck her hand out. “Nadia Hodges, former bulimic. Or should I say recovering. We never really get past that dirty-talking nasty-voiced motherfucker in our heads. We just learn to tune him out, shout over him or play la-la-la-I-can’t-hear-you as well as any kindergartener.”

  I studied her with new eyes. Trying really, really hard to picture this stunning woman abusing herself. I tried to picture her with the bruised and cut middle-finger knuckle of a hard-core bulimic. I tried to picture her trash talking herself with so much venom she felt the need to purge.

  “Are you doing this…saying this…because you want to get in my head?”

  She smiled. “Yep, I threw up every Ho Ho, Frito, margarita, hamburger and chicken pot pie I ever threw up just so we could bond.”

  I heard the harshness in her tone and found myself both humbled and ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  She schooled her face quickly. “No worries. I know you’re fragile at the moment. What with an actual nice guy making you feel all lustful and strange between your thighs.” She winked and I laughed.

  I had forgotten my nudity. But when I remembered I started to cover myself, with my hands if I had to.

  She pushed my hand away. “And here we were doing so well.”

  “I can…” I wanted to try here. I really did. “I can make us some cheese and crackers and apple. If you want to make us tea or coffee. Or there’s wine.” My eyes went to the clock. “But it is a little early.”

  “You’ve never had wine before five? How about we do it to celebrate. You and Babe.”

  “Babe?” I turned from her but felt her eyes on me. It was odd that a woman was creating the same stir and thump in my pussy that was usually reserved for a man.

  This woman had just fucked me. Hell, she had taken me and it
had been good. So, so good. My heart sped up and I busied my hands to calm myself.

  “Paul Bunyan’s big blue ox was named…”

  “Babe,” I laughed. “And since that thing is big and blue…”

  “And with it I am hung like a bull. Or in this case an ox.”

  “Its name is Babe,” I said.

  “His name. His,sweetheart.” She put two wineglasses on the island and found the bottle on the sideboard. But before she poured, she put her lips to the back of my neck and her arms around me. She squeezed me gently before sliding her hands up to cup my breasts.

  “I can smell your pussy,” she said in my ear.

  “Oh God.”

  “I mean I can smell it and I like it. It smells good. Like we fucked. Which we did.”

  She traced her tongue up the back of my neck and fingered the tips of my nipples when they pebbled. I turned in her arms and let her pin me. We were both still nude and her pelvis pressed to mine, the heat of her mound seeping into mine.

  Her lips were soft but insistent. Kissing her made me want to touch her. All her soft curves and smooth skin and the swell of her breasts. I wanted to know what it was like to bury my fingers in her pussy. To feel the heated suction of bumpy, rough but smooth-as-silk-flesh pulling at my finger. Internal heated flesh that was not mine. I wanted to slide my fingers inside her and feel what there was to feel.

  But her kisses also made me think of Matt and his mouth on me. His cock buried deep in me, rocking me to orgasm. Telling me I was pretty. Telling me it was okay.

  It took everything in me to open my eyes and push my fingers to her lips. “Wine?”

  She grinned. “Wine, pretty.”

  We drank wine naked.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Nadia left I realized I now felt I had two lovers and two new friends. Not what I’d expected when the moving men had shown up with Matt’s stuff.

  The phone rang and my stomach dropped but in a good way. The drop you feel on Christmas morning. The drop you get when you find out you got a promotion.

  “Speaking of promotions, you need to get some work done, chick,” I reminded myself. The day was flying by and my body was pleasantly sore and still aroused. I was no longer naked but I was only in a t-shirt and socks.

  That alone was progress.

  I hurried to the kitchen to find my cell.

  “How do you feel?” Matt asked.

  “Confused,” I said.

  “Yeah? I thought that went pretty well for a first time.”

  I plopped onto the stool and craned my neck to peek out the window. He wasn’t at his window. This was just a phone call.

  “You know that was the first time. I’ve never even kissed a girl before now,” I said.

  “And now?” I could hear him grinning.

  “And now I have not only been kissed by one but done by one’s big blue Babe.”

  Another smoky laugh. ”I wish I could come see you.”

  “Well…these are our parameters,” I said. We could break them should we want to but I didn’t say that part aloud.

  “And I want to stick to them, Clara,” he said. “I think it’s good. I want you to trust what’s coming out of my mouth. I want you to see you for what you are. I want us to move forward—if we do, when we do—with a clean and sane slate.”

  I chewed my lips. Toyed with the pen. Tapped my computer keys though it was off. “I’m pretty fucked-up. How do you know I can get past this?”

  “I don’t care if you’re all the way past it. Ever. I don’t care about anything but you giving me a chance…” He laughed outright then.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.” I waited, realized I was holding my breath.

  “I am somewhat startled that I am saying that to you. When things ended between me and Brooke I figured I was a bachelor for life. I never figured I’d be trying to woo some incredible neighbor woman who I really wanted a shot at…something with.”

  “Something?” My chest felt tight with nerves but I embraced it.

  “Something. We will define that something later should you see fit.”

  “So you are going to get me past my food, body, soul issues?”

  “Nope.”

  I waited, saying nothing.

  “You are,” he said.

  “Why Nadia?” I pulled the tee over my knees and put my feet on the seat. I watched the snow and wished I would just demand he come over and hug me—hold me. We didn’t even have to fuck.

  “Nadia has been where you are, to a degree. Different song, same beat, I guess. And Nadia has a spectacular talent for bringing people out of their shell. She’s also kinky as hell and was totally onboard when I brought up the whole stand-in thing.”

  “Kinky as hell,” I sighed. “True.”

  “What are you doing for the rest of the day, Miss Clara?”

  Here he sounded wistful and it made me like him even more.

  “Working, I guess. But first a long hot bath.”

  He groaned. “I won’t even tell you what I think about you in that tub.”

  “Good, don’t. Not naked or soapy or mentally rehashing all that’s happened since I met you. And you, Matt Millen, what do you have to do the rest of the day?”

  “I have to run a finalized version of a book to Titanium Fist, the local comic publisher.”

  “Cool.” I felt a burst of pride for him.

  “Yes, cool.” Then, “Come to the window for a moment.”

  I went quickly, trying not to feel the excitement I was already feeling. There he was. Shorn, handsome in his jeans and a navy-blue sweater. “You did good, Clara,” he said.

  I smiled. Waved. When he pressed his hand to the window I pressed mine too.

  “Are we crazy?” I asked him. “I mean, we’re acting like one of us is quarantined or something. We could just walk out the front door and be together. No glass. No gap between houses. No dramatic hand gestures at the window…”

  I heard him breathing but he didn’t speak.

  “Are we crazy?” I asked again.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  When I left the kitchen, I hurried to the foyer window and watched him leave. His big brown work boots leaving giant footprints in the snow. He climbed into his car and the headlights sprang to life. And then he was driving off into the snowy day, leaving what felt like a hole in my gut. As Matt passed he tossed a wave toward my house as if he knew I was watching.

  * * * * *

  There is something supremely soothing about Bach’s Piano Concerto #5: Emperor. Once when I was in college I was required to see a live performance of classical music. I ended up downtown alone seeing Emperor played by a talented female pianist. My love of the piece had stuck with me all these years. It’d become the music I put on when I had serious thinking to do. It was music I turned on when I needed to be soothed.

  So, it seemed obvious I turn on Emperor as I climbed into my tub while it filled quickly with warm, fragrant water that smelled of green tea and raw sugar.

  It was easy to remember Nadia’s hands on me. Her cock in me. Her mouth on me. It was also easy to remember the honesty in her eyes as she’d told me about her struggles. And it had been easy to hear the truth in her voice when she’d expressed Matt’s feelings for me.

  No one else in the world would understand this. I barely understood this. And yet it all made sense.

  My stomach rumbled as I pushed myself lower in the steaming water. I was hungry…I was starved. I wanted bacon and eggs. I wanted toast slathered in butter. When I thought about it there came that old familiar burst of fear and self-loathing for the impulse. Only I was surprised to note that it was fleeting.

  “You need to eat bacon and eggs and toast slathered in butter, Clara,” I told myself. I stuck my toe in the spigot, shut my eyes to allow the music to flow over me.

  Another blip of fear. But then I forced my mind to Matt over me, in me, pleasuring me. I followed quickly with Nadia
touching me, licking me, taking me.

  The fear was eaten by my arousal and my vivid pleasure memories.

  “Weird.”

  I soaked until the water turned tepid and the steam stopped rising. I could see fat white flakes swirling in the wind. The very top of my window was not steamed and I watched the weather dance out there like fluffy fat feathers.

  I got up and got dressed, making sure my body didn’t freeze up. Making sure I didn’t panic. Making sure I didn’t fixate on the fact that the brave part of me—part of the original Clara, as I thought of the me before Richard—had decided to run to the corner store for eggs and bacon and butter for my toast. I could eat plain tuna on lettuce tomorrow.

  Or not.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It had been a long time since I had walked in the snow. I mean for more than the time it took me to shovel around my house and down my walk so the mailman Mr. Bowman didn’t fall. The world was hushed and magical when it snowed. Even if the world was still going full throttle, which my neighborhood was. Still, the effect of snow was a world wrapped in cotton batting.

  I walked down the three stone steps to the store’s front door. Sunny’s used to be Lucy’s. Lucy had been Sunny’s grandmother. When Sunny had finally taken over the store her mother had persuaded her that her grandmother would have wanted her to claim it as her own.

  Her grandmother had been one of her best friends in the world, so Sunny had been hesitant. Finally she’d compromised by putting up a new sign. It read: Sunny’s and then in smaller font: Formerly Lucy’s. Established 1926.

  I pulled the door open and listened to the magic brass chimes announce me. Sunny knew me well—only she was used to delivering to me, not me showing up in her homey little establishment. When she looked up from a stack of papers at the register, she did a double take. I noticed it took her a second to put two and two together and realize who I was.

  “Oh my God! Clara! Is everything…I mean, are you…” She studied me intently while her mouth moved but nothing came out. Finally she smiled brightly and said, “So how are you?”

  “Fine,” I said. I had to admit, I felt a bit dizzy and off-kilter out and about all of a sudden. I usually went out after agonizing over my outing and plotting my route and also my escape route. A spur-of-the-moment trip to the corner store to buy some of the top items on my list of evil foods was not the norm. It let me see how far I’d truly slipped into solitude and yes, fear.