by Liz Crowe
He woke to find her standing at the deck railing, utterly, gloriously naked. The wind blew the dreadlocks hanging by her face. As he watched, rendered immobile by the sight of her, she leaned forward, arched her back and grabbed one leg, lifting it back and up over her head. Then she did the same with the other leg. She was like a dancer, lithe and graceful in her movements.
His mouth was watering by the time she put her hands up over her head, clasped her fingers together and bent backward, pressing her thighs and stomach forward. She bent so far back, the long strands of her hair touched the deck.
The desire to keep watching her stretch in her yoga positions warred with the stronger desire to grab her and kiss her and make her come so loud the whole house would hear it. He gripped the arms of his chair, aware that his cock was making a serious tent out of his shorts. A tingling feeling raced through him, pebbling his skin and making his pulse race. All he heard as he kept watching her was the whoosh-whoosh of his heartbeat.
He rose and went to her, covering her hands with his, his arms alongside hers, raised over her head. She didn’t move, or flinch, or speak. But as she bent forward, he went with her, his hands sliding down the inside of her arms to her breasts. They rose back up in unison and he did the opposite movement, running his palms up her arms to rest on either side of her clasped hands.
She bent backward, taking him with her. Together, they didn’t go quite as far. They rose again. He turned her around slowly. “Leave your arms up,” he whispered. He lowered his lips to hers, parted them with this tongue and met hers in a slow, sexy tangle. She kept her arms up as he kissed her, roaming all over her back with his eager hands.
When he dropped to his knees, she gasped. He looked up at her exquisite face. “I love you,” he whispered, before pressing his lips to her stomach, then kissing his way along her ribs, then going lower. He moved his hands up the outside of her legs, to her hips, then around to her ass. She dropped her hands to his hair, tangling her fingers in it as he kept a grip on her butt with one hand, and spread her legs with the other, filling his nose with her distinctive scent. He teased her piercing, keeping his face pressed to her pubic bone. “Lean back again,” he whispered into her skin.
She did, but this time with her legs spread so he could slide fingers inside her, feel her pussy hold him tight as her clit throbbed and pulsed under his thumb, the warm metal of her jewelry pressing against his fingertip. The moon lit one side of her face and body, giving her skin a strange, silvery glow. He rubbed fast, while reaching high inside her, knowing this for the gold medal move. Once he’d found her G-spot—a little higher and more forward than on most women—he’d memorized its location and could go there in a few seconds. But she required both exterior and interior contact so he gave it, gripping her ass with his other hand, and pressing soft kisses to the pebbled skin of her lower belly.
“Ach! Ross,” she cried out in a whisper-scream. His cock jerked at the sound of his name coming from her lips and he sensed pre-cum coating his head, making him grunt into her stomach. “Mein schatz,” she sighed as her pussy grabbed his fingers tight and a gush of liquid filled his hand.
He held on to her, riding out the orgasm, then pulled his hand free and licked his palm as she gasped and gripped the deck railing behind her. The wind picked up, blowing her hair around his face as he got slowly to his feet. She pulled his shirt up and over his head, then unzipped his shorts and dropped them to his feet. Without a word, she pushed him back so he dropped to the lounge chair, then fell to her knees in front of him, taking his cock in her mouth so fast he groaned and gripped the chair arms in an effort not blow in two seconds.
Her finger went straight for the soft space beneath his balls. He shifted forward in the chair, giving her more access. Head thrown back, he gave into it, into her, as his hips thrust up and she took him as far down his throat as she could manage. When he sensed the tightness there, her roaming finger found a target and slipped into his ass. She stroked his prostate gland, which made his vision blur and forced a loud cry from his lips. He came so hard the chair jerked backward on the deck. She sucked and swallowed everything, raising up to look at him after what felt like an hour-long orgasm, her smile sweet, her lips slick with his cum.
“Nasty,” he said, his voice weak. “I like it.”
She winked, headed inside to wash her hands then returned to his lap, curling into him the way he preferred. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her hair to kiss the back of her neck—that spot he’d found within a week that made her shivery. As he grazed his teeth over that spot, she sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said into his chest. “You were right.”
“What’s that?” he asked, pushing her away and giving her a fake smirk. “Might I record this, for our future children to hear someday?”
She smiled and stroked his bearded cheek. “I cannot have children, my love. I told you that.” He sensed her tense up again, as if ready to bolt.
“I don’t care, Elisa. I don’t want a brood mare. I want you.”
She tucked up under his chin, fitting into his arms in a way that seemed beyond perfect. But when he touched her face, his fingers came away wet. “I want to carry your child, Ross. But He… He… He made sure I’d never be able to do that. He had my tubes tied, after the baby was born, using his money and influence to convince the doctor that we both wanted it.”
“But how…?” He tilted her chin up, his heart breaking all over again for this woman, his woman, and her anguish. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. We have each other. That’s all I want.”
She heaved a sigh and worried the ball in her lower lip. “I was so out of it. So heart-broken over the baby. And woozy from pain. I tore, you see. The baby…hurt me coming out. They had to use a lot of stitches and at some point while I was high on pain meds, they…took away my ability to be a mother. I’m…sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all. Besides…having kids cramps your style. I know. I’ve seen it first-hand.”
He got up, bringing her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. The tip of his cock rested against her warm pussy until she moved, taking him inside her and making them both exhale at the connection. “I don’t know how you do this to me, my love, but I like it.” He kissed her, shoving his tongue into her mouth, wanting her to feel how he felt, to know what he knew about the certainty of them together and trying to relay that with his body.
He sat, then lay back, letting her work him over, happier than he’d ever been in his whole, rather dull, life. She bit his nipples, kissed his neck, his lips, nipping his earlobe as her lower body gripped him, bringing him back from the edge of shut down. Marveling once more at how badly he wanted to be inside her, to come deep in her body, he hooked his leg around hers and rolled them, keeping their connection.
Speechless with lust, he bent one of her legs over his shoulder and moved faster, in and out, feeling the improbable second orgasm overtake his brain.
“Ross, my love,” she said, pulling her other leg up and making a yoga pretzel out of herself so he could go as deep as he’d ever gone inside her. She gasped in pain, so he stopped, mid-stroke.
“Look at me,” he demanded. She opened her eyes, which were bright with unshed tears. “I will not make you cry, Elisa. Please don’t cry.”
She sighed and angled herself so he felt his cock bump up against something inside her. He backed off, alarmed but more turned on that ever. “I’m not crying over you, you fool. I’m crying because you’re making me so happy.”
He dropped his head and started rolling his hips again, the incredible sensation of her pussy stretching and tightening around him making his vision dim and his brain mushy. But his cock was rock hard as he pressed in, then pulled out, just for the pure pleasure of feeling that again and again. “I am…going to come, Elisa…I…oh…God!” He roared into the room and she put her hand over his mouth as he filled her, wanting this connection to mean more, to be the one she
wanted it to be.
Then his entire body went limp. He felt as if he’d run back-to-back marathons as he pulled out of her and dropped onto his back. “Water,” he croaked. She scrambled up and got a bottle from the conveniently located tiny fridge under the television stand. He sat and drank it all in long, greedy gulps, some of it escaping out the sides of his mouth and dropping onto his bare chest.
“God in heaven,” he groaned, groping for her. “That was…a little scary.”
“It was,” she agreed, curling into his side. “And a whole lot incredible.” She walked her fingertips over his chest. “I am sorry. About babies.”
He sighed and kissed her hair, adoring the bare press of her skin against his and wishing this weekend would never end. He ran his hand along the firm thigh she had hiked up to his waist. “I just want us to enjoy each other. No more talk of babies. After your hearing, let’s go away for a while, just us, somewhere quiet and private.”
“Actually,” she said, tweaking his nipple and making him flinch. “I’d like to go home for a while. To Germany.”
“Oh?” He was surprised by this but sleep was rumbling toward him and his body and brain were headed into shut-down mode.
“Yes. I want you to meet my family, my brothers and their wives. And I want to go to Oktoberfest with you.”
He chuckled. “Spoken like a true brewer,” he said. “We’ll do that, my love. Anything you want. Now, I must sleep or I may not be worth a tinker’s damn for the rest of this weekend.”
“I love you,” she whispered, grazing his lips with hers before tucking her head into the hollow of his shoulder, right where she belonged.
The rest of the weekend was pleasant, full of amazing meals, games, drinks and fun on the lake. He’d even managed to get Elisa out on a boat and into the water, which had indeed resulted in a harsh sunburn on her shoulders and face, despite the slathering of the strongest possible sunscreen.
If she wasn’t in the kitchen, she was holding Rose, making her giggle with funny faces or even crawling around with her on the floor, playing with the metric ton of toys Evelyn and Austin had brought. After a Sunday morning spent playing on a blanket out on the grass in the weak sunshine, she handed the kid to Ross, saying that tonight’s dinner was labor intensive and he was in charge of the kinder for rest of the day.
Ross held Rose close, wincing when she reached over to grab his nose with her usual shriek of “Da!”
“Why me? Where are—?”
“Armleuchter! Remember when you told me that children will mess up your sex life?”
He nodded, trying to keep the wiggling child from climbing up onto his shoulders.
“Well, consider this a gift to your good friends.” She nodded toward a couple walking downstairs, their arms around each other, a satisfied look on their faces.
“Ah, yes, of course.” He turned to Austin and Evelyn. “Good morning, lovebirds. Just so you know, I have been given charge of the kinder and she and I will be very busy all day, doing…stuff…together. Consider yourself free of her for a while with my compliments.”
“Ross,” Evelyn said, yawning and stretching in a way that at one time would have made him miserable since he’d given her up for the greater good that was his friend, Austin. But he looked over at Elisa. She winked at him, waved, then ducked into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do that,” Evelyn continued, disentangling from Austin’s arms.
“Oh, yes he does,” Austin insisted, pulling her back and kissing her in such a way that made everyone in the room whistle with admiration. “Now, I say we go back upstairs. We have…some things to discuss.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “Thanks, Ross.”
“My pleasure, my friend,” Ross said. He warmed a bottle from the fridge and plunked himself into the leather recliner and found a soccer game on the telly. Elisa brought him a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich on her homemade rye bread while the baby snoozed on his chest. He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “You make me a better person,” he said.
She sat on the chair arm, kissed the sleeping baby’s slightly sweaty head, then his lips. After drawing away she said, “I’m only doing for you what you do for me.”
They waved goodbye to the group at noon Monday and spent the rest of the day napping in the lounge chairs on the deck. Ross constructed a meal out of the pounds of leftovers in the tidy fridge, and brought it out, with a bottle of expensive Italian wine.
“Holding out on everyone else?” she asked, holding the wine glass to her nose and taking a long sniff. “Nice.”
“Yeah, I was,” he admitted, sipping, then cutting a bite of warmed prime rib and holding it to her lips. “Let me feed you.”
She smiled, and let him do exactly that. They chatted about their trip to Germany, how they might split the time between Berlin and Munich, all the way through the dessert, a bit of leftover tiramisu that had sent their friends into paroxysms of joy but had been too rich to finish the night before.
“I think we should consider opening a restaurant,” he said, as they enjoyed the last of the rich red wine, stretched out on the lounge chairs, their fingers entwined between the seats, watching the sun approach the horizon.
“I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard coming out of your mouth. And that’s saying something.”
“I’m serious, Elisa.”
“I know you are. So am I. There is no way in hell I would ever do that.”
Ross turned on his side to face her. She put her wine down and rolled so they were almost nose-to-nose. “You’re certifiable,” she said, running her fingers down his beard. “And you need to trim this up.”
“We’d specialize in home-style meals—but home-style from around the world. I’ll bet you make a mean schnitzel, no? And ratatouille? And meatloaf?”
“Please tell me you don’t want to open a brewery at the same time?”
“No, no brewery. There are enough of those. I think Austin wants me to stick around, and since I’m sticking around anyway…” He tucked a ropy lock of her hair behind her ear. “We’d serve craft beers, of course, but have a full bar.”
Elisa groaned and rolled onto her back. “You are a horrible, horrible man. Now I think I want that and it’s complete insanity. There are too many restaurants, too.”
“Yeah, but think about it. Trent can find us a good location. You can run the kitchen. Melody might help us find kitchen staff. I think that Caroline chick works in marketing. Maybe she’d help—”
“Hoffman, stop.” She snapped her fingers in front of his face, cutting him off mid-sentence. “You’re delusional. And I don’t want to discuss it anymore.”
He grinned and pulled her up so she was standing on the chair, which put her on eye level with him. “A walk then, a sunset walk, on the beach?” He kissed her, feeling so at home here with her, he could weep, were he a weeper.
They headed down the long flight of steps to the grass then out onto the sand. Fingers locked, hands swinging, he regaled her with stories of his rich but lonely childhood, working his way right up to the bit about the woman who took his virginity and taught him most of the skills he now used to pleasure her.
“Wait,” she said, stopping short and pulling him back. The sun was kissing the horizon now, and a thin scrim of pink, orange and lavender had formed, turning the beautiful view into something truly spectacular. “You said something about your mother’s friend, a fellow teacher? You’ve mentioned her before…”
She let go of his hand and crossed her arms, glaring at him. He grinned and scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder before running down the beach. The sand was warm on his bare feet, the breeze cooling and drying the sweat on his shoulders and face. Elisa was screeching and pounding on his back as he ran, so he stopped and let her tumble down onto the sand on her backside.
She glared up at him. “Nice deflection, Herr Stud Muffin.”
He puffed up his chest and beat it with his fists. “I am your stud muffin and yours alone
, Fraulien Bossy Pants.”
She held out her hand. He took it, but at the last minute recalled her deceptive strength and found himself yanked forward until he landed on top of her, with a mouthful of sand. “If you wanted my body all you had to do was ask.” He rubbed his beard along her cheek, making her squeal and pummel his shoulders.
“Get off me you great, mouth-breathing oaf.”
He rose up, propping his hand on either side of her face. The heat of her skin through the thin batik fabric of the dress made his dick spring to life. She grinned. “You are an animal,” she said before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, sandy lips and all.
She dropped back onto the sand, her arms up over her head. The sun was more than halfway gone now, and he could hear laughter and kids’ voices up and down the sand as families went inside for the evening. The setting sun lit up the right side of her face, making it glow crimson and gold. “I was born to love you, Elisa Henriette,” he said, staring down at her.
She smiled and shifted her hips, drawing her knees up on either side of him. “You were, indeed, Herr Hoffman.” She cupped his chin and slid a hand up under his T-shirt, making him shiver. “I never thought I’d find anyone like you. I honestly believed…him…when he told me I wasn’t worth more than the effort it took to wipe shit off his shoes.”
Ross frowned, and his jaw tightened at her words. “Don’t ruin this,” he warned.
She put a finger to his lips. “No, listen. I have to say it. You have to hear it. I would not be where I am now were it not for my time spent being broken by one man. And I love it that you are willing to bring me back, willing to put up with me and turn me back into the woman I was meant to be.” A tear slipped down her cheek. Ross leaned down and licked it away.
“I am that man, Elisa. If you’ll let me be. Dein ist mein ganzes Herz.”
“I will,” she whispered. He rolled off her and sat, arms propped on his knees, staring at the gorgeous riot of color along the horizon. She got up and draped herself over his shoulders, kissing his neck and running her hands along his torso.
