by KT Morrison
He spread her arms out, clasped his fingers through hers, and looked into her eyes. She moved gently against him, swallowing him up as deep as she could take it. She fucked him like that, her hips moving gently and slowly. She felt him flexing inside her, bulging, spreading her wider and releasing. She watched his face as she used him for pleasure. Slowly he worked into her rhythm and he bit his lip as they picked up the pace. He closed his eyes and pushed himself so deep into her she felt him spread her cervix. He let out a growl and she felt him come right up in her belly, stream after stream, and she pulled him close with her arms and dug her nails into his back as she came too.
Kiley felt him come inside her at the same time he brought her over the edge of another long, powerful orgasm. She had a wave of passion for him. Her heart swelled for Mitch, she breathed it all in deeply, sucking her stomach in, feeling her chest almost burst. She loved him, she thought, her eyes locked on his. She put her hands over his and brought them over her breasts, letting it all out in short little gasps.
She slowly ground her hips against him, felt him subsiding within her. Her sex felt sensitive to the air. Like she wanted to be touched there. She wanted him again and again. She had the crazy thought that she could bear a child for him. For Mitch and for Kate. What a horrible thing to think.
Kate stared at the ceiling laying in bed next to Omar. She could feel his eyes on her, knew he was looking at her. She followed the path of a long crack in the stucco, traced its haphazard route, saw it disappear under the white dome light.
She turned and looked at him and he smiled at her.
“What do you think about?”
“Pretty terrible things,” she said. She put her hand on his cheek, heard the scratch of his stubble. “This has been a lot...” looking up at the ceiling again, “this has been a difficult week.”
“Did you get what you were looking for?”
“I guess so.”
“You are leaving tomorrow, so if there is...” letting it trail, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Oh no. I don’t think I could take any more.” She turned to him, lay on her side. “I hate to sound vulgar, but you really did fuck my brains out. It’s not that. Not that at all. That way I got more than I even planned.”
“You don’t know what then?”
She put her hand on his cheek again and kissed him lightly. She lay back and thought about being home tomorrow night. Being alone with Mitch in the quiet. It’d be Sunday when they got back. Mitch away to the office again on Monday morning.
“Why are you with him then? His dick is so small—”
“Hey, don’t be juvenile. I don’t talk about him like that.”
“If he doesn’t have what you need…how did you ever end up with him? His money?”
She looked at him. “No, that’s not it.”
“It helps, I would say,” shrugging a shoulder.
“No, it doesn’t. The money is a result of who he is. I loved him before he made money.”
“I thought his family was rich?”
“Yeah,” she said. He smiled at her, arrogant, thinking he’d got her. She stayed quiet for a while.
“He loves you like crazy.”
“I know. I love him more than anything.”
“I mean, to let you do this. Let you lay with me like this. I don’t know what to think.”
“I think he understands me more than I could ever have thought.”
“Understand your needs?”
She looked down between his legs, saw his big wrinkled penis, his balls, all hanging over his leg resting on the bed sheet. She reached out and ran her finger along it.
“Have you ever been with someone as big as this?”
“I’ve had boyfriends who were big. But no, no one as big as this.” She sat up and looked around the room. “I’ve got to go,” she said. She stood up and picked up her ruined dress. “What am I going to wear? How am I going to get back?”
He still lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching her. “This is our night.” He pat the bed, said, “It’s just you and me, come lay with me til morning.”
Kiley looked so good laying naked on the bed. She lay looking at him, making strange shy sort of faces.
Mitch pulled on a pair of sweatpants, said, “What are you doing?”
She pulled a strand of hair over her face, said, “Nothing.”
He came over, put his arms on either side of her and kissed her. She kissed him back, slowly, holding on to his lips.
“Call me some room service,” she said.
“Yeah. Let’s get some steaks.”
She rolled over onto her stomach and said, “With lots of butter.”
Mitch did feel ravenous. He called down to them while Kiley flicked through channels on the plasma. He looked at her beautiful body, put a palm on her bare ass cheek, white next to her tan. Called down and ordered steaks and added some red wine to the order. Kiley was on her elbows watching the TV, her feet up in the air.
Mitch took them in his hands, said, “I never got to your feet.” Her feet were small, beautifully shaped, and manicured. He looked at the scrunched soles and kissed them. “I hope you’re going to put some pants on,” he said and lay down next to her.
She looked at him. “Just throw a sheet over me when he gets here. I’m not entirely sure we’re done for the evening.” He put his arm over her and kissed her again.
When room service came he let them in. Wanted the guy to see her laying in his bed, her tan shoulder peeking out from the wild mane of hair, the curve of her thin back, and the perk of her rump under the sheet. He looked back at her while he paid, smiling. She looked over at them and winked.
She woke up around three in the morning with a headache. She pushed Omar’s arm back off her waist and slipped out of bed. She looked out the window, watched one lone car drag along the main strip.
She got her dress off the floor, smelled it. At least it was dry. She put it on her but the seams along the side were torn as well as the stitching along the bodice. She wished she’d brought a bra. Her breasts spilled out of the dress if she didn’t pinch the sides in with her arms. She slipped on her velvet flats and looked over at Omar sleeping naked on top of the dirtied bed.
She called a taxi from outside the room, standing in the cold night. Took her three tries to find one that was open, but she leaned against the wall of the motel and a minivan pulled up in just about five minutes.
The driver didn’t mention her dress so she felt like she might be okay, but getting through her hotel was a worry. It was about an hour in the cab and she fell asleep for most of it but woke up when they were passing through George Town. Looking out the windows, the lit up empty stores with the well-dressed headless mannequins in the windows.
She paid him, arms clamped to her side, and gave him a good tip when he dropped her off at the brightly lit entrance of the hotel.
The lone female concierge looked up as she crossed the lobby then looked back down at her computer. She made it and pressed the up pointing button between the two elevators. The door opened and there was a husband and wife and their teen sons in there coming up from the parking. She stood, staring, but had to step in when the dad held the door open before it would close on her. She stepped behind them, around their luggage, nodded at them, and leaned against the back. The wife looked over her shoulder, brief eye contact, then slowly down her body. The smeared makeup, the tangled hair, torn dress. She felt ashamed. She felt like a pig.
When she got to the room she slipped in quietly. The room was still and warm, lit by one lamp. She threw her purse down on the side table and went to the bedroom. Kiley and Mitch lay in the bed together the same way she had woken with Omar. Their heads were at the bottom of the bed, the TV still on, and they lay spooning, Mitch with his arm around her waist. Kiley’s chin was tucked to her chest, her hand around his hand, both dressed in T-shirt and shorts, a room service tray on the bed with them.
She went to the bathroom and look
ed at herself in the mirror. She washed her face and then bunched up her dress and threw it in the bin. She picked up Kiley’s dress and folded it away, put her shoes together and against the wall, then hung up Mitch’s suit.
She stood and watched them sleep for a moment then put on her shorts and tank top and went to sleep out on the couch.
8
The Small Screen
When Mitch woke up the sun was out and he was face to face with Kiley who was still sleeping. He looked at her clean healthy face, her perfect skin, saw how sweet she looked when she slept. He kissed her on the forehead and stopped himself from touching her, didn’t want to wake her. He sat up in bed, put his feet on the floor, saw how brilliant blue the sky was. Perfect day for travel but he was going to miss the weather. Back to dreary old London. He hoped Kate was all right, hoped she’d enjoyed whatever it was that she didn’t want him to see.
He went to the toilet and relieved himself, looking around while he did, seeing the hanging suit, the tidied shoes. He shook himself off and flushed, noticed the bin was stuffed with a mound of fabric, silk and lace fanning out over the lip. He lifted it out, saw it was the dress she’d bought at the boutique, torn and stinking. He balled it up and put it back in the trash. He went out to the room and looked around but it was just Kiley in there.
He found her sleeping on the couch in the living area. Omar wasn’t in his room. He looked at her laying there in her cotton top and the little shorts, looking just as sweet as Kiley. What had made her like this?
He sat with her, ran his leg up her thigh, felt a charge just from feeling her soft skin under his palm. Her eyes stirred and he kissed her.
She put her hand on his cheek and looked up at him and said, “Good morning.”
He put his arm around her back, caressed her.
She watched him look her over and saw her eyes tremble. She said, “You might want me to wash up first.”
He nodded at her, squeezed her arm. “How’d it go?”
“Can I just not...maybe just not now. I don’t want to think about it.”
“Did you get what you wanted?”
“Yes. I just want to go home.”
He sat and looked her over, wondered what it was that gave her this power over him.
“Is Omar all right?”
“Yeah, I left him at the other hotel. I just wanted to be here.” She held his hand, and pulled it to her chest. She wasn’t looking at him, just off across the room and he let her hold him like that for as long as she wanted.
Mitch watched Kate and Omar from the big window of the beachside diner. Things had changed between those two and he liked it. He knew every bit of Kate’s body and how it communicated. She had cooled. She was ready to go home. He watched her stand and talk to him. Even smile, friendly enough, but there wasn’t any of the flirtatious hair-touching, the cocked head, eyes peeking up through her long, long eyelashes.
The two of them talking in the low morning sun, working something out. He could look at her all day. Her bare sunburned legs below a big faded collared shirt. Buttoned right up now.
They came in and sat themselves across from Mitch and Kiley, Omar sliding into the booth first, up against the window. Mitch had ordered for Kate—tea, toast, and a soft-boiled. Like every morning. She nodded to him, mouthed the word Thanks.
“Everyone looking forward to getting back to the grind?” Kiley asked, eating her breakfast. She was next to Mitch, holding a fork out over her plate, wearing a bright green tank over a long patterned skirt.
“I know I’ll have a busy week. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do—this one made me turn my phone off the whole time,” Mitch said, smiling over at Kate.
“I’ve seen him checking it, don’t let him tell you he’s fallen out of the loop,” Kate said.
Kiley looked at Mitch, said, “I’m in Norway in a few days for a conference that’s going to be a real snoozer.”
“Remember what I told you,” Mitch said and laughed with her. Kate watched them, frowning.
Omar said, ”I have some exciting ideas I wanted to put together for my team. Some recent changes may have injected new blood into our garage. I can’t wait to get back home.”
Kate looked over at Omar, then back across at Mitch and Kiley. She had nothing to add.
Kate watched her fresh-faced, longtime friend as she flirted with her husband. Sitting there eating, batting her eyes at him, her slim bare arms and her beautiful hair. This was new, this feeling. She loved Kiley, trusted her, but she didn’t like how cozy they looked together. They really made a good-looking couple.
She let it happen, enjoyed the discomfort it put in her. She had some fences to mend with Mitch and she was going to show him a good time when they got home. This was fuel for her fire. Kiley would be a distant memory in no time.
She felt Omar next to her, he was turned to her, trying to get her attention. She looked over at him, his handsome face and flashing eyes framed by a beautiful sea under a brilliant morning sky. He wasn’t saying anything, just smiling at her strangely. He was hunched over his plate, one elbow on the table. She looked down in his lap at his other hand down there. He was holding up a leg of his satiny shorts and the end of his cock hung out of it onto the bench.
She shook her head at him, still looking at it. She was done though, for sure. She was sore, too sore to consider one more go around, even just a little final quickie before getting on the plane. She wanted to resist but she was so attracted to that thing. So aroused by it. She watched Mitch and Kiley talking business and moved her hand down between his legs, searching for it. She gripped it, squeezing it and running her thumb over the top of the head under the thick foreskin.
Her heart raced, she felt a surge within her, wanting more. She though of Omar aroused at the table, his huge cock with no place to hide. It would reach the table, she was sure of it. She squeezed him, gave it a little good-bye, and tugged his short leg over it.
She folded her hands together on the edge of the table, took a breath and tried to compose herself. Kiley was watching her from across the table. Had she seen that, figured out what she was doing? She felt embarrassed.
She excused herself and went to the ladies room, crossed the diner and closed herself in. She gripped the edges of the sink, saw her face flushed in the mirror. She ran the tap and splashed cold water onto her face. Pressed the cold back of her hands into her cheeks, struggled to get herself together.
Omar looked quickly over his shoulder at the mostly empty diner before he stepped quickly into the women’s washroom. Kate looked over at him, startled. She said Hey, or something and backed away from the sink.
He stalked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. He said, “This is your last time.” She glanced at the door. She was beautiful, even without makeup. He wanted her.
“Omar, I—” but he interrupted her, putting his mouth over hers and kissing her. He started on her buttons, feeling himself start to harden, straining the front of his shorts. She put her hands on his chest and pushed herself away, looking into his eyes.
They stared at each other in the hazy light coming from the window in the tiny two stall bathroom. Finally, Kate said, “Someone could come in,” looking over at the door. Omar moved to her putting his hands to her waist inside her opened denim shirt. He kissed her again, moved his hands up to her big breasts still in a plaid bikini top. He felt her nipples harden and she started to get into it now. He pulled himself out of his shorts and let it hang between them half-hard. He kissed her again, putting both hands around her neck. Her hands were on him, between his legs, milking him, pulling his cock downward and squeezing, fingernails scratching his scrotum, getting him harder.
She broke away, whispered In here, and backed herself into an open stall, pulling him along by his cock. He closed the stall door behind him and bolted it and she sat down on the toilet seat. She reached behind her and untied the top, pulling it away, letting her breasts fall free.
He put his cock in her fac
e and she looked at it, put both hands on it and started stroking him. She told him she was too sore and put it in her mouth, struggled with it, but she kept her hands moving and it felt really good. He let her go a good while, he knew he wasn’t going to fuck her. He slid her denim shirt off her shoulders when he felt like he was getting close. He leaned back and pushed his hips toward her and she knew he was going to come. She worked him hard, both hands twisting and stroking, suction noises echoed off the walls of the bathroom as her lips lost their grip on the rim of his big glans, air being sucked in. He felt it building and he pulled the front of his shorts down, let his balls swing.
He put his hand on her ponytail, gripped it, and he pulled her head back so he could come in her face. She kept stroking with one hand and grabbed his balls with the other. She pursed her lips, squinted her eyes, and she held her breath as the first stream landed across her cheek. She squeezed him and pulled on him and he choked as he spurted again and again, splashing her on the chin and neck, on her forehead, then across her collar and her chest. He collapsed back against the stall door, catching his breath.
She didn’t say anything, just started pulling on toilet paper, bunching it up in her hands, her tits swinging, his seed running down them. She wiped herself off, throwing clumps of paper on to the floor, trying to keep his semen from getting on her clothes.
“You’re amazing,” he said, hitching his shorts up, his dick slinging a string of come along the metal wall of the stall. She watched it run down, didn’t say anything, just sat there with a ball of cheap coarse paper in her fingers.
“So what becomes of us now?” he said.
“Becomes of us? Nothing,” shaking her head, “we go home now.”
