by Tabatha Kiss
“Don’t stop, Hamilton,” I whisper. “Please…” My fingers brush through his hair as he descends my body. He returns the camera to a safe place and dives back into me. His lips never leave my skin as he moves, tickling me with kisses. My body is on fire, trembling with anticipation. I quiver against his touch. His finger glide towards my nether and slide against my moist folds. My clitoris screams pleasure, his fingers tapping gentle notes upon it.
He rises up to kiss me. Our tongues dance together, urging our passions to continue on. I’m throbbing now. The wait hurts so much. I put my hands on his shoulders and push him with gentle pressure. Down, down. I’m dripping now, waiting for his kiss on my nether lips.
“Hamilton…” I cry quietly.
He lets out a soft grunt and drops to the floor beside the bed, balancing on his knees.
“Oh!” I yelp in surprise. I feel his hands grip my body and pull me to the bed’s edge.
Hamilton lays my knees over his shoulders. I keep my legs wide apart, giving him full access to my everything. “Can I taste you?” he asks in the dark moonlight.
“Yes!” I moan. My knees twitch against his head. I bite my lips. I grip the bedspread beneath me. I wait. The seconds feel like hours. “Please, yes!”
He kisses my thighs and I feel his stubble against me. It scratches at me, the pain spreading across my lap. I love it. I want more of him. His warm breath embraces my folds. I squeeze the bed tighter with my aching fingers.
And finally, I feel his tongue. It traces my outer lips, refusing to go inside. I cry out in frustration. The unbearable tease wrecks my core. I want to reach down and guide him, but I stay put. I wouldn’t know how to use my digits even if I tried. Up and down. His tongue moves along my outer rim. I see his eyes glancing up at me in the pale moonlight. He’s enjoying my torment.
Hamilton pushes his tongue inside my slit with one sudden motion.
“Oh, gosh!” I moan. My back arches off the bed. Hamilton ravages me like a ravenous animal, hungry for thirst. His strong tongue laps at me, tasting me, taunting me. He swings up and down, coming ever so close to my clit, only to retreat to the sidelines. This tease, it’s too much. My swollen bud throbs pink. It’s so hard, it almost hurts. My blood craves him.
“Your pussy…” I hear him groan in the darkness. “It’s so good, Jennifer…”
I laugh to myself. I’m nearing the edge, ready to jump off for him. But I just have to feel him against my clit before I explode… Please, just once…
His teeth etch a line across it and I scream out in pure ecstasy. With pursed lips, Hamilton sucks on my clit. The pain of it pushes me through an earth-shattering climax. I wail loudly and grip his hair, pulling him in even more as my juices flow against his tongue. He tastes me with a smile on his face. My muscles pulsate wildly as the wave of climax rolls off of me.
“Oh, Hamilton,” I whisper. I brush his hair with my hands, pushing it out of the way so I can see his eyes. He kisses my belly with moist lips, traveling up to offer me his kisses. I embrace him, wanting so much more of him.
My fingers push their way inside his trousers and I find my prize with ease. He heaves a breath of passion as I take his thick crown in my palm and stroke him.
“Take me, Hamilton,” I whisper between firm kisses. I push his pants down his legs and use my feet to kick them away.
Hamilton grips my hands and raises them above my head. I feel his hard member rest against my body. In the darkness, I can tell he’s quite large and I crave the delicious pain his thrusts will bring me.
He jerks my legs apart and settles himself between my thighs. I lean up and steal a few kisses as he uses one hand to align himself with my dripping slit. His fingers latch tightly around my hands above my head, locking me in place beneath him.
“You want this, Jennifer?” he asks. He stares into my eyes.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Say it,” he orders.
“I want this, Hamilton,” I say with shaking words.
“Are you sure?” he asks me again.
I focus on the words. For a second, doubt creeps into my conscious mind and I hate him for ruining the moment. I ignore it in favor of feeling the pleasure I feel I deserved.
“Fuck me, Hamilton,” I say firmly. It’s by far the dirtiest thing I’ve ever said. It makes a smirk curl along the side of his lips.
He pushes forward slightly, stretching my opening wide with his thick crown. I sigh as the gentle tear shocks my core. His thick rod pauses at my entrance as he gages my reaction. I see the pleasure in his eyes. He wants to push in further, but he won’t take the plunge. I kiss him quickly, a soft kiss. A kiss designed to tell him everything is going to be okay.
Hamilton thrusts in deeper. His nails dig into my skin as his pleasure mounts. The hard manhood massages my insides, sliding in and out of my moistness with ease. He keeps me pinned with slow, deliberate thrusts, taking full control of my body. I feel only what he wills me to feel.
My body shakes. “Hamilton…” I moan.
“Shh…” he tells me. “Don’t make a sound. Even as you come on my dick,” he pounds me hard against the mattress, “don’t make a sound.”
I tremble at his words and bite my lips to keep from screaming. With each thrust, my pleasure builds. I want to cry out, but I want to satisfy his game even more. I keep my mouth shut, fighting every natural urge to groan and whimper.
“That’s a good girl…” he whispers. “Look into my eyes.”
My eyes lock on his. I think of all the times I used to look into his eyes and feel safe. Hamilton took his role as the protective older brother seriously back when we were young. He always had his eye on me, even when I wasn’t aware of it. When he disappeared those years ago, I lost my safety net. It’s no wonder I went so far astray.
I push a moan back down my throat and buck my hips to meet his next few thrusts. The movement excites him. His eyes shine brightly with pleasured amusement.
“Do you want it harder?” he asks. “Nod.”
I nod my head up and down and he immediately increases his firmness inside. I chew on my inner cheek, refusing the buckle under the sexual pressure.
“Do you like it like this?” he asks.
I nod.
“Do you like me holding you down?”
Another nod. He grinds against me.
“Does this dick satisfy you?”
I struggle to keep my silence. A whimper escapes my lips as the pressure builds inside.
“Jennifer…” he holds my gaze steady. “I’m going to come inside of you.”
I moan at his words.
“Take it,” he grunts. “Will you take it?”
I nod quickly.
“Come with me,” Hamilton demands. “Scream for me.”
I drop my mouth open and let out a shriek of ecstasy. My head drops and I look to the ceiling as my tension breaks. I grind against his manhood, massaging the climax out of me. Hamilton holds me in place as he pumps his heated desire inside of me. His grunts sound in my ears. I squeeze my muscles around his spent manhood, milking him for every drop.
His iron grip on my hands loosens as he collapses his strength against the bed. I embrace him immediately, feeling his flaccid fellow throbbing softly between my folds.
“I love you, Jennifer.”
His voice enters my ears, sounding almost like an echo. At first, I’m not sure what I heard or if it was even real. I kiss his neck, tasting the sweet sweat on his skin. I don’t have the strength to reply. I’m on the brink of consciousness, only seconds away from retreating into a deep, exhausted slumber.
Chapter 7
I awake with an unfamiliar ceiling hanging over my head. A brilliant skylight fills the room with the morning sunshine, forcing me to block it with one hand as I sit up to engage my surroundings.
It’s a small, one room apartment. I’m lying in a small bed with fluffy pillows. I look beneath the sheet and discover my naked body. I remember the night before and a smile cr
awls across my face.
“Good morning.”
I hear my stepbrother’s voice and look up. Hamilton stands in the kitchen holding a mug. He’s fully clothed in a pair of slacks and a black t-shirt.
“Hey,” I say. “Where am I?”
He smirks and takes a sip from his mug. “My apartment above the studio.”
“Oh,” I say. The dots connect in my head. A rush of panic fills me. “What time is it?”
“Just passed eight,” he answers.
“I have to get home,” I say. I toss the sheet off and stand up.
“Relax, Jennifer,” Hamilton says. He puts his mug down and walks closer to me.
“I need my clothes,” I say.
“I’ll go down and get them,” he says. “It was a bit too dark to find them last night…”
“Please.” I wrap my arms around my torso. “Now, Hamilton.”
“Just, wait a minute, will you?” he asks.
“He’s probably furious with me…” I mutter.
“All the more reason to stay here,” he says.
“I have to go home sometime, Hamilton.”
“Do you?” he asks.
“Yes.” I answer firmly. “Believe me when I say I have no regrets about this, but the sooner I smooth last night over with him, the better it’ll be for everyone.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Hamilton asks.
I take a quick breath. “No,” I say. “He doesn’t need to know about this.”
“Are you going to leave him?”
“Yes—” I say. “No. Maybe. I can’t answer that yet,” I say. “Hamilton, please, there are a lot of questions that need answers right now and I’d rather think about them fully clothed. Please.”
He pauses for a brief moment, his eyes glancing down my body. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” He steps towards the door across the room. I look around him to see a stairwell leading down. He closes the door behind him and I’m left with sound of his feet thumping down the creaking wooden stairs.
A chill flows through my body. I wonder what John is doing right now. Is he driving around the city looking for me? Did he call the police? Or did he never even notice I was gone?
I step to the window and look out at the active street corner below. The world moves on around me, even as I stand still above it. I wonder about what everyone else must be thinking and what problems they have. Are they all that different from me?
I hear the tapping of feet and turn to see Hamilton walking into the apartment again. “Here,” he says as he holds a wad of clothing out to me, along with my shoes.
“Thank you,” I say. I take them and step into my panties first. Then I pull my pants back on and throw the shirt over my shoulders. The whole time, I watch Hamilton’s expression. His eyes never leave my body as I conceal myself piece-by-piece.
“I don’t think you should go back,” he says.
I pull my finger through my hair in a futile attempt at ridding it of tangles. “I know.”
“He’s wrong for you,” he continues.
“I know that, too.”
“Then what the hell are you thinking?” He stumbles on his words, looking as flustered as ever.
“It’s not that simple,” I argue. “You’ve never been married before, Hamilton. There are other factors involved than just what I want.”
“Oh, I think he’s gotten plenty of what he wants out of your marriage,” he snaps.
“Hamilton, please.” I sit on the edge of the bed and slip my shoes on. “Just give me some time to process this situation.”
“Fine,” he says. He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms. “Are you sure you want to go alone?”
“Yeah,” I say. “It’ll be better that way. I don’t want him jumping to any conclusions that I don’t want him to.”
“Okay,” he mutters. “If anything happens, I’ll be here.”
I stand up and step over to him. “I know you will be,” I say. I place a hand on his cheek. “Thank you.” He doesn’t hesitate. He leans in and kisses me softly. “I can handle John,” I say.
As I pull my hand away, he quickly reaches out and grabs it.
“Will you come back to me?” he asks.
I smile. “Yes,” I answer. “Just give me some time. Okay?”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes. I promise.”
He nods and drops my hands. I step around him and climb down the stairs.
***
“Jennifer, is that you?”
I hear his voice the second I open the door. My heart was already racing from seeing his car still parked in the garage.
John rushes into the living room. He wears his sleeping slacks and a baggy t-shirt. His eyes are red from lack of sleep and he sports a good bit of stubble from missing his morning shave. “My god, Jenny? Where were you?!”
“I just had to get away for the night,” I say as I close the front door behind me.
“I tried calling you a thousand times before I realized you left your phone charging by the bed,” he says quickly.
“I didn’t want to be contacted.” I put my purse on the couch and sit down next to it.
“Where did you go?” he asks.
“I went to a hotel,” I lie.
He sits across from me in an armchair. “A hotel?” he repeats the word.
“You scared me, John,” I say. My eyes bounce from my fingers to his face then back again. I can’t bring myself to look at him any longer than a few seconds. “You really scared me last night.”
“I know,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, Jennifer.”
“Are you really?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he says. “Yes, I am. I remember the things I said to you and I hate myself for it.”
“It’s not just last night, John,” I say. I take a deep breath. Ever since I left Hamilton’s studio this morning, I’ve been planning out the things I want to say to him. “It’s been bad for a while now.”
“Bad?” He looks at me with such confusion. It makes me want to slap him.
“You don’t support me, John,” I say. I fight to keep my gaze upright. “It’s like, ever since we got married it’s all about you and what you want. And everything I want has been forgotten or pushed aside.”
“Like what?” he asks. I can tell by his face that he genuinely doesn’t know. He’s not being snide or dismissive.
“I don’t want to just be your house wife, John,” I say, my voice cracking. “I did not marry you so I could stay here all day long and have no life.”
“I never said you had to—”
“You made me stop going to my actors group. I lost all of my friends in that when I was forced to quit—”
“Those people weren’t good for you,” he interrupts. “They filled your head with nonsense.”
“I’ll decide what people are good for me, John. I will decide,” I say with firm voice.
I see the anger pass through his face, but luckily, he says nothing further on the subject.
“And you objected when I wanted to spend time with my mother while she was ill,” I say. Tears start to fill my eyes, but I use all of my strength to hold them back. “I lost valuable time with her when she was still in good shape that I’ll never get back now.”
“You didn’t need to be around that kind of negativity,” he argues.
“That wasn’t your choice,” I say.
“So, I’m the bad guy then,” he mutters. “I look out for you. I have opinions about your well-being. And you peg me a monster?”
“You’re not a monster, John,” I say. I can’t stand the look in his eyes. The look of a man betrayed. “I’m sure you believe you meant well, but in truth, I’ve never felt more suffocated.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this…” He stands up from the armchair and begins pacing around the living room.
“John, you had to have noticed,” I say. “Please, tell me that you’ve noticed my pain.”
He pau
ses and leans against the bookcase in the corner. “I haven’t.”
I breathe a deep sigh. This whole time, I believed John did what he did with full intent on controlling me. Perhaps I’ve done such a good job of hiding my feelings that he had no chance of noticing.
“I’m an awful man,” he says. “My wife suffers and I don’t even notice.”
I stand up and walk over to him. “John,” I take his face in my hands, “you’re not a bad man.” I hear the words come out of my lips. I hate them. But the instinctive reaction to comfort him wins out above all else. “You’ve done what you believe you’re supposed to do as a husband. But as a wife, my role isn’t the same as it was for your mother or your grandmother. I am your equal and I deserve to be treated as one.”
“I understand, Jennifer,” he says. His fingers wrap around my wrists and he slowly pulls my hands from his face. “I promise, from now on, things will be different.”
And just like that, I believe him. This is the first time I’ve spoken to him so bluntly about the matter. Maybe this time, things really will be different. My feelings split in civil war. Years of repression do battle with the promise of a new beginning. I lean in and kiss John on his lips, the same lips I’ve kissed so many times before. The lips of the man I once fell head over heels in love with. The man I still love.
“I love you, Jennifer,” John says to me. “I’m sorry.”
“I love you, too, John.” The words sting my heart, knowing that I’ve already broken my marriage vow to him. I spent the night with another man. Do I even deserve the love of my husband now?
I pull him into my arms and embrace him.
“I’ve taken the day off work,” John says as he pulls away. “Let’s go to the cabin.”
“The cabin?” I ask. Beautiful memories fill my mind. Days of lovemaking and relaxing by the lake during our honeymoon and many weekends thereafter in the first year of our marriage. “Now?”
“Yes.” He takes my hands and plants kisses on my knuckles. “We need a chance to heal, I think… I’ve already called the campsite this morning and it’s available for the weekend.”
