by J J Monroe
‘Can I ask you a question?’ I can’t wait any longer. It is time for direct action. I reach for the olive and play with it, easing it between my lips and sucking on it – and now I have your full attention, Matt Richards, don’t I?
‘What’s on your mind?’
‘You’re on my mind, and I don’t know if it’s just the alcohol talking but there are things I really want to know.’
‘Ask away,’ Matt replies, reaching for his bottle again.
‘Why isn’t there a ring on your finger?’
‘Why isn’t there one on yours?’ he replies.
‘I asked first.’
‘That’s fair.’ He takes another swig.
‘You’re stalling.’
‘I am,’ he agrees. ‘Maybe I don’t believe in the institution of marriage.’
‘That’s an answer.’
‘But you don’t seem willing to accept it.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘I can see it in your eyes, Ava, and they really are incredible. They’re not unlike looking into pools of molten chocolate.’
‘That’s more like I was expecting,’ I say, not able to prevent the grin from spreading.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You’re a ladykiller. I totally get it. I mean, you’re a good-looking guy and this bakery programme is the perfect vehicle for you to make a killing in the bedroom stakes but I’ve been really surprised by you all day long. No lines, no moves, until just then.’
‘You do have beautiful eyes.’
‘I know.’
‘What is this?’ exclaims Matt. ‘Let me make a note of this because –’ and he checks his watch ‘– at ten-oh-seven precisely, Ava Michaels accepted a compliment.’ He screws his eyes up. ‘What is your game exactly? You play the innocent but you’re far from it, aren’t you?’
‘I never said I was innocent,’ I reply, reaching for my martini glass and draining it. ‘I’ve just been waiting for you to ask the right questions.’ And now the game is on for sure! I see his eyes light up.
‘And here was me worrying about my moves, when you’ve got enough moves for the both of us.’
‘The question really is do you want to play?’
‘Do I want to play?’ he repeats, unable to stop that killer smile from creasing his lips.
‘Have you got the balls?’ I lick the taste of martini from my lips. It’s not subtle but it’s not meant to be.
‘Why don’t we find out?’ He empties the last of his beer bottle.
‘Why don’t we?’ I reply, and the heat coming off our bodies could kick-start nuclear reactors. Let the evening now truly begin!
The elevator doors chime closed and, like the bell at a boxing ring announcing the start of combat, the games commence. His lips burn to the touch, seeking out mine as his steely body presses me into the side wall of the elevator. The dam has been breached and all attempts at decency and order will be trampled into the dust. This is a fight for supremacy and survival. I find his lips and the strength of my own wanting leaves me gasping as I drive my tongue harder and harder into his mouth, feeling his tongue pressing back as the strength of his need for me grows and stiffens in his crotch. I feel him rigid, pressing into me, and his hard length is a very welcome distraction. My hand finds it, moulding to the shape of him against the barrier of his jeans. His lips find my neck and I let out a low moan as he presses himself into me. Three submissions and one glorious fuck is all I am looking for tonight.
His hand squeezes my breast through the fabric of my shirt and I feel my nipple react to his touch. His palm burns me and I feel the flesh of my areola start to sizzle. My hand closes on his hand as I suck the air through my teeth. The air is starting to heat up around us. Slipping my fingers through his, I guide his hand from my breast, placing it between my thighs so his palm cups my crotch. The heat of his touch devours me. I feel the buzz engulf me.
Buttons on my shirt pop open, revealing wanton flesh and black lingerie. His mouth finds mine as our kisses channel our growing desire; harder, faster, longer, deeper, kiss upon kiss. There is no beginning and there is no end; only his lips upon mine and I never want them to stop. The feeling is heavenly and the itch in my crotch is a full-on fire. His palm massages the fabric of my jeans as we continue to trade kisses but he is a tease. Surely he knows what to do? Have I not shown him the way? Why does he play with me so when clearly I need more?
‘What are you waiting for?’ I moan through kiss-hungry lips.
He looks at me and I see the flames of longing and desire bubble and ignite in his eyes. Pressed against the elevator wall with my shirt unbuttoned, I am his for the taking. So take me! I beg silently. Don’t play games with me, not now when my desire is tattooed across my face so clearly for you to see.
The button on my jeans opens as he works it free with his thumb and finger. I feel the zip start to give and the pressure release is immediate. Pressing me further into the elevator wall, Matt kisses me harder, still nailing me to the wall with his rock-hard body, freeing up his hands to wriggle my jeans down my hips. His palm flattens against the crotch of my panties and I shiver with anticipation of what he is about to do. Invade me with your fingers. Tease me with your touch. Leave me gasping for release. Do it all. Do everything! I am greedy and needy for your touch.
His palm rests there, not moving, heat radiating off it and surging through me. I am wet for him. My sex aches for his attention. I press myself against his palm as if he needs further encouragement. He kisses me as his fingers breach the boundary of my panties and now we’re getting somewhere. Another kiss and another and now his fingers are starting to wander and it’s a struggle to concentrate on anything. Matt nuzzles my ear with his teeth and I sigh involuntarily.
‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he whispers playfully.
Where am I going to go, exactly? I ponder as he starts to work his way down my body and his finger massages my source of infinite pleasure. I bite my lips to stop myself from yelling out encouragement but the sensation of his rough digit on my delicate pearl is sending all the right signals buzzing through my brain. He slips his finger free, instantly replacing it with his thumb, and I am powerless to prevent the slide of my jeans down my thighs and lower still. My head feels woozy and I am thankful for the elevator wall to stop me floating away into the stratosphere.
I feel his lips on my stomach, warm and moist and intoxicating, and my heart skips a beat. Wicked thoughts circle and spiral in my head and I have to bite my lip again as Matt hooks his fingers into my panties and peels them slowly but surely away from my sex. I am naked and exposed. Letting my panties fall, Matt kisses each thigh in turn before working his mouth up my inner thigh. The knowledge of what he is about to do makes me wetter still. Gently, he parts my lips with his fingers before running his tongue over my pussy lips. He is hot and rough and the contrasting sensations make me gasp out loud. This is too much and yet it is everything and more. This isn’t happening. I have drifted off into the darkest recesses of my mind.
He parts my lips wider, allowing his tongue access to my pussy, then he invades me. His tongue is rough and hard and insistent. I shiver with the excitement of his touch and then, like some Zen master, he presses his thumb to my clit and I am lost, a prisoner to the sensations screaming through my body. He holds me in place, a hand on my stomach pressing me against the wall as he tongues me with hard, determined strokes. All the while his thumb beats out its own hypnotic rhythm on my pearl. The sensations build rapidly; they sizzle and spark from deep within, my own personal love tornado ripping through my body. I press my palms into the wall and brace myself for the explosion, and all the time the Heavenly Baker keeps fondling and kissing me.
‘Oh fuck me!’ I yell. I scream. There is no place for decorum now. Awaken the gods because they need to hear this. Don Juan might just as well pack his case because there’s a new lover in town and he is sensational.
I clench and feel the contractions shred me from the in
side. I pant and gasp and am consumed by this fierce love exorcism. The grenade detonates and I feel my body incinerated. Instantly, every part of me is returned but I am different. How can I not be different now?
The sensations peak and drift away from me and I am acutely aware that the sound of my own heartbeat is deafening. I blow a rogue strand of hair from out of my face and open my eyes. He is sitting on the floor of the elevator, looking up at me undone before him, but he is no obedient dog at my feet. No, whatever he is to me I am bound to him now for ever and a day.
‘You’re not real, are you? The gods sent you.’
He smiles.
‘What am I supposed to do now?’ I’m half leaning against the elevator wall with my panties and jeans still round my ankles. I’ve had better looks.
‘I can think of one or two suggestions,’ remarks Matt and he has that glint of trouble right there in his eyes.
‘I bet you can,’ I say. ‘Turn around.’
‘But I’ve …’
‘Turn around,’ I insist and, like the gentleman I believe him to be, he does so.
As I begin to slide my panties back in place and restore my jeans to some level of decency and button my shirt I realise that the ball is now in my court. But how can I raise the stakes when the bar has been set so high? It is a quandary, is it not? And then a thought wanders into my brain – a naughty, wicked thought – and now it is here I cannot dislodge it. It curls my lips into a smile. Yes, perhaps it is time to raise the bar and I know just how.
Matt starts to turn.
‘Hey!’ I declare. ‘No peeking.’
‘But I thought …’
‘It’s dangerous to think. Now, just wait.’
With a ridiculous smile plastered all over my face and the knowledge that this is beyond bad I set my fiendish plan in motion. My heart thunders against my chest as the adrenaline kicks in. I creep closer to Matt and whisper seductively in his ear. ‘Close your eyes and count to ten and don’t even think about peeking, mister, otherwise you’ll ruin the surprise.’
‘OK,’ says Matt over his shoulder.
‘Close your eyes,’ I insist. ‘Promise me you will.’
‘I promise,’ he replies and closes his eyes.
I open the elevator door and peek out. The coast is clear, so I do what any self-respecting girl in my position would do and make a run for it, leaving a pile of clothes lying on the floor. As I dart along the corridor au naturel I realise I haven’t had this much fun in years!
Chapter Six – Screaming the House Down
I can honestly say I’ve never, ever done this before. I’ve never stripped naked and hidden from any of my previous lovers. It just didn’t seem appropriate at the time so why does it feel right now? As I lurk in my hotel room in the buff, my whole body is tingling just waiting for the hotel door to open. The elevator scene is on continuous loop, playing over in my head, and even now I can recall every last delightful detail of Matt Richards eating me out. The feel of his tongue brushing against my lips; the shiver that emanated from my very core and reverberated through my entire body: these sensations still echo inside me. I am 36 years of age and I finally feel completely alive.
The hotel door-handle arcs as pressure is applied and every nerve and muscle tenses. This is a risk, a calculated risk, and I want him to love it. I want him to love me. I know it is insane. We have only just met but I am in Wonderland and I have no intention of ever leaving willingly. The Heavenly Baker enters my hotel room, wearing an easy grin and carrying a pile of very familiar discarded clothes.
‘Would you believe some careless soul left her clothes in the elevator?’
‘How do you know it’s a woman?’ I ask from my hiding place behind a strategically placed curtain.
‘No transvestite could look that good in this lingerie,’ he replies, nodding at the bra and panties lying on top of the pile.
‘Well done, Sherlock.’
‘It’s a bold move,’ he says.
‘None more so than that trick you pulled in the elevator.’
‘You liked that?’
‘You must be related to Houdini.’
‘No. I just summered at Hogwarts,’ he says, his voice relaxed and warm. He is enjoying himself, the consummate player in absolutely no hurry. He has his prey cornered so why rush the kill?
‘Now, I’m all for decorum,’ he continues. ‘But I should imagine the folks on the street below are really enjoying your impromptu show.’
I nearly release the curtain but then I wise up. ‘You’re a sly one, Mr Richards. No one can see me from way down there.’
‘Maybe not,’ he agrees. ‘But why take the risk, or is this your true persona? Perhaps the shy country girl is merely an act? “Come in, why don’t you?” said the spider to the fly.’
‘Indeed,’ I murmur. ‘Come in, come in.’ And I beckon the Heavenly Baker closer, revealing a lot of leg to entice him further into my lair.
Matt takes a step, laying the pile of clothes he is carrying on the black leather sofa as he passes by.
‘Why Miss Michaels, aren’t you just full of surprises?’
‘Yes, I am.’ I feel the intensity of anticipation start to build in every atom of my body. I am invigorated and possessed. I feel the cravings of sexual hunger, so recently sated by our elevator hook-up, build and grow, returning with a savage interest. It is not enough just to have his tongue inside me. No, I need everything now. I need to explore every inch of his body and feel every part of him, but there is one part above all that I need to feel sliding deep between my thighs into my sex. I need to know how it feels to have him hard and thrusting. I must know the pressure of him engulfing me, stretching me, filling me to the hilt. I want to feel his chest rubbing against my nipples, his tongue hot on my throat, his arms enveloping me, holding me as he slides deeper into my soul. I need to know how it feels to hold him in my arms as the sound and the fury of our lovemaking dissipates to leave him spent, lying wrapped up in me, with the only sound the beating of his heart thumping against my own. Yes, these things I need to know and then, and only then, will I feel truly satisfied.
Christ, this hunger for him is a disease. It invades my every sense until I can think of nothing except the raw, animal need to fuck. There is emotion here, but at its core there is an overwhelming urge simply to ride this sexual hunger out of me. Wild horses need breaking in and I am no different. I have urges and desires. I need to be fucked hard and fast, slow and lazy. I am a child left in the candy store without boundaries or restrictions. Tonight, until the sun comes up and reality sets in, there are no limitations.
‘Well?’ I ask, watching Matt Richards standing just out of reach with his arms folded, smiling back at me. ‘What exactly are you waiting for?’
‘I’m in no hurry.’
‘I can see that.’ Seriously, can this boy be any more exasperating? ‘But you’re not the only one in the room and take it from someone who knows, she’s in plenty of a hurry.’
‘And why might that be?’ enquires Matt good-naturedly.
‘You’re really not that simple.’
‘I’m not. But I am wrestling with a dilemma.’
‘Standing up, lying down; I really don’t care, but we need to get with it.’
‘You know, Ava,’ he remarks. ‘If we’re going to work together you’re going to have to stop beating around the bush and tell me how you really feel.’
‘Oh, so you want to talk about bush?’ I know he’s playing with me but this desire is a raging inferno and if I don’t get some action very soon I’m heading for a meltdown.
‘If we sleep together and you don’t win the competition, how is that going to look?’
‘That’s really what’s on your mind right now? I’m buck naked behind this curtain and you’re weighing up some work dilemma. Tell me you’re not serious?’
‘No, I’m not,’ says Matt laughing. ‘But the look on your face is absolutely priceless and I’ve had about as much as I can take of wondering w
hat treasures are hidden behind those drapes.’
Two steps are all that’s required and he’s right here, taking me in his arms: strong, powerful arms, arms in which a girl can lose herself in and hide from the world. The curtain offers absolutely no protection from his advances, but it was never meant to. He encloses me deep inside his world as I tilt my head to meet his lips, lips that are already familiar. He takes his time, not rushing but holding my lips against his, savouring the moment, and in turn I relish the feel of them pressed against mine and his strong embrace. I feel safe here in his arms. I feel right where I want to be, a safe haven amidst the storms of life.
Nothing lasts, and certainly not this moment. I feel his desire growing hard and pressing against me and his lingering kiss suddenly starts to become more animated. I respond in kind as the fire rages deep in my crotch. His tongue is on the move, teasing my flesh, leaving its mark wherever it chooses to roam. He is insanely hard and in turn I am hot with desire for him. My nipples ache, desperate to be touched by him; my thighs are on fire with this incessant, burning need.
‘Take me,’ I murmur, but I doubt he requires any further encouragement. He seems to have the right idea. I wrap my leg around his manly frame and feel the coarse fabric of his jeans rub against me. It is simply delightful. His wandering tongue drifts lower, his lips brushing my achingly erect nipple. Yes, that’s it, touch me there. But he keeps going, despite my obvious arousal, and a voice in the back of my head is screaming at him to return. I sigh and close my eyes. I need to focus, get back some control here, because right now I’m completely at his mercy and that can’t be a good thing.
Oh Jesus!
His mouth closes on my nipple, his tongue moist against it, his lips gentle on my burning flesh and I can think of nothing else. Every other brain function has shut down. My sole focus is now on getting some. I must have him between my thighs, riding me to nirvana. Open up my thighs and let him take me to pleasure central, but the touch of his lips right there is something else. Savour the feeling, I tell myself; soak it up and stop fighting the numbness. Let it seep into every pore and in turn let this feeling lift you up and float you far, far away.
