by Liz Adams
“Now I need you to tell me this. What was one of the worst things that happened to you? Something that you’d say defines you for who you are now.”
He waited patiently for her answer. He could tell she was trying to think of something from her past, and his caresses probably didn’t help too much. As she worked to think of what to say, she moaned. “Coffee ice cream.” she said at last.
“Coffee ice cream?”
She exhaled. “I lived in an apartment next to a married couple. The first time I heard the woman being beaten, I was eating coffee ice cream in my kitchen. I told myself I needed to stop it, but I didn’t have the nerve. The longer I heard the screams, the worse the taste of the ice cream got. I haven’t been able to eat any since without remembering that day.”
“But it defined you?”
“Since then, I go out of my way to make sure someone is okay if I hear a scream or yell. I think the horrible memory has made me a braver person.”
“And how are you feeling now?”
She clutched at his hand and took a deep breath. “Good.”
“The next time you have ice cream, make this the moment you remember. Remember how good it feels. You’re brave, and strong now. Safe and in control.”
She nodded.
Jonathan had to make sure she believed it. He squeezed her hand. “Okay?”
She squeezed it back. “Okay.”
Five minutes left. “Now I need you to place your hand here.” He stood facing her profile, and put her hand under his shirt over his abs. “And I want you to mirror my hand.” He returned his hand under her shirt over her belly button and moved it around in a slow circle. “Do as I do.”
He felt her hand caress his abs.
He reached higher, both hands grazing her nipples. Her hand reached up to his pecs. Her tentative touches felt good against his skin. He noticed his quick breathing matched her own.
How far will I go? How far will she go? We are together, now. Wondering how bold I can be, wondering how brave she can remain.
Other than Alina’s friends, there was no one in the aisle. Occasionally, some travelers rushed through the nearby breezeway to get to their airline or to security, but those travelers couldn’t really see the sexual caresses Jonathan and Alina shared at the airport.
He slid his hand down to her ribs.
She touched his ribs, making them tingle.
He went further, to her stomach.
She caressed his own.
He dipped his hand inside her panties and stroked her curls.
Her hand was on his pelvis, her knuckles against his aching dick.
He cupped her. Her jaw dropped.
She grabbed him in her fist. He growled.
“I think you need some help,” Saskia said to Alina. She unbuttoned Alina’s jeans and unzipped her fly. My fingers had better access. Saskia went back to Claire’s side, grinning as though she had just played the best prank ever.
“Me too,” Jonathan said.
Saskia hesitated, but then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans keeping her arms extended as if she were opening a jack in the box. In a way, she was.
Keeping a hand on Alina’s breast, he used his other hand to explore down her pants, discover her heat, her moisture, her desire. One deep finger revealed her wet pleasure. She moaned and gripped him hard. It felt so good, he wanted to thrust in her hand. If he did, would she pull away? He decided to use all the restraint he had to avoid pumping into her hand.
One minute left. He moved close to her ear and whispered something he hadn’t ever told anyone, “That woman I mentioned earlier? The one I broke up with? She didn’t believe in me the way you believed in Greg.”
Jonathan circled her clit. She closed her eyes and began to stroke him. Man, how his prick needed that!
“She didn’t support my dream of becoming a writer the way you supported Greg’s dream of being an artist.”
Her breathing became shallow. Her hand up and down his length had him tensing. His chest felt tight. He had trouble breathing evenly.
He grasped for air to continue to whisper. “She didn’t seek to help me succeed.”
Alina rolled her fingers along his shaft, gripping him tightly just the way he liked it. “I would.”
His heart broke wide open. He thrust two fingers inside her. That made her moan. She shook him, her arm making quick, jerking motions. She looked into his eyes. “Please.”
Jonathan kissed her, stifling her cry as her body shook upon his fingers. He couldn’t hold back any longer and thrust into her palm, his boxers filling with cum.
He felt himself shiver from leftover spasms. Her pussy throbbed around his fingers. He was out of breath. She leaned into his chest and panted. He pulled her into a hug. She finally looked up at him. They kissed lightly once, twice, three times.
Where are we?
Oh, yeah.
At an airport.
An airport?!
Jonathan had completely forgotten about our audience of two. Alina’s friends burst out laughing. His ears burned and his sideburns itched. Alina looked the color he was feeling. He zipped up and so did she.
He hated her friends at that moment. They were laughing at what was probably the most amazing time of his life.
“Ignore them,” he said to Alina. “I want to stay in touch. Give me your contact info.”
“Only if I can get yours.” She bit her lip.
He pulled out the pen and notepad he kept in his pants pocket for writing ideas. She wrote in neat block letters her name, address, email, and phone number. Getting Alina’s address made his notepad much more valuable to him.
She tapped her phone number on the page. “Call me, maybe?”
“Definitely.” He carefully wrote his information down in the notepad. “You should pursue graphic design, if that’s what you love doing. Okay?”
She nodded.
He ripped out the page and gave it to her. “I’ll write you soon. I’m good at writing.”
“Jonathan Colfax,” she said reading the page. “Did I pass the test for your assignment?”
“Uh....” He had trouble coming up with a smart response. He was still too much in the clouds of his orgasm to think. She laughed, tears of joy in her eyes.
Jonathan kissed her again. Deeply this time. Tasting her delicate lips and never wanting to leave them. She then hugged him fierce, her head against his shoulder, her arms locked tight. He felt the fabric of his shirt at the shoulder dampen. When he pulled back to look at her, he asked, “Are you okay?”
She wiped the tears from her eyes and laughed through her sniffles. She said, “I’ll be fine.”
He wished her a safe trip and walked away, looking back a few times to see her clutching to her friends as she turned her head occasionally to watch him leave. The attendants arrived and prepared their computers to start checking in Alina and her friends.
Jonathan noticed the decision was an easy one. He could mail his rent check to the manager, and his written final report to his Psychology teacher. He had time enough to go home, get ready, and return within two hours. The perfect opportunity to do research for his story. It was just a matter of finding the right ticket counter.
Jonathan felt as though he were seizing the day, shedding his old skin, setting like the sun, and burning into a phoenix with a world of new colors waiting for him. He handed his credit card to the attendant. “When’s the next flight to Amsterdam?”
END
A Personal Message from the Author
Thank you for reading my sensual short story, Alina Said, “Call Me, Maybe.” I found writing this to be a challenge because this was the first story I’ve written completely from a man’s point of view. Still, I had a delicious time at my typewriter giving life to this fantasy of mine to share it with you. I would love to know what fantasy or fairy tale you would like to see me write. If you come up with one, please send me a note on Facebook. In the meantime, what did you think of my story? If you liked it, plea
se write me a review on Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/Call-Me-Maybe-Groping-ebook/dp/B00BB16MYU/ or on Goodreads, and share the title with your friends. Great reviews really put a spring in my step and a tingle across my skin.
Thanks for reading,
Liz Adams
About the Author
Liz Adams, author of the erotic fairy tale Alice’s Sexual Discovery in a Wonderful Land, lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, CA. Her short story Amy “Red” Riding’s Hood, an erotic version of Red Riding Hood, is an Amazon bestseller and winner of Goodreads’ Book of the Month for October 2012. Liz studied music and creative writing at UCLA and worked as a freelance model before making her writing her career. In her spare time she cuddles with her husband on the couch to watch her favorite shows and often they work together doing research for her books. Feel free to contact Liz through Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/Liz.Adams.Author.
If you enjoyed Call Me, Maybe: Sexual Caresses at an Airport, please write a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Also, Liz would love to know how you heard about her ebook, so drop her a line at [email protected] or at her website www.LizAdamsAuthor.com.
Excerpt from Alice’s Sexual Discovery
in a Wonderful Land
“Look at us,” Rabbit complained. “We are all wet. How shall we get dry?”
“Let’s run a race!” suggested another man. So the men all started running around without any clear indication of where the race began or where the race ended.
To Alice the men looked like idiots running around randomly as if it would help them dry off. Watching their cocks bob up and down as they ran entertained her. Many of the penises were small bouncy things, but there were a few of the men, Rabbit included, who had actual phalluses. Long, thick trunks flopping out in front of their hips.
The men ran for what seemed like a good fifteen minutes, trying to get ahead of one another and turning at random points. Alice giggled and got to get a good look at their bottoms, too. Many men had big, flabby bums, but a few of the men were blessed with firm ones, like Rabbit.
Alice gathered up her dress and wrung it out. The warm sun in that strange pink sky would have to do the rest. She sat on a large rock that was probably just a small stone. But now that Alice had shrunk to a tiny size, everything seemed huge. Although that didn’t explain the strange colors of this wonderland.
After five more minutes of running, the men stopped and doubled over to catch their breath. Alice watched their buff chests inflate and deflate, their tanned skin shiny with sweat.
Through deep breaths, one of the men managed to say, “I’m…still…wet.”
“Me…too,” another said catching his breath.
“Let’s jump back into the lake to return all the moisture to it.” Rabbit didn’t seem to be out of breath at all.
Alice laughed out loud.
“What’s so funny?” Rabbit asked.
“Look at dee men,” Alice said using her best Spanish accent. “Dey put ‘dee men’ back in ‘dementia.’ ”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Alice said smiling. “It’s a great idea. Have at it. You can make another race of it.” It looked like they needed direction.
So the men jumped back in and swam all around the lake in random directions, trying to outdo each other.
A man with a buff chest and grey ponytail climbed out first. The other men followed. Alice took a mental picture of these nude men, everything hanging out. Yum! She called out to them, “So who won?”
“What?” one of them asked.
“Who won the race?”
“We all did,” another said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The others nodded their heads.
“What did you win?” Alice asked amused.
One of the men rolled his eyes like it was another stupid question and said, “Prizes.”
“And who’s giving you your prizes?” Alice chuckled. She had to admit, having a conversation with a crowd of clueless naked men was a blast. Just wait until she told Lois about this!
This time, the men looked at each other as though searching for the answer.
“We need to find the box of prizes,” the man with the grey ponytail finally said.
Then Rabbit pointed straight at Alice and said, “She has a box of prizes!”
“What?” Then Alice realized what Rabbit was talking about. Alice held up her hands to stop them. “Now just one minute! I don’t have any prizes.”
“But you have a box, right?” Rabbit said.
“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking.”
“Let me take a look.” The grey ponytailed elder approached Alice.
“Wait!” Alice stopped the elder in his tracks. The grizzled man stood still as if waiting for Alice to change her mind. She knew they wouldn’t be satisfied until someone made sure her “box” was empty. And after that bout with Rabbit’s exploring hands, the tingling in her body actually enjoyed the prospect of satisfying their curiosity. “Not you,” Alice said to the elder and turned to Rabbit. “Him.”
Rabbit strode up to Alice.
Again Alice said, “Wait!” She turned around on the rock so that her back was to everyone and no one could see. “Okay.”
Rabbit went to the other side of the rock. “It’s here,” Rabbit said pulling up Alice’s dress. “Between her legs.” He pushed aside her panties and his face filled with wonder. It must have been the first time he saw a woman there. He looked so cute, Alice couldn’t resist stroking his blond hair.
She felt Rabbit’s finger gently touch her. That finger was so ginger and delicate. She looked behind her at the crowd of men around her. None of them were hard. This wasn’t arousing to them? Rabbit seemed fascinated but that hardly meant she excited him as much as she excited the hanged man.
Rabbit licked his finger as if to test the taste. He then dipped it back into her. That finger woke up every inch of her body. Her muscles tensed. He stroked Alice’s inner walls seeking his prize. How long would he search until he realized there was no prize to be found?
She relaxed a little, and found the finger to be soothing. Keep searching, you gorgeous man.
Rabbit withdrew his finger. Alice sighed wanting more.
“I can’t find anything,” Rabbit said.
“Let me try.” One of the men appeared from behind Rabbit.
Before Alice could protest – did she really want to? – the man slipped a finger inside her, probing with a delicate touch. She leaned back on her hands and let her head fall to the side to see the gorgeous muscle men surrounding her. What if they all took turns fingering her? Her heart pounded at the thought. Lord, his single finger was no longer enough. She moved her hips up to meet his hand. Thankfully, he put in another finger. The two fingers wiggled inside her. Alice let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding in.
“Anything?” one observing man asked. He had the biggest biceps Alice had ever seen.
“Nothing,” the fingerer said. He let his head get closer between her thighs. Alice could feel his breaths tickle her. Did he like what he saw? He stroked the outer lips now. Alice found herself thrusting her hips, seeking fingers.
“Please,” she said. But felt uncomfortable requesting anything further.
“Hold on a second,” the man said. “There’s another hole here.”
Alice felt a finger wiggle up her bottom. Whoa! Why did that feel good? But the finger immediately came out.
“It’s dry,” the man said.
“Hang on,” the one with the bulging biceps said. “I have an idea.”
Biceps sucked on his thick finger, crouched down between Alice’s legs and said, “I’ll place one finger here.”
She felt a huge, wet finger enter her rear.
“And my thumb here.”
She felt his thick thumb enter her pussy. That was a trick Alice had never even tried on herself! The finger and thumb were attempting to touch each other, pressing along her inner walls. Alice moaned and clenched ar
ound his fingers.
Biceps pulled out his digits and said, “Nothing.”
Still, though, he lingered at her entrance, stroking the lips with his fingers. He stuck one finger inside her. Then two. The huge man went on with three substantial fingers. Alice felt herself open up to him, the fingers wiggling mmm inside her. He pulled the fingers out and Alice sighed. She wanted more. She looked at his soft face. He was holding his fingers, slick with her juices, up to his nose. Then he tasted her on his fingers.
“That’s it!” Biceps cried. “That’s the prize!”
“What?” the other men asked. “What’s the prize?”
“Her box holds an elixir!” Biceps declared and stuffed his tongue inside her, tasting her, drinking her.
“Oooh,” Alice said.
“Let me taste,” another man said. He took over the job, coating her with strokes of his tongue.
Sparks zinged through her body. If this is what oral sex was like, how could a cock be any better? Alice moaned again. His tongue penetrated deeper than the other man’s tongue had, but still she wanted more. More fingers, more tongues, kisses, caresses. Don’t just worship my wetness. Worship all of me!
Why were they making her juices so sacred? And then a thought made her laugh.
The man tasting her stopped and asked, “What are you laughing about?”
“You were swimming in it,” Alice managed to say through her giggles.
The man ignored her and returned to lapping up her juices.
Maybe this time, Alice thought to herself, her eyes closed. Maybe this time I’ll orgasm.
One by one, each of the men stepped forward to taste Alice, lick her with their tongues, snake them inside her and wipe her cleft with them, sucking, drinking, slurping. She wriggled with delight.
