by J. J. Murray
Lauren buried her head in the pillow. “But it’s Sunday.” She felt Patrick sit on the edge of the bed.
“And I’ve been gone for four days. Luckily, these aren’t real emergencies.”
She heard him close his phone.
“I’d be crazy to leave you now.”
“Yes, you would,” Lauren said, and she pulled him under the covers. She ground her pubis into his thighs. “You got pretty crazy last night.”
Patrick took her hands and placed them on his chest. “You bring out the crazy in me.”
“I like crazy you inside of me,” Lauren said, thrusting harder against him. “I can see why you like doing this to me.”
He rolled over to face her. “You wore out my thrusters.”
She rubbed her nose on his. “Do you think we made a baby?”
“We should have made quintuplets,” Patrick said.
“Let’s make sure,” Lauren said. She climbed over his body, got out of bed, and went to the window. “I don’t see anyone.” She lifted the shade completely. “They’re gone.” She leaned onto the window, her nipples growing as she rubbed them on the icy glass. “Do me here.” She closed her eyes.
She heard him get out of bed. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” Lauren said. She reached back and pulled her cheeks apart. “Do me hard.”
She felt Patrick’s penis move into her slowly until it filled her. She felt his large hands pulling on her hips. She felt ecstasy as he pumped himself into her, the window rattling and her breasts flattening on the glass as he did. She opened her eyes and saw a man walking his dog in the snow.
“Patrick?” she wheezed.
“Yes?”
“We have an audience.”
Patrick froze.
“Don’t stop,” Lauren whispered, letting go of her cheeks and pulling him deeper. “It’s only a man walking his dog. I don’t think he can see us. Don’t stop. Please. I’m so close.”
She felt him grow even bigger, felt his sweat dripping onto her back, felt her legs weaken, felt the sting of his hands slapping her booty repeatedly, and when she came, she howled.
The dog lifted its head.
The man turned.
Lauren yanked down the shade. “That was close!”
Patrick seemed to throw his entire body inside her, and as he came, he lifted her off the floor and moved her to the bed, furiously pumping her while she braced herself against the wall.
As Patrick pulled out of her, Lauren collapsed onto the bed. “I am so out of shape,” she said.
Patrick fell beside her. “I wish I had more windows.”
Lauren smiled in the darkness. “I wish I had more stamina.” She found one of his hands and put it on her chest. “I’m nearly hyperventilating, man.” She slowed her breathing. “I have to know something.”
“Just ask.”
“Can you come before I do?” Lauren asked.
“I’m sure I can,” Patrick said. “It’s much more meaningful to me to come with you or just after you do.”
“Meaningful,” he says. This isn’t just sex to him. Or to me. “The dog heard me howling.”
“I doubt my neighbors did,” Patrick said. “There are no early risers in this building. They’re mostly older people.” He pulled the covers over them. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“When I came just then, I had the worst cramps in the bottoms of my feet,” Patrick said.
“Oh, I hate those,” Lauren said.
“But as soon as I came, the cramps went away,” Patrick said. “When I cramp up while I’m working, they don’t normally go away until I take off my boots and stretch out my toes.” He kissed her neck. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Lauren said. “Do you relax immediately after you come?”
“Yes,” Patrick said. “Well, almost immediately.”
“Do you get cramps in your feet often?” she asked.
“During the summer, yes,” Patrick said. “And now I know the cure.”
“I hope you get cramps often then,” Lauren said. The glow of the sun began to light up the window shade. “Is this what a sunrise looks like?”
“Yes,” Patrick said.
“I don’t like it,” Lauren said. “We need to catch up on our sleep.”
“I agree,” Patrick said.
She turned to face him. “I want to establish a rule. The first person who wakes up has to wake up the other person using only their tongue.”
“I like this rule very much,” Patrick whispered.
“I hope you fall asleep first so you can wake up first,” Lauren whispered.
“So do I. . . .”
Six hours later, at a few minutes before one, Lauren left Patrick snoring softly and went to the kitchen. She drank several glasses of water, ate two slices of American cheese on some saltines she found in the cupboard, and brushed her teeth.
She returned to the bed. Do I wake him? I just made the rule. But he looks so tired. I’ll let him sleep....
Lauren dreamed she was being serviced sexually by several men, each man’s tongue working a different part of her body. Two men worked on her breasts, another licked her booty, and one man with dark eyes was greedily tasting her—
“Damn!” Lauren shouted as she came and awoke at the same time.
Patrick’s head popped out from beneath the covers. “Were you really asleep?”
“Yes,” Lauren said, kissing him greedily. “I was dreaming, and the orgasm woke me up.”
“Cool,” Patrick said. “What were you dreaming about?”
I can’t tell him three other men were licking on me, Lauren thought.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Patrick said. “It was good, though, right?”
Lauren nodded. “Not as good as the real thing.” She guided him inside her. “Please be gentle. I am so sore.”
“I’ll try to be gentle,” Patrick said.
Lauren put her hands over her head and watched Patrick move in and out of her with a slow, easy rhythm. “All right, I’ll tell you,” she whispered. “I was in bed with four men working on me.”
“That was some dream.”
“You’re not mad?” Lauren asked.
Patrick shook his head. “I have never had a woman tell me any of her dreams. This is so instructive. Do you have dreams like these often?”
Lauren shook her head. “No. You’re making me dream.” That’s what he’s doing. He’s making me dream again. “Do you have dreams like that?”
“About men licking me? No.” Patrick smiled and continued to pump her.
“I am so glad about that,” Lauren said. “What is the most erotic dream you’ve ever had?”
Patrick squinted. “Do you really want to know? It happened a long time ago.”
“I want to know,” Lauren said.
Patrick stopped pumping. “I had just seen Feel the Love. That night, I had an incredible dream involving you and—”
“Me?” Lauren interrupted. “I’m flattered. And who else?”
“I’d rather not say,” Patrick said.
She rocked him until she was on top of him. “Who else?”
“Nia Long and Sally Richardson,” Patrick said.
At least he has great taste. Those two women are gorgeous. “And what were we doing to you?”
“Oh, only you were doing something to me,” Patrick said. “You were on top of me, and the other two were . . .”
Lauren started to grind. “What were they doing?”
“It’s kind of funny, actually,” Patrick said. “They were giving us directions. Put your hand here, bend your leg this way, lean back. They even told us what to say.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Patrick raised his eyebrows. “It was . . . hot.”
“They were both naked, weren’t they?” Lauren asked.
“No,” Patrick said. “They were fully dressed in lab coats, and they were checking off things on a
clipboard.”
“Right,” Lauren said. “Fully dressed.”
“Well, they weren’t wearing anything underneath,” Patrick said.
“See-through lab coats, huh?”
“Kind of,” Patrick said. “You didn’t even seem to notice them.”
Lauren flattened herself on him, grinding faster. “But you did.”
“Yes, but in the end,” Patrick whispered, “I only saw you. But I woke up before I could finish.” He sat up and pressed down on Lauren’s hips. “I am finishing that dream right now. . . .”
Patrick finished his dream.
I am finished, Lauren thought. No more, no more . . . until tomorrow.
“Nia Long and Sally Richardson, huh?” Lauren said hours later after yet another nap.
“Yes,” Patrick said.
“Do you still have fantasies about them?” Lauren asked.
“No,” Patrick said.
“What did you like about them?” Lauren asked.
“I liked their smiles,” Patrick said.
Lauren pinched his arm. “Is that all?”
“Yes,” Patrick said. “They had and they still have incredible smiles. Not as nice as yours, of course.”
“Those two women are hot, Patrick,” Lauren said. “And all you looked at was their smiles?”
“Yes,” Patrick said.
“I’m sure you looked at other parts,” Lauren said.
“No, just their smiles,” Patrick said. “I always equate a nice smile with a nice person, and I hear they’re both very nice people.”
“They are,” Lauren said. “I’ve met them both, and they are genuinely wonderful people first and outstanding actresses second. You have good taste in your dreams.”
“And in real life, too,” Patrick said. “I’d like to taste you again.”
Lauren dropped her head back onto the pillow. “You have completely worn me out. Aren’t you worn out?”
“A little,” Patrick said.
“Liar,” Lauren said.
“Feel me,” Patrick whispered.
Lauren’s hands moved down his body and found an erect penis. “No way. But why?”
“I’m in bed with my dream girl,” Patrick said. “You’ll just have to get used to it.”
“I am really, really sore, Patrick,” Lauren said. “And we both need our sleep.”
“I know,” Patrick said. “I just wanted you to know that I’m aroused by you whenever you’re near me.”
She kissed him passionately. “That’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.” She stroked him gently. “When will it go away?”
“I’ll probably wake up with it,” Patrick said. “I’ll try not to poke you while you sleep.”
“Do I really excite you that much?”
“Yes.” He pulled her hands up to his chest. “Sweet dreams.”
“Have I told you I love you today?” Lauren asked.
“No,” Patrick said.
“I love you, Patrick,” Lauren said.
“I love you, too, Lauren,” Patrick said. “Now sleep and dream of me. . . .”
Buzzing woke Lauren again the next morning.
It’s Monday, she thought, and it’s still dark. Is darkness thicker in Brooklyn or what? She felt the bed beside her and didn’t find a chiseled, hot body. “Patrick?”
“Over here,” Patrick said. He used the glow of his cell phone to illuminate his face. “Good morning.”
“What are you doing?”
“I have to go to work,” he said. He waved the phone over his body.
He’s already dressed in coveralls! How didn’t I wake up?
“I have to take care of some actual emergencies,” he said. “Would you like to go with me?”
No. “You’ll come back for lunch, right?”
“I probably won’t be anywhere near here at lunchtime,” Patrick said.
I don’t want to be alone! “What would I have to do?”
“Only what you wanted to do,” Patrick said. “But you are very welcome to stay here and keep warm. It’s in the mid-twenties and windy outside, and the snow is at least a foot deep with snowdrifts pushing two feet. I will do my best to hurry back to you.”
I left mid-seventies only a few days ago. “Will you teach me how to be a handywoman?”
“I could, I guess,” Patrick said. “But it’s going to be a long, cold day. Please stay here and rest.”
I can’t let this man out of my sight. “Will I get to hold your tools?”
“Yes.” Patrick sighed. “I, um, I have to go get them first.”
“Where are they?” Lauren asked.
“At Gem Pawnbrokers,” Patrick said. “I used them as collateral for your ring.”
He did what? “Turn on the light.”
Patrick turned on the overhead light.
“You did what?” she asked.
Patrick looked at the floor. “I left my tools at the pawnshop as collateral for your ring. I’m not sure when they open or even if they’ll open today because of the snow. I’m hoping they’ll be open by nine.”
Lauren looked at her ring. “You pawned your tools . . . for this ring.”
“Sort of,” Patrick said.
Lauren wrapped the covers around her and scooted to the edge of the bed. “You gambled your livelihood . . . for me? What if I didn’t accept your proposal?”
“I’d be returning the ring today and trying to get some of my money back,” Patrick said. “And my tools.” Patrick smiled. “I know, it was a crazy thing to do.”
Lauren’s eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t crazy. It was love. You’d do anything for me.”
“I would.”
Lauren stood up, let the covers fall off her shoulders, and buried her face in his chest. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you.” He lifted her chin. “Aren’t you cold?” Lauren nodded. “I need a shower.”
“You can get back into bed,” Patrick said. “I promise to work quickly today.”
Lauren shook her head. “I’m going with you. Did you already take a shower?”
Patrick nodded. “But you don’t have to go.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” She went into the kitchen, opened a suitcase, and took out a pair of panties and a bra.
“You were sleeping so peacefully,” Patrick said. “And really, I want you to stay here.”
“From now on, we shower together,” Lauren said.
“That’s rule number two.”
“An excellent rule.”
Lauren went into the bathroom. “Hey,” she said. “You broke rule number one.”
“I tried,” Patrick said, “but you were completely unconscious, and my tongue got tired.”
No way! She stuck her head outside the bathroom. “You were down there, and I didn’t respond?”
“No,” Patrick said. “Well, you made little cooing sounds.”
I must be more exhausted than I thought. “Well, thanks for trying. And find me something to wear.”
After a shower, Lauren found a set of brown coveralls, one-piece red long johns, a Brooklyn Dodgers hat, a pair of red wool socks, and a pair of white tube socks lying on the bathroom sink.
She put on her panties and bra and stepped into the long johns. I look like a baggy brown Santa. She slipped on the two pairs of socks and had to jump several times before the legs of the coveralls rode up her shins. After adjusting the straps and rolling up the cuffs, she stuffed her hair up under the hat.
“Ready?” Patrick said. He threw her a black down vest and a pair of brown leather work gloves.
“How do I look?” Lauren asked.
“You look . . .”
“I’m going for cute here,” Lauren said. She turned to the side and stuck out her booty. There was no change in the view because of the baggy coveralls.
“You’re still too sexy,” Patrick said.
Lauren pouted.
“And cute,” Patrick said. “Definitely cute.”
>
She put on the vest and slapped the gloves on her thigh. “I am ready.”
Patrick handed her a Pop-Tart. “I hope you like brown sugar cinnamon.”
“Is this our daily breakfast?” she asked before biting the Pop-Tart nearly in half.
“We’ll get coffee on the way,” Patrick said. “You know, you don’t have to go.”
“Yes I do,” Lauren said.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Lauren said. “Let’s go to work.” She put on her gloves and took his hand. “Let’s go get the tools that got me my ring.”
54
“There she is!”
“Wait a minute. Is that really her?”
“Lauren? Is that really you?”
“She’s trying to get past us in a disguise!”
Lauren waved at about a dozen paparazzi from the top of the outside stairs. The paparazzi rushed to the bottom of the stairs and took pictures.
Thousands of them.
Patrick looked at Lauren.
Lauren shrugged and smiled.
Patrick growled.
Lauren kissed him.
Patrick smiled and led Lauren through the crowd.
“Where are you going?” someone asked.
“To work,” Patrick said. “Something you should try to do.”
A man scampered beside them as they walked down State Street. “This is our job.”
“You harass people for a living,” Patrick said. “That’s not a job. It’s a crime.”
“I report on celebrities for a living,” the man said.
“I’m not a celebrity,” Patrick said.
“But she is,” the man said.
Patrick quickened their pace as they went around the block to an Atlas ATM on Schermerhorn. He took out two hundred dollars.
Two paparazzi caught up to them. “What’s the money for?” one of them asked.
Patrick sighed, shook his head, and led Lauren up the block to the Little Sweet Café at the corner of Hoyt and State. They entered the café, and as they made their way to the counter, they passed classic Boos butcher-block tables. The man behind the counter smiled while a pale young woman with turquoise-streaked hair struggled to write the day’s menu on a chalkboard.
“I’m glad you’re open, Freddy,” Patrick said.
“I’m glad you’re here, Patrick,” Freddy said. He smiled broadly. “And you brought Lauren Short. I heard you were in the neighborhood. Welcome.”
