My Guys

by Tanya Chris

  “Where’s your bike?” I asked.

  “It’s in the workshop. I’ll pick it up tomorrow. Where’s your car?”

  “Way over there.” I pointed to a blue Maxima halfway across the parking lot.

  “I suppose I could do something gallant like offer to go get it.”

  “It being my car, I suppose I should be the hero,” I countered.

  “Then I guess we’re in it together.” He dropped my hand and broke for the car in a run.

  I jumped to follow him. The rain was steady but not hard or cold. It made me want to laugh, running across the dark wet pavement, splashing through puddles and feeling the fat raindrops land cool in my hair.

  “Well, that woke me up,” Nate said once we were both buckled in.

  I started the car. “You’ll have to tell me where I’m going. Or easier if you tell the lady.” I handed him my GPS and he programmed an address into it.

  “Please proceed to highlighted route,” the lady said.

  “Left out of the parking lot,” Nate clarified. We drove in a silence broken only by the lady’s commands.

  “Is that why you needed me?” I asked, voicing the nagging disappointment in my head. “To drive you home?”

  “No, I was attention-seeking. I expected to ride home.”

  “In the rain?”

  “The rain was unexpected, but convenient.”

  “Convenient?”

  “I’m still attention-seeking.” He flashed a quick grin.

  “Arriving at destination,” the lady interrupted. “On right.”

  I pulled over and put the car in park.

  “Well.” My hands were wet with rain or sweat. I rubbed them against my pants.

  Nate took off his seatbelt, but he didn’t open the door. I turned towards him and he smiled like that was what he’d been waiting for. He stroked his hand through my damp hair to the back of my neck, pulling me gently closer to him as he leaned slowly into me.

  Good God, he’s going to kiss me, I thought, rather obviously, right before he did.

  His lips touched mine and held briefly before pulling slowly away. I wanted to lick my lips to capture the taste of him, but he pressed forward again. This time his lips clung longer, moving against mine before sliding away. My hands crept into his hair to pull him closer.

  Again his lips moved against mine, using more pressure. I opened my mouth to him, but he didn’t take it. Instead he skimmed his way to my chin, tilting my head up to brush his lips beneath it. I took a deep breath. This was not the way I’d been kissed before.

  Returning to my mouth, he started those slow, lightly-suctioned, half-open kisses again. Through the haze that had me paralyzed, I returned like for like. Our mouths were making love to each other—lips grasping, stroking, clinging, a single kiss holding for endless moments and then another following, a subtle shift of position, a new angle, a new spot. My head was light and empty, no room for thought as I matched him, mirrored him, absorbed him.

  “Lissie.” He groaned in frustration, leaning his forehead against mine.

  I tilted my head up and our lips met again.

  “Lissie.” He shook his head from side to side so that our foreheads rolled against each other, making me laugh. He laughed too and let me go, leaning back against his door, putting space between us. We looked at each other across the streetlamp-lit car. The windows were fogged on the inside, runnels of rain streaking the outside.

  “Flashback,” I said. “I haven’t steamed up car windows in a long time.”

  “Good memories?”

  “They are now. At the time, it all seemed very serious.”

  “Protecting your virginity.”

  “Don’t laugh. We still had that concept when I was a teenager.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seventeen and in the back of a car.”

  Nate looked at the backseat.

  “I think they made cars bigger then,” I said, laughing at his expression. “Or we were just really determined.”

  “Come be determined with me.” He reached over and took my hand.

  “I’m not having sex with you in the back of the car, Nate.”

  “Not unless you want to.”

  I shook my head because it was easier to lie that way.

  “Well, maybe that’s a relief. I’m not sure I could manage it. I think the lucky guy must have been shorter than I am.”

  “Much.”

  “Still, we can re-create the scene of the crime.” With surprisingly little effort, he wiggled into the backseat, then reached forward to drag me through after him. I giggled, squirming my way much less gracefully through the narrow opening and into his arms.

  “Much better,” he said, sighing.

  Now the kisses were deeper. His tongue wandered into my mouth, though never very deep or for very long before he tore his lips from mine with that gentle, pulling suction I was coming to crave.

  One arm was around my shoulders keeping me firmly against him. The other hand ran everywhere along my body—now trailing under my chin, now sliding down my thigh, now stroking the skin of my lower back beneath my shirt.

  My hands were on his face. I felt like I should be doing something that contributed more to our mutual endeavor but I couldn’t let go of his face, couldn’t allow him to stop kissing me in that way that made my head so deliciously light and empty.

  He sat up, taking me with him, propping me up as I swayed towards him until I could support myself. Not rushing, not taking his eyes from mine, he undid the buttons on my shirt and pushed it off my shoulders. When I left it like that, my arms pinned awkwardly against my body, he laughed.

  “Are you really so stupefied?”

  “I think I am.” I considered shrugging the shirt back on, but his eyes were irresistible. I wanted those eyes to be looking at me. I worked the shirt down my arms and dropped it on the floor.

  Just as slowly as he had before, he reached a hand behind me and popped the clasp on my bra. This time I knew that he was waiting for me, waiting for me to agree to this undressing. I pulled the bra free and dropped it on top of my shirt.

  His right hand lifted to my breast, fingers curling along the underside, thumb brushing across my nipple. With my eyes closed, I wasn’t expecting the wet tongue that circled my nipple. He turned me, lowering me to the seat beneath him. Pressing me back against it, he addressed himself rather seriously to my nipples, alternating between them until my breathing filled the car. Again I felt like I should be doing something, something more than lying there.

  “Nate,” I said.

  He came to me, sliding his body up along mine until our heads were level and then Oh, God, his erection scraped hard against my pubic bone. My hands dug into his shoulders and a sound, something like a whimper, escaped me.

  Nate froze. He lifted his weight from me. For a moment, no one moved. Then, deliberately, he slid his erection along my pubic bone again. This time the sound I made was more than a whimper.

  Nate collapsed on top of me. “God, Lissie,” he said into my ear. He ground himself against me, forcing a gasping moan from me. His hands moved to the waistband of my pants and started tugging. I wanted this so bad. In a car. On a public street. With a twenty-five year old. Who was still fully dressed, for God’s sake. I hadn’t even taken his shirt off.

  “No, Nate. No. Wait. No.”

  I was telling myself no. He’d stopped with the first one. He moved off of me. With his body no longer dissolving mine into senselessness, I was able to pull myself away. I sat up, still shaking my head no.

  “Shhh, Lissie. It’s OK.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” He pulled me down towards him but backwards, so that his arm was around me and my head rested against his shoulder.

  We lay quietly together, looking up at the roof of the car as though we could see through it to the night beyond. The rain pattered cozily, the steamy windows screened us. He kissed the top of my head.

/>   “Why the freak out?”

  “I don’t want to have sex with you in the back of this car. I don’t want to have sex with you at all.” Feeling defensive, I sat up, the hysteria bubbling up again. “I barely know you. You’re more than ten years younger than I am. I haven’t had sex with anyone except my husband since I was your age. There are diseases and rules and ...” I ran out of steam.

  “You don’t want to have sex with me at all?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was doubtful or wounded.

  “OK, that was a lie. Every nerve in my body wants to have sex with you this very minute, in this car, or in a box with a fox, or wherever we happen to be.”

  “But you don’t want to want to.”

  I nodded.

  “OK, so we won’t. New rule—the pants stay on.” He didn’t sound the least bit concerned.

  “You’re not mad? Or disappointed? Or something?”

  “I’m horny as hell, if that counts as ‘something,’ but horny is a good thing, never a bad thing. Now come back down here and make me horny some more.”

  I stretched my body on top of his, or at least as much as I could in our cramped quarters. Determined this time to participate, I nuzzled my nose against his neck.

  “Mmm”

  “Do you like to be kissed there?” I asked.

  “I like to be kissed everywhere.”

  “I’ll start here.” I tried to mimic what he’d done to my mouth, and then to my nipples, on his neck—those slowly sensuous, worshipful movements that paralyzed my limbs and reason while accelerating my heart rate.

  “Mmm,” he said again, squirming beneath me. “Careful of leaving marks, though. I have to think of my adoring public.”

  I shifted to the other side, moving up under his ear.

  “That’s nice too,” he said casually, the tone belied by his cock pressing insistently up against me and his hands, a little too tight on my shoulders.

  I was trying to concentrate on what I was doing to him, not on what he was doing to me, and I was managing pretty well until he shifted his hands to my ass and used them to press my pelvis tightly against his.

  I moaned into the ear I’d been licking.

  “Best yet,” he said, rocking me against him so that I moaned again. Then he was pushing at my shoulders, pressing me away from him. I resisted, not wanting to lose contact, but he guided my legs so that I was kneeling across him, my pussy squarely straddling the hardest part of him.

  My clit throbbed towards him. I hadn’t been this turned on since perhaps the last time I’d made out in a car. I’d forgotten just how good dry humping felt. Not to the guy, perhaps, but—

  “Oh!”

  He’d taken my hips and pulled them forward and down, arching my pubic bone and clit along his cock in a move that left me breath enough for only that—saying oh.

  He did it again. A warm, pulsing throb of pleasure engulfed me. As the wave receded, he did it again. In the moment of time he gave me between strokes, I saw him—his face serious, his eyes open, watching me like I was the only thing in the world.

  He did it again. I was going to come if he kept it up.

  “Nate!”

  “Close your eyes, Lissie. Sweetheart. Close your eyes for me and let me.” His voice was the only soft part of him. His eyes steady, his cock hard, his hands firm. Even as he told me to close my eyes he rocked me forward again and the breath burst from me.

  I closed my eyes. I felt the rhythm as he repeated it and then I took it from him. My hips told his hands how to move me, and his hands obeyed.

  “Oh!” I said one last time as the orgasm erupted through me.

  He continued to drag me across him, eliciting aftershocks. Once, twice, three times—each fresh rush of pleasure announced by my whispering squeak—and then I fell against him, nothing left.

  His arms came around me and his cheek nuzzled mine. Softly, I wafted back to earth.

  “I have to go in,” he said when my breathing was something like normal.

  “But—”

  His erection still pressed against my groin.

  “We have a show tomorrow night and I’ve got some serious jerking off to do.” He sat us up and reached to the floor for my shirt.

  “But—” I said, taking it from him but making no move to put it on yet.

  “You’ll always be safe with me, Lissie. The pants stay on tonight.”

  “But­—”

  “I hope I haven’t permanently destroyed your ability to form coherent sentences, because I do like talking to you as well.”

  I shook my head. The humor helped. “I feel like I should do something for you,” I managed to get out finally.

  “Oh, you have. I’m going to have a seriously good wank tonight. In fact, I’m kind of eager to get to it.”

  I laughed. “Go then.” I waved my hand at the door.

  “You’re OK?”

  I nodded.

  He took my head between his hands and kissed me hard, opening his mouth fully and twisting his tongue rashly against mine. I could feel his desperation in the lack of finesse.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said as he disappeared into the night.

  I sat, still stunned, still naked from the waist up, and still horny. If he’d been there ... but he wasn’t. Taking a reassuring look at the steamy windows, I slid one hand into my pants and found my clit, swollen and slippery.

  With Nate’s eyes watching in my mind, I brought myself to a second orgasm, and then a third, before putting on my shirt, crawling into the front seat, and driving myself home.

  Chapter 5

  Nate came to find me the next evening, which was exactly what I needed him to do. I’d spent the day worrying about seeing him again, whether it would be awkward or he’d be regretful and distant. I hadn’t forgotten what Donna had told me—that it was only sex to him and not to expect hearts and flowers. Truth was, I had no idea what to expect. I hadn’t dated in more than fourteen years, and I wasn’t sure I could call this dating anyway.

  I was on stage, putting away the dishes that Nate would use to set the dining room table during the big family dinner scene, when he came in.

  “Hi.” He leaned in for a kiss. When I didn’t tilt my head up to him, he put a finger under my chin and did it for me.

  I glanced around nervously. I was still waiting for someone to care. Nate plunked himself down at the table and rested his head on his arms.

  “Tired?”

  “Exhausted. You weren’t so easy to get out of my head last night. It took a few tries.”

  “Sorry.”

  He leapt up and grabbed me around the waist from behind, swinging me in a circle while I squealed. I held tightly to the dinner plates I’d been transferring from dish pan to hutch.

  “Nate!”

  He put me down but turned me towards him, the plates pressed between us.

  “You’re not sorry,” he said. “Admit you’re not sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry,” I admitted. “Not even a little.” The idea of him masturbating to my memory was surprisingly erotic.

  “Good. I want to make you make that noise again.” He put his hands on my hips and pulled me in tighter, like he was thinking about doing it right that minute. Then he shook his head. “But not tonight or I’m never going to make it to the matinee tomorrow. And right now I’ve got to get into makeup.”

  He rubbed his nose against mine, then walked across the stage towards the green room. I watched him go, feeling like a teenager with a crush on the dreamiest boy at school.

  Finished with the dishes, I turned my attention to the groceries.

  “Food scenes are the worst,” Rebekah said as she handed me a bag of food to restock the on-stage refrigerator with.

  This was my first show, but I already agreed with her. Every night we had to load up the refrigerator with food and the china hutch with dishes, then after the show we washed the dishes, scrubbed the counters, and swept the floor. Never mind that the actors had to practically
prepare a Thanksgiving dinner on stage. Mary got the worst of it—peeling and chopping throughout the first act. Nate set the table in the first act, then cleared it in the second act. I just wished there was a dish washing scene.

  I could be doing this at home, I thought, considering the state of my own kitchen counters and how empty my refrigerator was. I didn’t cook anymore. My appetite had taken a nosedive the day Alex moved out. When I cooked, I made enough food for two people and only ate enough for half a one, so instead of cooking I foraged and pilfered and left trails of packaging and crumbs that lingered for days.

  On the plus side, those extra ten pounds I’d been forever swearing I was going to diet away had gone wherever my appetite went.

  I had a feeling Nate didn’t clear the table at his house any more often than I washed down the counters at mine. From the size of the place I’d dropped him off in front of, I figured he must live with his parents. And was probably spoiled rotten, just as a guess. He had the easy confidence of someone who’d never been told no in his entire life.

  The lights started doing odd things. I looked up at the light booth and waved to Deb who was doing her pre-show check. That meant the doors would be opening soon. I gave the set a final once-over, then went backstage to let Rebekah know we were ready.

  Once the house was open, there wasn’t much for me to do until the show started, so I let myself drift over to the makeup area where I knew Nate would be sitting shirtless at one of the well-lit tables. People had their routines backstage. At any given point in the evening, the same people would be sitting in the same places, often having the same conversations.

  My spot at this point in the evening was in an armchair tucked behind the door to the makeup room from which I could see the reflection of Nate’s reflection in the makeup mirror across from his. I took out my phone and pretended to be absorbed in it. Today I had a notification from CoupleMe. Someone was showing a flicker of interest.

  I pulled up his profile and wrinkled my nose at it. Grandchildren, for God’s sake. His primary hobby was his grandchildren. I looked over my phone into the mirror. Nate was doing his eyes, staring intently at himself as he applied mascara.