Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart

by Shirley Hailstock

  Once again, she looked him straight in the eyes. He supposed a woman couldn’t be too careful.

  “No, I’m not married. I’m not involved with anyone. And I’m healthy. I practice safe sex whenever I have sex, and I’m not into bondage or any kind of freaky acts depicted in romantic movies. I’m just a grown man who’s a little lonely and wants to make love to you because I suspect you’re lonely, too.”

  Her beautiful, full-lipped mouth twitched in a half smile. Her eyes smoldered. He must have said something she liked because she walked up to him and rose up on the tips of her toes and kissed him.

  He didn’t know what he had expected when his mouth finally covered hers, but this spark of electricity that shot through him when her body collided with his and her sweet mouth met his threw his equilibrium off. He felt lightheaded and his libido, already strong at this point, increased by leaps and bounds.

  Her arms went around his neck and he automatically grasped her about the waist. She felt firm, yet soft, and she smelled wonderful, as if she’d just gotten out of the tub. His hands came up her back and rested in her silky hair, and he was cognizant enough to want to put his hands on her scalp, just to see if that hair was real. He knew it was foolish, but he had to know. Sure enough, that was her scalp with no extensions protruding from it.

  She broke off the kiss when he did that and laughed. She was adorable when she laughed. He felt a tenderness toward her when she smirked and asked, “Satisfied?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Is there anything on me you’d like to authenticate?”

  “That’s a foolish question,” she said, and reached up to tug at his tie. “Shouldn’t you be getting out of that suit and into something more comfortable?”

  With that, she turned her back to him and walked farther into the apartment, as if she owned the place. She strode over to his wall of photos. He didn’t have anything connected to work on his walls, just personal shots of friends and family. And photographic memories of his various excursions. There were pictures of him and fellow climbers in the Himalayas. Riding a bike in the Sonoran Desert. Skydiving in Namibia.

  She stopped in front of his family photos and he could have sworn she was about to cry as she looked at a photo of him with his parents and his siblings.

  He put an arm about her shoulders. “What’s the matter, Pet?”

  She turned and her eyes were misty. “You seem like such a sweet guy. Those are your relatives, aren’t they? You all look so much alike.”

  “Yes, they’re my parents and my brother and sister. You miss your family, huh?”

  “I do, but that’s not why I feel sad,” she told him. She breathed deeply and with her exhale, blurted out, “You’re an experiment, C. I’m using you to prove something to myself.”

  Then she told him about her former fiancé and how he’d broken her heart, and her resolve to never trust another man with her heart. And tonight was her chance to prove to herself that she could be as detached as any male when it came to sex. But he doubted very much that she was of that ilk. She had a tender heart and was failing miserably.

  Smiling, he looked into her eyes and said, “Pet, it has been my pleasure just to talk with you and hold you in my arms tonight. If you want to, I’ll call you a cab and you can go home right now. I am certainly man enough to know when to call it quits. Or, if you don’t have anywhere else to be for the next few hours, we could hang out here. I haven’t had dinner yet and I have plenty of food in the fridge. I could whip us up something to eat.”

  Her eyes brightened. “I’ve had dinner, but I haven’t had dessert yet.”

  He was surprised at how much pleasure those words gave him. He didn’t want this night to end yet. “All right, then. I’ll go change and we’ll reconvene in the kitchen.”

  With that, he let go of her and went to his bedroom to change into something more comfortable, looking back twice to make sure she was still there. He feared that she was going to disappear in his absence.

  * * *

  Petra wrapped her arms around herself as she stood at the window in C’s apartment peering out at the city’s lights. Why had she made up an excuse to stay? Dessert? Psychologically, as her sister Desiree would say, she knew what dessert meant.

  It meant that kiss had been too good to not wonder what more of the same would be like. C was delicious. She was undeniably attracted to him. She’d been curious about him at the bar. He’d made her laugh, and truthfully, when a man could make her laugh that was 50 percent of the attraction right there. He was also intelligent, and now, after seeing where he lived and what he thought was important enough to be on his walls, she also felt he was good inside.

  He returned wearing jeans and a T-shirt, his feet in a pair of slides. When he was standing before her, she looked down at his feet. He had neatly manicured nails on his immaculate toes.

  She smiled. “Nice feet.”

  In fact, all of him was nice. Great pectorals and biceps were evident underneath that T-shirt, and his muscular thighs filled out those jeans quite well.

  She followed him to the kitchen and sat on a stool at the big center island while he opened the refrigerator and began pulling out sandwich makings: lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, mustard and slices of roast beef, turkey and ham. He was obviously not a mayo man, and the mustard was spicy.

  As he built a sandwich, he grinned at her. “What do you want for dessert? I’ve got four kinds of ice cream. Chocolate chunk, French vanilla, Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey and strawberry.”

  “Chunky Monkey?” she said, laughing softly. “If you only knew!”

  He looked puzzled and she didn’t enlighten him. “You like ice cream,” was all she said.

  “Love it,” he said. He piled items on top of wheat bread until the sandwich was a good two inches high. Then he cut it in half with a butcher’s knife, transferred it to a plate and put everything back in the fridge except the bread, which he put in a bread box in the adjacent pantry.

  After doing that, he got two bowls from the cabinet above the sink, took an ice cream scoop and two teaspoons from the utensil drawer and lastly pulled cartons of ice cream out of the freezer and set them on the island’s countertop.

  He looked at her. “Come on, let’s go to the living room and watch a movie while these melt a bit.”

  He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “Would you like some?”

  “Yes, thanks,” she answered, and he handed her a bottle of spring water.

  They moved to the living room area, where the inviting seating arrangement was positioned around the big screen TV.

  Petra sat on the couch and got comfortable. C sat down and placed his plate and bottle of water on the coffee table in front of him, then he picked up a huge remote control, the likes of which Petra had not seen in her years in the Congo, and proceeded to pull up names of movies on the big screen. Petra wasn’t familiar with any of them.

  “What do you want to see? Action adventure, drama, comedy?” C asked. He bit into his sandwich and chewed while she made up her mind.

  “Let’s try a drama,” she said. She felt as though she had been living in the Dark Ages. As he scrolled down the list, she still didn’t recognize any of the film titles. “I give up,” she said. “You pick something.”

  He finished chewing a bite of his sandwich and looked at her. “Where have you been living that you don’t know any of these movies?” he asked curiously.

  It wasn’t that she was unaware of what was going on in the world of entertainment. She simply had little interest in movies or television. Instead she read books. She watched the news. She had intelligent conversations with her colleagues. Yet she was woefully inept about social media. She used her cell phone for communication and research. Google was her friend. Facebook was not. She had never sent a Tweet in her life.

  “I’ve been living in a country where many homes don’
t even have a TV,” she told him.

  This bit of information apparently made him so sympathetic to her plight that he got up, went to her, pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “Ah, Pet, I just want to hold you like this all night long.”

  She had no objection to that, and relaxed in his arms for a moment, but then, in her most authoritative voice, told him, “That sounds good, but you need to finish your sandwich, find us a movie—nothing gory, please—and then give me that ice cream you promised me.”

  He laughed shortly and sat back down. She did, too. A couple of minutes later, the movie Creed starring Michael B. Jordan and Sylvester Stallone was playing on the big screen TV.

  Petra watched with rapt attention. She was a sports fan and found boxing fascinating. She had some martial arts training in her background. Her father, forward-thinking parent that he was, had made sure all five of his daughters had enrolled in judo classes at a young age. Judo was good for girls because it was a sport that didn’t depend on size and bulk. A small person could use their size to their advantage against someone larger. Being supple, strong and intelligent was sufficient. She had earned her black belt by the time she was eighteen. She liked to visit certain dojos in various cities, and she practiced on her own whenever time permitted.

  C must have thought her intense interest in the film was due to Michael B. Jordan’s physique, because he looked at her after finishing his sandwich and said, “Don’t get attached. He’s even younger than I am.”

  “But he’s so cute,” Petra said playfully.

  C stood up and reached for her hand. “Come on, let’s get some ice cream into you so you can cool off.”

  In the kitchen, Petra used the scoop to put a bit of French vanilla and chocolate chunk ice cream into her bowl. “What would you like?” she asked C. Their eyes met.

  C looked at her with such unbridled passion that she knew he wasn’t interested in ice cream. “I’ll just lick whatever you’re having off your lips,” he said.

  Petra took that challenge. She tasted some of the French vanilla, then she went to him and kissed him.

  She moaned with pleasure as the kiss deepened. She realized that she didn’t want this sensation to stop. Her body needed this. She needed this. She was not going to regret it in the morning, either. She was simply going to let herself enjoy being with C.

  She must have looked drunk with desire as C peered into her eyes and said breathlessly, “Does this mean you’ve decided to stay, my Pet?”

  It was the ‘my Pet’ that slayed her. She was ripe for the plucking, and there was no turning back. “I’m yours,” she said.

  He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. And they were kissing again, even more urgently than before. Then she thought about the ice cream that would melt on the counter while they were heating up the sheets in his bedroom and cried, “Put the ice cream back in the freezer first!”

  C laughed uproariously. “Girl, you’re going to drive me crazy!” But he set her down and put the ice cream back in the freezer. In Kinshasa, people didn’t waste food.

  He picked her back up and carried her to his bedroom, with her clinging to him all the way.

  * * *

  Chance was more sexually excited than he’d been in a long time, and he didn’t know if it was because he was doing something he’d never done before, or if he was simply very attracted to Pet.

  Or both. Probably both.

  Once they were in the bedroom, he set her down at the foot of the king-size bed and they raced each other getting out of their clothes. She neatly folded her things and placed them on the back of the chair that stood at the entrance of the walk-in closet. He was down to his briefs by the time she’d walked across the room, and she turned around wearing nothing but matching bra and panties.

  Her body was perfect, as far as he was concerned. She was fit and slightly muscular, her legs and thighs showing delineated muscles due to physical exercise. Whatever she did to look like that, it was definitely working for her. Her arms and belly also were femininely muscular, pleasing but not bulky. Her skin was a uniform golden-brown color. Perhaps she had tan lines when her underwear was off. He’d wait to see.

  She reached back as if she were about to twist her hair up and out of the way, but he cried, “Don’t change a thing.”

  Her arms fell to her sides and she smiled as she walked toward him. “It’s all right with me if you don’t mind hair all over you. I’ve been told it can get in the way.”

  “Whoever told you that is a fool,” he said as he went and pulled her into his arms.

  Warm naked skin touched warm naked skin, and the sensation made him sigh with pleasure. He felt her tremble slightly in his arms, and he wondered if he frightened her or if this whole situation was making her nervous. “There’s still time to back out of this,” he gently told her.

  She met his gaze and tilted her head back, and her exquisite neck seemed to beckon him to kiss it, so he did. Again he felt a slight tremble in her. But when he looked into her eyes, he saw desire and determination in them.

  “I hope you have a good supply of condoms,” she said, smiling.

  “I aim to please,” he said with confidence.

  After that, she licked her lips. The small act suddenly struck him as highly seductive, and he could no longer wait. She must have sensed his urgency, or felt the subtle change in his body, because she ran her hands down the sides of his body, ending at his butt, and pressed him against her crotch. His engorged penis grew even harder. She let out a soft sigh and pulled down his briefs, her eyes never leaving his.

  She removed his arms from about her with slow deliberation and took a step backward, unfastening her bra as she did so.

  Her breasts were full, but not large. They were enough to fill his big hands, and they were firm and round and natural. The nipples were darker than her skin color, and they were erect. He began to salivate at the thought of taking their plumpness into his mouth.

  He finished taking off his briefs and tossed them onto the floor behind him. He eagerly stepped toward her, but she put a hand out. He froze. She peeled off her panties and his heart thumped excitedly at the sight of her womanhood. The hair covering her vagina was the same color as the hair on her head. She was natural from head to toe. His penis must have grown another inch or two at the sight of her.

  “Now?” he asked patiently. At least he hoped he sounded patient. He didn’t feel patient at all.

  She smiled and walked into his embrace. Adam and Eve, he thought. I feel like Adam holding Eve. This is how man and woman are supposed to come together. Naturally.

  They kissed, hands touching, massaging erogenous zones that he didn’t even know he had until he’d met this marvelous woman.

  Now he knew what people meant when they said their toes curled.

  All of him was curling in excitement. Tingling might be a more descriptive word. He wished he could just shut down his analytical mind and simply enjoy the physical experience, the here and the now, but all he could think was that maybe this was going to be the last time he saw her and he’d better make it good.

  So he slowed down as he backed her toward the bed, and when she sat down and scooted farther onto it, he gently picked her up and set her on top of him with his back propped up on a pile of pillows. He then reached into the top drawer of the nightstand, got a plastic-wrapped condom out, tore it open and rolled it onto his rock-hard penis. He looked into her eyes and she responded by rising up, positioning his penis at the entrance of her vagina and slowly impaling herself on it. It felt so good, it took all of his willpower not to come. She was tight and hot, and the utter look of pleasure on her beautiful face was almost his undoing.

  She bent and kissed him, and the pleasure heightened even more. Their thrusts were slow, languid, the kind you wanted to last forever but even though you knew it was futile, you still sent
up fervent prayers for longevity anyway.

  He closed his eyes, relishing the level of synchronicity they shared. But then he opened them again because he didn’t want to miss anything. He would have the visual memories of her in his mind forever. Logically, he knew this was a one-night stand, but emotionally, it didn’t feel like one.

  After several wonderful, extremely sensual minutes, Pet’s thrusts sped up. Her nipples were more swollen and he couldn’t resist them any longer. He rose up on his elbows and gently took one of them in his mouth. Pet moaned loudly. “Oh, God, that feels so good.”

  The feeling was mutual. He gave the other nipple equal time. She began panting. He enjoyed twirling his tongue around the areola. He licked the berry-like nipple with the tip of his tongue. She groaned as though her pleasure was coming to a peak and she was trying to hold it off.

  Her thrusts sped up. He grasped her firm bottom and held on, letting her ride him, concentrating only on giving her pleasure. When she screamed, he knew he’d hit her sweet spot. She collapsed on top of him, and the fact that she’d orgasmed on top of him, her body convulsing with the release, sent more blood rushing to his already hard penis.

  He gently rolled her onto her back and smiled at her. “Open up for me, my Pet,” he growled.

  Pet smiled seductively. “C, you say such romantic things.”

  She looked so beautiful with her hair splayed out on the pillows, her face flushed, penny-colored eyes looking at him with passionate intensity. He couldn’t have been more aroused.

  He intended to give her something to remember him by. And she surprised him by matching him thrust for thrust. It was as if his sexual readiness empowered her. But then, women, wonderful creatures that they were, didn’t need to rest between orgasms. They could have multiple orgasms to a man’s puny one during lovemaking. The bed was getting a workout tonight.