by Nikki Sex
“No, no, that feels so good. Don’t stop,” I encourage him, easily meeting his sightless gaze. “You can lick, suck, and even bite, too.”
His face brightens. After all his intense study, he hadn’t thought of this.
“Wait,” I say. “Do you want to touch more of me?”
He nods.
I stand up, grab his hands and pull him to his feet directly in front of me. Max stands up for a moment, stares at us curiously but then lays back down.
“Want to find out what I’m wearing?” I say playfully. “Or do you want to just take what I’m wearing, off?”
My attempt at light humor surprisingly sobers him. “Both,” he says quietly, and there’s that sweet blush again. I watch his Adam’s apple move in his throat as he swallows. I’ve seen this in clients before. Joshua’s nervous and turned on.
Once he gets past this initial anxiety, he’ll be fine. Joshua needs me, and I adore being needed. I know I can help him.
My lips curve up as a tendril of amusement adds to my growing arousal. His eager interest and his innocence are making me hot as hell.
I place his hands on my shoulders. “Can you figure out how to do it?”
“I think so,” he says in a low voice.
His movements become much less tentative as firm hands roam over my sheath dress. He skims down from my shoulders, along the sides of my breasts and to mid-thigh where the hem of the dress is.
Without hesitation, he slowly raises the slinky material up and over my head, dropping it casually on the floor.
I giggle. “Good job.”
Joshua grins a flash of white teeth. His hands reach out and grip my bare shoulders, while his thumbs find my bra straps. He turns his head and tilts an ear toward me—as a blind man, his ears are important. I guess it’s his equivalent of seeing.
God, I love the concentration on his face. He spends time tracing my shoulders and collarbones with intense interest, curiosity and lust.
His breathing changes as his fingers follow my bra strap down to my breasts. A soft noise comes out of his mouth, a kind of “umm” sound. Right about now I’m thinking ummm, too.
“Go ahead,” I encourage him, when he discovers the front opening clasp to my bra.
His clever fingers know exactly what to do. The man releases my bra and drops it to the carpet as if he’s been doing this all of his life. Both hands cup my breasts and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
I wish I had a camera to take a picture. The look of astonished delight and almost reverence in his expression is priceless.
I know I’m getting well paid for this, but I swear to God. Joshua Marks, I’d do for free.
Chapter 12.
“At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.”
― Plato
~~~
Renata Koreman
My breasts grow heavy and swollen; they ache. Joshua’s inexperienced touch eases them. Finding my erect nipples with each thumb, he inhales sharply and traces them and my areola with fascination.
“Your nipples are hard but your breasts are so soft,” he marvels.
“You can lick, suck, kiss and bite there, too,” I whisper.
Joshua doesn’t hesitate. He steps in closer and his suit brushes against me as he instinctively wraps one arm around my back. He bends his blond head down to my breast.
“Mm,” I sigh. I swear I could come just from watching him.
As the heat of his mouth encompasses my nipple, a lightning bolt of arousal tenses my core. My breath catches. I squirm and rub my thighs together in an attempt to ease my throbbing clit.
“That feels good,” I murmur, and melt against him.
Encouraged by this display of arousal, he swirls his tongue, nibbling and kissing while his now confident, needy fingers trail over my flesh, continuing their determined exploration.
A single-minded male animal has taken over. Joshua’s doing just as he likes; what comes naturally. He’s making his own noises now, soft tortured sounds of male arousal and sexy, raw need.
There’s a fine tremor in his body. Joshua’s shaking with desire. I am too. My legs feel weak; I need to hold on to something.
“Please don’t stop,” I gasp. My hands search purposefully under the jacket of his suit, gripping his waist. Aching, needing, wanting; I pull myself against him, His body is tense and hard. Mine feels soft and liquid.
“Mm,” he mumbles. His mouth is too full of breast to reply.
“God, yes… yes,” I say, as I slip out of my drenched panties.
With tacit agreement, moving in unison, we urgently begin to undress him. He takes off his jacket, while I reach for his tie, pulling it loose then starting to work on the buttons of his shirt.
His skin is hot and pale, but when his erection springs free, it’s engorged, thick and so damn red. The swollen crown is almost purple. A bead of milky fluid sits at the tip. Yum.
My eyes move to his face. His features are harsh and fierce with lust. In part, this is the ecstasy of arousal. It’s also the pain of gathering sexual tension, building powerfully—right to the edge without release. The man needs to come… badly.
I reach down to hold him, curling my fingers around his long, thick length and his cock jerks. He gasps and his hands tighten in a convulsive grip on my shoulders, while his hips instinctively thrust towards me at my touch.
The musky male scent of him makes my mouth water. I want a taste, but he’s not ready for that. Not yet.
“I dreamed of this,” he murmurs in a deep, husky voice.
“Me too,” I admit.
His body knows exactly what to do. I swear—Joshua didn’t need to study a thing about sex. I’m already so horny, but I restrain my yearning to jump on top of him and ride him to completion. Damn, I want to fuck him silly.
If he seems hesitant, that’s what I’ll do—but I think he’s already figured things out. He’s had a week to think about this.
His cock is incredibly hard and dripping. He won’t last long. That’s fine, because I won’t either.
Breathing raggedly, desperate and naked, we both fall onto the bed together.
Joshua lays on top of me, his thick shaft pressing hard against my mound. I pull him to my face for a real kiss. This time, he understands what I want and doesn’t hold back. Warm and soft, his full lips slide deliciously over my own.
This kiss goes deep. His tongue sweeps inside and explores my mouth in a sexy, erotic dance.
The man not only wants me, he needs me.
Nothing turns me on more.
My breathing is loud and harsh, my pulse speeds. I can hear blood roaring in my ears. My clit feels so distended, pulsing wildly, right along with my racing heartbeat. We each long to somehow get closer, both writhing and pressing frantically together, savage and primal in our lustful abandon.
The sensation of my stiff nipples brushing against the hairs of his chest, the weight of his body upon mine, his ragged breathing and my own—it’s all building rapidly toward something amazing.
“My God, you’re a fast learner,” I rasp against his mouth, as I curl my arms around his neck. My fingers rake through his tight, blond curls. I push my hips up toward his firm body, moving to direct the hard heat of his erection. I moan when it presses exactly where I need it.
There’s no way Joshua could stop now. This inexperienced young man, without any real finesse, has made me hotter than hell. I feel as though I might burst into flames.
“Can I be inside of you?” he asks eagerly, in a hoarse voice.
“God, yes! Please.”
I’m drenched, hot and throbbing. I spread my legs further and he reaches down between them, his fingers at my entrance. He gasps in astonishment at the feel of my arousal. I adjust myself and reach down to help guide him inside. His cock jerks when I touch it.
When the rigid length of his shaft enters me, Joshua exhales with a heavy grunt of pleasure.
I see stars as he pushes inside. We just had maybe thirty minutes
of foreplay and that’s more than enough for me. The feel of his thickness stretching my sensitive tissues sends me right to the edge of release. My back arches and my whole body stiffens. Even my toes curl.
Joshua doesn’t move.
I remain still too, except for the tightening of my internal channel, throbbing with pre-orgasmic pulses. Overwhelmed, I shut my eyes in an effort to absorb these erotic sensations. Holding my breath, I also struggle to postpone what I know is going to be a powerful climax.
“Oh God,” I whisper, and it sounds like a prayer. I don’t think I can hold back.
“Can I…” he gasps, his whole body trembling. “Renata, I want to… is it OK… if I move?”
“Yes! Move, Joshua, please!” I beg. “Don’t stop. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me now!”
“Yes,” he growls with fierce pleasure.
Aware of my impending climax or not, Joshua reacts instantly. He begins to pound himself inside of me in rapid stokes, pushing in to me, pulling out, in, out, faster and faster, in, further in, in, in! Panting heavily, he drives himself inside of me—balls deep, over and over again.
My roiling sexual tension unexpectedly explodes.
“Yes, yes, God yes!” I give a full-throated scream.
I’m coming. I can’t stop myself, my internal muscles clench around him. He doesn’t slow. Urgent, fast thrusts demonstrate how close he is. His balls slap hard against my buttocks as I writhe and convulse uncontrollably.
He finally attains his own release with a sexy, guttural groan. My body continues to shudder with pleasure. When his hot seed fills me, I think I climax again—unless it was one of the longest orgasms of my life.
I almost snicker out loud, as I guess I can’t rule that out.
When we both begin to come down from our intense brush with nirvana, Joshua rolls off of me and lays on his back. We didn’t use a condom, but that’s no big deal. He was a virgin and I’ve been tested and am on birth control. We’ll do condoms later today, as it’s something he needs to learn.
I curl up against his warm chest. My head rests upon him, his arm around me, draped across my back. His heartbeat thunders in my ear. We both breathe heavily, slowly catching our breath.
“Is it…” he says quietly, “… is it always like that?” Joshua asks, while his pulse and breathing return to normal.
“No,” I murmur with one hand resting over his slowing heartbeat. “It’s different every time. Sometimes it’s even better. Since this was your first time, it probably feels extra special because you have nothing to compare it to.”
Triumphant, he laughs and his broad boyish grin captivates me. “I can’t believe I thought I didn’t need this in my life.”
I smile. “Now you know.”
His body is relaxed, his expression serene. Playing with my hair, he lifts one long blonde lock and inhales deeply. “I love the smell of your hair,” he says, running his fingers over my head, stroking along my scalp. “Thank you, Renata. I’m so grateful.”
I could tease him and joke about thanking him for such an excellent climax, but something in his countenance makes me hold back. Sharing sexual pleasure is nothing new to me, but I suspect our time together has completely changed his life.
“You’re welcome.”
He shakes his head. “To have you here with me, touching me and breathing the same air—it’s a miracle. It feels like I’m living inside of a perfect dream.”
Chapter 13.
“A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others.”
― L. Frank Baum
~~~
Renata Koreman
Joshua doesn’t need sight to communicate his feelings. His open expression of wonder is far too moving. Unable to face such honest, intense emotion, I avert my gaze.
“It is a miracle,” I say, feeling the first stirrings of anxiety. After a long moment, I add, “Sex can be intimate, passionate and mind blowing, but it can be fun, too.” I begin to playfully nudge and tickle him, particularly under his arms.
I cry out joyfully when I discover Joshua’s seriously ticklish. The resultant struggle and wrestling skirmish between us alters the mood. We’re both laughing now. Joshua’s poignant and self-reflecting frame of mind evaporates into a playful tussle.
In the end, we spend two hours in bed together and no, it wasn’t all sex. Much of that time was spent talking and laughing.
Some people need alcohol to relax and feel comfortable enough to open up. Some are totally inhibited unless they take drugs. With Joshua, the endorphins released from orgasm have put him on such an incredible high—I can’t get him to shut up. Not that I’d want to.
Usually taciturn, I never imagined he could be so garrulous.
“Renata,” he finally says, when I explain our session is over. “I want to do this again.”
“And so you should.”
“With you,” he amends. “I want to be with you. I love you, Renata,” he says, unexpectedly ardent. “Marry me! Stay with me! I’ve never felt as close to anyone before. I make a decent living; I’d be a good provider. I care about you. I’ll make you happy, I swear it.”
Damn it!
Leave it to Joshua to go right to the end game. No hesitation—no thought of dating or getting to know each other. Yet, I can’t blame him. We’ve talked together honestly. I’ve accepted him without judgment and introduced him to the bliss of a physical and emotional bond.
Sex is a powerful, intimate act of communication and connection. Falling in love, from making love is common. In fact, it’s a high-risk occupational hazard of the surrogate’s job. Both clients and therapists are vulnerable.
Having Asperger's presented social challenges for Joshua, but blindness isolated him even further. How much more life changing would sex be for someone like him?
For Joshua to feel comfortable enough to open up and share things he's never shared before is significant. Until we'd made love, I bet he'd never felt as accepted or as comfortable in his own skin with anyone. The fact that we've given each other such pleasure helped him come out of his shell.
Joshua loves me.
What does he know of love? Romantic, lasting love, that is. What does anyone? Hell, I understand as little as he does, in this regard.
I so want to please him. I share his hunger for romance, love and acceptance. I hate the unspeakable pain of rejection.
I don’t want to hurt him.
Right now, I wish there were two of me. That way, I could give one of myself to him, to fulfill his needs. The other 'me' could continue on my path, helping others and figuring out what I need in life.
I choose my words carefully. “Joshua, we did this so you would gain confidence and find a reason to have a relationship, remember?”
“Yes, but why can’t my relationship be with you?”
“There are many reasons why. For a start, I’m a professional. I was hired by your dad to provide a service, which I did. A relationship between us wouldn't be a good idea. I can’t marry everyone I help, now can I?”
“No,” he says, “but you should marry me.”
I ignore this statement and continue, “Another reason is that I'm your first. The first always seems special.”
“You are special!” he declares vehemently.
I can’t help but feel a little tug of pleasure at this heartfelt conviction.
I speak reasonably with Joshua for some time as we dress. I point out that he needs to have more involvement with others, particularly women. If he marries me—the first woman he ever talked to, in time he might regret it. Unlike him, I’m no genius. I only seem special because I have more social experience and we get along so well together.
I’m exaggerating about my social experience. Compared to Joshua, however, I suppose I do have a lot.
“I’ve been with many different men, Joshua. Now it’s your turn. I’d like to see you have a relationship with other women.”
Joshua’s brows draw down in a heavy frown. �
��Many different men?” he asks. “Did you work as a prostitute?”
If someone else asked me this, I may have taken offense, but I know Joshua doesn’t think like that. He’s asked this question without realizing it might be insulting. It’s a part of his disability. Even though he knows what a prostitute is, he has no idea such a question could be considered offensive.
“Your father paid me to introduce you to sex,” I counter in a calm voice. “Does that make me a prostitute?”
His lips curve up in a generous smile and he kisses my hand. “No. It makes you a really good teacher.”
I laugh and his unintentionally harsh words are forgiven. “Joshua, you know hardly anything about me, and I have a career that involves me being intimate with many people. I need to help others as I’ve done with you today.”
“But you’re not married, right?” he asks. “You do want to be married and have children, don’t you?”
How does he zero in on that? Socially inexperienced and blind, he’s still observant as hell. The man really is a genius.
I roll my lower lip between my teeth. “Yes.”
“So you haven’t found true love, either,” he says, with happy conviction.
The guy is way too smart.
“I’m only twenty-two and I love many people, Joshua. You and I barely know each other. We’ve shared something extremely special. I have a soft spot for you, too, but that’s no reason to marry.”
Or is it?
Joshua’s heavy frown shows how upset he is. I hate to see pain in his expression. What makes me feel worse is I've caused his pain. I was supposed to be helping him, not hurting him. It makes me want to give in, to give him what he wants. To be exactly the person he needs. From the way he’s looking at it, there’s no reason we can’t date.
Joshua thinks he loves me. I wanted to help him and I know I did, but I never meant to hurt him.
I can’t marry him.