by Brisa Starr
For starters, we disagree on politics, and we have very different approaches to medicine. Which wouldn’t be a big deal except that conventional medicine is my life, and she’s clearly passionate about alternative medicine, which I have a hard time taking seriously. She’s had a couple wins in this department, I’ll give her that. But nothing that’s going to make me suddenly throw away everything I know about Western medicine. And now I see how messy she is. Not to mention, we live in different states. These are valid concerns.
So, then, what do we have in common, if anything? Well, to begin, a huge fucking attraction and a crazy connection is the best way I can describe it, from the moment I laid eyes on her. I’ve never felt this way before with any other woman. But is that enough? Is that what love at first sight is like?
After attempting meditation for twenty minutes and making a light dinner for myself, I wind down for the night. During my meditation, I couldn’t stop thinking about Emma, and my meditation efforts were futile. Maybe I can distract myself with something on Netflix. I grab the remote and turn on the TV in my bedroom. I search for a good five minutes to find something. Nothing holds my interest.
Halfway into a boring show, there’s a knock at my door. I get up and open it to see Emma standing there. She’s wearing her pajamas, and her hair is loose, divided over her shoulders and tumbling down her back and over her breasts. She’s not wearing any makeup, and she looks fresh and natural with beautiful, creamy skin and pink, pouty full lips. Her wild beauty drives at my heart.
She looks up at me with her big eyes and says, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep tonight because of the scorpion.”
She looks down, her dark lashes sweep across her cheekbones. She’s clearly frightened. And the last thing I would want is for her to be scared. Or get stung! I try to calm her fears and say, “The odds of there being another one in the house are slim. We rarely ever get them.”
“I’m still scared,” she admits softly.
I think for a moment, and then I remember something.
“Here’s what I can do. We keep black lights in the house because scorpions glow under them. So I’ll check your room for scorpions. How’s that sound?”
“They glow? How?”
“I don’t know. Alien shit.” I head to the bathroom to get the black light.
“Weird. Alright thanks, Landon. That would make me feel much better.” She turns to walk away and calls over her shoulder, “I even tidied up my room for you.”
“Ha. I’ll be the judge of that,” I yell back, watching her sashay across the living room. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
She heads back to her room, and I get the black light from the drawer. I pause a moment, feeling again my mounting desire for her. I’m about to be in close quarters with her while I go on a scorpion hunt and she’s wearing those sexy goddamn pajamas that I could easily rip off her before fucking her hard. Damn. I need to cool down. I splash my face with cold water and take a calming breath.
I go to her room, and she’s sitting on the bed with her knees tucked under her chin. She looks innocent, sweet and sexy, but very scared.
“I have to turn the lights off. If there are any scorpions, they’ll glow fluorescent yellow under the black light.”
She looks at me a bit hesitantly but sees that it’s necessary.
“You can wait in the other room if you want,” I offer.
“No,” she looks at me. “I’ll just stay here on the bed.”
I turn the lights off.
A blanket of silence covers us as I walk around the room, looking for scorpions. I look under the table and dresser. I check her bathroom and walk-in closet. I shine the light high up on the walls.
“Walls?” she asks with fright in her voice.
“Yeah, the little fuckers like to climb.”
“Oh my god,” she says. I can practically feel her heart rate increasing by the second from across the room.
I move to the bed and look under it. “So far so good. I don’t see any,” I say. I also check under the nightstands next to the bed.
“Only one more place to look,” I tell her.
“Where’s that?” she asks and dangles her legs off the bed, her nearness overwhelming me. I manage to regain my focus.
“The bedding itself. The sheets, the pillows,” I say as I stand right in front of her. She doesn’t move, and I move closer. It’s dark, but I hear her breath catch, and I stand right up next to the bed, between her legs.
I bend down and press my lips to her ear. I breathe in her intoxicating scent before saying, “I want to taste you, Emma.”
She swallows hard, but she doesn’t move away or say no.
“You want me to taste you, don’t you? I know you do.” I kiss her then, my mouth demanding access to hers. She groans and wraps her arms around my neck, giving me access, making me kiss her harder. Our lips bruise each others, and I’m drowning in her sweetness.
I lean back. With our eyes now adjusted to the darkness, I see desire etched all over her face. “I like tasting your mouth, but that’s not what I meant when I said I wanted to taste you.”
I see her body shiver with want, and she hums a low sexy sound in her throat. I boldly continue, “I want to lick your pussy and taste you, Emma.” I pull her soft cotton top up and over her head, and she lifts her arms up to help. I press my hands against her shoulders to make her lie back on the bed. I lean over her and hear her gasp as I kiss her neck, licking and sucking and making my way down to her gorgeous breasts. I squeeze them and move my mouth to her nipples, first teasing her by licking around them before sucking on them. She moans her approval and squirms beneath me as want and desire thrum through her.
“Oh, Landon,” she breathes.
“I know that feels good, baby.”
I gently tug on her nipples with my teeth and she breathes heavier. I continue kissing her breasts, sucking, nibbling, biting, and she arches her back up off the bed wanting more. My cock is raging hard in my shorts, and I want to fuck her so badly, but not before I taste her pussy lips. I want her to know what I can do for her, how I will make her feel. Any time she wants.
I sit up and step back a bit so that I can pull her shorts off her. “I’m going to make you cum so hard, baby, you’ll be begging me to eat your sweet pussy every day.” I can feel the heat rising off her pretty little cunt as I spread her legs and kneel on the floor between them.
She’s breathing heavier, panting, as I kiss the soft inside of her thighs, trailing my tongue toward her pussy. I cross over her bush with my nose, inhaling her musky sweet scent before moving to her other inner thigh to lick it and kiss my way down toward her knee. On my way back to her pussy, I bite the inside of her leg and she gasps, “Please. Landon, I need you.”
“Oh, don’t worry, you’re gonna have me. I promise.”
My face now directly in front of her pussy, I spread her lips with my fingers and gently plunge my tongue into her wetness. “God, you’re so wet for me, baby. You want me badly. You’re dripping for me, just like a good girl.”
She writhes her hips and grabs my head, pulling it into her sweet, wet pussy, and I lap up her juices. I lick her from the top to the bottom of her slit, up and down, down and up.
“Oh my god, Landon, yes, please,” she groans louder.
I move to her clit and flick it with my tongue, driving her crazy, and she’s trying to grind harder on my mouth. I roll her clit around with my tongue and then slide my finger into her dripping pussy, fucking her with my finger while sucking on her clit. Her pussy lips swell with desire, and she’s bucking under my mouth. I keep licking and finger-fucking her, pressing her inside her pussy just where she needs it.
I pull my finger out and lick her sweet pussy juice off it before fucking her with my tongue, deep inside her, in and out, lapping her up.
“Landon, I’m almost there, please don’t stop. Please. Please.”
Her begging drives me crazy, and my cock is so hard I fear I’ll burst
my seed all over the inside of my shorts.
It’s time to make her come. I move my tongue back to her clit and flick it fast and hard, licking it, sucking it, savoring it. My finger fucks her again, plunging in and out of her tight pussy as it squeezes around me. She’s writhing, moaning, and bucking her hips faster and harder. She’s almost there… just about there. She keeps grinding on my mouth, her hands pulling my head into her cunt harder and her breath quickens, “Oh god, oh god, yes, oh god, Landon, yes!” she whines, still writhing.
“Come for me,” I growl, licking faster.
And she does. She shakes and shivers and comes a delicious, deep, intense explosion in my mouth, and I devour her juices, savoring her sweet drippings.
“You taste so good, Emma. I’m going to crave you and need your sweet pussy in my mouth every day.” I say as her heartbeat, still intense, starts to slow slightly, and she stretches her legs, smiling.
She props herself up on her elbows and looks at me as I take my shorts off. They fall to the floor. And I’m standing in front of her with my underwear still on, uncomfortable as fuck.
“I want to see you better,” I say and walk over to the nightstand to turn on a dim light.
She watches my every move, her eyes still half-dazed after her orgasm, and I walk back to the end of the bed where her legs are still wide open. I let her get a good look at me as she trails her eyes from mine, down my chest, until they stop at my raging, bulging cock pressed down under my black boxer briefs. Her eyes come back to mine, and they’re lit with desire.
“I want you. Now.” I tell her. “I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” She licks her lips.
Just then, the doorbell rings, and there’s a loud knocking at the door. “What the fuck!” I growl.
The doorbell rings again. And again, an urgency to it. “Hello? Hello? Mr. Mitchell?” I hear yelling from outside.
I close my eyes and hold my breath for a second, controlling my mounting anger and hoping that the intruder will go away. Then, three harder knocks and more doorbell ringing, “Mr. Mitchell? Hello? Are you in there?”
“For the love of god!” I bark, pulling my shorts on and storming out of the room to see who the fuck is on my porch. I yank open the door and see two members of the Sheriff’s Community Posse standing there, wearing their brown uniforms, plus surgical masks on their faces. They’re a good five feet from the door, but they look ready to pounce, if needed.
The taller one quickly asks, “Is everything OK, sir?”
“No!” I growl, “I mean yes!” I take a deep breath to calm my anger and then ask, “What can I d-?”
Just then, I notice the porch light is blinking. “Why the hell is my porch light blinking?” I yell.
“Well, Mr. Mitchell, that’s what we were about to ask you. It’s why we’ve been knocking on your door.”
I look at him, confused, and he continues. “You see, sir, all the houses in Sun City West are outfitted with an emergency flashing light system.
I close my eyes and rub my hand down my face.
The taller of the two, bald, with friendly eyes, continues in his southern drawl, “If a senior citizen requires help because of some sort of emergency, all they have to do is turn on their porch light to blinking, and this alerts neighbors or anyone driving by that the person in the house needs help.”
“What? I’ve never heard of...” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. That means I was the one responsible for disrupting Emma and myself and our epic evening?
“Yes sir,” resumed the taller man. “So that’s why we were pounding on your door, because we thought there was an emergency and you needed help. We were just about to call the fire department.” He leans a little to the side and looks around me into the house. “But it looks like this was just an accident.”
“Yes, everything’s fine. My sister told me to turn the porch light on so you would know people are here. You know, with the virus... and you were going to leave face masks and rubber gloves, right?”
“No problem, sir,” the man chuckles. “It’s not the first time this has happened. Your masks and gloves are right here in this bag. I’ll just leave it here on the ground, and you can pick it up when we’re gone.” He leans over and sets a brown paper bag on the tiled entryway.
He then proceeds to school me about the light switch. “Your porch light switch has three positions. It can go up or down, or stay in the middle — that’s OFF — the middle slot is OFF,” he repeats, like he’s teaching a class. He continues, “If you just want your porch light on like normal, without it blinking, you switch it down. And if there’s an emergency you flip the switch up.”
“Well, that seems backwards,” I say sharply.
“Yes sir, I agree, but that’s how they built them.”
“OK, thank you. I’ll be sure to remember that.” I turn to close the door, but he starts talking again. I try not to show my irritation.
“You have a good night. Stay safe and healthy and use proper precautions for the virus. We’re recommending that everybody stay home as much as possible.”
“Yes I know. We’re prepared to do everything we can. Good night.” I close the door, not giving a fuck if I was rude or cut them off. I have better things to do. I’ll get the damn bag later.
I head back to Emma to pick up where we left off. My cock is getting hard as I think about burying it between her legs, deep inside her pussy. I walk into the bedroom, ready to continue where we left off.
8
Emma
Who could be at the door? I take a deep breath, my body still reeling from the aftershocks of that amazing orgasm. Yowza! I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life! That man worked magic with his tongue, eating me like he was starving, and I was the feast. Hot damn!
But. I also take this moment to relish the privacy that I have until Landon comes back.
The doubt creeps in as the high from my orgasm plummets. Crap. As right as this feels with Landon, there’s a part of me screaming to stop.
Right now.
While it can still be stopped.
Before it’s too late.
The nagging voice in my head screams to me that I shouldn’t do this with him. I can’t do this with him. The kiss the other night was bad enough, but then I made it worse by letting him eat me. Fear slithers up my spine, leaving me vulnerable. Exposed.
The war between my head and heart begins yet again, a broken record that’s left me exhausted this past week. My head says that I’m not even sure I like him very much. He aggravates me to no end. We value completely different things. My heart, on the other hand, feels something for him. The way he looks at me. A bizarre connection that I felt when we first met. There’s a longing, a borderline obsession that drives me wild for him.
The fear grips my heart tighter, and the only thing that brings me relief is knowing that I can stop it now. Before it’s too late. I realize I can still save my heart. Siding with my brain, I slump with relief that the doorbell stopped what was about to happen.
I make my decision, and I quickly get up and turn on the other nightstand light. I put my pajamas back on and straighten the covers on the bed. Noticing that my legs are still quivering a bit, I sit down on the bed. What can I say, he’s good with his tongue.
I hear the front door close, and I know he’s on his way back to me. Do what’s right. Stop this before it goes any further.
He walks into the bedroom, his eyes filled with lust. Before I buckle to the floor and get on my knees before him to return the oral favor, I square my shoulders and face him.
“Landon, stop.” I hold my hands up before he can take another step closer, and my body betrays me again.
I look at him, my eyes pleading. “I can’t do this,” I whisper.
“What do you mean you can’t do this?” he says harshly.
“I’m sorry, Landon. I can’t, and I won’t. I can’t let you come between me and my goal. I don’t have room for you in my life
. And let’s be honest... this would just be a fling. And I don’t do flings. I won’t let myself get hurt.”
“How do you know this would be just a fling?” he asks earnestly. “You don’t know what can happen.”
“Get real, Landon, please,” I say and quietly laugh in exasperation. “Need I remind you that, not only do we have nothing in common, but we live nowhere near each other? You have a life in Wisconsin, and I have a life in Michigan. I’m not interested in a long-distance relationship.”
“Stop it, Emma.”
“No, you stop. I’m not gonna do this,” I say firmly. “Now, please. Leave my room.”
Part of me hates myself for what looks like hurt and rejection on his face. Part of me is scared that he’ll listen to me and not try again tomorrow. And part of me is proud for protecting my heart and staying focused on my goals. The last thing I’m going to do is return to Michigan, not only heart-broken, but also without a finished book, which is the only reason I’m here.
I’m not here to fall in love with someone who isn’t even right for me. Or to have a fling.
He looks at me one last time, and there’s a mix of sadness and anger in his eyes, tinged with longing. “We have something more,” he says and shuts the door on his way out.
I sigh heavily. And for a moment, I let myself go, and tears begin to mist my eyes. Confusion floods me. I can’t help but agree with him. There is some connection that goes beyond lust for him, but I can’t deny the reality that this would never work. I don’t want to live a life with a relationship full of constant bickering. He doesn’t even respect my work, which means he doesn’t respect me. And that is probably what hurts the most.
A single tear trickles down my face, as I start to feel self-doubt creep back in. Questioning myself, as usual. Telling myself no when I want to say yes. Second-guessing myself on an hourly basis. I’m so tired of it. I came out here to prove to myself that I could accomplish something difficult. Now I’m just filled with doubt, clouded by desire, fascination, and complete frustration with the man on the other side of the house.