by ANDREA SMITH
bailed. I’m not proud of that but it is the truth.”
Our main entrée arrived. Trey and I remained silent until our server had left. Neither of us had touched any of the food yet.
“After you left me, I contacted Charlotte. I wanted something to distract me from the emptiness I was feeling. I thought she might do that. It was a mistake.”
I didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue because I knew there was more.
“We dated sporadically for awhile, Tylar. I was spending more time in Atlanta since you had left. Up until that time, nothing had happened between Charlotte and me, though I knew that she was ready and willing. She made no secret of that. She came to spend a weekend with me in Atlanta. We went out dining and drinking; I wanted to get past you. I was struggling.”
He stopped, took another drink of his wine, and I saw a smile flicker across his face. What did he find amusing about any of this? I felt I was on the verge of being crushed.
“We were in the limo, on the way back to my apartment. Charlotte was trying her best to seduce me in the back of the limo. Don’t get me wrong, I had every intention of fucking her that night. I wanted to fuck her hard so it would wash away the emptiness that was left in your wake. Men think like that, Tylar. Perhaps women do as well. She unzipped me, pulled my cock out and proceeded to perform oral sex.”
(Oh God, I don’t want to hear this!)
“Nothing happened,” he said, “I couldn’t even get an erection. She wasn’t you. I hadn’t even touched her. She disgusted me. I finally told her to get up. I put my flaccid cock back into my pants and zipped them up. I told the driver to take her to the Marriott Hotel close to my apartment building. I handed her $500 and told her to get a room for the night, that I would ship her luggage back to her the following Monday.”
Oh my God, I thought. My hormones were giggling and snickering. How humiliating that must have been for poor Charlotte. Bahahaha!
“What did she say to you?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I believe she called me an impotent faggot, and instructed me to burn in hell.”
He smiled, showing his dimple and I couldn’t resist laughing softly.
“Well, I mean eventually you would have been able to perform sexually, I’m sure,” I commented to him.
“I hope that I never have to test your theory,” he responded, taking my hand into his.
“So, am I forgiven, Ms. Preston?”
“Trey, you did nothing that requires my forgiveness. I am relieved that you couldn’t get it up, I won’t lie about that. I don’t like thinking about you having been with anyone else but given the circumstances surrounding your engagement being broken, I don’t by any means believe that you’ve behaved like a whore dog or anything.”
He chuckled, softly, running his hand through my hair, capturing a lock of it between his fingers.
“Can I ask you a personal question that doesn’t pertain to me?”
“Go ahead,” he said, still rubbing my lock of hair.
“How long was it after Tess broke the engagement that you had sex with someone else?”
He thought for a couple of seconds before answering.
“It was about two or three weeks. There was no lack of women in Cambridge, trust me.”
“Did you have a problem getting an erection with whoever that was?” I asked.
“Not a bit,” he said, smiling.
“Now,” he said, dropping the lock of my hair he was twirling. Are we going to eat this food that is getting colder by the second?”
“I’d rather see if Carmelita could have someone box it up to go, please?”
“Are you not feeling well, Tylar?” he asked concern on his face.
“No, I’m fine Trey. It’s just that I would prefer to eat this in the privacy of your room, later. I need to fuck you now.”
He gave me a startled smile, signaling our waiter over. He requested everything be boxed to go and requested the bill.
“Italian food is much better warmed up anyway,” he remarked, giving me a wink. “Your wish is my command, baby.”
I massaged Trey’s junk the whole way back to the manor; he was fairly bursting from his trousers by the time he pulled his car into the garage. We gathered up the bags and boxes of food that had been packed up for us at Morelli’s.
Once inside the foyer, Trey’s parents were coming down the main hallway towards us. I saw Trey lower his stack of boxes in front of his crotch to hide his major erection.
“I thought you were eating out, Trey,” Susan said, eyeing the containers marked ‘Morelli’s Fine Dining’ that we carried.
“It looks to me as if you ordered take out. Why would you get all dressed up to get take out?”
“Susan,” Clive chimed in, “Stop giving them the third degree.”
“Mother, we had quite a bit left over,” Trey lied. “Tylar thought she might be hungry later now that she’s eating more often.”
(What a liar! Bahahah!)
“Well certainly, sweetie,” she smiled lovingly at both of us. “Here let me take these and put them in the refrigerator for you, okay?”
“Thanks, mom,” Trey said congenially, nudging me to hand her my stack of boxes so that he could continue masking his semi-erect state.
I handed her them and Trey followed her out to the kitchen.
“So,” Clive inquired pleasantly, “What are your plans for the evening?”
(I’m going to fuck your son seven ways from Sunday!)
“Nothing special,” I replied, smiling. “We just want to relax; Trey mentioned something good on Pay Per View I think.”
“Splendid,” he remarked, grabbing their coats from the hall closet. “Thatcher is off tonight, so you may have to fend for yourself. Susan and I are playing bridge at the Anderson’s.”
“You’re welcome to join us,” Susan invited, as she and
Trey came back into the foyer.
“We’ll pass, mom,” Trey said, coming to my side and putting his arm around me possessively.
My butterflies were doing loop de loops at his nearness. His story about not getting hard for Charlotte had made me super horny. We bid them both a good evening, closing the door behind them. I had taken my ‘fuck me’ shoes off, holding them in my hands. We watched them pull their car out of the garage and head out. Hand in hand we ran up the steps to Trey’s suite.
Trey helped me out of my dress. I started rolling my lacey thigh highs down my leg when Trey stopped me.
“Leave them on,” he instructed.
I shrugged, rolling the stocking back up. I had black lacey panties on, and my new black push up bra. I had some serious cleavage going on. Trey handed me my ‘fuck me’ shoes. I looked up at him questioningly.
“Put them on,” he instructed.
I slipped them back on my feet. Trey led me over to his bed; he was completely naked, his manhood fully erect. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him. His mouth captured mine in a hot, passionate kiss. His teeth lightly tugged at my lower lip; it was erotic. His mouth devoured mine, his tongue thrusting inside my mouth, his hands capturing my breasts in a strong grip. He was rougher than usual, but I liked it.
He lifted me up, laying me on my back in the center of the bed. His hands spread my legs apart, he knelt down between them. His hands massaged my breasts, freeing one from the cup while his mouth sought it hungrily. He licked the erect nipple, gently biting it bringing me to the fine line between pleasure and pain. God, I was wet. He moved to my
other breast, sucking it then gently biting the nipple.
His hands went lower, down my belly, and his lips traced the path behind them.
His right hand pulled the elastic band away from my left leg, so that his fingers could gain entrance into my wet apex. He fingered me roughly, but it was all good. His fingers slid in and out of my sex. He put his fingers up to my mouth.
“Lick,” he ordered.
I obeyed. It was salty sweet. Not what I exp
ected. His fingers went back down, kneading the area over my pubic bone, while his tongue was licking my clitoris in a swift, circular motion. His mouth pressed around the hood of my clitoris, his teeth lightly nipping the area. It felt like electric shock waves were going through my body. I was moaning and wreathing under his touch. I wanted more. My arms were pulling him toward me.
“What baby? Tell Trey what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me hard, Trey. I want your cock inside of me right now. I want you to make me come all over you,” I gasped, pulling him to me.
He didn’t remove my panties; he positioned himself over me, and I watched as he placed his left hand on his penis, guiding it inside my sex, his right hand pulling my panties aside to allow entrance. The elastic around the leg opening that was pulled aside rested against my clitoris. Every time Trey pulled in and out, the tension on the elastic flicked against my clit.
(Oh my God!)
“Put your legs up around my back,” he instructed. I obeyed, my ‘fuck me’ heels, digging into his muscular back.
“That’s my girl,” he breathed huskily, plunging himself into me over and over again.
His momentum increased, my hips thrusting to meet his every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin was loud. He moaned, changing his tempo to slower, circular motions. I lowered my legs so that my heels were now digging into his ass, kneading his gorgeous cheeks with the pointy steel toes as they circled over and over. He increased his rhythm again, pulling in and out, then around and around.
I could feel the swell of my sweet spot. The head
of his penis was tapping it now, making the warmth inside me spread with pleasure filled spasms.
“I love your cock, Trey,” I said hoarsely, pounding my pelvis against him, grinding my heels into his backside.
“Umm baby it’s yours,” he said, “No one else’s ever.”
I was ready and he knew it. His arms were beneath me, lifting my backside up slightly, tilting me so that he had full access to my sweet spot, the elastic on my panties continued straining across my clitoris. I was going to have dual climaxes simultaneously. Fuck!
“Oh God,” I screamed as both climaxes spiraled around me, taking control of every nerve and muscle in my body.
“Fuck me there, oh yeah, God you feel so good Trey,” I whimpered, my mouth pressed against his neck.
He was climaxing now around me. It was so fucking virtual I couldn’t tell where I left off and he began.
He groaned loudly, his thrusts pounding into me allowing my orgasm to go on and on; my gush of ejaculation running down my thighs.
“That’s my baby,” he crooned to me. “That’s my baby, keep it going baby, that’s it.”
He stiffened and shuddered; I felt the pulsating of his penis as the spasms of ejaculation emptied into me. We were covered with each other’s sweat.
Trey collapsed on top of me and we didn’t move for several minutes. Our bodies needed to wind down from the multi-orgasmic exertion. Our breathing slowly normalized. Trey rose up pulling himself slowly out of me. He laid down right beside me, pulling me up against him one arm around me softly rubbing my lower back.
“I love you so fucking much, Tylar,” he said, softly.
“I fucking love you more, Trey,” I said, lifting my face to kiss his lips.
We kissed softly for several minutes, drinking in the closeness and intimacy we had found. I didn’t want anything to break the spell, the connection that we still had.
The room had cooled down somewhat. We hadn’t bothered to get beneath the covers before we fucked. Our clammy skin was getting chilled.
I pulled off my spiked heels, tossing them over the side of the bed. Trey and I jumped under the covers and cuddled. The whole room smelled like sex; our sex. I loved it. Trey placed his hand on my bump which seemed to be growing a bit every day. It was if our baby knew Trey was there. Usually within a minute or two, the stronger butterfly movements would start. Today was no different.
The expression on Trey’s face never changed. It was as if he was feeling the baby’s movement for the first time every time he did this. He left his hand there while propping his other arm up to rest his head in it while watching me.
“What?” I asked, noticing him staring.
“You have that ‘thoroughly fucked’ look,” he said, grinning proudly.
“You look pretty thoroughly fucked yourself, Mr. Sinclair,” I replied.
“I don’t want to break the spell, but we do need to talk about our situation,” he said, his tone serious.
(What situation is that?)
“Tylar,” he said, softly, “I want us to be married.” (That is so not the way to propose, Sinclair!)
I groaned loudly, grabbing one of the bed pillows and putting it over my face.
“What? You don’t want to marry me?” he asked, sincerely perplexed.
“Trey,” I said calmly and reasonably, removing the pillow from my face. “We’ve known each other what, ten minutes? Put things in perspective please.”
“I thought I was,” he replied, ticked off. “We are having a baby together. We love each other. It’s the natural thing to do.”
“Trey, can we table this discussion until sometime after the baby arrives?
“Tylar, our baby is not going to be born a bastard; I won’t allow it.”
“What do you have against bastards?” I asked pointedly, my eyes flashing angrily.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How else could you have meant it,” I asked, sitting up and fired up.
“Tylar, be reasonable, please? I only want what is best for all of us. I love you, baby. I want you with me.”
My eyes were tearing up. Here come the waterworks. Trey was getting upset; my tears weren’t going to help matters. I couldn’t help it. I was so emotional these days.
“I love you too, Trey,” I sobbed, burying my face into his neck.
Once the flood gates opened, I knew the sobs were not stopping anytime soon. Trey continued to rub my back, trying to soothe me with his sweet words but it wasn’t helping. He was getting frustrated.
“Tylar, please,” he pleaded, “Stop with the crying. I didn’t mean to make you unhappy, baby. I thought you would be happy.”
“Trey,” I sobbed, “I would be happy if I didn’t think the reason was because I’m knocked up. I want to marry you when I’m not pregnant. I'm sorry but that's my final decision."
I rolled over on my side, no longer facing him. I needed to compose myself. I felt him get up out of bed, heading to the bathroom. He tripped over something on the way there, cursing loudly as he picked it up and hurled it against the wall. He slammed the bathroom door. I looked over at what he had thrown against the wall. It was one of my ‘fuck me’ shoes. I couldn’t restrain a giggle as I pulled the covers up over my face so that he wouldn’t hear me.
I heard the shower going a few minutes later. He needed to cool off; he was pissed and pissed had no place in our magic bubble for now I decided. I loved Trey with my whole heart and soul. I had decided a long time ago that I was not going to walk down the aisle prego. That was simply
not an option for me.
I scrambled out of bed, taking the opportunity to remove my stockings and bra. I grabbed a clean pair of underwear from my suitcase. I was still dripping Trey, but the panties I took off were soaked. If I was lucky, these clean panties would only get damp. Somehow my dirty laundry was getting done, folded and put back into my suitcase. I wondered what the staff thought about all the cum soaked undies. This bought a fresh supply of giggles. Wow, my moods were all over the place.
Having my clean panties on I headed back to the bed. I saw Trey’s discarded shirt on the floor where he had tossed it while getting naked. I picked it up, brushing it up against my face. Ummm...I loved that Trey smell. I quickly shrugged it on, buttoning a few of the buttons and climbed back into bed. I laid there for a few minutes, feeling the baby moving around again. I put my hand on my
belly.
“Daddy’s pouting,” I said. “He’ll get over it.”
I hugged Trey’s shirt to me, relaxing back against the goose down pillows. The sound of the shower finally put me to sleep. I didn’t hear Trey come to bed.
I awoke sometime during the night and he was right beside me, his arm thrown across me possessively. I could hear his soft, even breathing. I turned to look at him, never
getting enough of his handsome face. The clock on his nightstand read 2:42 a.m.
Trey had come to bed angry with me I thought. He was hurt that I didn’t take him up on his marriage proposal. I didn’t want that to be a bone of contention between us throughout the rest of my pregnancy. Mostly I didn’t want the stress of it.
I ducked down under the comforter and sheets; he had come to bed naked, that was a good sign. Trey needed some make-up sex. I snuggled downward finding his penis. I gently and deliberately stroked it with my tongue, kissed it with my lips. He stirred in his sleep, making no move to stop me.
As always, his manhood rose to the occasion (for me). I thought about Charlotte having touched Trey’s cock; of having had it in her mouth. I hated the thought of it. I would wash it free of her. I continued licking and swirling the head with my tongue, gently letting my fingers trace behind his sack, to that special sweet spot of his.
He moaned, his hips thrusting for me to take him fully into my mouth. I complied, loving the feel of him as I slid up and down the full length. Several minutes later, having drunk fully of his salty nectar, I emerged from beneath the covers, brushing my hair back off of my face. He was on his side; his eyes regarded me warmly.
He reached his arm over, pulling me closer. His lips found mine, drawing me into a series of sweet soft kisses, nestling his forearm behind my head. He stroked my hair gently.
“I love you,” I whispered, cuddling up against him.
“I love you, too baby,” he replied
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I awoke Saturday morning feeling Trey’s morning wood poking me in the back. His arm was lying intimately across my breasts. He was still sleeping. It was highly unusual for me to awake before Trey. I rolled over to face my man. He was as gorgeous as ever. I brushed a light kiss to his lips, throwing the covers back. I had to pee like a race horse. He stirred as I exited the bed.