by Amy Brent
“I’m a fan of cream-filled myself?” I took out a warm chocolate covered, cream-filled donut and bit into it. The white cream oozed from the center. I used the tip of my tongue to lick it off. Fiona grinned at me approvingly, following the movement of my tongue with her eyes. Licking my lips, I asked, “So, where did you rush off to last night?”
She set down the donut and sucked the glaze from her fingers. “I’m sorry I ran away. It’s just that, well, that’s not something I’d normally do and I guess I kind of freaked myself out.”
“You didn’t have to run away,” I said. “You could have just pumped the brakes, no pun intended.”
“That didn’t occur to me at the time,” she said with a smile. She wiped her fingers on a napkin and gazed into my eyes. “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
Ah, here it comes, I thought. She’s either married or involved or dying of some horrible disease or about to join a convent. Or maybe all of the above. That would be my luck. I finally meet a woman who actually interests me above the neck and there’s something horribly wrong with her.
“Honest about what?” I asked, dreading the answer. “Are you married? Involved with someone? A lesbian just checking out the other team? What?”
She held the smile for a second, then let it fade. “I’m married, but separated. I’m filing for divorce on Monday. I kicked him out and told him to never come home again.” She stared into her cup. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
I nodded thoughtfully and tried not to sigh in relief. I asked, “Is that it?”
She glanced up at me. “Um, yes, that’s it.”
“Can I ask you something? And you must be completely honest with me.”
She gave me a wary look. “Yes, of course.”
I came around the bar where she sat on a high stool. She spread her legs and I moved to stand between them. She put her hands on my waist and I put my hands on her cheeks. As I leaned down to kiss her lips, I asked, “Could I interest you in something else cream-filled.”
She leaned her head back and sighed. “I was hoping you would ask.”
* * *
I took Fiona by the hand and led her into my bedroom. This would not be a quickie like our mad sex in the restroom. I planned to take my time with her. I wanted to get to know every inch of her amazing body. And wanted her to feel free to explore every inch of mine. If we didn’t come out of the bedroom for days that would be just fine with me.
We giggled as we took off our clothes. I shucked off the jeans, boxers, and t-shirt and climbed into my unmade bed. I put my hands behind my head and watched Fiona undress. She took off the jeans and top to reveal matching black panties and bra. Her body was tanned and toned. When she slid the panties down her long legs and let the bra drop from her big boobs, there were no tan lines. Just honey-colored perfection. I figured it was a spray tan, probably for the party last night. Whatever. Tans are like tits: natural ones are nice, but fake ones will do in a pinch.
My cock immediately got hard at the sight of her. I stroked myself slowly as my eyes went over her body. Her eyes watched the movement of my hand on my cock. Her tits were large and natural on her thin frame, with dark areolas and thick, pink nipples that reminded me of a baby bottle. I licked my lips in anticipation of having them between my lips. Her pubes were trimmed in a neat vee that directed my eyes to the fold of her cunt.
“You like what you see?” she asked, playfully holding out her arms to the sides.
“I love what I see,” I said, my hand sliding up and down slowly on my cock. I nodded at my cock. “You like what you see?”
“Yes, I do,” she said, getting on her hands and knees on the foot of the bed, crawling toward me like a sexy jungle cat. She licked her lips as she neared my cock. I stopped milking it and put my hands behind my head. My cock was so hard it ached. The ropy veins pulsed in anticipation of her lips.
She put her hand around the base of my cock to hold it steady as she lowered her lips onto the head, which looked like a crimson mushroom pressed to her pink lips. She leaned my cock toward my stomach and ran her tongue up the length of the underside of the shaft, from my balls to the tip, swirling her tongue around the head before sliding it between her lips. I moaned at the intense pleasure her lips gave me, the heat and wetness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. I opened my mouth to breathe and watched my cock slide in and out of her beautiful lips.
Fiona began to milk the lower half of the shaft as she bobbed her head up and down on the head. Slowly, she spread her lips to let my cock slip into her mouth. First one inch, then two. I held my breath, wondering how much of my ten inches she could fit into her mouth. When my cock hit the back of her throat, she didn’t gag. She just closed her lips around the shaft and pulled back slowly, sucking me, driving me out of my motherfucking mind.
“God… you are… really… good at… that,” I moaned, closing my eyes. I held my breath as she slid me back into her mouth, then pulled back slowly. My balls began to tighten. I knew I would cum if she kept doing what she was doing. I didn’t want to cum in her mouth, at least not yet. I wanted her to milk my thick cock with her tight pussy until I exploded inside her like a volcano. I wanted to feel her pussy milking me, making me cum.
I opened my eyes and smiled down at her. She was smiling up at me with half my cock in her mouth. I held out my arms and wiggled my fingers. “I want your pussy,” I said, breathlessly. “I want you to ride my cock so I can see your face and play with your amazing tits.”
“With pleasure, Mr. Patron,” she said, releasing her grip on my glistening cock as she licked her lips. She got onto her knees so she could straddle my cock. She reached down between us and took my cock in her hand and lowered her pussy onto me. She swirled the bulbous head around her hole for a moment to lubricate it, then lowered herself onto me. I put my hands on her hips and watched as the head of my cock disappeared inside her. Her eyes were closed. She was biting her lip, holding her breath.
“God… your cock… is so fucking… huge,” she moaned. She impaled herself on my cock, taking it in until the head hit her cervix. “There… right… there…”
I dug my fingers into her hips to steady her as she started to rock her hips back and forth, sliding her dripping pussy back and forth over the shaft, washing her juices over me, stopping when the head was at her hole, then sliding back down.
“Fuck… Fiona… your pussy… so fucking… tight…” I put my hands on her tits and gave them a squeeze. They were soft, yet firm. Her nipples were long and plump. I leaned up the take them between my lips as she continued sliding along my cock.
She put her hands on my head as I slathered her tits with my tongue. I could hear her breathing in my ear, panting, moaning. She lifted my head and pressed her lips to mine. “I’m going to cum… Oh god… Nick… I’m going to cum…”
“Cum, baby,” I said, knowing that I wasn’t far behind. I could feel the orgasm building in my balls, hot, tight. I curled my toes and clenched every muscle in my body. I arched my back to lift her in the air. My cock went in deeper, making her gasp.
“Fuck… yes… yes… yes…” Fiona dug her nail into my chest as she came, her head whipping back and forth, riding me like bull. She squeezed her eyes shut and let go a low moan that didn’t end until she was past the orgasm.
It felt as if every nerve in my body was connected to my cock. When I came, filling her wonderful pussy with my hot, milky seed, the orgasm rippled through me and made my entire body tingle. I put my hands on her hips and pushed inside her as far as I could go. The orgasm seemed to take minutes. When we were both spent, Fiona lowered herself on top of me and put her lips to my ear.
“That was amazing,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re not mad.”
“And I’m so glad you brought donuts,” I said with a grin. “Otherwise, I might never have let you in the door.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Fiona
Nick and I lay in each other’s arms without saying a word; just listen
ing to each other breathe. I rested my head on his chest and my hand on his hard stomach and melted into him. His naked body was warm and comforting. His strong arms closed around me and made me feel safe and warm for the first time in years. When Nick’s breathing grew slow and shallow, I closed my eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up, I was alone in Nick’s bed. I stretched my arms toward the ceiling and yawned at the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly noon. I’d been sleeping like a baby for three hours.
“Hey, sleepy head,” Nick said as he came back into the bedroom carrying two cups of coffee and the box of donuts from the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of black boxers and a smile. “I made fresh coffee. I’m afraid we let the other pot burn.”
“It was so worth it,” I said, propping up on pillows and pulling the sheet over my breasts so I didn’t get crumbs down my cleavage. Although if I did I was sure Nick would love to lick them off. He handed me the cup of coffee and set the box of donuts on the bed, then sat on the foot of the bed and crossed his legs.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Nick said, picking up a cream-filled donut and biting into it. He licked the cream from his lips and gave me a smile. “Now, tell me why you’re here.”
I blew a cooling breath into the steaming cup and gave him a playful frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean why are you here,” he said, shrugging his eyebrows. “And I don’t mean because you wanted to tap this shit again.” He grinned at me. “Are you here just for sex or because you’re looking for a rebound romance or…?”
“That’s a good question,” I said. “I’m not sure I know the answer.”
He smiled. “That’s fine. I don’t really care what your reason is. I’m just glad you’re here.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And why are you glad I’m here?”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure I know the answer to that one myself.”
“My, aren’t we two peas in a pod,” I said. I sipped the coffee and cocked one eyebrow at him. “So, we’ve established my relationship status. What’s yours?”
“Mine?” He shook his head. “I am as free as a bird.”
“No girlfriend? Or girlfriends? No serious significant other?”
He shook his head and gave me a sigh. “I have never been in a serious relationship,” he said. “Not once.”
“More of a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ kind of guy?” I’d done my research into Nick Patron’s social life online. He had been linked to lots of women, though none seriously.
“More of a ‘love ‘em and get back to work’ kind of guy,” he said. He smiled at me with his eyes. “Just never had the time for relationships before.”
“Before what?” I asked. Before he could answer, my phone buzzed in my purse on the foot of the bed. Nick heft up the purse and handed it to me. I tugged out my phone. It was Kyle.
“It’s work. I need to take this,” I said, tossing back the covers and sliding out of the bed naked. I did a little dance as Nick clicked his tongue as I trotted into the bathroom and closed the door.
I sat on the toilet and quietly answered the call. “Yes?”
“Fee… oh shit… Fee.” Kyle was crying. Really crying, not pretending to. “Fee, it’s mother. She’s had another heart attack. Jesus, Fee, they don’t think she’s gonna make it. Please come, right away.”
“Fiona, do you want me to heat up your coffee?” Nick called through the door.
“No thanks,” I said quietly, covering the phone with my hand. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I’ll be right there.”
I went back into the bedroom and quickly put on my clothes. Once again, I was running out on Nick after having amazing sex. This time, it couldn’t be helped. I could only hope he understood. I found him in the kitchen pouring himself another cup of coffee.
“Nick, I’m sorry but I have to go,” I said, giving him a pained look. “I swear, I’m not running out on you again, there’s just an emergency that I have to handle.”
He looked disappointed for a moment, then shrugged it off and took me in his arms for a big hug. He kissed the top of my head. “I hope this isn’t going to be how it works every time we have sex. Maybe next time you can hang around longer than a few minutes.”
“Yes, I would love that,” I said, not really knowing what to say. I wasn’t even sure there would be a next time, but this wasn’t the time for that conversation. I leaned up to kiss his cheek, grabbed my purse, and hurried out the door.
* * *
Ramona Cassidy died of a third heart attack, this one massive, before I reached the hospital. The ER doctor who had admitted her the night before met me in the hallway and gave me the news. Large clots had blocked both her arteries and before they could get her to the operating room she had died. I didn’t ask if the angioplasty would have saved her life. We both knew that it would have, but there was no need to say it. I was sure Edward felt bad enough. There was no need to rub salt into his wounds, even if his indecisiveness inadvertently caused his wife’s death.
I pushed open the door to Ramona’s room slowly, dreading what awaited me on the other side. Ramona was on her back in the bed, eyes closed, mouth open, covers up to her chin. Edward was sitting in a chair beside the bed. Kyle was beside him with a hand resting on his father’s shoulder. They were both crying in that quiet, stern way men who claimed they never cried, cried.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, stepping to the other side of the bed. I put my hand on Ramona’s forehead. It was cold and hard. I glanced at Kyle and Edward. Edward was weeping with his hands and forehead resting on Ramona’s arm. Kyle looked at me through big tears and just shook his head. I felt sorry for him, even after everything he had done. When he came around the bed with his arms outstretched, I took him into my arms and rested my head against his shoulder. I began to cry with him. We remained like that, sobbing, until the orderlies came in to take Ramona’s body away.
“I can’t be alone this weekend,” Kyle said, wiping his nose and eyes on his silk handkerchief. “Please, Fee, let me come home. Stay with me, just until mother is laid to rest.”
I didn’t want to, but I didn’t have the heart to say no.
An hour later I as in the back of the limo next to Kyle, headed for home. Danny O was in the seat next to me. I felt as if I was being driven back in time, leaving my newfound freedom, and my wonderful new lover, behind.
CHAPTER TWELVE: Nick
“How was your weekend?” Jesse asked as he breezed into my office just after eight on Monday morning. Jesse’s hair was nearly white now, though his face didn’t sport a single line or crease, other than those from the battles of his youth. He kept his hair buzzed short, professional looking, he called it. He was dressed in a gray suit and a black collarless shirt. A thick gold cross hung from a gold chain around his neck. He looked nothing like the guy in sweats I’d met in that dive bar ten years ago. Jesse sat down in a chair across from my desk and crossed his legs. He bounced his foot and gave me a smile.
“My weekend was interesting,” I said, turning away from the computer to face him. “I met a woman.”
“Of course, you did,” he said with a chuckle. “What else is new.”
I gave him a smile as Uma, my assistant, came in carrying a tray with two cups of strong black coffee. This was our morning ritual: bullshitting over two black coffees before the day began. As busy as we were, it was about the only alone time Jesse and I got anymore.
Jesse took his coffee from the tray and set it on the desk to cool. He spread out his dark hands. “So, tell me about her.”
“Well, let’s see, she is gorgeous, blond, blue-eyed, nice smile.”
“Tits?” Jesse asked, cupping his hands to his chest. “You know I’m a tit man.”
I grinned at him. “Yes, she has tits. Quite nice ones, in fact.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Is that all you guys think about?” I looked up to see Jenna coming into the room, rolling her eyes at her uncle and me. Jenn
a was tall and thin, dark-skinned, with hair that was woven into dreadlocks that hung to her collar. She has a toothy smile and eyes that could cut into you like a knife. She had a stack of mail and a cup of coffee of her own. I nodded and she set the mail on the corner of the desk.
“And good morning to you,” I said, leaning back to lace my fingers behind my neck. “Anything in that stack there I need to look at?”
“No, but there was something online I thought you’d want to see,” she said, sitting in the chair next to Jesse. She opened her iPad and flipped through it for a moment, then turned it around and handed it to me. “I think you knew this lady. She was the one who put on the fundraiser you went to Friday night.”
I frowned at the screen. It was a page from the city newspaper’s website. The bold headline read: Entrepreneur & Socialite Ramona Cassidy Dead At 65. I took the iPad and leaned back in my chair. “Son of a bitch…”