Fire In His Eyes

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Fire In His Eyes Page 13

by Nightingale, MJ


  He placed my hands on the dresser and made me spread my legs wide. I could see myself in the mirror and I could see him behind me. My brown eyes were alight with desire. His blue eyes were in flames. He began with the vibrator, inserting it into me, and withdrawing it a couple of times until I was groaning, swaying back and forth and pushing down on it. I looked at myself in his mirror again. I was so wanton, my hair a wreck falling across my face, skin flushed, ass sore, but climbing every second towards that peak. He left the vibrator in me, and positioned the clitoral stimulator over my clit. He encouraged me to scoot lower so that I was really jerking and feeling the pressure building. He quickly lubed himself, held on to my hips, and pushed once then twice. I wasn’t completely ready for him in my ass. It hurt. It felt awesome. He pumped into me like he was a using a jack hammer. I felt his cock all the way, every glorious inch of it up my ass, I felt it hit and jostle the vibrator. “Move, Monica,” he screamed. I really began to move, pushing my ass into his cock, and we soared together. Holy hell, when the explosion came, I did see stars. Tons of fucking stars.

  Summer was finally here. And, it was both a good thing and a bad thing. It meant two months of sunshine, beaches, and more time for fun. But, it also meant a lot of time to miss spending that time with Victor. It also meant my yearly trip to visit my father in Maine. I went every year for a week, my sister and I, and it was falling on the one weekend a month Victor had off to be with me.

  “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ll try to switch things up. I’ll see if I can get away a bit on Saturday when you come back, and pick you up at the airport.”

  “I’d love that,” I stated. “Try, please. But, if you can’t, I’ll understand.”

  We had one more Thursday night together before, I was leaving and I wanted to make it a night to remember. Special. I bought some new lingerie. It was a bustier in gold with black trim, and matching satin panties. The cups of the bustier were padded a bit to make my breasts look bigger. Victor would like that.

  I put candles all over my bedroom, and bought new satin sheets, in black. He would look glorious laying against them his ice blue eyes on fire for me. God, how I loved those eyes.

  I had a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket by my bed, and two crystal flutes. Sade was playing in the background to set the mood. It was perfect.

  When I answered the door, his mouth hit the floor. My breasts were on full display.

  “God, I love it when you answer the door like that,” he stated. He dropped his overnight bag on the floor and swept me into his arms kicking the door closed behind him with a bang. He carried me to my room. “Wow, I love what you’ve done to the place,” he breathed, noticing the candles and the sheets. And, then he was kissing me. He dropped me onto the bed, and began to strip slowly. As each item came off I gloried in his magnificent body. He folded each item and carefully placed it on the chair in the corner of my room. His chest was absolutely breath taking. His abs perfectly formed from a lot of time at the gym. His waist was narrow, his stomach washboard flat, narrowing into his lean hips, and muscular legs. When he took off his briefs, his cock sprung out ready and gloriously hard. He watched me watching, and rubbed his shaft. “Do you like my cock?” he asked.

  I loved it when he talked dirty. “Yes, I love your cock. I love to look at your cock. Touch your cock, suck your cock, but I love it best when your cock is inside of me. Come here, Victor, so I can do all of those things.” His eyes widened at my words. I had never spoken like that before.

  He came towards me on the bed, eyes burning. He lay down next to me on the satin sheets, and I rolled onto my side, and began to touch him. His chest was first, and I kissed his ribs, each one, and then I scooted lower, leaning up on one elbow and took his cock in my hand. He sighed happily, folded his arms and placed them under his head relaxing and allowing me to have my way with him. I stroked his dick, feeling even more blood rush into it, and bent to give it a little nip with my teeth. I twirled my tongue around the tip, the ridges there that brought him so much pleasure and then put my lips over just the top, sucking hard and then softly. I began to use my lips and tongue to tease him peering up at him, and showing him how much I enjoyed sucking his dick. I murmured my enjoyment, and he groaned in pleasure. I took him deeper into my mouth, and he groaned again, his hands whipping out from underneath him to stroke my hair. God, how I loved this man. I wanted to do all I could to please him. I licked and bathed his cock with my tongue. He was delicious, slightly salty, yet clean. I stroked and sucked for a few minutes, feeling him getting harder all the while pulsing in my mouth. “God, baby. I need to be inside you.”

  He made to flip me over, but I pushed him back down, and crawled on top of him. I slipped right onto him, impaling myself like some wanton creature. We both groaned together as I lowered myself onto him the second time more slowly. I began to increase the rhythm arching into him. He put one hand on my hip, and his other hand reached between us putting his palm on his belly and his thumb on my clit. As I moved and grinded, he stroked and rubbed. We took our time, going slowly making it last. We climbed and soared together and when we climaxed we did it together. I collapsed onto him, my legs tucked up on either side, with him still inside of me. He stroked my back as I listened to his heart rate begin to slow. I loved this feeling of closeness with him still inside of me after we had made love. It kept the connection alive, as if we were truly one. He let me stay that way for a full ten minutes before subtly pushing me to the side, and I curled into his arm, leg over his legs, my arm bent at the elbow, fingers swirling over his chest.

  “I really care about you, Monica,” he said and pressed a kiss into the top of my head. I loved him, but I still couldn’t tell him that.

  “I hope you know how much I feel for you, too, Victor,” I whispered into his chest.

  His answer was, “Yes, I think I do. I do.”

  We made love again that night, and he woke me early and we made love again. He left at six promising to call me every day at our usual time, and I began to get ready for my flight later that afternoon. I would have to hang on to the memory of this night for the next nine days. And, it was a good memory to have.

  Maine was beautiful in the summer. Big trees, oak, and maple, scented the air. The conifers, green all year round, interspersed with the other hues of green. My father usually rented a cabin when we came for a few days, at least, as he had a very small apartment in town and it was pretty cramped. He also liked to take us camping and fishing like we did when we were little. My dad was an awesome father. He may not have been a great husband, but when it came to being a dad, I would not have traded him for the world. He and my mother had divorced twice, believe it or not. He was a cheater and a womanizer; my mother told us when we were old enough to understand. He was just not satisfied with one woman, and he had broken my mom’s heart twice. She had kept us in the dark, because she was a great mom, who knew how much we loved our father and how much we needed him in our life. The final divorce had happened when I was in my early twenties, and I was able to handle it. I was just glad both of my parents were happy now.

  The first weekend in Maine dad took us shopping at the various outlets, and tried to buy us stuff like we were still children. Dad took Ana and me to visit with all our aunts, my dad’s six sisters, and some of our cousins. We also cleaned and scrubbed his small two bedroom apartment. He seriously needed a cleaning woman, and every year Ana and I would do a thorough spring cleaning in the summer for him.

  By Monday, we were on our way to a little fishing village on the Canadian American border. The place was called St. Stephens. It was adorable and reminded me somewhat of my weekend with Victor in Ft. Lauderdale. The cabin was cute, and it had three rooms, so Ana and I did not have to share, like we did at my dad’s apartment. The woman was still a bed hog. We had shared a bed growing up, too. The best part about the cabin was that it was right on the water facing the St. John’s River, and we could fish sitting in hand-made Adirondacks right in the bac
k yard. We did that the first night we got there catching up with the old man. I told him a bit about Victor. Just that I had met someone, and liked him, but did not know if it was going to be for the long term. Ana told him she had a couple of guys in the fire going, but I didn’t think it was true. She had been spending most of her free time with Teddy, aka bartender boy. Dad laughed and said she was too much like him, and his only hope for grandbabies was me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ana wince. She was hurt by that, but tried not to let it show. She couldn’t have kids, but our father did not know that. Her ex-husband had cheated on her, and given her a disease that had made her infertile. She had gotten treatment for it, but it had taken a severe toll on her. She had never told my father about it, she didn’t talk about it all. It was a shame because she loved kids, and dedicated her life to them in her work.

  Dad told us about his new girlfriend, her name was Leandra. He liked her, but she was pushy and wanted to move in with him. He liked his space, and did not want all her lady things cluttering up the place. After being divorced for nearly ten years, he liked his space. He was fifty eight and did not see himself getting married again as my mom had done.

  My mom had reconnected on the internet with an old flame four years ago and was blissfully happy with Tom, who took her out all the time, and loved to travel. My mom was actually sixty; she had retired early and both she and Tom spent more time away than at home reliving their youth.

  The next day, my dad took us on a tour of the local Ganong chocolate factory in the morning and on a whale watching excursion in the afternoon. It was magnificent to see those mighty creatures. We were on a small commercial fishing boat, maybe a sixty footer, when a grey humpback came splashing out of the water. The thing was massive, twice the size of our craft, and rocked the boat. When we got back to the cabin, dad grilled us up some peppercorn steaks and made baked potatoes.

  By Wednesday, we were on our way back to our dad’s place. Thursday, Ana and I spent the day visiting our friends from high school and college borrowing our father’s car. We spent the morning with Tammy, my dearest friend from college. In the afternoon we went to see Ana’s best friend, Louisa, and her daughter, Veronica.

  Friday, we went for a hike in the woods with our dad, played cards in the afternoon, and then had dinner at a restaurant where we met my dad’s new girlfriend. Ana and I were both anxious to get home, so we packed our bags for the return flight early the next morning. All in all, it was a nice visit, and we enjoyed ourselves, but the highlight of each and every day for me was the phone call I got from Victor each night. On the night before my return, he had told me, “I really, really miss you. I didn’t think I would miss you this much.” His words were sweet. He did sound like he was missing me. That had to be a good sign, right? I was wrong.

  Even though it was a five A.M. flight, I was happy about that. It just meant I would be seeing Victor soon. He had told me the night before that he would be able to pick me up at the Tampa International Airport at 11:00AM.

  When we got off the plane, we exited the terminal and took the shuttles to the main lobby. I saw Victor right away. He stood leaning against a pole looking so good in faded, ripped jeans, and grey shirt, I could have gobbled him right up. I was that excited to see him. It was funny, too, because he was also standing right next to hunky bartender boy and they did not know that the other one was picking up one of the sisters. Teddy was waving at my sister like crazy jumping up to see over the other passengers who had disembarked from the tram before us. I looked at my sister and giggled. She rolled her eyes at me and stated, “You’ve got your ride; I’ve got mine.” She shrugged her shoulders and opened her arms as the hunky bartender ran in to them, picked her up and swung her around. Shaking my head, I continued to walk to Victor, and got up on my tip toes to kiss him, but he turned his face and I caught him on the cheek just barely. He was looking around nervously. “Come on, babe. I don’t have a lot of time.” He turned and I, a little put off, followed him to the elevators.

  In the elevator without listening ears, a little miffed, and little envious at the way my sister had been met by Teddy, I remarked sarcastically, “Nice greeting.”

  “Sorry, I’m a . . .” he paused, “just a little distracted. I told Juli—I would be back as soon as I could, and that I was helping a friend move.” He looked at me then and I saw panic.

  “Who is Julie?” I asked trying not to sound suspicious.

  “A, a family member,” he replied and looked at his watch.

  “Oh, okay, but why did you tell your family you were helping someone move, when you were coming to get me?” I was confused now. He didn’t answer. Then a light went on. “You haven’t told your family about me,” I thought out loud.

  “Umm, I . . . no . . . I did not know where this was going . . . I don’t tell my family about my one night stands. Would you?” He snapped. I could see he was getting agitated.

  “Umm, my sister maybe, but no, not the rest,” I answered truthfully. Then added because I was hurt, “But, we are not a one night stand. You could have mentioned me later.”

  “You just never came up,” he said lamely as the elevator door opened to let other passengers in.

  When the elevator door opened onto the sixth floor he began to walk out peering at me to see if I was following. He shook his head, and he took my suitcase then. He just seemed to notice I had been dragging it along behind me this whole time. “Sorry, about that,” he said indicating the suitcase and turned a little bit abashedly. I followed in the parking lot practically jogging to keep up with his longer strides.

  “Victor, please slow down,” I stated breathlessly.

  “Oh, sorry,” he apologized again. “We’re here, anyway.” I looked around but did not see his car. “My car wouldn’t start so I had to borrow this one from someone in my family, this Chevy here.” I was standing behind a massive black Chevy Suburban.

  “Oh, okay,” I stammered.

  “That’s why I was so distracted. I was thinking about how and when I am going to find the time to get my car fixed.”

  “Uh-huh,” I murmured. “Anything I can do?” I asked. So, that was why he had been upset and rushed. It made some sense. I had never seen Victor like this, he looked so rattled. Stop questioning him, I told myself. He’s upset by the car, and he is a busy. This weekend he had moved things around to come get me, I told myself. I’d cut him some slack.

  He put my suitcase in the back of the Suburban, and shut the door, but not before I noticed some toys. It must be a family member or friend of his who had kids, I thought. Maybe this Julie person was his sister, and he had some nieces or nephews. He did not mention his family much, I didn’t even know if he had a sister, and Kat had warned me not to ask about his family, so I kept my mouth shut.

  But when we left the parking garage, I was startled again. He had mentioned going to his place for a few hours, and then taking me home later. But, he took the exit that led to the Veteran’s Expressway and my home. When I looked at him he winced, his eyes pleading with me to understand. “I’ve got to get the truck back, sorry, really sorry.” He looked like he meant it, too. I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” I said. “We always have Thursday.” I gave him a smile and hoped it looked genuine. He patted my knee and smiled back, then concentrated on his driving, both hands on the steering wheel. I turned to look out the passenger side window watching the other cars fly past on the Veteran’s. I imagined those families doing things together on this remarkably beautiful Saturday in June. I stared out the window the whole way home hiding the tears of regret that glided down my cheeks.

  I felt his hand caress my knee through the white capris I wore, but I couldn’t look at him. I just couldn’t. If I did, I knew I would lose it. I did reach for his hand and he held it there the rest of the ride home. The whole way was silent and neither one of us said a word. I knew he, too, was just as disappointed.

  At my door, he
placed my suitcase down, and said, “We’ll talk Thursday. Really talk, okay?”

  I remained silent and just nodded, not looking at him.

  He took my chin in his hands and lifted my face to meet his eyes, and the tears that I had managed to control began to fall again silently down my face. “I really, really missed you, baby.” He kissed me then, on the lips softly, nothing sensual, just tender.

  “I missed you too, Victor,” I managed to get out.

  “See you Thursday, Monica,” he whispered, let go of my chin, turned, and got in the truck. He waved goodbye as he backed out of my driveway and then I went inside. Alone.

  “What the hell?” Ana yelled, slamming her coffee cup on my kitchen table after I finished telling her about the fiasco that happened at the airport and about the ride home. I also told her about the fact that Victor had not called last night either. “Well, call him now. You deserve some answers!” she exclaimed with some force.

  “He was probably so upset about his car, that he just forgot,” I said lamely trying to defend him.

  It was Sunday night, and Ana stopped here before going to her place. She just got back from Clearwater and spending the day with Teddy and his family.

  I told her about the conversation I had with Kat. She sat ruminating for a bit, wiping at the coffee that had sloshed over the side of her cup. “Well, that puts a different spin on things,” she stated in a calmer tone.

  “What do you mean?” I asked with confusion while wiping my running nose. Two days of crying did that to a girl.

  “She is his friend, but girls don’t like to lie to other girls. For a while, I was beginning to think he was married,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  “Married!” I squeaked. “But, he lives with Kat! I’ve been there.” I shook my head. What a ludicrous conclusion to come to, I thought. She had only thought that because of her ex, and my dad, I told myself.

 

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