First Down

by Paula Mabbel

  He must have sensed her hesitation. “Do you want to go?” he asked.

  The way he held her firmly in place with his gaze…the way he smiled…she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. They both did. In a second his hands were all over her, exploring all her soft curves. He searched her eyes for consent and could see she still wasn’t sure.

  But then the way she looked at him in the next second…like she’d let him do whatever he wanted to her…that did it. He lifted her hands above her head to removed her dress in one sweeping motion.

  Her breasts, full and perky and clad in sexy black lace bra grazed against his bare chest. Immediately, he put his arms up, cupping one in each hand. Squeezing. Kneading.

  She threw her head back with a moan and then slipped one of her hands down the front of his slacks. He sucked her bottom lip between his and she relaxed against him again. Then they toppled over onto his bed. He pressed his full weight on her, and she spread her legs and started to grind slowly against him.

  He licked his lips and kissed up her thighs and her stomach, inch by inch, very slowly.

  She laced her fingers through his hair and tugged gently. When he looked up at her, she bit her bottom lip. He could tell she was enjoying this. He could tell she wanted it.

  He made one more round of kisses around her lower belly and hip area. And then slowly he slid her panties off and kissed back up her inner thighs.

  She lifted her hips slightly and inched them closer and closer to him, but he held his hand out to steady her. "Stay still," he said.

  Vanessa let out an exasperated moan and lowered her hips back down to the bed. Aiden took the time to kiss all around her inner thighs, the top of her mound, her lower stomach.

  Everywhere but.

  She grabbed at the sheets, tugging them, and he could tell she was about to lose it.

  Slowly and very gently, he offered her the very tip of his tongue. Her back arched immediately, and she let out a loud moan.

  "You like that? You want more of it?"

  She didn’t answer.

  He stopped. "I asked you a question."

  "Yes," she said, barely getting the word out.

  Then he buried his head between her legs. She was delicious, like a cross between an avocado and a mango. Creamy. Sweet. She fought back a moan and pushed her hips against his face. Her thighs started to vibrate on each one of his cheeks.

  He knew she was close. So, he sped up, flicking as fast as his tongue would go. She was full-on screaming now. Her whole body tensed up, and he knew she was about to come. The stream hit him in the next instant, flowing over his tongue and he lapped it all up like a thirsty dog. He gave her a minute to let her catch a breath, to let her body still the quivering.

  Then she looked up at him with unadulterated 'fuck me' eyes. And he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed her thighs and bent her legs back to her almost to her ears. Then he slid into her with one motion. Vanessa’s perfectly manicured nails sank into the flesh on his shoulders as she stretched to accommodate him. Aiden was up on her elbows now, pumping faster. As his thrusts got harder, Vanessa’s moans got louder. Her back was arching, her skin took on a beautiful flush, and he knew she was going to come again.

  "I can feel you coming," he whispered.

  Then her orgasm hit him in a wave. Her hands wrapped around his waist, pushing him deeper into her as she moved her hips up and against his.

  He collapsed on top of her and then rolled off, his arm still around her waist, while they both caught their breath. After a few minutes, she started to move but he reach out to her, tightened his grip on her. She nodded, understanding that he wanted her to stay the night with him. In the next minute, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  *****

  It was the smell of fresh coffee brewing that woke her.

  Vanessa stretched out in a bed that she realized in the next instant was not her own and for a second she panicked. Then she remembered, and smiled.

  No going back now, Vanessa.

  She got up and grabbed his shirt on the way out toward the smell of the coffee.

  He was standing by the stove in just his underwear, and he turned and smiled when he heard her coming.

  “Still here, I see,” he said with a wry grin.

  “Touche.”

  “I was half expecting to not find you here this morning.”

  “Can’t run this time,” she replied. “ My legs don’t fully work yet.”

  He slid a cup of coffee across the counter to her. Then he came around to give her a good morning kiss. “I hate to run,” he whispered. “But I have to be at work soon. You can stay here if you like.”

  “No. That’s OK. I’ll leave with you. I’ve got to get ready for my meeting.”

  He nodded and then disappeared into his room to get dressed. She followed suit and started the scavenger hunt for her own clothes.

  He reappeared a little while later dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt. He seemed to be struggling with his tie, so she went over to help him. He smiled down at me and then bent his head for a kiss.

  Then he grabbed her by the hand, and they headed for the door. “I’ll have my driver drop you home,” he said.

  In the car, he sat close to her, resting his hand on her knee and then slowly sliding it inch by inch up her dress.

  She stopped him when his thumb just touched the trim on her panties. “Behave,” she whispered.

  “Why should I?”

  “Because,” she said. “You’ll mess up your work clothes.”

  “I have more at the office.”

  They laughed at this. Him pawing at her in the backseat of a vehicle like a horny teenager.

  A minute later, they pulled up in front of his office. “I can walk from here,” she said. She moved to get out of the car, but he caught her wrist.

  “When can I see you again?”

  She smiled. “You broke into my apartment remember? So I suppose the answer to that question is whenever you want.”

  She gave him one last kiss and then got out of the car.

  Once she was back inside her apartment, she permitted herself a small smile. And then she couldn’t stop smiling. Aiden English certainly knew how to show a lady a good time. But still, she couldn’t figure him. Why be so nice to her?

  A knock on the door broke her out of her reverie. At first, Vanessa was scared. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. She wondered if this was all just an elaborate trick. If Aiden had taken her out, wined her, dined her, and then gotten her back into bed for one more screw before he had her thrown in the clink.

  “Who is it?” she called warily.

  “Fed Ex ma’am. Package for you.”

  Vanessa frowned. She hadn’t ordered anything. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she hurried to the door. She signed for the box, and the pimply face courier smiled and disappeared back down the hallway. Vanessa opened the box. There was another black velvet box inside and on top of it was a note. t was written in a large, loopy hand. See you tonight?, the note said. Wear this.

  Vanessa opened the box and gasped. It was the necklace. She grinned and bit her lip.

  Oh, Aiden. You devil you.

  ******

  THE END

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  Here is a FREE bonus 9000 word romance story “Knocked Up By The Russian Mafia Billionaire” by B. Angelica Ellmoor.

  Knocked Up By The Russian Mafia Billionaire

  What a beautiful day, I thought, sighing.

  The sun was shining bright over the park outside the studio, making the colors pop, a delightful inspiration for me.

  With my hands on my hips, I took a moment to admire the landscape before getting on with arranging the canvases for my class.

  The door
creaked and I heard the familiar click-clack of Debby’s stilettos. I always told her she had an addiction to high heels but she never listened. I shook my head at the thought and turned.

  “Oh, you’re already here,” she said instead of a greeting.

  “Yep, always earlier than you, my dear.”

  “Gee, you make me sound like such a bad teacher!” she joked.

  I shrugged as if to say “What can I do if I’m such a good student?”

  She left her shiny purse on her desk and joined me to prepare the art supplies for class. We worked in silence for a while but she just couldn’t help herself.

  “God, I’m amazed by your hair! How do you even make your braids so freaking thin?”

  I craned my neck to one side and gave her a “really?” glance. I was, however, impressed that she had managed to hold it until after we'd mounted the rest of the canvases.

  “Really, how do you do it?”

  “It’s pretty simple, in fact. I don’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Someone braided my hair, Debby. And yes, it takes a painful lot of time. But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

  I winked and she gave me a grimace.

  “I can’t believe you’re not using extensions,” she went on.

  “I don’t need them. My hair is long enough and, besides, I don’t want to worry when I sit on a toilet.”

  She laughed, and by her expression I knew she actually picturing the scene. I shook my head, amazed by her childishness. How did we ever become such good friends?

  “Oh, Dianne, I wish I had your hair.”

  “Girl, you already have curly hair.”

  “I know, but it’s not like black curly. There’s something…magical about your curls. I could never braid my hair like that and not lose half of it when it came out. You know what I mean?”

  “Sure. Have you found a model yet?”

  I felt like the conversation needed a change of subject or we could run into the risk of Debby getting depressed she didn’t have the right kind of curls. It was a big issue for her.

  “Oh, yeah!”

  “What? Really?”

  She nodded, a mischievous smile forming on her lips.

  “Someone agreed to stay still for an hour for no pay? What did you do, find some sort of attention-seeking…individual?” I stopped myself from using the usual word, as a group of students came in.

  Debby giggled.

  “No, dear. It’s a friend.”

  “Ooh, intriguing!”

  “One of my exes,” she threw in, before walking to her desk, leaving me with my jaw near the floor.

  I followed her, in need of more information.

  “Which is it? Mike? The one who was obsessed with the gym? Or the redhead? Is your husband OK with this?” I had so many questions.

  “Oh, you don’t know him, Di,” she waved me off.

  “That’s preposterous. I knew all your exes. You wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you?”

  “It was before we met, don’t worry. Of course I wouldn’t. Anyway, he’s coming in today so I need to tell the class. Would you mind?”

  Walking to my canvas, I shot her a scolding look for not letting me know about this before everyone else. That mischievous expression persisted on her face.

  She checked her wristwatch.

  “OK, class, I know everyone is not here, but you can spread the good news when the others arrive. We finally have a model!” Cheers and various other manifestations interrupted her. “Settle down, lovelies! I know we’re all happy that we can make it to the competition deadline but don’t lose focus, alright? We need to make our best work if we want to look even slightly decent. We’re competing against bigger and better schools of art so keep that in mind. OK? Now I have to make a phone call to confirm that our model doesn’t bail on us.”

  She left the classroom without so much as a glance at me. I got the impression she was planning something unholy, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it somehow involved me.

  I didn’t have time to worry about the issue, though, as fellow students kept bothering me with their happiness. Soon, I was too excited about the competition to remember why I was upset with Debby.

  She came back and sat on her desk.

  “Is everyone here?” she asked, raising her voice over the noise of the class.

  “Kaminsky’s missing,” someone shouted from the back.

  “As usual. Well, then, I guess it’s time to introduce our generous model.”

  I held my breath, curious to bits about this mysterious ex of hers.

  The door opened and he walked in. Tall and slender, he looked like they gave him a child’s robe for this class.

  I licked my lips, grateful that this class was for human proportions in nude form. I caught Debby’s eyes and she was grinning too.

  He waved a hand, long, strong fingers dancing delightfully in the air. I suddenly felt like holding on to that hand.

  “This is Peter, everyone. Peter, this is everyone. We’re really grateful you accepted to model for us.”

  “Damn right we are,” I whispered, a little louder than I should have, which prompted the female majority of the class to cheer embarrassingly.

  Peter seemed unfazed, the sum of his reaction simply being a polite smile, like he was used to this sort of adulation.

  Debby glanced again at her watch.

  “OK, we really need to get on with this. Time is of the essence, lovelies.”

  Another round of cheers as he lost his robe and we started sketching. For some reason, though, work seemed slower today. We seemed distracted by something.

  Debby, shamelessly grinning, perused the class, making various comments at some canvases. She finally stopped at my side, deliberately silent, like she wanted to give me the chance to admit she had done a marvelous job with this.

  I eventually gave in.

  “Nice job, Debby.”

  “I know, right?” She could barely contain her boastfulness.

  “Is he wearing colored lenses?” I asked, after a while.

  “Nope.”

  I looked at him again. It couldn't be true. That blue could only be artificial, surely.

  And then I wondered about the unfairness on Earth. Why did some have to look so gorgeous while others had to struggle with all sorts of undesirable features? I mean, really? He looked like a freaking god! Oh, how cruel life is, I thought, shaking my head.

  My philosophical ponderings were interrupted by his perfect pose. My eyes lingered over his form, sighing.

  The way the light touched his fair skin made me jealous, the shadows it made around his perfectly sculpted abs a reason for countless hard swallows.

  His black hair, styled just modern enough but in no way looking like he wanted to emulate some trendy pop star, looked like it was sucking up the sunlight like some sort of trap of darkness. I shook my head again, trying not to lose my mind with such menial details. But damn, those details, I thought.

  “He’s Russian,” Debby whispered conspiratorially. “Piotr. And he’s a mobster. A Russian mobster.”

  I snapped my head to her, utterly shocked. She winked and left me with my mouth wide open. Again.

  She didn't come within earshot again for the rest of the class. “What is she playing at?” I asked myself.

  By the end of what felt like the longest hour I've ever spent sketching, I was feeling properly stupid. The point of a model was to be looked at, analyzed, even creepily stared at, but I couldn't. I had the feeling I shouldn't, that it was inappropriate to take in that much beauty. It wasn't like I would've stared at a guy in a bar, for goodness’ sake! He was my model. Why was I feeling so strange?

  When Debby announced that we should get ready to finish, I just stopped, left my canvas and went outside. I needed some air so I opened a window in the large hallway.

  The wind was starting to blow around the fallen leaves, making them dance in a thousand shades of red. I sighed.

&n
bsp; “I think you've been single for too long, lovely,” I heard Debby behind me.

  “What's your point?”

  “Aw, come on, don't be like that!”

  I turned to face her, my lips pursed in indignation. It made her giggle.