The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam)

by Liv Bennett

  “Oh.” He narrows his eyes, perhaps trying to make out what I’m doing.

  Come on, you silly thing. How difficult can it be to understand that I want to role play. I can’t be me, myself, to have a shot at sex. I have to become an entirely different person, even if it is only pretending. But, my good mood will, without doubt, be ruined if I have sit down and explain him what goes on in my mind.

  “Am I going to die?” he asks. His question isn’t as good as I hoped it to be, but at least he is playing along.

  “I must administer some more tests to find out the severity of your situation.” I pull the stethoscope and walk slowly toward him. I let out a relieved breath, when I notice his chest is heaving heavily up and down, just like mine is.

  CHAPTER 8 - ADAM

  Just when I’ve decided to call it a night, Taylor comes out in a nurse’s uniform, looking so hot and sexy that I couldn’t have dreamed it even in my wildest fantasies. I drink in the dress that is so short that I could make out her red thong as she walks toward me, taking my breath away. And her rebellious breasts hang like they’ll pop out any minute. To top it off, those pink thigh highs. Icing on the cake. As if she knows my weakness for colorful thigh highs on beautiful, long legs.

  Can this night get any better?

  But, I shouldn’t jump the gun, yet. What if she changes her mind and dumps me with the most painful hard-on. Speaking of hard-on, all my blood is pooled in my groin. I should wear larger pants around her, or I’ll make a fool of myself every time I get aroused, which is every time I’m around her.

  But, for now, I have no option but to pick up her cues and obey her wishes.

  Her eyes are daring me, evaluating me, teasing me. She stops in front of me, pushes my knees apart with her hand, and places her knee on the sofa between my legs, slightly pressing on my hard-on with her thigh. It takes every ounce of control I have not to grab her, pull her under me, and ride her hard, as if it’s the last time I’ll ever have sex.

  As though her torture is not enough, she unbuttons my shirt all the way down and puts the icy stethoscope on my bare chest. The cold metal makes me aware of the flaming heat of my body, all for this fragile woman with large breasts that are now only inches away from my face. I don’t know whether I should stare at them, until I explode without even taking off my pants, or tune out to control my erection. However, even if I manage to close my eyes and tune out her breasts, her sweet strawberry scent filling my lungs will suffice to throw me over the edge.

  She moves the stethoscope across my chest toward my heart with care and precision and then down to my abs. I’m sure my crazy heartbeats scared her off.

  “What do I have?” I ask to distract myself.

  She ignores my question and orders me to take off my shirt. I obey and shrug out of it with a quick move. I wish she’d take off that little dress of hers, too. Without saying a word, she starts examining my back.

  “Am I going to die?” I immediately regret shooting another silly question. I’m officially an idiot who severely lacks fantasy. Next on my to-do list; start watching Grey’s Anatomy or other shows about medical professionals.

  She lifts her hand and begins playing with her lower lip. I have to roll my eyes at the sexiness of such a simple move. “You have a rare type of blood disease caused by a defect in the hemoglobin formation.”

  “What?” Her line is so elaborate that I find myself considering the risks of getting such an illness.

  “But, there is no need to worry; its cure is very simple,” she says with a calming voice, like you’d see in health professionals. Damn, she’s good! “But, I’m not sure if your wife will agree on the treatment procedure.”

  Either she has a born talent for acting or she’s done this before; coming up with a scenario like this. Maybe with Jack or one of the twenty six lucky men she slept with? Actually, twenty seven, because blow jobs count as sex, in my book. Twenty seven men enjoyed her beautiful body when I was thinking she needed time to grieve. Twenty seven fucking penises violated her innocence.

  Pangs of jealousy rush through my body, tightening my chest, and my breathing becomes laborious. I want to go after those men to castrate them, cut their hands off, and take their eyes out while I’m on it. My hands are trembling. If I don’t get myself under control, she’ll give up on our little game before the real action starts.

  “My wife will agree to anything you recommend, for the sake of my health,” I say.

  She shakes her head, her eyebrows frowning. “My hands are tied without a written consent from her or an oral consent over the phone.”

  Consent? Wife? What am I supposed to do now? “Here is my phone. You can call her.” I pull out my phone from the pocket of my jacket, which is lying down on the couch beside me, and hand it over to her.

  She lifts it to her ear as she takes a couple of steps back, still facing me, and places her foot on edge of the coffee table, revealing the semi-transparent, red thong underneath. Mesmerized, I watch her thighs and waxed sex, completely ignoring the strange looks she must be giving me. It takes only pulling up a skirt to completely shut off my brain. As simple as that. I have no option but to agree with everything the extreme feminists say about us men, and our animalistic sides.

  Yet, her plans to torture me don’t seem to be coming to an end any time soon because she starts speaking to my imaginary wife on the phone, “Mrs. Garnett. I’m sorry to inform you of the terrible health conditions your husband finds himself in. His blood tests reveal that his illness is much more severe than we originally thought. So, he has to be treated immediately for him to recover… Yes, the procedure is very simple. The malformed cells will be sucked out of his penis.”

  Sucked out of his penis? Sucked out of MY penis?

  I tear my eyes away from her thong to see her face to confirm that what I’ve just heard is true.

  “I understand your concern,” she continues speaking and plays with her nails as if bored. “The procedure is one hundred percent safe and has no danger what-so-ever.”

  Yeah, right. Except maybe a cardiac arrest.

  “Yes, we will. Thank you for your cooperation.” She places the phone on the coffee table and approaches me.

  “So, she agrees to the treatment?” I ask as if I give a fucking shit about anyone agreeing on anything that will happen between Taylor and me, never mind an imaginary wife.

  “Yes, she loves you. She wants the best for you.”

  “Am I going to get the best… treatment?”

  “You surely will.” She moves toward me, taking my breath away with each step, kneels down in front of me, and runs a finger on my erection before unzipping my pans.

  How many times I’ve dreamed about this, her kneeling in front of me, her long fingers brushing my groin, her mouth preparing to suck my insides out. Never once have the dreams ended with me holding her hands to stop her.

  “No,” I force myself to speak as softly and gently as possible in order not to hurt her feelings. “If your mouth comes anywhere near my erection I’ll explode right away.” And it’ll be the literal case of blown into her face.

  She looks at me, lines forming on her forehead, and lips pursed tightly together. I can see in her expression the prudent calculations going on in her mind, and I fear she’ll conclude I’m not as much fun to play with as she originally thought. She’s so fucking sexy I doubt things would be much different if I’d jerked off a number of times before meeting with her.

  She gets to her feet with one move and her eyes lock onto something behind me. What the hell have I done? She’ll back out—it’s written all over her face—and I’ll have to finish myself off with my bare hands, rather than her exclusive mouth.

  My heart sinks as I watch her turn her back to me and step away. I deserve to be excommunicated from manhood for declining a blow job offer from such a seductive woman. Much to my astonishment, though, she stops short and bends down to slide off her thong. Her dress is too short to cover her bare ass, giving me an unfor
gettable, mind-fucking view of her pink slit. Who am I kidding? I’ll explode just by watching her.

  She spins around and faces me again, before throwing the thong at my face. I catch it and feel the moist on the fabric. She desires me, too, like I desire her. I have to focus hard to make this as pleasurable as possible for her. My hands long to touch her down there and my mouth to taste her sweet juices, but the longer I wait, the harder it’ll be to control my erection.

  I must have her. Now. I can’t wait any longer, but she takes her sweet time as she moves toward me, her hands lingering as they unbutton her dress with each step, revealing her beautiful breasts. When she’s finally done with the unbuttoning, she takes off the dress and tosses it to the floor. She gestures at my pants with her index finger. I stand and yank down my pants and boxers in a flash. She approaches me, her bare breasts brushing mine, and pushes me back down onto the couch. Fully naked, save for the thigh highs and the high heels, she parts her legs, still standing. Her pussy is pink, and swollen, and glistering with dampness.

  “I need to touch you there.” I look up her face. “Will you let me?”

  Her response comes as a brief humming. I lift my hand to stroke her thigh up toward her sex and glide my hand between her legs. She’s waxed bare and smooth all around, and I think of taking a picture of her completely naked as a proof that this isn’t just a dream. She stands rigidly, except for her chest moving up and down too quickly.

  My cock twitches and throbs with the anticipation of having her wet core wrapping around me like a glove. I slide my forefinger along her folds and dip it inside, my eyes searching her expression. She flinches with the invasion but doesn’t move away.

  Her eyes fall closed. Her head tilts back a little. She wriggles her hips with slow motions, her inside muscles rhythmically clenching and unclenching around my finger, as if it’s her mouth suctioning it. Her breasts, two large globes, heave with every breath, her nipples ridged. I’m torn between sinking my cock deep inside her right now and continuing rubbing her with my finger until she climaxes. Although she might just turn me down once she’s satiated, it’ll help her stretch a little for the real friction. I circle her waist with my free arm to close the gap between us and mouth one breast. I suck, tease, knead, and bite it; the lightly salty taste of her skin makes my pulse race.

  It doesn’t take me long to push her over the edge and the spasms inside her shoot in succession like fireworks. Her lips part and her cheeks flash red, the exquisite sight firing jolts of heat and craving directly to my balls. Before the spasms subside, I pull out my finger and grip her hips as she positions herself astride me over the couch. Her eyes now open and fixed on mine, she slowly slides down onto my shaft.

  She’s so tight I’d think she was a virgin if I didn’t know about Jack and the twenty seven fucking men before me. Shit. If only I could erase her past.

  Pain is surfacing on her irises as she begins to take my length inside of her, each inch earning little groans. She cries out and stabs her nails into my shoulders when my cock fully sinks inside her.

  Finally! There is no going back now, and both of us know it.

  She is so wet, her juices are practically dripping down my balls. Can this get any better? Her eyes never leaving mine, she begins riding me, first slowly, then gaining speed and intensity. I have to squeeze my butt to keep myself from coming too early; but it’s so fucking hard when she moans into my mouth and her breasts sway on my chest with every move. When she digs her nails deeper into my skin and twists her hips around me. When her vagina is tightening around my shaft, it’s as if she’s begging me to coat her insides.

  Her entire body is shaking, and she grazes her lower lip with her teeth while gazing somewhere behind me.

  Oh, God, please don’t make her scream Jack’s name!

  I cup her round ass to thrust harder and faster until her screams become deafening, until I make her lose her mind, just the way she did to me. I tremble with lust and the need to mark her and erupt like a volcano, exploding deep inside her, watching the pleasure roll across her face together with the tears in her eyes. Our ragged breaths crash, and she buries her face in my shoulder. No word comes out of her mouth, but loud, catlike screams that assure me I’m not the only one who’s had an intense orgasm.

  CHAPTER 9 - TAYLOR

  I did it. I finally had sex with another man. And what sex!

  I collapse on Adam’s sweaty chest and lie still, listening to his mad heartbeats until I catch my breath. The role playing with him was more arousing that I’d ever expected. I even reached orgasm. Twice. That’s one hell of an achievement in the last three years, besides that embarrassing finger fucking in public. Keeping my eyes open and solely concentrating on Adam’s face definitely helped me stay focused on him and forget about Jack for once. I should keep that in mind for the next time.

  If there will be a next time.

  “You blew my mind away,” Adam says between his heavy breaths. “I don’t even mind the twenty six douchebags who did this before me.”

  I roll down on the couch next to him and pull the cushion over me to cover my breasts and pelvis. “I was messing with you. There’re no twenty-six douchebags that you should worry about.”

  “Seriously?” He straightens in his seat and stares down to me. “So, it’s just Jack and me?”

  Hearing Jack’s name from Adam’s mouth when we’re both naked and wet with each other’s fluids makes my stomach turn in knots. He can’t compare himself with Jack because he’ll lose the competition even before it starts. And hell if he thinks he can replace Jack.

  “I’ll go take a quick shower.” I snatch the nurse costume from the floor to toss it into the laundry basket and stride to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I briefly towel dry my hair, snuggle into my bathrobe, and go to my bedroom to get a pillow and a blanket for Adam. It’s past two, and we’re both under the influence of alcohol. I don’t want him to stay, but it wouldn’t be fair to tell him to go, either.

  I find Adam lying on the couch, his eyes closed. The sticky spots on the couch between his legs tell me I’ll have to get the cushion covers washed the first thing tomorrow. Maybe I should get everything he touched washed.

  He jerks and opens his eyes when I try to cover him with the blanket.

  “You can stay if you want.” I force a smile.

  “With pleasure, Ma’am.”

  “But, you’re gonna have to sleep here on the couch.” The second room in the condo was Jack’s office and I haven’t come around to turn it into a guest room. The chances are I’ll never be able to. So, for now, the couch will have to do.

  “Fine with me. May I use the shower?” Adam stands up, still fully naked and not even a bit ashamed.

  I nod, working hard to not look at his penis but, even so, I notice it hanging thick and long between his muscular thighs. No wonder it nearly tore me apart when he thrust it into me. My sex is still sore, but I’d rather have this soreness than no feeling at all.

  I place the pillow and the blanket on the couch, when he leaves for the bathroom, and busy myself with towel-drying my hair while listening to him have a shower.

  He comes out with a green towel wrapped around his hips—Jack’s towel—his damp hair hanging over his eyes. I concentrate on his firm muscles to keep myself from commenting on Jack’s towel, but I can’t help the sick feeling growing inside my stomach. I’ll have to replace all Jack’s towels and other belongings so that strangers like Adam don’t use them.

  I rub circles over my stomach to ease the pain. “Help yourself to the food in the kitchen if you get hungry.”

  “Thank you.” He takes a step toward me, his lips twisting with a rueful smile. “This was by far the best sex I’ve ever had.” In a split second, he leans down and places a kiss on my lips. I wouldn’t have let him kiss me if I’d seen it coming. And, now that he kissed me, I don’t know how I should feel about it. It wasn’t one of his sensual, seducing kisses. I wouldn’t have been bothered if he’d k
issed me to try it for a second round. But, this kiss is affectionate, as if saying I care about you and I’m here for you. I don’t want his emotions. I don’t want any men’s emotions.

  Just sex. Simple, senseless sex is all I want and need to be able to get Jack off my mind and get on with my life. My stomach is knotting and twisting at the fresh memories of having Adam inside me. His scent is spreading everywhere like a gas bomb, taking over Jack’s.

  “Good night.” I pull away, and cover my mouth, swallowing the puke back down that is halfway in my throat, and hurry to the bathroom. I kick the door closed as I kneel in front of the toilet bowl and let my body expulse the most expensive food that I’ve ever eaten. I should have seen this coming and spared Adam the money.

  Adam!

  He is at the door, knocking. Without waiting for me to reply—my mouth is too occupied with puke to say anything—he yanks it open and dashes inside. Great, the only missing piece of tonight’s fun was vomiting in front of him. Now, we’re truly intimate.

  “Oh, my—” He begins but can’t end it. My puke smells horrendous. At least, I won’t need to worry about his scent taking over everything. He finds the package of wet wipes, pulls out a handful of them, and starts rubbing my head with them. The cold feels good and I’m glad I bought non-scented ones, or his nice gesture would prompt another round of puking. I take some wipes from his hand to clean my face and lean back to the wall for support.

  He flushes the toilet. “Was it the food? I’m so sorry that I took you there. Maybe your stomach isn’t used to all those flavors.”

  “I don’t think it was the food.” It was you but I can’t tell you that without hurting you.

  “You… you can’t get pregnant that fast either, right? Although it’d be fantastic to get into the Guinness Record book for the quickest sperm in the history of mankind…” He gives me a fearful smile. I can’t help but smile, too.