by Tim ORourke
Chapter Nine
I took the pizza from the oven and cut it into slices. Michael lent against the frame of the kitchen door, watching me. He had opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. I handed him a plate with some of the pizza on it, and in return, he passed me a glass of the wine.
"Thanks," I said, brushing past him and stepping into the living room. I sat at one end of the sofa and he took a seat at the other. We had talked little on the way back from the beach. I don't know if it was me, but there was a kind of nervous tension between us - almost like we had unfinished business between us. I guess in a way, we did. Michael was fit, and there was no denying I was attracted to him. What woman wouldn't be turned on by his strong determined features, soft curly hair, green eyes, and well-defined chest and arms? His butt was good too - firm-looking beneath his jeans.
With a sudden imaginary flash of me gripping that butt as I pushed him into me, Michael looked up and said, "What you thinking about?"
"Huh?" I said, pushing that image of him between my thighs from my mind.
"You look deep in thought," he said, then took a bite of his pizza.
Trying to think of something to say, I flushed scarlet and said, "What I don't understand is how I've lived in this godforsaken town my whole life but haven't seen you before until the other day?"
"How old are you, Sydney?" he asked.
"Twenty-one in a couple of months," I told him, sipping my wine.
"Okay, so I would have been about the same age as you when I left Cliff View," he said, as if working out a sum in his head. "So I'm thirty now, that would have made you ten years old. "
I looked at him.
"Wow, I don't know if I like the sound of that," he half-smiled. "It makes me sound like a pervert. "
"Are you?" I shot back smiling.
"Am I what?" he asked.
"A perv?" I said, fixing my eyes on his.
"What do you think?"
"Like I said, I've never seen or met you before until the other day," I reminded him. "This is the third time I've seen you in less than a week. Are you following me?"
"You came back to the farm, remember?" he said, placing his empty plate on the floor by the sofa.
"To take your statement," I said.
"Was that the only reason?" he shot back, then took another sip from the wine glass.
There was a pause, then downing what was left in the bottom of my own glass, I looked at him and said, "No, it wasn't the only reason I came back to the farm. "
Inching his way along the sofa towards me, Michael placed his wine glass on the floor so both of his hands were free. "So why did you come back?" he asked, and again, there was that intensity in his eyes I had first seen a few days ago.
"The same reason you came looking for me today," I said, matching his stare.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, the gap between us now paper-thin.
"You came looking for me because you wanted to finish what we started the other day," I whispered, those feelings I had previously felt flooding back. That sweet warm sensation spreading from my stomach and down between my legs.
"Is there anything wrong with that?" he said, placing one hand gently on the base of my neck, pulling me close so I could feel his breath against my face.
"No, but I'm not looking for anything serious," I whispered into his ear, one of my hands running up the length of his muscular thigh. "There is a lot in my life I need to square away. I need some time to think. . . "
"I don't want to marry you, Sydney," he whispered back. "I just want to fuck you. Is that so bad?" he said softly against my cheek, his fingers losing themselves in my hair.
"I guess not. . . " I started. Before I'd had a chance to finish, Michael had pressed his lips over mine.
I opened my mouth slightly, but it was enough for Michael to slip his tongue inside. His mouth tasted of sweet wine, and I slid my tongue over his. He explored the inside of my mouth, our tongues pushing and prodding against each other as if acting out what it was other parts of our body really wanted to do. Taking his hands from my hair, he pulled at my sweater. Breaking our kiss and raising my arms above my head, he pulled my sweater free, tossing it across the room. He looked down at my breasts. Gently cupping them in his hands, Michael lent forward, running his tongue over them. I reached down and loosened the belt which held his jeans in place. My fingers brushed over the front of them and I could feel he was already hard beneath the blue faded denim. He shifted as if kneeling up, so I could undo the button fly. The buttons popped open beneath my trembling fingers. I wasn't scared or nervous, just turned on.
Michael arched his back as I fumbled the last button free. I reached inside, my fingers curling around him. He felt hard. Michael groaned. With the fingers of one hand curled around him, I pulled Michael's jeans down further. Placing my hands flat against his chest, I pushed him back onto the sofa. He reached for my breasts again and I slapped his hands away.
He looked at me wide-eyed.
"No," I said.
"But I want to hold. . . "
"Do as I say," I snapped at him. I knew from what had happened between us the previous day, he liked the idea of me being a cop and being in control.
Michael looked at me, not knowing if I were joking, acting, or being serious. As if trying to test me, he reached for my breasts again.
"I said, no!" I hissed at him as he grew harder in my hand. He was secretly enjoying me taking charge of him.
Closing his eyes, Michael finally lay back on the sofa in submission.
I got up and stood, looking down at him.
"Don't let go," he murmured.
"Be quiet!" I snapped. "Don't you dare tell me what to do!" Michael lay flat on his back, his cock standing up from the centre of him, looking solid and unbreakable. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," he groaned, reaching for himself, now so desperate to be released that he would happily do it himself.
I slapped his hand away, and he groaned - in pleasure or frustration, I didn't know which. I looked at his muscular frame, his thick round shoulders like two giant cannonballs, and his perfectly toned stomach, and muscular thighs. I had total control over him and it turned me on.
I slid my jeans down over my hips. Michael heard the rustle of my clothes and opened his eyes, wanting to see my naked body.
"Did I say you could open your eyes?" I breathed.
"No," he murmured, shutting them tight again.
"You do as I say or just get out. "
Michael flinched at what I said and I became more excited.
I knelt down beside him, and taking hold of him again, I slowly eased my hand up and down. I did this until Michael was groaning with pleasure. I stopped.
"What!" Michael gasped, opening his eyes again and looking straight at me.
"Did I say you could look at me?" I hissed at him.
"Don't stop what you were doing," he begged.
"I've changed my mind," I said with a sly smile. "I don't think I want you anymore. "
"You can't just stop!" he breathed.
"So what are you gonna do about it?" I teased.
With a crazed look of desire on his face, Michael snatched hold of my hand and leapt up. "I'll show you what I'm gonna do about it!" he barked, gripping me by my shoulders and spinning me around. Placing his weight against me, he forced me over the arm of the sofa. Pushing one of his legs between mine, he forced them open.
"You're not going to fuck me," I groaned, the tip of his cock brushing against me, all the while just wanting him.
"I'll fuck you if I want to," he grunted, pushing his cock fully into me.
I cried out in pleasure, as he knotted his hands in my hair, forcing my face down into the sofa cushions. He jerked his powerful hips backwards and forwards as he thrust in and out of me, pushing me ever closer to that moment of ecstasy. I could feel myself growing hotter, a knot of pleasure unravelling, spreading out f
rom my core and throughout my body.
"Is this the best you can do?" I groaned.
"I'll fucking teach you to tease me," he breathed heavily, pushing ever harder and deeper into me. Michael's strokes became frantic, as he bucked his hips backwards and forwards. With each hard thrust, the heat inside me grew more intense until my whole body felt as it were on fire. My arms, fingertips, legs, and toes began to tingle and I gripped the back of the sofa as the feeling of pleasure inside of me and between my legs became unbearable. Unable to stand it any longer, I felt my whole body spasm. At the same time, Michael arched his back, locked rigid, and then seemed to tremble violently. Both of us cried out in utter pleasure. Michael began to slow, until he finally stopped.
We collapsed onto the sofa, me on my front, Michael on his back, our legs entwined. All I could hear was the sound of our heavy breathing, both fighting to catch our breath.
"That was fucking. . . unbelievable. . . " Michael finally said in a series of shallow breaths. "No one has ever got me going like that before. I've never wanted to fuck a woman so badly in my life. "
I rolled over onto my side, my skin feeling hot, tingly, and alive. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," I smiled at him, my fingertips trailing across his chest.
"You're not like any woman I've been with before," he said, glancing sideways at me, his chest rising and falling as he still fought to catch his breath. "You're kinda complex. "
"How come?" I asked back.
"You have some crazy issues. "
"You think?" I said, getting up. I pulled my sweater back over my head, and put on my panties, which were lying next to my discarded jeans on the floor. I left the room.
"Where are you going?" he called after me.
"To the bathroom," I whispered, closing the door behind me before he had a chance to see the tears which were spilling down my face.