“No,” I said adamantly, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Simone, it’s really late and really dark. Now, I can take you in the mornin’ to your car or wherever you want, but you look exhausted and I think you should get some sleep.”
I huffed stubbornly and shrugged in agreement. “I guess it wouldn’t kill me.”
“By the way, the couch is for me. I got a guest bed across from my room, but I’m sleepin’ out here so you don’t fret.”
I half-smiled, shaking my head.
“You’re either the nicest or dumbest guy I’ve ever met. You don’t know me from a can of paint, and… well, I guess it’s my way of trying to say thank you.”
“Funny way of sayin’ thanks,” he smirked, tilted his head in understanding. “You’re very much welcome, Miss Parker. I will see you in the mornin’.”
Once in the guest room, I’d changed out of my day clothes and into a set of floral print pajamas. If there was any chance of Matt being attracted to me before, it’d be gone the second he saw me in this eyesore. My body was tired, but my mind was too active for any sleeping to take place. I was in a stranger’s home – a nice, kind, hospitable stranger, but still a stranger – miles away from my own household. I figured I would be in for it this week, but the Karma gods made sure I got one hell of an appetizer in the form of my car troubles before the main course – the reunion.
I heard Matt walk past and enter the adjacent room. I was sorting through old e-mails on my laptop when the sound of squeaking faucets and water hitting against the porcelain tub floor distracted me – not an aural distraction, but a delicious visual of water cascading down his chiseled body.
I gnawed at my lower lip and leaned against the headboard with a thud. The electric currents of arousal pulsing through me were long overdue, but ill timed.
Get it together, Simone. You haven’t had sex in a few years and you’re hard up, but damn sure not enough to do it with a complete stranger.
My mental reality check seized all the naughty and highly unrealistic fantasies playing in the forefront of my mind. I closed my laptop lid and almost switched off the nightstand lamp when I saw a framed picture sitting underneath.
I held the metal frame and blew softly at the glass surface, watching dust billow from it. Matt, a few years younger with a wirier frame, had his arm wrapped tight around a petite, African-American woman, who looked to be no older than him in the picture. Hmm.
I put it down and switched off the light. I would attempt to get some rest, but part of me knew it wasn’t going to happen.
I threw in the towel after forty five minutes of restless tossing and turning. I climbed out of bed, cautiously turned the doorknob and peered outside into the hallway’s darkness.
The glare from Matt’s flat-screen TV washed over his motionless body. I felt guilty, seeing him sprawled out on a couch that was way too small to accommodate his stature. My eyes remained glued to his exposed, chiseled upper body.
Even in peaceful sleep, he was a heartbreaker.
I opened the door wide enough to slip out with minimal noise. My dry throat called for a drink of water, so I crept into the kitchen and fumbled through his kitchen cabinets, looking for glasses. I turned on the tap and filled the cup, drinking it where I stood.
“How you holdin’ up?”
I jumped, horrified when my slippery hand let go of the glass cup. It hit the floor and shattered, shards scattering across the tiled floor.
I looked at Matt and silently asked for forgiveness.
“Don’t worry,” he assured, swept up the broken glass and deposited the contents in the trash.
“I’m so sorry,” I heaved a weary sigh. “I’m just wound so tight. My nerves are on pins and needles, thinking about everything. I feel like my brain’s being stretched like taffy.”
Matt took a step forward and put his hands on my shoulders. “So stop doin’ so much thinkin’ and just feel for a while. Trust me; I know what it’s like to have your mind work against you. It’s difficult, but not impossible to separate one from the other.”
I’m not quite sure what broke the hardened shell of my timidity. It could have been the simplistic profoundness of Matt’s advice, but I’m more inclined to believe it was the stunning, half-naked man with baby blue eyes and disheveled, messy blonde hair trying to console me.
Simone, the reserved schoolteacher who analyzed every little thing to death, finally shut down her mind to listen to her neglected physical desires.
I covered his large palms with my own and watched his crystalline irises sharpen in surprise as I gripped his wrists, sliding them over my shoulders, across my clothed, full breasts, and let them settle on the pronounced curves of my hips. My lips trembled, adrenaline kicking into high gear. I was breathing erratically, waiting for some kind of response.
Matt took his time studying me, swallowed and tilted his head in contemplation. My body sparked with wanton desire when he leaned low and firmly gripped my hips, murmuring in my ear:
“Is this what you want to feel, Simone?”
“Yes,” I said, looking down at my feet and briefly second-guessing myself.
He cupped my chin and forced me to look in his eyes, shaking his head, unconvinced.
“I need you to be sure,” he pressed.
“I’m sure,” I said with conviction. My panties were dampening by the second, and I was aching to tear them off and let Matt give my attention-starved sex all it could handle.
I expected him to turn alpha-male, rip my hideous pajamas right in two – not that I would have minded – throw me over his shoulder and take me as he pleased.
Instead, his steady, careful fingers took its sweet time bunching the hem of my shirt, and he tenderly kissed my cheek. I whimpered, raised my arms and trembled when he removed the garment. He lowered to one knee, hooked his fingers on both sides of my pants and panties, and painstakingly peeled them down my thick, long legs.
My trimmed pussy glimmered with wetness, and Matt’s breath caught in his throat. He stood and unceremoniously snatched the towel covering his waist, revealing a throbbing erection. We stood in the kitchen, nude, with a pile of clothes at our feet and a sexual tension that was unparalleled to anything I had ever experienced before.
He held my hand, rubbed his thumb against the back of my brown palm and pulled me close. His soft lips landed on the side of my neck once, twice, three times. I closed my eyes and lost count, reaching behind him to caress and lightly drag my fingernails over his wide back.
“How long has it been?” he muttered between kisses.
“Too long,” I gasped, my hands traveling to grip his firm ass.
He moved lower and nibbled gently at the skin above my collarbone. “A year?”
“Two.”
“Oh, Simone,” he half-chuckled, half-groaned. “I can relate, trust me. It’s been a long time for me, too. I’m not sure if I can make up for two years in one night, but I’ll sure as hell try. How do you want –“
“Here. Here, now… inside of me.”
I reached up, curled my arm around Matt’s thick neck and pulled him to my waiting mouth for a barrage of light, hungry kisses. He put my other arm over his shoulder and hoisted me in mid-air, sweeping his big arms underneath my legs, making them dangle over the sides. The swollen tip of his member grinded against my entrance, and I rested my head on his shoulder in anticipation.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
With one sharp thrust, he plunged deep into my wet folds, forced me to bite down on his shoulder to keep from hollering.
“Shit!” he hissed, holding me stationary, forcing me to take every inch. His pelvis rocked back and forth as he fucked me, the sound of his hard cock hammering my soaking wet folds driving me insane. God, did he know what he was doing. He was hitting all the right spots, and every so often, he would pull all the way out to slam back into me, forcing his cock as deep as it could go and held it there for a few seconds before starting
all over again.
“It’s so fucking good!” I exclaimed, my hot breath cascading over his pale skin, making him shiver, relentlessly pounding me with such force that I was fast approaching climax. My high-pitched, almost broken scream and bucking hips was enough to let him know, and he quickened his pace, gritting his teeth, daring me to cream on his shaft through his intense stare.
My fingernails sunk into his flesh as my walls contracted, my body experiencing what it had been denied of for far too long. Matt continued pushing himself in and out of me through my orgasm, but I felt his thighs buckle and in an instant, we both went crashing to the kitchen floor, still straddling his waist.
“Oh man,” he chuckled, his eyes barely open and face flushed. “I…”
I put my finger against his lips and shook my head, one hand on his chest as I rocked back and forth on his still very rock hard shaft.
He moaned, watched my heavy breasts sway as I rode him, parting his lips to suck on one of my slender fingers, then another. His hands slid up my outstretched arms, across my shoulders and cupped my bouncing flesh, running his thumbs over my eraser-thick, ebony nipples, making me shudder from the sensitive sensation. He soon grew tired of the leisurely pace; he gripped two handfuls of my round ass, smacked both cheeks and held me in place while his pale cock disappeared inside of me.
Time ceased to pass; no words were exchanged during our passionate tryst – only hungry stares filled with yearning desire to explore each other’s physical beings. His pace went from slow, deep strokes to hurried lunges, never uttering a solitary syllable but coaxing me to let myself go through a penetrating, dominant glare.
I lost count of the number of times I reached my peak, but when my body could take no more, I collapsed on his chest, a sweaty, convulsing heap of raw nerves and more satisfied than I had been in years.
He held me close, warm hands stroking my back, cheek nuzzling my forehead.
“Hmmm. How was that?”
“Amazing,” I sighed contentedly. “Is… it too late to convince you that I’ve never done this before?”
Matt smirked, those deep dimples emerging. “So long as you believe you’re only the second woman I’ve slept with in my entire life.”
“Seriously?”
“Mmhm,” he nodded, pulling out of me. I was distracted by his cock, still standing at full attention and now, completely coated in my juices. “First and last was my wife, Tasha.”
“Aw,” I cooed, prompting Matt to smile and playfully roll his eyes. “That’s sweet. What happened, you got divorced?”
“Not exactly,” he inhaled, put his arms behind his head. “She uh, passed on ‘bout five years ago.”
I fell silent, desperately trying to find the right words to say under the unique circumstances. He could see the hesitation in my eyes and shook his head, heading me off at the pass.
“Don’t,” he said simply. “I’m not sure if I believe in everything happenin’ for a reason, but it did happen. I miss her, but I’ve been thinkin’ it’s about time for me to move on, so to speak. Just never thought I’d reconnect with another woman like this,” he laughed.
“It’s… new territory for me too,” I admitted wearily.
We shared our thoughts and experiences on relationships and love; Matt shared the odd story about Tasha and his life without her, while I passed on the sordid details of my failure of a romantic life and my dysfunctional family woes. By the time we had run out of things to say, dawn was breaking, and rays of sunlight seeped through the curtains and blinds.
Matt’s cock was still semi-hard, and I frowned with regret. “You never…”
“I didn’t need to,” he shrugged. “I wanted you to.”
I was tired, but had just enough left in me to crawl to the end of Matt’s body, my face and mouth inches away from his member.
“Simone…”
The tip of my wet tongue trailed against his cock and he groaned, put his hand on the back of my head. It had been a very long time since I gave a blowjob and was probably a little rusty, but seemed to be doing well enough. Matt’s breath came out in shallow spurts as I opened wide, my lips touching his pelvis, deep throating him. At least my gag reflex was still good.
“Jesus,” he gasped, swallowing. “I… ugh! I don’t think I’m gonna…”
It was my turn to tease, to egg him on to his own climax. My cheeks hollowed, and the wet, slurping sounds I was making with my mouth was enough to drive him over the edge.
The first drops of his salty pre cum hit my tongue, and I took him out of my mouth with a pop without a second to spare. When he came, he came hard – I had never seen a man produce so much semen during ejaculation. It was thick, pearly white and kept coming like a never-ending faucet. My hand and his thighs were completely drenched at the end of it.
He lay motionless, but grabbed my wrist when I got up to find towels.
“Straddle me,” he demanded.
“Are you sure…”
“My face,” he clarified. “Straddle my face.”
I whimpered, crawling up his body and putting both legs on either side of his face. I lowered my still moist slit onto his mouth and creamed when his tongue explored me, licking my walls fervently, massaging my backside.
I rocked my pussy gently against him, which made him groan in approval. He was teasing me now, talking into my pussy, the vibrations making it hard for me to hold out. I tangled my fingers in his blonde hair and for the last time that day, I climaxed, this time inside of his hot, waiting mouth.
I collapsed on the side of him, and cringed when I noticed the clock.
“Damn,” I groaned, still panting. “I have to meet the tow truck guy in two hours.”
“I’ll drive you,” Matt volunteered.
That awkward silence – the where-do-we-go-from-here feeling swept over the both of us, and we both jumped at the opportunity to address it.
“Did you want to exchange…”
“I think we should keep in touch…”
Nervous laughter filled the air.
“Definitely,” he said. “I think it would only be right, especially now. I uh, I hope this won’t scare you off, but I don’t do one night stands. I know this sounds a bit backwards, but… I’d like to take you out one night this week, when you can slip away from your family reunion and all.”
“I’d like that.”
The rest of the morning between us was quiet. Matt and I took separate showers, got dressed and hit the road. The fifteen minute drive to my stranded car was over in a flash, and by the time we got there, my tire was already fixed. I gave my thanks to the mechanic and faced Matt with a solemn smile.
“So…”
“So,” he chuckled. “Try to make the best of your family reunion and give me a call sometime this week. I’ll be waitin’.” He winked and walked back to his pick-up truck.
“Matt?”
“Yes’m?”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He climbed in, shut the door and took off.
I leaned against the car door, my eyes following him until he was out of sight.
It was the perfect detour, not only from the family reunion that indeed, turned out to be a living nightmare, but a welcomed change from the mundane path of being conservative and closed-minded. I only had him to thank for it.
There were many more encounters with Matt Copeland to come, but I would never forget our first night together.
About Lauren Battiste
Lauren Battiste had been writing steamy romance and erotica for years as a hobby under the pen name "RaLa" when she finally decided to go pro. Reborn under her new monicker, Lauren's work reaches out and touches countless new readers through Steam Books Erotica & Romance as well her own independent publishing. Lauren especially loves to explore the burning passion in interracial exchanges.
A native of Michigan, Lauren holds a degree in Business Administration, but we think she's even better at adm
inistering visions of love and lust into her readers' imaginations.
You can keep up with Lauren Battiste's latest at her blog: laurenxbattiste.wordpress.com.
And more from Lauren Battiste:
COLORBLIND
Escaping slavery on her way to a future of freedom in Canada, Ruthie is hosted by handsome young Joshua. The spark between them is undeniable, but in the 1800s the color line is one that love - and lust - is forbiden to cross.
EXTREMELY
PERSONAL
TRAINER
Jeanette Lavia
Tasha admired herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom.
“You’re such a sexy bitch,” she teased as she turned side to side to view her busty profile.
For the past two weeks, Tasha’s best friend and co-worker, Monica, had been hounding her to go to the gym with her ever since they found out that employees of the law firm could get a free membership at “Fit-ness Gym.” Tasha knew why Monica wanted to go; she wanted to troll for a man.
Tasha wasn’t interested in looking for a man in a place like that. Chances were that the men that spent most of their time in the gym had little free time for a serious relationship and she wasn’t normally the one-night-stand kind of gal. But Monica had begged and pleaded with her until she finally gave in and agreed to go with her.
At thirty, the image that stared back from the mirror wasn’t exactly that of a woman twenty-years-old but nowhere near over the hill either. Tasha had all the right curves in all the right places. Her large, 36DD breasts were perfect, with just the right amount of lift and bounce, and her round, tender ass was simply scrumptious.
She wet her lips and struck a few more poses, marveling at herself. The black sports bra and under shorts could barely be seen against her dark ebony skin. Tasha was quite the sight and that was the main reason she had been the receptionist for her law firm for years.
It didn’t bother her one bit either. They paid her well for her looks, knowing that their wealthy clientele would prefer to be greeted by an attractive woman than an ugly one. Besides, he had already been certified as a paralegal and was taking night classes to become a lawyer, so it worked out well for her in the end.
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