Malcolm - The Meeting (A Cocky Smiling O Story Book 3)

by Jade Sinner

  Like lightning to a dry, grassy field, as our breathing becomes one a fire ignites, rushing through me straight from my lips to my dick. It too has been on hiatus. No longer. Like fucking Frankenstein, Mandy's bolt of lightning zapped it back to life. First with a twitch, but as our kiss lingers, it is growing by the second.

  This beautiful lady is the power and energy I hadn't realized I was missing.

  The restaurant disappears as we move closer, her tits brush against my chest. I reach for her arms, turning her until both of them are smashed against me, until nothing but our clothes separates us.

  My nipples harden to painful nubs as they are flattened against Malcolm's hard chest.

  Words aren't forming. They've been replaced with moans and whimpers as I squirm against the seat.

  Who the hell am I? What is happening?

  As heat and wetness flood my core, I contemplate how I went from nun to slut in the matter of forty minutes. This isn't the Amanda Wells my mother knows: the responsible mother and daughter. This is a grown woman who's been held captive in life and sees a chance for a small reprieve.

  No—not sees. This is a woman who feels that reprieve with everything in her.

  I push the thoughts of everyday life from my mind as I surrender to the sensation of this man: his masculine scent, the warmth of his embrace, and the heat from his hardening body.

  This is one night, I repeat over the swish of my blood coursing through my veins. As our lips continue their dance, I make the decision that for one night I'm going to let myself live.

  Malcolm's heat consumes me, causing my body to melt in his grasp. Our hearts beat wildly against the other's as they pound out the rhythm of a song I'd forgotten. I relish his touch as his large hands skirt over my exposed arms. No longer foreign, his contact ignites sparks along my skin, my small hairs standing to attention as if waiting for lightning to strike. His fingers brush against the side of my breast.

  I push closer, wanting more.

  My mind and body battle. My mind screams its instructions: move away and protest, but instead, my body rebels, liquefying at his touch.

  His lips bruise mine as his tongue probes their seam. Willingly, I open, gasping for breath as the lingering taste of beer mixes with my wine. The blend scorches my blood as his closeness sends the boiling fluid directly to my core. I whimper as my pussy painfully clenches and my thighs press tightly together.

  Though I want hide my reaction, I fear I don't.

  What I really want to do is push my hips closer and allow more of our bodies to touch. It's been so long since I've felt this way, so long since I've wanted...really wanted.

  Malcolm's spicy scent surrounds me, merging with musk. Suddenly, I'm blinded in his cloud.

  When we finally pull away, before I can speak or even contemplate what happened, Malcolm's blue eyes shine down on me, taking me in and reading me.

  His voice rumbles through the background commotion of the bar. "You taste like sweet wine and smell like perfume and desire."

  Warmth fills my cheeks. "You taste like good beer."

  "Good? You're a beer connoisseur?"

  I shrug. "Mostly I know cheap beer."

  He lifts my chin, bringing his big blue eyes into focus. The room disappears, making them all I can see.

  "I'm a connoisseur," he says, his thumb rubbing gently over my bruised lips. "And you, beautiful Mandy, if you were a beer, would never be a cheap one. No, you're a good custom-crafted one. I see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, and smell it in the air. Kissing a stranger isn't something you do, is it?"

  I try to move my eyes away, but Malcolm's grip is unrelenting. Meeting his gaze, I reply, "No. I won't even bore you with how long it's been since I've kissed a real man."

  "You kiss fake men?"

  "Boys...well, only one actually."

  "You kiss boys..." And then, as if the reality of his statement hits home, he asks, "You have a son?"

  My heart flutters, its speed increasing by the second. "I do, but I don't want to talk about him. Not because he isn't important—he is. He's my world, but because tonight isn't about him. It's about me." I can't gauge Malcolm's reaction. I can only guess that he's assuming I'm some woman trying to get a man to take on responsibility that isn't his.

  I reach out and splay my fingers over his chest. His heart is beating to match mine. "I don't want to talk about him," I continue, "because he'll never know about you—I'll never tell him and never introduce you. Don't worry. I'm not after a man to rescue me. I'm perfectly content with my life as a mother. I just wanted to remember what it felt like to be a woman...for just one night."

  "I'm not anti-children—"

  I shake my head. "Stop. That doesn't matter." I notice the filled glasses on the table and laugh. "When did the waitress come?"

  Malcolm bows his head until our noses touch. He inhales deeply, his eyes closing as his hand falls to my lap. "I'd say just after you."

  More heat floods my cheeks. "I-I didn't..."

  "Then we need to do something about that." He looks again at the drinks. "I think the drinks came while my tongue was busy getting to know your sweet mouth."

  My breathing hitches. "Malcolm?"

  His hand splays over my thigh. "You said you want one night. One night doesn't end with a kiss. It begins with one."

  I reach for my menu. As I do, Malcolm lifts my wine glass and brings it to my lips. "Drink, beautiful Mandy. You have secrets to spill and we only have one night to do it."

  I sip the sweet, fruity liquid, its alcohol going straight to my head. Or is it the kiss, the closeness, or just Malcolm himself.

  "You know," I say as I turn toward him, "I had a blind date tonight with a man with issues. The poor guy may be here somewhere, and I'm standing him up."

  Malcolm's fingers move higher up my thigh as he shrugs. "Poor guy. His issues will probably get worse."

  "I'm not sure I can handle that responsibility."

  Malcolm laughs. "So you're saying that you wish you were with that guy?"

  I didn't have to think to respond—not that I could with his fingers moving closer to my wetness. I didn't want to be anywhere else—not with Sally and Brian, not with their friend Pep. For the first time since, well, for too long, I feel alive. I'm with the person fate intended and I'm not complaining. "No. I think fate had other plans, and who am I to argue with fate."

  His fingers move below the hem of my dress.

  "One night," he whispers.

  My thighs part as I suck in a ragged breath. As he brushes the crotch of my panties, the choices on the menu blur. Food no longer seems important.

  Malcolm speaks softly near my neck. His warm breath is the breeze rekindling the earlier blaze as his fingers stroke the flame. "Do you see anything you want?"

  My body is on fire as I writhe toward his touch. I turn until our eyes meet, purposely allowing my legs to open to his desires. "Yes, I do see what I want."

  "Me too. Since we only have one night, how about we both stand up our blind dates and make other plans?"

  My breasts throb in anticipation as I try to take a breath. My words come out as a sigh. "W-what would those plans be?"

  "I have wine and beer at my apartment and the pizza app on my phone. How about we leave this crowded place?"

  My heart beats out of my chest as my mouth threatens to sabotage my one night. "I-I..."

  "If you spread those sexy thighs farther, we could finish what we started. We can do that here in front of this entire restaurant or back at my place." He nips my ear, the jolt zapping straight to where his fingers are roaming.

  Fuck!

  "I promise you'll cum."

  My insides tighten. I haven't been so turned on in years. "Malcolm..."

  "Fate, Mandy, fate."

  "I do love pizza."

  Before I comprehend that I just agreed to go to his apartment, Malcolm removes his hand, bringing his fingers to his nose and inhales with a cocky smile. "So close."

 
I want to argue, but what's the point?

  Malcolm pulls more bills from his wallet and lays them on the table.

  "Um, I was supposed to pay for that."

  His eyes shimmer. "Oh, beautiful, if tonight goes as I plan, you'll repay me many times over."

  Though I thought many times to stop following Malcolm's car and head home, I didn't.

  Like the gentleman he is, he takes my hand and leads me to his apartment. The door is barely closed when all pretense is lost.

  I'm back in Malcolm’s arms, surrounded by his spicy-scented embrace. The musk of our desire, my perfume, and his cologne combine in an all-encompassing vapor until the intoxicating potion dazes and excites me. It’s a drug and suddenly I’m an addict.

  Though my mind wants to protest, my body is more energized than it’s been in years. Zeal surges through me—all the way from my tingly scalp to my curling toes and everywhere in between. His full, sensual lips are on mine. His muscled body is against me. I'm sandwiched between him and the wall, and the way I'm pushing back, I chose him.

  My moans fill the air, breaking through the cloud of desire as he reaches for my ass and lifts me. My legs surround his waist as my ankles lock together. The dress I worked so long to find is bunched around my waist, exposing my underwear. Shamelessly, my hungry pussy grinds against his erection. In no time, the straps of my dress are lowered, exposing my bra. The lace is smashed down, allowing my breasts to overflow the cups.

  Every part of me is alive. My nipples pebble as the hardness beneath me grows. I let out a suppressed whimper as his rod of steel grinds over my panties.

  "I want to be inside you." Malcolm’s desire comes out less as a question and more as a demand.

  My pussy clenches as I imagine the rod that is teasing my covered clit being inside me.

  I nod as I try to breathe. "I-I want that too."

  With my arms around his neck and my cheek against his broad shoulder, he reaches for my panties and moves them to the side slipping one finger and then two deep inside me. My head rolls backward as I relish the sensation.

  “You’re so fucking wet,” he hisses as his fingers move, orchestrating magic.

  Consumed with need, my entire body moves to his rhythm, up and down as both fingers curl and his thumb brushes my clit. Every nerve sizzles as Malcolm brings me to the edge of my figurative mountain.

  “O-oh.” My sounds aren’t words but primitive noises as my muscles tighten.

  I gasp as he takes away the pleasure, but then all at once, my heartbeat quickens seeing his next move. Severing our kisses, Malcolm brings his finger to our lips and plunges them inside his mouth and over his tongue. Butterflies of uncertainty morph to bats of wanton need as his blue eyes sparkle in the still-dim apartment, and he pulls his fingers from his lips and teases mine.

  Without hesitation, I open, allowing his fingers inside. I taste the sweetness of his kiss combined with my own cum. Approvingly, his eyes shine as I suck one of his fingers and then both.

  “Fuck,” he growls as his hips resume their grind.

  Again, he reaches for my panties. "Beautiful, I hope you're not particularly attached to these."

  Before I can respond, the ripped fabric falls from my waist. While still supporting me with one hand, Malcolm undoes his belt and slacks.

  Time forgets to move and my breathing hitches as his slacks slide down his wide thighs and his cock springs free. Though I can't see it, from the probing of my exposed skin, I know it's big, hard, and ready. My tummy muscles tense as I wrap my arms tighter around his thick neck and lift myself, well aware that I’m fully exposed to his impending invasion.

  “Mandy, are you sure?” his deep, reassuring tone asks.

  I nod, unsure why I want this man as much as I do.

  He leans back, making sure our gazes meet. In his eyes I see determination and desire. He wants a verbal answer, yet words aren’t currently within my ability. Instead, with the wall and Malcolm still supporting me, I reach down and fist his cock.

  “F-fuuck.” His word rumbles through the air in multiple syllables.

  I grasp his length as far as I can reach and run my hand up and down. Enjoying the width and length, I stroke the stretched skin and run my thumb over the dewy tip. As his head falls backward, I direct his cock to my willing, wet pussy.

  A scream escapes my lips as his giant cock plunges deep inside me.

  Fuck! He’s so large.

  It takes multiple thrusts and wiggles as I work to accommodate his girth. Each time is deeper than the last, each one extracting my whimpers of pleasure. I can’t remember ever feeling so full, so stretched. Up and down I ride until he is fully inside of me. Lunge after lunge, he drives into me, each thrust finding new points of ecstasy as my fingers clench his shoulders and fingernails threaten his shirt. Wanting to be closer, I reach for his hair, weaving and gripping until I’ve pulled his mouth to my neck.

  I want all of this man, his cock buried inside me, his beard against my sensitive skin, and his warm breath panting in my ear.

  All at once, my toes curl and body goes rigid.

  Noises like I’ve never made scream from the depths of my soul, filling the air, replacing our heavy breathing and the sound of my body hitting the wall.

  No warning.

  No increased tightening.

  No slow climb.

  It's as if my body forgot how to climax, how to orgasm. I can't focus as the tidal wave of pleasure overcomes me.

  I explode. No longer rigid, I puddle in his arms.

  "O-oh, oh!"

  "Fuck," he growls as my back continues to pound the wall and my pussy clenches uncontrollably around his length.

  His deep, possessive roar fills the room as he cums. His thrusts slow, each one less needy as he fills me with his seed.

  It isn't until we both calm and our breathing settles that I even think about protection.

  I can’t believe what we did.

  OK. We had sex. Phenomenal, earth-shaking sex. But in all my years, I’ve never had unprotected sex with a stranger.

  As I hand Mandy a glass of moscato and her light blue eyes meet with mine, I want to know everything about her. I don’t want us to be strangers, but lovers, friends, soul mates, and everything in between.

  In the few short hours since I've met her, I sense something different than I’ve experienced in other women. I sense honesty and sincerity. I sense a loving spark, hungry for desire. I know it’s too soon to feel this way, but fuck, I can’t help the way I feel.

  Once our initiation of my apartment was done, I offered her my shirt. Her dress was...well, soiled. I love the way my green button-down hangs on her, big and gaping, showing just a little of her luscious tits. I can’t see all of them, but the curves of the round globes are the perfect tease, making me want more.

  “I should probably go,” she says, sipping her wine.

  “No.”

  Her eyes widen. “No? Are you holding me captive?”

  My cock comes back to life. “I wasn’t thinking that, but now I’m intrigued.”

  Her smile warms my heart—so trusting and serene.

  “No, but we made a deal when we met.”

  “We did?”

  “I said I wanted to learn more about you, your secrets and dreams. You promised to tell me about the guy you were supposed to meet tonight.”

  The blush in her cheeks blossoms. “It may make me seem awful, but I’m glad I met you instead.”

  I shake my head, opening my beer. “Not awful at all. You, Mandy Wells, are the best meeting I’ve had in—well, ever.”

  She tugs at the hem of my shirt as her bare legs wrap under her beautiful, petite body. I love that she’s half naked on my couch. I love that her pussy isn’t covered with anything, and I could easily…

  She sits straighter. “We did have a deal, Malcolm, and I believe it included pizza.”

  My hands go up in the air. “I forgot. You see, I’m quite satisfied with what I’ve already eaten.”


  The pink of her cheeks darkens to a shade of rose as we both entertain memories of her on that same couch, her legs spread wide and my face buried in her silky cunt. The mere thought has me ready for a second course.

  “Pizza,” she says, focusing our thoughts.

  I stand and reach for my phone. Before I can call, I see another text message from Brian.

  Sorry, man, about the mix-up. Sally is going to try to reschedule. I really fucked up. It won’t happen next time.

  I shake my head, wondering how to respond.

  No worries. The night wasn’t a bust. We’ll talk. Forget the reschedule. I don’t think I’m ready for a blind date...Because I want to see the beautiful woman on my couch again, not some nice friend of Sally’s. I didn’t text that last sentence, but I thought it.

  I look up at Mandy, seeing her eyes on me, the way she’s scanning my bare chest, makes me want to rip that shirt from her tiny frame. “I never back down on an obligation," I say. "I promised pizza. What do you like on your pizza?”

  Her lips twitch. “Anchovies and jalapeno peppers.”

  My fingers stop pulling up the ordering app. “Seriously?”

  Mandy stands, my shirt falling to mid-thigh and walks closer. “If I said I was serious, would you order that?”

  It’s my turn to nod. I’d do whatever this woman asked.

  She shakes her head. “I’m a veggie girl, but—” Her eyes widen as she looks to my belt and back. “—I’m not against meat.”

  A few clicks and we have a cheese and veggie pizza on its way. By the way she’s dropped to her knees, I’m confident she’ll have more than enough meat.

  One night.

  Dropping to my knees in front of Malcolm, I tell myself to keep going—make it count.

  I don’t want this amazing feeling to end. I don’t want to forget how it feels to have Malcolm inside me, to have his cock and tongue buried in my pussy. I don’t want to forget the way he makes my entire body ignite and combust.

  I also don’t want him to forget me.

  Reaching for his belt, I allow the tips of my fingers to graze over his lower stomach and trace the indented V at his hips, the one pointing down to his cock as I unzip his trousers.