by Leanne Davis
He catches on and his teeth grab my nipple while his fingers dig deeper inside me, making me pinch his shoulders when I come around his hand and begin crying out. I finish, blinking in confusion, while time and space seem to pause indefinitely. I curl up around him, but soon flop back, feeling resplendent. He stares down at me. Shocked. Confused. And surprised.
I moan in languid joy after such an orgasm. Mostly because it was him.
I open my eyes, and he’s staring at me. From my toes to my head, his gaze devours me. He’s into this. I pull my legs up and sit up. “Take off your pants.”
He nods and stands up, turning from me and dropping his shorts and black boxers. I try to keep my smile contained, but he’s adorable in his shyness. His muscles ripple under the skin, hinting at his strength. His butt could bounce a quarter off it, it’s so cut with indentations and muscles, which are all in the exact right spots. His thighs are ropey, too, extending from his firm ass.
I reach out and touch the silky skin strung taut over his butt. He turns, but just his head, startled at my touch and interest. I take his hand and tug him towards me. He has to turn, and my eyes widen. He starts to drop down, and I touch his long, silky penis. It’s strong as steel and smooth as marble. He seriously underplays his looks. He could sleep with any woman across the country. It’s kind of a thrill to me that he’s so innocent and humbled by it all. His body says he’d be the total opposite.
His eyes close, and his face contorts with pleasure. I stand with one hand on him, the other sliding up his body. His hands grip my shoulders, and he leans down until his mouth finds mine. It’s different than ever before. He’s gone. He’s lost. He’s in the moment and the zone. There is no history. There is nothing for Wesley but me right now and how I’m making his body feel. His hands grip my shoulders, and his mouth all but dives inside mine. Deep and wet, he kisses me over and over as I tug on him. The more I touch him, the more he kisses me. If not for how serious this is for him, I might have smiled at how typical his reaction was. Even if it was brand new for him. He suddenly pulls from me and turns away. I’m impressed at the speed in which he’s suddenly on his knees before coming into a beach towel he left on the floor.
He finishes and his shoulders flex and flop forward. He’s embarrassed. Duh. We’ve come this far. I’m not about to have him withdraw now. I immediately come up behind him, wrap my arms around his shoulders and lean over him. He stiffens. I kiss him on the base of his neck several times before I lick him from there to his ear. I circle his ear with my kisses and bite playfully at his earlobe. He leans into it but still avoids looking at me. I keep kissing and pushing his shoulder and forcing him to make room for me. He has to let go of the towel as I crawl into his lap, still hanging onto his neck.
“It was an orgasm. Just as I had. No reason to be embarrassed. It was awesome. Right?”
He nods but won’t meet my gaze.
“Well, I’m not embarrassed about mine, why would you be about yours? In fact, I expected a thank you. Or at least a compliment. A damn, Dani D that was hot.”
The stress lines bracketing his mouth loosen. He meets my gaze. I’m in his arms, like one would cradle a newborn. I just plant myself there and short of ignoring me, he decides to accommodate me.
A small smile touches his mouth. Oh, it was that smile that broke my heart and put it all back together. That small, boyish, shy, sweet, and yes, grateful smile. Grateful I touched him and kissed him and didn’t embarrass him afterwards and even made him smile now.
I lift my eyebrows as if waiting. “Well…”
He leans down and pulls me to his chest. “Thank you.”
It’s so much more serious than my teasing. My attempts to make him feel less serious and stupid and embarrassed are lost in the depth of his tone of voice. I can hear the tight, desperate quality in his crazy, intense voice. It tells me he’s never done this or felt this although it means the world to him. I think he doesn’t masturbate. I think this was a first for him. I think there have been deep issues that can’t be solved here. But he trusts me now. I made this the best it could be for him.
I touch his cheek and squirm around with my bare tush on his penis and of course, as I expect, it starts to react. The more I wiggle, the faster his penis pops back into life. He jerks his head up.
“We’re so not done.” I smile as I start to move. Grabbing a condom, I turn back to put it on him. I’m straddling him, holding onto his shoulders. I love his big, sturdy, wide shoulders. They turn me on by dwarfing mine. He looks up to me just a bit. I move my body over his erect penis. It rubs the swollen wetness that’s already aching for him. He shudders and takes in a breath. I smile and kiss him before rubbing back and forth until my body releases and lets me know I’m ready.
I watch him carefully for signs of confusion or panic. “Are you ready?”
He nods, his gaze now focused, serious, deathly somber as he stares at my face. I wrap my arms around his neck and I slowly slip over him, inch by inch. Slow and easy so he doesn’t get overwhelmed or panic-stricken. “Okay?” I ask at one point. He nods. Vigorously.
His gaze stays on mine as I lift up and fall back down. Over and over. I go slowly. So slowly, it’s a lovely torture. I build up the anticipation and draw out the up and down, up and down. I feel the growing feelings, a gnawing hunger of desire starting in me that grows more and more demanding the longer I do it, and the slower I keep the pace.
Suddenly, he rolls over me, his head right above mine. I open my eyes, and he’s staring right into them. Just centimeters away.
“Wesley?” I question. My tone is all breathy and strange and so unlike how I’ve ever heard myself. But I’ve never been looked at like this. Like I’m the most beautiful, intelligent, witty, keeper-of-all-things good, light, and wonderful in this earthly world. That creates a lot of pressure. And exhilaration, too.
“Abbott,” he whispers as he leans down and brushes his lips over mine ever so softly before rising up again.
“What?” I have no idea what the sudden pause and comment are about. Oh, talk about looking into your soul.
“My last name. It’s Abbott.”
Oh, shit. I got so used to Wesley just being Wesley I guess—holy hell! Would I have let him leave town without ever confirming his last name? Wesley Abbott. It dawns on me what that means to Wesley. He prefers to hide his identity. His absolute last line of defense and protection. He wouldn’t give it to the Kincaids, not even in the end. Even after everything they did for him and the trust he had in them. But he’s telling me, and it’s his very last brick of vulnerability. He doesn’t have to. I didn’t ask. I don’t require it—which looking back, damn! I should have. But I didn’t.
I grab behind his neck and bring his mouth smashing down on mine where I slam my tongue inside his. I push his mouth back. “That’s not such an exotic name. It’s kinda… ordinary.”
His shoulders relax, and his posture releases. He nods. “It’s pretty damn ordinary.”
“But you’re not. You know that, right?”
“No.” And of course, Wesley Abbott, wow! It sounds odd to have a full name for him, and it means so much more, like I achieved intimacy with him, even if I didn’t. When really, it’s just a name. A name that means what? It tells so little about us, but this feels like it tells a lot. I also think he told me because he trusts me. He doesn’t do that. He doesn’t trust most people and he’s just given me his version of the ultimate trust. Sex and his last name.
I get the first, but he truly didn’t have to share with me his last name. It touches my heart in deep ways.
Then he’s on top of me and shoving into me hard. Long and hard. I gasp. His hips retreat. “I’m sorry!” The panic is instantly in his voice.
I grab his tight ass and push. “NO! Do that. Keep doing that!” I scream. I’m gone, lost to this, to him, to us. All my carefulness with him is lost to the passion of my own body and the overwhelming feelings he kindles. I just hope it’s not too much for him to handle.<
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He smiles and starts slamming into me. I all but stretch my arms out in glory when I come. His body is hammering into me and he fills me all the way before coming into me with his full body, his full heart, his full love. He’s kissing me with his tongue while his body is as far inside me as it can push. And that’s how I know when Wesley finds his sexuality. It’s inside me, with me, right now. Here and now, we are free in this moment despite everything that tried to twist and pervert it. The demons that threatened to ruin him and take away his ability to love and feel love are virtually banished.
He’s capable of feeling love. And all it has to offer, both in the physical and emotional. With me!
Chapter 17
WESLEY
I feel normal for the first time in my life.
Rolling over, I feel Dani curling up. She’s not a cuddly sleeper. Soon after she falls asleep, she turns away. I smile in amusement. I don’t sleep very long. Too much to think about. Too much just happened to me.
Someone knows the real me.
I’m not used to that. Being known and understood. By my real name. I give out fake ones all the time. I rarely say my own name out loud. It feels so odd and rusty, and yet I told Dani. It was more important she know that than pursuing our sexual encounter was. It wasn’t like a cherished part of my history. There isn’t anyone I have ever shared my real name with. Even if it has no value, I just don’t like to talk about it. For all I know, my birth mother could have made it up. I have no idea about my early history.
But Dani had to know my name before I ventured to have sex with her.
This girl. This. Damn. Girl.
She infiltrated parts of me I didn’t know existed. My heart for one. My soul. My smile. My feelings about sex. She gave me something no one else could.
What could I give her? My stupid last name? Then leave her alone? Maybe that was a mixed blessing. To spare her the next decade trying to fix me and repair all the damage that my childhood endured and which fucked me all up. I refuse to tell anyone my last name and when I do, it’s as sacred as a chalice or a secret treasure. I have no family. And little history. I freaked out when she did the most normal things like trying to kiss me and I tried to make sure we didn’t have sex. Despite how much I wanted to.
See? She’ll be better if I leave. I should have left without all of this drama. But how do you turn from the only true happiness you’ve ever experienced? I had no idea what happiness, joy, and love felt like. I simply never knew they existed. Not like this. They were empty words to me, concepts I tried to understand, but never could match a feeling with them. Or else they evoked so many feelings, I became overwhelmed and speechless.
But I can’t fuck her up. She doesn’t need the burden of emotional and behavioral problems I’ll no doubt have if I ever try to assimilate into normal life.
Still this… what we just did, was so incredible I can’t put into words how it felt. How it… shit! How can I ever explain it? Thankfully, I doubt I have to.
She wakes and her eyelids flutter open. The tent is wildly bright for the early hour. It doesn’t have a dim switch or anything to block out the sun’s ruthless rays. “Hey there, Abbott. What are you staring at?”
That’s what I kind of adore about this girl. She can make awkward things feel normal and what once seemed so huge or humiliating to me turns into nothing particularly bothersome. “I don’t know Dani D, probably your naked breasts?”
“Oh, my God, you can’t call me that and say breasts in the same breath!”
She giggles and glances down, seeing her chest is free of the sleeping bag. She starts to pull it up and I quickly grab it to stop her. As I do that, my mouth heads downwards and I grasp her small, soft mound in my hand before licking the end of her nipple. Her giggle changes to a groan and I settle on top of her. Kissing and pulling at the annoying sleeping bag, she’s soon gasping, and I unzip the lining so her naked body is under mine. She opens her legs and I stare at her. “Can I just…?”
“Yes! Yes. Please,” she gasps, dismissing my hesitation. Her hands are moving around but she pops up with a condom and pushes it at me. I take it and roll it on before she’s squirming all around as her legs separate and she tugs my shoulders her way. When at last I push into the warmest, hottest, most amazing spot I’ve ever had the pleasure of entering, I am in Nirvana. Something I couldn’t understand. There was no way. Not until now. Not until Dani. I stress because I know I am doing this wrong, but she writhes under my body like the last time, and I think she likes it just as much as I do. She’s as loud as I am. So, it feels like something must be going right.
It’s quick and hot, unlike last night. Well, last night I was humiliated, but she, in her Dani-like way got me through it. She would not allow me to take myself so seriously or get lost in my self-consciousness.
I owe her the world.
She stretches and I slip from her before she curls up again. Her eyes close as she falls into a deep sleep while I hold her, thinking this might never end for me. Well, the physical holding of Dani will end, but perhaps my feelings never will.
She wakes later and runs out to pee. I did already. I didn’t sleep at all. But she comes back in and I grab her. I kiss her and it’s only a matter of minutes before I have her on top of me. She’s screaming and coming and slumping in a stupor of sex.
She opens her eyes. “You have to let me eat something.”
I sheepishly nod and smile. “I know just the—”
She touches my cheek. “I know.”
But the thing is that I think she knows it’s more than anyone else would assume. Yeah, I was a virgin, finally having sex with the girl of my dreams. Finally having multiple orgasms. But it feels like so much more. Dani helped me to have them, despite the barriers that always kept me from ever wanting to try before. I look young and healthy and my sex drive should be insane with desire. But in reality, it was injured and faulty. If not for Dani, I just can’t imagine what would have happened. I can’t fathom opening up like I have with her to anyone else. The humiliation and confusion would have surely kept me silent.
Arms wrap around my waist as she snuggles into me all innocent and sweet, like she might hug her dad. She can seamlessly slip from being flaming hot to being a sweet girl in my arms. I love all sides of her.
“There will be so much more to do and try. Ways you might like better or worse, and new places to kiss and lick.” Her words, however, are not innocent and my body reacts. She glances down and laughs. “But not right now.”
I grin sheepishly, and she laughs out loud. We get some food. We swim, too. We laze on the beach in the sunlight. Oh, all that delicious sunlight. Sand invades every available place on our bodies. We make love three more times that afternoon and walk the beach for miles, sauntering with no real goal. We make it to the tip of the seven-mile long island where the mouth of one river enters the Columbia River. There are dozens of fishing boats, just like Ryder’s with fishing lines in the water, and most are anchored where one river intersects with the next.
We sit on a long sandbar and watch. Some are catching salmon. Most just idle around and wait. A large cargo ship comes up the river. It seems to be so close to the boats, they could reach out and slide their hands on it while it passes, but Dani assures me that no, there are specific shipping lanes, and the giant cargo ships must stay inside them, and the pleasure boats can’t anchor in them. I stare hard at the boaters. It makes me think of Ryder. His boat and the finicky love he has for it. I can only smile.
“What?”
“I was thinking of Ryder. He keeps that boat so clean, I’m surprised he’d ever take a chance bringing it out here or letting any fish guts near it.”
She hugs my arms more and nods. “He does. You’ll miss him?”
I stare out. “Yeah. We never did have the boat ride.”
She doesn’t answer. Or ask me if I’ll miss her.
We hold hands as the sun starts to set, growing golden and lazy down the opposite shore, making the
river too blinding to stare at. We walk back, still talking, holding each other, and stopping to kiss. A lot.
We eat and build a fire, watching the long beautiful twilight fade out.
Days of each other. Quiet. Swimming. Relaxing. Sand. Sun. Us. Mostly us. And sex. So much sex.
We do all the things Dani talks about. I spend a week in ways I’ve never pictured. I don’t want it to end. I know it’s just vacation. I, more than anyone, realize this isn’t real. It’s not real life. Yes, these people I met in Silver Springs live a life I’ve heard about but never experienced before. I’ll give them that, their love and relationships were healthy and caring, and they tried their best. They were so stable and predictable and yeah, the value of family trust truly seems to exist between them. I never believed it was real. Not at all.
It’s a revelation that family actually means something for some people.
But I know it will never be there for me.
The last night, we make love and hold each other. Her mouth does things to me I’ve never dreamed of, and I learn and explore her body to try and repay the ecstasy. Her screams suggest that I succeed at times. We lie there as dawn creeps in, holding, no, gripping each other tightly. Quietly. The sun fills the tent. We kiss one more time.
Before we start to take it all down.
It takes a few trips to her car. The silence between us is overbearing other than for a few functional comments. That’s the last of it. I don’t put my backpack in her car. She stares at it and transfers her handful of keys back and forth between her hands. Nerves. Fidgeting. She wears shorts and a t-shirt. Her hair dries big today, and she pulls it back in a ponytail. Sunglasses cover her eyes. Her sadness. Her accusation. She doesn’t say it out loud to me though. She just stares at my backpack, glaring up at her from the ground, and not in her car.