Tempted

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Tempted Page 14

by Cj Paul


  ME: Imagine eating simple California rolls.... rice, crab, avo.... off of my tummy.... with soy sauce for dunking, pooled in my navel

  ALEX: Mmmmm. That sounds delicioso

  Just then I am interrupted by the sound of the neighborhood trash truck.

  ME: Ugh! I forgot to take the trash out. See the effect you have on me? Brb

  ALEX: Go for it. I'll be here.

  ME: Think of ways you want to defile me, in my absence

  ALEX: Wow. I usually do all of that spontaneously. I do want to bend you over the kitchen table, and tug your hair, and watch you watching me make you moan and quake.

  I want to sit you on the countertop and bury my face in your folds, and French kiss you below while you spasm and grind into my eager mouth.

  And then kiss your mouth after, so you can taste your sweetness on my lips and tongue.

  ME: I love all of it!........ and I love that you want to do it

  and I am smiling

  and...... pulsing

  ALEX: I wish you were pulsing in my mouth. Squeezing my tongue as it probes and samples you

  ME: Funny... I wish you were in MY mouth... throbbing.... pushing my tongue as it curls around you.... my lips taking turns stroking and sucking you..... my hands running figure 8s around your shaft, sort of like serving as background singers heehee

  ALEX: Wow. I love your descriptions. Maybe we should get together, write some trashy sex romance Harlequin thing. But we’ll see if you’re still joking as I massage you ‘til you squirt buckets, dear.

  ME: I would be proud to drench you... in thanks for your handiwork

  I fear we are not going to be able to handle this intensity while there is no plan as to how to realize our passion..... and I don't just mean physical passion........ and yes, I am actually speaking for myself

  ALEX: You speak for me as well. But I don't really fear that. I think we're creative and communicative, and that that will suffice for the time that it must. When I'm not so tired I do want to have message sex with you. Not just random descriptions, but both of us, naked, together, making love via messages.

  And I think that would be way hot.

  Might be hard to type...LOL But I'm sure we'd manage.

  ME: Beyond hot

  and I am all in

  ALEX: Uh oh. Mom is asking to use my phone. Lol. Chatter later, lover!

  It is hours before he texts again, and then, only to say that he has been called upon to play referee in a family scuffle that started at the kiddy restaurant and escalated back at his sister’s house. His mom has been using his phone nonstop, and it is completely out of juice. But I’m not out of juice. Far from it.

  However will I get through an entire evening without my new vice, Alex? Hmmmm ‘vice.’ Isn’t that the word that connected us in the first place? That innocuous Lincoln quote on April’s wall about vices and virtues? I decide to turn in early, not only to call dibs on the bedding before the pets stake their claim, but because I want to repose in goose down comfort and count my blessings.

  Going over the events of the day I am grateful for David’s call. It really was sweet of him to keep calling till he reached me person to person. Now that I have my wits about me, and am not all atwitter trying to nab Alex’s call, I realize exactly what David’s last comment about the funeral meant: “Then that’s where I’ll be next Friday too!” I smile.

  Because of our metaphysical closeness, but physical distance, one of the ways we participate in each other’s lives from afar is by being right there in spirit when one of us has something big going on. I can’t count how many times I’ve asked what time one of his meetings or presentations was to be held so that I could ‘be there’ to support him. I would then do the math to determine what time his meeting in Italy would translate to here in California. He always told me he could literally feel the difference if I was not ‘there’ to bolster him.

  My mind wanders back to all things Alex. A satisfied sigh escapes my lips, and I realize how grateful I am – grateful to have Alex as a love interest, and grateful to have David as a friend.

  Chapter Twenty-TwoThe day of the funeral is something out of a Bronte sisters novel – bleak, windy and eerily quiet. If Danielle were attending it, she would have thrown a fit about the dourness of the proceedings. Her sweet, timid, conservative parents are beside themselves. Her dad attempts to give a simple eulogy, but breaks down and I, the talk show gal, am asked on the spot, in front of the congregation, to ad lib. I instantly go blank and tongue-tied, but somehow manage to pull it off reasonably well. In thanks and solidarity, her parents hold onto me, making me part of the receiving line as the procession of mourners works its way out the church doors.

  There are few of us at the actual burial ceremony that follows. I generally do very well with death. Based on my personal views of infinity and eternity, I have high hopes for the hereafter. But gazing at Danielle’s parents across the gaping rectangular hole that will soon swallow their daughter, and seeing them huddled together racked with tears, is more than I can take. My composure begins to crumble. Just as I feel I am about to hyperventilate, a calming hand takes mine, and I squeeze it for a few seconds to steady myself. When I look to see whose hand I’m holding, I am too stunned to speak.

  In the last year and a half, I’d come up with a dozen or so scenarios as to how we’d first meet, what I’d wear, what we would do. None of them ever included a funeral. I look up into David’s warm, handsome face and all care and pain vanish on the spot. This is no mere friend. This is David.

  The minister reads a benediction, and Danielle’s parents throw red rose stems on her coffin. We are all invited to follow suit. The moment it’s all over, I am in David’s arms, covering my face and weeping, a mass of emotion. I introduce him to Danielle’s parents and they are agog. “You mean you’re that David?” they ask, and I realize Danielle’s parents know more about my private life than my own mom.

  The thought unleashes a new torrent of tears, and David resumes his bear hug, this time shushing me soothingly, stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head. I can’t believe how natural this seems, being with him. It’s impossible to believe we’ve never met till today.

  After the proceedings conclude, David and I stop for a bite at the first little dive we can find. Turns out it’s Italian, and the waiter barely speaks English. David puts him at ease by conversing in Italian, which results in free cheesy garlic bread for us both. Viva, Italia! We have dinner and chit chat about anything and everything, neither of us giving any hint that any of this is weird.

  “Sooooo,” I say at length.

  “Yes?” he replies, cocking his head to the side and suppressing a grin.

  “So, that remark on the phone about ‘being here’ with me. That was for real.”

  “Looks like it.” he says with a wry smile.

  “I can’t believe you came all this way just for me. Well, and for Danielle too. You’re a class act, Rosselini.”

  “Umm, actually, I was planning on coming back in a couple of weeks anyway.”

  “Oh? Is there a conference here in the city?” I ask.

  “Not exactly. I’m moving here.”

  “You’re what?” I bellow, frightening all of the diners seated within a twenty-foot radius.

  Alex chooses that very moment to text me, asking how I’m doing and how the funeral is going. His considerateness is lost on me, and I feel I’ve just had the air knocked out of me – but I don’t know if it’s in a good or bad way. All I know is that I’m in shock. David is here, to stay.

  * * *

  Throughout the course of our conversazzione I learn that David has some new business prospects based in the city and San Jose.

  “It just seemed practical to make the move. Nothing compares to the experience of getting to know someone face-to-face when you’re developing a relationship.”

  I instantly feel a sting in my heart. This is what David and I never had – that in-person connection where you see every nua
nce that crosses the other’s face, every smile, every twinkle of the eyes, every gesture and posture. We never had that, till now, now when it’s too late.

  He picks up on my train of thought and quickly amends, “I find it important in growing a team and business. And I was ready to come back to the states. I’m building a houseboat in Sausalito, actually. It was supposed to be finished by now, but you know contractors. My sweetie will be coming over when it’s done.”

  I frown involuntarily, even though I know better. “How does Giselle feel about moving here?”

  “Haha! I’m talking about Matilda.”

  “Oh, new girlfriend?” I ask.

  “Not so new. Though she is rather young. About seventeen, actually.”

  I gasp in mild horror, and he laughs then chokes, unable to answer for a minute or so. And I wonder if he has somehow been run out of Italy for having an affair with this youth. When his powers of speech return, he manages to blurt out, “Matilda is my Australian sheep dog. She’s just over two years old in people terms.”

  I sit dumbfounded but relieved, as he chokes and coughs and excuses himself to the restroom to regroup and dry his tears of laughter.

  I take that moment to view Alex’s text.

  ALEX: Kisses. This sort, tonight. My right hand reaches, and palms your cheek, lingers there for a moment, and slides back around to the nape of your neck...

  ME: Oh God…dying

  ALEX: I draw you toward me, and move to meet you with my mouth. Eyes, looking deeply into yours, smiling, slowly closing as our lips meet in a kiss that’s long and soft and honey sweet

  ME: the things YOU say!

  ALEX: I slowly part my lips, as my other hand reaches around to the small of your back, and I pull you tight against me

  ME: Yes...........

  ALEX: And taste your lips with my tongue, licking them softly, so gently it almost tickles but, not quite. It's another feeling that arises, in your belly, and lungs, and legs, and one I can feel in your chest as you take a deeper breath. And in mine, as my tongue finds yours, and we sample each other's mouths, and heat begins to fill our faces and bodies, and I pull your mouth tighter, more passionately to mine

  ME: &^%$

  ALEX: I slide my hand, the one on your neck, up into your hair, where it finds a handful of silken strands, that I tug lightly, cupping your head

  ME: You are killing me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  ALEX: And our mouths dance, our tongues and lips seek, and find bliss. The world melts. Our bodies seek each other, pressing tighter, more urgently. And you can feel me below, rising, and pressed into you.

  I lower my hand to your ass, and pull you tighter into me.

  ME: More

  ALEX: And my mouth wanders to your neck, your throat your breasts.

  I slide your shirt down, one of those tank tops, that slips easily enough from your shoulders

  ME: Gurgle

  ALEX: And take your hardening nipple in my mouth, while my other hand grasps your other breast firmly,

  Now...you'd better get to work. LOL

  ME: MORE!

  ALEX: All right then. Come with me to the kitchen. I’m just making dinner. I lift you, behind your thighs, and rest you on the table. Lift your skirt. I peel away your panties, while I continue kissing you, exploring your abdomen with my tongue and mouth, and reach a hand between your legs, to feel your inner thigh, and slide my hand to warmer, moister zones

  ME: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

  Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh............ and then?

  ALEX: And now my hand is massaging your yoni, tantric style. From the outside, in, pressing you, and then small circular motions around your clit, as we both begin to focus on your most erogenous zones

  ME: You are incredibly giving

  ALEX: I gently clamp your clit between my fingers, and carefully tug, slide and massage your bud, being sure you're soaked before I slip my fingers inside, and make that 'come hither' gesture that sends your g-spot into little explosions. And I listen to your body, and just as you’re about to erupt, I stop. And firmly press against your whole pelvic mound. I want your excitement to build.

  ME: That won't take long, my dear

  ALEX: And when you begin to be able to breathe again, I start anew, sliding my fingers inside... And it gets a lot more lascivious after that, but you DO have to work. I'm reminded of a FB thing that said: “Nice guys always finish last. Because they make sure their women cum first.”

  ME: I am trembling

  ALEX: That, Cariña, is the desired effect

  ME: Oh? so then the desired effect is not to have me begging for more..... pleading to be with you always?

  ALEX: The desired effect was to give you great pleasure, and to enjoy and bask in your rapture

  ME: You already give me great pleasure…truly

  ALEX: I intend to give you much more. Brb

  David is gone for ages, thankfully, and returns just as I am trying to suppress a series of climactic convulsions.

  “Sorry ‘bout that. I got a call I’d been waiting for from the head of my development team, midstream, if you know what I mean. I went outside to call him back. Sorry to leave you hanging like that.”

  “I, uh, oh...no it’s fine,” I stammer, putting my phone away and still trying to regain composure.

  “Anyway, like I said, I’m building a houseboat where I intend to live with my dog. Giselle is taking care of her now, which should be fairly comedic, since she’s not a fan of dogs. But when Matilda comes, she will be traveling alone.”

  “When will Giselle be joining you?” I ask ingeniously.

  “She won’t.”

  “Oh.”

  Awkward silence.

  His phone keeps buzzing, and I can tell he most likely has pressing business, though he is too gracious to say so.

  “So where are you staying while your houseboat is being built?”

  “At a residential hotel – in the Tenderloin, of all places. I know. It’s not the greatest of areas, but that’s the only thing I could afford long-term right now. Corporate funds are tied up in confusing and complicated ways while I restructure the company and move it to the U.S. So I am basically a pauper for the time being.”

  “A penniless millionaire, eh?”

  “Hahahah yeh, something like that.”

  Another silence – more of a pregnant pause actually.

  “You should just stay with me,” I blurt out of nowhere.

  His eyebrows raise and his mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

  “I live really close to Sausalito and I know you like pets. You can stay as long as you need to. It’ll be fun.” I smile, trying to act peppy, but inwardly am terrified. A buzz in my lap alerts me to a text from Alex.

  ALEX: Forgive the interruption. I had to give a few things in the kitchen a good stirring. Now where were we? Ah, yes. With your legs spread on the kitchen table, and my fingers making you tremble and gasp.

  And gasp I do.

  David and I continue discussing his living arrangement and come to an agreement. Yes, he will stay with me. He has to go to San Jose tomorrow for a few days and then will only be at my place for a week or two thereafter, at which point his houseboat should be finished.

  As we part ways for the night, we share a big hug. It’s surreal in so many ways. This is our first real hug on the first day we’ve met face-to-face. And to think he will be living under my roof in just a few days. Ugh...what will I tell my mom? With guilty-daughter thoughts filling my head and handsome David filling my arms, and his subtle, intoxicating scent filling each inhalation, my phone buzzes yet again. Another text has just arrived. My head is swimming. And so is my heart.

  I try calling Alex from the car, but he doesn’t pick up. He texts back saying he is on a phone call with a verbose, female friend, a self-proclaimed drama queen who is going through yet another breakup. She needs to talk and Alex feels obliged to listen. He asks me to message him on Facebook when I get to the house.


  * * *

  Once home, I message Alex as requested, and he writes back telling me that he expects to be on the phone for quite awhile. His friend has a lot of venting to do. I reply that I understand and that we can chat later. He is having none of it.

  7:45 pm

  Alexander Armstrong

  You’re not going anywhere, Sugar, and neither am I. I’m not through with you yet. Not by a long shot. So, we’ll pick up exactly where I left you. With your legs spread on the kitchen table, and my fingers making you tremble and gasp. But my mouth is eager to taste you, to sample all of you.

  7:47pm

  Claire Nichole Eden

  I think that is a marvelous idea heehee

  7:48pm

  Alexander Armstrong

  Lean yourself back and arch, so that I can bury my face between your legs.

  7:49pm

  Claire Nichole Eden

  Don't be fooled by my calm online demeanor

  I'm a wreck here!!!!!!!!

  7:50pm

  Alexander Armstrong

  A lovely wreck I'm certain.

  7:51pm

  Claire Nichole Eden

  My heart is racing

  7:52pm

  Alexander Armstrong

  I take your clit between my lips, and mouth you, and taste your honey while my one hand reaches under your ass to pull you into my mouth, and the other reaches up to play with your lips, so that you can taste what I taste, and suckle my fingers, while I explore you with my tongue

 

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