by Kira Blakely
No, he’s not. He wasn’t sweet when he had Lola’s tits in his hands.
Good point.
“They say they’re not getting the alerts from my security system,” I explained. “I’m just going to get a new one when I can. On the bright side, though, you know, it’s just some teenagers or something, having a laugh. If they’re taking anything, it’s just little treasures that are personal to me. They’re not taking valuables.”
Andrew leaned his elbows on the bar and his massive paw of a hand spread across mine. “Doesn’t it alarm you that they’re taking little personal items of yours? That’s the kind of thing a psychopath does.”
I looked down at his warm hand on mine. “Um,” I said. If he wanted me to listen to him, he shouldn’t have touched me because now I couldn’t think about anything else. My head swam.
“Stay with me,” Andrew coaxed. “Stay with me until you get your new security system.”
“Andrew,” I chastised him, withdrawing my hand from beneath his and straightening my stance. “I can’t just move in with you. You know that.”
“Why not?”
“What would Lola think?” It fired out of my mouth and I couldn’t call it back—and did I want to? Didn’t I want to have this fight?
“Lola would think that it was a completely normal thing for a man and his girlfriend to do,” he explained, his tone mild and slow, like he was teaching me, not fighting with me. “She knows about you, Michelle. And—in spite of me—she’s let a couple boyfriends move into her house in the past, too.”
I furrowed my brow at him. “She knows about me? I’m not your girlfriend, Andrew. I’m your lawyer.”
His gray-green eyes darted away and he redirected his attention to his beer, idly running his fingers over that instead. “I know that. But when she first met you—at the wedding—I told her that you were my girlfriend.”
At mere mention of that horrible moment, my stomach rolled and I realized I desperately did not want to talk about it after all. I just didn’t want to be with him. That was all. It was too much, and I’d already said I didn’t want to go back to caring. Wasn’t that still true? Wasn’t it truer than ever? I just wanted to work. That was my life now and I loved it.
“Michelle,” Andrew said, and I felt the chilly kiss of his beer-frosted finger on my cheek. My eyes flashed up to his and held there. Every part of me was frozen except for my heart. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe. But my heart was going like a drum pedal. “I was looking for you. That was why I was in the church. But Lola—she was jealous. She never acts like that. She never wanted me again after she had me. That’s who she is. But when she saw me with you—”
“She just had to have you again,” I said, “and you couldn’t resist her boobs.”
“I could easily resist,” he insisted, “but you walked out when I was pulling her top back up! She was the one coming on to me. You have to believe me. There’s nothing between her and me. I’ve been alone all month. Before I met you, I was alone for five years. And—if you’re really done with me—” His eyes searched mine, wincing beneath their thick brows. “—I’ll be alone for five more. Don’t you remember?” He passed his hand back and forth between us, indicating something passing in the space. “You said never. I said never, too. Never.”
God, he made me feel weak. My eyelashes drooped involuntarily, and I’m sure he interpreted that as a signal that I wanted to be kissed, even though I didn’t. I really didn’t. I needed to get out of here. I could walk. The fresh air would do me good.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and closed my eyes. Andrew’s rough lips brushed against mine and I took a step back. My eyelashes fluttered back open.
“You didn’t see it from my perspective,” I told him. I couldn’t kiss him. I couldn’t. He made a complete fool out of me; didn’t he get that? “It didn’t look like you were pulling her top up. It looked like you were caught.”
Andrew winced. “Okay. You’re right. It looked really bad, and there’s no way I can ever prove that my version of the events is correct.” He sighed and his hands clamped over mine, completely blanketing them. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I told him.
“Then fake it.” Andrew’s eyes crinkled in a genuine smile. “Fake it until you can trust me. Steal my phone and go through my texts when I’m in the shower. Open my mail while I’m at work. I don’t care. Do whatever you have to do, Michelle. I’m honest. I’m a good man.”
“No, you’re not,” I whispered. I was so sure of it. No one was good.
But he was already crowding into my space when I said it, and my neck loosened, bending back, allowing him to slither into my comfort zone. His hands were on mine. My body felt loose and weak. I knew it was going to be a matter of seconds until I gave up, and that only made me feel weaker. I let go.
“I am,” he whispered back, and his mouth descended onto mine, taking it hungrily and gently at the same time. I wanted to fight him but I couldn’t. I didn’t really want to fight him. I whimpered as his big hands scooped over my arms, setting off fireworks on every square inch that they touched, then rose to cradle my jaw and throat tenderly.
My panties grew damp. Quickly.
Our lips toyed over each other, half-kissing, as his hands skated higher and slid my chopsticks out of my bun.
“Take it out,” he growled against my open mouth. His hands grated over my back and down to my ass, clutching hard, like he was trying to mold clay. I obeyed. I yanked the pins and elastic out of my hair and let them fall. They may as well have disappeared. My hair came down around my shoulders and Andrew moaned in appreciation, burying one hand in my hair and yanking my head to the side, exposing my throat, arching my breasts. He kissed deeply into the muscle of my neck, almost massaging me with his mouth, and slowly dropped to his knees.
My capacity for remorse was obliterated. His hands slowly worked their way up my skirt, trapped against a black spandex and cotton blend as they crawled. He nipped at my pussy through my skirt and I laughed. His mouth was smeared with my lipstick now.
“Fuck yeah,” Andrew growled, wedging his hand between my thighs and rubbing into my pussy through the nylon of my panty hose. “No panties. Someone was feeling bold this morning.”
“I knew I was going to see you,” I breathed, dizzy now. Electricity seemed to jut from his fingertips and into me.
“You’re lucky you made it out of the courtroom unfucked,” Andrew replied. My panty hose came down in one swift yank and he grunted with satisfaction, sending his hand back up my skirt, sinking two fingers between my sopping lips. My knees buckled and I leaned on his shoulder and on the hand pumping into me for support. His fingers were vigorous, tireless, and I was shocked at the intense heat expanding in my nether region. He was making me come with two fingers, no clitoris play, in a matter of seconds. Impossible. “I missed you so bad,” he said, working me hard. “You’re always so wet for me, Michelle. Always so wet under your little skirts.”
“Oh, Andrew....” I shuddered and balled up against him, pussy clenching and drenching his hand as I came in a startling wave. It only lasted about five seconds, like a miniature earthquake, and when it was over, I pulled myself up straight and gazed around the room like some furniture might be knocked over.
“That’s it,” Andrew grumbled, pulling his hand out of my skirt. He seemed almost angry as he stood, glaring me down hotly. His hands went to the buttons on his white dress shirt and he worked quickly to flick them open, one by one exposing his immaculate chest. “Take off your dress. Now,” he commanded. The dress shirt hung open and he whipped it off and threw it to the ground. His pants unzipped and unbuckled next, sliding down his powerful thighs, into a puddle on the floor. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his staff stood fully in the air, hard and dark.
God, I missed him, too.
Chapter 11
Andrew
I was so hard, I was legitimately afraid that my dick
was going to rip like the Hulk.
I undressed in about seven seconds flat, heart pounding and hands trembling slightly. All I could think about was putting myself between her vanilla thighs. I wanted to make her melt and lick her up.
Michelle stared at my cock for a moment, then reached for the zipper that ran down the side of her wiggle dress. Why did she wear that thing to court? What did she think was going to happen? The zipper peeled slowly down, exposing a stripe of pale bare flesh.
I shook my head at the mere sight of it. “Faster.”
She wiggled loose from the dress but before she could kick it away from her legs, I was on her breasts, smothering myself between them. I groaned and grunted and I wanted to touch every inch of her. My hands slapped down over her juicy ass, digging my fingers into her and hoisting Michelle into the air. She shrieked in surprise as I carried her to the bar, dress still dangling from her ankles, and deposited her onto its surface. Now we were perfectly level.
“Move in with me,” I said again. I had to make this girl listen. “It’ll be safe with me. You’ll see.”
Michelle blinked at me with those doe eyes behind cat glasses, her hair all over the place, and a halo of faded lipstick around her mouth. I loved seeing her like this. She always started out so prim and proper but give me a few minutes with her and watch the transformation. “You just want to piss off Chet because you hate him, and you know he has a crush on me,” she postulated.
I grinned. She was good. “I do hate Chet,” I admitted. “But this is all about you. Think about all the free car maintenance you can get. All the improved security with a man around the house. Oh, and the sex. Think about the sex, Michelle.” I traced myself over her labia to remind her, and even that tiny gesture, skating between her velvety folds, brought my blood pressure to boiling. I couldn’t even tease her without crumbling myself.
“I don’t know,” Michelle waffled, biting her lower lip like a coquette and cupping her breasts in her hands. I’d noticed she had the habit of doing this whenever she felt insecure. “It’s probably too much sex, and I know how you love to come inside me. I’m probably pregnant as we speak.”
“I hope so,” I growled against her ear, and I meant it. I felt her tremble at the words and I slid the tip of my dick into her. We shuddered together, and I moved in and out, in and out, penetrating only an inch or two. “I can’t stop coming inside you, Michelle, so don’t even ask. I love the feeling of getting bigger and bigger, and popping... filling you with so much cum that you can feel it.”
“I can feel it,” Michelle whispered back, and I knew she loved it, too. I knew it. I clamped my jaw tight and closed my eyes, letting them roll back into my head as I slid completely into her. I wanted more foreplay but I couldn’t resist. Her walls twisted around me and I groaned deep in my throat. My hands came up to cup her plush, firm breasts, and I realized there was something that I needed to do. I amazed myself by pulling completely out of her again.
The world outside of her pussy was fucking frigid. I hated it.
“Lay down on the bar,” I instructed her.
Michelle bit at her lower lip, but she obeyed. I climbed on top of her and positioned my hard prick between her tits, letting it slide into her airtight cleavage. The sensation was nothing like her pussy, the way it would grip and milk me, but it was still so hot. She moaned and pressed her tits tighter together and I thrusted and thrusted until I felt a tingling at the tip of my head. Then I pulled away.
“Did you like that?” I wondered as I climbed off the bar.
“Yes,” Michelle answered without hesitation.
“Why?” It wasn’t like the space between her breasts was lined with nerve endings.
“Because you like it,” she answered, gazing up at me with starry eyes. I leaned closer just to be closer to her eyes. I think I was falling in love. That was the exact moment it happened. “Giving you pleasure gives me pleasure.”
Fuck, that was hot.
I closed my eyes and nodded. “Get down here,” I said, pulling her off the bar. “I want you to taste this.”
Michelle climbed onto her knees and then looked up at me uncertainly. “Taste myself?” she asked, incredulous, pointing one finger at my hard-on. “On you?”
“Oh, yeah,” I assured her, burying my fingers in her hair and guiding her onto my prick. “You taste so sweet. You’ll see.”
The first stroke of Michelle’s mouth down my shaft was tentative but then she must have realized that I was right. She sucked up and down with vigor, and I cringed at the intensity of it. I almost had to stop her a few times but I focused on breathing and the spots cleared from my eyes.
Still, I was a mortal man, and I could only stand a few minutes of the lavish treatment of her mouth. I pulled her off the floor and scooped her up into my arms. She clung to me as I carried her up the stairs and through my house, to the bedroom.
When I laid her on the bed, it was with reverence. She was so beautiful, I stretched her out like she was a masterpiece, tracing my fingers over her luscious hips, the valley of her little tummy, up to her full breasts, around her hard nipples. Her face was the best part of her entire body, and when my eyes traveled there, they were fixed. I swallowed.
“I think I’m in love with you,” I said. My dick pounded plaintively, probably wondering where we were going with all this foreplay, but I had to say it. I had to stop and say it.
Michelle blushed and shook her head like she was dizzy. “No,” she told me. I was pretty sure I was right, though. “You’re not.”
I leaned down and took a moment to savor the smell of her neck before I whispered against her ear, “Let me prove it to you.”
My dick went between her legs, sinking to the hilt, and her hot sex pulsed around me tightly. I shuddered and thrust slowly into her. I stretched her arms over her head and pinned her wrists down into the pillow. My strokes came faster. Her thighs stretched up and locked around my hips and I drove harder, forgetting gentility, forgetting love. The entire premise crumbled away from me and something ancient and animal took over. Michelle clawed into the pillow and pitched it off the bed so she could grab the headboard itself.
Using the headboard for leverage, increasing the resistance against my thrust, the sex entered a new dimension and I bucked into her like crazy. She pushed against me in her own kind of thrust and we worked together like a perpetual motion machine, her pushing down, me pushing in, and again and again and again.
“Fuck, Michelle,” I cried out to her, certain it wouldn’t be long. Her pussy fluttered around my shaft like she was having an orgasm and I looked at her face, her eyes rolled back in her head, mouth contorted in ecstasy. My hard dick went into her for the final time and then popped, spilling jet upon jet of cum deep into her body. I stretched over her, blanketing her from head to toe, and shuddered. “I’m sorry,” I murmured against her sweaty neck. “I know I’m crushing you.”
“In so many ways,” Michelle agreed lightly, giggling.
I peeled myself off of her and she grinned up at me. She still had those stars in her eyes. Did she love me, too? If she didn’t love me, what right did she have to keep smiling up at me like that?
I guess I did just make her come. If I wanted an honest reading on how much she loved me, I’d have to study her face when we weren’t floating in the afterglow.
After cleaning up and returning naked to bed, we curled together. I threaded my fingers through hers. She was spending the night. She hadn’t talked to me all month, and now, she was spending the night. It wasn’t moving in, but it was a start.
“You know, I really do love you, I think,” I murmured against her left tit as I lapsed off to sleep.
* * *
We were awoken in the morning by a loud rapping at the door. Michelle jolted upright, hair sideways and bleary-eyed, covering herself with the blanket. I was about to start threatening the life of whoever felt the right to come into my house, pound on my bedroom door, and scare my naked girlfriend. But then
it hit me: this was my weekend with Connie.
“Um, give me just a minute, baby doll,” I bellowed, clambering from the warm bed—still fragrant with good sex—and shoved some pants onto my legs. “I’ll be right there. Is your mom with you?”
“She already left,” Connie hollered back through the door. “Can I come in? Are you decent?”
“Not—” The door swung open and there stood poor, innocent Connie, blinking up at me... and then her eyes shifted to Michelle, still in the bed, blankets hitched up to her chin. “—entirely,” I finished weakly.
“Miss Michelle,” Connie greeted her, cocking her head to the side. “Why are you naked?”
“Um,” Michelle said, looking like a deer in headlights, if deer in headlights were very sexy. With that hair, she also kind of looked like a white Tina Turner right now. I had to grin at how utterly awkward she was being. “There was a spider in my clothes.”
“Oh, my god!” Connie cried, scanning the floor. “Is it dead?”
“Oh, it’s dead, all right,” I reassured her with a little grin at Michelle. “I beat it pretty good.”
Michelle’s face burned bright red.
“Well, it’s good to see you,” Connie told her, brow furrowing. “I didn’t think I was going to see you. What are you doing here? Are you spending the weekend, too?”
“No—” Michelle began. And I knew Michelle. If I wasn’t careful, she’d take the opportunity to flee.
“She is staying the weekend, actually,” I said. “Her house got broken into, and she’s scared.”
“I’m not,” Michelle insisted, a big, phony smile plastered to her face. “I just decided that I’m not as scared as I thought I was. I’m just going to go home, I think.”
“No,” I said in a downtrodden tone. “Stay.”
Michelle looked at me shrewdly.
“Why are you guys being weird?” Connie asked.
Okay, I had to maneuver Connie out of this room so Michelle could get dressed.
“Did you see the trampoline?” I asked, ushering her from the room.