Clean Start

by S. M. Shade

  “Just thinking about how tight you’re going to wrap those legs around me when I eat your pussy.”

  Her chest rises and falls, and she shakes her head, looking away with a grin. I catch her off guard, coming up behind her before she can turn back around. Her small body is warm against my chest when I wrap an arm around her, pulling her back against me. Her skin smells like the cherry body wash she favors, and I lick at the scent on her neck. “Don’t even try to act like you don’t like my dirty talk.” My finger flicks over her hard nipple. “Your body gives you away.”

  “I do like it,” she murmurs, tilting her head back.

  “Have you been thinking about the dirty things you want to say to me tonight?” My hands wander to her waistband, hooking inside and pulling them down.

  “Like mud puddles and the soles of shoes,” she giggles.

  “Not even close.”

  Her eyes close, and she groans when I slide a finger between her legs. Already wet. Perfect.

  “I can’t talk dirty. It’ll sound stupid,” she breathes.

  “Not to me,” I promise. “Now, get your sexy ass in the bed because we have one night left here and every second I’m not inside of you is a waste.”

  After the buildup and teasing all day, we’re both ravenous for each other, and I barely have her in the bed before I’m sliding inside of her. It’s like a switch is flipped and she becomes the insatiable, passionate lover that rests just behind that youthful innocence.

  She gasps and whimpers through her first orgasm, trying not to wake the kids, then grins up at me and rolls us over so she’s on top. She’s gorgeous like this. Wild hair stuck to damp skin, perky tits thrust out as she teases me, grinding against me without actually letting me inside. Now is the time. “Such a tease. Talk to me, V. You can do it. Call me names, whatever you want. Anything goes.”

  Biting her lip, her cheeks flush and she grinds against me. “Does that feel good?” she says, testing the waters.

  “So good. Tell me what you’re going to do.”

  “I’m going to drive you crazy, then fuck you until you…come inside me,” she says, faltering a little at the end. She’s getting the hang of it now.

  She grabs my cock and guides it in, a satisfied grin on her face when I groan, “Fuuuuck, yes.”

  I’ll never forget the next words out of her mouth as she fucks me. Gaining confidence, she thrusts her hips and says, “Yeah, feels good, doesn’t it you…fucking idiot.”

  It takes a second for it to register, but I can’t help my response. My chest nearly bursts with restrained laughter that only manages a few seconds before erupting. Her face turns bright red, and I feel bad, but I can’t stop laughing. She called me a fucking idiot. To turn me on. Priceless.

  “I told you!” she exclaims, slapping my chest. “I’m not saying anything else!”

  She starts to get off me. Still chuckling, I roll us over and thrust into her hard and fast. “Neal! God!” she cries out, her hands clawing my ass.

  In less than a minute, I feel her pulse around me and let myself go. It’s got to be the first time I’ve gotten off while fighting the urge to laugh. Leave it to this crazy girl to give me a new experience when I was attempting to get her outside of her comfort zone.

  “Neal,” she whispers, rolling over and pulling a pillow over to her.

  “Hmm?” I kiss down her back and pull the covers up over us.

  “We will never speak of this again.”

  A snort of laughter leaps out of me. “You mean the fact I made you come so fast, or that you think I’m a fucking idiot?”

  “Both seem like excellent topics to avoid.”

  “You’re adorable.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Not even close, sweetheart.”

  # # #

  “We have four whole hours,” Veronica emphasizes. “I told Aiden’s teacher I’d pick him up at three. There’s no reason for him to stay late when I’m not working.”

  “Bailey won’t be back until five. My sister is taking her to some spa for a girl’s day.”

  Veronica leans against the kitchen counter. Ever since the night I got her naked against the wall in here, it’s all I can think about when I walk into this room. “So I can take my time with you,” she says. Her expression turns impish. “How open minded are you?”

  A tendril of red hair hangs free of her ponytail, and I tug on it. “Do you have something kinky in mind?”

  She shrugs and opens the fridge. “It’s pretty low on the kinky scale. Probably a two.”

  “You have a kinky scale? What’s a ten?” I grab my bottle of water. Something tells me I’m going to need to be hydrated.

  Her head pops over the fridge door, and she wears a wicked smile. “Me fucking you with a strap on.”

  It feels like none of the water I just took a swig of actually goes down the right pipe. Choking, I do my best not to spray it all over her floor. “What the hell?”

  “What? I saw it in a porno. It looked kind of hot.”

  I don’t know if she’s screwing with me or serious, but we’re going to get something straight. “Nothing goes in my ass. If anyone is taking it in the south mouth, it’s you.” I shake my head and grin at her. “You can’t talk dirty during sex, but you can discuss strap-ons?”

  “It’s different.” She steps back holding a can of whipped cream and bottle of chocolate sauce. “Now I want to make myself a cock sundae.”

  “I do already have the nuts.”

  Throwing an expectant glance back over her shoulder, she heads to the bedroom. By the time I’ve drained the bottle of water and followed her, she has covered the bed in a beach towel, and stands beside it, stark naked. I love that she is so comfortable with her body. I’ve hooked up with women years older than her who spend so much time trying to cover up and hide perceived flaws, no matter how much I assure them they’re beautiful.

  Veronica has no problem being nude. I don’t think she realizes how amazing that is. It’s not like she flounces around, showing off, she just doesn’t shrink away from showering together or lounging naked with me once we’re done. Her confidence is sexy as fuck.

  “Okay, lose the clothes and lie down.”

  Her little bossy act is adorable. She’s usually submissive in the bedroom, which I also love about her, but there’s no way I’m passing up one of her long, slow blow jobs, so I’m perfectly fine following directions this time.

  Shucking off my pants and underwear together, I hop on the bed, fold my arms behind my head, and grin up at her. “At your service.”

  She smiles at me, her gaze slowly sliding down my bare chest to my cock, that’s ready and waiting. “Wow, that was fast. It’s a wonder it didn’t make a noise when it popped up.”

  Grinning, I ask, “What kind of noise?”

  She crawls over me, straddling my thighs and shaking the bottle of chocolate sauce. “Maybe like boing? Did you ever play with those springy door stoppers when you were a kid?”

  Laughter shakes my chest. I’ve never had so much fun with a woman, especially during sex. Is there any adult who can’t instantly recall that sound? It seems to be a shared childhood memory for a few generations. “I’ll never get that out of my head now.”

  My breath catches when she squirts the chocolate syrup on the head of my cock. Cold rivulets run down to my balls, but she adds some chocolate to them too. The feeling of it running down my ass crack doesn’t scream sexy, but I’m not complaining. Leaning over, she gives the head of my cock a single lick before grabbing the whipped cream. By the time she’s done, I can’t see anything but chocolate and whipped cream. It’s going to take her forever to lick all that off.

  Awesome.

  She adds a few finishing dabs of whipped cream to my nipples and a trail down my chest before tossing the bottle aside. She leans over me and rubs her tits on my chest, letting the cream cover her nipples as well, and I can’t resist. My tongue darts out to lick it off, and she hums. We’re both going to be a
mess after this, and I’m already thinking of how I’m going to fuck her in the shower.

  She licks the whipped cream off my nipple, then trails her tongue over to clean the other as well. My hands wander to her hair as she starts kissing a downward trail, and she sits up, shaking her head with a grin. “Hands back behind your head.”

  She’s going to kill me.

  I comply and watch her as she continues down to my cock. Fuck, but she’s so good at this. It seems like she gets better every time. Part of it is the way she seems to love it. There’s nothing like a blow job where the woman seems to be getting just as much out of it. Veronica teases and licks, tortures me with her lips and tongue, letting out the sexiest little hums and moans along the way.

  I’m lost in the sensations, so close to coming, when I hear something that fills me with horror and panic.

  “Veronica?”

  Bailey’s voice carries from the living room, getting closer as she adds. “Are you here? Dad’s not home and I can’t get in our apartment. I need our extra key.”

  “Fuck,” I hiss, rolling off the bed as Veronica jumps off of me.

  Panic controls my reaction, and I jerk on my underwear while Veronica hisses, “Window!”

  Thank fuck we had it open, all I have to do is unlatch the bottom of the safety screen. It swings out, and I practically fall through it into the yard. It doesn’t even occur to me that it’s daylight, not even noon, and I’m now lying in the yard in my underwear, coated in whip cream and chocolate. It’s running down my legs. I can feel it sticking my ass cheeks together as I leap to my feet.

  There’s nothing to do but make a mad dash for my apartment. I’m barely on my feet before I turn and run…right into Aiden’s kiddie pool full of water. The plastic edge scratches both my shins, and I go down hard, face first in the tepid water, and I swear the splash couldn’t have made more noise.

  I scramble out of the pool, yanking my underwear up when the weight of the water makes them droop, and dart toward the street again. I just have to make it around the park without being seen.

  No.

  No, this isn’t happening.

  An ice cream truck sits right in front of the park, and I’m being stared at by no less than ten people—adults and kids—gathered around it. This is not the treat they were expecting. The sight freezes me in place for a moment, and I realize what they’re seeing.

  A man in nothing but soaking wet, white boxer briefs, with the crotch and ass stained brown. A mixture of chocolate and water runs down my legs, making it look to all the world like I just shit myself.

  I can’t blame them for gawping at me. Even for Violent Circle, this is pretty bad.

  There’s no explanation or apology that’s going to cover this, and I still need to get home before Bailey sees me, so I just start running again. Raucous laughter follows me around the corner of my apartment. Of course, the Frat Hell guys would have to be out there.

  My temporary relief at being out of view is crushed with the realization that my house keys are in my pants pocket on Veronica’s floor. Fuck. I can’t get in. And there’s no way I can go back for my pants.

  Leaning against the brick wall, I catch my breath and try to figure out what to do. How the hell did I get myself in this position? I’m not a damned teenager, but I sure feel like one at the moment.

  Denton steps around the corner of the brick wall I’m ready to bang my head against, and snorts out a laugh. “Dude, I lost the rock, paper, scissors challenge so I had to be the one to come see what the hell is going on.”

  With a groan, I lay my head back against the wall. “I didn’t want Bailey to see me at Veronica’s. She doesn’t know we’re seeing each other.”

  “And her finding out scared you so much that you shit yourself?”

  “It’s chocolate. Don’t ask.”

  “Don’t need to,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, we’ll cut through the back yards to my place and you can clean up.”

  “Thanks.” My head is on a swivel the whole walk to his apartment while I beg the universe to let me make it there without seeing anyone else.

  The universe has a shitty sense of humor.

  I make it to the apartment without running into any neighbors, but Denton failed to mention they had a damn cookout going on with half the kids from the college. As soon as we step inside, no less than eight pairs of eyes are on me, and the place falls silent.

  The guys playing beer pong look up from the table, and someone pauses the video game the three people on the couch are playing.

  Denton grins at my glare when I shake my head. “I hate you.” The asshole wasn’t trying to help. He was bringing the show home for his friends.

  Jani and Noble take a second away from trying to devour each other’s faces and both burst into laughter. “Having a bad day?” Jani asks.

  “My ass cheeks are stuck together with chocolate. I’ve been better.”

  “Chocolate, sure, let’s go with that,” Noble says, and everyone laughs when I flip him off. “You can use my shower. There are shorts on my dresser you can borrow. You don’t want Dent’s pants, he has crabs.” His gaze returns to my brown ass. “On second thought, keep the shorts.”

  “It’s chocolate!” I insist, at the same time Denton yells, “I got rid of them months ago!”

  I don’t have time to delve into the subject of Denton’s crotch critters. Bailey is home alone and wondering where I am. What the hell am I going to tell her?

  Different stories run through my head as I shower, and I finally settle on something simple and hopefully believable.

  Noble’s shorts are made for his young, skinny, frame, but I manage to get them on. The moose knuckle I’m now sporting is in no way attractive. It looks like sad puppy dog eyes, and the walk home is only going to be slightly less embarrassing than my sprint home with the leaky ass look.

  “Ow! Look at all that sexy!” Jani hoots when I return to the living room.

  The laughter follows me through the apartment, and only fades when I’ve stepped out the back door. I manage to make it home without running into anyone else, and Bailey opens the back door when I tap on it.

  “Uh…those aren’t your shorts,” she says as I step inside. Veronica stands behind her, trying not to laugh. Like she wasn’t the one who doused me in chocolate and whipped cream in the first place.

  “Yeah, I was at Noble’s and one of the idiots spilled beer on me. Noble loaned me his shorts. Why are you back so quick? Did something happen?” Changing the subject seems the best way to go at this point.

  “The spa was closed down by the health department because a bunch of people got a rash from their hot tub. Aunt Jill offered to take me with her to eat some vegan, farm to table, artisanal, locally sourced food, but I said no thanks.”

  Veronica pulls out a kitchen chair and has a seat. “You passed? You could’ve seen a man bun and handlebar mustache sporting hipster man in his natural habitat.”

  They delve into a conversation, and I slip out of the room to change clothes. At least Bailey bought my excuse. This time.

  I’m too old for this shit.

  # # #

  The phone call I got from George this morning put me in a great mood. He’s found a place and we’ll be able to move faster than I anticipated. It’s a good time to get rid of some junk and get a head start on packing up.

  Bailey looks up at me from the floor where she’s sorting through DVD’s as she packs them. “Can I give these kiddie cartoons to Aiden? I don’t watch them anymore.”

  “Sure, just make a stack of whatever you don’t want.”

  “I’m going to miss him and Veronica.” It’s the first negative thing she’s said about the move. Up until now, she’s been excited. Now that we’re actually preparing to move, it’s probably become real to her. This is the only place she can remember living, so of course she’ll miss her childhood home, especially because it wasn’t such a bad place until the new management took over.

 
“You’ll still see them often. They’ll still be our friends.”

  Bailey chews her lip and nods. “Becky has a boyfriend now. And since they got together, she hardly talks to me or any of her other friends. They just spend all their time together.”

  It’s funny but horrifying how serious kids seem to be about middle school relationships. I’m not sure why she’s comparing moving away from our friends though, until she continues, “Amber said it was the same way with her older sister. Once they’re dating, they don’t have time for anyone else.”

  “That’s not how a healthy relationship works, but you guys are a little young to worry about that stuff right now.”

  “I know, but if Veronica starts dating that firefighter she likes, she might forget about us when we aren’t right across the street.”

  I freeze, my hand halfway to the box I’m packing. “What firefighter?”

  Bailey shrugs, popping open a DVD case to check that the disc is inside before adding it to the box. “She met him when he came to the hotel, the day the sprinklers destroyed everything.” Clueless she’s just blown my world apart, she gets to her feet and heads out the door. “I’m going to take these DVD’s to Aiden.”

  The sprinkler catastrophe was a long time ago, and she never mentioned him to me. I know we haven’t made promises to each other or anything, but the time we spent together at the hotel…I thought we were on the same page. It’s been on the tip of my tongue to start a conversation with Bailey about how she’d feel if I was in a relationship. I was just waiting for the right time.

  Fuck, maybe I waited too long.

  Anger and jealousy war inside me as I picture Veronica with some asshole tough guy who gets women by running into burning buildings. Fuck. No.

  Not fucking happening.

  Chapter Twelve

  Veronica

  Bailey sits at my table, eating a popsicle while Aiden looks through the DVD’s she’s just brought him.

  “Mom!” he pipes up. “Can I watch Batman?”