Promise

by Trinidad West

  When James moved his hand to the buttons of her blouse, all Dennie felt was impatience, but he seemed determined to take his time. He studied each bit of skin revealed by each unbuttoning until he reached the last button and pushed the blouse open.

  She closed her eyes, suppressing a shiver, when he ran his fingers gently over the top of her breasts.

  Finally he released her hands so he could pull her blouse off. One of her bra straps slipped off her shoulder, and James tugged down the cup and took her breast in his hand—and just gazed at it, standing absolutely still.

  Dennie started thinking again. He'd never seen a forty-year-old breast before, had he? Even in the dark, she was sure it couldn't stand up to the much younger breasts he was probably used to. She should have followed her instincts. There was no way the adult reality of her body would live up to his teenage fantasies of her. Thank God he hadn't given her the chance to tear off his clothes yet. Now, how was she going to get them both out of this gracefully?

  "James."

  "Shh."

  Think, Dennie, think.

  Then, miraculously, he lowered his head and kissed her breast.

  Stop thinking, Dennie!

  His tongue flicked across her nipple, and Dennie felt an answering throb between her legs. His tongue circled her nipple and then he clamped his mouth down on it. Dennie tangled her fingers in his hair, and James' other hand started inching her skirt up her leg. Then his hand was under her skirt, sliding up her leg and around her back to the waistband of her panties, where it stopped. He gave her breast a little parting kiss and raised his head to look at her.

  "I've always wanted to do that," he said.

  "Oh."

  Dennie didn't even care that she couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. James was running one finger along the inside of her waistband, from the middle back to the middle front. He smiled when he found the little tear in the side seam. Dennie couldn't even bring herself to care that he'd discovered she was wearing past-their-prime underwear.

  Just touch me, she wanted to scream. But she wouldn't beg.

  "I want to know what you like," he whispered as he kissed her behind her ear.

  He pulled back to watch her face and his hand moved down to cup her mons through the thin cotton.

  "Do you like that?"

  Dennie nodded and closed her eyes. She couldn't watch him watching her. She locked her hands behind his neck to hold herself up, because she didn't think her legs were going to do the job much longer.

  He didn't move his hand when he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her lightly. When he pulled her lower lip into his mouth she realized she was moving her hips, trying to rub against his hand.

  "I can feel the heat coming from you," he said, but still he didn't move his hand.

  Dennie whimpered. She was getting wetter by the second, and she knew James could feel it through her panties. Half an hour ago, it would have mortified her to let him know how desperate she was for his touch. Now it aroused her even more, and she pushed herself rhythmically against him. Then she realized he was smiling at her. She couldn't bring herself to move away from him, but she made herself still her hips.

  "You're teasing me," she accused.

  "Not intentionally."

  Dennie took a shuddering breath. "What are you trying to do then?"

  "Live out a fantasy."

  "You've fantasized about me?"

  James ran a finger down her cheek and said, "I used to all the time. I hadn't for years before I heard your voice on the phone." He moved his other hand up her body and pressed it against her belly. He ran his tongue along her ear and sucked on her earlobe. "All week," he said, "I couldn't stop thinking about all the ways I wanted to touch you. I was supposed to be learning about classroom management, but my head was full of images of you like this, hot and wet and wanting me."

  His fingers slipped tantalizingly under the waistband of Dennie's panties, and she got an inkling of what he was waiting for. She took his face between her hands and kissed him slowly, stroking his tongue with hers and learning the taste of him.

  "Touch me," she whispered against his lips. She felt his hand tremble, but he didn't move it. "Touch me, James," she repeated. "Please."

  He made a gratifying sound deep in his throat as he reached into her panties and his fingers plunged into her wet folds. Dennie could hear his unsteady breathing, and she could hardly believe this was James being driven wild just from touching her. There was certainly no doubt as to the effect she had on him.

  Finally, he leaned the length of his body against her, and she felt his erection pressed against her hip. She wanted to reach down and touch him, but she was afraid of doing anything that might make him stop stroking his finger up and down alongside her clit, almost, but never quite, touching it, driving every other thought from her mind.

  When he slipped his finger inside her and rubbed his thumb over her clit, she came so suddenly and so forcefully she thought her heart would stop. Her body thrashed against him, and if not for the wall behind her and James' arm around her waist, she probably would have crumpled into a limp heap when the sensations eased.

  "I want to see how many times I can do that to you tonight," James said breathlessly.

  "OK," Dennie readily agreed. She had to focus on forming the words. "Just don't kill me. Too much of a good thing, you know."

  "Do you think a person can die of too much pleasure?" he asked, his hand warm on her breast.

  "I don't know, but I think my legs are going to give out from too much pleasure."

  "But first..." James said, and he reached around behind her and unfastened the single button at the waist of her skirt and gave it a little nudge that sent it falling to the floor. Then he unhooked her bra and pulled slowly it down her arms.

  "Another part of the fantasy?" Dennie asked to break the intensity of his gaze.

  James nodded and led her by the hand to the mattress. As she collapsed onto it, she felt him take hold of her panties and pull them off. She pushed the pile of blankets to the side and settled onto her back, but when she saw that James was just standing and watching her, she sat up and wrapped her arms self-consciously around her knees.

  "How 'bout you take your clothes off too," she suggested.

  Dennie's stomach fluttered at the sight of James kneeling on her bed and pulling his shirt over his head. If she had ever thought to fantasize about him, this would definitely have been part of it. She watched hungrily as he unbuttoned his shorts. Then he stopped.

  "You." It seemed to be the only word he could get out.

  Dennie crawled across the mattress to him. She could feel him watching her as she took hold of the zipper tab of his fly and pulled it slowly down. She nudged his shorts down to his hips, careful not to let her fingers brush against his hard cock, thinking to tease him as he had teased her. But when she slid her hands up and down his chest and under the waistband of his boxers, her self-control abandoned her. She had to touch him. She had to taste him.

  She pushed boxers and shorts down to his knees and bent down to kiss his cock, to taste it, to take it into her mouth and circle her tongue around it. James moaned and his fingers clenched in her hair.

  "Dennie…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Dennie wait."

  Understanding, she ran her tongue one last time up the length of his cock and kissed a path up his firm belly to his chest, where she paused to gently bite a nipple, and on to the tender skin just above his collarbone, which she discovered she couldn't tear herself away from. His cock throbbed against her belly, but she was only dimly aware of it as she slid one hand around his neck and pulled him in closer while she licked and nipped and kissed. She had an urge to completely immerse herself in him, to devour him.

  Her mouth did not leave his neck when he twisted around to a sitting position and kicked off his pants. Not until he grabbed her at the waist and hauled her up to the head of the bed with him did she pull back and look at him. He hovered over her,
his cock barely nudging against her eager pussy.

  "Tell me what you want, Dennie," he urged, his voice tight.

  Dennie smiled. She could well imagine that a young man might fantasize about a woman begging him for sex. Imagining herself in the starring role of such a fantasy was a little more difficult to wrap her head around, but she was willing to give it a go.

  She pushed herself up onto her elbows and brushed her lips against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, James."

  She saw his eyes widen, and she knew she had surprised him.

  She angled her hips against him, inviting him in, as she bit his ear lobe and growled, "I'm hungry for you."

  "Oh, God, Dennie," he moaned and finally sank into her.

  Dennie locked her legs around his waist and her fingers in his hair as James rained little kisses all over her face and her neck. He moved slowly inside her, sending the most wonderful, languorous sensations through her body.

  "You're humming," he said after a moment, or maybe it was several moments.

  Dennie opened her eyes. Is that what she was hearing? "Well, I'm in a very happy place," she explained. She ran her hands down his back to his delicious firm ass, which she squeezed at the same time she squeezed her pelvic muscles around his cock. He moaned and lowered his head to her shoulder, so she squeezed again, intensifying the sensation of his movements inside her.

  In a dizzyingly fast movement, James rolled them over, and Dennie found herself on top of him, her hands braced on either side of his head.

  "Do that again," he said.

  Dennie squeezed her pelvic muscles again. "That?"

  "Mmm…"

  She raised herself up and rocked gently on him as she squeezed and released, squeezed and released.

  Suddenly James grabbed her by the hips. "Don't move."

  It wasn't easy. Dennie wanted to move on him. She wanted to feel him sliding in and out of her, but she wanted even more to please him—to give him the absolutely best lay of his life. She felt it almost as a matter of honor, something she had to do for all the nearly middle-aged women in the world who had ever lusted after younger men. Especially beautiful younger men. She'd thought James looked good laughing and glistening in the swimming pool, but now, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed in ecstasy, he was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen.

  Squeeze, release. Squeeze harder—she was going to have the most interesting sore muscles in the morning—release. It was obviously giving James pleasure, but she wanted to send him over the edge. She moved her hands, which had been resting lightly on his stomach, in a slow caress up to his chest and back down to his belly until she bumped into herself, and she had an idea.

  "James, open your eyes," she whispered urgently.

  She couldn't help but smile at the hazy look in his eyes. It gave her the extra little bit of confidence she needed to run her hands up her body to her breasts. They overflowed from her hands as she lifted them and squeezed. When she squeezed her breasts together, James moaned and ran his hands down from her hips to her inner thighs. Now he squeezed, and Dennie drew in a sharp breath.

  She couldn't stay still any more. She began moving over him, sliding slowly up and down his shaft, acutely aware that he was watching her. She held on to enough awareness to be surprised that she could set all self-consciousness aside with this man, that she wasn't worrying about how her body looked, wasn't wasting energy holding her stomach in.

  The heat building where their bodies met was shooting through Dennie. Every time she squeezed her breasts she felt James swell inside her. He was at the edge, but something more was required to send him over. She wanted to give him more. He squeezed higher up her thighs, his thumbs just brushing against her pubic hair, almost making her forget that she was trying to drive him wild. Maybe she could please them both at once.

  She let her hands fall and placed them over his for just a second before moving her right hand that crucial inch to stroke her clit with one finger. She had expected to feel self-conscious then. She had expected it would be a chore to follow the idea through, but pleasure drove away all self-consciousness as her finger circled over her clit and James' hands on her hips guided her movements to match his thrusts.

  She felt his legs tensing as she threw her head back and closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the welcoming darkness. Dennie heard herself cry out, long and low, when her climax overtook her. She folded over onto James and fought to maintain the rhythm of their thrusts. A second later, James' hips jerked up, lifting them both off the mattress, and he came with a soft moan that she probably wouldn't have heard if his mouth hadn't been right next to her ear.

  She kissed him before his orgasm ended, relishing the taste of him, hungry still for more of him.

  James rolled over to his side, taking Dennie along with him.

  "Let me catch my breath," he said when he disentangled himself from her.

  She shrank away from him, suddenly mortified by her loss of control. He'd think she was desperate. God, maybe she had been desperate. She'd definitely been insane. And giddy with the realization that he wanted her. But she had gone overboard with the enthusiasm. Now, how was she going to send him on his way with her dignity intact?

  James reached a hand out and stroked her hip, but she couldn't bear to look at him. "You are so incredibly sexy, Dennie."

  She ventured a quick look at him, but his eyes were on her body, following his hand as his moved down her leg.

  "You're glowing," he said with a small grin.

  Dennie felt her bullshit sensors vibrate. "Glowing?"

  "It's sort of like a heat shimmer coming off of you."

  His hand was traveling back over her hip to the curve of her waist.

  "I'm not glowing," she said sensibly, but she could feel herself heating up again as James pushed her gently onto her back and spread his fingers out on her belly.

  "You are," James insisted, and he moved his hand down to tug her pubic hair almost-gently.

  Dennie gasped and arched her back. Dignity be damned. In another second she knew she was going to be writhing under his touch, and she didn't care. He stroked her legs, which she let fall open, and he obligingly caressed her inner thighs, nudging her legs farther open until she felt the caress of the warm night air on her pussy. Then she felt James' caress, moving in long strokes that satisfied and tantalized at the same time. That did it. Now she really was writhing.

  "I don't think I could ever get tired of seeing you like this," he whispered.

  He lowered his mouth to her breast and flicked his tongue across her nipple. The brief sensation made her push her pelvis up against his hand like some perverse marionette. He flicked his tongue again and the same thing happened.

  "Interesting," he commented.

  "Not fair," Dennie complained breathlessly.

  "Do you like this better?" his asked, and he pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.

  Dennie tried to answer, but the combination of sensations, the sucking and the stroking, had short-circuited her brain. The only thought she could form was that if he stopped, she would die. She made a sound that James must have understood as a "yes" because he was stroking her now with two fingers. Dennie floated on the sensation, never wanting it to end. Then James' touch became less teasing and more purposeful and his teeth grazed against her nipple, bringing on an orgasm that exploded through her with such force that she began to wonder if the aftershocks would go on all night.

  When it finally eased, she stretched contentedly, still experiencing the occasional pleasant shudder.

  "Dennie, you're killing me," James whispered unsteadily

  She smiled up at him. Just the sound of his voice, husky with desire, sent little tendrils of heat through her. She couldn't believe that she wasn't sated yet, that just the knowledge that he wanted her was enough to make her ache to feel him inside her again. She felt wanton and free, as if all the promise of summers past had finally been realized.

  She rose u
p on her elbows so she could whisper in his hear. "If you want me, take me," she said, running her tongue along the outside of his ear for good measure.

  He accepted her invitation with such gratifying speed that Dennie yelped at finding herself so promptly underneath him and filled by him.

  She came once more before James did, and when he pulled a blanket over them and held her in close, she felt like she had been shattered into pieces and put back together into something entirely new.

  * * *

  The air had not quite lost its morning freshness when Dennie woke, but it was already warm enough that they had kicked the blanket off so that it tangled around their legs. She hardly dared open her eyes to look at James sleeping next to her with an arm and a leg flung across her. She turned her head toward the garden and opened her eyes. The low angle of the sun showed clearly that the screens enclosing the porch needed hosed off, but for now their dustiness gave her a sense of privacy. She was lying naked on her back porch in broad daylight. With James. Naked James, with his fabulous thigh pinning her to the mattress.

  Damn. She had to pee. She slithered reluctantly off the bed and draped a blanket over her shoulders. Her ankle felt so much better, she hardly limped at all. Could it be the sprained ankle sex cure?

  Once in the bathroom, she couldn't resist a quick shower, but she didn't get dressed. It didn't seem fair to be fully clothed while James was still sleeping naked on her porch. If he was still sleeping. She pulled on her bathrobe and went back down to the kitchen to peek out the door at him.

  He was still asleep but, much to Dennie's disappointment, he had pulled the blanket up to cover himself from the waist down. Even so, she spent a minute watching him sleep. Would he wake up pleased with what had happened the night before or would he be mortified now that the passion had passed and the deed was done? Dennie was pretty sure she would start feeling mortified as soon as he woke up and she had to look him in the eyes in the daylight. For the moment, though, all she felt was a satisfied ache and a need for coffee.