Sam doesn’t wait around, inserting two more into me before applying pressure to my clit with his thumb. I move my hands to his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as I start to pant.
“Do you want me to keep going?” I look up at him, nodding vigorously because I never want him to stop. I want to feel this good for as long as possible.
“Oh, Sam! I think I’m going to come.” He smiles at my words, his thumb’s circular motions speeding up. I squeeze every part of body, getting ready to let go. When I reach my crest, I shiver against him, holding on with whatever strength I can muster. I bring my mouth back to his, wanting to feel him in every place I possibly can.
When our lips break a part, he takes his fingers out of me and brings them to his mouth, licking away the evidence of what just happened away. I try not to feel self-conscious, but he’s so bold with the way he conducts himself. I can’t look into his eyes while he tastes the juices I coated his fingers with.
His lifts my chin up and I think he’s going to comment on how bashful I am, but instead he tells me to,
“Get on the bed, Zara.” I don’t move for a few seconds. Every time I think he’ll do one thing, he does the other. I wish I could read him better, but I don’t say anything, going to the bed. I rest my feet on the floor, legs slightly open. Sam comes between them, kneeling down in front of me. Gingerly, I touch his hair. The dark strands stroke my fingers, softly running under my hands. His hands are on my thighs. They travel up to the hem, his fingers sneaking in and peeling my leggings from my skin. I maneuver to make it easier for him to pull them off.
The next thing to go is my underwear. Sam takes the same care, making me feel like he is worshipping me – even with the simplest of actions. I unclasp my bra, letting it fall of arms and into my lap. Sam throws it on the ground to join the rest of my clothing. From his kneeling position, he looks up at me. I’ve never been naked like this in front of anyone and the way his eyes drink in my body – it doesn’t make me feel bad, just exposed. Like he can see every inch of me. Like he can see into me.
He puts a gentle hand on my stomach, pushing me down, so I lie on my back. He kisses the tops of my legs, moving up until he reaches my center. My breathing gets deeper as I feel the heat from his mouth brushing against my folds. I dig my nails into my palms, my lips pressing into a thin line. He keeps in suspense and I’m about to ask what’s taking so long, when his tongue licks up my slit. I tightly shut my eyes and my hips raise on their own. Sam holds me down and continues to run his tongue along my core. I take my fingers from my palm to the bed, scrunching the covers up in my fists. He turns all of his attention to my clit, sucking on it and causing daggers of white heat to radiate through my body.
“Oh! Sam!” I gasp. I want to get to end, so my body can relax, but I also never want this to end. The warmth of his mouth attacks my senses, along with his tongue and hands. His teeth crape against me and when his tongue flicks my sensitive nerves, my body bursts around me. My fists get tighter and I arch my back, digging my cheek into the mattress. I come down with the soft thump, my body exhausted. Sam kisses his way up my body, reaching my face and holding himself over me. I thought I was completely spent, but seeing him above me like this, reawakens the flames in my lower belly.
While he’s shirtless, I want him completely naked like me. I go for his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them, pushing them past his hips. He steps off the bed to keep them the rest of the way off. I sit up and notice he’s about to go for his underwear, but I tell him to,
“Stop!” He looks at me curiously and I scoot my way over to the edge of the bed. “Let me.” I’ve made my voice softer for my request and Sam acquiesces, taking his hands off his compression shorts and waiting. I get off the bed, going to stand in front of him. I slip the tips of my fingers beyond the waistband and slowly pull them down. His penis springs out and I’m surprised by its size. I knew he was… big from how his bulge felt against y body, but I underestimated how big.
I pull his underwear the rest of the way down, ending up on my knees. His tip is right in front of my face and I can’t miss the opportunity to taste him. He made me feel so good and I want to return the pleasure. I lick the tip, my tongue just grazing it. I hear Sam sharply inhale. I take the next step, wrapping my lips around the head and moving down, letting his shaft enter my mouth. I go until he hits the back of my throat, but I can’t get him all the way in. I use my hand to hold the rest and begin to move it in rhythm with my hand.
“Fuck, Zara…” He sounds mystified and I lift my eyes to his face. His eyes are half-closed and I can see him straining. I swirl my tongue around the tip again, bringing my hand down to play with his balls. That’s when he suddenly moves backwards and his dick falls out of my mouth. I lick my lips and look up at him, wondering why he’s done that. “Fuck, Zara. You have no idea what you were doing to me.” I softly smile, confident that he appreciated my short blowjob. I stand up and kiss his lips, letting his tongue discover how he tastes on my skin. He rests his forehead on mine and suggest, “Let’s go back to the bed.”
We move together until the back of my legs hit the bed. I fall back on to the bed into a sitting position. I move myself back as Sam moves towards me. He crawls on the bed, making me move until my back hits the pillows at the head of the bed. I lie down on the covers and we’re back in to position we were before. Sam is holding himself up on his hands and knees as I lay under him. I cup his cheek and he dips down to kiss me. He breaks our kiss and asks me,
“Are you on birth control?” Weirdly enough I am. I did it for my last boyfriend and after we broke up, I stayed on, liking how it made my period a little more manageable. I nod to answer his question and he asks me another one. “Do you want me to use a condom?” I look into his eyes and I know he won’t make me feel bad, whatever my choice. Everything from my sexual education is telling me I should say yes. I’ve known Sam for a little over a week and it’s better to be safe than sorry. The birth control is pretty effective when it comes to keeping me from getting pregnant, but there are STDs. But something in me trusts him. Call it stupid, but,
“If you tell me you’re clean – I trust you.” I bring my leg up and wrap it around him. The expression on his face doesn’t change, but get closer to me. Our noses are almost touching and he moves to the side slightly, bring his mouth to my ear.
“You should be careful who you trust.” I don’t know how to take that. He picks his face back up and reaches over to his bedside table. He takes a condom out, ripping it with his teeth and rolling it down his shaft. There are so many questions I want to ask, but it will have to wait for later. He positions himself at my entrance and pushes in slightly. I lift my leg, using it to bring him closer. His movements are slow, the breach of my walls taking its time. I wrap my arms around his neck, touching my hands to my elbows. Once Sam is fully inserted inside me, he touches his face to mine, steadying his breath. The size of him is something I’m not used to and there’s a mild discomfort, but it’s overshadows by how blissfully sublime it is to have him inside me. I lift my hips, wanting him to move more. He takes my hint and starts sliding out. The starting pace is slow, his dick scissoring in and out of me in no great hurry.
“Sam?” There’s something in his eyes that I want to question, but he responds by picking up the pace. Our skin slick with sweat, our bodies moving together. I wrap my leg around his waist, making his strokes go deeper. His pace becomes more frenzied and I throw my head back, my walls closing around his thick shaft. I start to quiver, everything pooling at my center. I pull him into me, so we can kiss. “I’m coming, Sam,” I say against his mouth, and an orgasm rolls through me. He keeps going, drawing it out for as long as possible. I bite his bottom lip, letting it snap back when Sam grows inside me before coming as well. He rests his forehead on mine, making soft grunting noises as he spills into the condom. I hold on to him until both of us stop shaking. I put my head by the crook of his neck until he breaks our embrace, rolling off of me. He take
s the condom off, disposing of if in the trashcan by his bed.
I sit up and watch him. He locates his underwear, pulling it up and covering himself. I sit up on the bed, bringing my knees to my chest. I suddenly feel very naked and I want to put my clothes on, but I’m too self-conscious to just get up and start dressing. I wish I could just do what I want to do – it would make things so much easier. Sam continues to move around, getting something out of his drawer. He comes back to bed, sitting on the edge and offering me what’s in his hands.
“Here, you can wear this.” I take the clothes and see it’s a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. I put them on and then ask,
“Where’s your bathroom?” He gives me the directions – it’s just the door next to his room – and I leave to go pee. I look back at him before exiting the room and see him opening up his bed. I feel like the experience we just spent together has raised a lot more questions that it ha answered.
Walking into the bathroom, I look in the mirror first and I look electric. That doesn’t make much sense, but my nerves are on fire. After I’m done here, I’m going to ask Sam a bunch of questions. The two of us can’t shroud ourselves in so much mystery. It’s been easy so far because we’ve met in such contained situations, but when are lessons are over – if we’re ever going to see each other again, there has to be some opening up. I realize I’m being a little presumptuous, thinking he’s going to want to talk to me after we’re done with our baking lessons – but I hope he does. Ruby’s words are still in the back of my head, but I don’t want to judge Sam without giving him a chance.
I wash my hands and leave the bathroom, going back to the bedroom. I peek inside and Sam is sitting on the edge of his bed, facing away from me. He’s looking at something, but I can’t tell what. I realize he’s not the only one being vague. I’ve told him very little about my life. The bit I did reveal – Baker’s Corner – wasn’t even that descriptive. He doesn’t know that my Mom died and left me the shop. Maybe we need to move slow – at least emotionally.
“Hey.” Sam turns to me and puts whatever is in his hand back into his nightstand. He puts his legs on to the bed and under the covers, patting the space next to him. I get into the bed and watch him. The two of us lie down, but I turn over, resting my weight on my elbow and my head in my hand. Sam can tell I want to ask something, so he opens the floor for me.
“Do you want to talk?” I nod and he raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to say something. There are a lot of questions I have racing through my head. There’s so much I don’t know about him and I could spend an entire lifetime getting to know him. But, right now, we only have this moment I settle on one question.
“Why did you tell me I should be careful who I trust?” It made sense what he said – at least logically. I shouldn’t just jump into condom-free sex with someone I just met. It’s literally a safety hazard and one of the first things we’re taught not to do in sex ed. But I wasn’t thinking like that with Sam. I wanted to feel him – all of him – but I don’t think he would ever be careless with my health. It’s just – it confused me and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
Sam shifts a little and thinks before answering. The answer is probably a lot deeper than what’s on the surface. I feel like there’s going to be a lot of layers to peel back with Sam. Layers that I’m more than ready to dive into. I want to think that it’s coming from my innate curiosity, but I know it’s something deeper.
“There’s a lot of things we don’t know about each other and I don’t want you – I don’t want you trusting the wrong person. Even if it’s me.” He puts on a bittersweet smile and I wonder what he’s holding on to. I don’t want our encounters shrouded in the sadness the two of us obviously carry. I’d like him to tell me everything, but I also want to have fun. I already have my suspicions that we’re not going to move past a casual relationship, so – at the very least we can have fun with one another. I shift the mood, bringing up something that’s a little less of a downer. Starting small has typically worked well for me and maybe it will get Sam to relax a little.
“Well, let me tell you something about myself.” I put my hand on his chest, softly stroking it with my finger as I try to come up with a fun fact. I wouldn’t say I’m a particularly interesting person, but I have done a few odd and embarrassing things in my time. I decided to go with something from my youth, so I confess, “For the longest time, I didn’t know how the word of phrase, ‘hors d’oeuvres,’ was spelled. Like I knew the word and could say that, but whenever I saw it on paper – whenever I had to read it – I would pronounce it very American like because I hadn’t yet put two and two together. Basically, I would say whore-da-vore-ays. Finding out how wrong I was – it was not a great time. In fact, it was a little embarrassing.” Sam sits up on his elbows and looks at me like I’m kind of an idiot. Almost the same way the guy who finally told how to properly pronounce ‘hors d’oeuvres’ looked at me. Coming full circle and all that.
“No one ever corrected you?” I’m happy to see amusement on his face, a welcome change from how he was doing earlier.
“Eventually someone did. That’s how I found out I was wrong for all those years.” This last sentence surprises Sam even more, his eyes going even wider. I should be insulted, but it’s too funny how worked up he’s getting over such a small thing.
“Years?” I nod, somewhat annoyed if I might add.
“Yes, years.” I make a face at him and ask my own question. “You know what I think?” Sam shakes his head. “I think all those people who never told me I was wrong were in the same boat as me and didn’t want to admit they had no idea how to pronounce hors d’oeuvres.” He chuckles and lies back down. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the soft beat of his heart. His fingers play with my hair, softly running through the strands.
“I can’t say I had a similar thing. I learned French when I was younger, so I always knew how to read hors d’oeuvres. I even pronounced it with the fancy accent.” I pick my head up and look at him.
“You speak French?”
“Mais oui, ma cherie.” That’s one of the first things he’s told me about himself. I think going slow will work for him. I’ve found our solution.
“Okay, Mr. Fancypants.” I go back to resting my head on his chest and that’s how I fall asleep – with his hands gently on my body.
Chapter Thirteen: Sam
I wake up to Zara asleep on my chest. Her breath lightly breezes across my skin, her face serene as she dreams. I don’t want to wake her up, so I wait, looking at her until she is ready to wake up. While she sleeps, I think about last night. A lot happened. The sex was… amazing. I don’t usually do it… like that. It was like I was trying to connect with her. Or I think I was. The two of us keep a lot of ourselves hidden. I’ve begun to realize that we haven’t opened up much to one another. I know it’s been a short time, but there still seems to be a very present wall between us. Outside of telling Zara about my Mom thinking I’m selfish, I’ve been pretty vague about my life. Even when I told her about my Mom, I did my best to keep it hard to read. It could be a defense mechanism – never letting anyone get too close to me. That way no one can ever really hurt me – kind of like how my Mom did. It’s kind of like I have all the answers to my problems – or at least the reasons – but no plans to actually solve them.
Zara’s the same way – I mean with how vague she is. I don’t really know anything about her. All I do know is that she wants to raise some money so she can go back to upstate New York and renovate the bakery she owns with her Mom. I probably could have asked more questions, but if I opened those floodgates then I might have to reveal more parts of myself – and I’m not quite there yet.
Things did take a turn last night. I was being weird about using a condom. She said we didn’t have to and instead of moving forward with that great news – to be inside of her unsheathed would have been magnificent – I told her not to trust me in the most enigmatic way possible. And honestly, it might even be
too much to go into her bare. The sex we had last night is testament to that. But ever since my Mom got into my head with all her talk on how I live my life – I feel like I might not be the great guy that I think I am. I’m definitely not someone Zara should trust so implicitly. I can’t let her trust me until I trust myself. I didn’t want to hurt her – I’m worried I might have because she asked me about it earlier – but I think after we spoke a little, I figured she wasn’t offended. She told me some innocuous fact about herself. It was because I commented on how little we know one another and I feel like that’s opened the door for us to explore each other as people.
Zara starts to stir and she lifts her head up, rubbing her eyes as she gets reaccustomed to the setting. I can tell she’s a little confused, so I say, “Good morning.” She blinks a few times, yawns, and then says,
“Good morning, Sam.” I sit up and she follows suit. She looks around my room and then over at me. “What time is it?”
I look at the clock on my nightstand. “It’s only ten.” I’m usually out of bed by now, but having a lazy Sunday is kind of nice – especially because I’m having it with her. We stay in bed for about a half hour, just talking. She goes back to how I can speak French.
“So, can you say other fancy French things?” I laugh at how fixated she is on this. I never thought of it as something particularly interesting.
“I can. I can also say fancy Spanish things.” That causes her eyes to light up and I have to come up with random phrases to say in both languages. We spend a lot more time on this than I thought possible, but I’m not annoyed, just amused. Her fingers keep touching my face, rubbing her fingers on my mouth. She’s kind of an odd duck, but it’s a part of the charm.
“You’re quite amazing, Sam.” I’m not used to people complimenting the way Zara does. She really looks at what I can do and responds thoughtfully. That’s one of the reasons why I love baking with her. She’s just such a thoughtful person. I should work harder to understand her more, then maybe I can show her I’m interested in her past just baking lessons and sex. This is a little weird for me. I’ve never put in a significant amount of work to get a woman to like me. Usually they either do or they don’t – more often than not, they do – and I sleep with them until they want something more out of the relationship. Maybe I am a bit of a cad and my Mom was right. I shouldn’t be so dismissive of the women in my life. I should be considerate and think about their needs, what they want. I can start right here with the girl in my bed. “Are we baking today?”
Two Bad Bosses_An MFM Menage Romance Page 23