So Wrong

by Camilla Stevens

  “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you undress me?” she said, smiling over at him.

  “And here I’ve been wasting every minute around you just fantasizing about taking your clothes off when I could have been actually doing the deed.”

  She laughed and pulled her foot out of the hole, making sure to give him a love tap on his chest with her foot before sticking her other leg out. Once that leg was free she stood up.

  “I like undressing you too,” she said, heading over to grab hold of his fly. “I especially like what’s underneath.”

  After unbuttoning and unzipping him, River felt her hands go around his waist and sneak underneath the loosened waistband of his jeans and then beneath his underwear. She grabbed his ass cheeks and squeezed.

  “Oh, I really am a bad influence. Where is that tame little pastor’s daughter from the bookstore?” he grinned, reaching his own hands underneath her panties and giving her cheeks a squeeze as well.

  “That train has long since left the Garden of Eden, after meeting a big…bad..snake.” She gave him a sexy grin at her own witticism, but all River could do was laugh.

  “What?” she pouted, pulling her hands away.

  Before she could completely distance herself from him, he pulled her back. “It was cute,” he admitted.

  “I wasn’t going for cute,” she said dryly.

  “Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence anyway. There are a lot of references you could have made that weren’t as…complimentary. Would it help to say that you’ve woken the big…bad…snake?”

  He pushed the rapidly expanding bulge in his boxers into her abdomen. Then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “And I’ve been dying for a taste of some forbidden fruit since last night.”

  With that he fell to his knees, bringing her panties down with him. Bonita fell back against the window sill and stepped out of them. River pushed her legs apart roughly causing her to fall back even harder against the window.

  Her taste and smell overwhelmed his senses. This was Bonita at her purest, and he couldn’t get enough.

  His lips found the swollen head of her clitoris and eagerly surrounded it, urging it out of its hiding spot as if he was sucking the pimento out of an olive.

  Bonita gasped as his tongue went to work flicking it and teasing it. He felt her hand fall to his head to brace herself and coax him on. He brought two fingers up to feel the familiar warm wetness inside of her. The feeling always gave him an anticipatory thrill. Even though the curved stroke of his fingers was for her pleasure, as evidenced by the guttural moan that escaped her lips, he was just as stimulated knowing that soon it would be his cock that was embraced by her inner warmth.

  “Oh River, River, River,” she moaned as her hand began to massage his head.

  Her voice only made him hungrier for more and his tongue moved at double speed. When the tugs on his hair became frighteningly in danger of leaving him bald, he knew he had accomplished his goal. Both of them were sated.

  When he pulled away, he looked up and he could see the growing lust in Bonita’s eyes as she looked down at him.

  “My turn,” she said with a smirk, then fell to her knees. River stood up to accommodate her as she tugged at his jeans and underwear, pulling them the rest of the way down his legs. He stepped out of them and when he was completely naked, she reached out to grab his cock which stood at full attention now.

  Her eyes rolled up to look at his over her glasses as she stroked him, licking her lips in a way that would have caused him to come right then and there if he hadn’t learned self-control.

  It was almost like lightning striking when her tongue first met the swollen head of his cock. Then he felt the warmth of her mouth as she covered it completely, slowly working her way down. It had only been a few weeks, but with his guidance she’d learned how to completely pleasure him. Her lips followed her hand as it slid down his shaft in a firm grip. She gave that moaning sound that he loved as he felt her tongue sliver along his veins and ridge.

  “Jesus, Bonita,” he sighed, his own hand gently going to work in the tangles of her curls as he braced himself. She worked her way up and down, gradually increasing her momentum. Once again he was amazed at how much of him she was capable of taking. It seemed so wrong for someone once so pure to now be so…thorough.

  He could feel himself reaching the brink and knew this wasn’t how he wanted it. He wanted to cement this day, the day he revealed everything about himself to Bonita, by being inside her.

  “Bonita,” he breathed, running his hand through her hair and tugging lightly. “Not like this.”

  She groaned reluctantly as her mouth came off his cock, and looked up at him over those glasses again, biting her lip in a way that almost made him explode.

  “Get up,” he commanded.

  She stood up and looked at him expectantly. River tugged his flannel shirt off her shoulders and down her arms. Then he went to work on her t-shirt underneath. She followed his lead, reaching behind to unhook her bra.

  While she finished taking off her bra, he reached down into his jeans on the floor to retrieve the condom that he’d made damn sure to grab before leaving his apartment. He took only a moment to let his eyes have their bit of enjoyment, lingering over her body, while he rolled the condom down his penis. Then he came forward, pressing his body into hers back toward the window.

  “Ack!” she yelped, flinching as the chilly glass of the window met her back. The way her body arched away from it, her breasts jutting forward, her stomach lengthening, nearly drove him crazy.

  He quickly grabbed the flannel shirt and draped it around her shoulders. He saw her eyes dart to the bed with the obvious solution.

  “We could…?”

  “No,” he growled. “I want you up against the window.”

  He came closer to her, reaching around to grab her ass. “This is the view I had when I accomplished the second most important thing in my life.”

  He leaned in to whisper to her. “Being with you is the first, Bonita.”

  She looked into his eyes and read the truth in them. She quickly pulled the flannel shirt on and the next second her arms were around him.

  “River, you too. You mean everything to me,” she said, pressing her lips to his.

  “I love—” She kissed him.

  “you so—” Another kiss.

  “much.” Kiss. “You don’t even know.”

  River did, because he felt the same. Instead of using words, he used his body, pushing the sides of the flannel shirt aside so he could be skin to skin with her. He lifted her up and pressed his hard chest against her soft breasts. Now that she had the protective flannel shirt on he pressed her back against the picture window. The flesh of her soft ass sandwiched his hands against the glass as he gripped hard. With her legs up against the sides of his hips, Bonita stared into his eyes as she guided the huge shaft that had just been in her mouth toward her other, more intimate opening.

  “Unnh,” she moaned, closing her eyes and throwing her head back as he penetrated her completely and fully with one swift thrust.

  The usual rush of proprietary elation ran through River as her wet heat enveloped him. Even after numerous times together she still fit him like a heated glove, as she should. She belonged to him, he belonged to her. They were perfect together, from the way their minds connected on a cerebral level, to the way their bodies melded together on a purely physical level.

  Even now, Bonita rocked her body in time to his, squeezing tightly on the withdrawal, and then quivering in pleasure as the head of his dick stroked along her insides when he thrust himself right back in.

  “Oh God, Bonita, I love you too,” he said, his words mimicking what his body had already shown her a million different ways by now.

  His hands were nearly going numb from pressure of the ebb and flow of her hips. River didn’t care; the longer he was inside her the better. If he could stay like this forever, his body locked in sync with hers, he could di
e happy.

  Then he felt the slight uptick in movement accompanied by her growing moans, letting him know that she was on the brink.

  “Oh River, River, River, River….” Her eyes fluttered open to stare at his as her insides clenched tight. The pulses that flowed through her sent vibrations straight into his dick and up through his own body.

  That’s when his wave began to grow, a tightening of his balls as they prepared themselves to produce his climax. River’s fingers dug into her body as he impaled her on his shaft one last time then let the wave crash, his body erupting with pleasure.

  As he recovered, Bonita brought her arms up around him, pressing her body against his. Her head rested against his shoulder and he brought one hand up to caress her back as the other held her up.

  Although he was quickly beginning to go flaccid he stayed inside of her as he carried her over to the bed. She slid down on to the mattress, releasing him. River collected the notebooks and carried them back over to the kitchen table. While there he removed the condom and grabbed one of the napkins from the food they hadn’t even eaten to wipe himself off. When he was done he went back to join her as she slipped under the covers.

  Once again her body was pressed firmly against his, her head resting on his shoulder as her hand traced a path across his chest, and his traced lines along her arm.

  Then they fell contentedly asleep.

  The food was cold, but they were hungry and wide awake. The late morning had transitioned to mid afternoon and they were still in bed, eating soggy hamburgers and stale fries.

  “So Daddy doesn’t approve of the writing career. Are you worried?”

  River shrugged as he took a bite, forcing himself to swallow.

  “Not really. There’ll be the usual ranting and raving. My brothers had to go through it when they also decided to pass on running the Wright empire. The good news is, my mom will probably love it. When she finally manages to hear about it.”

  “How was it? Growing up like…”

  “Like the second love child of my father’s second mistress?”

  Bonita averted her eyes and busied herself with a cold fry.

  River just laughed. “Don’t worry, Bonita. Anything you say will probably be something I’ve heard before.”

  He put his burger down and looked thoughtfully toward the window. “Like my brothers I rebelled in my own way. I suppose all that make-up and black clothing was my way of hiding. Dad’s such a publicity hound that it was my natural inclination to do the exact opposite.

  “My mother? She decided the divorce was a chance to start over. In the beginning she dragged me along to one spiritual retreat after another. It took a year to realize that maybe some sort of geographical stability would be better for my well-being. It says a lot when Richard Wright turns out to be the more appropriate parental unit.

  “I have no idea what she was running away from or toward. It would have been nice to be closer, but…” he shrugged.

  Bonita reached out and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

  “I don’t regret it thought. Everything about my past has made me who I am today. The books, the music, even this body you can’t keep your hands off,” he said giving her a smirk.

  Bonita released her hand and threw a french fry at him, making him laugh.

  “What about you? What do you want?”

  “Want? There’s a nice dream,” she said wryly before catching herself. “I mean—”

  “No, I get it. Not everyone is a trust fund baby. But everyone’s life, even for us fundies, has a catch.”

  Bonita gave a small laugh and looked down at her fries. “That’s the truth.”

  River watched her, wondering what all these ambiguous statements were about.

  Her eyes rolled up to him, as though reading his mind and her expression cleared. “What do I want? I’d love to study books all day. Literature. The classics. Jane Austen. Alexandre Dumas. Mark Twain.”

  “So do it.”

  This time the laugh she gave him was more pronounced. “You really are a trust fund baby.”

  “I don’t mean to sound trite, Bonita. I really don’t. But have you even thought about ways that you can do what you love?”

  “Only someone who has never experienced what it’s like being broke would say that. The fear of losing everything. The way it tears a family apar—”

  She stopped suddenly, now looking away from him with a frown.

  River was about to say something before she shook her head and looked up at him again with a wry smile. “Medicine. I’m going to medical school. It’s safe.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “It’s what I need, River. Safety.”

  He wanted to tell her that she never had to worry about that with him. It wasn’t even the money. Even if he lost it all today, he knew for a fact they’d be fine. The urge in him to do everything he could to make her happy and secure was so powerful he couldn’t imaging a force strong enough to defeat it.

  But it was easy enough to say. There was something of a fighter in Bonita, defiant and independent. It was part of the mysterious allure that drew him in when he first saw her. The last thing in the world she would want would be for him to “rescue” her.

  For now, he’d have to settle for knowing he was her support system, emotionally, physically and yes, financially if need be. Being safe would be the last thing Bonita had to worry about so long as he was here.

  30

  “You didn’t have to pick me up at the station. I could have just taken the train,” Bonita informed her parents from the backseat of her father’s car.

  “We just couldn’t wait to see you, pumpkin,” her father said, winking at her in the rear view window.

  Bonita just smiled back at him, shaking her head with amusement. Then she stared out the window, wondering when to break the news to them. She didn’t want to spring River Wright, son of the notorious Richard Wright, on them out of the blue.

  “Besides, we’re on our way to pick up something for Grandma Jackson’s dinner tomorrow and thought you’d want to help.”

  “Do we know what she’s doing for the talent show tomorrow?” Bonita asked, getting excited.

  Annabelle Jackson lived in an “active seniors” community where she seemed to have way too much fun. It was a far cry from the depressingly last-stop-before-death facility that Bonita originally conjured up when she’d heard her grandma was selling the house after grandpa died where she’d spent so many sleepovers. Instead, it seemed to be more like a Melrose Place for retired people, and Annabelle was never one to be stingy with the yearly gossip when Maurice, Juanita, and Bonita came to visit as they did every Thanksgiving.

  “Well, it couldn’t possibly be worse than last year,” her father sighed.

  Bonita laughed. “It wasn’t so bad! They were actually pretty good.”

  “It’s not the act I’m complaining about.”

  The community had a pot-luck dinner and a talent show put on by the seniors for family who came to visit. Last year, Grandma Jackson had played the assistant to a Mr. Sorrentino, complete with a scandalously sparkly, little outfit. The way the two of them had traded bawdy double entendres on stage had not only caused her parents to wriggle uncomfortably, but indicated something more than a magician-assistant relationship was going on.

  “Oh, you two like to play like you’re so progressive. Really you’re both a bunch of prudes.”

  “There are appearances to think about Bonita,” her mother chided.

  “No one is going to stop attending your church because grandma wore a sequined leotard and made a joke about an extra large saw cutting her in half.”

  Bonita felt a tiny bit guilty as she heard her father half-groan, half-sigh and her mother cough uncomfortably. Then she laughed, reaching out to slap him lightly on the shoulder in front of her.

  “She’s just enjoying life. You two should be happy for her.”

  As she settled back into her seat, she wondere
d how they’d take the news of her and River being a couple. If her father was this worried about the harmless bit of fun his mother got up to in a retirement home, he’d probably have an aneurysm when he found out his daughter was dating the son of Richard Wright.

  This year it was a rather daring Tango.

  At seventy years old Annabelle Jackson was just as limber as Bonita. Mr. Sorrentino, with his smoothly slicked back hair and pencil mustache he must have grown out just for the occasion, was no less agile on his feet.

  Although she could sense a few uncomfortable shifts in her father’s seat each time her grandmother wrapped a leg around Mr. Sorrentino’s thigh, at least she was fully dressed this time. She was perhaps showing a bit too much cleavage and leg, but dressed all the same. She even had a sexy little señorita rose in her hair to complete the bold dress she wore.

  All in all it was a good show and Bonita herself led the standing ovation.

  “How long did you have to practice to do so well, grandma?” Bonita asked when they were later seated to eat.

  “Oh, sweetheart I don’t even know. But the practice was the fun part,” she raised her eyebrows at Mr. Sorrentino sitting next to her, making Bonita smile. Her father was less amused.

  “Has your family not come to visit, Mr. Sorrentino?” he asked, almost innocently. Bonita’s grandmother shot him a look.

  “Oh they are up in Chicago. I go up at Christmas to see everyone. That’s fine, it gives me a chance to know Anna’s family.” He smiled down at her and they stayed looking at each other just long enough for everyone else at this part of the table to understand exactly what was going on.

  “Alright, are you going to spill it? What exactly is going on between you two?” Her father asked grumpily.

  “Since you asked, son, Carlo and I are….well, we are a couple. In fact I’m going to visit his family in Chicago this Christmas.”