Radical Encounters

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Radical Encounters Page 11

by Radclyffe


  “Does that mean no date?” she probed.

  I nodded.

  She gave me a quick little smile and dropped her spoon into the sink. Then she leaned over, opened the cabinet beneath it, and discarded her yogurt container. When she straightened up, my eyes were still leveled at the place where her breasts had been seconds before, riveted on the nipples just peeking out over the scalloped lace edges. I tore my eyes up her body to her face, and she grinned.

  “Me neither,” Sheri said. “Wanna have dinner with me?”

  “Sure. You want to try that sushi place we read about in the Weekender?”

  Her smile got kind of funny, as if I’d missed something.

  “No, I thought we’d eat here. You buy some wine, and I’ll make dinner.”

  “Like cook?”

  She walked past me and ran her fingers through my hair. “Yes, dummy. Like cook.”

  *

  Be Mine. Forever Yours. Your Forever Love.

  I stared at the cards. It was impossible. She’d think I was crazy. I turned around and walked out of the drugstore empty-handed.

  I did better with the wine. Sheri pronounced it, “Yum. Good.”

  “That looks good too.”

  I stood behind her as she stirred colorful things that didn’t really look like food together in a big pan on top of the stove, her wineglass on the counter beside her. She’d pulled her thick blond hair up off her neck and held it in place with a tortoiseshell comb. A few wisps had escaped, and they trailed down over her throat. The steam, spicy and rich, rose from whatever it was she was cooking and mingled with something sweeter, something her. I leaned in closer to breathe her scent, and my crotch brushed over her ass. The touch charged through me, setting every nerve ending ablaze. For a second I was so stunned, I didn’t move. Then, before I could jump away, she gave a little roll of her hips and pushed back into me. That’s when I knew I’d lost my mind. Because she couldn’t be doing that. Could she?

  “Davy?”

  “Huh?”

  “Reach up to that cabinet right over my head and get me the cumin, will you?”

  “Sure.”

  To accomplish the task, I had to lean against her and stretch over her shoulder. I had a choice of steadying myself on the burner or her waist, which was bare for a good eight inches between the bottom of her tight black cropped T-shirt and the top of her hip-huggers. I hesitated for a few seconds, figuring the end result would be pretty much the same. Whether I stuck my hand in the fire or rested my palm against her skin, I was going to go up in flames.

  “Something wrong?”

  I swear she did that thing with her hips again, and I had to lock my knees to stay standing. What the hell, if I was going to burn, it might as well be worth it. I curved my hand around her waist and reached up over her head. “Not a thing.”

  I was right. Her skin was hot. Hot and smooth and so fucking soft. The tips of my nipples ached as my chest brushed over her back. My crotch was so tight up against her now that my fly nestled in the little cleft between her cheeks. My clit was so hard it felt like it was going to come bursting right out through the faded denim.

  “Don’t move,” Sheri said in a tight little whisper as she did something in front of her to make the steam disappear. Then she leaned back against me, turned her head, and licked my neck.

  I forgot about the cumin and wrapped both arms around her waist. If I turned my palms up I’d be holding her breasts, and there wouldn’t be any way I could pretend that was an accident. I was shaking all over; I couldn’t move a muscle.

  She pivoted in my arms and slid hers around my neck. Her face was very close, and she had that little smile again, the one that said I was still missing the punchline.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “How long have we been roommates?” She kissed the tip of my chin.

  “Ten months.”

  I edged my hand under the back of her shirt and stroked my fingers up and down her spine. She threaded her fingers into my hair and rubbed against the front of my body like a cat.

  “You haven’t been around much on the weekends the last couple months,” she commented. She kissed the corner of my mouth, then very daintily bit the center of my lower lip.

  I was still reeling from the heat of her mouth when she yanked my T-shirt from my jeans and pushed it out of the way so she could slide her bare belly over mine. She did that a few times while she kissed me for real, her tongue slicking in and out of my mouth like steam running down the windowpane, hot on cold, and wet. My thighs started shaking the way they do when I have to come really bad, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold us both up much longer. I walked her a couple steps to the right until her butt bumped up against the counter. I grabbed onto it, bracing my arms on either side of her hips.

  “What are you doing, Sheri, huh?” I muttered while I grazed my teeth down her neck.

  She arched her back and gave me her throat, and while I sucked, she gasped, “When’s the last time…you saw me go…out on a date?”

  “Don’t know.”

  I bunched her tee in my fist and dragged it up to get at her breasts, licking at her nipples while I shifted just enough to get her thigh between my legs. She grabbed my ass and squeezed while she pushed her breast into my mouth. My teeth were going to leave marks.

  “That’s because…it’s been months, you dummy.”

  She took one hand off my butt and scrabbled around on the kitchen counter while I lost myself in the wild race of her heart and the piercing pleasure of her leg squeezing my clit while I rode her. She pulled my head up with a hand in my hair and waved a little white square in front of my face.

  “Here,” she said breathlessly, her eyes huge, her lips swollen and the color of Valentines. “This is for you.”

  She started opening my fly while I struggled with the little envelope. My hands were shaking so badly it took forever, but I finally fished out the simple red heart with the white letters that said, Be My Valentine. Underneath the words, she’d written I Love You, Sheri.

  So easy, after all. I said yes, and then I kissed her and kept kissing her while I undressed her. She tried to do the same with me, but I brushed her hands away. I had not yet given her her Valentine. I knelt between her legs and followed with my mouth the secret path I had painted on her body so many times in my mind, tracing my tongue over her softness, her sweetness, her sharp tangy places, until she started making little whimpering noises, and I knew it was time to tell her all the things I’d been wanting to say to her for forever. I pressed my fingers to her thighs, teasing her clitoris with my tongue until she got impossibly hard and her fingers clenched fitfully in my hair.

  “You’re making me come,” she whispered, a note of awe in her voice.

  Be Mine.

  “Oh. You are. You’re making me come right now.”

  I love you.

  “Please there. I’m coming. There, there, oh there…”

  Forever Yours.

  “There,” she sobbed. “Oh now… now… now…”

  I closed my eyes and sucked her gently until I felt her swell and burst inside my mouth.

  Your Forever Love.

  All About Us

  Although I had a trailer all my own, with words I was secretly very proud of printed on the side—Rafe Bevalaqua, General Contractor—I still liked to eat lunch with the crew. Even on a sweltering July day in the middle of a half-finished subdivision where there wasn’t a single tree to offer shade. Even when I had a little air conditioner in my unit where I could have taken a break in comfort. I liked eating with the guys, and that included the girls, because even though I was the boss, I needed them as much as they needed me. Besides, it wasn’t all that long ago that when I was one of them, a union carpenter with big dreams. Now I had my own company, which was a good thing, because I also had a wife and two kids.

  Being a parent and the major breadwinner changes how you look at everything. Most of my day—hell, most of my life—was spen
t working so I could be sure they had what they needed. Not that Donna didn’t work just as hard with a two- and a four-year-old at home and a part-time job proofreading for a lesbian publishing company. But where my biggest worry used to be what restaurant I’d take Donna to for a romantic evening, now I worried about college funds and health insurance. That’s the other thing that had changed. Since the kids, there wasn’t a whole lot of time for us.

  We were both dog-tired at the end of the day, and we didn’t have the money or energy to do a lot of things we used to do when we first got together. We didn’t go out clubbing or even out to dinner much anymore. Once in a while we caught a movie when my sister or Donna’s mother could babysit, but we didn’t party with our friends until all hours and we didn’t stay up until dawn fucking like we used to. We were lucky if we could steal a couple of minutes on Sunday afternoon for few quick kisses and a fast come with a vibrator.

  I missed coming home at the end of the day and finding Donna stretched out on a lounge chair in the backyard with a drink in her hand and a smile that said I’ve been waiting all afternoon for you to take care of me, and I’d go down on my knees right there and pull her skimpy panties aside and she’d already be wet and I’d lick her until she came with her fingers twisted in my hair and her pussy riding my face. I missed waking up on Saturday morning to her jerking me off nice and slow and easy while I just lay there, letting her do me like only she knows how. I missed strapping on a big dick and sliding inside her with long deep strokes, watching her face turn all dreamy and her eyes fill with tears because it felt so good and she was going to come so hard for me.

  I loved my wife and I loved my kids. I loved my life. But sometimes I missed us like we used to be.

  “Hey, Rafe,” Joe the electrician called. “You gonna eat what’s in that lunchbox? Cause if you’re just gonna stand there with it, I’m good for seconds.”

  I stared at the black aluminum lunch pail in my right hand and realized I’d been standing outside my trailer daydreaming and blowing a good part of my lunch hour. Plus, I’d worked myself up pretty good just thinking about sex with Donna. My clit ached and my boxers were wet. “Yeah yeah. Forget it, you mooch.”

  I pulled myself up onto a half-finished concrete wall next to Joe and a couple of other guys, ignoring the way my clit jumped as it was squashed against the seam of my khaki work pants. I flipped the top on the big box and pulled out my thermos, listening to the guys complain about the weather and the Yankees and the high cost of gas. When I reached in for my sandwich my fingers closed round something that definitely didn’t feel like lunch, and I yanked my hand out so fast I almost dropped everything onto the hardpacked dirt at my feet. Fortunately, none of the guys noticed my reaction. Turning so no one could see what was inside, I opened my lunch pail again. The first thing I saw was the note in Donna’s handwriting.

  Rafaela. I’ll be there at one. And I’ll be hungry.

  Underneath the note, neatly arranged next to the sandwich that Donna fixed for me every morning, rested my harness and a fat cock.

  “What time is it?” I croaked.

  “Five to one,” Joe said. “Why? You got a plane to catch?”

  I slammed the lid and jumped down. “I forgot. I got a…phone conference. I’ll be busy for a while.”

  Then I ran for the trailer.

  Once inside, I twisted the knob on the window air conditioner to high and hopped around the room on one leg and then the other trying to get my boots off. I finally took a breath, sat down on the small sofa pushed against one wall, unlaced my boots, and shucked my pants and underwear, all the time keeping one eye on my watch. Two minutes to go. I got myself geared up, redressed, and zipped just as a knock sounded on the metal door. The sound went straight to my clit, which was already pounding against the underside of my dick.

  I opened the door and grinned at my wife. She was wearing very skimpy baby-blue shorts that matched her eyes and a halter top that tied behind her neck. Her blond hair was loose and just touched her tanned shoulders.

  “Hey, baby,” I said, feeling as nervous as a first date.

  Donna stared at my crotch for a beat or two and then climbed the metal steps and brushed past me, bumping her pelvis to the bulge between my legs as she went by. “Hi, honey.”

  Knees shaking, I closed and locked the door. I leaned against it to re-gather my cool. “So where are the kids?”

  “At my mother’s.” Donna dropped a shopping bag next to my desk and looked out the little window that didn’t have an air conditioner in it. “Good. No one can see in.”

  “I got your note.” My hands were sweating I wanted to touch her so bad, but this was her show. She knew what she wanted and whatever it was, I was going to give it to her.

  “I noticed.” She slid her hand between my legs and cupped the cock in my pants, jacking it slowly while she kissed me. Her tongue filled my mouth, thrusting slowly in and out to the rhythm of her hand working me. I untied her skimpy top, let it fall, and stroked the soft surface of her breasts with my fingertips. When I skimmed her nipples, already puckered and hard, she moaned and jacked me faster.

  “You don’t want to do that so hard, baby,” I warned breathlessly. “Not unless you want me to come in my pants right now.”

  She eased up on me a little and ran her tongue around the rim of my ear. Her breath was hot and her voice husky. “Play with my nipples. That makes me so wet.”

  I knew exactly what it did to her. I could make her come if I tugged and twisted them hard enough and fast enough and long enough, but I knew that’s not what she wanted. So I took her up to the edge a couple of times while she whimpered and clutched my shoulders and rubbed her pussy over the lump in my khakis. I backed off just before she was ready to shoot over the top and palmed her ass so I could buck my hips and bang her clit with the dick in my pants. She sagged against me.

  “How you doing?” I asked, watching her struggle to focus on my face.

  “I want to come,” she whispered.

  “Is your clit all swollen, baby?”

  She sucked on my neck and rubbed herself all over the front of me. “You know it is.”

  “Do you want to come on my cock? Is that what you’re doing here?” I walked her toward the little couch, my cock jammed into her pussy, while she nodded and made incoherent sounds. Then I sat down, spread my arms along the back of the couch, and opened my legs so the cock formed a tent in my khakis. “Show me.”

  Instantly, she was on her knees, fumbling with my fly. I bit back a groan when she pushed her hand inside my pants. She was so anxious to get at my rod she almost got me off from the pressure on my clit when she twisted the cock around to set it free.

  “Jesus, take it easy, baby,” I gasped. Any chance I had at being cool was gone.

  She laughed and went down on my cock. She’s a genius at timing the pumping action of her fist with the slow glide of her mouth down the shaft, so I can watch her suck me off and feel it in my clit just like it was a cock. The first time she did it to me I was going seventy on the interstate and she pulled my dick out and leaned over and blew me in about two minutes. I wasn’t going to last two minutes now. I cupped the back of her head to slow her down.

  “Not so fast. I want to come inside you.”

  “Do you? Sure about that?” She smiled up at me while she kept jacking and licking the head of my cock. Her eyes said she knew just how bad I wanted to come in her face. She kept at it until my legs went stiff and my belly got hard and I was one stroke away from going off. And then she stopped.

  I groaned but I kept my hands clenched on the back of the couch, staring in a daze as she stood and slid her hand into her shorts. Her fingers twitched between her legs.

  “I’m so wet.”

  She pushed her hand deeper.

  “Mmm. Feels so good.”

  Her fingers danced faster and she threw her head back, eyes closed. I knew what she looked like when she came and she was almost there. I leaned forward and yanked he
r shorts down. Then I swatted her hand away.

  “Get down here and fuck yourself on my cock.”

  She kicked off her shorts, straddled me on the couch, and sank onto my cock in one movement. Her head snapped back and she gave a high thin cry. She pushed up, almost all the way off, and sank down again to the hilt. She rode it that way, slow and deep, while I pulled on her nipples. I could see her clit each time she slid up the shaft. It was deep red, glistening, standing up between her parted lips.

  “Feel good, baby?”

  “The best,” she gasped.

  “Gonna come all over me soon?”

  She nodded wordlessly, her body trembling. I knew what she needed, but I waited for her to ask. She managed another couple of strokes before she wrapped her fingers tight around my forearms and gasped, “Rub my clit.”

  I knew just how she liked it too. Back when we had all the time in the world, I used to watch her masturbate so I’d know just where to tease her clit to make her come. Now I pressed my thumb into the base of her clit until the head was bare and standing up, then I circled it with my fingers, dipping low to carry her cream up and over the top. She got super hard almost at once and I knew nothing was going to stop her now. Her nails dug into my arms and her hips flailed away at the cock while she half whispered, half cried, I’m coming I’m coming I’m coming coming coming…

  I caught her when she fell into my arms, her legs still splayed on either side of my thighs, my cock still deep inside her. She always comes more than once this way, and while she circled her pelvis working up to another come, I could finally let go. I was almost sick, I needed to get off so bad. I slid the fingers I’d used to work her clit lower between our bodies, beneath the leather harness and onto the hot stone that was lodged between my thighs. I got the slippery shaft between my fingers and squeezed.

 

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