We would spend some more time discussing children in the future; if I was certain that she didn’t want children, being in and maintaining a relationship with her just may be something that I could do. The thought of being in a relationship with her was comforting. Traveling, vacations, going to different countries, different states, and sharing all of that with someone that I enjoyed spending time with – the thought of doing that with a woman was appealing.
I had decided when I was young – maybe as young as sixteen, that I did not want children. That feeling never faded. I felt, being an only child and being the son of parents that were only children, that bringing a child into this earth would be wrong. If I were to die, and at some point in time I certainly would, that would leave a child in this world no different than me – without any form of elder to lean on. No family. Alone.
Having Kelli on the back of the motorcycle was another comfort that I would not have guessed I would enjoy. In the past, the thought of having a woman on the back of my motorcycle was repulsive. Having a woman on my motorcycle was something that I looked at as being intimate. I differed from a lot of men in that respect. Most men that I rode with would give any woman that asked a ride on their motorcycle. I purposely rode a motorcycle without a permanent back seat. Unless I added the seat on the motorcycle before I left the house, there was not an option for a person to ride on it.
Not having the seat saved people’s feelings and saved me a lot of grief. I could count on one hand the amount of women that had ridden on the back of my motorcycle in my lifetime. It would require a tremendous amount of time, calculator, pen and paper to count the amount of women that could have ridden on it.
Kelli riding behind me felt natural. She was petite and did not weigh very much, so she wasn’t even noticeable when maneuvering the motorcycle. Her arms wrapped around my waist provided a reassurance that she was there. Not just on the motorcycle but as a part of or an extension of me.
Riding a motorcycle had become a part of me at an early age. It was not something that I did because I enjoyed doing so; it was a part of who I was. For me, it was a type of therapy. I could have the worst possible day, take a thirty minute motorcycle ride and rid myself of all of the thoughts associated with the day. Being on a motorcycle separated me from all of the realities of life; money, bills, requirements, people, rules, and regulations did not exist when I rode. To describe the feeling of riding, to me, would be the same as a bird describing flight. A mode of transportation and a certain feeling of freedom combined.
The small airport where we had eaten lunch was in a rural area between two cities. A series of paved county roads and a highway tied the airport to the major city. I had opted to use the county two-lane roads as our route to the airport. On the way to the airport, I had seen a large home for sale directly off of the paved road. There were several fenced acres of grass, a long driveway, and what appeared to be a very nice two story home marked by a realtor’s sign. As soon as I noticed the sign in the distance, I began to slow the motorcycle down.
I decelerated until we reached the driveway to the home and turned into the drive. As we slowly rode up the driveway toward the house, Kelli spoke into my right ear. The exhaust noise of the motorcycle typically made conversations impossible while riding, but at this slow speed, there was virtually no wind and no noise from the exhaust.
“What are we doing? Do you know this guy?” she asked.
“No, we’re just looking,” I responded.
She sat back in the seat and relaxed. As I approached the home I revved the throttle to create as much of a disturbance as possible. The driveway circled around the front of the home and tied back into the entrance. I pulled directly in front of the front porch of the home and killed the engine on the bike. I placed the kickstand down and secured the bike on the asphalt driveway.
“Go ahead and get off, Kelli. Be careful of the exhaust,” I said, pointing to the exhaust pipe beside Kelli’s leg.
“Okay,” she said as she got off the motorcycle.
Standing beside the motorcycle, she admired the home.
“This place is huge. What are we doing?”
“I saw that it was for sale, so I was just pulling in here to take a look,” I responded as I got off of the motorcycle.
I began walking to the front door of the home, and Kelli followed. Standing on the porch and looking into the window of the home, it looked vacant. All of the lights were off, and there were a few local newspapers on the porch. I knocked on the door and rang the doorbell.
“So, do you want to buy this place?” Kelli asked as we stood on the porch.
“Not necessarily. I was just seeing if anyone was home,” I responded as I lifted the welcome mat and looked under it for a key.
“What are you looking for?” Kelli asked as I peeked under the mat.
“A key,” I responded.
“Oh my God, why?” she asked, with both her eyebrows raised in wonder.
“Because I am going to take you inside and fuck you senseless, and if I can’t find a key I will have to break a window. To tell you the truth, I would rather not break a window, so I am looking for a key,” I responded as I ran my hand along the structure of the awning of the porch.
“Holy crap, are you serious?”
“Totally,” I said, still feeling for a key along the wooden structure.
“And you don’t know these people? This isn’t a joke? You are just going to take me inside and fuck me? In some random house?” Kelli asked as she looked through the window into what appeared to be the living room.
“That is correct. I have no idea who lives here. All of the grass appeared to be recently cut, but there weren’t any garage doors open when we rode by earlier. It’s Saturday, and most people with this much grass to cut would be up cutting it this morning. The fact that it’s already cut means that someone did it in the last few days. More than likely they’ve hired someone to take care of it, and they’ve already moved elsewhere. The newspapers you’re stepping on mean they haven’t been on this porch for at least a few days. Now, it is Saturday, so the realtor could arrive any minute with a client…here we go,” I said as I felt a key along the structure.
I pulled the key down and looked at it. Schlage was imprinted on the key. Clearly this was a key to the front door. I walked to the door, inserted the key, and turned the handle. The door opened. I placed the key in my pocket and walked inside the door.
“Get in here, Kelli. We’re going to have to make this quick, we might not have much time.”
Chapter 15
KELLI. I have always thought of myself as a fairly adventurous sexual person. I have done some things, sexually, that I was well aware most other girls would never do. I have also been highly aroused by situations and circumstances that would more than likely make a lot of girls feel uneasy or uncomfortable. In the past, I have wondered if there is something wrong with me because of what excited me, sexually. I have never talked to anyone about it, but I knew that there was something wrong with me mentally. Normal people were not aroused by the strange sex and the strange sexual circumstances that I was.
The things that Erik and I have done have never scared me for one minute. I never thought, ‘Should I do this, or should I say no?’ To me, it was just sex. Something fun. I never thought for one minute that it was something that I should consider not doing. I would say that the sexual escapades between Erik and I have been mild compared to what I would consider doing. When we left the mall, I wondered what he might offer, sexually, that would make me question if I had the ability to go against my best judgment.
Going into this house wasn’t that one thing, but it certainly was close. Walking into the house, I could tell that I was already wet. My groin tingled and itched for Erik. I had left my panties in my purse when I changed into my jeans, and my jeans were pressed into my crotch for the entire motorcycle ride. Wondering what he had in mind, I looked around. Surprisingly, the house was clean and didn’t smell bad.
“This place is huge,” I said, looking up the stairs that led out of the kitchen.
“Come here, Kelli,” Erik said, standing in the kitchen. I hesitated, still admiring the house.
“We haven’t got a lot of time, get in here,” he said in a more demanding tone.
The hallway that I was standing in was a hardwood floor, as was the kitchen. The rooms on the other side of the hallway were carpeted. My sneakers squeaked as I walked on the hardwood floor. I looked into the kitchen where Erik stood and watched him remove his shirt.
This was the first time I had seen Erik with his shirt off. When he removed it over his head, his stomach muscles flexed. His stomach was flat, but rippled with muscles. He had an eight-pack, not a six-pack. His entire stomach was covered in a snake tattoo that went up to his chest. Both sides of his chest were covered in the same tattoo. From his belt line, the tattoo started, and went back and forth across his stomach until it ended at his chest, right below the collar of where a tee shirt would cover it. As he lowered his arms, and tossed his shirt on the kitchen counter, the size of his chest was obvious. In a tee shirt, it was clear that he was in shape. With his tee shirt off, it was very clear that he was in better shape than in shape. A small waist, wide chest, large upper arms, and very broad shoulders. The muscles on his chest twitched as he stood looking at me.
“What the fuck are you doing, baby?” he asked, chuckling as he asked.
“Uhhm, I was admiring you. I love you without a shirt on. Let’s leave it off. Forever and ever. You’re not allowed to wear a shirt, ever again,” I said as I began walking to where he had tossed his shirt.
As soon as I was walking past him, he reached out, grabbed me, and picked me up by my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around my back, holding my feet off of the floor. His forearms were wrapped around my back, and his biceps were on each side of my chest. As he held me, his bicep muscles flexed. His body drove me crazy.
Something about being in this house, having him standing there in his jeans and boots without a shirt was more than I could handle. I felt like putty in his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked my toes together. One of his hands slid up my back and grasped the back of my head, holding it firmly. As he held my head, he turned it to the side and began to kiss me.
His lips met mine, and he pressed the back of my head to force my face hard against his. Our tongues found each other and began to tangle in my mouth. His hand slid from the back of my head, and touched my face. His fingers on one side of my face and his thumb on the other, we continued to kiss. He slowly began to spin in circles as I held myself tight to him with my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He moved my face with his hand as we kissed, making my mouth meet his perfectly as if it were a missing puzzle piece snapped into place. Erik’s kisses were wet and his lips were soft, but they were not sloppy.
He held my head in place and continued to kiss me. This drove me crazy. I desperately wanted it to last forever. Kissing Erik made all other things small. Life became unimportant and insignificant when we kissed. Nothing else mattered but the kiss. I had no idea of whether or not it was night or day, which direction I faced, or where I was. It was just me and Erik and the kiss. The three of us. The three of us melted into one. I could feel his heart beating against my chest. As our lips parted, I took a shallow breath and looked into his eyes. His mouth slightly open, softly, he spoke.
“Kiss me, Kelli. Fucking kiss me.”
We continued to kiss, his hand on my face the entire time. His tongue slid past my lips and licked and darted across my top lip. Our mouths met again, warm and wet, pressed against each other - held in place perfectly by his hand. His finger lightly traced along my chin, to my mouth. As we kissed, his finger traced the outline of my upper lip. Our faces parted and he touched my mouth with his index finger, circling around my upper and lower lips entirely. I licked the tip of his finger. I opened my mouth and began to suck on his finger, pressing it to the roof of my mouth with my tongue. I slid my mouth up and down along the length of his finger. As I kissed and sucked his finger, he carried me to the island in the center of the kitchen.
Standing at the end of the island, he bent over and lowered me onto the island. As my back touched the island, I released my legs from his waist and let go of his neck. I grabbed the edge of the countertop and gripped it tightly. Laying there on my back, my mind racing, I stared at his muscular upper body. I wanted him to take me, but I wanted it to be his way. I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to do to me…however he wanted to do it. Take me. Fuck me. Fuck me now, I can’t take this anymore. God, I wanted him so bad… shove me full of your cock…make me scream.
Standing at the end of the island, he unbuttoned my jeans, grabbed the material on my thighs and pulled them down. When they met my shoes, he pulled my shoes off and dropped them. As my jeans hit the floor, he picked my shoes up and slid them back onto my feet. He grabbed my ankles and raised my legs up until my feet were on top of the counter top.
Extending his arms, he pressed my feet back until my heels were at my butt. With my legs bent, he reached around the outside of them and grasped my thighs with his hands, pulling them apart. He edged his wide upper body between my thighs and kissed my stomach. His mouth slid to my hip bone, and his tongue began to circle around my hip bone. As his tongue circled around the bone, he sucked and licked the tip of the bone. It was driving me crazy. I started to squirm and laugh and tingle all over.
“Hold still Baby Girl. Hold still. I need you to do something for me,” he said quietly.
I opened my mouth and said, “What?” But no words came out. I tried again. Nothing.
He smiled.
He continued to lick my hip bone. He kissed it and looked me in the eyes.
“You listening?” he asked.
As I squeezed the countertop, my arms beside my body, my hands beside my butt, I nodded.
“Fuck my tongue. I want you to fuck my mouth, do you hear me?”
I opened my mouth and squeaked. My eyes closed. I felt his tongue move from my hip to my clit. His palm slid slowly across my hip, and was resting in the depression between my hip and my pussy. His thumb was positioned on the skin above my pussy and was pushing upward, exposing my clit totally. As his tongue met my clit, I squirmed.
I felt his lip on top of my clit, and his tongue on the bottom. He started a motion with his tongue and lip, with my clit in between. About three seconds into it, I was done…almost to climax I felt myself begin to cum. No, not yet, not yet, please….make this last.
He lifted his head and looked me in the eye. He must have sensed I was close.
“No, don’t stop. Please, Erik, don’t fucking stop,” I begged.
“Fuck my mouth. Grind your pussy on my face Baby Girl, do you hear me?”
“Yes sir. Do it. Do that again. Exactly what you were doing, exactly,” I said, hoping he could duplicate what he was doing.
His mouth went back to where it was before, perfectly. His tongue started darting back and forth across my clit, and then his upper lip pressed against it. He then began licking my pussy lips, from the bottom to the top, with the tip of his tongue. When his tongue would reach the top, he pressed my clit against his lip with his tongue. This became a rhythmic motion, the same every time. His hands slid under my butt, and he used them to raise my butt off of the countertop. I began to work my hips against his face, to the rhythm he was setting with his tongue.
I felt like we were a machine, working in unison wi
th one another. This was perfect. With my eyes closed, there was no time, no space, no house, and no kitchen, just us. We weren’t two people any more, we were an us. A we. We became one. His tongue slid up and down and pressed against my clit. Each time his tongue touched it, my hips were raised as high as I could raise them. When he released my clit from between his tongue and his lip, I lowered my hips. This system of movements worked perfectly. It was the same every time.
With my eyes closed, I tried to focus on the movements. I don’t know how much time passed, but I heard my breathing change. I felt as if I was turning hot. I opened my eyes and looked at Erik. His eyes were open, and he was looking at my face. His mouth encompassed my entire mound. I opened my mouth. He raised his mouth off of me for a split second.
“Do it, Kelli. Do it. Cum in my mouth. Do it. And when you do, scream. Scream, Kelli. Cum in my mouth and scream. Do you hear me?”
In a short, shallow breath, I responded, “Yes.”
His mouth back in place, we began the rhythm again. Within a few seconds, I was at climax. As his tongue licked up and down, I began to scream. I squeezed the countertop and screamed as loud as I could. As I screamed, he fixed his tongue against my clit and forced it against his upper lip, holding it there, licking it rapidly. My entire body went into convulsions, and I screamed. I screamed and screamed, climaxing the entire time. I have no idea if I had one long orgasm or a hundred small ones, but I wanted it to stop as much as I wanted it to continue. My body shook, and I could hear myself screaming. When the screaming stopped, I was laying there, shaking. I could feel my wetness all over my thighs and down my crack. He began to blow on my pussy making me shake more. It felt cool.
As I lay there in shock, still recovering from my orgasm party, he unbuckled his belt. As he unfastened his pants, my heart rose to my throat in anticipation. He unzipped them, and they fell to the floor. Standing at the end of the island, his cock sticking straight out, swollen and thick, he placed his hands at his hips and almost smiled. I pressed my elbows to the island and raised my upper body off of the countertop so I could admire him. He stood there, muscular, covered in tattoos, looking gorgeous. This. Man. Made. Me. Melt.
FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME Page 88