by Jess Bentley
He bent back down, kissing Ayla’s knees, his hands beginning to roam, fingertips on her sides, making her squirm even harder.
She could feel by the way he was moving that he must be removing his pants, and she lifted her head from the sheets in an effort to see the weapon he’d so expertly wielded when they’d first met.
All she saw, however, was his dark eyes, meeting hers as his face dipped down between her legs.
He kissed all around her opening, deliberately avoiding her clit.
“Please,” Ayla hoarsely begged. “Kiss me there. Please.”
“Where, Ayla?” Mick asked, feigning innocent ignorance of her desire. “Just tell me and I’ll kiss you anywhere you want.”
“My pussy. My clit please make me come. I’ll do anything to come. Let me come for you, Mick. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for six years.”
Mick’s hands found the backs of Ayla’s thighs and lifted them up and apart, lewdly exposing everything.
He stared in reverential awe at the source of Ayla’s femininity, the altar of her womanhood.
He kissed around and around, moving lower, his lips brushing against that almost painfully-sensitive spot between her sex and her… Ayla clutched at the sheets, balling them in her fists.
Mick had never been harder.
The scent of Ayla’s arousal was overpowering. It went straight to his manhood, making it swell and throb each time he inhaled.
She was babbling, moaning, her mind melting as her temperature continued to climb. Surely, she’d burst into flames soon.
Mick intended to go down on Ayla, to worship her pussy with his mouth, for as long as she could stand it. But his cock seized control of his body, and before he realized what was happening, he had mounted Ayla.
The head of his cock split her open, leading the assault on her born-again virginity.
She’d been with no men since Mick, and part of her feared how she’d accommodate him.
As wet as she was, Mick expected to enter her easily, but he encountered resistance despite the lubrication.
He withdrew and went again, probing, searching for entrance.
Ayla pulled at his shoulders and her feet wrapped around his thighs, trying to help him reach her center.
“Let me in, Ayla,” Mick hissed as he renewed his efforts.
The command opened psychological floodgates, letting her pelvic muscles relax, and all at once Mick was finally buried inside Ayla once again.
Ayla clung to him, urging him to fuck her deeper and harder, to reach the secret places deep inside that only he had ever touched.
He kissed her mouth, joining them fully as his hips continued to piston and drive his cock into her.
“I’ve been thinking about this too,” he growled. “Ever since I first had you. The best and only pussy I ever want again.”
Ayla came furiously.
The ecstasy was jarring; Ayla had grown accustomed to quenching her desires solo, but this was akin to the difference between ordinarily eating a Hershey’s Kiss to get your chocolate fix and then being given a slab of hot fudge cake.
She thrashed and clung to Mick’s sculpted torso, biting his shoulder to anchor herself to him even more deeply.
Mick could feel her insides clenching, clinging to him, urging him along. Deeper. Harder. More.
He obliged as best he was able, shifting from a supine position to kneeling between Ayla’s splayed legs, folding them up against her chest as he varied the angle of his attack.
Ayla bit her lip as he drove into her, ponytail long gone, blonde hair splashed all over the pillows where she thrashed her head from side to side.
Her second climax caught them both off-guard, rolling in powerfully after the first. She hissed through gritted teeth, “Yes! Fuck!”
This time, Ayla’s spasms almost worked to force Mick to finish, before he was ready. He withdrew just in time, with a loud gasp.
Before Ayla could voice her concerns that something was wrong, Mick allayed her fears. “You feel so good, love. Almost too good. I want to make this last.”
Ayla nodded and watched, through glazed eyes, as Mick lowered himself, his handsome face an eyelash from her wet, quivering sex.
He mercifully resumed kissing all around Ayla’s opening, her inner thighs, above, and below. The aftershocks had her too sensitive for direct contact, which he seemed to understand.
Her fingertips explored her torso, grazing her nipples. When she was ready to continue, she whispered, “More. Please, more.”
Mick engulfed her opening with his mouth, his tongue extending to fill her where his cock had just been.
Ayla melted into the bed, her bones turning liquid and allowing for no movement.
Mick swirled and probed, French kissing Ayla passionately between her legs. His arms wrapped around her thighs and held her hips in place, and he was quickly rewarded with a fresh flow of the sweet honey he’d longed for since that evening atop the garage.
He kissed the backs and insides of her thighs as she recovered, and although she longed for his cock, he was not yet finished with devouring her.
When she was ready, he gave her a long, slow licking, backing away when she began to tremble.
The torment was exquisite, and her hands were in his hair while she whimpered and called out his name when he finally granted her release.
She tasted herself on his kiss when he penetrated her again, a deep dicking that she knew she’d feel for days afterward.
Their lips stayed in contact throughout the grueling fuck, and when it reached its crescendo she locked her ankles behind him. She’d never needed anything as badly as she needed Mick Merryweather to fill her again, to empty himself inside her.
Mick had no intention of pulling out; Ayla felt too fucking good. In and out he thrust, his pace quickening. She noted a flash of confusion on his face, a moment of vulnerability, and he exploded.
The jets of Mick’s release splashing inside her triggered Ayla’s most massive orgasm yet, and she saw stars as she shook in what she feared resembled a seizure. But she had no control of it, feeling ice cold and volcanic hot all at once, lightning bolts crashing up and down her spine.
Mick reluctantly rolled over onto his back, his fingers intertwined with Ayla’s. They stared at the ceiling as their breathing slowed, and when they both turned simultaneously to look at each other, neither could stifle a giggle.
After a time, Mick leaned over Ayla, up on his elbow, and he began to kiss her again. Her forehead, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her chin. Down along the side of her neck and to her flushed chest.
When he captured her right nipple between his lips, Ayla moaned and warned him that he’d be in trouble if he didn’t stop.
“Promise?” Mick asked, leaning across Ayla’s body to give her stiff left nipple a kiss.
Ayla reached down and for the first time took hold of Mick Merryweather’s cock. Thick and heavy, she squeezed and pulled on it as it swelled back to life.
She wrapped both hands around it, marveling at how soft the skin felt, yet how rock solidly hard it was. It had power. Heft.
Ayla craved it back inside her, but more than that, her heart sought the same satisfaction. She had to know.
“Can we… do you think you’d want to be in Preston’s life?” Ayla asked between kisses. She knew this was an awkward moment to mention it.
“I’d be honored to,” he replied. “I was Royal Air Force, Ayla. My life became dedicated to a code of loyalty and duty. It’s my duty to be Preston’s father. To help raise him to be the best man he can be. But more than that, more than just my duty, the flood of emotion that filled my soul when you told me about him… I can’t wait to hear him call me Dad. To honor my own father by trying, almost certainly failing, but trying like hell to be half the man he was.”
Ayla rolled over on top of Mick and guided his cock back inside her. She rode it slowly, making love to him deep into the night.
It was only minutes before she
was to arrive at work that she realized she hadn’t yet called in sick.
She told Randy she’d had car trouble driving back from California, and that she didn’t get home until late. He granted her the day off, and she spent the extra time tangled up in bed naked with Mick, a happy smile spread across her very satisfied face.
Chapter 16
Despite every ounce and inch of her body arguing to the contrary, Ayla forced herself out of bed and into the shower early the next morning, leaving a sleeping Mick where he lay. She couldn’t count on Teri being as understanding as Randy had been, and she knew she needed to make it to work at the call center.
Before she slipped away, she stared at Mick, the sheet diagonally concealing the right side of his chest, but leaving the other side bare to his waist. Even in repose, he appeared to be flexing. She briefly considered trying to get him hard again for round three, but she exercised her better judgement and decided she ought to do her best to maintain her primary source of income.
The shower was marvelous; nozzles on three walls and from the ceiling. Blisteringly hot water massaged all her aching muscles, and although the only product Mick had inside was a man’s body wash, it smelled just like him, so she didn’t mind terribly much.
When she emerged into a bathroom filled with blinding, billowing steam, she searched for a towel for a moment where she recalled seeing them hanging. Mick had already pulled it down, however, and he wrapped her up in fluffy comfort, lifting her off her feet and carrying her back to his bed.
“I need breakfast. I’m positively famished,” he announced, before diving back into her cleft, coaxing two orgasms from her exhausted body with his mouth before finally relenting.
“As much as I’d love for you to do that all day, I sadly have to go to work,” Ayla explained. “In which case I have to go home and change clothes. I’m already going to be pushing it to make it on time.”
“When can I see you again, Ayla? I have to call my mum later this morning to convince her to use the plane ticket I bought for her, but assuming I can get her here, I’d love for her to see Preston, if not meet him. What do you think? Is it too soon?”
“For him to have a grandma, out of the blue, yeah, maybe too soon. I haven’t figured out how to explain to him that you’re his dad.” Ayla sensed disappointment in Mick, and the last thing she wanted was to give him reason to reconsider wanting to get involved with Preston. Or with her. “But I’m dying to! We can all get together, maybe to eat or something?”
“Splendid,” Mick agreed. “Let me put on some clothes and I’ll run you home to get ready for work. If you really feel adamant about it.”
Ayla had rolled over onto her stomach on the bed, and Mick had been sitting at the foot. When he rose, she marveled at his body, seeing it in daylight for the first time. His cock swung freely, resting on the balls she’d emptied twice, just hours ago.
“Mick. Come here a moment,” Ayla requested, as she scooted to the edge of the bed.
He returned to her, shamelessly naked, and she studied him. She traced the scar on his thigh with her finger, and when she reached the inside, his semi-rigid cock pulsed.
She smiled up at him, dropped down, and took him in her mouth.
Mick groaned. The visual of Ayla’s beautiful face looking up at him, mouth filled with his manhood, was extraordinary.
She sucked him slowly, feeling him lengthen and harden on her tongue. When he reached full attention, she bobbed wildly, swirling her tongue everywhere it could reach. Mick struggled to maintain his balance, feeling his body responding to Ayla’s mouth.
Ayla could taste herself all over his wide cock, and the flavor made her wild with lust.
Just when Mick felt moments away from release, Ayla stopped, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “I like the idea of you being desperate all day. Thinking about this moment.”
“Ayla, I’ve been desperate for years.” He placed his hands beneath her arms and lifted her, kissing her deeply. “I lost you once. I’ll never let it happen again.”
Chapter 17
“Looks like another occurrence, Ayla,” a delighted Teri Palermo announced, as Ayla clocked in three minutes late.
The last minute blowjob would cost her a two-day suspension from work, a fact of which Teri was more than eager to remind Ayla. “You know what that means! Sus. Pen. Sion! Two days. That means two days with no pay. Tsk tsk. I thought you loved your little boy, Ayla. Don’t you want to provide for him? You look like shit, by the way.”
Ayla had reached her limit.
“Teri, if being late is an occurrence, and a suspension, what would happen if I told you to go fuck yourself?”
Teri was stunned, caught completely off-guard. Her mouth moved, but no sounds came out.
“Good luck finding husband number seven or eight, or whatever it is these days, when you look like the Joker’s twin sister because of all the bad Botox and permanent makeup.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ayla noticed co-workers peering over the top of their cubicles and around corners, wide-eyed.
Teri still struggled to compose herself, pointing at the work badge hanging from a lanyard around Ayla’s neck while she mumbled nonsensically.
“I… you c-can’t… I’ll…”
“What? This? Here, take it.” Ayla pulled the lanyard over her head and threw it at her manager. “I never want to see you or this building again. And if you ever mention my son again, you better pray you never run into me outside of this building.”
Two men in blue company security shirts came rushing up, flanking Ayla. “It’s time to go, Ms. Murray,” the smaller one, Angelo, said. He’d always had a smile and wave for Ayla, and she suspected he had a bit of a crush on her. He had a job to do, and she didn’t begrudge him.
Teri burst into tears amidst muffled applause from the cubicles behind her.
As Ayla crossed the threshold of the building for the final time, security in tow, Angelo hurried his pace to get near enough to whisper in Ayla’s ear.
“That was legendary. She deserved every word of it. Sorry you’ll be losing your job. Good luck, Ayla.”
“Thanks, good luck to you, too,” Ayla said as she distanced herself from the blue shirts and her former place of employment. It wasn’t until she reached her car and drove away that it occurred to her that her outburst, as good as it felt, had cost her the money that paid most of her bills. When she could afford to pay them.
“Shit!” Ayla exclaimed, banging her steering wheel with both hands. “Not smart, girl.”
Meanwhile, Mick’s morning had run into an obstacle of its own; his mother.
After dropping Ayla off and sharing a fantastic kiss, he’d made the call he’d been dreading.
“Hello, Mum,” he said when she answered her phone.
“Mickey! You’re in London, then?”
“Not exactly. I’m still in Las Vegas. Change of plans. You’re going to be visiting me instead.”
“Well, that’s a load of shite,” Bev Merryweather countered. “I’ll do no such thing. Now stop taking the piss and tell me the truth.”
“I cashed in my ticket. I bought a new one. You leave first thing in the morning.”
“Why on Earth would I want to visit that Godforsaken desert?”
“I hesitate to tell you this, because it’s going to require tact and diplomacy, but there’s somebody here who you need to meet. And he’s not going to be flying to Sheffield anytime soon.” Mick sped past each of the two exits that would make the most sense to get him directly home. He wanted to drive. To get out into the desert and be alone with his thoughts, once his conversation with his mum ended.
“Then I guess we shan’t be meeting, since I won’t be getting on a plane anytime soon. Does it give you great pleasure to disappoint an old, lonely woman like this?”
Free from traffic, a straight, open road ahead of him, Mick shut his eyes and stepped on the accelerator. He kept them closed for a beat of his heart, and then a second, befo
re speaking.
“Mum, I thought you’d be excited to meet your grandson.”
“Grandson? Hah! If only my only son thought highly enough of me to give me one. That’s a laugh.”
“I’m serious. His name is Preston. He’s six years old. I’ve only just found out about him. He looks just like Frankie.”
Silence.
Followed by an intense wailing from the Sheffield end of the line.
When Bev Merryweather had composed herself enough to speak, she had a million questions for Mick.
He assured her that everything was as he suggested, and that he looked forward to seeing her.
Bev couldn’t get off the phone quickly enough. She had a hair appointment to make and a trip to the department store downtown to make, to buy a new outfit. It’s not every day one becomes a grandmother, and any grandmother worth her salt should look her best for the occasion. Especially one acquainted with the Queen herself.
Chapter 18
After a drive through the winding road of the desert and out toward the mountains, Mick decided he was all in. The euphoria of being with Ayla had started to fade, allowing his logical brain to take control again, but nothing had changed. He was a father, and he intended to dive into the deep end, just as soon as Ayla would let him.
To show he was serious, Mick took a trip to the bank. Preston was six, and Mick’s involvement had been zero.
What was a year worth, monetarily? A month? A missed birthday? Christmas? He knew Ayla struggled, he could scarcely believe it when she described her daily schedule to him. He’d been trained to perform on little-to-no sleep, but she took things to another level altogether.
She worked herself to the bone to provide for her son, and he owed. He knew he did.
Mick lived a mostly Spartan lifestyle. His car and condo were perks of a job for which he was already extremely well-compensated. He’d invested money earned in his previous careers well, and there’d been insurance settlements when both his brother and father passed away.