by V. L. Locey
“I thought about calling you but I wanted to make it a surprise,” I explained as I enjoyed the look of feminine aggravation on her lovely face. “Surprise! Wanna monkey around?”
“You are as subtle as a rocket launcher,” she countered, but a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Lie down there and let me ice that bruise. Then maybe we’ll think about having some fun.”
It struck me as I settled onto my stomach that if Lila asked me to cluck like a chicken at center ice, I’d do it and throw in a free dance. The bed dipped when she sat down beside me. My muscles contracted when ice met skin.
“Your body looks like it’s waged war, Seamus.”
Her hip brushed my thigh.
“It has, baby.”
I willed my body to relax while she arranged the ice pack. My eyes began to close. Her hand slipped from the ice pack, long fingernails raking over my ass cheek. Knowing how she loved to tease, I forced myself to lie still, forehead resting on my hands, while she tickled and tempted my ass, thighs, calves and bare feet. My cock thumped in time with my pulse. Bright yellow fingernails moved up the insides of my thighs. My balls tightened. I groaned into the bedding when she dragged a nail over my sac.
“Shit, Lila.”
“Every time I see you in my bed, I have to wonder what I did to get so lucky.”
Her hand wiggled between my legs, her warm fingers cupping my balls then squeezing. My legs spread for her of their own accord. The ice pack fell off my lower back. I figured she might pick it up and fuss, and I was right.
“I can’t imagine anyone thinking that having a washed-up hockey player in a kilt rolling around on their fancy pillows is lucky.”
My cock was pinned between my stomach and the bed. She began working on the muscles up by my shoulders after placing the ice pack back where it belonged.
“It takes a special man to come back to my bed,” she said while her strong fingers dug deeply into my flesh. It felt fantastic. “Most come once, pun fully intended, and then they leave, curiosity abated, never to be heard from again.”
I rolled onto my back to look at her. Her eyes widened slightly.
“Okay, that is total bullshit. Any man should be dropping to his knees and thanking God Almighty for a woman like you.”
“And I love that you think so.” Her gaze was tender for a moment, then it flittered from my banged-up face to my cock. The tip of her pink tongue moved over her lower lip, her eyes growing smoky and sensual. “I wish you’d keep ice on that nasty.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve had much worse, trust me. Why don’t you lose that nightgown and shawl and plant that sexy ass right here?” I patted my thighs.
She struck a thoughtful pose, her long yellow fingernail tapping her chin, her red lips pursed. I wanted to roll her onto her back and laugh all at once.
“Come on, baby. I drove all the way from Cayuga for some sweetness.”
Her gaze flickered to me right before she reached up to push her hair from her face theatrically.
“That’s true.”
With that pronouncement, she stood. The shawl shimmied from her shoulders to the floor. I grabbed my cock and ran my thumb over the weeping head. A shudder ran through me. She stood with her back to me.
“You sure you’re up to this, Seamus?” she asked with a coy peek over her broad shoulder.
I tugged on my hard dick in reply.
“You do have a way with words,” she sighed humorously.
“You want a redhead with flapping gums, hook up with Kalinski.”
“If he and Daniel weren’t wed, I’d do so, and happily,” she teased, pushing one thin strap off her shoulder.
“Over my dead body,” I snarled, just as she wanted.
The other strap shimmied down her arm. I gave my dick another tug, my gaze locked on her as she wiggled free of her nightgown, slowly revealing her bare body.
“Fuck,” I moaned when she turned to face me, arms over her head in a pose aimed to titillate.
It worked. Oh man, how it worked. She was stunningly beautiful and as sexy as a fucking pagan goddess. I ached to get my hands on her, but I knew she had a wee bit more prancing to do. She liked to get me worked into a foam before lying down with me.
“Do I still look good to you, Seamus?” Lila purred, reaching up to lift her shoulder-length hair from her neck.
I nodded silently, my sight roaming over her biceps, down to her hairless armpits. Any hair that thought to visit her body was dealt with firmly and immediately. When she turned the right way, the scars from her breast augmentation surgery were visible amid the lines under her arm. That was a worry for her. She rubbed oils and creams under her arms daily. I had told her it wasn’t necessary, but she fussed about such tiny imperfections. We all had scars from life. If only all of mine were hidden under shaggy red armpit hair.
“Better than good, baby – great,” I replied, making her smile and drop her hair.
Then the real show began. No wonder she had tens of thousands of fans online. She was a true performer. A small shiv of jealousy wiggled up from deep inside. I worked real hard to keep that shit buried. Madame Lila was a known celebrity in her field. Her boudoir images had paid for this house, her car and all the clothes in her closets. Yeah, closets with an S. The woman had a serious fashion addiction, rivaled only by her shoe and manicure dependency. Therefore me getting my Scots up about the fact that tens of thousands of men jerked off to her nude images had to be controlled. It was a funny dance, though, because while she loved to hear me be playfully possessive, if I went serious Cro-Magnon, the woman lost her shit.
“Shit, Lila, stop teasing me,” I said when she cupped her big breasts in her hands.
She winked down at me and pinched her dark nipples, trembled visibly, then did it again. I worked my shaft faster, feeling like the sole patron at the world’s sexist peep show. Knowing how much I enjoyed those orbs, she took her time fondling them. I wet my lips. Hunger for her was a living, breathing thing. My hand moved faster with each soft moan that passed over those ruby lips.
“Watch me now, Seamus,” she whispered in a deep, husky voice that made my toes curl.
Her hands left her tits and those delectable dark nipples, and began to move downward, creeping lower inch by tantalizing inch. She stroked her soft belly, smoothed her hands over her hips, and began rotating her pelvis around and around, her cock standing at attention.
“Are you hungry, lover?”
“Lila, I am fucking starving.”
She ran her fingernails along the length of her prick, pulling a sound of utter need and frustration from me. Then she did what I needed. She kneeled on the bed, then threw a leg over me.
My hand left my dick and settled on her tit. “Lean up here – let me have them.”
She fell forward, her hands coming to rest on either side of my head. One hard nipple bumped my top lip, and I sucked it into my mouth. Lila liked that, I could tell. She made this shuddering, whispery sound whenever I did something that she liked.
“Oh, Seamus, that is so good. Careful, honey, careful. Watch that nasty bruise,” she warned when I bent my legs to remove her ass from my cock. It felt too good having those two firm globes cradling my dick. We had to make this last, or at least try. I nipped at her nipple, sucked it, and rubbed my rough cheeks against it. Lila whispered sweet things to me and replaced one breast with the other, her cock scrubbing along my sternum as she undulated against me. I loved her tits, really I did. And she knew it, which was why she kept feeding me one then the other, left and right, until both big brown mounds were shiny from my saliva.
“I need to be in you,” I grunted when she sat back up, her nipples hard and long from my attention. My gaze moved down to her long prick. Shit, I wanted that too. I wanted all of her at the same time. I wanted to be in her and I wanted her inside me. The woman made me bucking fuggy.
“Wiggle up here. Fuck my mouth.”
“Would you like me to suck you too?” she asked while gently
making her way up my body.
“No – shit, no. I’ll come before you even get your lips on me.”
She smiled, then sat on my chest. I cradled her ass in my hands, guiding her forward. Her eyes and mine met just as I lapped off a pearly drop of pre-cum from the head of her cock. Something about the salty, slick taste of her left me weak. It set her above any other lover I’d ever had. Sucking dick has been as natural for me as a good snap shot since I was a young pup. Just like eating pussy. It’s all good. But Lila. Oh man, my Lila…
She arched back, her hands coming to rest on my thighs as her hips punched forward. I took her all, every inch, eyes watering and jaw stretched. Even when I couldn’t breathe, I lifted her up and forward, desperate to get more. Low, throaty purrs and moans rolled out of her. The sound of her heated huffs combined with the slurping noises of her cock moving in and out of my mouth filled the bedroom. When she was close, she tried to pull out. My hands on her ass kept her where I wanted her.
“Seamus – oh, Seamus,” she cried out as she came.
Swallowing was tough, and I gagged but held her in place, her body convulsing and her dick jumping. Her nails dug into my legs, the burn adding to the sights, smells and sensations of her orgasm.
“Oh Seamus, that is so sweet.”
She panted and writhed, her skin coated with a fine sheen of sweat. Seeing her like that was all it took to push me over the edge. I let her pull out, then bucked her off my chest. She tumbled onto her back and I was on her, covering her mouth with mine. I ran my tongue over hers, ensuring she tasted herself.
“Fuck, baby,” I said, then dove into her mouth again. She was soft and hard, sweet and zesty, masculine and feminine – a feast for a man who enjoyed a sexual smorgasbord. “You ready for me?”
“Yes,” she replied on a shaky breath out.
Lila rolled the condom over me. Lila lubed me up. Lila draped her long, long legs over my shoulders. Lila whispered for me to slip inside and come home. Fear of shooting my load before I even got inside her was a real concern.
“You like what you see, honey?”
I guided the head of my cock with two fingers and entered her. She gasped, her hands going to my ass. A moment of resistance, then glory followed, my cock going deep on the first thrust. My brain turned into a soft-boiled egg.
“Sorry, baby, so sorry,” I ground out in a low tone, then began pounding away.
She told me it was simply delightful, then crossed her ankles behind my head. I let my weight carry me forward. Arms locked, hands fisted by her shoulders, sweet nothings and moans of pleasure flowing from us both, I rocked into her forcefully. She dug and clawed at my ass, her nails scraping the flesh raw. I kept putting it to her until my balls tightened up. Then it was one last thrust to bury myself in all that hot, tight and beautiful. She cinched her legs to my ears as my hips rolled. Her hands were on my biceps now, rubbing up and down and creating enough friction that the hair on my arms should have ignited.
“I do love your arms,” she whispered to me while I shuddered so violently speech was impossible.
When my elbows folded, I landed on her, soundly.
She giggled and wiggled, tasting my ear while stroking my arms and ego. “I missed you so, so much Seamus.”
I kissed her, then slid to the side, my cock slipping out of her. She left the bed as she always did, to “freshen up” as she put it. Me, I just lay there on my side, riding out the last tremors of a fucking great orgasm.
Sleep didn’t tiptoe up behind me and sprinkle sleepy dust over me. It exploded from out of nowhere and gave me a flying kick to the head like Jean-Claude Van Damme in Kickboxer.
“Seamus, my goodness, please remove your fine white fanny from my duvet with that condom leaking all over the place.”
I snapped awake to find my Lila glowering at me. She had pulled on another yellow gown, this one long and flowing with a fancy lace thing covering her tits. She had artfully tied a bright yellow scarf around her head.
“You look good, baby,” I murmured as she shoved on me to help me get up.
I don’t recall much aside from flushing the condom and returning to her bed. It now had clean sheets and a fresh cover. I cocked an eyebrow and climbed in beside her and pulled her in to my side. My head sank into a soft pillow.
“I swear, I do not know how you men manage alone,” she said as her head came to rest on my pectoral. “Do you want some aspirin for your back?”
“Nah, good,” I muttered while she snuggled closer and pressed the clean covers up under my scraggly chin.
“Okay, darling, you just sleep.” She ran a hand over my chest and I inhaled deeply.
There was a “Goodnight, baby” on the tip of my tongue, but Jean-Claude appeared again. I always seemed to sleep better with her right beside me, and that night was no exception.
My cell phone alarm woke me up far too early. Lila had laid it on the pillow next to my head. Sometimes I wondered if she knew me better than I knew myself.
After I got the alarm to stop, I slowly sat up, pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, and stumbled out of the bedroom, my body protesting every step. I could hear the soft sounds of the TV in the kitchen. I couldn’t make out what was playing, but I knew Lila was up and whipping up something delicious for breakfast.
Ignoring the powder room fluff all around me, I flipped up the lid and aimed carefully. Lila greatly disliked “man messes”, as she called them. I rolled my neck, then growled low in my chest when my sight touched on the bloody urine in the spotless white bowl.
“I will find you, Danielson, and I will kill you,” I snarled in a passable Liam Neeson imitation before flushing. What kind of dick does that kind of shit in a preseason game?
A shower followed, and while it helped with the pain, it didn’t take it away. Which flung us right back to “This Sucks Land” and hours on the road followed by morning skate. Or was it a scrimmage? Maybe special teams drills? Fucked if I could recall. I located and tossed back a couple more aspirin, wrinkling my nose when the pills began to melt on my tongue.
When I was back in Lila’s bedroom, I found my clothes neatly folded on top of her dresser. She enjoyed picking out my attire. After wrapping the colors of Clan McGarrity around my waist and pulling a black T-shirt over my head, I grabbed my duffel from the floor and made my way to the kitchen. Halfway there, a smile tugged at my lips. She had put the country classics station on. My man Mel Tillis was singing “Good Woman Blues”, which was one of my favorites. Lila, food, and Mel Tillis. That might make waking up at five bearable.
Lila was at the stove when I walked in.
“Hey baby, what you got cooking?”
She snapped out of the trance she must have been in and quickly began futzing around with a pot on the stove.
“Silly me, standing here lollygagging when my man is awake and hungry,” she said a bit too quickly, and giggled.
I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. I burrowed my nose into her hair. She waved a hand in the air to shoo me away, but that was a no-go.
“Everything okay, baby?”
She nodded.
I looked around her to see an empty pot on the stove.
“You must think me the biggest fool in Scranton,” she replied thickly.
I ran my hands over her belly.
“Standing here stirring an empty pot when you have to leave so soon – I’m a real distracted ninny.” Lila might be many things, but a ninny was not one of them. “You and your loving kept me up too late. My brain is all sorts of scattered.”
“Baby, you’re never scattered. What’s wrong? I wish you would tell me.”
Her back stiffened and she gently placed the spoon on the counter. When she turned in my arms to look at me, I saw fear in her eyes, and that ramped up my concern tenfold.
“Can we sit down?”
“Sure, sure.”
Arm around her waist, I led her to a kitchen chair. Once she was in her seat, I turned the coffee
pot on and the classic country down. We didn’t speak until the coffee was done and we both had a cup in hand. She sipped gently, her brown eyes repeatedly darting to me. The fourth time, I raised an eyebrow, and she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, then lowered her coffee to the table.
“I’d been hoping to keep this from you until we had more time invested in our relationship. I was scared of losing you when you found out, Seamus.”
A small tingle of unease crept up my spine. I couldn’t imagine there was one thing she could tell me that would make me leave her.
“Lila, I’m not going anywhere. Well, I mean, I am in the physical sense, but not in the emotional sense. Soon as I can get a day free, I’ll be right back here begging for more of your sweetness.”
This was so unlike her. Usually my Lila was so sure of herself and her lifestyle.
A trembling smile played on her full lips. “You might change your mind when I tell you this.” She blew out an unsteady breath over pursed lips, took another sip of her sickeningly sweet coffee, swallowed several times, then began her tale. “Once upon a time, there was a little black boy named Joseph Lewis Abernathy who was born in Raleigh but spent his childhood in a tiny little town called Miller’s Bluff, North Carolina. Little Joseph was not a happy child, because as soon as he was old enough to understand the concept of boy and girl, he knew that God had put him in the wrong body.”
She had never once spoken of how her past had shaped her. I had never asked, because it was her story to tell when she was ready, and I loved her as she was now. While her journey was important, it wouldn’t have an impact on my feelings about her. She was my woman, and I adored her. I wanted to say something but didn’t know what, so I sat there, mug resting between my big, scarred hands, and just let the woman talk.
“Well, as soon as Joseph mentioned this to his parents, they told him that he was stupid and weird to want boobies, since he was a boy. Therefore Joseph, who did not want to be stupid or weird, never told anyone about how badly he wanted to be a girl. He hid it deep inside, and his parents thought he’d forgotten about being weird and stupid. They were happy to see that phase pass. Joseph dated girls and went to college, where he studied theater while his parents thought he was majoring in accounting.”