So I unfastened the button and pulled the zipper down with aching slowness as Shane drew my lower lip into his mouth and sucked it—much in the fashion I planned to do with his cock in short order. It was then, as I pulled his jeans apart and wriggled my hand inside, that I felt the strength of his erection. Part of me then wanted to simply yank my own jeans down and ask him to fuck me right then and there, purely in desperation and need.
Instead, I followed through with my plan. I worked my hand into his underwear and ran my fingers along his lovely cock. It pressed into my hand, yearning to breathe free, needing to be loose, and so, with the help of my other hand, I fished it out of his jeans before stroking it twice. His mouth grew hard and almost immobile against mine as I took him prisoner, and he made a breathy sound that was almost inaudible against the sputtering of the coffee pot as it finished its job, but that noise told me I needed to move forward, give him the relief he needed.
I dropped to my knees and, getting my first glimpse at his big boy, I licked the head. Unlike a lot of women I knew, I didn’t mind blowjobs. In fact, I’d found them to be a great sort of foreplay. Hearing and feeling a man respond to the pleasure I gave him revved my own engine, and I could already sense my pussy clenching against itself in anticipation of what I hoped was to come. Yes, there had been a couple of men in my past who’d been worthless after ejaculating in my mouth, but most men were instead grateful and happy and willing to express their gratitude by making sure I enjoyed myself as well. And I wasn’t picky about the how—I left that up to my partner’s imagination. As long as I, too, experienced orgasm, I didn’t care how he did it.
But to the task at hand. I licked the head again before pulling it into my mouth and Shane shoved his fingers in my hair, just as Greg had had him do at the shoot, but this time he pulled my hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it in his hand against my scalp, as his other hand palmed my head and he hung on for the ride. As I began drawing him in and letting him out, mirroring the motions he’d perform were my mouth instead my pussy, I heard him make another guttural sound before he said, “Oh, yeah, baby. Holy fuck.”
I was on the right track, apparently.
Maybe he was closer than I thought.
I increased the pressure and speed then, bobbing my head back and forth over his thickness, appreciating the feel of his veins against my tongue. When I sensed him pulling on my hair a bit, I didn’t stop until I heard the desperation in his voice. “Stop for a sec. Come here.”
I looked up, his cock still in my mouth, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. I eased him off my tongue before I asked, “Doesn’t that feel good?” Was he insane?
“Amazing, baby.” I didn’t know why, but I was liking the little nickname—hoping he wasn’t calling me baby because he’d forgotten my name.
He hadn’t, had he?
But there was no sense breaking the mood to ask. I’d find out soon enough. I cocked my head as I stood while his hands urged me up, waiting for him to continue his thought. “But I’m not ready to lose it. Not yet.” He placed his hands on my waistband then. “My turn.”
Even if my brain hadn’t registered his words, my pussy had. His mouth pressed into mine as his fingers pulled my jeans apart and then he drove his hands down the back, his hands cupping my ass underneath my panties. Then my muscles clenched once more, aching for his attention. But as he ended his kiss, he shoved my clothing down my legs before sliding his hands up my side and lifting my ass onto the top of the island.
We kissed again as his hands roamed my back before finding the clasp on my bra. He’d seen my breasts before but I wasn’t going to complain if he wanted to give them more attention. My brain wasn’t there and it would only prolong the agony I’d been feeling for hours now…but a little more wouldn’t hurt. As he peeled the bra off my body, though, his fingers merely brushed up against the nipples, teasing, and he began kissing my neck, my collarbone, and then my cleavage on his way down.
I glanced behind me because, even though his place seemed a tad stark, I couldn’t remember what I’d have to contend with if I chose to lie back. Behind me was a knife rack, a standing paper towel holder, and a cutting board. I didn’t want to push them to clear the way for my head, so I placed a hand to my side and behind for leverage so I could lean a little without actually lying down. My other hand was playing with the short hair at the base of his head as his kisses took him past my navel.
His hands brushed over my thighs then as he pushed them into a wider V, and he ran his thumb down my slit. He made a low sound of satisfaction, almost like a growl, before he looked up at me, his brow heavy over his twinkling eyes. He moved his head forward as he brushed his thumb slowly and with intent over my throbbing clit, and a sigh escaped my mouth as the promise of release approached.
I closed my eyes as he drew his tongue over that spot and I tried but failed to scoot my ass a little closer to the edge of the island. I felt like I was suctioned to the top of the counter and I would have had to lift myself up, breaking his tongue away from me—and that was the last thing I wanted. So in my slight discomfort I had to find a way to focus on the pleasure alone.
After a few more tongue strokes, it wasn’t hard to do. I’d closed my eyes and bitten my lip as my breathing deepened, and I felt my body get to that place of imminence, where I knew the orgasm was near. Each delicious stroke of his tongue brought it that much closer. But then he moved his hands to my ass and tried pulling me closer, discovering like I had that it was no easy task. But he slid his hands underneath my bottom and then pulled me closer to him before spreading my legs farther apart. I adjusted the hand I was leaning against and ran my fingers through his hair once more with the other as his tongue renewed its attack on my clit.
Breaking the action, though, he then let his tongue drift lower, and he darted it inside my pussy. He slid two fingers inside before gliding his tongue back up and then he began lashing me with that perfect weapon. A moan rumbled my throat as I felt my thighs begin to quiver and I forced them to stay open while Shane worked his magic on the one spot that mattered right now. In response, he increased the speed and pressure of his tongue against that throbbing spot until my entire world caved in around me, causing explosions in my head, making my entire body give up what it had been holding back. As wave after wave of pleasure pummeled my body, I continued to fight my legs to stay open and take whatever Shane had left to give while I let the rest of myself experience pure delight.
As my orgasm subsided, I realized I’d been quite vocal. Coming to my senses, I opened my eyes and saw the look of satisfaction on his face as he stood. “Are you ready to take me?”
Was I ready? I’d only been dying to feel him inside me for hours. But I was still out of breath and I hoped I could communicate all that with a nod. He reached in the back pocket of the jeans riding loosely around his ass and pulled a condom out of his wallet. Ah…a man who was always prepared. I had to respect that. He tossed the wrapper and wallet to the ground before pushing his jeans and underwear down a bit more. Within seconds, he’d rolled the condom on and sidled up to me, forcing himself inside my yearning body.
My involuntary moans began again, first as a whimper, and I realized I had another orgasm waiting at the ready. If he could just hit all the right spots with his steely cock, I could explode in the pleasure zone again. My entire body was hypersensitive now so it was also responsive to whatever he did down there. A second climax would not be a problem.
“God, you’re so tight.” I heard what sounded almost like a hum in his throat as he held me close, one hand at the base of my back, the other at my neck, just below the hairline. I wrapped my arms around him, sliding my hands inside the back of his jeans so I could squeeze his ass. His length inside me moving rhythmically returned me to that magic place once more, and my thighs began undulating against him as my brain screamed with delight.
“Yeah,” I heard him breathe and then he growled, giving in to an orgasm of his own.
We finishe
d together, and I felt my body begin to cool, my breathing slow, but my heart continued to thud in my chest. His lips were nuzzled against my neck, his face buried in my hair, and part of me expected a moment of tenderness. Why, I didn’t know, because I hadn’t experienced that kind of behavior after animalistic lovemaking…but part of me yearned for that.
I wouldn’t admit it out loud.
He came close. His bearded chin brushed against my cheek as he brought his face close to mine. “I have to tell you something.”
My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. Something about his tone told me this wasn’t that moment of sweetness I’d been yearning for. Oh, shit. Did he have some disease? What the hell would be so important that he’d have to tell me immediately after making love but that he hadn’t felt the need to divulge before?
“I, uh…I have a girlfriend.”
This was supposed to be just a release, just a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. We had our fun and would go our separate ways and that would be it.
So why the hell did that hurt? And what was I going to do next…?
PART TWO
SO I WAS standing in Shane Sanders’s kitchen, mostly naked, definitely vulnerable, in a moment that should have felt like heaven. Instead, his revelation brought me to my knees. “I, uh…I have a girlfriend.”
I felt pain in my heart, an ache that didn’t feel earned because I barely knew the guy. I’d never done something like this before, abandoning all sense of decorum, fucking a total stranger, simply because we’d been unnaturally put in a position where our sexual imaginations had gone wild.
But, whether or not the hurt in my heart should have happened, it was real. Shane’s little revelation felt like a knife in my chest…and I couldn’t find any words.
“I’m sorry, Ivy. I should have told you before.”
Why was he telling me now? I was getting ready to leave, and had he not said a word, I never would have known any better—because no matter how I was feeling after coupling with this man, I knew the headiness and rush of climax would wear off soon enough and I’d realize none of what had happened to us was realistic.
But he was making it real.
He must have seen all that on my face. “Ivy, I don’t do shit like this—and I’m not a cheater.”
“Yeah, you are. You just told me you are.”
He closed his eyes, nodding. “I am now. But what I’m trying to tell you is I’ve never done this before.” Oh, the true words of a cheater. I’d heard this song before. “What happened between us today convinces me that I need to break up with her. We weren’t compatible anyway—I knew that already—but I was trying. And now I see how stupid that is.”
I’d heard similar stories to that one, too. I needed to just get the hell out of there and collect my thoughts. The problem was he’d been my ride here, but I had no desire to spend any more time with him than I had to.
Why couldn’t I say anything? Why weren’t the words coming out? My tongue was frozen.
Because I was hurt, and I was afraid of revealing that.
So I let my emotions turn to anger, twist into something else I had no problems exposing. The venom in my voice was unmistakable. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me. This was a one-time thing, so it doesn’t really matter to me. I don’t need to know.” I yanked up my panties while looking for my bra. I needed to cover myself up because that alone would help me feel stronger.
He got close then, effectively pinning my body against the island, and he stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. “This is stupid, Ivy. I…shouldn’t be feeling anything for you, but I do. And I want to see you again—so I knew I needed to be honest.”
My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice and I just needed to get the hell out of there—so I could regroup, find myself, feel like normal. Too much had happened too fast, and I felt confused and hypersensitive. I couldn’t trust myself right now.
“Maybe you should have been honest before.”
“I…I don’t know what came over me. Didn’t you feel it, too?”
Was he talking about the crazy attraction, the undeniable desire I’d been experiencing all afternoon in his presence? Or was he touching on the deeper, stranger feeling that had come over me while we’d been in the middle of our animalistic lovemaking?
And did I dare trust myself to talk about it?
Hell, no. “Look, Shane, none of that matters.” Ah, my cold intellectual self was taking over. Good. I needed that part of myself right now. “What happened happened, but do you see me ever trusting you after something like this?” Pulling myself away from his grasp, I affixed my bra, but I forced myself to keep my eyes connected to his. I had to know he was getting the message. “There is nothing here to salvage, Shane, so your little confession served no purpose except to ease your conscience. So mission accomplished.”
“Ivy—”
“No, you don’t get to say anything else.” I touched my index finger to his lips—a mistake, but one I hoped I could recover from. I had to leave now before he could see the bleeding of my figurative wound. I needed to hide somewhere, tend to it, help it begin to heal, and only then could I trust myself to say anything unemotional or safe. I’d managed to do okay thus far, but the longer I was here, the more likely I was to do something I’d regret—like cry or beat on his chest or break something.
I found my camisole and pulled it over my head. So far, he was obeying my last command, that of shutting up. It felt tense and awkward in there but it was better than talking. I could smell the strength of the freshly brewed coffee in the room and I had the fleeting thought that I could use a cup right about now…but no way were Shane and I going to have a friendly mug of Joe together now. In fact, I knew it would be best if I never saw the man again…ever.
Jeans, boots, purse, jacket. I was ready to go. A tiny piece of my heart—the melodramatic girly part I’d buried since beginning more intellectual pursuits—wanted to say something like “Have a nice life” or “Good luck with your girlfriend,” but the rest of my heart, the part that was hurting, barely managed a goodbye as I walked out the door. He actually held it open for me, his jeans zipped so that if a neighbor passed by, he wouldn’t be accused of indent exposure, but he had to try to be a gentleman one last time. “You sure I can’t give you a ride back to your car?”
My lips pursed, I shook my head violently before storming down the hall, and I was barely in the elevator when the tears that had been threatening finally began to fall.
* * *
The good thing about a long walk is it clears your head like nothing else can. Even in the city where you’re surrounded by cars, noise, advertising, concrete, and gas fumes, the motion helps you think. And by the time I reached my car, I had blisters on my heels but I also had resolve. I would cry no more tears over this man Shane whom I hadn’t known before today and would never see again, except maybe on the cover of a book.
And, as the days passed by and I got back in the groove of my structured life, I managed to convince myself that what had happened that day had not only been a fluke, but it was almost like Shane and I been under the influence. Greg’s camera, his words and direction, the poses—they all figured into this weird scheme where we engaged in behavior unlike ourselves. Well, I could say that for myself at least. I couldn’t speak for Shane, but if he was anything like me, he would say the same thing.
So distance from the event gave me several things—perspective, control over my emotions, assurance that I hadn’t completely lost my mind, and forgiveness. I let go of the anger I felt at Shane for betraying not only his girlfriend but even me by not telling me the truth immediately. And I also forgave myself—for my crazy behavior, for doing something I never would have thought I was capable of.
Then I got on with my life. Work and school and “regular” modeling gigs got me back in the swing of things. But, just as I was settling in and feeling like things were back to “normal,” the rug was pulled out from underneath m
e. Typical.
Only it wasn’t as bad as I make it sound.
Greg called me a few months later for another shoot. It was the middle of summer—hot and dry, the perfect time for a shoot in one’s underwear, provided the AC wasn’t cranked up so high inside his studio that it felt like winter anyway. I agreed to the shoot but made up my mind that I would tell him before signing the contract that my bra was staying on. My integrity and my heart couldn’t afford another episode like last time. I knew, looking back, that having my bra off wasn’t the only thing playing into what had happened that day. It was more the fact that I’d found Shane irresistibly attractive…and the feeling had been mutual.
Having my bra off hadn’t helped, though…and if I didn’t put my foot down now, I could see Greg asking for more. After all, I hadn’t been posing for him for that long in the grand scheme of things. For all I knew, this was how he operated—slowly getting his models to do more and more compromising things for the sake of “art” and reaping the benefits. It didn’t matter that he’d paid me more; it wasn’t something I wanted to get in the habit of doing. Last time, my nipples had been hidden from the camera; would Greg ask for more next time?
That was why I had to draw the line. If he wanted me as a model, he would do it.
But he beat me to instigating that conversation. After I arrived in his lobby, twenty minutes early so I’d have plenty of time to chat, he said, “Ivy, I sensed that things were pretty strained by the end of the shoot, so I think—for now, anyway—I’m going to have you leave your underwear on.”
“I’m glad you brought that up, Greg. I think that needs to be a permanent rule for me. It’s out of my comfort zone.” He nodded but I wanted to make it perfectly clear. “If that’s the kind of model you need, I’m going to have to bow out.”
He looked a little sheepish. “I don’t know that I need that kind of model…but we got some great shots last time, shots that couldn’t have happened without your help. So thanks.” We started walking back into the studio area. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but Shane’s star is on the rise.”
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