No Reservations
Page 33
Lorraine let her calves hang idle over the side of the counter as Griffin pulled her even closer, the velvety head of his cock finding its position at the center of her dewy opening and pushing effortless in, a heaving pressure that was slow and sure. Lorraine bit her lower lip, eyes rolling back to savor the feeling of his entry, always a special moment in any of their lovemaking sessions. Because, while Griffin could service Lorraine for hours, in every conceivable position and many that Lorraine had never conceived of, those moments were endless, uncountable. But, that moment of his first insertion was special. A fraction of an instant that was like no other, the feeling of her tight, tingling pussy before he worked her into a sea of sexual oblivion, she almost felt like a virgin all over again. Griffin had been the one to claim that precious prize, and every time he entered her it was like he was deflowering her all over again.
“Because I love you so much,” Griffin went on, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, “and you love me, like two people have never loved each other before.” His hot breath sending a shiver down her spine.
“No, nobody … ever … ” she moaned in utter pleasure.
Griffin went in deeper, but still withheld most of his length. He pulled Lorraine to the very edge of the counter, fucking her with a steady, mid-tempo pace, sliding in that first third of his massive member against her tight pink tissues, stirring up and awakening every nerve ending. Lorraine clamped down with all her strength, muscles of her thighs and calves tightening to lend to the effort. Griffin was huge, and Lorraine was quickly overwhelmed by his size. There was no need to exert herself, she knew; Griffin would take care of everything.
But, that was no longer enough. Lorraine wasn't a virgin librarian anymore, and she wanted to give every bit as much as she wanted to take. And she’d learned from the master how to do both equally well.
There was no time for her to master Griffin sitting on that countertop, ass sliding back and forth, while he steered her hips, thrusting deeper into her and quickening his pace to send bursts of electric pleasure coursing through her body.
“Nobody can come between us,” Griffin said, pumping even faster. “No matter what, baby, no matter who comes at us.”
“No, no matter who … ” Lorraine said unwavering.
“They can’t separate us, baby, it’s impossible. You know why?” Lorraine dipped her head forward, but didn’t answer. “You know why?” he repeated.
“Tell me, baby, God please tell me … ” She moaned with sheer delight.
Griffin pulled her even closer, edging himself closer to her to keep her from falling off the counter. Lorraine wrapped her legs around Griffin’s naked waist. But, Griffin was too long, and he needed to plunge deeper into her, filling her entirely, hips threatening to split as she pulled him even deeper, enveloping her with the pangs of painful pleasure. Deeper, harder, Lorraine bucked her hips violently, the effect on Griffin's body telling her he enjoyed it as much as she did. But, it was still not enough. Push and pump and squeeze and buck, more, faster, harder; it would never be enough.
“Because we’re one person, Lorraine, one soul, one thing, one perfect, living, breathing love creature that nobody can touch, baby, nobody!” he blurted out with his deep sexy voice, raw and masculine.
“No, nobody … ” she whispered.
Their voices sent vibrations through Lorraine’s body and soul, his voice echoing in her heart, filling her soul with his protective authority, his certainty and assuredness, like there was nothing he couldn't do and nothing he wouldn't do for her. His voice turned her on as much as anything, making every stroke more powerful and potent, his words fucking her brain the way his cock was pounding her pussy; forceful, powerful, but still tender, caring, giving, dizzying in their combined effect.
“Nobody can come anywhere near us, baby, nowhere near!” He growled.
“No, nowhere near us, nowhere … ”
“One body, one soul, one heart.”
“Yes, Griffin, yes!” she cried out.
Griffin put her hand on his chest, heaving as he panted. “Feel my heart, baby, feel it beating just for you.” Lorraine pressed her palm flat against his sculpted, muscular pecs, his heart thumping hard behind it.
“I feel it.”
“Now feel your own, Lorraine, feel your heart beat.” Lorraine closed her eyes, her inner ear finding her heartbeat and focusing in, bringing it to the fore of her brain. She could feel her own heartbeat and Griffin’s, discordant, out of sync.
“Concentrate, Lorraine,” Griffin said, as if he two were able to hear and feel both of their heartbeats and he detected their off-kilter rhythms. “Slow it down, baby, slow it down,” he said soothingly. Lorraine recognized that somehow he was right, her heart was beating just a bit faster than Griffin’s. Lorraine breathed a bit slower even as Griffin drilled into her, but he slowed his tempo, too, guiding her heart with his cock, lining up the two of them to be in perfect sync.
“That’s it, Lorraine,” Griffin said, “you’ve got it, just a bit slower … slower … ” Griffin’s strokes slowed down just a bit, immeasurable. The thudding behind his chest, lining up exactly with the steady pumping of her own heart, both sounds combining into one thrilling heartbeat.
Both bodies moving rhythmically in sync, pumping faster. His steady increase in speed keeping pace with the quickening pace of their mutual heartbeat, in and out, pumping and thumping in perfect rhythm, faster and faster .
That singular rhythm was throbbing in her hips, the flat countertop hard beneath her, hands reaching out for some support.
Her crotch was clenching in the same rhythm, her whole body in sync with Griffin’s. And when her orgasm began to stir, Lorraine didn’t even fight it. Twisting inside her like a tornado, swift and long, swirling in the distance but closing down on her fast.
With the talking, shaking and the pumping, that tornado within swept her up, its power undeniable. Lorraine’s legs shook, a lump rising up in her throat and falling out as a scream, and that stretched into a long, loud moan. Lorraine leaned back, hips sliding forward, shaking and trembling and fucking and cumming, hands slipping against the slick countertop. But Griffin’s hands were firm on her hips, and Lorraine felt herself swirling and tumbling into a cum-flooded delirium. She knew that Griffin was there to take care of her, to guide her through another marathon stretch of passion and lust, and for every minute of her life thereafter.
Chapter 6
The popular paparazzi broadcast TMZ had zeroed in on the story of Lorraine and Griffin and their campaign to save the public library system just over three years earlier. When they were nearly killed at the rally, TMZ and its crew of writers were jabbering before a white wipe board and the show’s producer and de-facto host. The show had clung to their romantic epic ever since.
One eager young writer / reporter said, “Don’t forget, this is the guy we hailed as a conquering hero just a few years ago.”
The host said, “The narrative’s changed.”
A second reporter, a chubby Asian male, said, “Exactly. Now that he’s being sued, it’s obviously time to take a second look at this guy. That was a pretty vicious beating back in Denver. We’ve all seen the phone videos, he did not need to break that guy’s arm.”
The host wrote unreasonable force on the white board.
“He was showing off for that librarian,” the reporter said.
The host repeated, “That librarian? Lorraine Phoenix is the most famous librarian in modern history. She could run for mayor of New York if she were a bit older, probably will someday … and I’ll bet she wins, too.”
“She’s totally hot,” a younger reporter, a slim male said, sharing a high-five with the chubby Asian next to him.
One of the female paparazzo said, “Then he hides behind her when that shooter struck. Some hero.”
The host shook his head, black hair short and wavy. “No, that’s not fair. She threw herself in front of him, that’s not on him.”
“That’s what s
ome people think,” another reporter offered.
“And then that Central Park shooting? I mean, c’mon, how many shootouts can these two wind up in before we start asking questions?”
“Yeah,” another volunteered, “thank God this lawsuit’s bringing all this to light.”
The host, an attorney, said, “All this to light? This has all been on our show over the past four years. Ease up on the medical pot before work, eh?” Everybody in the room chuckled.
Lorraine and Griffin watched from their bedroom, laying in bed. Lorraine curled up against Griffin for warmth and for support, to give it and to get some in return, too.
“Seriously, though,” the slender man said. “She was in on both those shootouts, too, and in Central Park she was carrying a handgun and was blasting away into a crowd. It’s amazing she didn’t hurt anybody.”
“That guard was killed,” another reporter said.
“Not by her hand,” the host cautioned them. “Watch those allegations, you guys.”
“Well,” another said, “I’ve read on the internet that she was involved in clandestine deals to push her PEEK program through — ”
“It’s PEEC,” the host said, correctly pronouncing it like peace. “Phoenix Enterprises Educational Centers, the PEEC program.”
“Right, well, it wasn't very PEECful that day, it resulted in the shootout.”
“Plausible deniability,” the host said, “that’s more like it. So what do we think? Is this Charles and Diana with muscle, or Bonnie and Clyde with money?”
Lorraine and Griffin shared a worried sigh. “Our corporate partners aren’t going to like this.”
“No potential juror will either. I don’t think we have a hope in hell of getting a fair trial now.”
After a quiet dinner, Ashe and Kayla spent some time playing on the living room floor before bed. Ashe was her pet unicorn and Kayla a warrior princess of some sort, reigning over a peaceful kingdom just turbulent enough to provide her three-year-old imagination with enough fuel to keep her fantasies alive.
Ashe was getting older, at fourteen he very nearly resembled a grown man, if quite a bit more spindly and smooth-faced. And for all his advancing maturity, a desire to find himself as a mature adult, he was never above the horse whinnies, rising up on his knees to pedal his arms like equine forelegs.
Kayla was quite serious in her instructions, leading Ashe further into their imagined forest, forever on the hunt for one enchanted amulet or another.
Lorraine and Griffin sat at the dining room table, sharing a quiet smile, his hand cupping hers. They glanced at one another, then back at their children, happiness swelling around them like a protective shield. The chaos of the outside world seemed locked out, their shelter impervious to its menace and venom.
“He's such a good brother to her,” Lorraine said. “You’re such a good father to him, and to Kayla.”
Griffin smiled. “No, Lorraine, it’s not me. Before you came into our lives, Ashe was … he was lost, I couldn't reach him. It took you to bring him out of his shell, and you couldn’t have done it without coming out of your own shell.”
“Which I did, thanks to you.” She said with a deep appreciation and warmness.
“An investment that’s paid off in spectacular fashion.” They shared a chuckle and a kiss, the kids playing in the other room, no need for guidance or protection. Ashe was learning how to provide that, just as he’d learned to accept it.
It was the cycle of life, the passing along of lessons and wisdom from one generation to another. But Lorraine had never known with such certainty and clarity until that moment just how gratifying it was, how vital it was, to pass that wisdom along, to teach those lessons, while it was still possible, while the children were still young enough to absorb their effects.
“You think she’ll be a storyteller, too?”
Griffin said, “Look at her, already role-playing with the best of them.”
Lorraine couldn’t help but smile. “He really is the best of them.”
Griffin looked at Lorraine, his eyes locking on hers, their faces nearing for a loving kiss. “Among the best,” he said just before their lips met, gently pressing, tongues commingling in a moist, loving embrace.
Lorraine walked around the long conference table, setting a manilla folder down in front of every member. The smells of their combined perfumes and colognes were overbearing, she could feel the beginning of a headache, but the looks on their faces more than made up for it. They shared high brows, stunned and silent little mouths, heads either jutting back in surprise or leaning forward in morbid curiosity. They looked at each other, a lot of glares falling to Treena, who could only hope her innocence was clear in her round eyes, small mouth dipping, a subtle shake of her head.
“This is my proposal for a different approach to the budget problem,” Lorraine said with a little smile as she set a folder down in front of Casper Newkirk at the head of the table. He looked at her, one brow raised, the other pressing down over one of his beady eyes. “I thought instead of cutting faculty, losing all those skilled teachers, worthwhile people who work hard and need those incomes, we’d take a look at increasing our funding.”
Casper said, “There is no more money, Mrs. Phoenix, at least not from the state government. And if you think the Fed will pony up, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“No, Casper, I know enough not to expect that.” She surmised.
Treena said, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all manage to pillow-talk our husbands into donating a huge bundle of cash? Are we going to have a rock concert, too? I kind of like Billy Joel, if your husband could put in a call or something.”
Lorraine stared Treena down as the others chuckled or glanced around the table.
Lorraine said, “My family’s not donating a penny, neither is our company.”
Casper said, “There’s always something to be said for leading by example. And you did work wonders for the library system.”
“I think this calls for something else,” Lorraine said as they began opening their files and glancing at the few pages included in each one.
Chapter 7
Lorraine tried to disguise the pride in her little half-smile, but she didn’t try too hard. The faces of the other office managers like herself looking up at her only added fuel to Lorraine's fire. “As you can all read for yourselves, what I suggest is a new tax, specifically on pro sports teams. And this tax goes directly to pay for the public schools.”
Casper sighed and immediately closed his file. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I most certainly am not,” Lorraine said cheerfully, beginning a slow pace around the conference table. “The big leagues need high school sports, let them pay for it! The numbers are all there: North American pro ball brings in billions of dollars a year for their teams, billions. So let them all pay a small tax, say … two percent. That’s tens of millions of dollars a year, pouring right into our school system.”
Casper shook his head. “You don’t understand, Mrs. Phoenix. Not every pro athlete makes that kind of big money — ”
“It’s a percent, Casper. The more they make, the more they pay. And that goes for merchandise, food, parking, half-time shows; everybody pays the same percentage across the board. Two percent won't break anybody, and it could completely turn around our public schools.”
Silence swelled in the room, a bubble that would burst with terrible effect.
Casper smiled. “It’s an intriguing idea, Mrs. Phoenix, truly. And we’re lucky to have such a … a creative thinker in the department. But unfortunately, we don’t have the capacity or authority to levy any new taxes on anyone. You do make a good point though, our civics classes are obviously lacking.”
The others laughed, but Lorraine didn’t lose her cool.
“You’re quite right, Casper, of course. But, if you’d actually bothered to read my proposal, you’d see that it’s a petition. If we can get every member of the staff or faculty of every school,
just in New York, we’ll have enough signatures to bring the matter to the President of the United States. We might not have the authority, but the White House has all kinds of power, and they could push it through if they believed in it. And if there are enough signatures, they will believe in it.”
“Open your eyes, Mrs. Phoenix,” Casper rebuked, the others keeping their heads down, peering up from under their brows. “You have no idea the powers you’re dealing with! This is pro sports, one of the most powerful lobbies in the nation. They’d never let any President pass such a tax, they’d use every arrow in their quiver to keep it from happening. It’s just not in the cards.”
“No?” She asked.
“No.” He said bluntly.
“Then you’re refusing to sign?” Lorraine said, feeling the disappointment begin to bubble up inside her.
“I am,” Casper said, eyes scanning the room, speaking to them as much as to Lorraine. “This department will not sanction such a thing. Now go back and cut ten percent of the staff and faculty as you were instructed to do, or take your leave of our department and leave us to our work.”
Lorraine stood there, all eyes on her, especially those of the department head. Lorraine said only, “We’ll see,” before stepping out of the conference room, slamming the door behind her.
Griffin’s mirth was easy to see, shaking his head as he strode around the living room, the huge room lit up by the natural sunlight and the endless blue sky. Griffin crossed to the wet bar and pulling a bottle of Champagne from one of three special mini-fridges.
“Grif, isn't it a little early?”
“Normally it would be,” Griffin said. “But frankly, we need a reason to celebrate. And if thinking about those goons … I wish I’d had the chance to meet ‘em so I could picture it, them glaring at you and you just, well, just being you, which I know drives them absolutely up a wall … if that isn’t reason to celebrate, among other things, I don’t know what is.”