The Cougar Book

by Jolie Du Prè

  I froze, unable to move an inch in my chair. I expected him to just run off, but he didn’t. He just kept staring, his eyes fixed on mine. A deep flush rose up in my face. His smile surprised me, as did his apprising gaze. His hand reached out and touched the window, just for a second. His hand truly was large, his fingertips leaving smudges on the thick glass. It felt like he was touching me, a jolt of electricity shot through me. He turned and ran away, returning to his buddies and their game of catch. Nothing had happened, but it felt as real as anything ever did. Turning away from the window, I tried to calm down. But, my breath was ragged and quick. I could feel a rush of moisture between my legs. My reaction seemed out of proportion, somehow odd. I looked at my clock. It was almost lunch time again. I cast one last glance out the window, before heading to the break room. Somehow a boring sandwich seemed like just what I needed.

  The rest of the week went by without incident, my boy too distracted by playing to give me another glance. It didn’t stop me from peeking and spending time watching the athletic display of cute young men. I secretly wished for another glance, another flash of a smile through my portal to brighten my day. But, it was all business on the other side of the glass. After all, the season was fast approaching.

  I worked late the next week to try and catch up on all the work I’d been shirking. By Friday, I was almost completely caught up, but it was after five when I finally finished the last stack of forms for the next semester. My file cabinet drawer slammed shut, when I heard the glass shatter. The shards were all over the floor, a dirty baseball coming to rest in the corner. Voices and footsteps were in panic outside, but when I went to the window, I didn’t see anyone. My feet were on top of pieces of glass large and small. There was a dust pan in the break room, but I just stood stunned, looking around the damage in my office. I’d have to call the maintenance department to board up my window. So much for my decent view.

  I tiptoed over the glass. As soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, there was a knock on the other side. I pulled the door open tentatively and saw him standing there. Derek, my dream boy, was standing outside my office, his baseball glove still in his hand. My mouth was open, and my heart was in a skipping panic.

  “Hi. I’m sorry about the window. It was totally my fault. The ball just got away from me.”

  I stood helpless as he stepped past me into my office. Surveying the damage, he stooped to pick up the ball that was in the corner. He tossed it repeatedly into his glove, looking down at me from across the room.

  “We were just goofing around. Dave told me not to throw it so hard.”

  He kept talking, but I was barely listening. It didn’t seem real, to have him right in front of me. We had been close that day at the window, but the glass stood between us. I knew I should say something, but words failed me.

  “Here. Let me help you clean this up.”

  He set his baseball glove on my desk and stooped down to pick up glass.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  My voice sounded weird, like it belonged to someone else. He looked up at me, his hand full of sharp pieces of my beloved window. He stood up pausing to deposit the trash into the metal can next to my desk.

  “It’s the least I can do after being so clumsy.”

  “That’s funny. You don’t strike me as the clumsy type.”

  My boldness had returned after my heart finally got itself under control. I stared into his eyes, which were the palest blue I had ever seen. His smile returned, a sly look in his eyes told me I was on to something.

  “Okay. I admit it. It wasn’t so much of an accident.”

  “Then, why did you break my window?”

  “I’ve seen you staring at me, at us, for the last few weeks. After I got a closer look, I knew I needed to meet you. Sandy.”

  He surprised me when he said my name out loud. He took two steps closer to me, his large hands wringing together in apparent nervousness.

  “There are easier ways to meet me. All you had to do was make an appointment.”

  “It’s not an appointment I want.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m pretty sure I want the same thing you do. You’ve been paying pretty close attention to me out that window. Unless you are just a really big baseball fan.”

  His hand touched my shoulder, the heat of the contact making my mouth fall open. It had more of an effect than it should have. My brain was screaming for me to be reasonable, but my body was ignoring the protest.

  “I love baseball.”

  “Sure you do.”

  Before I could say another word, his lips fell to mine. His fingers reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of my neck. His arm curled around my back, pulling me into a deep embrace. His mouth was softer than I ever imagined. The eagerness of his youth was evident, a refreshing change from the last indifferent mouth I had kissed. I was more surprised by the hand on my ass, squeezing gently as he pulled me closer still. I could barely breathe when he let go of my mouth, his smile bigger than I had ever seen it before.

  “I have to admit when I first saw you watching me, I was a little freaked out.”

  “So, what changed?”

  “When I looked in your window that day, I thought you were one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.”

  “Come on. Does that line work on the girls at the bar?”

  “No, because it’s not a line. It’s true. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard that before?”

  His mouth on my neck distracted me from answering. I had to admit he was persistent. And, I liked it. I also liked his teeth scraping against my skin, the sucking pull of his mouth no doubt leaving a mark. He pushed me to sit on the edge of my desk, his legs pushing my thighs apart.

  “No. I’ve never heard that before.”

  “Well, now you have. You are beautiful, Sandy.”

  Despite my better judgment and my cynicism, I swooned a little at his earnest appreciation. He really was charming.

  “Derek, you are too cute.”

  “I’m more than just a cute kid, you know.”

  His hands yanked my hips forward on the desk before moving to my belt. For a moment, I panicked, suddenly unsure of what I was doing. His fingered fumbled slightly on the button of my pants, the zipper easing down slowly as he assaulted my mouth with another deep kiss. His long fingers slid into my panties, a moan escaping my lips when I felt his fingers touch my clit. I was wetter than I thought, his skin slipping easily over my swollen pussy lips. He pushed further, a single finger slipping inside me as his tongue moved deeper into my mouth. I gripped his shoulders for dear life, my hips moving without thought. I whimpered when his hands left me, leaning forward to nibble his lips as he dropped to his knees in front of me. Pulling my pants down my legs, I let myself be exposed.

  “Come closer. I want to see you.”

  I couldn’t help but moan out loud at his words. No one had ever asked to see me before, and the mere thought of it turned me on. I moved my hips to the edge of the desk, spreading my thighs wide for Derek. I waited for him to touch me, to feel his fingers on my cunt again. But, instead I saw him just staring, his eyes shining as he smiled. Finally, I felt a finger drag over my slit, the pressure barely parting my swollen lips. I propped myself on my elbows to watch his face, to read his expressions as he moved. His thumbs pushed my pussy lips open, revealing my slick hole and hard clit to his hungry gaze. I watched in awe as his face disappeared between my thighs, his tongue meeting my clit for the first time. I sighed as I lay back, letting my head hang over the other side of my desk.

  I expected him to be timid or clumsy, but he was neither. His tongue moved over me slowly, but he was confident in all his movements. My eyes shut tight when I felt two fingers slid inside my pussy, the impossibly long digits twisting and thrusting while his tongue tortured me. It was beyond me to be quiet, and my moans filled the small room. Again, his enthusiasm overwhelmed me, his hand gripping my thigh as he moaned with every sweep o
f his hot tongue. I felt a familiar tremble run through me as I got closer and closer to coming.

  He pulled his mouth back, hurrying to shuck his clothes off. I stared up at him, his well-muscled chest and stomach giving me more of a show than I had ever gotten out the window. But, when my eyes dropped to his hard cock, I gasped. He smiled proudly at my reaction; one I was sure he had never gotten tired of. I got off the desk, and stood in front of him, pulling my own shirt and bra off as I went. It was my turn to drop to my knees and place my face right in front of his young, hard cock. I marveled at it, admiring its every detail. The thick drop of liquid at the tip begged to be licked away, and I obliged. His ragged breathing gave away his nerves, despite his calm façade. I let my tongue swirl over the head of his cock. It felt thick and silky soft, his salty-sweet taste filling my mouth. I sucked him gently into my throat, easing down slowly. His hands fisted my hair, his hips pushing forward, trying to urge me on. Trying to keep us both on the edge, I teased him, not giving him too much too soon,

  “You’re killing me, Sandy.”

  I just smiled before devouring him fully, my nose touching his flat belly. But, my reward didn’t last long. I pulled back, rubbing my lips against his weeping head, avoiding his advances.

  “Please, I can’t take much more.”

  “You need to be punished for breaking my window. Or would you rather I report you to the school?”

  “No. We can handle this your way.”

  I went back to what I was doing, but my own desperation was outweighing my need to exact my revenge. After a few more deep thrusts of his cock in my throat, I stood up. His mouth was immediately on mine, kissing me frantically as I felt his erection poke my belly. I yelped as he turned me around, pressing my hands into my desk with his big palms. I got one hand free to fumble through my desk drawer where I found the condoms Debra had stashed there as a joke for my birthday. Handing one back to him, I waited as he tore open the packet with his teeth. His sheathed cock nudged at my dripping, wet pussy, trying to find its way inside. Finally, I reached under my body to guide him with my steady hand.

  “Oh, fuck. God, you’re hot.”

  His words pierced me as hard as his cock did, splitting open my desire that had been dormant for too long. His thrusts were erratic, the undisciplined timing of a young, horny man. I didn’t care. I knew neither of us would last long. His fingers tripped over my clit, rubbing an unsteady beat while he drove into me. He leaned into my back, his huge body covering me. I put my own hand over his, focusing the pressure on my clit. Rutting back against him, I felt my orgasm ready to explode inside me. Hollering out, I rode the waves of my pleasure, my pussy clamping down on Derek as he continued to pound into me. His own climax soon followed, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he stuttered out unintelligible words.

  He body lay heavy on top of me, our sweat mixing together as we panted in silence. He withdrew from my body, the condom tossed into the trash. I heard him dressing behind me, as I finally regained the ability to move. His shorts slid up his narrow hips, his chest flushed and wet. I couldn’t resist reaching out and touching him. He pulled me close, our lips meeting gently.

  “You’re amazing, Sandy.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself, Derek.”

  “So, am I off the hook with the window?”

  “I don’t know. I might need more time to think about it.”

  “I’m sure if you let me, I can make it up to you.”

  He nuzzled my neck as I pulled up my pants, my thighs still trembling slightly from my orgasm. Derek really was a good kid; too good to only have once.

  “I have no doubt, Derek.”

  After we dressed, he helped me clean up the rest of the glass. He picked up his baseball glove, but hesitated before he walked out. His face was serious as his grabbed me, kissing me hard.

  “What was that for?”

  “I don’t know. Just because.”

  God, he was so damn cute. He took the baseball that had cracked my window and handed it to me. I rolled it between my hands, looking up into his sparkling blue eyes. His smile was enough to drive me mad.

  “Thanks, Derek. For everything.”

  “No problem. I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

  “Yeah. You know where to find me.”

  He walked out, his cleats echoing off the linoleum floor. I picked up the phone and called the maintenance department. I needed my window, after all.

  Labeled

  Tara S. Nichols

  Toni stood outside the front door of the little tattoo parlour just staring at the sign. She’d visited the shop on a whim once before with her friends, intending to break free of the dull, safe life she’d built for herself by acquiring a tattoo, but nothing could have prepared her for the impact the young stud managing the tattoo parlour had on her. A sex god wielding a tattoo needle, Sawyer was a fantasy come true. After just one, brief consultation he’d broken through her polished exterior, seen through the practiced business spiel she reserved for all serving staff, and distracted her with his rugged good looks. With one flash of his radiant smile Toni had become a jabbering fool, blurting and stumbling all over the place, offering up more information than necessary like a sinner in a confessional. He’d never asked why a successful, forty-three-year-old, uptown business woman was in his disreputable shop looking to mar her perfectly preserved body, but she told him anyway, and then promptly ran away.

  Now she’d returned, and she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted her motives. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, she knew full well she was there to pick up a man rather than a tattoo. It was possible she’d read his body language wrong, or had fallen for the oldest trick in the book, but Sawyer had given her all the right signals that the feeling was mutual. She glanced at the name on the business card she held between her fingers and smiled, suddenly certain her motive’s name was Sawyer. Now only the door separated her from going after the man of her dreams, or remaining an unadventurous woman, living a stifled life.

  She took a deep breath before entering. A little bell above the door chimed announcing her presence and a deep, male voice from the recesses of the store called out, “I’ll be right with you.”

  Gathering her courage, she inched her way into a claustrophobic’s nightmare, a small room crammed full of mismatched furniture and magazines, with dark red walls that seemed to close in from every direction. Somehow, she’d thought she’d be better prepared for the culture shock on her second trip in, but compared to her well-organized life; it was a lot to get used to.

  Looking around, she could see through a gap in the heavy velvet curtain that served as a door to the room in the back. A client sat in an old, red, leather and chrome barber chair, with her fingers gripping the armrests. Sawyer stood by the girl, a metal ear-piercing gun in his hand, poised to shoot a tiny rod through the girl’s ear lobe.

  “You’ll feel a slight pinch,” he said, followed closely by a mechanical snap. The client stifled a yelp and Toni’s stomach lurched. If she went through with the tattoo, she was in for much more pain than that. Another snap came and Toni jumped. A smart person would just leave, but before she could, the girl came out with a shiny new stud in each red ear lobe, followed closely by Sawyer.

  Dressed in tight, black jeans and a loose, black T, the young man who’d haunted her dreams every night since she’d hastily departed that first time, stepped out into the main room, and her body immediately responded to him. Her nipples beaded into tight points and a surge of heat rushed to her cheeks. His face brightened upon seeing her, sending her hopes spiralling off in an inconceivable manner before she reasserted herself and remembered why she’d returned. A tattoo. At least that’s what she was going to tell him.

  Her courage faltered, thinking about it. What did it matter? He couldn’t be a day over thirty and certainly not interested in an old gal like her. So why was she worried about the visible grey in her ash-blonde hair and wondering if the silk scarf around her neck made her lo
ok dowdy? She told herself he was nothing more than an overgrown punk, with his silver-studded tongue and more holes in his ears than she’d ever had, but she couldn’t deny he had sex appeal down pat.

  A day’s worth of growth darkened his cheeks and she could barely make out his eyes for all his dark hair hanging over them. The lack of product in his shaggy, black hair told her he wasn’t vain or put on, yet the tattoos covering his ropey forearms said appearances mattered on a more personal level.

  With the red-eared girl rung through and out the door, he turned his full attention on her. She felt the intensity of his gaze all the way down to her toes. Even her panties were damp.

  “Has anyone ever told you how much you look like Michelle Pfeiffer?” His question threw her off guard and she scrambled to answer.

  “Yes, actually.”

  He smiled, pleased. “Well then, what can I help you with?”

  “A tattoo,” she said with a glance to the door. There was still time to excuse herself and far better ways to pick up a man. She didn’t have to actually go through with it.

  He studied her for a moment. “Oh, yes. The butterfly, right?”

  Hearing him say it out loud made her wince. “God, it sounds pathetic.”

  “What?” He shrugged. “Many people get a butterfly.” Then he hesitated, his brow knitted together as he regarded her. “But maybe you’re looking for something a little more original? Something that speaks to you on a personal level?”

  She took a step back and glanced to the door again. “I don’t know.” She edged her way toward it, but stopped when he came around the counter to stand next to her. He never took his eyes off of her, and she wondered if he was seeing her as a woman or a blank canvas.