Stronger

by Janet Nissenson

  In reply, she slid her arms up and around his neck, pulling his head down to meet her very eager kiss. Her small tongue slipped between his lips, and Dante groaned as he began to kiss her back. Her boobs were crushed up against his chest, and his cock immediately hardened at the feel of her hard little nipples poking into his hot skin. And when her hand began to stroke his dick persuasively through his rapidly tightening jeans, he gave up any previous thoughts he might have had of resisting her.

  “Let me,” she whispered against his ear, rising up on tiptoe to do so. “Let me take care of you tonight, Dante.”

  “Honey, no. You don’t have to do that - ah, fuck!”

  The protest he’d been about to make was quickly abandoned as Cara dropped to her knees in front of him, deftly unzipping his pants and drawing his throbbing dick into her hands. Her former inexperience with oral sex was definitely a thing of the past now, and she was all too eager to demonstrate her newfound expertise.

  “So fucking good,” he hissed, his hands grasping thick strands of her hair as she licked up and down the length of his cock. That sweet little tongue of hers lapped up the thick, pearly beads of pre-cum that had gathered around the tip, just before sucking the broad head between her lips.

  She pleasured him unselfishly, sensing his need for her. Her hand slid up and down his cock, stroking him in the slow, arousing way that he’d taught her. At the same time, her mouth continued to work its magic, sucking as much of him down her throat as she could accommodate. Dante shoved his fingers into her hair, holding her head still as he fucked that sweet, hot mouth of hers, the little moans she made as he did so only making him harder and more desperate for release. She loved doing this to him as much as he enjoyed being on the receiving end, adored being able to give him this much pleasure.

  She gave his swollen balls a gentle squeeze, but that light touch was all he needed to come long and hard, spilling himself into her mouth gluttonously. And because it felt so damned good, because the pleasure she gave him was like nothing he’d ever felt before, he kept thrusting his still-erect cock between her lips for long seconds after he was empty.

  Cara was nearly gasping for breath as she finally let his penis slip out of her mouth, her eyes dark with passion as she stared up at him. Tenderly, he ran a finger over her lush, trembling lips, his thumb whisking away a drop of his semen that still clung to the corner of her mouth.

  Without a word, he pulled her to her feet, then just as quickly tumbled them onto the detested futon. He had her naked in less than thirty seconds, her breasts tumbling free from her bra into his waiting hands. He licked her nipples, cupped her breasts, caressed her belly and thighs and ass, arousing her until she was bucking up off the mattress like a wild thing, begging him to please, please let her come. And when he finally gave her what she wanted - slipping two fingers deep inside of her core where she was so wet and hot that all he could think about was sinking his cock inside of that delicious little pussy and staying put for a good long while - Cara sobbed in pleasure, calling out his name over and over again, her legs thrashing uncontrollably as she found her sweet release.

  She was dazed and dreamy eyed afterwards, watching as he undressed - a feat he hadn’t quite been able to accomplish earlier. Cara’s fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead as his body covered hers a moment later, and she smiled up at him teasingly.

  “Hate to break the news,” she whispered a little unsteadily, “but you’re really, really sweaty now.”

  Dante threw back his admittedly drenched head and laughed. “It was worth it,” he murmured, his hands spreading her thighs apart. “Though I’m definitely buying you an electric fan for this place. And that is not up for debate. Got it?”

  She nodded obediently, then gasped as he entered her body with one deep, hard thrust.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I can’t explain it, Mir. Not exactly. All I know is that I’ve got a really bad feeling the end is in sight. No, it’s nothing he’s said or done. It’s just that he’s been really moody lately, quiet. Yes, I’ve asked him what’s wrong, and he just says it’s work related, that he’s been really busy, yada yada yada. And last weekend he came this close to refusing sex. No, we wound up screwing like rabbits, but only after I opened with a BJ. No, he’s never not wanted sex before. Oh, God, he’s getting ready to break up with me, isn’t he?” wailed Cara.

  Mirai heaved a sigh of mingled irritation and frustration. “Are you finished with the babbling for a minute or two?” she asked on the other end of the line. “Because if you don’t get a grip on yourself, I’m going to come over there and do it for you. Calm down, okay?”

  But following her BFF’s advice was easier said than done, especially since Cara had been worrying and imagining the worst ever since last Saturday night. It was Thursday now, and she’d just walked in the door of her apartment less than ten minutes ago after her evening class. And even though she was exhausted as usual by the end of the day, she badly needed to hear her friend’s reassuring voice.

  Since Dante had left her apartment on Saturday, she hadn’t heard a word from him. That in itself was hardly unusual, given his general lack of communication in between their Friday night dates. And ever since one of her short-lived college boyfriends had called her an insecure, needy pest for texting and calling him too often, Cara had been scrupulously careful not to repeat her actions - even though in her opinion she really hadn’t contacted the jerk as frequently as he’d claimed. With Dante in particular, she’d sensed he wouldn’t appreciate receiving messages from her on a regular basis, so she only got in touch with him when it was absolutely necessary.

  But she’d been sorely tempted every single day this past week to call him or send him a quick text just to see if everything was okay. It wasn’t like him at all to be as quiet and moody as he’d been last weekend, and Cara was skeptical that work related issues were really to blame. And maybe it was just her various insecurities - God knew she had too many of those to count! - or her tendency to overreact at times, but she had this horrible, sinking feeling that Dante was growing bored with her, and was ready to move on. He’d warned her, after all, from the very beginning of their relationship, that he couldn’t make her any promises or guarantees about how long this would last between them.

  “I’ve been trying to stay calm for the last five days,” she told Mirai now. “But nothing’s working. You know, come to think of it, Dante’s been a little off ever since he went to that wedding a few weeks ago - moody, uncommunicative, like he’s got something big on his mind.”

  “How’s the sex life been?” inquired Mirai, never one to shy away from asking personal questions.

  “Well, this is Dante we’re talking about, after all, so of course any sort of sex is fantastic,” replied Cara. “I mean, he could just sort of lay there and let me do all the work and I’d still get off every single time. But one thing I have noticed the last few times he’s been over - now, this is going to sound really greedy or like I’m some sort of nympho or something - but we only do it one time.”

  “Uh, and how many times do you usually - as you so succinctly put it - do it?” asked Mirai, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “At least twice. Usually three. And there were a few times when he was really horny and I think I counted four. And that doesn’t count the extra times he gets me off - you know, with his hand or his mouth. Did I ever mention that he’s really, really good at oral?” sighed Cara, a little mortified to realize she was getting wet just thinking about Dante going down on her.

  Mirai made a sound that resembled a snarl. “Yes, damn you, you have definitely mentioned it! Usually right after I had another dud of a date who could barely keep it up long enough to finish the job. Do you know how difficult it is to find a guy who really knows his way around a girl’s vajayjay? So stop rubbing it in, okay? And you were right the first time - you do sound like a greedy, selfish twat for expecting more than one fantastic orgasm at a t
ime. Some of us have gone without one of those elusive O’s for longer than they care to admit.”

  Cara chuckled in spite of herself, and was glad she’d taken a few extra minutes to call up the best friend who could always make her smile and feel better no matter what the circumstances.

  “Look, stop overthinking everything for once in your life, okay?” said Mirai soothingly. “And for God’s sake, be grateful that you’ve at least got a sex life! Now get some sleep. Don’t you have to wake up at some ungodly hour of the morning?”

  But despite the lateness of the hour, Cara wasn’t able to fall asleep easily that night. And in spite of Mirai’s so-called pep talk, she didn’t feel a whole lot better about the current state of her relationship with Dante. If one could actually call what they had a relationship, that is. For more than four months now, nothing had really changed, and it certainly hadn’t moved forward. She would wait for him in the lobby of his office building each Friday after work, despite her repeated offers to meet him up in his office. Cara just assumed he didn’t want his co-workers, especially his business partner Howie, to see the two of them together. Just like she had yet to meet any of his friends or family members.

  They would have dinner out, always at a place in an outlying neighborhood or even slightly out of the city limits. Last Friday, for example, he’d taken her to a seafood restaurant in Half Moon Bay, a small coastal town about thirty miles south of San Francisco. The fact that the food had been delicious, and the ocean view breathtaking hadn’t helped to diminish her growing dismay that he seemed to be going out of his way to keep their relationship a closely guarded secret.

  After dinner, they’d return to her tiny hole of an apartment and have sex before Dante would kiss her good-bye and head back to his place. He’d return on Saturday evening when she would cook him dinner before they would wind up in bed again.

  That pretty much summed up their relationship, thought Cara with a sigh. Dante had never once suggested seeing her during the week, whether it was for coffee or lunch, and rarely contacted her. Mirai had decreed that Cara was pretty much just his fuck buddy, willing and available whenever he needed to get his rocks off, with a free dinner thrown in once a week for good measure. Cara would just laugh it off when her friend made those sort of observations, insisting time after time that being fuck buddies with a guy was all she had time for these days, and that given her crazy schedule she would make the very worst sort of girlfriend right now. But no matter how many times she kept telling that to Mirai - and to herself - she never really believed it.

  If she wasn’t careful, she scolded herself, she was going to turn into her mother - a willing doormat for the handsome, charming man she was crazy in love with, who made all manner of excuses for his behavior, and clung to him desperately for fear that he would leave her one day.

  Though Dante, of course, was nothing at all like her useless father. He was kind and considerate and generous, always offering to buy her things. Unlike Mark, who’d been too busy to talk the last several times she had called him, or who hadn’t returned her emails or texts in almost two months. His new wife and two young children were his family now, with Cara always an afterthought, a nuisance that he probably wished would just go away.

  She wondered sadly if perhaps Dante thought of her that way, too - if he’d be relieved if she suggested they go their separate ways so that he could find someone he deemed worthy of meeting his family and friends. And if she was the one to end things, it could be on her terms, and save her pride in the process. And if it broke her heart to do so - well, that was going to happen sooner than later anyway, wasn’t it?

  But as she tossed and turned, still unable to fall asleep despite her exhaustion, Cara knew that she would never voluntarily walk away from Dante, no matter how much it was going to hurt when he inevitably did the same to her.

  September – Labor Day Weekend

  Cara couldn’t remember when she’d felt quite this miserable - stuffy nose, sore throat, queasy tummy, and overall fatigue. Summer colds were officially the worst, she thought, even though there were only three weeks of the season officially remaining. And the foggy, drizzly, and windy weather in San Francisco this afternoon was anything but summery. It would have been an ideal day to curl up under the covers, drink a cup of hot tea, and binge watch as many movies as possible before falling asleep from the cold medicine she’d been taking religiously every few hours.

  The problems with that delightful scenario were plentiful. For one, she didn’t actually own a DVD player or any current movies. She could have easily borrowed the latter from Mirai, who probably owned a few thousand movies and TV series on DVD. But while Cara’s laptop had more or less been fixed, it was still temperamental, and she could almost guarantee that any DVD would freeze up halfway through the movie, and possibly cause something else to go awry with the ancient computer. The laptop had been a hand-me-down from Sharon, given to Cara when she’d started high school. The new laptop that Sharon had bought for herself after scrimping and saving for more than a year had been one of the things Mark had taken for himself when the house had been sold. And when he’d replaced that particular device with a brand new one a year later, Holly had taken it upon herself to give Sharon’s computer to her younger sister instead of returning it to Cara.

  But aside from the issue with watching a movie, today was officially laundry day, and no matter how crappy she felt Cara had been obliged to make the tedious trek to the laundromat. Fortunately, she’d just tossed everything into the dryer, so she could get out of here in less than an hour and head home to get some much needed sleep. Tomorrow was Labor Day, so the office was closed, and she could use the time to study and hopefully get over her cold.

  To make matters worse, she hadn’t seen Dante at all this weekend. He had driven up to Healdsburg on Friday morning, with plans to spend the holiday weekend with his family. He’d mentioned a co-ed baby shower for his sister, who was due to deliver around the end of the month, as well as some sort of informal reunion with several of his old high school buddies.

  But it was just as well, thought Cara as she blew her nose, that Dante wasn’t around right now to see her like this. Without glancing into a mirror, she knew how awful she must look - puffy eyes, reddened nose, pale skin, ratty hair. She’d dressed for warmth and comfort rather than style today - not that going to the laundromat was any sort of reason to get dressed up. Her navy sweatpants had holes in both knees, while her UC Berkeley sweatshirt had been washed so many times that several of the letters had been worn off. The fake Ugg boots she wore were warm but otherwise - well, they looked exactly like what they were - a cheap imitation of the real thing. Mirai would have shrieked in horror if she could see her BFF right now, thought Cara, so it was just as well that her parents were both in town and keeping her occupied with shopping excursions, brunches and dinners out, and concert tickets.

  Everyone she knew, in fact, seemed to have plans for this holiday weekend, thought Cara glumly. In addition to Dante and Mirai, her co-workers were all off somewhere fun and relaxing and warm - Angela and Nick were on a ten day vacation to Fiji; Leah and Tyler were visiting her parents in Newport Beach; and even Deepak, the avowed workaholic, had been convinced to go away for the long weekend to Las Vegas with some college friends. Her father was most likely enjoying himself with his new family at their beachfront home in Florida, and wouldn’t be able to find the time to reply to her latest email for at least a week, if at all.

  Forcing herself to put an abrupt halt to this private pity party, Cara checked how many minutes remained on the dryer cycle, then tried to figure out when she was due to take more cold medicine. Realizing she was almost a half hour overdue for the next dose, she was fumbling through her backpack for the packet of gel capsules when her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Figuring it had to be Mirai calling to check up on her, she was startled to see Dante’s name on the caller ID instead.

  “Hey, I thought you were supposed to
be watching your sister opening up all of the baby gifts,” she joked. “Or is it already time for cake?”

  Dante’s voice sounded somber in reply. “The shower was yesterday. I’m actually back in San Francisco right now. And - are you sick or something? You don’t sound very good.”

  “Just a cold is all, nothing serious,” she assured him, then proved herself to be a liar when she began to cough hoarsely.

  “That sounds pretty serious to me,” he replied. “Have you seen a doctor?”

  She didn’t dare tell him that due to the thousand dollar deductible on her health insurance she couldn’t afford to see a doctor, especially for something as relatively minor as a cold. Knowing Dante, he’d drag her to the nearest urgent care clinic and insist on paying the bill.

  “Honestly, it’s just a garden variety cold. And I’ve only had it a few days so it needs to run its course. I don’t need to see a doctor at this point.”

  “Hmm.” He sounded anything but convinced, but didn’t press her further on the matter. “And where are you exactly? It sounds pretty noisy in the background, like machinery or something.”

  “Laundromat. Sunday is wash day.”

  “Why are you doing laundry at a laundromat?” he asked incredulously. “Not,” he added hastily, “that you’d be doing anything else at a laundromat. What I meant to ask was why aren’t you using the washer and dryer where you live?”

  “The rental agreement doesn’t include laundry privileges,” she explained. “Something about a previous tenant breaking the dryer after overloading it. And another one who literally did two or three loads every single day and ran the utility bills sky high. So by the time I came along, my landlord decided not to take that sort of risk again.”