Sweatpants Season

by Danielle Allen

  “Oh shit!” Arching my back violent, I gave him better access to all of me.

  The new angle made him groan into my wetness. I moaned his name repeatedly until I bucked against his tongue.

  My legs felt wobbly and he had to help me turn around.

  “Can you stand?” he asked me.

  “Barely,” I panted.

  As soon as I was facing him, our mouths crashed together. As we kissed, I felt him stroking himself. He pulled out of the kiss momentarily to run his fingers over my sensitive flesh. Using my wetness, he went back to stroking himself, and I couldn’t look away. The highly erotic sight of him, slick with my excitement, pleasuring himself was almost too much for me to take.

  Taking a couple of steps to the couch, I bent over the back of it and spread my legs wide. Turning my head, I looked over my shoulder at him, and he eyed me with pure lust.

  “Please.”

  That one little word was all it took.

  Lining up behind me, I felt the head of Carlos’s dick moving up and down my slit. “I’m going to take my time.” He exhaled roughly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Mm hmm,” I whimpered.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I groaned as he leisurely pushed against me and then withdrew, never truly penetrating me.

  A chill ran through me as I anticipated being stretched by him.

  “So, you’ve been fantasizing about me?” His voice was strained.

  “Ummm,” I stalled.

  His hand came down solidly on my ass cheek as pleasure radiated from the point of contact.

  “Tell me.” With each word, he applied a little more pressure, and the head of his dick was opening me up. He exhaled. “What was the fantasy?”

  “It was more than one,” I admitted faintly.

  “Shit… did you play with yourself as you fantasized about me?” His voice was just above a whisper.

  “Yes…oh, yes.” My body was giving in to him as he gently pushed just the head inside me. It hurt in the best way possible. “Oh my god.”

  “And what did I do in these fantasies?”

  “You filled—” My voice tapered off into a deep, guttural moan as he slowly sank into me. He paused, holding himself still, making me beg for him to continue.

  “Please,” I begged. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “You feel so fucking good,” Carlos whispered.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes, give it to me,” I pleaded with him, my voice wavering as he continued stretching me out.

  “Shit,” he cursed before we moaned in unison.

  With each inch, he filled me, and the pure pleasure my body felt weakened me. Once he was completely in, he held himself still.

  “I thought about you, too,”

  I clenched my muscles, letting the wet heat clamp down around him. He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. “You feel even better than I imagined,” he said hoarsely.

  Knowing that he imagined being inside me caused me to tremble. Grabbing my hair from the root, he started moving, slowly at first. I was so wet that it didn’t take long for me to adjust and his thrust had a little more power. He’d pull almost all the way out, before crashing into me again. His hands were everywhere as his dick kept a steady pace. My body adjusted to his size and milked him for everything he had. The ache deep inside of me became unbearable as his strokes became less controlled. The sound of skin slapping together reverberated through the air as he increased his pace.

  My breathing became more labored and ragged as he lost control.

  “Akila,” he groaned as he gripped my hips.

  The sound of my name mixing with the pleasure he was giving me was everything. I stiffened against him, my back arching, my muscles tensing, and my body shaking. He climaxed immediately after I did. And as I lay over the back of the couch like a ragdoll, I struggled to catch my breath from the most intense orgasm I'd ever had.

  Wrapping his arms around me, he helped me up and carried me to his dimly lit bedroom. The room had the faint smell of sandalwood and vanilla—my new favorite smell.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, helping me onto the bed. He climbed in after me and pulled me close. “You looked unsteady on your legs.”

  “Because my body is still recovering from what you did to it,” I murmured, twisting until I was comfortably resting my head on his chest. “I should probably go as soon as I can walk again.”

  “You don’t have to.” He was quiet for a moment. “You can stay.”

  Listening to his racing heart, I smiled. “Don’t tempt me.” Running my hand over the firmness of his body, I tried to commit every ridge and muscle to memory. “I’ve never actually felt weak in the knees before. I thought that was just a saying.”

  His fingertips skated over my back and his lips brushed my forehead. “I don’t think this is going to help me not think about you.”

  My smile grew. “You thought of me often?”

  “Every day since we met.”

  “All good things, I hope.”

  He chuckled to himself. “For the most part.”

  “What?” I yelped playfully.

  Laughing harder, he countered, “Was everything you thought about me all good?”

  “Touché,” I giggled. “But mostly it was good.”

  “Honestly, the things that frustrate me about you are the same things that I find incredibly sexy about you. Except the fact that you’re judgmental.”

  I swatted at him and tried to pull away, but he held me tight. “Hey! I think everything about you is amazing except for the fact that you are complicit.” Giving up the half-hearted attempt to get out of his arms, I returned my head to his chest.

  “I’m not complicit.”

  “I’m not judgmental.”

  “I don’t agree with what City Boy says most of the time.”

  “I’m not judgmental. I’m discerning.”

  We were quietly holding each other as our words hung in the air between us.

  “What does your family think about what you do?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  For three hours, we talked and discussed things beyond writing and photography. For three hours, we cuddled and got to know each other better. And when we both began yawning, we kissed goodnight. But that kiss deepened and before I knew it, I was sitting on his dick.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How exciting! Your assignment for the week is to capture a photo of a beautiful man. That shouldn’t be hard, right? You could ask whoever has been taking you on all these dates recently,” my mother pried. I could hear her motherly nosiness clearly through the phone call.

  My brows furrowed. “I haven’t been going on a bunch of dates recently.”

  “And that’s part of the problem,” she joked, giggling hysterically.

  “Why are you like this?” I laughed. “You’re a crazy person, you know that?”

  “Yes. And it’s where you get it from, my child.”

  I smiled. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart.” She paused. “But I do worry that you work so much and don’t have much of a social life...”

  My mind flashed to the night before and my body stirred. Just thinking about the ways in which Carlos had satisfied me was almost too much to handle.

  “…Once this photography class is over and you get into more of a flow at Re-Mix, maybe you’ll have time for a date. You know who has been asking about you? Nancy’s son, Eddie.”

  “Mom, I’m fine.”

  “I know you’re fine. I just don’t want you to be lonely.”

  Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “I’m not lonely, Mom. And I’m not interested in Eddie.”

  “Why? Because he’s a little lanky?”

  “No, I don’t—”

  “Because your high school boyfriend was a little lanky, too.”

  “Good Lord, Mom,” I snickered. “Calm down.”

  “I’m just saying, maybe Eddie—”

  “Mom, it has n
othing to do with what he looks like. I’m more concerned about who he is as a person. And Eddie isn’t the great kid you think he is.”

  “He isn’t a kid. He’s a man now. He’s twenty-two.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s not the issue either.”

  “Is it because of that time he teased you and said you had a big butt when you were in elementary school?”

  I laughed. “No. But I still remember you telling me that having a big butt was something to be proud of and that I’ll grow to appreciate it.” I paused. “You were right.”

  Mom giggled. “Well, let me be right about you and Eddie.”

  “You know he posted a status update on social media about how the only thing a woman can offer a man is sex and a sandwich.”

  “Oh!” The surprise in her voice was evident. “I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what he had going on in his life, but he’s posted a lot of questionable things about women.”

  “Hm.” I could hear my mom’s lips pursing. “Well, then he’s out. I know you don’t play about stuff like that, so I won’t bring that up again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But you still need a date to our recommitment ceremony next month...”

  “I don’t need a date. You want me to have a date.”

  “True. Your dad and I just want to make sure you’re getting out there. We don’t want you sitting around, cooped up in your room with your laptop. If Meghan didn’t live there, I’d be worried you didn’t have any social interactions at all.”

  “I have plenty of social interactions.”

  “But are any of them romantic?”

  “I can be happily single, Mom.”

  “You can be. But are you? That’s all we want, honey. And single people socialize.” She sighed. “You don’t need a man to make you happy. Just make sure you’re doing something more than writing. Go out and have some fun.”

  I had some fun last night.

  “Mom, I’m happy. I swear. And as a gift to you and Dad, I’m coming with a date to your ceremony.”

  “Yes!” She was giddy. “And will you go on a date soon? Maybe someone in your photography class will catch your eye.”

  Carlos.

  I cleared my throat, blinking away the vivid images of the night before. “I’ll see what I can do. But in the meantime, I have an article to write and a good-looking man to photograph.”

  “I’m so proud of you.”

  I grinned, warmth and happiness filling my soul. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I’ll let you get back to work. Have a good day, Kiki.”

  “You, too. Love you!”

  “Love you, too.”

  I ended the call and then did a double take when I looked at the screen.

  A text message from Carlos.

  Carlos Richmond: Did you see the email from Re-Mix about He Said, She Said?

  Akila Bishara: No, not yet.

  I clicked my email icon on my phone and clicked on the first Re-Mix email I saw. As I read the short email and reviewed the chart, tears pricked my eyes. We not only were one of the most viewed articles, but we had the most clicks and shares online.

  Akila Bishara: I just read it!!! Oh my GOD!!!!!!!!!!!

  Carlos Richmond: Congratulations A. Bishara!

  Akila Bishara: Congratulations Carlos Richmond!

  Carlos Richmond: I’m leaving the school now. Are you free to talk?

  I stared at the phone for a few seconds and then I hit the button to place the call.

  “Hey,” Carlos greeted me.

  Hearing his voice put a smile on my face, but I kept my tone even. “Hey, how are you?”

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Just working on my stuff about Rich Gallery.”

  “I finished my first draft during my planning period. I need to take another pass over it. I was a little distracted.”

  “Oh?” I blinked, trying to clear my mind from our night together. “Distracted?”

  “Yeah…”

  I licked my lips. The small flutter in my belly became even more noticeable as the idea of me being on his mind settled upon me.

  “…the kids were wild today and didn’t want to listen.”

  Wait, what?

  “Oh.” Covering my eyes with my hands, I squeezed my eyes together. “Yeah, of course. It’s Monday. They were probably still riled up from the weekend.”

  “Do you think you’re going to have your work done today?” he inquired, seemingly unaware that I was slightly embarrassed.

  Get your shit together. It was a one-time thing.

  “Yeah, I spent the morning trying to find my subject for Luca’s assignment, I reworked my article about the happy hour at Koi, and then I started my prewriting process before talking to my mom for over an hour.”

  “Oh, that’s cool. Your mom lives far away, right?”

  “Not too far away. My parents live in Virginia. Maybe an hour and a half away. With traffic, four and a half hours.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, the DC traffic is crazy. I was thinking they were in Georgia for some reason.”

  I shivered. The sound of his laugh always managed to infiltrate my soul. “That’s where my mom is from, but my parents live in Virginia now. Your family is from Philadelphia, right?”

  “Most of my family is in Philly, but my parents live right outside of Richland. We moved here when I was in fifth grade and they moved to the suburbs after I graduated high school.”

  “If I’m understanding this correctly, she’s close enough that if you wanted to, you could call your mom and ask her to make you that cake you swore would change my life?”

  His laugh cracked the air like thunder. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  My toes curled. “Interesting. So, I would imagine I’d have a slice within the week.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “Let me eat cake!”

  His amusement was still evident in his voice as he spoke. “I can’t believe you’re not a spoiled only child. Are you older or younger than your sister?”

  “She’s a few years younger.”

  “That’s cool. I had to join a frat to get brothers.”

  “She’s one of my best friends so I get that.”

  Speaking of best friends…

  “Um,” I started slowly. “Speaking of your fraternity… Luna wanted me to focus on the parallels between Date Night and Brad.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “And that’s what I did.”

  “I had no doubt.”

  “I just wanted to be sure you knew…”

  He chuckled under his breath. “You wanted to make sure I knew that last night didn’t change anything?”

  I took a breath. “Work wise, no.”

  “Work wise, no,” he repeated. “And what about otherwise?”

  I tugged at the edge of my shirt. “What do you mean? It was a one-time thing.”

  “So, it helped… it took your mind off of me?”

  I hesitated, not willing to let myself be embarrassed again in the conversation. “Mm hmm.”

  “So, you’ve been able to get through the day and not think about last night?”

  I swallowed hard. “Mm hmm.”

  “Because I have to tell you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night.”

  “I mean… it may have crossed my mind once or twice,” I lied playfully.

  The sexy rumble of his laugh sent a jolt through me. “Once or twice, huh?”

  Grinning, I switched the phone to my other ear. “Mm hmm.”

  “It was a one-time thing.”

  It didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like a reminder. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to remind me or remind himself.

  “It was a one-time thing,” I agreed. “But it was a hell of a truce though.”

  “Yes, it was,” he agreed with a groan. “Allegedly to help with the sexual tension.”

  I bit my lip. “Allegedly.”


  “Maybe it’ll start helping after a good night’s sleep,” he joked softly.

  “After a good night’s sleep, we won’t be starring in each other’s thoughts.”

  “I’ve been starring in your thoughts, huh? That sounds like I was on your mind more than once or twice,” he pointed out, causing me to laugh.

  “And on that note, I need to get some work done,” I snickered. “I’ll talk to you later—about the article.”

  “Akila?”

  “Yes?”

  “You can hit me up about more than just the article or photography class. I know a truce doesn’t mean we’re…I know the truce doesn’t change anything. I just wanted you to know.”

  My voice faltered a bit. “Okay.”

  “It was nice talking to you.”

  “You, too.”

  After we said our goodbyes, I found myself sitting and smiling for a solid minute.

  “What is this? A school girl crush? You’re a grown ass woman with work to do,” I muttered to myself, massaging the smile from my cheeks.

  Newly focused, I immediately opened my laptop and continued writing my He Said, She Said article. Because I wanted to focus without any distractions, I put my phone on silent. I was in the zone and didn’t realize how much time had gone by until I heard the front door opening.

  “Akila!” Meghan shouted.

  “In my room! I thought you were going to the gym after work,” I replied, still typing. I glanced at the time.

  Wow, it’s late.

  “I did!” She burst in my room, sweaty and wigless. “Why haven’t you been answering the phone?”

  “It’s on silent.” I turned back toward the laptop. “I’m almost done and then I’ll cook dinner. I chopped a bunch of veggies while I was talking to my mom earlier.”

  “Have you talked to Alex?”

  Grabbing my phone, I checked my missed calls and messages. I turned to face Meghan. “No. She called once, but I missed it.”

  “She called me, but my phone was in the car while I was in the gym. I called her back on my way here, but she didn’t answer.”

  The sound of the front door opening made us both look at each other quizzically.

  “Alex?” I called out, standing up, following Meghan toward the living room.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” Alex answered.