Mid Life Love: At Last

by Whitney Gracia Williams

  I called him. No answer.

  I texted him ‘Are you at home?’ No answer.

  I slipped out of the car and looked down the path where he parked his collection, noticing that his Aston Martin was missing.

  Good...

  I figured that meant he was gone and I still had time to set up everything. I headed into the house and into the dining room, determined to light a few candles and prepare some champagne for us. But when I hit the light switch nothing happened.

  I flicked it up and down two more times and there was no effect. Then they suddenly brightened and dimmed.

  “Good evening, dear.” Jonathan was sitting at the end of the table, smiling. “It’s good to know that you came home at six today like you promised...I was beginning to think you’d forgotten our anniversary.”

  “You sent me a hundred flowers today. How could I forget?” I looked around the room and noticed that he’d set out champagne and a large tray of strawberries that were drenched in chocolate.

  There were tall red candles waiting to be lit, and right in front of me—on my side of the table, was a silver box with my name on it.

  He stood up from his chair and walked over to me, holding me still with his gaze. “You know what I love most about you, Claire?”

  “There’s only one thing?”

  “There’s several.” He stepped behind me and kissed the back of my neck, setting my skin on fire. “But the one thing I love most about you, is that you are so sweetly stubborn. You can never stick to what we agree on. I don’t even think you try anymore.”

  “Nine thirty is extremely late isn’t it? Can you believe some people actually come home after that? I wonder how they live with themselves...”

  “You’re the one who suggested six o’ clock.” He pulled out my chair and moved in front of me. “Have a seat.” His voice was firm.

  “Are you trying to intimidate me, Jonathan? On our anniversary?”

  “Have a seat, Claire.”

  I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms, waiting for him to stop looking at me like he wanted to bend me over. “I’m not intimidated by you right now.”

  He smiled and pressed his lips against mine. “You should be.”

  My eyes widened and I sank down into my chair.

  I watched him light the tall candles that were spread around the room, watched him grab the champagne bottle and glasses and bring them over to me.

  He kept his eyes on mine as he popped the bottle open and poured each of us a glass.

  “To the stubborn love of my life.” He leaned against the table and placed a glass in my hand. “Next year we’ll be celebrating our wedding anniversary, but for now, cheers to—”

  “The first day we said I love you,” I whispered.

  He kissed my cheek and motioned for me to finish my glass, smiling as he drank every drop.

  “I made dinner.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek again. “Would you like to eat now?”

  “There’s another option?”

  “There’s always another option.” He reached for my hand and pulled me out of the chair. “But for your sake, I think you should eat first.”

  “Jonathan... ” I couldn’t read him tonight. There was something going on in his mind—something I desperately wanted to know. I’d told myself to keep it together on my way home, but he’d made me wet as soon as he hit the lights.

  “Yes, Claire? Were you going to say something?”

  “Right. I um—I need to change clothes before we eat. I’ll be right back.”

  “You’re at home. Just take off your rain jacket. You won’t need your clothes for too much longer anyway.”

  I stepped back. “I just want to get comfortable. It’ll only take me ten seconds.” I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed me by my waist and pulled the jacket off of me, dropping his jaw once it hit the floor.

  I could literally feel his eyes taking in my scantily clothed body, feel him trying to hold back his shock.

  He put his hands on my shoulders, looking me up and down. Then he sucked in a breath and narrowed his eyes at me. “Please tell me you took off your real clothes in the garage and no one else saw you wearing this today.”

  I sighed. I was wearing an all-black lingerie set—a bra that was nearly see-through and lace string panties that had a silk bow on each side. The set also had garters and fishnet stockings that featured a thin, silk seam that traveled up the back of my legs and complemented my shiny red stilettos.

  “Claire?” He was really trying to control himself. “I need you to answer me. Right now.”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “It better not be.” He looked me up and down again. “Someone did see you in this today?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Who?”

  “My instructor. I’ve been...I’ve been taking lessons.”

  “On how to cheat?”

  “No...Dance classes—erotic dance classes...”

  He blinked.

  “It was Helen’s idea. She said it would help me be more aggressive in telling you what I want...”

  He was silent for a while, and then his lips curved into a slight smile. “How long have you been taking them?”

  “Four months...I was going to show you later.”

  “Show me what?”

  I blushed. Even though he and I had been intimate—beyond intimate, he still had the power to make me nervous whenever we discussed sex outside of having sex.

  “You want to dance for me?” He twirled his fingers around my ponytail.

  “After dinner...I need to change.”

  “I don’t think so.” He clasped my hand and tugged me into the parlor room.

  There was a small fire crackling in the fireplace and the lights were dimmed even lower.

  “Where should I sit?” He looked down at me, grinning.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Of course not.” He kissed me. “I’m in awe. Tell me where to sit.”

  “Over there...” I pointed to the burgundy chair that was in the corner.

  He walked over to it, still holding my hand. “Am I allowed to touch you while you dance?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m going to anyway.”

  I let go of his hand and stepped back. “Give me your phone.”

  He handed it to me and I entered the pass-code, smiling when I saw that he’d changed the wallpaper to another photo of us.

  I logged into my email and found my performance song, the one the instructor said would work best.

  I took my time unfastening his tie and placed it around my neck. I slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, moving my head away each time he tried to kiss me.

  Once I got him out of his shirt, I slid my arms into it, re-buttoning every button, trying to ignore the heated looks he was giving me—the looks that made me want to stop and let him fuck me right now.

  He sighed and I ran my hands all over his hardened abs—teasing him, pressing my mouth against each pec.

  “Claire...” He pulled me into his lap, where I could feel his dick hardening in his pants. He cupped my face in his hands and brought my face close to his for a kiss, but I moved back.

  “You’re not allowed to touch me...” I pressed my finger against his lips and looked into his eyes. “You’re not allowed to talk to me either. All you can do is sit there and watch.” I ran my hand against the huge bulge in his pants. “And when I get done, I might let you fuck me.”

  He smiled and sat back in his chair with his eyebrow raised, already fucking me with his eyes.

  Chapter 9

  Jonathan

  I watched as Claire stepped away from me, as she pulled the band from around her ponytail and tossed her hair back.

  Within seconds, the song she’d selected began to play and soft, vibrating bass sounds filled the room.

  She slowly lifted my tie over her head and seductively moved her hips. Then she brought the tie in front of her chest,
twisting it between her hands, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

  She struck the floor with it, biting her lip. “Is it hard for you to let me be in control for a change?”

  “You’re not in control.” I smiled.

  She put a hand on her hip and strutted over to me, leaning forward and whispering in my ear. “That question was rhetorical, Jonathan...Do I need to get you a dictionary so you can learn what that word means?”

  I reached out to bend her over my lap, but she moved behind me and started massaging my shoulders—blowing kisses against my neck as her hands found their way down to my chest.

  Just as I was starting to get used to her soft rhythm, she moved her hands away and sashayed around me, slowly unbuttoning the white dress shirt.

  When she reached the last button, she playfully opened the shirt to show off the black ‘fuck-me’ lingerie, then she closed it again. She repeated this at least six times, until she finally slid the shirt off her body and tossed it across the room.

  As the song reached the second verse, she dropped down to the floor, and stretched her legs up to the ceiling, spreading them into a wide “V.” Then she brought her legs together again and bent them, bringing them close to her chest before she flipped her whole body over.

  Seductively smiling, she sat up on her knees and ran her hands across her breasts—squeezing them and shutting her eyes.

  I was trying my hardest not to get up and grab her, desperately trying to keep my hands at my sides as she continued to smirk at me and move across the floor.

  “Something wrong, Jonathan?” She stood up and dragged one of the bar’s chairs a few feet across from me. “You’re not usually this quiet...” She sat on the chair with her back facing me and rolled her head around, tossing her hair all over. Then she bent all the way backwards, using her hands to brace the floor, and before I knew it she’d flipped over and was crawling up into my lap.

  I caressed her hips with my hands, but she grabbed them and moved them away as she started to grind her hips against me—purposely rolling against my dick.

  “I thought about you today at work...” she whispered into my ear.

  I was losing it. She was too fucking good at this.

  She leaned back and spread her legs wider. “I thought to myself—I wonder how he’ll fuck me after I’m done...Will it be with him on top?” She moaned as she gyrated against me even harder. “Against the wall? In his lap?”

  I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before...

  She brought her lips close to mine like she was going to kiss me, but she quickly moved away and stood up, walking over to the wall.

  She pressed her back against it and stretched her arms up high, twisting and turning her hips to the beat, knowing damn well she was getting to me.

  I leaned forward and reached out for her, but she kicked my hand away.

  “I’m not finished.” She narrowed her eyes at me and turned around, bending over so her ass was in my face.

  I can’t take this shit anymore...

  I stood up and pulled her against me, but she broke free and pushed me back down into my chair. Before I could tell her that this dance was over and push her up against the bar, she bent down between my legs and unzipped my pants.

  The song was repeating itself for the third time, but she didn’t make a move to change it. She simply unzipped my pants and removed them before pulling something out of her bra—a bottle of some type. She poured whatever it was all over my dick and rubbed her hands all over it, making me shut my eyes and groan.

  The next thing I felt were her wet lips touching my tip, her soft tongue slowly swirling around.

  “God, Claire...” I ran my fingers through her hair as she took me deeper and deeper into her mouth, as she brought me to the verge of a climax.

  Before I could cum, I pulled her up and looked into her eyes, in complete and total fucking awe.

  Kissing her lips, I picked her up and carried her to the other side of the room.

  I laid her across the bar and spread her legs apart, tearing her lace panties off.

  She moaned as I pressed kisses up and down her thighs, as I grabbed her by the ankles and tossed her legs over my shoulders.

  Before she could take another breath, I gently sucked her clit into my mouth and ran my tongue along her folds, teasing her with every lick.

  “Ahhh...Ahhh...Jonathannn...” She was squirming, trying to sit up, but I pushed her back down.

  I kissed her swollen wet lips like I was kissing her mouth—pushing my tongue further and further, rolling it around relentlessly. Each time she screamed, I caressed her clit with softer kisses, never moving my mouth away from her.

  Her hips started to shake and she started breathing heavily, saying my name as she got closer and closer to her orgasm.

  I felt her legs trembling—quivering, and I knew she was seconds away from coming so I lifted my head up and stepped back.

  Smiling, I joined her on top of the bar’s counter and snapped her bra off.

  She sat up and looked at me in confusion. “Why...Why did you...Why did you stop?” She panted.

  I blinked and spun her around, positioning her on all fours. I skimmed my hands against her sides and pulled her hair back. Then I pounded into her with no mercy, listening to the cries of pleasure that were coming from her mouth.

  “Fuckkkkk....Jonathannnn...”

  “You are so fucking sexy, Claire...” I kissed the back of her shoulder and I tugged on her hair even harder. “And mine...”

  I moved my hands to her breasts and squeezed them, harshly twisting her nipples as I pounded into her again and again.

  She screamed louder and started to slump forward—nearly collapsing, so I drew back and flipped her over.

  I slid into her again and gazed into her eyes. “I love you...” I felt her tightening around me as she reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “Say it back.” I slowly thrust in and out of her, watching as she started to lose control. “Say it back, Claire.”

  “I...I love...I love you too...” She cried out and held onto me as we came at the same time.

  Her chest was heaving fast and she was breathing heavily.

  I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers, muffling most of her murmurs. I kissed every inch of her face and placed a long, warm kiss against her neck.

  When her breathing finally slowed down, I slid out of her and pulled her into my lap.

  “Are you okay?” I brushed her damp hair away from her forehead.

  She nodded.

  “You should’ve told me you were taking classes. I wouldn’t have been upset about you coming home late because of that.”

  “I...I wanted to surprise you...Did you like it?”

  “I loved it...” I kissed her lips again and positioned her in my lap. “And I’m going to love fucking you in every position you mentioned for the rest of the night.”

  I woke up alone and rolled over in bed, reaching for Claire, but she’d disappeared. Just as I was about to get up and look for her, she walked into the room holding a breakfast tray.

  “Are you ever going to tell me how breakfast is always magically fixed and waiting for us every morning?” She set the tray on the nightstand.

  “No.”

  “You have a contract with a caterer don’t you?” She picked up a piece of toast. “That’s why you never cook breakfast—only lunch and dinner...”

  “Was that supposed to be a question?”

  “Do you plan on answering it?”

  I pulled her back into the bed and kissed her lips. “I’ll tell you one day.”

  She tried to get up, but I pinned her down and kissed my way to her neck.

  “Wait...We need to talk...” she murmured.

  “About what?” I continued kissing her.

  “I’m getting my tubes untied next week. I want to try and have another baby—your baby.”

  “Excuse me?” I sat up and narrowed my eyes
at her. “What did you just say?”

  She burst into laughter. “I wanted to make sure you were paying attention. It was a joke.”

  “Please don’t tell another one.”

  She propped her head on a pillow. “I don’t want to have sex again until after we’re married. I was thinking about it the other day and...”

  My mind hadn’t processed anything beyond that first sentence.

  I saw her lips moving, caught a few more of her words—“intimate” “special” “genuine”—but that first sentence had blown my mind.

  “What do you think?” was the next thing I heard her say.

  “What do I think about what?”

  “About being abstinent until we get married.”

  “It’s not happening.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it doesn’t make any damn sense. Because I didn’t ask you to be my wife so I could not fuck you. It’s. Not. Happening.”

  She sighed. “I want our first time as a married couple to be special...”

  “It will be special.” I ran my hand across her thigh. “Very special.”

  “I want it to be like our first time...”

  “I fucked you in a kitchen our first time. What are you saying, Claire?”

  “You know exactly what I’m saying.” She sat up and kissed me. Then she spoke very slowly. “I don’t want to have sex again until we’re actually married. I think it’ll be good for us—it’ll test our commitment to one another.”

  I was silent. Shocked.

  After the amazing night we’d had, I couldn’t believe she was saying these words to me, that she was even asking me to do something like this.

  I shook my head. “I can’t...”

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “Both.”

  “Jonathan...”

  I pulled her into my arms, close enough that we were lip to lip and our eyes were perfectly aligned. “I’m addicted to you, Claire,” I whispered against her mouth. “Fucking addicted. Not one second goes by that you’re not on my mind. Not. One. Second. When deals are coming across my desk, I’m wondering how your day is going at your shop, wondering if you’ll laugh or smile at the note I sent with your flowers. You have no idea how hard it is for me to stay in my office when you text me about going on your lunch break, no idea how much I have to restrain myself when you’re not home by six and hosting another late night meeting.”