If Only (Captured)

by Louise J

  He walks to the door and picks up our stuff and puts it on the floor at the foot of the bed. Sitting back on his haunches, he unzips each of our duffels and starts searching through his. We might not have time for full sex, but there’s something I do want to do, and I’ll make sure that it doesn’t take long.

  Silently and quickly, I strip out of my clothes, leaving on my peach colored lace boy shorts and matching bra. I position myself on all fours, on the mattress, facing him at the end of it. “Joe,” I whisper, not that it’s necessary to keep my voice so low. He stands up, an air of shock about his face as his gaze locks with mine. Now I’m looking up at him like a lazy cat waiting to be stroked. Smiling, I shift forward slightly and grab his waistband with one hand, supporting my body weight with the other under me. “I want you to fuck my mouth, Joe.” I tug him closer and release the top button. “We’ve got time.”

  “This is honestly the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, his hungry stare roaming my flesh, down my spine, lingering on my butt. Slowly, he shakes his head. “Damn, I love your ass.” His focus is so intense it feels as though he’s actually touching me, warm palms and fingers gliding across my skin. I suppress the moan his phantom caress rouses, but I can’t control the throbbing between my legs.

  “Come here.” My breathlessly whispered words were because it’s the best I could manage, I’m overwhelmed with arousal. Today is going to be a very long, very hard day.

  Once his jeans and underwear are down, I get to see something I’ve thought about many, many times. Fuck yeah. It’s bigger and better in reality; standing to attention, long, thick and ready, blood filled veins bulging. Yes, please and thank you very much.

  I curled my hand into a tight fist around the base of his cock and pull along the full length, all the way to the tip. A slow, low hiss sounds as Joe sucks in air between clenched teeth. A bead of pre-come makes an appearance, and I lick it away. I lower my upper body just enough, arching my lower back, leaving my butt high in the air. Overeager, I take him all the way to the rear of my throat, capturing a fair amount of his length. I leave his shaft wet with my saliva, as I draw back, so this time when I take him he slides in easier. Mmm, yes. Pulling back again, I suck harder, and Joe lets out a groan. I moan right back, it’s impossible not to, he sounds sexy as hell, all masculine and aroused.

  Taking his balls in my palm and massaging them, I use my tongue on the head. Slick swirls and some firm suction, and I can hear him reacting to the attention this sensitive area is getting; low, deep groans. I could come just listening to him. Releasing him, to admire his masterpiece, I say the most prominent thing on my mind. “I seriously fucking love your cock, Joe.”

  Claiming him again, Joe cups the back of my head with his hand, but not firmly, and thrusts into my mouth in time with me. “You have no idea how hot you look from here,” he says, his voice tense. Mutually, we become more vigorous. “Ah, fuck, Callie.” His dick starts to thicken and spasm, his moans becoming more strained. He comes in my mouth, and I willingly swallow everything he gives.

  Pulling away, I kneel upright and run my thumb across my saliva drenched bottom lip. All of a sudden, I’m trying to come across elegant. There was nothing elegant about the way I just sucked him off, why am I even bothering? Reaching for my discarded shirt, I wipe my wet face with it and check my watch. “We’ve got about ten minutes.”

  I stand up, and Joe grasps my hips firmly. “I’ve never wanted to fuck you as much as I do right now. I didn’t think it was possible to want you more than I already did.” He draws me to him, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, his forehead pressing between my breasts.

  It’s impossible not to grin to myself – I just had Joe’s cock in my mouth.

  We’re one step closer to the biggie now. Hurry up today!

  Thirty Six: Joe

  Leaning my shoulder against the door frame, I watch Callie put in her pink ear studs. Her long-sleeved, tight lace mini dress reveals her entire back, the cream color of the clothing a shade darker than her fair skin. I focus briefly on her sparkly stiletto sandals, imagining her in them and nothing else. Simple makeup, her hair pulled up into a high bun with pink roses; she has no idea how beautiful she is.

  Turning from the mirror, she sees me watching her. Walking to me, she compliments my attire, part of which is a luxurious dress shirt she and Su bought me for my birthday. “I love this shirt on you,” she says, smoothing her hands over my chest. “You look sexy all in black.”

  “I love this dress on you.” I trace my finger tips down over her hip, feeling the super soft fabric clinging to her curves. “I’m looking forward to taking it off soon, too.” I take Callie by the hand and we walk along the hall, to the stairs.

  Everyone is drinking tonight, so we get a couple of cabs to the club. We’re in the VIP section, so we don’t have to join the line outside. The music is a mix of genres, which is ideal given the varied taste among the seven of us. A heavy Hip hop beat plays while we sit in our semi-circular, purple and black leather booth, knocking back shots and cocktails. I’m not getting hammered, not tonight, but I am in the mood for alcohol.

  The three girls get up and start dancing when Justin Timberlake sounds. My focus locks on Callie and her sexy rhythm. Summer Love is playing, demanding those hips of hers to work with it. I’ve always liked the way she moves and the way she gets lost in the music and doesn’t give a damn if anybody’s watching.

  She notices my attention and makes eye contact with me. I feel like I’m getting my own private show, nobody else exists – it’s just the two of us. Singing along with the chorus, she lifts her small digital camera, which she uses when she’s not working, and starts taking my picture. I don’t move. I watch her watching me.

  We’re all up now, the atmosphere is electric, everyone in the room is feeling the vibe as the track goes on in an extended version. I’m behind Callie, taking in the sensual, fluid movement of her spine and that ass, oh, that ass. My grasp on her hips, I move in closer.

  After a few other songs play, Callie goes to the ladies’ room. I take the opportunity to talk to Johnny, the guy who owns Blaze.

  Callie returns soon after. She hasn’t been gone long and she has a mischievous look about her face, which amuses me and turns me on. The dance floor is busier, hotter, the beat still heavy, though slightly quicker. We move over to a corner. Her arms up around my neck, mine tight around her waist, she feels so small. If I held her the way I want to, I’d probably break her. Her heels assist with the height difference, and I adjust myself to help some more. We find our own pace, slower than the song playing, but perfect for us.

  She knows I’m hard, it’s impossible not to be. I seize her butt, partly in frustration, and pull her tighter to me. Reaching behind herself, she takes one of my hands and guides it in between us and up under her dress.

  I feel her warm, slick folds. No panties.

  Thirty Seven: Callie

  Joe’s eyes widen and then his lips curve into a bigger smile, as he realizes I have no panties on. The hold on my butt gets tighter, so tight it almost hurts, but I like it. I’m wet already and then he slips a finger into me, tempting me more. I put my mouth to his chest and grip a chunk of flesh between my teeth, from the outside of his shirt.

  He speaks in my ear. “I wanna be naked with you.”

  “Let’s get out of here then, birthday boy.”

  We jump in a cab, the extent of our arousal ludicrous. We’re as discrete as possible on the way back to the house, but we’re still all over each other, kissing and touching. I can smell our fragrances, my apple, Joe’s sweet-spice, and our desperate perspiration all combined, creating a heady aroma. I’ve imagined sex between us countless times, what it would be like, the different ways we could do it. The way we are right now, I can tell we’re going to be fucking hard. We’re horny as hell and frustrated. Maybe that’s the result of a seven year wait, plus an additional twenty-four hours of knowing the inevitable. The slow stuff can wait.


  The moment we’re through the front door, Joe picks me up from behind and takes me over to the big, sturdy dining table. I swear he read my mind. Bending me over it, he presses my chest and my cheek against the smooth, cool surface, my arms spread wide across the width of it and my ass up in the air. Kisses and grazing teeth all the way up my spine, the sensations and the anticipation have me breathless. He tugs on my hair, lifting my head enough for me to feast on his tongue. Our moans fill the large, empty house, echoing off the walls.

  Pulling away from me, Joe tells me to, “Wait right there.” I like the demand within his tone and can only obey.

  He returns in rapid time, with condoms, and raises my dress up over my hips, the chill of the air lightly stroking butt. I eagerly await his next move and gasp against the table when I feel his tongue dive into me from behind. I clutch the edges tighter with my hands, taking every bit of pleasure his wicked mouth unleashes; licking, sucking and spearing into me. I moan louder, on inhalation taking in the polished-woodsy smell from beneath me. He keeps going, taking me almost to the point of climax.

  Then he moves away.

  I’m over ready and barely feel his entry before he drives into me. He curses through gritted teeth and says something I can’t hear through my own cries. His fingers link with mine as he takes me deep, hard, fast. Every single thrust propels through my entire body, owning me. “You feel amazing,” he almost growls in my ear.

  The sharp press of teeth on my shoulder momentarily stuns me. “Ah, shit,” I breathe, as the bite through my dress just brushes the pain boundary in a quick and arousing way. I cry out and grip his fingers harder. “Damn you, Joe.”

  “I wanna see your face,” he demands. He backs off from me.

  I stand on shaky legs, turning to him. He’s still fully clothed, only with his shirt unbuttoned all the way down and his fly open. Before me is god of sex and beautiful masculinity, a vision exceeding any I’ve witnessed before, and being dressed all in black enhances the effect. The mystery that remains with only limited exposure is insanely hot. Should I jump on him, like a crazed nymphomaniac, or just stand here looking at him?

  I loosen out my hair, letting it all hang down. “You look so sexy, Joe. I want you to stay like that.” He stares at me. We’re both respiring heavily and I’m certain the raw need in his eyes is a match for mine. Pulling up my dress, I take it off and throw it on the floor. Only my stilettos remain.

  His face becomes more serious, he’s looking at me as though he hasn’t already seen me naked. Stepping to me, he lifts me up. I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and he carries me up to the bedroom. On the way, I unbuckle my stilettos and drop them on the floor by the door. Joe toes-off his shoes, keeping me in his hold.

  The coolness of the unoccupied room tickles my bare flesh and the feel of the soft, cool cotton bedding against my skin, as he lays me down, is a welcome contrast to the heat of me.

  The light from the hallway bathes us in faint luminosity.

  Kneeling between my legs, Joe’s expression right now is a new one to add to my collection. It isn’t as easy to identify, it’s an interaction of emotions. Love is in there, but it always has been, it was just unknown to me. “I’m drowning in the scent of your arousal. I can still taste you. Yet, I feel like I can’t get enough of you,” he says, his voice low and full of desire, his palms gliding up and down my inner thighs. “How is it you’ve only made me crave you more?”

  “Take me, Joe.”

  As he lies over me, I snake my arms around his neck and push my hips up to meet his first thrust into me. He moves slow and deliberate. My entire body and all its senses become submerged in him; I’m lost in a haze of pure Joe.

  “You feel so much better than I imagined, so perfectly-fucking-right,” he tells me, softly in my ear.

  “I can feel you everywhere,” I whisper back.

  Our warm skins press together, hips rocking in perfect synchronization. The feel of him inside me, sliding back and forth, unhurried, filling me deeply, is impossible to put into words and so much more than just fucking.

  Never have I felt this way before, emotionally or physically.

  Hooking one of my legs over the crook of his elbow, he thrusts harder. One hand around his neck, I grip his waist with my other and welcome everything he gives me. Right now, we’re verging on aggressive and there’s a luscious, sexy vulnerability in being taken by Joe, me naked and him fully clothed. The vision of sex with him is just as astonishing as the way it feels. Watching this beautiful, dominant man take me hard like this is mind blowing.

  A glistening sheen of sweat covers the exposed section of his torso now. I’m hot, strands of my hair are sticking to my face and beads of perspiration have formed down the center of my body. I reach for the collar of his damp shirt and start sliding it over his shoulders. Together, we take it off, and he lowers himself down on me. Our pelvises press together as he grinds into me with intent. “Ah,” and there it is, “oh, shit.” In an explosion of sensation, I’m taken over mind and body. This time I bite him, right on the top of his shoulder.

  As I ease my hold on Joe, his grasp on me tightens as he reaches his own powerful climax. I clench my pussy around his cock as it spasms, wanting to hold on to this moment forever.

  He relaxes over me, supporting most of his weight with his forearms, and slowly withdraws. We exchange a lazy, salty kiss, the heavy thumping in our chests starting to calm. I can feel his against my own; two ferocious heartbeats taking each other on.

  “Did I really just have sex with Callie Ann Rogers?”

  “I think you did, but we can try it again if you wanna make sure.” I smile, still finding it difficult to believe he wants me this much. I’ve spent years thinking I didn’t stand a chance and the past few days dreading his rejection.

  After a bit of time, he shifts off of me. “I’m gonna go pick up your dress.”

  He leaves the room. I turn onto my side feeling tired, but too wonderful to care. My restless nights are catching up with me, but I don’t want to sleep, I want to stay awake and in this moment.

  I turn on the sidelight and relax, but keep my eyes open, so I don’t succumb to slumber. It still feels as though Joe’s inside me and I don’t want to doze and miss out on this, even if there are going to be other times. There’ll never be the first time again.

  Wow! I just had sex with Joe.

  Of course, I knew what I was doing when I was doing it, but right now it fully registers. All those years of wanting and imagining and now it’s really happened. It more than surpassed any of the things I came up with. I shake my head in disbelief.

  The whole time I’ve loved him, he’s loved me. I never knew. Again, I shake my head in disbelief.

  Just as my eyelids fail, Joe walks into the room, closing the door behind him. I turn onto my back and watch him. He has my dress slung over his shoulder and a beverage in each hand. “You have no idea how much I need that,” I say, pleased with his way of thinking.

  “You know, I think I might,” he says, grinning. He sits at the edge of the bed, still wearing his pants, the fly closed and belt unbuckled. I’ve seen his exposed torso, all that muscle and ink, so many times, but now it’s all mine. Mine.

  He passes me my drink, the glass ice cold and wet. I sit up as he gets up to drape my clothing over the red leather chair in the corner. Sipping my soda, the chilled bubbles fizzle on my tongue and down my throat. Closing my eyes for a moment, I enjoy the refreshment it brings. I take another taste.

  “How long have your parents had this house?” I observe my surroundings with more attention than I gave earlier.

  “Nineteen years. Are you checking out my teenaged-inspired room?”

  “Yes.” It’s intriguing seeing the room he grew up in, it’s obvious a younger man once occupied it, yet it’s quite mature at the same time. My gaze travels from the chair to the white, glossy dresser that runs along the whole length of the far wall. On top of it there’s a large TV and a music
system. I imagine DVDs and CDs would once have occupied some of the ample surface. There’s also a poster on the closet door.

  Laughing lightly, I ask, “Was Pam your teenage crush?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He grins, looking at the picture. He shifts to sit beside me, and we rest back against the headboard. I snuggle into his side, enjoying the feel of his warm, bare upper body next to mine. “Who was yours?” he asks.

  “Jared Leto.”

  He chuckles. “Figures.”

  “I thought I was going to marry him some day.”

  I reach across Joe to put my glass on the nightstand. Shifting, I sit sideways on his lap, my arms around his shoulders. He holds my naked body tightly to his. I press my lips to the side of his neck, above the throb of his strong, steady pulse, and work my way along his jaw. My mouth to his, I move to straddle him, my slick center against his erection from the outside of his pants.

  Sleep can wait, I have one or two things I want to do with this man of mine.

  Thirty Eight: Joe

  Late morning and we’re the only two up, we’re making breakfast for everyone. While I’m preparing the pancakes, Callie, who’s supposed to be in charge of the scrambled eggs, is bent over the kitchen island, elbows resting on the granite top, one leg crossed in front of the other, reading a newspaper someone must have brought with them yesterday. She’s in pink skinny jeans and a black tank top and she’s playing with some loose strands of hair falling free from her ponytail. Sexy as fuck, as always.

  As I return to the food she’s distracting me from, Callie comes up behind me, her soft hands gently on my hips and her cheek pressed against my shoulder blade. “Joe, this is so weird.” She wraps her arms around my waist.

  “What’s weird?”

  “You and me – here like this.”

  I switch off the stove and turn to her. Every time I look at her I find it hard to believe she’s mine, I’ll never fail to be amazed by that detail. Or fail to appreciate it. Moving her back toward the island, I lift her up to sit her on it. “Is that a good weird or a bad weird?”