Sensational

by Janet Nissenson

  “Did your parents – did you take medication?”

  “No.” The denial was firmly issued. “God bless my mother because she set her foot down with every doctor and therapist and teacher we encountered. She flat out refused to shove Ritalin or Adderall down my throat, swore that she’d home school me before that ever happened. Instead, she and my dad did all the research, talked to a bunch of experts, and found alternative therapies.”

  “Like martial arts, for example?”

  “Yes. And it was a lifeline for me, Ben. My first teacher – the one I got the tattoo in honor of – he intimidated the hell out of me. Yamashiro Sensei was probably only an inch or two taller than I am now, and not a whole lot heavier. But it would usually just take one look from him, and I’d be like a little soldier in his presence. Martial arts helped a lot with the ADHD, as did sports and then photography. My Uncle Mal would drag me along with him on these day long hikes through the Ventana Wilderness or Point Lobos and teach me how to take the perfect shot, to learn patience. There were other therapies, too, more traditional, and I eventually learned how to keep it in check. But it’s a constant struggle, especially at college, and I will be the happiest person in the world when I don’t have to take another exam or write another paper ever again.”

  Ben’s arms tightened about her fiercely, deeply touched by what she’d just shared with him, how she had trusted him enough to confess her secrets, and especially how she’d allowed him to glimpse her vulnerability. “You don’t have to ace exams or write twenty page term papers to be considered brilliant, you know,” he assured her. “From the first second I saw you, Lauren, I’ve been dazzled by you. And your ADHD is just part of who you are. Besides,” he added wickedly, his hand caressing the bare skin of her upper back, “I’d much rather dig for worms and climb trees than attend a tea party. Especially one where the guest list includes stuffed toys.”

  It was exactly the right thing to say to her, as evidenced by the way she laughed joyously and gave him a loud, smacking kiss – a kiss that very quickly became seeking, hungry, then frantic.

  He groaned as his hand slid up beneath the halter top to encounter a warm, bare breast. “Do you, ah, own any bras?” he rasped, his finger tweaking her nipple until she was squirming in arousal.

  “Dozens,” she murmured, as her hands untied the halter top and tossed it onto the deck. She gasped as he squeezed her full, swollen breast roughly. “Doesn’t mean – ahh, that’s good! – that I like to wear them.”

  “Christ.” He bent his head and licked a slow, arousing circle around one pale pink nipple. “You must drive the guys at college crazy, strutting around campus with these tits bouncing up and down all day. It would be worth going back to school just so I could see you walk by every day. And you can bet,” he growled in her ear, his hand slipping inside the low waistband of her white terry shorts, “that I’d be doing my damnedest to get inside your pants on a regular basis.”

  Lauren moaned as his fingers brushed aside the flimsy fabric of her white silk thong and then slid inside of her body. “You, ah, wouldn’t have to do very much,” she told him raggedly. “In fact, for you, Blue Eyes, I’d walk around without pants on. Or any other articles of clothing, for that matter.”

  “Good to know,” he muttered harshly. “And no time like the present.”

  With one decisive motion, he stripped the shorts and thong from her body, and then pulled her into place until she was straddling his lap. His dick was pushing insistently against his zipper, begging to be set free and then confined again – this time inside her snug little cunt.

  She squirmed impatiently on his lap, trying her best to alternately tug his T-shirt off or attack his zipper. But he was determined this time to take total control of things, to slow it down and savor the experience, to seduce her – though he honestly wasn’t sure if the latter was a real possibility or simply a wild fantasy.

  “Easy, sweetheart,” he soothed, capturing her hands in his and drawing them to his lips. “It doesn’t have to be a race, you know. Let me enjoy having a hot, naked babe on my lap for a few minutes, hmm? Just for this one time,” he cajoled persuasively, “let yourself surrender.”

  “Ben – no, I - ”

  But the protest stuck in her throat as he kissed her slowly, with long, sensuous swoops of his tongue. One of his hands slid to the back of her head, holding it still, while the other roved freely over her body – cupping her breast, squeezing her ass, brushing tantalizingly over her clit before finally sliding two fingers back inside of her, where she was slick and hot, and he could smell how aroused he was. He was torn between jerking down his zipper and shoving his cock inside that tight, creamy cunt, or laying her down on the narrow rattan settee and licking her up like the most decadent dessert ever created.

  But when Lauren howled in protest as he began to ease his fingers away, he kept them in place, pumping them in and out of her with rapid movements until he felt her pelvic walls begin to spasm and she cried out in release.

  Even in the dark of night, with only the dimmed deck lighting to provide illumination, Ben could see how brightly her green eyes were glittering as he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside her still-clenching pussy and brought them to his lips.

  “Mmm.” He smacked his lips with an exaggerated gesture. “Delicious. Tell you what, sweetheart. You can keep those brownies for yourself because you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  Lauren grabbed his wrist and brought his fingers to her mouth, sucking the middle digit between her lips. “Hmm, kind of salty, actually,” she murmured. “Not all that different from the way you taste. Speaking of which.”

  “Uh, uh.” His fingers clamped firmly around her wrist as she tried to unzip his jeans. “Not now, sweetheart. Not when I’m this fucking hard. You’d only have to touch me – one little fingertip – and it’d be over with in about two seconds.” He drew her hand to his lips, this time sucking her fingers into his mouth. “And I want it to last a whole lot longer than that. I want to fuck you for hours. Starting like this.”

  He lifted her nude, curvy body off his lap and then brought her over to the edge of the deck. He placed her hands on the railing before smacking her lightly on the ass.

  “Hold on to that railing,” he instructed in a husky voice. “Don’t let go no matter what. Bend over now, keep that gorgeous little butt up in the air for me.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied sarcastically, wiggling her ass in deliberate provocation.

  Ben chuckled as he shucked his clothes in record time, then stepped in until he was standing directly behind her. “Good girl,” he whispered in her ear, his hand slipping around the front of her body to tweak her nipple. “Keep doing what you’re told now and I won’t have to spank you.”

  Lauren snorted in derision. “As if that’s ever going to happen. Look, you can play at being the big, bad Master all you like but there will be no spanking, no – mmph!”

  He grinned wickedly as he secured Lauren’s discarded halter top around the back of her head, the cotton garment making quite an effective gag. He ran his hand down the curve of her spine to pinch her ass cheek.

  “You didn’t say no gagging,” he taunted teasingly. “Now, relax, hmm? Relax and enjoy and – surrender.”

  Each time they fucked, Ben didn’t think he could possibly want her more, didn’t believe that his cock could feel any harder. But as he worked himself inside of her tight, juicy cunt one slow, delicious inch at a time, he thought that surely his dick was an inch or two longer and wider than normal, and definitely a whole lot harder. As he sunk himself fully within her welcoming body, the groan he emitted threatened to echo for miles around. And even though Lauren had assured him repeatedly each time they’d had outdoor sex – on the too-small settee, or on a deck chair, in the hot tub – that no one could possibly hear them, Ben had yet to be completely convinced.

  But now, as he began to fuck her in earnest with deep, rapid thrusts, he wouldn’t have given a damn
if a hundred people were gathered around to watch them. It was too good, too unbelievably satisfying for anything to make him stop, and from the muffled sounds Lauren was making beneath her improvised gag, she was feeling the same way.

  He wanted this to last for hours, to keep fucking her all night long, but he was too aroused, too needy, and he felt his release approaching like a runaway train despite his efforts to slow it down. At the last minute, he jerked the gag away, grasping her chin between his fingers and tilting it back to meet his blistering, demanding kiss.

  The orgasm almost knocked him off his feet, and he had to band an arm around Lauren’s waist to hold her upright, her legs shaking beneath the force of his thrusts.

  And when they did eventually sink to their knees, their arms wrapped tightly around each other while they struggled to regain control of their equally ragged breathing, Ben longed for time to freeze in place at this exact moment, knowing he would never want to be anywhere else but right here – with this beautiful, enchanting woman entwined around him.

  Unfortunately for him, time not only didn’t stand still but went by far too quickly for his liking.

  Chapter Four

  In the end, he stayed with her for ten days, more than twice as long as he’d originally planned to remain in the area. But every time he thought about moving on, driving south to the next stop on his itinerary, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted more than anything to stay here forever – in this wild, rugged coastal town that he’d felt an instant affinity with; in this cabin that after less than two weeks already felt more like home to him than either of his parents’ houses back in Ohio ever had; and with this beautiful girl who was really still in the first throes of womanhood, the girl who could easily be “the one” for him, his soulmate, his once in a lifetime.

  They had never actually talked about how much time they would have together before he needed to move on to his next stop along the route. And neither of them had ever once mentioned the future, where they went from here, or tried to define exactly what this relationship of theirs was or could be. They seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement to live in the moment, to enjoy each precious minute they spent together, and not to think beyond the next hour or two.

  And enjoyment was exactly the right word to describe the past ten days. They had managed to cram a year’s worth of living – of memories – into a scant week and a half. Each day with Lauren was an adventure, a crazy, madcap experience, and that was saying a lot for someone like Ben, who’d already traveled to every continent except Antarctica and frequently engaged in extreme sports like mountain biking, rock climbing, ocean kayaking, and snowboarding. He’d gone bungee jumping in New Zealand, on safari in Kenya, and climbed to the top of Mount Aconcagua in Argentina. But his time with Lauren had been far more exhilarating and definitely more memorable than any of his previous experiences.

  She’d continued to drag him out surfing with her each morning until he was able to stay upright on the board for nearly a minute at a time. And he’d learned that most of the guys who flirted with her so outrageously had all grown up with her, and they were more than happy to welcome Ben into their close-knit circle.

  Lauren had taken him for hikes on several of the trails her Uncle Malcolm had first introduced her to as a young girl. And while the hikes had been challenging, over some very technical terrain, it had actually been the drives up to a couple of the more remote trailheads that had scared the shit out of him. Lauren had insisted on driving, and she’d maneuvered that beast of a pickup truck as though it were a Formula One race car. During the drives along a series of dusty, unpaved roads with more than their fair share of steep grades and hairpin turns, Ben had alternately shut his eyes, clutched the roll bar for dear life, and dredged up some long forgotten prayers. He’d exited the truck on wobbly legs, almost kissing the ground in relief, and thanking the stars above that they had made it this far in one piece.

  The hikes themselves had been amazing, and for most of the time they hadn’t come across another soul. With the camera Lauren had insisted on giving him – after a series of protests on his part and stubborn rebuttals on hers – he’d snapped dozens, hundreds, of shots to accompany his article. Lauren had packed snacks and drinks into their backpacks, along with a space blanket so that they could have an impromptu picnic along the trail. And in between sips of soda and bites of peanut butter sandwiches, the little minx had brazenly stripped off her clothes before tumbling him onto his back. His rather feeble protests about someone walking past had quickly been swallowed up beneath the sweet pressure of her lips on his.

  Then, with the warm summer sun beating down on their naked bodies, they’d fucked with unrepentant hunger right there on the hard, rocky trail, the thin, unsubstantial blanket providing precious little cushioning. Back at the cabin, he’d winced when the spray of the hot shower had pounded down on a dozen or more bruises and scrapes, but the discomfort had been quickly forgotten when Lauren had joined him in the spacious stall. Her small, soapy hands had stroked his cock persuasively until he’d groaned in arousal and spun her around, shoving her up against the smooth granite shower wall before thrusting inside of her.

  And he’d somehow let her persuade him into letting her drive the motorcycle. Surprisingly, perhaps because it was unfamiliar to her, Lauren had driven the bike with considerably more care than she had the truck, and he’d been slightly less terrified as he’d ridden just behind her.

  He’d discovered that she went through her martial arts exercises religiously each day, and after a couple of days watching her out on the deck as she smoothly executed a complex series of punches, kicks, spins, leaps, and arms balances, Ben had experienced a renewed interest in the practice. Lauren had been delighted to have a sparring partner, and he’d been pleasantly surprised at how quickly his training had come back.

  There had been quieter times, too, like the twice daily walks with her parents’ dogs, the three Australian Shepherds all seeming to have boundless energy. Ben’s favorites were the sunset strolls along the beach, accessed by a secret, mostly hidden set of wooden steps that had been built into the hillside just beneath the cabin. He and Lauren would hold hands or link arms, taking turns throwing sticks for the dogs. Even Lauren would be uncharacteristically quiet during these times, saying little, but words never seemed to be necessary.

  And despite her earlier protests that she wasn’t much of an artist, he discovered that she hadn’t been entirely truthful on that score. More than once he’d come upon her out on the deck, or perched along the bluff top with a large sketchpad and charcoal pencil in hand. With a renowned artist for a mother, and a famed architect for a father, Ben wasn’t the least surprised to note that Lauren had real talent of her own. She sketched whatever took her fancy – a tree, one of the dogs, a seagull, him. She’d torn the page from the sketchpad and handed it to him rather impulsively, mumbling “Here. It’s not the greatest, and you can just trash it if you want to. No big deal.”

  But he knew that he’d keep the remarkably good likeness of himself forever, would always cherish it. Like the woman herself, Lauren’s sketches were on the wild, unconventional side, the edges a little rough, but the overall result both unique and breathtaking.

  He’d never come close to being in love before, had never even had an actual relationship with a woman – at least not one that had progressed past the point of fucking like rabbits for a day or two before moving on. And, frankly, he’d yet to meet a woman who’d made him think about things like commitment or putting down roots or falling in love. But even though such ideas were completely foreign to him, Ben realized pretty quickly that he’d fallen in love with Lauren – deeply so. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – tell her how he felt, however. Oh, not because he feared she didn’t return his feelings, despite the fact that she’d also remained silent on the matter. Lauren would always be the sort of person who wore her heart on her sleeve, who would never be able to keep her emotions bottled up inside, or hold anythin
g back. And even though she had yet to utter the words – oddly, perhaps, because she was still old-fashioned enough to want him to say them first – Ben knew she was as crazy about him as he was about her.

  No, the reason he didn’t dare to discuss his feelings – or the future – with her was because he knew for her own good that he couldn’t figure into her plans. If they were to try and continue seeing each other after it was time for him to move on, it would only destroy the brilliant future Lauren had in store for her, and because of that so, too, would their love eventually be damaged beyond repair.

  It had been the most difficult – and, he hoped, unselfish – decision he’d ever had to make in his life thus far. And, up until yesterday, Ben had still been trying desperately to find a way – any way – for he and Lauren to remain together in some way or another. Sure, he had to finish up this article, but maybe after that he could find a way to move to Los Angeles. He knew Lauren rented a house with several other students, and given that he had precious few belongings of his own, he’d wondered if she would be agreeable to sharing her room with him. He’d find some sort of job – it didn’t really matter what – just until she graduated next year. And after that – well, after that the world could be their oyster.

  Lauren had listened with something akin to wonder as he’d told her about the places he had traveled to thus far, then quizzed him in great detail about his visits to Australia, Brazil, Morocco, and even Cuba. She’d told him then of the top five places on her bucket list to see one day – Patagonia, India, Iceland, Bora Bora, and the Swiss Alps. Ben had let his imagination – and his emotions – run a little wild as he pictured the two of them traveling around the world together. Lauren would take the photos while he wrote the accompanying articles, and they would sell their stories to travel magazines, websites, blogs, and maybe even publish their own travel guides. It would be amazing, a never-ending adventure, and life would be good, so much more than he’d ever hoped to have, so long as his beloved Lauren was always by his side.