“Slow down, Emmet,” Anita said, wincing as one of the buttons on his shirt popped off and zoomed past her head. “We didn’t get a needle and thread.”
But Emmet didn’t slow down. He lost another button and got his pants’ zipper stuck, and after tugging at it for a bit, finally slid his khaki’s down over his hips, only to have them caught by his shoes. Anita thought she heard Emmet say a curse under his breath as he quickly turned and sat down on the end of the bed.
She started giggling as he tugged off his shoes and socks then stood up and kicked off his pants, then pulled down his boxers, kicking them away as well. Then he turned and almost dove on Anita, who let out a little shriek as he plummeted towards her, but he landed to the side of her, covering her mouth with a very passionate kiss as he worked his way on top of her and anxiously reached between his legs, shifted and slid his cock deep inside her with a groan, Anita letting out a cry as he hit bottom. His aim had gotten better.
Emmet still had his glasses on and they bumped painfully against the bridge of Anita’s nose as he practically consumed her mouth, hunching into the young woman strongly, riding Anita hard and hungrily. Emmet knew she wanted him…and how much. He had witnessed it for himself and he’d be damned if Anita didn’t get what she wanted.
“Oh God, Emmet,” Anita cried out as Emmet stroked her, groaning with pleasure, his face buried into her throat now, his slim body flexing for all he was worth.
He lifted his head, looking down at her as he stopped moving for a moment.
“Isn’t this what you want, Anita?” he asked her, breathing hard, his eyes hot.
Anita thought she might orgasm right then and there.
“Yes…yes, Emmet,” she gasped at him, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Emmet started fucking her again, and he was strong, he was good, he was…insatiable. Anita clung to him as he rippled over her body, his thick, hard cock plowing into her, his body becoming slick with sweat. Emmet didn’t seem interested in changing positions as he kissed her over and over, his mouth moving over her lips, face and throat as he took her. Then Anita’s pussy tightened around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he almost couldn’t continue…but he did, forcing his way through a few more times before she climaxed, her hot juices rolling over him and her nails digging into his back, triggering his own release.
“Nooooo!” Emmet howled, wanting to keep going, to keep driving into the beautiful young woman under him, stiffening, his eyes rolling upward and head tilting toward the ceiling as his seed blew through him, pouring into Anita pulse after delicious pulse.
Emmet shuddered and bucked against her body, his hips still thrusting, still trying to get that last bit of paradise between Anita’s thighs even as he deflated, kissing her desperately, Anita panting into his mouth.
Finally, Emmet fell still, his face buried in Anita’s hair, his breathing still heavy but quieting and his glasses lost someplace in the bed. Anita’s curves pressed up against his body and Emmet felt he was resting on the softest, most comfortable cushion that ever existed.
He let out a sigh.
“I didn’t want it to end yet, Anita,” he said to her softly, his voice muffled by her hair
Anita, a bit sore from Emmet’s ardor, turned her head slightly and smiled against his ear. Emmet could feel her smile. She was happy with him anyway.
“I’m kind of glad it ended, Emmet. You were really working me out,” she breathed, “I’m pretty sore from you.”
Emmet lifted his head and looked down at her, concern on his features.
”I’m sorry, Anita…I’ll be more careful…more considerate next time,” he said to her, his brown eyes seeming to search her face for signs of damage.
“It’s all right, Emmet. It was easy to see you were just too turned on. You just did what you felt. You weren’t trying to hurt me,” she said softly, caressing his hair, “I wonder how many buttons you lost on your shirt?”
“I have no idea,” he responded, staring down at her, his eyes full of affection. He kissed her again gently.
”I can’t imagine not having you in my life, Anita,” he said tenderly, “I can’t imagine it at all.”
Anita didn’t say anything. Emmet was just an open book…he had no idea that falling in love took time and effort…added up to something more than a few good fucks. She knew Emmet thought he was in love. God, he had so much to learn.
“You don’t like to hear me say things like that, do you Anita?” Emmet suddenly asked her.
Anita had phased out. Now, she looked at him.
“It’s not that I don’t like to hear them, Emmet. I just worry that you’re…you’re moving too fast. I’m the first woman you’ve ever had sex with and I know you are grateful and happy and feeling wonderful about me, but…but you need to realize that it’s just because it’s all so new to you that you feel this way. After you get used to me, or used to having sex…you won’t feel so many emotions…won’t feel the need to say all those…those personal things,” Anita tried to explain to him.
“I’ll always feel something when I’m inside of you, Anita…and when I’m not too,” he said to her softly. “Something wonderful and powerful…”
“Oh Emmet,” Anita said, hugging him. “You make me want to believe you.”
”Believe me, Anita,” he responded, loving the feel of her arms around him, “Believe me.”
The couple fell silent after that, and in a few minutes, asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms again, neither one…alone.
Chapter 34 ~ The Morning After
The next morning, Emmet woke up with an erection, Anita sleeping with her head resting on his shoulder. Licking his lips, Emmet slowly shifted to the side and gently rolled on top of the sleeping woman. Anita woke up instantly when she felt Emmet’s cock slide across her thigh towards her core.
“Whoa…whoa Emmet,” she said, turning her head slightly away from him.
“Anita, please…just a little bit?” Emmet whined at her.
Anita gave him a scowl…that wasn’t promising at all.
“No, Emmet. This is not a romance novel…this is real life. I’m sore down there, we both reek of old sex, and we haven’t brushed our teeth. I’m sorry you’re horny sweetie, but this doesn’t turn me on at all, and my body needs a break,” she told him.
Emmet gave her a hurt look and slid off her body, his cock still hard.
“I don’t care what we smell like,” he muttered.
“But I hurt too, Emmet,” she said softly.
Emmet looked at her, realizing that for a very selfish moment…he didn’t care she hurt. Damn. Did sex do this to all men? He apologized.
“I’m…I’m sorry Anita,” he said, “It’s like I wasn’t even thinking about how you felt. Only how I felt…how I feel,” he said.
Anita gave him a small smile.
“It’s how a lot of men are, Emmet. There’s a saying that a hard cock has no conscience,” she said to him, “or in some cases…a wet pussy.”
He considered this.
“I think the saying is true,” he stated, frowning down at his hard cock as if it had committed a social faux paux. Anita laughed and climbed over him, getting out of the bed. Emmet looked at her and let out a little groan.
“He still doesn’t have much conscience,” he complained, feeling like grabbing his organ and masturbating to ease his desire.
“Maybe if you pee, it will go down a bit,” Anita suggested.
Then her stomach growled loudly.
“Wow, I’m hungry,” she said, “I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
The moment Anita said it, Emmet felt his own pangs of hunger.
“Come on, Emmet. Let’s take a shower and have some breakfast,” Anita said, walking into the bathroom. Emmet rolled out of the bed and followed her, his erection leading the way. He entered to find Anita sitting on the toilet and backed out quickly.
Anita laughed as he disappeared.
“Emmet,” she called, “You�
�ve fucked me, you’ve seen me play with a dildo…seeing me pee isn’t anything compared to that, silly!”
Emmet reappeared in the doorway, watching Anita wipe, toss the tissue in the toilet and flush. She then opened the shower door and turned it on, mixing the water. Emmet walked over to the bowl and tried to piss, but found he couldn’t with Anita standing outside the shower. He still wasn’t used to her like this.
Anita glanced at him, standing in front of the toilet, holding his cock and looking down at it with nothing happening. She smirked, got into the shower and closed the door.
Relief flooded through Emmet as he urinated. Shaking himself off, he flushed the toilet, walked over to the shower, opened it and got in…standing behind Anita as she washed her body under the spray. His erection had gone down slightly, but now re-established itself as Emmet’s eyes rested on her wet body, water rolling over her shoulders and cascading between between her breasts as she faced him.
“Switch,” Anita said, moving past Emmet and letting him under the spray.
Anita watched as Emmet bathed himself, the water running over his head and down his back, over his slim muscular ass. She drew in a breath as he soaped himself, then turned to face her, reaching around and doing his back, his cock sticking out towards her. She could see the hunger in his eyes, as well as the acceptance that there wouldn’t be any sex between them.
She began to lower herself, when Emmet caught her under the arms and stopped her.
“No Anita…not this time,” he said.
Emmet loved when Anita blew him, he really did…but it seemed one-sided. He had tried to take her selfishly…he didn’t mean to, it was a purely physical reaction to her closeness…but Emmet felt as if he needed to make it up to her. As if he needed to put Anita first.
“You hurt,” he said softly, beginning to kneel himself, his hands on her waist.
Anita watched him, her eyes liquid as Emmet slowly dropped to his knees, water pouring over him. He hesitated for a moment as his eyes locked with her pubic hair, then he gently lifted her leg, positioning it over his shoulder.
“Oh, Emmet,” Anita breathed, shuddering as he lowered and twisted his head to reach her core and gently ran his tongue between her labia. Her hands went to his head for balance as Emmet began to lick her softly. There was no taste because she had just washed…but there was softness and connection. Not to mention pleasure as Anita sighed.
And that was what Emmet wanted…Anita to feel pleasure, pleasure from him, from his ministrations…from his desire to be what she wanted…not only what she wanted…but what she needed. Fulfilling her made him feel whole. Anita had no idea of her effect on him.
Emmet used his mouth as a balm, soothing Anita’s outward ache, his mouth gentle, hungry and paying homage to her sexuality, her femininity…her womanhood. Anita sighed with pleasure, her head tilted back, her eyes half-lidded as Emmet bathed her core gently until he received the response he wanted, a gentle tightening, a hot flow that eased from her, a climax that was soft, yet powerful.
Emmet could taste her now, the secret part of her flowing like a slow stream, and he sucked gently, swallowing her essence down as if it were an absolution.
“Emmet, oh Emmet,” Anita sighed, caressing his soaked head as he withdrew and removed her leg from his shoulder. He rose and slid his arms around her waist, drawing Anita close and kissing her.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, Anita…but I love you. I know I do. I don’t care if I’ve never been with anyone else…no one could ever replace you. No one,” he breathed passionately, kissing her again, water flowing over both of them.
Anita let out a small sigh when Emmet released her from his kiss. He was so stubborn. He had nothing to compare this to…nothing to correct him. He was pussy-whipped, plain and simple…believing this to be love.
“Emmet, let’s get out. I’m starving,” she said to him. Emmet gave her one more kiss, then released her, watching as Anita opened the shower door and exit…then following her. They both dried off, then took turns brushing their teeth.
They exited the bathroom, both wrapped in towels. Again, Emmet was forced to put on what he wore the night before, as Anita dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and a sweatshirt, her damp hair falling over her shoulders.
They had Captain Crunch for breakfast…both too hungry to wait to cook. They polished off half the box in one sitting, smiling over their bowls at each other as they ate. Anita collected the bowls and put them in the sink, Emmet watching her affectionately.
He stood up and walked over to her, taking Anita into his arms and kissing her, his brown eyes alight with emotion.
“I have to go pack,” he said shortly.
Anita nodded.
“I’ll be back by this afternoon, then I’ll take you food shopping. Do you want me to help you put the rest of this stuff away?” he asked, gesturing toward the boxes on the couch.
Anita shook her head.
“No, I’ll be fine Emmet. Just pack up and get back here,” she said softly.
Emmet kissed her twice more as they moved toward the front door. It was easy to see he was reluctant to leave. Anita opened the door and pushed him through, his shirt showing gaps from the lost buttons beneath his jacket.
“I’ll see you later, Emmet,” Anita said to him, her eyes shining.
“Bye Anita,” Emmet responded as she slowly closed the door.
He drew in a deep breath, smiled, then headed out the front door.
Life was good.
*
John Bowen opened his eyes and rolled over. He could already hear the sounds of people outside his motel room. Well, that was to be expected. Drug dealers and prostitutes had early mornings…most not sleeping through the night.
John yawned, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back luxuriously. He blinked up at the ceiling. There was no way to locate Anita today, so he was on his own. Already he had the taste for a cold brew. He rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. A piss, a shower and he’d be good to go.
Forty-five minutes later, John exited his room. A number of eyes fell on him as he looked about. A dealer, Johnny Dread, a heavyset, darkskinned black man with dreadlocks eyed the white man for a moment, then returned his attention to the crackhead girls begging him for a hit.
“You’re all some nasty bitches,” he said to them, smirking as they begged to differ.
John walked through the parking lot. A couple of doors down he saw a diner. He was hungry, so started walking toward it. As he weaved his way through the parking lot, he was stopped by a young girl who couldn’t be more than seventeen.
“Hey mister, you got a dollar?” she asked him, her brown eyes wide.
John stopped and looked at her. She was a pretty girl…a bit underweight, brown-skinned with dark, long curling hair. She wore jeans and a short white mid-riff shirt.
“I might,” he said to her, “You want some breakfast? Maybe I’ll get you something good afterwards.”
The girl looked at him and nodded.
“Come on then,” he said gruffly, striding toward the diner. The girl followed.
John knew by the desperation in her eyes that the girl was hooked on drugs. But she didn’t look too bad, and he had to occupy his Sunday somehow. He walked into the diner and took a seat, the girl sliding on the stool beside him.
“You like pancakes?” he asked her, his brown eyes washing over her slim body.
The girl nodded.
John ordered two pancake breakfasts with milk, then turned to the girl.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“Maria,” she replied.
“You smoke crack?”
Maria paused a moment, then said in a small voice, “Yes.”
”You be a good girl and I’ll get you some,” he said to her, “But you have to smoke it in my room.”
Maria nodded eagerly. He didn’t look too bad. At least he was clean.
The waitress returned with their fo
od, and John and Maria ate quietly…Maria practically inhaling her food. It was obvious she hadn’t eaten in a while.
When they finished, both walked back to the motel. John reached into his pocket and pulled out twenty dollars. He gave it to Maria.
“Go buy what you want, then come back to my room. You can always leave, but I might buy you more. It’s up to you,” he said, walking back to his room and letting himself in.
Maria looked after him for a moment, then walked through the cars in the parking lot and over to Johnny Dread.
“I need a jumbo,” she said to him, holding out the twenty dollars.
Johnny looked at her for a moment, then around the parking lot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a baggie of small white rocks. He shuffled through them, then picked out a large one.
“Pow!” he said, dropping it into her palm. “White man paying for this?”
Maria nodded, passing him the twenty dollar bill. Johnny pulled a roll of bills out of his front pocket and added the twenty to it, placing it back in his pocket.
“Take care of him. Seems like he could be a good customer,” Johnny said.
Maria nodded and quickly walked back to the motel, knocking on John’s door and being let in. Johnny narrowed his eyes as he watched her enter.
Maybe this white man had money. He’d keep his eye on him.
Maybe he could get it all at once.
*
John let Maria in, walked over to the bed, sat down on the edge of it and held out his hand.
“Let me see what you got,” he said to the young woman.
Maria reluctantly dropped the stone in his hand, then bent over, pulled up her pants leg and took her glass pipe and bic lighter out of her sock, ready for use.
John studied the rock, then looked up at Maria.
“Before I give you a hit of this, I want you to go take a shower,” he said to her.
Maria protested. She was ready for a hit now.
“Go take a shower!” John snarled at her.
Maria stared at him for a moment, then put her paraphernalia on the dresser and walked into the bathroom, closing the door.
“And I mean wash good!” John called to her, setting the rock on the dresser, pulling out his knife, opening it and cutting the rock into about eight pieces as the shower turned on.
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