“I thought this would be a subtle way of inviting you to have dinner with me.”
She smirks. “Or a sure way to get me to wonder if you’re having someone else as a guest tonight.”
I walk over and stand behind her, my hands slipping around her waist to her front. “Is that what you really thought?” I whisper in her ear as I bury my face in her hair.
“Maybe.”
I groan without saying anything.
She tilts her head to one side as I kiss her neck. “I’m the only guest, right?”
“Maybe.”
She grabs my arm and squeezes. “Better be.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really, why?”
“Let’s go for a run.”
She looks down, then quickly back up. “I don’t have my running shoes.”
“You’re not going to need them on the beach. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
She takes her shoes and socks off. We go out to the porch, walk down the long wood part over the dunes, and then down to the beach.
It’s windy, and her hair is down so it’s blowing wildly, some of it sticking to her mouth. She pulls it back and twists it behind her head.
“This way,” I say, and we run down the waterline where the mud is more firm than the sand. We head toward the lighthouse.
“I usually run on concrete,” she says. “This is so different.”
“You’ve lived near the beach all your life and you’ve never run on it?”
“Nope.”
“Well, now you see what you’re missing. Barefoot running is getting big.”
“It’s a fad.”
I look over at her. “I know you’re into advertising, but you sound like a shoe company shill saying that.”
“At this point, I’d say anything for a job in advertising.”
I drop the subject. I know how much she wants that to happen. It strikes me how we’re seeing the career part of a life from two different perspectives. She’s looking ahead and dreaming of great things; I’m looking back and wanting to leave it all behind.
We dodge people heading for the water, split our paths around a few kids making a mud castle right along the waterline, and take a short detour out of our otherwise straight path when we get to a line of large rocks that start halfway in the sand and extend out into the ocean.
We run silently until we get to the lighthouse.
“That’s three quarters of a mile,” I say.
Neither of us is out of breath. I’m only lightly sweating, and I can see she is too. It would be worse in this late afternoon humidity if it weren’t for the stiff wind coming in off the water. I taste the salt on my lips and I want to taste it on hers, too. But I think she’d freak out a little, with us being out in the open and the possibility of one of her co-workers seeing her.
“Head back?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah. This was good.”
We get halfway back and she says, “Race you.”
“What?”
“Let’s race.”
I laugh. She’s serious, though, and I like the playfulness on her face and in her eyes. “Do you need a head start?”
“Ha ha. No.” She does this weird thing where she’s running almost sideways, facing me. It catches me off guard for a few seconds. And then she says, “Go!”
She takes off full-speed and I push off, trying to catch her.
I don’t catch her. She’s hauling ass like she’s in a horror movie, running from a monster.
She gets to the steps of my bungalow porch well before I do.
“Best out of three?” I say when I reach her.
She laughs. “A silver medal is nothing to be ashamed of.” She jogs up the steps and I follow her, eager to get her alone.
. . . . .
We use the outside shower to wash our feet and legs before going inside.
I tease her, playing with her shirt like I’m going to take it off.
“Not out here,” she says. “Maybe some other time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“You’d better.”
We get inside and take a real shower, massaging the body wash on each other’s skin, rinsing each other, and somehow, miraculously, we avoid fucking.
But as soon as we get out, I quickly dry her with a towel, then dry myself, and I can’t stand this any longer.
She laughs and makes a little bit of a squealing noise as I swing my arms under her legs and lift her. I carry her out of the bathroom and over to the bed.
I lay her down on her back, her arms at her side until she pulls them up over her chest, almost like she’s being defensive. I look at her for a moment until she moves them again. She just doesn’t know what to do with them, that’s all.
“This isn’t going to be a quickie.”
Kissing her ankle and laying her leg back down, my mouth trails up to her calf. I plant little kisses on her skin, occasionally stopping to suck on her smooth flesh. It’s warm from the shower, and she tastes so fresh.
She parts her legs a little as I move up her thighs. I look up her body to meet her eyes that are looking back at me. “You’re eager.”
She grins and nods a little.
I run my tongue along her thighs. I’m on all fours above her, partially lying on her, and my cock is hard against her foot.
It’s been a long time since I’ve taken my time like this with a woman. I feel like a guy who’s been denied food for a long time and has found a feast. My craving for this type of sex is crazier than I thought.
I tease her with my finger, feeling her getting wetter as I play with her.
“Did you like what we did the other day?”
She nods.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Her lips open a little before any sound comes out, but she finally speaks. “I loved what we did.”
I kiss the insides of her thighs, alternating between left and right.
“You drove me crazy when you were here this morning.”
“I did?”
“Yes. I had to distract myself from thinking about you coming on my tongue again.”
She closes her eyes and lets out a deep sigh, arching her back and throwing her head back as my tongue makes a sudden and hungry contact with her clit. She’s so wet, so ready.
I have no intention of making her come like this right now, but she doesn’t know that. So I play with her a little, then stop, kissing up her body and grazing my tongue and teeth over her nipples as I talk to her.
“When you bought the condoms the other day, what were you thinking?”
She’s silent as I take one of her nipples in my mouth, my lips sucking hard on it, my tongue teasing it.
I let it go with a wet sound and say, “Tell me.”
“I…I wondered if you were having a guest.”
Her answer surprises me. I look up at her face. I’ve taken her other nipple in my mouth and I let it go. “They’re for us,” I say, my voice probably coming out a little more sternly than I had planned.
It’s the second time she’s indicated that she thinks I am doing something with another girl. She’d mentioned it regarding the food and now this. Both on the same day that she made it clear she doesn’t want anything serious.
Do I sense a little insecurity or jealousy in her? Maybe. But I’m not going to try to figure that out right now…
Her neck is soft under my lips. I run my tongue along the outer edge of her ear and whisper, “Touch me.”
She doesn’t hesitate to reach down and I feel both of her hands are wrapped around my cock. She’s touching it lightly, softly, like she’s exploring it.
I sit up. She looks at my chest—even sees the tattoo on my shoulder, but pays no attention to it—then her eyes drift down to her hands working me.
Reaching over and opening a bedside drawer, I remove a condom and sit back up.
“Are you ready?”
She nods.
“Have you ever been tied up?�
�
She stills. Her facial expression goes blank, and freezes. Her hands are still on me, but she’s not playing anymore. “No.”
Her panties are on the floor next to the bed. I saw them when we got out of the shower. I reach down for them and hold them up. “Want to try it?”
“With those?”
“These will do for now.”
Her answer comes faster than I’d expected. I anticipated a hesitation, maybe even a no, but she quickly says: “Yes.”
I lift her arms over her head and loop her panties through the iron bars on the headboard, then around her wrists a couple of times, twisting to tighten them just enough to hold her hands in place.
“Okay?”
She nods.
The sight before me is astonishing. Beautiful, intriguing Audrey, bound to my bed. Her face has a blank look on it, she’s not sure what to expect. Her eyes are trained on mine until I look down and see her chest rising and falling. She’s breathing a little heavily in anticipation.
There’s an ache in me now as my cock grows harder than I can remember it being in a long time. Maybe as long as it’s taken me to be able to do this again since the last time. She has no idea about the significance of this moment for me. I’m about to say something to let her know, but I don’t want to talk anymore. I just want to do this.
As I roll the condom on, I wonder what’s going through that mind of hers….
Chapter Eleven
Audrey
Adam is not even inside me yet, but already I feel like I haven’t known sex until this moment. The way he practically worships my body, giving attention to nearly every inch of me, raising my anticipation.
He takes his time. He concentrates on my pleasure as much as his. What a difference from what I’m used to.
There was no way I was going to say no to this. As much as it surprised me, as much as my mind was telling me to be hesitant, the fact that he talked to me about it convinced me it would be okay. He was making sure I was comfortable, physically and mentally, for this.
I watch him roll the condom down his impressive length. There it is again, the second time I’ve seen him touching himself. That’s a new thing for me, too. He’s so open, so confident, so free, it makes me respond the same way.
He leans over me again, one hand planted on the mattress next to my raised arm, the other still holding himself.
He lowers his face to mine and kisses me. His lips and tongue are soft but I keep feeling a little bit of his teeth, adding a little roughness to his kisses. And then his tongue sweeps through my mouth.
Adam is holding himself against me, rubbing the tip against my clit. If he keeps this up for more than ten seconds, I’m going to come and I don’t want to yet.
He raises up a little. “I want to see your face when I’m inside you for the first time.”
“Please, just do it.” I’m surprised at myself. Not by what I said, but by the obvious begging tone in the words.
He grins. He likes the begging.
“You’re so wet for me, I could do this all night.”
I close my eyes. I’m losing the ability to think straight. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. Every nerve ending in my body is reacting to this moment. My hips start to move along with his cock rubbing me. I open my eyes again and he’s looking down at me.
He slides the head of his cock into me. Just a little, then more, then back out again. It’s been over a year since I’ve had sex, and there’s a little sharp pain that quickly subsides.
Our eyes are locked on each other’s. His lips are slightly parted at first, then he presses them together and his whole face turns to stone. His jaw muscles tense on each side of his face.
With each stroke, he pushes a little more into me. Adam’s hand slides under me and he cups my ass, pulling me closer against his body.
“You’re so tight, Audrey. You’re fucking perfect.”
He starts rocking his hips into a rhythm, pulling me more forcefully against him. I can feel the panties constricting my wrists a little more with each of Adam’s thrusts. There’s a slight pain there, but it’s not bad. It’s just making me aware of the position I’m in.
I’m so exposed. So vulnerable to him. He has complete control over my movements. Total power over my pleasure.
Adam pulls his hand from behind me, propping himself up with both arms now. He’s moving his hips back and forth but at the same time it feels like he’s moving them in an upward direction.
He’s hitting every spot I need him to. And I think it’s obvious by my wide open mouth and my little involuntary gasps.
“You keep making that face and those noises, I’m going to come faster than I want to.”
I manage a breathy: “No,” and bite my lip, trying to stop from making the noises he’s talking about.
“Do you ever touch yourself when you’re fucking?”
I nod vigorously.
“But you can’t now, all tied up.”
He rises so he’s sitting between my legs. I feel his thumb or finger on my clit. I look at him and he’s looking down, watching himself making little circles with his finger.
The sensation feels like it’s connected to every fiber of my body, and with each of his movements, it’s pulling on me, making me squirm and jerk on the bed, making my panties tighter around my wrists.
“That’s it. Come for me, Audrey. Come all over my cock.”
There’s no resisting it any longer. I don’t want to. My body is making movements I’m not controlling—my hips thrusting against him, my stomach muscles winding up into knots, my ankles locking behind his back and pulling him forcefully into me.
Crying out his name, I start to come. I can’t open my eyes. They’re squeezed shut and I know I’m making a wincing face that probably could be mistaken for pain, but it’s all pleasure—pure ecstasy as I’ve never felt before, never even imagined possible.
I’m still in the throes of my orgasm as I feel Adam fucking me harder, driving into me. His breathing becomes heavy and he lets out a quick, sharp “Fuck” as I feel him pulsing inside me. My muscles are clenched, making me even tighter, and it’s like I’m massaging him closer and closer…
My eyes open just in time to see him throw his head back. His mouth is closed. His jaw is all hard lines. The cords in his neck are exposed. He’s sliding back and forth inside me slower now, as his heads drops to my chest and he takes one of my nipples into his mouth.
Seconds later, he pulls out, removes the condom, ties off the end and tosses it in the direction of the trash can.
Adam reaches for my wrists and unties the panties, slipping them off my hands and dropping them.
He lies beside me, wrapping one arm over me. I turn to face him and he pulls me in. We’re both warm, both catching our breath. Both staring at each other.
“You okay?” His voice is a whisper.
I nod.
“I mean your wrists. Let me see them.” He reaches for them and inspects. “Doesn’t hurt?”
“No.”
We lay there for a few minutes as he uses both hands to rub my wrists. They really don’t hurt, but there’s an odd feeling on my skin as the blood flow returns to normal. His hands are strong and somewhat rough, but he’s massaging my wrists softly.
I touch his tattoo. It says “11/6/12” and has a music note next to it. “What’s this?”
“It’s the day I wrote the best song I’ve ever written.”
I sit up a little. “Wait, so you don’t just play music, you write it?”
He nods.
I lay back down. “Now you have to play something for me.”
“I will.”
I want to tell him what I’m thinking. The word “amazing” is so overused, it doesn’t work here. Same with “incredible.” I think for a few seconds and just say exactly what’s on my mind. “That was the most intense thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
He grins, like he wants to say something, like he knows something I don’t. H
e kisses me and rolls onto his back, pulling me close to him. I lay my head on his chest, looking at his face.
I wait for him to speak.
After a moment, he says, “Can you stay for dinner or did we take up all of your time?”
I sit up quickly. “Oh shit.”
. . . . .
A few minutes later, I leave his house and walk down the street where I parked my car after leaving work. I couldn’t leave it at the office or park it at his house, for obvious reasons, so I chose a visitor lot that charged three dollars.
I would have liked to stay and had dinner with Adam, but I need to get home to Sophie.
Just as I sit in my car, I suddenly realize I don’t have my phone. I’m about to go back to Adam’s, one foot out the door and on the asphalt, when it occurs to me that I didn’t bring it with me to Adam’s. After work, I had plugged it in to charge and in the excitement of going to his place I just forgot about it. Shit. It’s in the office.
Jeanine will be there, but she’ll have no idea where I’ve been. I’ll just tell her I got home and realized it.
I walk into the office and immediately I hear, “I thought you left for the day.”
“I did.” I see my phone on the desk near the back of the room. I walk over, grab it, and hold it up. “Forgot this.”
Jeanine is sitting at the reception table organizing brochures. I want to get out of here quickly, so I walk with purpose toward the door, turning on my phone.
“Your sister called.”
I stop suddenly and turn around. “When?”
“The first time was about an hour ago, and then again about ten minutes ago.”
Looking at my phone, I’m surprised by how much time has passed since I left the office for Adam’s bungalow. I can’t believe it’s after eight o’clock.
I see missed calls and texts from Sophie. I quickly text her that I’m on my way home and she responds immediately: Can you get McDonald’s?
I respond: Sure, even though it’s not something we normally do and Mom wouldn’t be happy about it. But I owe Sophie.
Jeanine grabs a stack of brochures and holds them upright, then taps them on the table.
The Rider List: An Erotic Romance Page 8