by Liv Bennett
“How do you want it then?” I ask.
Her thumb brushes over my lips. I can’t help but kiss its pad. She grins and leans in closer to me, pressing her breasts against my side. “Tell me something sexy.”
I clear my throat and shift to lie on my side and face her. “You’re an incredible woman, the kind that makes a boy a man. Your brilliant mind amazes me every time you solve a problem or come up with a dozen solutions to something a whole team of experts can’t figure out. As if those weren’t enough, you’re beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. You love with all your heart and dedicate yourself without limits to your loved ones. I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have the chance to have you all for myself.”
I half-expect her to burst into tears and declare her own love and adoration for me, but Julie wouldn’t be Julie if it wasn’t for her unpredictability. Instead of tears, though, she gives me a quick shake of her head. “That’s very romantic.”
She pauses, looking ashamed. Her hand splays over my chest, sliding from left to right as if parceling the territory. “But…” She lifts her gaze at me with a playful grin. “But not sexy. I need you to tell me something sexy to…you know…to get me going. I have enough alcohol in my body to turn off my inhibitions. I’m wildly turned on, but I still need a little nudge.”
“Oh!” I nod, chuckling and quickly sit up on the bed, facing her. “You want me to talk dirty?”
“Yeah! Like you must have done to the women you serviced at Pleasure Extraordinaire.” Grabbing a strand of her hair, she pushes it away from her face, her chest growing with each inhale.
I should probably correct her assumption about the need of the Pleasure Extraordinaire clients for dirty talk. The majority of my clients gave me only a minute or two to check out their bodies before jumping my bones. They weren’t shy ones by any means. I shrug away the faint images of the hundreds of faceless women I took care of sexually.
That’s my past, and before me lies the woman of my present and my future, and all she needs is for me to talk dirty to her. The question is, how dirty can she handle?
“Would you let me touch you?” I ask and quickly add, “Your feet?”
She pushes both her feet toward me. I slide on the bed to sit between her feet and grab one on my lap. “I fantasized a lot about you back then when we were teenagers.” I look over her face to see her jaw dropping in surprise.
“You did?”
I nod and press my thumb along the arch of her foot. She moans softly, her eyelids hooding over her dilating irises.
“You were fifteen, sixteen, I don’t remember exactly,” I begin. “I’d picture letting myself into your room when everybody went to bed. You would jump on your bed in shock at first and pull the bed covers over your body. And of course you’d be completely naked. I’d yank away your covers and spread your legs.”
Her hand quickly covers her mouth, concealing her shock and embarrassment. Only at the sound of her laughter do I continue.
“I have a fondness for pretty pussies.” I wink at her and slide my fingers between her toes, a technique I learned from JJ at Pleasure Extraordinaire. She presses her thighs together, likely out of lust or to hide her wetness. My cock stirs beneath my pants, at the thought of her wet pussy. “I fantasized about your pussy so many times, I can draw a picture of it with my eyes closed, but I believe I won’t come close to the beauty of the real thing.”
“Oh, Zane…”
“I’d rub your inner thighs, slowly making my way up toward your sweet pussy. It’d swell and open up for me the closer my fingers moved toward it. Your arousal would leak down my fingers. I’d push your legs all the way to the side to discover your hidden folds, all pink and puffy, waiting for me to sooth them.”
She slithers like a snake on the bed, her body slowly coming alive. Her hands wander over her breasts, an indirect but clear request for me to take over. I just continue rubbing her foot to let her body simmer to the right temperature by her own will. Patience is my secret code at this point, although my cock is erect enough to tear through my pants in the search of her pussy.
“I’d only brush my thumb alongside your pussy lips,” I continue with my oral work, a different one from the one I usually employ. “You’d shiver at the first touch and thrust your hips toward me to get more of my finger. I’d tease you endlessly, only touching you with soft rubs, teasing your clit with gentle circles.”
The unthinkable happens and she pushes her foot down to my crutch, positioning its sole right against the length of my cock. The pressure of her foot makes me loose it for a second, and my hands launch forward between her thighs, to reach for her core, to feel her pulsate with desire.
She gasps and her body shifts to her side, her legs pressing together. Her skirt roles up to just a little below her ass. The sight of her thighs squeezed in a feeble attempt to satiate her desire and the continuing weight of her foot against my cock make it hard for me not to take her right here without any hesitation.
“Oh, God!” she purrs, her face buried against the pillow.
Instinctively, I know it’s now or never. Her fears are so far away and forgotten, if I make my move at this very moment, they won’t be able to come between us.
With an efficient yet subtle rapidity, my hands reach for her panties, tugging them down, enjoying the sight of her waxed pussy opening up for me like a blossoming flower…her only response a deeper moan. I nudge her legs to get her to lie down on her back so I can give my full focus to her pussy. Her eyes follow mine in a tentative gaze as I hover over her body like a lion that has cornered its prey.
Her pussy, swollen and wet as I’ve always imagined it, lies before me like an exquisite dish put together with extra care and diligence. Again, she pushes her thighs together, rather an automatic reflex than by her conscious choice, I suppose.
Her eyes grow larger, a sliver of fear creeping back in, but I move fast enough to push her legs apart quickly to relish the delicacy I’ve been dreaming about for so long.
Without further delay, I lunge forward and dive the tip of my tongue between the lips of her pussy, lightly licking her up all the way to her throbbing clit. Her breathing loud and fast, she squirms and spreads her arms to hold on to the bed sheets.
My lips circle around her clit, tugging it gently at the same time I probe the puffed up folds of her pussy with my fingers.
“Oh, God…No!” she exclaims, but it’s no different than her shouting ‘yes, yes, yes!’
I slow down nonetheless; after all she isn’t the wanton kind of woman I’m normally accustomed to. I lift my head up to check on her only to have her beg me, “Please don’t stop.”
Those are the words every man will die to hear…remarks of appreciation and peaks of pleasure. I grin in satisfaction and draw her clit back between my lips, urging more and louder moans out of her. My forefinger explores her pussy, bathing in her juices as it slides up and down. She rocks her hips in rhythm to my sucking, panting and breathless, her arm shading her eyes.
When she looks like she’s relaxed enough, I plunge my finger inside her, dipping through the soft cushions of her core. “You’re so wet baby, I’m gonna fuck that pussy.”
Her body stops, frozen, and not even a single moan comes out. My finger slides in and out, my ears focused on her to gauge her mood.
Right when I begin to pull back, the walls of her pussy clamp down on my finger, vibrating around my skin. “Yeah, baby, come for me…just like that.”
Her mouth opens, possibly to scream out her pleasure, but no sound comes out, while her body shakes through her orgasm… an earth-shattering climax, from the shocked look on her face.
Pulling back, I stand on my knees, my hands crawling over my belt, unbuckling it. “Now the real fun starts. I’m gonna wear your pussy out.”
Her eyes shoot up to my hand, beads of sweat line her forehead. Her gaze tenses as she follows the lingering movement of my fingers unbuttoning and unzipping my pants. Beneath her hesitant and slightly p
anicked stare, I notice her lips rubbing against each other.
My cock springs free as I push my pants and boxers down, the thought of her puckered lips surrounding my cock making it hard to focus.
Will she do it? Is she going to be able to get over her fears and submit herself to me the way I’d like? I can be patient with her if time is all she needs. But at this moment, her pussy surrounding my cock is all I care about.
After shrugging out of my shirt and tossing it on the floor along with my pants and boxers, I move fully naked back between her legs. “Take those off,” I order, tugging at her shirt and skirt.
Her chest moves quicker in rhythm with her shallow breathing. Her face winces, but not in fear. A different type of worry is wrecking her nerves, and I can tell what it is.
“You’re gorgeous, Julie. For me, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I’d love to see your breasts finally and touch your nipples. Unbutton your shirt now, and show me your pretty tits. I’ll savor them like I savored your pussy.”
Impatience curls my hands into tight fists. If I lose my focus one second, I might end up ripping her shirt to get my hands on those firm globes of hers. She starts undoing the buttons of her blouse, from bottom to top, and my palms itch to feel the smooth skin of her stomach she’s revealing to me in a slow tease.
I bite my lip to resist the impulse to order her to hurry up. I’ve never been this hungry for a woman, never this incapable of keeping my urges in check and never so absorbed with every little move she makes or emotion she may have.
When her hands cease to move above her breasts, when uncertainty crosses over her face, I lose it. I lose the little control I have and yank her hands away. The buttons of her blouse fly as I rip the material and push her bra away. Her breasts spill out like two mountains covered in snow, their peaks adorned with tiny little hard nipples.
As she’s lying completely naked before me, save for her blouse tangled around her arms, my heart feels like it’ll jump out of my chest. Her fears are visible on her face now, yet she doesn’t stop me. She’s beautiful already, pure and delicious, but the determined way she’s trying to get over her fears to offer herself to me makes her all the more attractive and erotic in my eyes. It makes her the woman I can commit myself to for life.
“Come here!” My hands slipping beneath her armpits, I lift her up and capture her lips, kissing her the way I’ve never kissed a woman before. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in closer, as if she can’t get enough of me. This is gonna be good.
Sneaking one hand between us, I grab my cock and guide it between her legs. There’s no point in waiting, not when both of us are panting to mark each other’s bodies. I plunge into her, hard, the slick and sudden move taking us both off-guard. Our lips unlock and she throws her head back, her eyes rolling back in their sockets as her pussy adjusts to my size.
The feeling of having her pussy wrapping up my cock like a tight glove is so overwhelming, I feel mad at her for not allowing this to happen sooner. Not just a couple days ago, but years. I could have savored this incredible feeling for a decade. I draw back and ram into her again, gazing into her face.
My balls tighten as the urge to explode builds up. Her body shakes, completely at the mercy of my thick cock thrusting into her cunt. I hold her head in one hand to look into her eyes and massage her clit with my other hand.
A full-body tremble takes over her and her pussy tightens around me, breaking the last remnants of my control. I come inside her, flushing, bursting. My mouth searches for hers in the midst of the haze of our orgasms.
We kiss ferociously, while I continue sliding in and out of her through the last seconds of my erection.
Desire turns into obsession as we hold each other, and obsession blossoms into love as we start falling hard after the highest peak…the ugly, animal side of fucking encountering the beauty and holiness of lovemaking. The woman who has been my friend and my family is now becoming my woman, my lover, my better half.
“I love you,” I whisper to her mouth, not caring about my previous love declarations now that I realize they were nothing but words thrown out in the spur of the moment.
My chest swells with pride as I recognize the finality of my words. “I love you, Julie.”
She’s mine and I’ll love her no matter what until my last breath leaves my body.
CH 25 - JULIE
~
My eyes fall closed.
My mother’s sorrowful face shows up in the darkest part of my mind, her silent goodbyes a murmur in my ears.
Irene hugs me with tears and sobs.
My dead father and everything that came with his loss…
Michael’s unforgiving growl echoes from far away.
The men who took advantage of me appear in the crowd, their faces a faint memory.
The milestones of my life pass before my eyes one by one, as if I’m on the verge of dying. In a way, I am dying…the depressed Julie is departing, leaving in her wake the happiness I’ve never imagined existed.
It only takes a man and a women and their unwavering love for each other to turn this miserable life into the Garden of Eden. Zane turns my lousy existence into one that matters. To him, I’m the most precious thing in his life.
I open my eyes and realize tears fill every corner. He hovers over me, his mouth whispering my name. “Julie, Julie!”
I smile and cry…the surge of bliss suddenly too much to handle. My fears about getting physical with a man seem so surreal now that I know how easy and pleasurable it was with Zane. I now realize it wasn’t fear at all, but my love for Zane that kept me from being able to respond to other men.
Through my sobs, I feel his arms around me, his strong body meshed with mine. Everything that has happened to me, every piece of humiliation, loss and pain I’ve suffered through, every tear I’ve shed, dissolves into nothingness as he holds me tight, close to his heart.
“Are you there?” He jolts up on the bed and stares at me with worried eyes, and when I nod, wiping my snot and tears away with the back of my hand, we both burst into happy laughter. For the first time in my twenty-nine year of existence, I taste true happiness.
*
Pain and loneliness may have abandoned me for good, but I still have had to endure a variety of humiliating incidents, the biggest of which was throwing up in the middle of my talk at the annual meeting with the sponsors of the Frat House franchise. With my usual grace, I managed to stain every single attendee’s suit with the contents of my stomach. I’m sure they’ll not just pull their advertising money, but even boycott anything related to Frat House.
The reason for the outrageously embarrassing response of my body was even worse than the incident itself. I’m pregnant. Just three weeks into starting a physical relationship with Zane, I became pregnant with his child.
To my surprise, though, he’s over the moon, the only good thing in this dreary situation. He can’t stop bragging about his high-quality sperm. Apparently, I bruised his ego when I once claimed the quality of his sperm was diminishing with age.
He orders his lawyers to speed up Preston’s adoption process with him as the father and with me as the mother so we can start our family life as soon as possible. With my newfound sexuality and ability to appeal to his emotional side, I manage to convince him to make the old house our new home. Despite the bad memories we both have from there, it’s where he and his siblings grew up, where I first fell in love with him, and where the memories of us with Irene will live forever.
Not wanting to delay the inevitable, Zane and I married only three months into our relationship and held the wedding reception in the backyard of the old house with only close friends and family as guests.
Over Zane’s objections, I invite Scarlet to the reception. Scarlet brings Trey, her co-star in Frat House, as her date to the happiest day of my life. The two end up dating for half a year. Then break up when Scarlet starts seeing her high school sweetheart, Braden. She marries him two ye
ars later and has a beautiful baby girl with him. She remains as a good friend of mine even after her departure when the Frat House series comes to an end. Zane tries to keep a cautious distance between himself and her, I guess, due to their past as lovers.
The first two trimesters of my pregnancy fly by like a breeze. My baby bump is so small, even the reporters who snap pictures of Zane and me don’t detect my pregnancy. My breasts are a whole different story. It seems they’re the only ones who get the memo and grow bigger until I become a proud owner of double Ds. The best part of it, Zane loves them, and I didn’t have to undergo surgery to get them.
Then, the inevitable happens. Somewhere between the thirty-first and thirty-third week, the rest of my body catches up with the pregnancy. Almost overnight, my ankles swell into gigantic hot air balloons. I can’t even wear any high heels anymore. My upper arms turn into those of a sumo fighter. And my hips? I’d rather not acknowledge their existence. As if all those changes aren’t enough, I sweat. All the time. And it’s not even summertime.
It’s the wee hours of the morning, and I’m lying on my side, watching the red numbers of the clock. 4:30. It’s too hot to sleep and I might need an ice-cold shower to cool my body back to normal temperature. Zane throws his hand over my waist and pulls me closer despite sleeping deeply. It’s a cute gesture, one that normally has my heart melting on the spot, but right now, his burning skin touching my sweaty body makes me prefer diving into a pool filled with ice-cubes to cuddling, even with Zane.
Feeling guilty for not appreciating Zane’s innate desire to be close to me even while asleep, I sneak out of the bed and waddle like a penguin toward the bathroom.
The unwelcoming eye of the mirror stares at me with contempt. I never thought I’d become one of those women who hate the look of their bodies, but here I am, not wanting to accept the physical changes that come with growing a human being inside.