by Kay, Debra
“Hi, pretty girl,” he said, giving me a boyish grin. “Close the door and turn off the light. I’ve been thinking about kissing you all afternoon. I could barely get through practice.”
“I know what you mean. I almost jogged over here from class. Are you ready for your last home game this season?” I asked, flipping the switch.
“Yes, if you’ll help me relax. And I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you for lunch today. My schedule will ease back up next week. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You will. How?”
“I’ll show you. First, let’s start with your dress. Take it off slowly for me.”
Sunlight cut across a corner of the space, leaving the remainder of the room shadowed. We were alone. I stood in the darkened section, lifting my dress. Blake’s eyes were fixated on me in a penetrating stare. His fervor turned me on, and suddenly I felt adrenaline surging through my body. I tossed my dress onto a chair.
He smiled. “Now come here.”
I wanted to run into his arms; instead, I walked slowly, teasing him with the sway of my hips. He watched me without blinking. He rubbed his lips together. Stepping into the warm sunbeams and next to Blake, I could smell his freshly showered scent. Without pause, he pulled me close and hugged me as if we hadn’t seen each other in months.
He stroked my hair and lifted my chin to look into his eyes. No one had eyes like Blake. They were more golden than brown and at the moment seemed to be predatory like a tiger’s stare. And the intense look he gave me was filled with hunger, like he starved for my touch.
I thought he was going to kiss me, but he startled me by saying, “I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. I’m glad I waited until college to make love, because you made the first time unforgettable, like everything about you.” He ran his hand down my arm and squeezed my hand. “These past couple years have been the best of my life.”
“I love you. Happy anniversary,” I said.
His face lit up. “You’re something else. I know what I want to do to you.”
“Kiss me?”
In the next instant, he leaned his face down and brushed his lips against my cheek. I felt a surge of warmth, anticipating his exploring touch. He slid his hand behind my head, tangling his fingers in my ponytail, tugging on my hair. He pressed his mouth flush against mine. His tongue parted my lips, searching for its playmate.
At the same time, he rubbed his other hand down my side and behind my back, unhooking my bra. He leaned over, placing tiny kisses on my throat, and cupped my breasts, squeezing them tenderly. He sucked one sensitive nipple while he fondled the other. I could feel wetness spread between my legs.
Using his other hand, Blake traced the outside of my panties in a circular motion. “You’re so wet. You want me, don’t you?” he asked.
I could barely speak, but managed to say, “Yes . . . please.”
He rubbed back and forth across my panties. “Oh, I’m going to give it to you.”
I stared at his wide grin. “Promises. Promises.”
“I deliver. You know I always do.”
Blake rotated my shoulders until I faced the open window. In the next instant, he rubbed his hands down my sides and along the curve of my hips. He flared his fingers across my bottom, squeezing my burning flesh, and skimmed his tongue along the base of my spine. He surprised me when he began sucking and biting at the soft skin on my round bottom.
“You like it when I touch you like this?” he asked.
“I want more.”
I leaned forward with my arms sprawled across the windowsill and stared outside. With my chest angled toward the sunlight, I watched the students walking across campus. Anyone looking up would have been treated to the sight of my bare breasts.
Blake dropped to his knees. I let out a gasp as Blake knelt beneath my spread legs, holding my thighs. With his face pushed up against my panties, he began blowing hot breaths onto the silk. My moist skin underneath the fabric tingled in anticipation. He curved his finger around my panties and pulled them to the side. My exposed, well-shaven flesh throbbed with desire.
He wrapped his lips around my satiny skin. He pulled my slick folds inside his mouth and sucked. My clit sprang to life, becoming fully engorged and throbbing with sensitivity. Working in rhythm, he pushed two fingers inside me and rubbed his tongue back and forth. My moans resonated through the room, filling the silence as my body clenched. He licked. And sucked. I could hear the faint sound of him moaning. My body tightened. My thighs wrapped around his head until finally a wave of warmth swept across me.
After I shuddered in ecstasy, Blake stopped and hopped to his feet. “Let’s really live. I dare you to go out onto the ledge with me and make love,” he said, his eyes pleading.
I looked over the ledge, clamped my teeth together, and saw the ground far below. I told myself to go for it, but to not look down. Swallowing hard, I reluctantly complied.
“I’ll climb out first, and then you follow. Once you’re safely out there, climb onto me, straddle my hips, and ride me.” His naughty laugh filled the room. “Don’t worry, the ledge is wide enough to hold us.”
Before I could answer, he removed his shirt, revealing his flat stomach and defined abs. A few seconds later, he slid his shorts off and was standing next to me in only his boxer briefs. He hoisted his leg over the windowsill, climbing slowly onto the ledge. He crawled forward a couple feet and then rolled onto his back. With one foot dangling over the side and swinging in the breeze, he motioned me forward. “The sunshine and the warm air feel incredible out here. Come straddle those cute legs over mine.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you want it.”
He knows I can’t resist.
Carefully, I scaled the windowsill and clambered across the ledge on all fours and slowly climbed on top of his feet. With my legs draped across his toned calves, I began scooting up toward his hips. Slowly. Slowly. I maneuvered my way along his body until I was sitting astride him. I felt his stare. When I glanced at his face, he showed no signs of fear; only amusement flickered in his eyes as he pushed his boxer briefs low enough for his erection to aim toward the sunlight. Oh . . . wow.
Although I could do flips on a balance beam, my nerves were getting the best of me. I tried not to look down. I sucked in my breath. My heart pounded. Focus. Focus. Don’t think about the huge drop to the ground or that anyone looking up might see us. Don’t look down again. I tilted my body, trying to steady myself as my legs dangled over his hips. In a calming motion, he stroked his fingertips down my back to my hips, his touch leaving a path of warmth. I looked into his eyes and saw desire staring back at me.
With my legs straddled across his hips, I pushed my crotch against him. He took my hand and placed it on his penis. My mouth curved upward in a smile of amazement. Although I had seen his cock many times before, the size continued to astonish me. One hand was not enough to accommodate his manliness.
Reluctantly, I let go of my grasp on the ledge. I reached over with my other hand and continued to stroke him. The more I rubbed my hand up and down, the larger and harder he grew. Lucky me, but I didn’t say it out loud.
Blake, however, was more vocal. “Oh no, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop,” he murmured. His lips puckered in a playful smile. He slid my red panties over to the side and expertly slipped his finger inside my warm, wet center. I could feel the gentle breeze brush against my wetness. My breathing quickened to match his.
After he eased one finger inside me, he slid in a second. I opened my legs wider. I pushed my hips closer to allow him full access. At that moment, I would have done anything he wanted me to do. But he knew that already.
“I can’t get enough of you. Ever,” I said.
“Tell me what you want, Lila.”
“I need you,” I said breathlessly.
In one quick motion, he gripped my hips, lifted me, and pushed my warm flesh on top of his penis. Secretly, I loved how he took charge. I leaned forward an
d dug my nails into his biceps, watching his face smile with pleasure. I tilted my hips side to side, easing myself onto his long, hard shaft. I sucked in my breath as I could feel his thick cock stretching me, every inch of him pushing inside my tightness.
“You feel so good,” he said. He moaned from my warmth as my inner muscles clenched and released, pulling him in deeper. In the next instant, he traced his fingers around the tenderness of my throbbing clit.
I smiled. “I want you deep inside me.”
After fully mounting him, my hips took over the rhythm, pushing my pelvis against him, increasing our friction. He felt like a wild bull I was trying to tame undulating beneath me. He was totally uninhibited and wild.
The motion of my hips took over, and I began to rock against him, grinding myself into him. I pinned his hands above his head, holding them down, kissing him. At the same time, he lifted his pelvis to thrust against me like he was dancing inside. I tried to remain in control but couldn’t.
“No one will ever love you as much as I do,” he whispered breathlessly in my ear. My moans penetrated the gusty air. I was at the point of no return. My tingling flesh clung to him, sucking him into my depths. Two orgasms gripped me in quick succession. As I climaxed, the muscles deep inside me squeezed him, pulling him closer. I felt him tense under me. Someone groaned—me, him, or both in unison.
My greenish gaze looked down into his twinkling golden eyes. “I love you . . . always,” I said.
Now it was time to make him have a multiple orgasm of his own. After he came, I didn’t let him go. I held him inside me. I squeezed and pumped his penis for round two. A scream ripped out of him. And another scream. He continued to yell as his body tightened.
Finally coming to my senses, I pushed my forearm into his mouth to restrain and silence him. Blake clamped hard, tearing into my soft skin. I looked down and saw a couple of students pointing up at us. Frantically, I tried to hop off of Blake and scurry back to the window.
But in my haste, I slipped. I lost my footing and began to slide down the roof. I shrieked. I clawed at the roof. My fingertips tore. I slid. And slid. I couldn’t get traction.
Blake grabbed for my hands, trying to stop my fall. His fingertips touched mine; however, his attempt failed. I skidded out of control, bouncing off of the roof line and tumbling into the tree below. Acting instinctively, I managed to grab a limb to slow my fall, but my swinging body was more weight than the branch could hold.
A moment later, the limb tore away. I fell the remaining ten feet to the ground. The foot that first made contact took the greatest impact from the fall. My bone snapped. I lay on the ground, naked except for torn panties, writhing in pain. I tried not to look at the bone protruding from the top of my foot. What happened next was a blur in my memory.
Ultimately, there was disciplinary action. And with a shattered foot, I lost my gymnastic scholarship. Not to mention the whispers that followed, as the word of my naked disaster spread across campus. Of course, Blake slipped his clothes on before he raced outside. His reputation remained unscathed because no one knew for sure that he was involved. I kept our secret. Unlike me, he retained his scholarship.
As a result of losing my scholarship, I could no longer afford to stay at the expensive private school and transferred to the state school close to my home. Blake felt horrible that I had to suffer and that he walked away without tarnish to his reputation. But his sorrow did not change our fate. And our relationship unraveled after that day.
So many years ago, so many things left unsaid.
Chapter 2
Just looking at the scar made me tremble, remembering the most intense day of ecstasy I had ever experienced. And
pain. . . . I needed to push those memories back, deep within the recesses of my mind. But now, I just couldn’t. My mental time travels were interrupted by the distant sound of my barking dog. The noise swiftly shook me back to the present.
That’s right, my neighbor and best buddy Jane said she was going to stop by with a celebration gift. What in the world do you give as a divorce celebration gift? Leave it to Jane to find just the right thing.
I should wear this tiny bikini to greet her when she gets here, and make her laugh. She would fall over at the sight of me spilling out of it. But should I really put on Peter’s torture device? Oh, why not! I slid off my loose-fitting sundress. I yanked the bikini bottoms up and over my padded hips.
As I struggled to fasten the top, I had to blow the air out of my lungs. Finally, the clasp hooked. I don’t remember this bikini fitting so tightly. Almost breathless with laughter, I slid on my stilettos and sashayed into the bathroom in search of the full-length mirror.
But what I saw in the mirror surprised me. The face staring back at me had to be my mother, right? Not me. Is this actually me? When did my face start to look so much like hers?
I almost could hear my mother’s trilling voice: “Dixie Elizabeth Baxter, is that any way for a proper lady to conduct herself, wearing that tiny bikini?” Even though she was chastising me, it rolled off her tongue like she was singing in church. Although I preferred to be called Lila, she would never call me that.
And somehow, she always knew when I misbehaved. To this day, she was the only person to call me Dixie—Dixie Elizabeth to be exact—unless she was really upset and then I got all three, the full arsenal of names blasted at me.
About two years ago she and my father moved to Florida, to judge my sister on a regular basis instead of me. I had lived my entire life in Raleigh, North Carolina, and don’t have any plans to move. Thanks to the telephone, I don’t feel her absence. Although occasionally, I wished I didn’t have any method of communication.
I loved my mother dearly, but sometimes her voice resonated in my head. She was one of those people who kept telling me it was better to have “loved and lost” than to have never loved at all. I knew she meant well, but her opinion of love felt like total nonsense after what I had been through this past year.
Further study in the mirror made me inhale sharply and gasp. Were those muffin tops hanging over my bikini bottom? Reluctantly, I turned to get a better view, and what I saw startled me. I let out a moan of anguish. Was that back fat rolling across my rib cage? When did that appear? I glanced at my reflection in disbelief. What were you thinking, putting on this old bikini? It didn’t work to keep your husband; it is not going to entice a man now. Anyway, what man? Go change.
I tried to contain my laughter but couldn’t. When the sound wheezed out of me, my tummy roll released and fell over my bikini bottom. I gave up trying to pull my stomach in and simply looked down in disgust at the pudgy roll hanging over the fabric.
Quickly, I brushed my wavy hair that hung in strands down my back. Although a natural brunette, I enjoyed having a few highlights, blond or red, depending on my mood. This year, I wanted that summer blond look that reminded me of my towheaded youth.
I flipped my chemically-enhanced hair away from my face, rotated from side to side, and stared one more time in the mirror. Maybe I can learn to color my own hair. As I leaned in closer to inspect myself, I feared that the glow of my youth was beginning to fade. New lines by my eyes? Good grief, maybe I could Botox my entire face like a statue.
I was only forty-one years old, but today I felt creaky and ancient. Enough . . . Step away from the mirror.
As I left the bathroom, my stained glass caught my eye. A bright burst of sunlight lit the colors of the glass, fully illuminating the bathroom. I tried to figure out how many hours I worked to create this masterpiece. I painstakingly merged broken bits of glass, piece after piece, with lead, slowly transforming them into spectacular art. And now, sadly, it was time to leave it behind. All of it. The legal documents were signed; it was official, and today I was divorced. I couldn’t afford this house and didn’t need the space anymore.
Some might argue that I was now free, but I had not yet come to terms with this newfound freedom. Although, reality was slowly sinking in, and I was not
completely sure how I felt about it yet. My feelings were a weave of fear, sorrow, exhilaration, and uncertainty. What I did know, for sure, was as a newly single woman, I needed to downsize. I didn’t expect to feel this jolt of sadness about selling this house. But the tears welling in my eyes had made the decision for me, and when they spilled over my eyelids, they revealed my sorrow.
At that exact moment, my perky golden retriever, Elky, danced in excitement at the front door, from the mere sound of a truck pulling into the driveway. Her barks echoed across the marble floor, and the commotion brought me out of my trance-like state. Was the handyman here to finish his work? In the distance, I could hear someone slam the backyard gate. In addition to the interior work, I hired a handyman to repair the broken tiles and restore the pool. There was no way I could handle all of this work alone.
A few minutes later, my thoughts were interrupted again, this time by the sound of the doorbell. Jane. The bell echoed while I raced across the house in my tiny bikini and stilettos. My outfit was going to make her laugh so hard she might have to cross her legs or pee on herself. I giggled at the thought. An instant later, I opened the front door and shouted, “Janeeeeeee,” but to my surprise it was a fresh-faced handsome stranger.
I gasped and stepped backward, stumbling to find my balance. My face froze in a surprised expression, with my eyes round and wide like a startled owl. I laughed as I realized I stood nearly naked in front of him.
“Do I look like a Jane?” asked the male version of perfection staring at me. A wide smile flexed across his flawless face, and he chuckled as he stepped forward and introduced himself. “My name is Chase,” he said in a deep, husky voice while I assessed the brawny body that filled my entire doorframe. Instantly, I perked up from my dour reflections.