by Ashley Beale
His hand slides down my midsection, running his fingers gently against my skin. He laces his fingers into my underwear, and slowly allows them to descend down my legs. He kneels down in the same swift motion. Locking eyes with me, I see the arousal evident in his pupils.
"I told you I was going to kiss you everywhere." He leans forward to press his lips against my hip, then kisses the other. He sucks softly between kisses in every inch of skin between. I'm drenched in need for Everett before he's even touched me anywhere necessary for an orgasm.
"Lay on the bed," he orders in a whispered demand.
I do as he says.
Running his fingers along my inner thighs, I spread open for him. His breath hitches while he examines everything I've exposed to him. Running his finger along my slit, the side of his mouth lifts. "You're soaked." He looks up at me to see if I'm even paying attention.
“Mmm!" It seems to be the only thing I can say as I lean back into the mattress. He starts kissing me down one leg, then back up, switching over to the other for a repeat. It's teasing, but it feels so damn good. His fingers trace along the skin of my legs, lightly memorizing everything under their touch. He runs them upward, towards my hips, resting them directly on either side before pulling my body towards the edge of the bed more.
In the next moment his mouth is tasting my pussy, licking my clit before giving it a small suction with this mouth, followed by flicking his tongue out once more. He runs the edge of his tongue in many directions, licking me, tasting me, eating me out to the point of my body convulsing against him.
"Oh... my... God," I moan out. My body starts to grind against his mouth as he continues assaulting between my legs with his mouth. When I feel a second orgasm about to erupt, I reach down to grip into his hair, pulling his face to the exact location I need, then grinding my hips into him, riding my orgasm out on his face.
When I let go, my body collapses into the mattress once more, unsure if I can have another intense feeling like that, but when he starts kissing upwards, I know we're nowhere close to being finished. Honestly, I'm glad... because this isn't sex, this is making love... and he isn't a client, he's the man I'm falling head over heels for.
When he kisses along my jaw, he stops at my ear. "Can I kiss your mouth? I want you to taste how incredible you are?"
"Do whatever you want, baby," I breathe in response.
He kisses me with a force unlike any other. His hand between my legs, rubbing circles on my clit, while we make out. My hands run along his back, attempting to pull his body to mine, but he doesn't give in yet. He waits for me to come once more at his touch. As I start to fall apart, he stops kissing me so he can look down at me.
The moment I'm done with my spout of euphoria, he grins with delight. "You are gorgeous when you come."
I know my face flames red, but I don't say anything. It isn't exactly an appropriate time to thank him. Instead, I reach down to wrap my hand around his dick. I run it up and down, listening to his nearly silent moan. He closes his eyes, his lips parting over the fact of me touching him. I understand his reasoning for loving my o-face, because there is certainly something invigorating about seeing the pleasure on his face while knowing I'm the one causing it.
"I'm going to get a condom," he whispers without movement. Peeking an eye open, he looks down at me, his eyes are hooded and filled with so much passion and pleasure, it's electrifying. "Then I'm going to make love to you, Brenna."
I've had sex hundreds of times before, but as I lay here exposed to Everett, I know this is the first time I'll ever make love. He positions himself between my legs, looking down at me lovingly. In a way I've never seen before- in a way I won't soon forget. His hand presses against my cheek, holding me affectionately, while the other helps keep him upright. He pushes forward, filling me entirely.
We're silent while we rock our bodies together, but there are no need for words. After a few minutes, we both become heavy with our breathing, our thrusts become stronger, and our bodies start to tangle within one another. He finds ways to make me feel pleasure unlike any time before, he gets me to scream out his name after a few hard thrusts, then he flips us over so I'm on top.
I grind against him, our bodies still connected, still touching. Sweat pours between our bodies. He kisses my chin, running his lips along my throat to my collar bone. I pant out his name when he bites down on my skin.
He flips us over once more, this time to bring my leg up higher, giving him a better angle inside of me. Everett's body is demanding and intense. I'm starting to fall apart once more.
Looking down at me, he grins. "Are you about to come?" he asks breathlessly.
I nod in response, feeling it take over. He presses his lips fiercely to mine, then pulls away ever so much. I can still taste his breath on my lips when he whispers, "Come with me."
And as if those words were magic, my fingers dig into his skin while every nerve in my body explodes in all the directions of the world. He tightens his grip in my hair, letting out a breathy groan while his body stills, then he relaxes once more.
Kissing along my shoulder, until he reaches back to my mouth, he rests his lips on mine.
I know now, for as long as I live, nothing will ever compare to this moment.
*~*~*
Friday night I fell asleep in Everett's arms. I woke up sometime around three in the morning, he was still holding onto me as if I would escape if he dared moved. In a way, I wanted to, but in a million other ways, everything was right in the world.
Then my mind decided to wake up moments later, resulting in me never falling back asleep. I overthought every single aspect of what was happening. By the time he woke up I had a dozen debates with myself, with the end result being that I am going to try this. I am going to let it happen. I'm letting Everett into my world.
I thought over everything Kandy and I discussed the other day- or rather, what she said to me. About the fact I'm so young, I have a hundred options in front of me. Truth be told, out of it all, I want to follow in her footsteps. I want to run the business, find others like myself, like Mona, like Kandy, who need a guide... who need opportunities. I'm going to try to meet with her on Monday to discuss starting the process of learning her routines.
Not until recently did I ever think I'd change my life, especially for a man. Not that it's strictly for Everett, it's for myself as well, but as of a month ago things were perfectly acceptable, now I feel... guilty.
Guilty that I'm betraying Everett's trust, that I'm lying to him about what I do, that I'm sleeping with other men then hours later I'm making love to Everett. I know I can't ever be honest with him, not entirely, but I can't continue these charades without consequences. Eventually I'll end up caught, then the last remainders of my heart will evaporate. I'll be broken too many times to be fixable.
So I'm going to take it slow, and I'm going to be cautious. If that is a possibility. I've barely known Everett a month and he's already twisted, flipped, and pulled my life in directions I hadn't deemed imaginable. I can't lie by saying I hate it, because I don't, but I am scared. I'm terrified beyond belief. This isn't anything I'd ever expect in my life.
Running the brush through my hair, I stare at myself in the mirror. It makes me wonder what it is that caused Everett to chase after me in the first place. Was it my looks? My personality? A combination of both? I feel like I was a bitch to him, for no reason other than the fact he had a dick. I pushed him away, I wasn't much of a friend. It didn't matter to him, he still continued to pursue me, and most of the time he was respectful about it.
Maybe that is what I started to like about him. That he didn't give up on me. Something I'm not used to. The only person in my life that hasn't given up on me this far has been Kandy. Somewhat Hillarie as well. I'm still skeptical about it all. I'm more nervous over this than any other life experience up to this point in life.
Reaching into the drawer, I pull out my makeup kit. I start to layer on the foundation, adding blush to my ch
eeks. I swipe gold across my lids before lining them in black. I add two coats of mascara to my lashes. I've done this countless times, getting ready for a night with a man. A man to me that has no name other than John because he's a client. He isn't someone I'll ever fall for, someone who will ever love me- that is what I had wanted. All I ever attempted to care for in life.
Now that I'm preparing for a night with a client, I sort of feel... wrong.
I'm no longer filling a void. I'm no longer careless about an addiction that held power over me and others. I don't hate it, I simply don't love it anymore.
Everything comes back to Everett.
I didn't tell him how I felt when I woke up earlier this morning. He pulled me into his arms, gave me a kiss, nuzzling his face into my neck. I felt loved, appreciated, adored... I felt so many emotions I almost broke down in tears. Instead, I kept them to myself, and did something I hadn't thought I'd ever do- I reached over and grabbed his hand. We laced our fingers together, and he gave me a gentle squeeze, letting me know that it meant something to him.
We were both merely draped in a bed sheet, our legs tangled together. It was comforting but awkward at the same time. The only other time I've slept in the same bed as another guy was when I was sixteen, and he told me to leave before his mom woke. I hadn't a clue what to do this morning, to the point I couldn't even look over at Everett. That is, until he whispered, "What are your plans today?"
It was hard not to feel saddened by having to work, mainly for the sake that I wanted to spend the entire day wrapped in his body. After a few minutes he stood from the bed to pull his boxer briefs on, looking over at me with the same loving glance in his eye as last night- which comforted me to know that he wasn't regretting it. He asked if I wanted breakfast, and when I told him I did, he left the room to head into the kitchen.
We shared cereal, with promises from him that one day he'll learn how to cook real food. Apparently his mom and sister have taken real good care of him over the years. I almost asked him at that point how old he was, but I was nervous to tell him I'm only twenty.
I've lied a lot to him, and I already regret most of them.
Sliding on a dress over my lingerie, I make sure everything looks crisp and clean, then I glance over into the mirror. I look pretty... I even look sexy... yet I don't feel it. For the first time in a long time, my confidence has shifted. It didn't disappear, but rather it moved.
Either way, my job is mine, I chose this life, so I reach for my purse before racing out the door to meet Winston. I had to cancel the last time with him due to everything with Mr. Belvidere. He wants to meet every Saturday now. It's going to be hard, knowing that I'm going to want to spend Saturday nights with Everett, but with the amount of pay I can't refuse.
Tonight he said he wanted to take me out rather than stay in the bedroom, so basically I'm his arm trophy during a charity banquet for Alzheimer’s. It's not the first time I've done something like this, and I know it won't be the last, but normally that is what Bella is for. She has an exuberance unlike any other. She can make even the most uptight snob laugh at the strangest of things.
I don't have that, but I know when to smile, when to shake hands, when to be polite, and most importantly, I know that I'm strictly there to make Winston look like he can still score girls a third of his age with no problem. It's all about egos when you're rich. They gossip more than sixteen year old high school students.
He's waiting for me when I arrive outside Alamos, a coastal market. He stands outside his black SUV. When I step towards him, he lights up. "You look ravishing."
"Thank you," I tell him. "You look quite handsome yourself." Regardless to my feelings for Everett, I have to push everything aside and do what I came here to do. I'm being paid to make Winston feel like he's the only man in my life. I've been doing it for over three years with countless men, I can do it tonight, too.
He takes my hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. He opens the back door for me, and I climb into the vehicle. Closing the door, he walks around and positions himself into the other backseat. The driver glances at us through his rear view before shifting the transmission into drive.
Winston asks how my life has been, I keep it short and simple, letting him know things are fine. I question him as well, but he keeps it just as brief. The banquet hall is a twenty five minute drive out of town. The driver drops us at the curb in front of the entrance, where a red carpet is lined along the sidewalk for the fifty foot walk inside.
My arm links with Winston's elbow once we're through the door. There has to be over a hundred people here already, and it doesn't start for another fifteen minutes. We find our seats at one of the round tables, covered in white cloth. There is a bouquet with an array of gorgeous flowers all in different shades of purple in the center, with goodie bags in front of each chair. Winston pulls my chair out, and once I sit, he glides it forward for me.
Taking the seat next to me, he snaps his fingers over to a man in a penguin tux. He comes over with a tray of champagne, giving us each a glass before walking to another table. There are only three others at our table so far.
"Thompson, Mohegan, nice to see you two again. How have things been going?" He asks the ones to his right. The other person remaining at the table is a younger male, probably not even fifteen. He stares at me. When I give him a kind smile, his eyes shift towards my chest before quickly looking away at anyone except me.
Winston and his two friends chat amongst themselves. I decide to look into my goodie bag, as I've seen others from different tables do. Placing it on my lap, I reach in to find a magazine on health, a purple ribbon that can be pinned to your clothing, a soy candle, a package of cinnamon, and an organic coconut chocolate bar. Once it's all placed on the table in front of me, I decide to put everything back in except the purple ribbon, then I fold the bag up to place into my purse.
A moment later, Winston reaches into his bag to remove his ribbon as well, then puts the bag in front of me. He whispers, "I don't need any of it, you keep it."
I thank him quietly, placing that in my purse too. I won't refuse any of it. I'm actually a little excited about it. I have no idea what any of it is for, and if it's linked to Alzheimer’s, but I assume it must.
Someone takes the stage at the front of the room, the same time all the lights dim above us. The entire room goes silent as we listen to the man tap on the microphone. He introduces himself as Doctor Arnold Ackermann, then he does a thank you speech for everyone involved in today's organization, as well as what he has been doing to make a difference in the world of Alzheimer’s.
The rest of the evening goes on with similar stories and presentations, while the waiters walk around to serve us dinner and drinks. At the end, the last person to take the stage is a lady named Valentina, dressed in an oversized fur coat. She stands before us to discuss her husband's recent diagnoses and the pain it's caused them, as well as the financial trouble that is starting to take a toll on them. She mentions how her fur coat is the last remaining thing to hold onto when her life seems to be shredding to bits. He bought it for her on their one year wedding anniversary almost forty years ago. Before she's done speaking, I find myself crying in pain for her, silent tears running down my face. I try to wipe them as they fall, hoping I don't mess my makeup. I don't want to embarrass myself nor Winston.
He reaches over to place his hand on my leg, giving it a squeeze for comfort. It does nothing to soothe me.
When all the speeches are finished and the lights turn back on, many people walk over to an area where donations are accepted either for this lady and her husband, or for the Alzheimer’s association in general.
"Will you excuse me?" I ask Winston.
He gives me a questioning look. "Is everything alright?"
Picking up my purse, I give him a curt nod. "Yes, I need to use the powder room, then I'd like to make a donation."
"I'll escort you." He stands with me, and we make our way towards the rest r
ooms.
When I arrive at the donation table, Valentina is standing nearby, shaking hands with others, thanking them for their generosity and for making it tonight. I walk towards her, and when she has a moment, I sneak in. "That was a beautiful speech," I mention.
"Thank you," she replies with a kind smile. "It's an unfortunate reason to be here, but I feel so blessed being surrounded by everyone." She glances around. I can tell she is sincere in what she says.
"I won't pretend to understand, because I don't have a clue what you're going through, but I'd like to help." I reach into my purse to pull out my checkbook. "If you don't mind me asking, how much are you planning on raising tonight?"
She shrugs. "I haven't a clue, my dear. I am avidly hoping for at least one hundred thousand, to get us by for the next few months, but any number is justifiable to me. Money isn't going to make a difference in his health, it'll only make things a little easier, especially when he has to move into a nursing home."
"Have you found a nursing home?"
With tears brimming in her eyes, she explains how she found one in Georgia which is more than her monthly house payment, but she was hoping to get into there due to the fact it's the best in the country. They have more than enough staff which gives each patient exclusive one on one time with their nurses, and even doctors. That they rate higher than almost any other facility in finding treatment plans and so much more. She said his room would be custom decorated to her husband's life, in order to give him a little more repetition.
When I ask her how much it'd cost to get set up there, the number is twice as much as I'd assume, but I write out the numbers for three months’ worth and hand it over. "Get him set up there. My number is on the check if you need more help."
Valentina breaks down in tears, grabbing for me to hug to her. My body tenses but I manage to wrap my arms around her as well. It wasn't as much as I made with Mr. Belvedere, but it was close. I figured if I went through that suffering and pain with him, the least I could do is give a reason behind it.