by Anne Leigh
So I said the first thing, the only thing that came to mind, “I don’t know Milo. But you can start by talking to her.”
“Can we hang out tomorrow instead?”
What the hell?
I haven’t seen her in four days. She was in Thailand for some ribbon-cutting shit. The last time I saw her was after my latest fight. One that I won so quickly that my opponent, a Bulgarian boxer, barely threw a punch before I finished him with a combination of a jab, an uppercut, a few front kicks, and roundhouse kicks. I was on the edge while fighting. I just wanted the night to be over. Maxwell and his richie rich friends were a bit miffed that I ended the fight so quickly, but I had no energy for the drama, and I wanted to end the fight quickly knowing Ava was flying out early the next day.
During the days before the fight, Ava was busy with some things her father had asked her to do, she was also always on the phone with a woman named Naomi. I could tell something was bugging her, but whenever I asked her she would just kiss me and I’d get distracted and forget my question. Or I pretended to forget my question. She’d tell me when she was ready.
Now this. Six words she sent through a text message. Her plane had just landed twenty five minutes ago. When I called Daria yesterday, I had asked for Ava’s schedule and it looked like she was clear in two weeks. I wanted to tell her tonight, ask her to go with me. It was disconcerting to talk to an assistant about my girlfriend’s schedule, yes, she was my girlfriend, I didn’t ask for her consent or opinion, but her pussy in my mouth and my dick in her hands made her officially mine. Of course it wasn’t like that with every girl, but I made my own rules with Ava. Plus it felt right, me calling her my girl and she seemed happy about it too. Daria was a cool chick. I saw her a few times at Ava’s condo. She gave me tidbits on what Ava liked – Tic Tacs and diamonds. Tic Tacs, the orange kind, I could buy in boxes. Diamonds would have to come later.
I hit send, and she answered on the second ring. “No. Either I’m coming over or you’re coming over. Tonight.” My command clear, I didn’t even let her say hello.
She was pissing me off. We’ve talked every night on the phone. She was fully aware that I missed her and I was horny as hell for her. There was only so much a man could take facetiming his beautiful, sexy girlfriend.
“Hello to you handsome,” her breathy voice broke through the line. “Why do you sound so upset? Was it the traffic? Did a driver cut in front of you?”
She wasn’t fooling me. She was trying to distract me.
“No.”
“Milo, please babe…” She was so sexy, so hot, even over the phone.
I put my pen down, scribbling on the paper in front of me. I was trying to figure out how to change the mechanics on the heating system that Jeff had sent me so that H-TEC, the company we were designing it for, would be able to utilize fresh air from the outdoors thereby reducing the need for air conditioning at all times and increasing their capacity to save energy.
“No. What time are you coming over?” I questioned, ignoring her request. It was final; I was seeing her tonight. “Or do you want me to drive over there?” Her condo was a thirty minute drive, but I could make it in fifteen. Traffic was light at seven in the evening.
She sighed. “It’s just that I’m tired.”
“Okay, then I’ll drive over there.” Why was she making excuses anyways?
“No. I can drive there. I’m okay.” Now she could drive here?
“Ava, what the hell is going on?” I breathed out, tapping my pen against my head. Sometimes she really irritated the shit outta me. She just couldn’t get to the point. One time, she talked about a pair of shoes for almost an hour only to end up telling me that she hated the sole. Another time, she sent me picture after picture of scarves just to ask me if I wanted one. What kind of guy wore frilly-ass scarves with colors that should be hanging in someone’s window? I can’t even get started on how she doesn’t use coasters, didn’t do her dishes until they’re almost at two loads, and how she thinks she’s going to run out of purses. She makes me want to tear my hair out, but she also makes me appreciate the smallest things - the way she touches me like she always doesn’t want to let go, the look in her eyes when I say something funny, or the sexy way she counts in French.
“Something, umm, happened to me in Thailand.” She rushed as she said the words.
“Something?” I was already standing up and grabbing my car keys, ready to get out of the house. “Did someone hurt you?” I was flying over to Thailand and beating the shit out of the fucker who hurt her. My blood boiled at the thought of anyone manhandling her.
I paused. “Last night you were fine on the phone. When did this happen?”
In a weary voice, she mumbled, I could barely make out the words, “Ihadafacialandnowmyfaceisorange.”
“Orange?” This was crazy. “Did you say your face is orange?”
“Not super orange,” she defended. “Maybe more like a sherbet type of orange, lighter than pumpkin orange, and a shade darker than melon.”
She was flipping crazy. “Okay, so your face is like an Oompa Loompa?”
She let out a small whimper.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore – I busted out in laughter. “Fuck baby, you’re crazy.”
“It’s not funny Milo!” Her voice stern, she rambled on, “I bought these super nice silky kimono and nightie slip set with matching thong undies hand woven by the best of the best for you. And now my orangey face will distract you from that.”
Silk? Nightie? Thong? I could care less if her face was as orange as a carrot, just those three things would make it up for me.
“Are you driving here or you want me to come over? You have two seconds to decide.” My voice was gruff, hoarse. I missed her. Feeling her body close to mine wasn’t the same as talking on the phone, sending naughty texts, or e-mailing her.
“I’m coming over,” she stated with a finality. “I missed you too.”
As soon as the white Tesla parked in the garage, I carried her to my bedroom and pounced on her.
I’d never been so wound up, so tightly coiled, so horny for anyone but her.
I didn’t even notice how orange her face was. Sure, it looked orange, but not as bad as she made it sound.
All I knew was that she was here. Her gray eyes brimmed with happiness and her lips accommodated my hungry kisses. She was wearing a short yellow dress under a jacket and flat sandals that had some strings wrapped around her long legs.
“Someone missed me,” she said playfully as she took off her jacket. My hands were already trying to find a home under her bra.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she tugged on my loose-fitting black shorts and pulled them down. I lifted my legs one at a time to get out of them. Before I knew it she was cupping my balls and greeting my cock with her hand. My black boxers weren’t even halfway down my legs as she started sucking on my cock.
I wrapped my hands around her head, watching as she licked, sucked, and ran her teeth around my erection.
“Baby,” I groaned, pulling on her hair. “I’m not gonna last…I missed you so much.”
As much as I wanted for her to continue, I had different plans for her tonight.
I pulled my cock out of her mouth, her lips opening up, waiting for me to put it back in.
I dipped the head inside her mouth, teasing her, making her want for more.
Her mouth felt so good, it took everything I had not to sink back into that warmth.
I shucked my boxers to the side and my shirt followed shortly after.
Lowering myself to her level, I unwrapped her legs from the straps of the brown sandals she was wearing. Ava’s skin was burning, her body was so responsive to my touch.
Throwing her sandals aside, I lifted her legs so I could kiss the back of her knees, then slowly worked my way up.
She was now laying on top of my blue and red comforter. The sight of her, her dress lifted up showing her nude thong, her pussy soaking my sheets, her hands splaye
d above her head, her body arching up anticipating my touch, and her eyes heavy lidded with desire – if this was heaven, I didn’t want to ever go back down to earth. She was beautiful. An angel wrapped in a body made for passion.
I touched a finger to her clit. “Baby, I want to be inside you tonight.”
Her response was a prolonged moan. “Ohhh…”
I undressed her slowly, kissing every part of her body. By the time I unsnapped the back of her yellow lacy bra, she was delirious for my touch. The smallest friction of my thumb against her clit made her scream.
I unwrapped the foil packet with shaking hands. I had almost lost it earlier when she bit down on my shoulder.
“Put it on me.” Even my voice was shaking with my eagerness to sink inside her.
Her soft hands fisted my cock before she took the condom from my hand and suited me up.
I reached under, between us, ensuring that she was wet. I inserted finger inside her, watching her expression get darker, her breath hitching, her face was warm, so warm. I inserted another finger, joining the other one. “You’re so tight.”
“Ohh, it feels good.” The scent of her minty breath assaulted my senses.
“You okay, baby?” I asked, wanting to make sure that she’s okay.
“Yes,” she hissed, her legs opening wider, inviting me in.
I entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to my intrusion, pushing my body up so most of my weight wouldn’t be on her. She was tight, so, so tight. It was like sinking into a glove that I had to stretch so I could move.
Was she a virgin?
“Ava, look at me,” I gently ordered, lowering her chin so she could face me, momentarily stopping her from nibbling on my ear.
“Am I?” Her gaze cleared up, wondering what I was asking. “Your first?”
I didn’t even realize she was crying. Her face was lined with a small amount of tears.
“Am I hurting you?”
She lightly nodded her head, her dark hair spread like a fan on my bed. I lightly brushed the tears in her eyes, caressing her hair. “I think it only hurts the first time. If it’s too much, I’ll stop, okay? Just tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” Her comfort, her pleasure, came first. I’d have to ice my blue balls, but if she said stop, I wouldn’t hesitate.
“Okay,” she agreed, my eyes on her eyes, waiting for any sign, any word from her, and I would stop.
I pushed a little bit more, fuck, it felt so good.
She breathed out, her eyes darkening in need. “I’m okay.”
I plunged in an inch more, checked her face, no word from her. Another inch, she was still okay. I took my time even if all I wanted to do was just move inside of her. As I slid all of me inside of her, she brought her head against my left ear. “I’m yours.”
A primal, rip-roaring, unexplainable feeling took over me. I took that as my cue, my signal to move, and I moved. Slowly, gently, my hips rocking against her tight sheath, my finger on her clit, my mouth on her nipple, on her neck, on her lips - all over her. I sped up my rhythm as I felt her shudder underneath me. “I’m coming.”
I plunged into her, in, out, slow, fast, out, in, slow, whispering, chanting, You feel so fucking good, so amazing, baby, you’re so tight, swiveling my hips to the rhythm that my body demanded of me. I gripped her shoulders tighter, nipping on her clavicle, clenching my teeth as I grunted, “Ahh, I’m commming!”
I stayed inside her long after I climaxed. When I pulled out, I stared at her and she had a small smile on her face. “I guess you really missed me.”
I grinned at her, standing up so I could get rid of the condom in the bathroom. I noticed there was light pink streaks on it. Not much, but it was there. Proof of her giving herself to a man for the first time.
I grabbed a small towel from underneath the sink and let the warm water soak through it.
When I returned to the room, I found her curled to the side, her body flawlessly naked against the dark sheets.
I asked her to open her legs, and I wiped her with the warm towel. She was smiling at me the whole time. I noticed her face was orange, like she had said, but the color negligible to the sparkle in her eyes, the warm flush all over her body, and the enormity of what she had just given me as it slowly sank to the deep recesses of my brain.
“Thank you, baby.” I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.
She was twenty-four. She could have given it to anyone. I’d seen her in clothes that would garner a reaction from any man, even those celibate monks. One couldn’t help but think that she’s had her way around men, from the way she dressed, the way she talked. But nothing could be farther from the truth. Virginity wasn’t a big deal nowadays. It wasn’t to me either. Until now. Until her.
I liked her a lot. I also cared for her a lot.
Right there and then, I made a silent vow, a promise.
I would make myself worthy of her.
In every possible way.
“So you had someone put that shit on your face and you didn’t know how you were gonna react to it?” She was presently telling me how she had a pumpkin facial and it stained her face. Her hair was wet from the quick hot shower that we just had. I dried it with the blue towel I had placed between my lap and her head.
We were lounging on the couch, waiting for the Thai food to arrive. She’d wanted Thai food, she said she hasn’t had enough of it since her trip.
“My face stung during the facial. I mean when the aesthetician slathered the mask on my face, I yelped because it hurt a lot. I felt like my face was thrusted in front of an open fire.”
I gently caressed her forehead. “Does it hurt here?”
“It doesn’t hurt now. It’s just annoying that I look like this.” Her pink lips pouted, her gray eyes looking up at me, waiting on my verdict.
“Baby, you’re the hottest Oompa Loompa out there.” I held back laughing, giving her a small grin instead. Tracing the lines of her face, I said, “I’m not gonna lie, you remind me of Halloween…but you still look beautiful.” She did. She always did.
“Halloween?” Her brows shot up.
“Because of the orange.”
She slapped my hand and tried to wave it away. I dipped my head down, intent on scoring a kiss.
She kept her mouth shut. I slowly bit on her lower lip, coaxing her to open up. Little by little she did. She stroked my mouth with her tongue, lightly, forcefully, alternating the pressure, biting on my tongue, sucking on my lips, her hands gliding over and around my neck, asking me to lean down lower. We were busy in our win-win game of kissing that led to me rearranging her position on the couch. On top of me, she was a sight to see – her hair slightly wet and tangled in my hands, the shades of gray in her eyes turning into a fiery, feral black, and the clawing of her hands, her nails behind my neck, my back, my chest – damn, she was a spitfire.
Knock, knock, knock.
Something was pounding on my door.
Knock, knock.
Again.
Who the hell would be knocking at this hour?
Ava pulled away, her breathing hard, her eyes glazed, “Thai food.”
Oh shit, yeah, Thai food.
She uncrossed her legs from under mine, stood up, slightly unbalanced. I held her waist with my hands and lifted up my gray UCONN shirt from the edges and kissed her navel. She was wearing my dark blue boxer shorts with nothing underneath. She asked if she could borrow my clothes after our shower, it wasn’t a big deal. She could wear my clothes anytime. She looked a hundred times better, sexier in them anyways.
Clearly knowing what I was about to do, before I could pull down her shorts, she said, “Babe, the poor guy’s been knocking for a while now.”
“Not my fault my girlfriend makes me horny.”
Her eyes widened and she let out a little gasp, almost in disbelief, “Girlfriend?”
If the delivery guy wasn’t here, she’d get a spanking right about now. Of course she was my girlfriend. “Yeah, you got a problem with th
at?”
I gave her one last kiss on her still-open mouth and walked to my bedroom, grabbing my jeans from the floor to take my wallet out, and came back out to pay the delivery guy. I gave him a twenty percent tip, considering that he said he’d been knocking for almost fifteen minutes. Usually I was alert about my surroundings, a light sleeper, and heard footsteps ten feet away from me, which was an asset both in fighting and when I was swimming. I could tell when someone was creeping up behind me, enabling me to react quicker, faster, make my move before other people can. But Ava, around me, underneath me, basically anytime she’s near me, she takes that all away. All I see is her. All I hear is her. All I feel is her. My dad used to say, “When your mom’s around, all that matters is her.” I never fully understood that, didn’t give much thought to it. He was half-Italian. It was the romantico in him.