Flash Drive

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  He stood and unzipped while he looked into her eyes. In a husky voice he said, “I want you to see what you do to me. What the sight of you displayed like this does to me.”

  He pulled out his penis and showed her its impressive length, its thick girth. He wrapped a fist around it and pumped to show her the wetness she had caused to ooze from him and to pool at the tip.

  She let out a groan that ended with a needy whimper. “I want that. In me.”

  “You’re gonna get this. In you. But not yet.”

  She sobbed and begged . . . “Please . . . please Garrett. I need you.”

  He stood in front of her and held her face between his hands. His erection grazed her hip and he felt her turn toward it, felt the trail of moisture it left with each uncontrollable jerk. He was on fire, harder than he’d ever been and just as needy as she was. As he kissed her lightly on the lips, her chin and her forehead, he whispered, “Soon, baby, soon.”

  He slid slowly down her body, grazing her with his fingertips as he dropped to the floor in front of her. He kissed every inch of her underwear, starting from the top and working his way to the tiny cotton triangle between her legs. She shifted to meet his lips and sobbed his name over and over again. He murmured his delight; bestowing lingering kisses where her thighs met her legs. “Mmm, you smell so good, baby. I can’t wait to taste you.”

  Using his teeth, he slowly dragged her panties down her thighs. Saw them glide to her ankles. Waited as she stepped out and kicked them across the floor. Then he concentrated on the lightly furred blonde thatch between her legs.

  “Mmm, such a pretty golden brown, you must be a real blonde. Oh my, what a sweet wet slit.” His thumbs spread her and dipped into the silky moisture.

  She keened and opened herself to him, her head thrashing back and forth. “God Garrett, I can’t take it anymore!”

  “I know baby,” he crooned, then leaned in and circled her clit with his tongue. He dabbed at it. Flicked it mercilessly. When he felt the convulsions begin he sucked it in. Felt her thighs tremble and shifted her legs to his shoulders. Heard her hiss, followed by a long low moan, and knew she was toppling over the precipice. As her release took her, he kept a steady tug on her clit while his practiced fingers impaled her. He finger fucked her and sucked her first orgasm out of her, then he ground his light beard like a buzz saw against her pubes. Felt her milking the fingers he was shoving into her vagina. He removed her legs from his shoulders; stood and dropped his pants, and kicked them aside to begin working on the third one.

  Wrapping his arms under her thighs, he lifted her and held her suspended high enough to take the pressure off her arms. He gripped an ass cheek in each large hand and held her to him as he probed her with his penis, finding her valley of nirvana, slick, hot and welcoming, he shoved into her over and over again. He lifted from his knees to get the angle he wanted and thought he might have to pay for a new bed as the poster she was tied to creaked and the wood threatened to split with each forceful thrust. He felt her quicken and he sped up. Heard her scream and covered it with his mouth. Then nothing else registered as they both shattered. He drove home one final time, holding her tight to him and spilling his seed deep inside her.

  When he could move, he slid out of her and dropped her feet to the carpet. He reached up and unbuckled his belt. Garrett kissed her neck as he unwound the belt, dropping it to the floor with a loud thud.

  He lifted her up, placed her gently onto the foot of the bed, laid her back, and massaged her wrists. He bent and kissed them tenderly, sucking at the soft, fragile skin. Then he kissed her on the lips. “I can now attest to the fact that your orgasms taste delicious,” he said as he assessed her face. She still looked otherworldly. “You all right?”

  “I am perfect,” she purred, “I feel like I just had the best sex there could be.”

  He smiled, “Well, that’s quite a compliment, so I’ll take it.”

  She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I don’t know how you do it, but you push all the right buttons. And at just the right moment. Although I was begging for it sooner, you made me wait. How do you know how to do that?”

  “It’s called delayed gratification. It’s a major element in Tantric sex. And it works especially well with women who are on the naughty side,” he said with a grin, as he ran a finger down her nose.

  “Am I on the naughty side?”

  “Oh, you most definitely are. Here, let’s get this off; you’re getting lines all over your pretty breasts.” He unsnapped her bra from the front and peeled it off. “Better?”

  She nodded. He tugged off his shirt and snuggled her into his chest.

  They held each other and relaxed, enjoying the afterglow of some awesomely hot sex. Then Garrett got up to get them each some water before pulling up the covers, tucking them under the sheets and throwing on the thick comforter.

  He pulled her to his chest and stroked her back as he rubbed his lips along her temple. “So you’re okay with staying here with me until Tuesday?”

  “Sure. I don’t have to be back at any special time.”

  “Good. I want to spend some time with you.” He looked down at her upturned face. “And not all of it in bed.”

  “Technically, we weren’t in bed.”

  “Okay, I amend that to, not all of it in the bedroom.”

  “You’ve been known to utilize vehicles.”

  “Let me start over. I want to get to know you, in a non-sexual way.”

  “We won’t have sex?”

  “I didn’t say that. We will have sex. And we will eat, and walk, and talk. Sex is important, but so are other things. Besides Spear has to have time to regroup.”

  “Spear?”

  He lifted the covers and pointed to his recovering and already randy penis. “Laurel meet Spearman, Spear for short.”

  “I believe we’ve met. In fact, we’re intimately acquainted. I think he’s regrouped.”

  “He’s going to have to wait for morning, I need some sleep.”

  “It is morning.”

  He looked over at the clock. It was 2:30. “Sleep with me. I’m the one who needs to regroup. Loving you is exhausting.”

  “Are you saying you love me?”

  “There is that distinct possibility. Let’s just say, I’m working on it. How about you?”

  “I’m pretty much in the done-deal range. But I could use more time to process it.”

  “Hmmm, me too. Hence . . . three days in Charleston. Go to sleep.” He smacked her on the rump.

  She huffed, “I thought we were regrouping.”

  He laughed and turned her so he could hold her in his arms, her back to his front. “Only you would think of a smack to your butt as a call-to-arms.”

  Chapter Sixty-one

  They slept late, had a nice leisurely breakfast at the hotel, ducked into a few shops and were now walking arm-in-arm along the battery, smiling, laughing, and feeding flavored Jelly Bellys to each other. Originally, the idea had been for an inspired run around the battery, so they had dressed casually, she in black lotus capris with a matching garden print Branwyn top and Keds, him in surfer shorts and a crew-neck tee with running shoes. But after a full breakfast, the idea of walking had seemed to appeal more.

  “Tell me about your first sexual experience,” he said.

  “You mean first kiss? First feel up?”

  “No, first he-got-to-home base.”

  “Oh, that. No great shakes there, I often wish we hadn’t left the movie.”

  “That bad?”

  “Yeah, I think I would much rather have seen the end of The Pianist.”

  “I gather he didn’t make you come? What was the matter, didn’t he prepare you?”

 
“To be honest, it wasn’t all his fault. When I realized I didn’t really want this guy to be my first, I did the time-honored remedy and went down on him, hoping for a reprieve. And that went all right, but then not ten minutes later, he’s ready again and this time he’s not going for the diversionary tactic—he wants the real deal. He kind of shamed me into it.

  “Told me I’d led him on all evening, did things to get him all wound up. He thought the blowjob was foreplay, whereas I thought it was the alternative. He kept kissing me and touching me in all the right places, and he called on my sense of fair play. I acquiesced. I mean, I was curious. But I sure wished I’d waited. He wasn’t the one. I liked him, and he told me I was beautiful, and I loved hearing how much he wanted me. Actually, I was thrilled that he wanted me so badly that it seemed his penis couldn’t get enough. And he seemed so damned determined to have me. He was older, more experienced. I was kind of in his thrall I guess you could say, amazed by his knowledge of a woman’s body.”

  “But yet he didn’t pleasure you?”

  “No. I loved the kissing and the fondling. But when it came down to it, it really was more about him than about me. I understood that, he was my boyfriend and I wanted to please him.”

  “Submissive tendencies even then,” he said, running a finger down her nose. “You’re a born submissive, you know that?” He kissed her thoroughly, letting his tongue play leisurely with hers. “Could he have tied you up?”

  “No. That would have really scared me back then.”

  They were at the end of a walkway. They turned and continued down an oyster shell path. “How often have you been having sex up to now?”

  “You know that it’s been several years since I’ve been with someone.”

  “Yes, but surely you diddle yourself . . . do things . . . ”

  There was a long pause while she blushed crimson. She hesitated before saying, “I do. I admit it. But I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to you about my love affair with the middle finger of my right hand.”

  He laughed, squeezed her hand then brought the aforementioned finger to his lips and kissed it. “I’m right handed too, but it takes more than a finger for me.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes then she asked, “How about you? Your first sexual adventure, what was it like?”

  He heaved out a huge sigh as if he wasn’t certain he should tell the tale. Then he jumped in, “The first time I became really aware of the power of lust, I had just turned fourteen. I was beginning to find out the things that worked for me when I found myself captive to an event that would forever be responsible for sending huge volumes of heated blood to my penis whenever I recalled it, often so quickly that I felt I would swoon from the sudden jolt. Just hearing the word basement is still enough to flood my loins and bring on the tingly realm of headiness, nearly twenty years later.

  “Although my school chums were friendly, I was not often included in anything unless it required money. Early on, I’d been tagged the guy who always had a spare buck on him, which was odd as all I was doing was pocketing my lunch money and waiting until I got home to make a sandwich before anyone came home. But eighty cents a day plus my allowance added up quickly back then.

  “I was putting my books in my locker when Tom Rainey bumped my shoulder, ‘Hey, you wanna see some titties, real ones?’

  “I remember I looked at him askance, I can still feel my eyebrow cocked. This was a strange question coming from an even stranger kid. This is how I remember the conversation:

  “‘Seriously, come with me. Joe’s gonna have a show,’ he said.

  “‘I don’t want to see Joe’s titties,’ I said.

  “‘Not his, you twit, his sister’s. He’s putting on the show, but she’s the one providing the goods. Costs ya a dollar and you can look all you want.’

  “‘You’re joking. Isn’t his sister Margie? She’s only twelve.’

  “‘Yeah, but she’s got nice tits already.’

  “‘And she wants to show them off?’

  “‘Hell, I don’t know. All I know is that Joe’s taking a dollar from each of us for a look, a long look as he tells it. You comin’ or not?’

  “‘Sure, I got a dollar I’m not usin’, I’m in.’

  “ Then get yourself over to Joe’s basement as soon as you get off the bus. He’s gotta do this before his parents get home from work.’

  “As I sat on the bus, I tried to remember Margie, what she looked like, how she walked, how she talked. But honestly, I hadn’t paid much attention to her. The last time I’d seen her she was a bit on the chunky side and had freckles all over her. I really wasn’t all that interested. She attended the private Catholic school on the other side of town because she had won the mandated scholarship they gave to the underprivileged, so I hadn’t seen her in a year or two. I decided I’d better go, otherwise they’d probably start calling me a queer or something if they thought I wasn’t interested in looking at girls’ tits.

  “I got off at the bus stop by Joe’s house and was met at the door by Joe, who snickered and took my dollar before letting me in. I was told to go down to the basement and wait with the others. I sat on the lumpy rec room sofa next to four other guys I recognized but hardly knew. As it was February, in Maryland, the basement was damp and cold. We sat with our hands in our laps pretty much twiddling our thumbs until the bright fluorescent overhead lights were turned off by an upstairs switch. Then Joe came barreling down the stairs, switched on the table lamp by a recliner and popped into a seat. ‘We’re ready!’ he called out and two minutes later I heard someone coming down the stairs.

  “It took her forever to get down the steps and then another eternity for her to walk to the front of the room and turn to face us. I looked at her chest. She was wearing a white blouse with a round collar and it was buttoned up tight, right up against her throat. Through her shirt you could tell that she filled out her bra. She was taller than the last time I’d seen her, and still on the heavy side.

  “‘Go on, you know what you gotta do,’ Joe said, with a wave of his hand in the direction of her chest.

  “I looked at her face and could see where tears had dried on her cheeks. Her lips trembled. And God help me, knowing that she didn’t want to do this made it all that much hotter. I remember feeling ashamed for thinking that, and for not putting a stop to this.

  “She just stood there as if frozen in place until her brother yelled at her,

  ‘Unbutton your shirt and take off your brassiere. You agreed.’

  “After a few seconds her fingers moved to the top button. I knew from the way her fingers shook that if she had agreed, it had to have been for a reason. But I didn’t care. Just like the others, I wanted to see her tits, even if she didn’t want to show them to me. It was my first experience with peer pressure, and it was stronger than I’d imagined. Even knowing right from wrong, I was captivated.

  “All around me everyone’s breathing changed as each button was undone and we could see her pale skin and her white no-nonsense bra. There were eight of us, including her brother, and we all held our breath as Margie slowly unbuttoned the last button. When I saw her pale creamy skin, freckled all over, and her pointy white bra with the full cups, I felt my cock grow and move against my hands that were folded in my lap. When her brother stood and pulled the sleeves down her arms and took the shirt from her, my breath hitched. I think everyone else’s did, too. I heard someone cough and wheeze.

  “‘Now the brassiere. Just unhook it and let it fall to the floor.’

  “Her dark blue eyes suddenly looked defiant and she stared at her brother with hatred in her tear-filled eyes.

  “He was unaffected. ‘Do you want me to tell, because I will. You know I will.’

  “I knew without a doubt then that she was being coerced. I wondered
what he had on her that would cause her to do this? Her hands reached behind her and she unsnapped her bra and I no longer cared that he was extorting her. I wanted to see her breasts. I wanted to see her nipples.

  “The bra straps slid down her arms and fell to the floor and then I saw them. Everyone saw them. Full, round mounds, covered with tiny freckles topped with peach-colored nipples jutting out proudly even as she stood with her head down, ashamed. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds before I came. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my secret from being known, even as the damp spot on my lap bloomed. The others followed, not at all embarrassed by the sounds they were making. It seemed the only one in the room who hadn’t come was Joe. He reached out and cupped her breast, and then he bent to take one of her nipples into his mouth. I think I came again; I was never sure about that part. But I thought that I might have. We watched him fondle her as she keened in misery and then he unzipped his pants and dropped them.

  “ ‘Get on your knees and suck me,’ he yelled.

  “ ‘No,’ she whimpered and shook her head back

  and forth.

  “‘Do as I say! If you don’t . . .’

  “I watched as he pushed her to her knees and forced her mouth open before shoving his dick inside. She began to suck on him and between sobs, I heard her pleading with him to let her stop.

  “I couldn’t stand it anymore; she obviously did not want this, not one part of it, even though it appeared this wasn’t an entirely new thing for her.

  “I jumped up and pushed him away from her then I drew my fist back and smashed it into his face. His arms flailed and he fell backward landing on the matted shag carpeting. He was out or at least he appeared to be.

  “‘What’s he got on you? Why are you doing this?’ I demanded, looking Margie in the eye, trying real hard not to look at her breasts anymore.