by Claire Adams
“Sure.” I knew it was because she didn’t want him to see her cry. “Here, I can get it.”
“Thank you.” She kept her head turned when she walked back into the living room.
When I opened the door to my father’s room, I gave him a quick look. It was a game that I’d been playing. I had to measure his condition without looking at him too long, or else I’d start crying. I didn’t do it often; I wasn’t a crier, but it happened.
Blip, blip, blip, blip. I wanted to put the heart monitor on silent, but my mom insisted we keep it on, saying there was always a chance. The chemo seemed to eat away at everything it touched, especially the heart.
The hissing sound from the oxygen tank was just as bad. My father was getting smaller, deflating slowly, and his oxygen mask looked horrendous. He’d shrunk so much that it covered most of his cheeks now, and the bones stuck out the top, a stark reminder of the skeleton beneath.
I set his macaroni down on his tray and started to turn around, but his eyes opened, and he stared at me. He smiled and took off his mask in the slow, trembling way he moved after treatments. “I love you, sweetie,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Daddy.” I took his hand and squeezed it. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.” He tried to steady his hand when he grabbed his fork and managed to do it all right. He picked up a bite and pulled it up to his mouth.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
“I can manage. I have to do some things for myself.”
It was about dignity, a sacred principle in our household. “All right, Daddy.” I walked out and went back into the kitchen to make my mom a plate. She sat in the living room with her head laid back and her eyes closed.
“Mom,” I said.
She turned to me with drooping eyes.
“Here, I made you a plate.”
“No, I’m all right, sweetie.”
“I know you’re not eating.” I set it down on the couch next to her.
She stared at it for a second, then turned back to the TV. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to take care of yourself.” I put the plate in her lap and sat down next to her. “Part of the reason I’m doing this is to take some of the pressure off you.”
“I can’t sit here all day. I have to stay busy, and I can’t just rely on you to pay the bills.”
“I’m more than old enough to shoulder some of the burden,” I said. My phone vibrated in my pocket. “Will you do me a favor and eat a little bit?”
“Of course,” she said and took a bite.
“I’ll be back.” I walked into the kitchen. I had a missed call from Jake. I felt a sudden rush pound through me. I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it just as bad as he did.
Jake lived in a different world, with sexy cars, a huge bank account, and a mansion. Nobody in his world had cancer. They didn’t have to work three jobs. They had nice houses, careers, and a bright future ahead of them. It was a different reality, tantalizing and sweet, but it was fake, just an escape. At least I got to spend a few moments inside it.
The rush only got worse when I started to call him. My heart pounded.
“Hey,” he said, answering quickly. He wanted me bad. I could hear how eager he was.
“Hey,” I said, a little awkwardly.
“You think you could come over in an hour or so? I hope it’s not a bad time.”
Even if it was, I’d still come, just to get away. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be there.”
“Good, I’ll see you soon.”
There was a pause while I waited for him to hang up, but he didn’t. “Okay, see you soon.”
“Hey, Mom.” I poked my head into the living room. “I gotta work. Will you two be okay while I’m gone?”
“Huh?” She was so dazed when she looked at me, like she was ready to fall asleep. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks.” I gave her a quick hug and went into my room to change. When I got to the house, I lifted my hand to knock on the door, and Jake opened it before I could. He grabbed me by the wrist and jerked me inside. Then he slammed me against the door.
He pushed himself close to me and rested his forehead against mine. I was caught in the sound of his breathing and the heat coming off his body.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said in a low whisper that sent chills down my neck and mixed with the heat from his breath.
“I want you,” I whispered, and reached down to grab his cock.
He let out a deep breath, then pushed against me to press his cock up against my jeans. He dove in with his teeth bared, and he dug into my neck, pulling up the skin with his lips. I jolted at the sensation. He lowered his head slowly, digging in deeper each time.
I wrapped my arm around his back and held on, just so I had something to cling to. The tension, the heat, and the scent of his cologne lulled me into a deep trance state where only the feeling mattered.
He traced his finger down my side, over the curve of my hips, then slapped my butt and held on, plunging his finger between my thighs. He pressed in, pulled back, and pressed in, all while grazing his lips and teeth over my neck. Then he moved down to my chest. The closer he got to my breasts, the more my skin tingled with anticipation.
He thrust his hips back and forth, pressed it against my opening, and kept it there while he pulled up my shirt. His teeth dug in deeper, and his cock pressed me hard against the door. His mouth worked down my neck and into the space just above my breasts.
He pulled my shirt up higher and let his palm slide up closer to my bra. His fingers slipped up under it, over my areola, then my nipple. The tingling sensation turned into sweet, intoxicating anticipation. His nail scraped against my nipple, sending a jolt through me.
He pulled my shirt up over my head and threw it off. His lips moved instantly down to the space between my breasts. I noticed him looking at me out of the corner of his eye and realized just how badly he wanted to see me react. That’s what he wanted. He didn’t care about the feeling, or even the final moment. He was a slave to my whims, my desires. It was all about getting into my head.
I caught his eyes and bit my bottom lip. His fingers were sweet fire, circling my areola and grasping at my nipple. He started softly at first. Then with each grip, he gripped harder and harder until that fire turned into a sharp jolt that flew down between my legs and took hold like a ravaging beast.
Every touch was another pulse, another throb, a sweet warmth that built up, stronger, harder, until it became uncontrollable. His hand traced up my side and reached behind my back to unclasp my bra. He threw it behind him and dove in to devour my breasts.
He tore into my nipple, pinching the other with his nails. The pleasure, the pain, the burn. It was all so blissful. He was an animal, taking every part of me in and sending me reeling. I let my head fall back and told myself to give in to it. That was the only thing I could think of to get through what he was doing. It was too overwhelming, but there was no withstanding it. My body tensed up, and moisture dripped between my legs, staining my jeans. I wanted him. I wanted him so badly, I was salivating. And he hadn’t even taken my pants off.
I was aroused by the way he lost control, like he was a slave to his desires and no force of will could possibly stop it. His instincts were too strong. Human thought, planning, and decision-making had all taken a backseat to his need to feel my body writhing below him.
He didn’t plan on pulling me up and cradling me in his arms, or bending me over against the couch. It was all base, animal instinct, and it scared me to think that something like that could be taking over, moving through me, but that was part of the excitement. I couldn’t just give myself over to him. I needed him to take every last bit of me. I didn’t just need him inside me. I needed him to use me and to hear him grunting, taking pleasure in the carnal act.
He moved his hand down my crack and over my lips while his cock pressed into me. The back and forth movement and the pressure of his f
inger teased the moisture out of me. It turned my throbbing into a deep shudder that escaped my lips in a soft sigh.
His fingers were a tease, walking up my back, over my stomach, then onto to my breast. This wasn’t just about making me scream anymore. It was about exploration and the idea of feeling me, reaffirming the act. He held onto my breast with one hand and flicked his thumb back and forth over my nipple. My breath moved faster. It lost its steady pace, and now it pounded in and out.
His cock hardened with every push. His fingers hooked into my belt loops, and he swept my pants down, revealing my naked body below. “No underwear?” He laughed and smacked my butt.
My head flew up, and I took a sharp breath through bared teeth. He laughed and smacked me again with his cock digging between my thighs. He let the head rest on my clit, and I squeezed my legs together. I felt his cock pulsing, the blood gathering. His finger flitted back and forth over my nipple, and his hips moved back and forth to a steady, rhythmic beat, pressing deep each time.
The warm, tingling sensation between my thighs grew, getting hotter as the moisture gathered, readying my body to take him in. The head of his cock pressed through my lips. I wasn’t tingling any longer. It was a burst of energy, a growing star, twisting through me with heat blazing out from all sides, hungry for more.
He pressed the head through again, and I gasped. He held it there, and his teeth clamped down with a sharp jolt to my nipple. When he pulled his cock out, my legs trembled. I couldn’t contain this beast inside me. Soon, I’d lose control, and it would explode. Moisture would flood out, and the wave would be unbearable, but it wouldn’t be enough. I needed his cock.
He reached around and pulled his finger over my clit, like he was lighting a match. The burst of fire was instant, a sharp burn that pulled me back, straight into his cock. He grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed himself through, deep inside, onto my spot.
He swung his hips back and forth, a steady motion that streamed through me. I tensed up as his dick slipped in, then out, and back again. He relished the moment, taking in the sweet succulence. I kept my legs together as tight as I could, hoping to increase his pleasure.
He moaned louder now that he moved faster. His animal instincts had fully taken over. He wasn’t taking his time or trying to draw things out. He’d gotten a taste. Now he needed the whole thing. I was being devoured from the inside out, and there was nothing that could stop him.
He pulled me into it, one hand on my shoulders, another on my clit. He’d clamped onto it, and with every thrust, he pressed harder. The boiling ball of liquid heat inside me grew in magnitude and proportion, eating at everything it touched. It tried to push outwards into the rest of my body. Jake pressed in on it, his cock piercing the thin veil holding it in. It started to trickle out.
He was merciless, drilling through, each time moving faster, hitting my spot, like flint to steel, as the ball inside me grew bigger. My frantic breath and the sound of his strained grunts added fuel to the flames, digging further inside me, threatening to overtake me.
He breathed fast, and sweat dripped down his legs, sticking to mine, mingling with the scent of sex and the raw energy colliding between us. My mouth fell open, and my head flew back with a sharp, piercing cry. The heat exploded through me, all over my body. One wave met another and another, each stronger than the last, flowing over my stomach, my chest, my neck, and head.
A wet stream flowed into my body, and I felt Jake pull out. When I turned over, he was already wiping his dick off. “I can’t believe I’m getting paid to do this,” I told him. “This is the best job ever.”
“I’m jealous,” he said. “You’ve got it good.”
I stood up and started to pull on my pants. My bra and shirt were in the foyer, so I walked over, picked them up, and put them on.
He followed me. “Would you like to have dinner? I always get hungry after.”
“Sure, what were you thinking?” I asked.
“Whatever you want.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Anything?” I asked.
“Come here.” He motioned for me to follow him through the double doors to the right of the entrance. We walked through a long, rectangular room with mahogany walls and a table that matched. I ran my finger over the top of the table and realized that gold inlay lined the edge.
He led me through a door at the end of the hall and into an industrial kitchen, where two women wearing white uniforms sat at a metal table near the back wall talking. One caught sight of Jake, and her eyes went wide. The other stopped what she was doing, and they both got up and ran to meet us.
“Hello,” the first said. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“I just wanted to show my friend the kitchen,” Jake said.
The one that hadn’t spoken stood behind her friend, giving me a look of disgust. I smiled at her, and she looked away. Jake didn’t seem to notice, but I knew he did. It probably bothered him to have girls act the way they did around him.
“We just got some fresh lobster in,” the talkative one said.
“Lobster,” I said, my mouth watering.
“You want lobster?” Jake asked.
“Dear God, yes.”
“Maybe some white wine risotto,” the talker suggested.
“Yes, that’d be divine,” I said.
“That’s it, then. You girls take your time.” Jake walked me out of the kitchen.
“This house is amazing,” I said, staring up at the chandelier. It looked like tiny crystals raining from the ceiling.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’d prefer something smaller, easier to keep up with, but this is more practical for company events, and I need the security.”
“I’m sure you do. It seems like everywhere we go, there’s a female with a stick up her butt.”
“They all think I’m the one,” Jake laughed.
“I see.” I nodded my head, unsure of what to think. Maybe he didn’t believe in love, like the women at the party said.
“I’m sure you’ll want to get cleaned off for dinner,” he said.
“That would be nice.”
“Come on; I’ll show you upstairs.” We walked up the marble staircase, past the maze of second story corridors, into the long hall at the top of the stairs. There were only two doors there. I couldn’t figure out why at first. The hall was too long, but when he opened the door at the end, and I saw how big his room was, it made sense.
It was gorgeous, with a golden, Versailles flair. The bed frame was white with gilded edges, the double closet doors were mirrored with golden handles, and the four corners of the ceiling were sculpted posts. Blooming flowers with leaves rimmed the walls.
He opened the closet and walked inside. I followed him to get a look. He wasn’t an organized man, though he did have a system. All of his T-shirts were on one end, his jeans on another, and his dress clothes were on the back wall.
He pulled a robe out of a drawer on the back wall and handed it to me. “Everything you need is in the bathroom.”
“Thank you.” I took the robe and walked into the bathroom to get undressed. The bathroom was larger than my parents’ living room. It had three sinks, a Jacuzzi tub, and a TV on the wall to my right that he could look at through the reflection on his vanity mirror.
I could spend years walking through his house, learning its secrets. Everything was custom-made. The TV sat in a gilded picture frame, and the counter was etched marble. When I turned the shower on, steam flew out the glass door, enveloping me in a cloud of warmth.
I took my time, letting the water pour down my body, washing away the sweat. I closed my eyes and rolled my head back to let the water drip down my hair. I could stay in there forever, letting the soft stream flow down my chest and over my stomach.
I heard the sliding glass door open, and a pair of hands grasped my shoulders. Jake kneaded my muscles and moved his thumbs down my back. He was a master. His fingers flowed like water, a sensual wave that melted the te
nsion away.
“I love the way you look when you’re wet,” he whispered in my ear. I could feel his hard cock resting against my crack. He pressed me up against the wall and let his hands slowly travel down the curve of my back. He knew just where touch me, and he was never rough or domineering. He never dug into the wrong spot.
Instead, he focused on the soft, neglected places where I needed him to go while his lips moved down the back of my neck. He pressed his hips in, and I bent forward with my hands up on the slippery wall. There was no bracing myself against it. He was a force of nature, driven by an insatiable hunger. The man had no limit. He could go as long as he wanted to, as often as he wanted to.
He wrapped his arm around my stomach and shoved his cock between my thighs. It was slippery and passed easily through my lips, where he rested his head on my clit. He held his hard length, moving it up and down while his other hand cupped my breast.
His body pressed against mine. His chest rested against my back, both arms wrapped around me. He slid closer to my opening and pushed himself through. His head rested inside me, ready to burst through while his lips moved down my neck.
He pushed in slowly, driven by my shuddering cry. When he pulled back, he let his head rest at the entrance, then slammed in so fast that I jolted. He wasn’t going to take his time. I could sense his desire. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and he was losing control, growling as he drove past, hit my spot, then back again.
The water pounded down my back, slid over my hips, and combined with the warmth of his body. The tempo was unbearable, so forceful and animalistic. I wasn’t sure I could take it, but I needed it.
He pounded in and out of me. His fingers twirled around my nipples. His cock hit my clit, and I shuddered. The force of his movements combined with the heat building inside me. It was ready to force its way out from between my trembling legs.
He slammed in and let it rest with a harsh grunt. The warm stream that shot out caught my breath, and I was lost in the wave that emanated out from between my legs, down my thighs, and up over my stomach.