Forever Distraction

by Stephanie Jean

  At some point, my role is no longer an act, and I imagine this is how it would be. This is what we would’ve been like if I was her pool boy as a teenager and still untainted by the club, if I was younger and chose the long brush to scour a pool instead of learning to perfect the ropes and chains, all before my mind and body were desensitized to tenderness and innocence.

  I hold perfectly still as I get a visual of her mouth bobbing on my cock. Her hands busily stroke and massage and I get lost in the rhythm. I assume she’ll stop, that she’ll want me to use some of my new pool-scrubbing skills on her, but she never lets up and I feel the familiar pull from the bottom of my stomach and stirring in my balls. She pulls her mouth off me and strokes me as I release in hard spurts.

  It’s too easy; I’m fragile and lack the ability to stop, so I don’t. I come all over her naked body, starting at her luscious mouth and gliding, streaming it downward. My pretend-innocence is gone now, left as proof on her shapes and curves, and bubbled on her rosy lips. Her eyes darken, almost completely taken over by her black pupils, and control and power lie behind them. She appears almost angry, like she’s the predator and I’m about to be eaten alive.

  “Shit…fuck…it was…I was…it happened…fast.” I’m suddenly apologetic, and I’m not sure if I’m just really into my role as that teenage boy on my first sexual adventure with this beautiful girl, or if it’s the lack of sex for the last two days, but either way, she’s the hunter, and I can feel her crazed fixation.

  She stands slowly, calculatedly, unhurriedly, and squares her shoulders, turning on her toes and leaving the pool storage room. I follow, unsure why, but it’s like my first time isn’t quite over, and I’m curious where she’s going. She slides open the glass door to the pool house and steps inside, leaving the door open for me. Bo trails me, but stalls just outside the entrance to lie down on the grass.

  I quickly step inside, but she’s gone, disappeared, and I have to wonder why. I walk through the two-bedroom pool house, listening for any crack or creak, but it’s dead silent. I pause when I hear her heavy breathing and my victory smile crawls across my lips. She’s playing hide-and-seek; she loves this game. I bend my knees when I realize the sound is coming from beneath the bed. The bed is high and I easily slip under it. I slide in until I reach her side, still flat on my back. My heart hammers with every breath. Am I nervous or excited?

  “Shhh,” she breathes, “he’ll find us.” I tilted my head toward her, wanting to protect her, because her words make me feel like this is real and she’s scared, and there’s nothing I hate more than when she’s scared. “My father wouldn’t like you in here with me,” she whispers and I swallow. “He doesn’t know how bad I want you.” Her breath hits my shoulder.

  And then it happens…she slithers over me, quickly and effectively crawls on top of me. Her body’s flesh is pressed to mine in this small, confined space. She inhales a deep breath as she grips my hard cock and wastes no time steering it inside her. She’s a horny teenage girl, and she isn’t ashamed of her needs. I get it, but I’m surprised, taken aback.

  My rod easily glides in and I instantly feel her everywhere—her hot breath on my neck, her stomach tight to mine, her hands skimming up my arms and resting in my hair as she moves. I tilt my head to the side, because the insane need to kiss her is overwhelming, but when I opened my mouth to take hers, she only moans, softly whimpers, and intoxicatingly squeals. I can’t move; I can’t control how or when she gets off. Even my hands are struggling to move out from under my body as she moves.

  Fuck. My heart races and the familiar stirring is happening…and I feel this for her, only her. Her rigid movements are climbing and I swallow all of her noises, and for the first time, I convince myself it’s my do-over, my first time renewed. She comes in silence, her body stiff, her channel tightening around me, and then her weight on me relaxes. Her scent in this confined space wafts and my mouth waters at the sweet smell of her lust. For a long while, she rests against my body all sweaty and limp, and I sense her smile on my chest, happy with her actions. Quietly, she breathes me in. We’re still connected, because I’m like a teenage stallion, and even though I know I came in her mouth and then a little just now, I know I have more to spill in her, or on her.

  A thought crosses my mind. “Why were you upset when I came on you earlier?”

  My inquiry stirs her. “Mmmm…” She sounds sleepy and rolls off of me. She shimmies out from under the bed and then stands, waiting patiently for me to do the same.

  “Earlier…you seemed mad after I…came,” I say self-consciously, and I’m rather happy with my teenage performance.

  Her eyes skate down my body and then lift back to mine. “When I wear your come you’re not supposed to apologize. I’m the girl you playfully stare at every day, and it should rock your world to see your sticky lust all over my skin. Instead, you looked…embarrassed.” She smiles and then bites both lips together, like she’s said too much.

  I observe her closely, my vision falling to her neck and collarbone, down to her rapidly rising chest. She’s nervous and it makes me feel honored, honored I can make her this anxious and aroused at the same time, because her tight nipples tell me she’s definitely aroused. My eyes linger on her dark pink, tempting nipples before falling to her stomach, and then I notice it. I notice white, shiny come fall down her legs. It’s me oozing from her and I immediately feel my heart rate increase, and like I’m underwater, I can’t get enough air. My nostrils flare as if it’s going to help the breathing issue, and I can’t tear my eyes off of me, on her. It never gets old.

  “That’s how you’re supposed to look,” I hear her say, and lift my face to hers. Her lips quirk in the corners, and the rough guy inside me wants to show her who’s the boss, but I close my eyes, wanting this redo to last, needing to remember this fantasy as reality. I want Katarina as my first; I want to take the memory of my first time out and replace it with this moment. I have too many jaded memories. I fight the urge to tie her down and fuck, I fight the urge to throw her on the bed and smother her, and I fight the longing to take her over my knee and swat her perfect little ass. Instead, I open my eyes and see Katarina. I pretend I am eighteen again, cleaning pools for the summer, and this is my first time with a woman.

  My feet move forward and my hand slides up her stomach to her breast, and I run my fingertips over each nipple and watch her chest move as if she’s just finished her morning run. “I grew up around animals,” I state, never making eye contact. “I am a clean guy, no warped visions of porn, but…” I cup her boobs in my hands, loving the softness, “…I’ve watch animals do…it.” I pause, letting her imagine where this is going. “I want you from behind. I want you on the bed facedown.”

  She touches my hands and pulls me from my fog to look at her, and then she smiles a heart-racing, fuck-me, sweet-ass smile that makes me feel lightheaded and dizzy. She never takes her eyes off mine, locked as if she’s reading me and soaking up the want I have for her. She doesn’t hesitate a second longer before spinning on the balls of her feet and laying her stomach on the bed. Her legs spread immediately, hanging over the edge of the bed, and her tiptoes barely remain on the carpeted floor. My vision falls to the upside-down V before me, and she is…flawless. Her muscular legs spread and I can see my trace on her inner thighs. In a haze, I move to touch it.

  My finger trails the wetness up to the source, and I wonder if I even need my knowledge of sex right now. I wonder, because my girl is spread for me, trusting me, watching my fascination, and is one hundred percent turned on without using any of the other stuff. I slide a finger through her folds and spread her warmth over my cock. Then, I lean over her, feeling her soft skin on my chest. I lift my penis and guide it into her, continuing to kiss her shoulder and neck as I ease in and out.

  I want to savor every muscle contraction, every tender pressure around my sensitive cock, and every pleasured hiss that escapes her. She’s my new first, and this, from now on, will be what I remembe
r as my first time. I lose myself in the dance, never breaking my stride, knowing it feels too good to last forever, but wanting this first to be the longest.

  “Harder,” she whispers and a smile creeps over my face. I can’t help it; Katarina never says anything during sex—moans, yes, but requests during actual sex, no. “Harder,” she repeats louder and I lift from her sweaty body and stand ready to aggressively mount her.

  “You like it rough?” I continue my leisurely pattern, liking the control I carry at this moment. She needs me to deliver the raw, unrestrained lust I hold for her. She needs me.

  “Yes…I need to feel you,” she replies, and my heart squeezes a little for the pain she’s had to overcome, the pain she needs still to feel human. I grip her hips tightly and her muscles tighten around me, and then I pound her, slam into her with fierce pleasure, and it feels right; it feels so right. I plunge into her and she cries out for more, begging for it. Fucking…it’s the most perfect sound and I comply, giving her everything I have. Grunts and pleas fill our bubble, the sexy smell and the sweat wrap around us, joining us, making us one, whole. We are united inside our bubble.

  When I come, it’s violent and my body feels the cramping sensation from all of my muscles. It starts in my lower stomach and thighs, and then my toes, and even my neck cramps up. I pull her with me when I lunge for the bed, tugging her snug against my body in the process. As if I’m drowning and she’s my life preserver. My legs and arms wrap around her, and I squeeze her so tight I think she might actually break in two because of the force. I feel my seed fall from her down my thighs, and my fading erection makes a rapid comeback.

  “So…is it too early to talk about your next fantasy?” I ask and she giggles.

  “I want to dance…dress up and dance.” She’s thought about this and it makes me elated, fucking happy as hell I can give her this without screwing it up with my own need to dominate. “I want to have a teenage boy watch me dance and wait for me after the show to tell me how much he enjoyed it.”

  I grow quiet, because for me, it isn’t a fantasy; it was a reality…a reality I don’t want to relive. Yes, I love to watch her dance, but I’m reluctant, because I remember all too clearly the after-part, when she disappeared. I lay there, still clinging to my beauty, but silently wishing she will pick a different fantasy. Maybe, it could be one where she dances for me, but just not that one. She must sense my growing anxiety, because she adds, “But I want you to be blond…could you do that?” She pauses and I hear a smile in her voice.

  “Blond?”

  “Yeah, like Brad Pitt in his younger years,” she says in her serious voice, and I instantly loosen my vise-like hold around her and laugh, because…well…I laugh, because she makes me fucking happy.

  Six Years Later

  Katarina

  I lay my three-month-old, Jason—we call him Jay—down after his 5 am feeding. It is so amazing being a mommy to these tiny little people. So perfect, I am addicted to these little beings. I watch him as his eyelids close and his pacifier moves up and down. I only put a light blanket over him, since he runs hot like his daddy. “Have a good nap, sweet baby Jay.” I tiptoe out of the room and close the door. I’m not worried about waking him; it’s the others I worry about.

  I make my way back to my room and crawl under the cozy covers. I fall right to sleep, waking hours later to kisses on my neck. I’m suddenly cold, so I open my eyes to find my favorite man staring at me, a smile replacing the frown I just had. His gentle finger traces the curve of my bottom. “Good morning,” he whispers, kissing me on my lips.

  “You came home early.” I close my eyes, enjoying his hands on me, missing his touch.

  “I couldn’t sleep without you. It was a long three days.” He talks as he moves over me, caging me in his arms. I smile, knowing what he’s doing. It’s my favorite way to be woken up. His nose dips into the crook of my neck and I feel him licking the sensitive skin there. He’s very tender and loving as he slips himself inside me. He moves in and out of me slowly, and then groans as if it’s torture. I can tell he’s savoring me, enjoying every muscle contraction, and every shiver that takes over my body.

  He showers me with kisses, and it doesn’t take me long to give in to his sweetness. I crave the rougher side, but I’m addicted to his touch. It’s the one thing I can’t live without. I take what I can get. Our quiet, heavy breathing and the movements of the bed are the only noises, making them seem extremely loud, but I enjoy his sounds almost as much as his touch. His movements and breathing pick up; I feel that wonderful shower of pleasure run through my body. He finishes after me and whispers a thank you in my ear. It makes me smile. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to wake up the kids and make breakfast,” he says as he pulls the covers back over me, and I rest my eyes, enjoying my sleepin time.

  I slip out of bed an hour later and stroll through the house, looking at all the pictures on the walls—our wedding photo, a picture of me dancing, and our family pictures. It’s quiet on my walk to the kitchen. The fridge is covered with colored drawings and snapshots of Owen and his girls with each of our kids, all smiling. I stand back and watch the magic happening in the kitchen.

  The kids around Jason each take turns filling him in on what he missed while he was gone. James, our oldest, sits on the counter, stirring the pancake mix. Kristy, our four-and-a-half-year-old, laughs when Jason tugs her hair. She stands close to him on a stepstool. Kailee is in her high chair singing loudly, but not making any sense. She shoves Cheerios in her mouth. The new baby is on the counter strapped in a baby chair, eating his fist and humming. “Are you going to stand in the doorway and stare at me, or do you want to have a seat and do it?”

  I walk in, surprised he still has the ability to sense me with all the other distractions. I sit at the counter and the kids continue their chattering; Jason peeks up at me and winks. A plate of yogurt and fruit is placed before me with some eggs. I eat and watch, enjoying my morning. Jay is hungry when I finish, and I move to the outside patio to feed him.

  I hear Jason before I see him, “I missed that.” I grin at him, but arch my brow in question. “That euphoric look you both have when he latches on.” The man has no boundaries; he’s talking about me breastfeeding. I crinkle my nose at his observation. His serious face is overly focused; he’s concentrating. “Is it weird I find it sexy?”

  “You’re a horn-dog.” I catch his eyes and his smile spreads across his face. I make it a point to roll my eyes, because for some bizarre reason, he loves it and finds it sexy.

  With a smile that reminds me of why I fell in love with him, he makes his way outside to sit with me. My eyes shift to watch Bo and his playmate run around. We found and rescued a female brown lab, and Jason and Bo work with her. She is a dwarf compared to Bo, and it’s fun to watch them play.

  I hear Jason’s voice as I feel his leg rub against mine. “You worked yesterday. How did it go?” I love how he is unaffected by my breastfeeding; he’s so casual. He moves his fingers over Jay’s hair and moving cheek.

  “Yes, I did. Your mom and dad watched the kids all day; Becky helped.” Becky is our nanny and goes everywhere with us. The kids love her, and I get to spend time with my very handsome husband. “I enjoyed my day off from being a mom.” I look up at him and watch his jaw clench. I hate when he clenches his perfect teeth. “I flew to Los Angeles in the morning with Marcus and accomplished a lot. It’s my day to feel human; the one day I work separates me from being attached to someone, and I get to talk to grownups. When I am here, my days run together. When I work, I feel appreciated. I know it sounds crazy, but the break makes me thankful for all of this.” I wave my hand over at the little children making their way out onto the back deck.

  I can never give up the charity; it’s what holds me to my grandfather. His legacy is up to me to keep alive, and I will always work…it’s nonnegotiable. I can sense his struggle at the idea of me working, so I change the subject. “So, how’s Jake? Do you think he will be a great help
this year?” Jake, Jason’s nephew, is still struggling with his anger, so during the summers, we send him with Father Nickels to help at the different charities building schools and houses to keep him busy and out of trouble.

  “Jake is going to do great. He is with Owen and his family right now. Owen wanted me to tell you he is staying in the same room as Jake. I think he’s worried about his daughters more than my nephew. He has my charm and has been flirting with Owen’s girls.” I laugh and he continues, “Your brother stopped in and we went to dinner. He will be at the beach house this summer to visit.”

  I gaze at the little life in my arms, counting all of my blessings. I button my shirt up and put the baby over my shoulder to pat his back as my eyes fall on Jason. There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t thank God for this man and all of the joy he brings me. “How about we all take a walk around the yard and visit the horses?” I suggest while I stand up.

  He grins, kisses me, and then grabs my hand as we leave the back deck. We all follow Jason around the property like we’re his ducklings, the kids taking turns getting his attention. Kristy’s the horse lover, and her blue eyes light up when she and Jason take off in a run toward the stables. James runs along too, but more because he’s competitive and won’t let anyone beat him. I have no idea where he gets that trait.

  I walk slowly next to three-year-old Kailee, who twirls and leaps with her chubby legs over all the sprinkler puddles. Bo’s close at her side. I hold baby Jay wrapped in a blanket and have a sudden flutter in my stomach, and a large smile spreads across my face. This is the best chapter of my life.

  Acknowledgement

  I first want to thank my husband, the inspiration in my life for motivating me to write instead of read. He is the real reason I read and write about love. I’m so grateful to have him as my best friend and supporter. He still gives me butterflies and continues to make me laugh with his quick-witted sense of humor. He often quotes the heated passionate parts I have written or read about, which is hilarious. He truly is a funny man.