by Sam Crescent
She showered with quick efficiency. Wet and still frustrated, she stalked to her room and collapsed in a heap on the bed.
When she was younger, she had married a much older man. In fact when she had been younger, she’d possessed the naive thought love conquers all. Diane had been in love beyond measure. David had been her soul mate. Her life and heart had been devoted to no one but him. She recalled how loving he’d been. She’d been his everything and he’d been her everything.
They didn’t have children. They didn’t need them. They had each other. Six years into the marriage, David had been diagnosed with cancer. After two years of fighting and praying together, she’d buried him.
No other man had ever meant as much to her since that day.
The sad thing, David had been wealthy. With no family on either side, all of his money had been passed on to her. She tried not to spend too much because every penny reminded her of him. A lot of it went to charities to help other cancer patients. She had more than enough to live on. But when it came down to brass tacks, she’d rather have David than his riches.
Diane knew he would’ve wanted her to have a life without him. Possibly find love again. Get married and have children.
No man had come close to the example David had set yet.
That had been about fifteen years ago. Today, she remained a free woman and could do whatever the hell she liked.
None of her other lovers had consumed her thoughts until Mark.
The ringing of the telephone brought her back to the present.
“Hello.”
“Hello.” The voice on the other end, as smooth as butter, dripping with all the promise of being sinfully good.
“Who is this?” Diane knew she just liked to tease.
“Am I that bad at making you come, you can’t even remember my name?”
Diane felt her breath catch. She had to play this cool despite the chaos going on inside her.
“I’m sorry but there have been many men over the years who have made me come. Who exactly is this?” She glanced down at her nails giving the whole impression of indifference. The act would have been perfect, if he’d been able to see her.
He chuckled, the sound sending a delightful shiver through her body, awakening senses she’d tried to dull in the shower moments ago.
She no longer had the energy to care or to even try to fight it. Thinking of David had reminded her how short life could be and how quickly it could end. Life was about living it to the fullest.
“How about the sexy guy who had his fingers up your pussy at Karen and Nick’s wedding?”
Diane could tell he was playing along. He wasn’t convinced she didn’t know him.
“Hmm, let me think.” She rolled onto her back, her finger twirling the phone cord. “Ah, yes I think I remember you. Young boy, took things a little too fast. No control at all.”
“Yes. The very one.”
She knew he would be smiling down the line.
“Well, young man, what can I do for you?” Her body screaming a reply at her but she refused to listen.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee?”
Diane stopped for a second, shocked, disappointed but also intrigued. She had been with a lot of men since her husband’s passing. Not one had offered coffee before fucking.
“Hello? Diane? Are you there?”
Another shock, he’d even remembered her name.
Her heart pounded in her chest as if coming alive for the first time in years. She placed a palm against her chest, making sure it still worked.
“Yes. I’m here.”
She had been truly stumped.
“Well? Do you?” he asked again.
“Do I what?”
“Want to go and get coffee?”
Do I want to go and get coffee with him? “Where do you want to meet?” Well, that answered that question.
“How about you meet me at the local café in town? For lunch? My treat.”
Diane nodded into the phone, realizing her folly, she stumbled over her words. “Wait, how do you know where I live?”
She heard him chuckle again. “I asked Karen before they left.”
“Right.”
“So is that a date?”
“Yes. I’ll see you at lunch time.” Disconnecting the call, Diane glanced at her ceiling. What an interesting turn of events.
* * * *
Mark looked down at his phone. She hadn’t sounded very happy or even intrigued by him. Maybe he shouldn’t have called.
No, he should have called. The woman had been driving him crazy for the past three weeks. When he thought about her, his dick would get hard and he wouldn’t be able to do anything until he took himself in hand and climaxed.
He had to see her. Diane becoming an obsession to him. His every waking thought filled by her. He couldn’t eat or sleep—never before had a woman been this time consuming. He needed to fuck her to get her out of his mind, to get her out of his system.
Running his fingers through his hair, he checked himself out the mirror. A few strands of grey were starting to work its way into the dark brown. He shrugged, the highlights looked good. Gave him an edge of maturity. The ladies seemed to love it.
His body, in good working order from all the weights and running he did. He was healthy, young and fit. He could have any woman he wanted. The only problem he saw, he only wanted Diane.
His cock wouldn’t even turn for another female. He’d tried numerous times. Nightclubs where there were always willing women, with the need to fuck. Nothing. It lay dead in his pants.
A simple conversation with Diane and his pants tented. His cock alive, ready to sink into her.
Moving his hand down his body, he pushed past the tight confines of his tracksuit bottoms to grasp his aching shaft. He cried aloud. The sensation almost brought him to his knees. Pressing his pants down until they lay around his ankles, he began to work his heated length. The tip of his cock leaked his creamy fluid. After few strokes, his mind running riot with explicit scenes of Diane, he climaxed in the tissue he reached for earlier.
A glistening of sweat covered his skin. The best work out he’d ever had. He cleaned himself up and went into his bedroom to pick his clothes out for his lunch date.
He knew how good he looked in tight jeans and the white T-shirt against his tanned complexion finished off the look. He dressed to impress. By the end of this lunch date, he wanted her panting so that he would only have to look at her and she would agree to anything he suggested.
He wanted to hold all the cards. Being a physically demanding lover, he controlled his women and sex. No one controlled him.
He was going to fuck little Diane out of his system.
Mark just hoped to hell it worked.
Chapter Three
A few hours later Mark sat wondering if Diane would show. She was twenty minutes late. He checked his watch again. She should be the one waiting for him to walk in and begin the seduction. Not the other way around. He smiled over at the pretty young waitress. He couldn’t recall if he’d taken her to bed or not. He nodded, holding up his coffee in acknowledgment.
The waitress blushed and scuttled off in the opposite direction. Nope, he hadn’t taken her.
He glanced at the door and then at his watch. His leg jiggling, he couldn’t keep still no matter what he did.
After thirty minutes, he began to give up hope. He had been stood up. Diane, the first woman to plague his thoughts and now the first woman to ditch him. He took his wallet out and placed the money for the bill plus a tip. He took the napkin with the waitress’ phone number at the same time.
“Wow. You’re leaving already?”
Mark stopped. He glanced up and saw Heaven. Diane stood before him, glowing. She had on a light pale yellow, thin strap sundress. Her hair, full and vibrant swung around her shoulders, a pair of sunglasses holding it back.
His mouth went dry and he lost all of his words.
She smiled,
taking the seat opposite him.
The young waitress came to take her order.
“Coffee with cream and sugar.”
The waitress turned to him.
“Oh sweetie, I think he was leaving,” Diane said, wearing a simple yet elegant yellow sundress which showed the top her breasts, a huge cleavage and wonderful expanse of leg.
Mark came out of his trance. Diane had taken his breath away.
“The same as last time,” he managed to mumble. His eyes never left hers.
He watched as Diane smiled at the waitress before she turned her full penetrating gaze on him.
“You’re late.” Mark leaned back in his chair trying to calm himself.
“Better late than never. Besides I can’t be that late.” She lifted the menu giving him only the briefest of glances.
“Oh, and why is that.” Mark became angry at the lack of attention.
“Because you wouldn’t have been here if I had been too late.”
The witch had him there. If he admitted he’d waited as long as he did, she would know the power she had over him, making him look like an immature boy instead of the man he is.
“Besides weren’t you about to leave?”
What could he say to that? He smiled, reaching for the bill to put it away. Her hand stopped him.
“Leave it out on the table.”
“What about lunch?”
She smiled at him and he cursed when he felt her foot push against his crotch underneath the table. He looked down to see her little toes peeking out at him. She wore sexy red nail polish.
Running his fingers through his hair, he glanced around the room seeing if anyone could see.
They all seemed preoccupied with their lunch. He leaned back allowing her devilish foot to play with him.
Her mischievous smile, sexy as sin.
This was going to be a long lunch.
* * * *
Diane enjoyed feeling his hardened length pressing against her foot. He was sexier than she remembered. If he stood, she imagined she’d climax just from seeing the tightness of his ass in those jeans.
“So how have you been?” Diane asked him, smiling as the waitress approached with her coffee.
He thanked the girl but his eyes never left hers. The least he could do seeing as she had her foot in his crotch.
“Great. You?” Mark seemed to be playing it cool. She could tell he was distracted but she didn’t mind doing the small talk.
“I’ve been thinking about you.” She went right in.
Mark continued to stare at her and she could see she surprised him with her confession. She took a sip of the steaming hot coffee, wincing as the bitter liquid burned her throat.
“Are you all right?” His concern instant. He reached over to place a comforting hand on top of hers, where it rested on the table between them.
Diane smiled at him.
“A little hot and little too bitter.” Diane referred to the coffee.
His hand lingered on hers, stroking over her knuckles light and teasing. He glanced down at her hand, then picked it up. She watched as he measured it against his large one. Twining their fingers, he rested them against the tabletop.
Diane stared at their hands. Her heart thumped inside her chest, its beat pounding in her ears. The noise from people in the café dulled to a slow buzz.
She glanced at Mark and saw too much. He was no longer a bad boy looking for a quick fuck and a good time. Instead she saw a man crying out. Closing her eyes, she shook her head trying to clear her mind of him and the years of pain. Minutes later, she looked up and he stared at her, concern clear on his face.
“Are you all right?”
She glanced around the café, feeling tightness in her chest. She needed to leave.
“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked as she removed her foot and placed it back in her sandal.
She separated her hand from his grip.
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know, just out of here.” She picked her bag up off the floor and marched out of the café. She walked and didn’t care if he followed or not. Moving past people without care, she pushed her sunglasses back on allowing her hair to whip around in all directions.
“Diane, wait.” Mark caught up with her.
She kept on moving forward, determined to push these emotions back. She needed to keep them buried.
Crossing the road, she felt his constant presence by her side. When they got to her car, she took a deep breath.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” she asked him.
He eyed her tiny car uncertainly. She didn’t care about the minute size of her car. He would either go with her to her house or leave him here. The more she thought like a bitch, the easier she could gather her thoughts.
“To your place?”
She nodded, opening her car and throwing her purse in the back. She stood to get his answer, but he already closed the passenger’s door. Diane climbed behind the wheel, put her seatbelt on and was going through her little routine.
“Er, Diane, does this seat go back?” Diane chuckled as she noticed him scrunched up against the dashboard. Laughter consumed her.
In seconds, both of them were giddy. Diane leaned underneath the chair and showed him where the leaver sat to adjust the seat.
After he’d pulled the chair as far back as it would go, he still had to bend his knees.
Diane couldn’t stop the humour at the situation , still laughing as she hit the lunch time traffic.
“I’m glad you find this funny.”
Diane chuckled. “You’re a big bloke.”
“In a lot more areas.”
Diane allowed the comment to pass. Let him stew in his assumptions. She smiled at him, but kept driving until minutes later they were pulling up on her drive.
“This is your house?”
She nodded. Stepping out, she locked the car and went to the front door.
“Take your shoes off.” She told him as she opened the door and slipped her own shoes off before walking through to the kitchen. She felt him behind her moments later as she bent in the fridge reaching for the pitcher of lemonade. “Grab two glasses please.”
He stayed close to her as if he didn’t want to let her go, needed to be touching her in some way.
She filled them and handed him a glass. They looked at each other as they drank the cool fizzy liquid.
The air charged with sexual tension. They didn’t need conversation. The only sounds were them drinking. Diane watched as he took large gulps. He was mouth-watering standing up and those jeans were fucking hot. She wanted to lick every square inch of him.
They placed their glasses on the counter and stood staring at each other.
Waiting. Anticipating. Wondering.
Mark reached for her first. He grasped her arm, pulling her against him. As his fingers sunk into her hair, Diane wound her hands around his neck and pressed herself against his much larger body. They both moaned at the connection and went in for the kiss. Diane allowed him to take control, as he thrust his tongue between her lips. She tasted him and loved every second of it.
Diane moaned at the hint of coffee, but mostly the freshness of the lemonade and just underneath all that was the beautiful flavor of man who knew what he was doing.
His fingers pressed into her scalp. She didn’t care about the bite of pain. She wanted him, wanted to feel.
Diane tightened her fingers in his hair, pulling his head back with a harsh tug. He let out a groan, but allowed her to do as she wanted. She bent her head to press her lips against his thick throat, feeling the rapid beat of his pulse. When she nipped his skin, he jerked but didn’t pull away.
Her fingers left his hair to grip his white shirt. She pulled it up and off his body, throwing it on her kitchen floor.
“Yummy.” She ran her fingers over every smooth muscle. There wasn’t an ounce of hair on his big tanned body. Returning to his neck, she trailed little ki
sses to the top of his left nipple and bit the tight bead. With a quick flick of her tongue, she took the sting out.
A deep rumbling moan made her look up to see him watching her. She moved slowly to his other nipple giving both the same attention. Her eyes locked on his, he growled as she pressed her hand against his hard cock through the material of his jeans. She used both hands to loosen his belt and jeans before she slid them to his knees.
Diane, a little disappointed to find he wore boxers. Within seconds, they were down to his knees and his long thick cock, sprang free for her to touch. She tore her gaze away so she could look her fill of the rest of his body.
There is nothing like having a sexy well-built man standing with his pants around his knees—his thick cock pushing toward her—in her kitchen.
“You look good enough to eat.” Diane licked her lips.
“Then eat me.”
She smiled, moved closer to him, then took his cock in hand and pressed her lips against his.
Their moans mingled. His hands cupped her cheeks, while his hips thrust against her hand.
“I’ve been wanting this so bad,” he moaned as her tongue brushed against his lips. He opened to receive her. His hands stroked her hair out of the way of her face.
Diane fucked him with her hand, playing with the shaft, teasing him with every touch.
“I want you to fuck me,” she gasped out as his hands moved to the straps of her dress. She didn’t wear a bra and her breasts slipped out. Diane grasped his head pressing her breast against his mouth.
He picked her up in one swoop and landed her on the counter, shoving the glasses and pitcher out of his way. They landed on the floor with a crash. The glass smashed and the lemonade drenched her tiles.
Neither noticed. They were too absorbed in each other to care about the mess they were making.
Diane opened her thighs and welcomed him. His hands pushed her dress out of the way. She gasped as he gave the lace of her panties a yank. She should be outraged at having him destroy her panties, instead she was so damn turned on by his strength, her pussy a molten heat scorching her.