Heat Wave

by Grenelle, Ceri

  Then he cuts me off at my knees, making me run from my shower as fast as I can when I hear, “Oh, Faye.”

  That was a week ago, and ever since then we haven’t walked together, haven’t talked. We’ve only nodded in greeting on the stairs or by the mailboxes. I experienced the single most erotic moment of my life through a fucking wall, and now we’re acting as if we just broke up. I knew getting involved with a neighbor would spell trouble, especially one who has come to mean so much to me as a friend.

  I miss him, but what’s worse, my body craves him now more than ever before, and hearing him go about his day on his side of the wall is pure torture.

  Another crash and curse filters through the thin wall and I make a split decision. The city is dark, it’s hot as balls, and I’m frustrated emotionally and sexually. What better reason to let my inhibitions fly and claim what I’ve been fantasizing about since first moving to Oakland? When it’s all over, when we’ve finally quenched our thirst for one another, we can go back to our friendly talks and commutes. Nothing will have changed, the itch will be scratched.

  I throw on a skimpy sundress, toss my hair up in a bun with a few pins, then put mascara on by candlelight. After a quick glance in the mirror I exit and lock up my apartment.

  I’m two steps from Ben’s door when it opens. He’s there, in a tank top and shorts, as surprised to see me as I am.

  “Hi,” he says.

  “Hi.”

  He waits a second, thinking, searching my gaze, then bites his sumptuous lip and says, “Want to come inside?”

  I lick my lips, mirroring his movements. He has to know what I’m here for, dressed the way I am, after not talking to him for a week because we essentially jerked off together.

  “Yes.”

  Without a word he widens the door for me. I enter his dark apartment. It’s surprisingly cool, and as I walk into the living room I can see candles littering the edges of the walls, casting it in an ethereal romantic glow.

  I turn around and he’s there, his hands on the bottom of his shirt, tugging it off and throwing it to the floor. He’s massive, and muscular, and so totally overwhelming the hot man kryptonite hits me again and I start to stammer a response to his shirtlessness.

  Nothing. Nothing comes out.

  His hands tug at the button on his jeans.

  “Tell me this is what you’re here for, Faye, because my cock’s been hard for you all week.”

  Oh, holy fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Two

  The Scorcher

  I turn away, knowing if I keep staring at his beautiful body, the chiseled abs, that cut line trailing toward where his cock is hidden—the line I thought was a myth in real men—I’ll never be able to form a cohesive, sensible sentence.

  “Why is it so cool in here?” I ask, needing to think about anything other than his increasingly naked body.

  “I’ve had my window unit A/C blasting all weekend, it will take a little while for the chill to dissipate completely. Why aren’t you looking at me?”

  I walk to his bookcase, then back toward the herb garden.

  “That’s smart. I should have bit the bullet and installed an A/C when I heard what this weekend would be like. You’re always a step ahead of the curve.”

  “Faye, stop pacing—”

  “Wow, your herbs have grown so much since I was over last.” My voice sounds like a Barbie doll’s would, peppy and fake. “When do you think they’ll be ready?”

  “Faye.” His hands grab my shoulders from behind, stopping me from making another turn. “Don’t you want to look at me?”

  “I—I—yes. But...”

  “Are you shy? After the shower affair?”

  I snort. “I call it the shower incident. And that...I—I never intended for you to hear me, to know I was listening.” I cover my face. “Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I shouldn’t have come over here. I don’t know why I did.”

  “I know why.” He hugs me tight, wrapping his arms across my chest and stomach. His bare chest is so warm against my back. I can feel his nipples over my shoulder blades.

  “Why?” I can’t help but lean into him, rub against his smooth skin.

  “Because you want to know what it feels like to have my cock inside your pussy. And I’ll tell you what, it will be better than any vibrator you use to get yourself off.”

  Warm heat fills my cunt.

  “How did you know I was using a vibrator?”

  “I heard it the second you turned it on, why did you think I was jerking off? I knew what you were doing and the thought was driving me fucking batshit crazy. I don’t think I’ve ever been that hard. Then I heard your sexy whines and moans and, well, you know the rest.”

  “When we first met I never thought you’d be this way.”

  “What way?” He nuzzles my neck, licks where the dress strap sits on my shoulder.

  “So dirty and unashamed by it.”

  “You know me, you know all my quirks and weirdness. It’s easy to let go around you.” A long hard length pushes against the thin material of my dress. “But I’ve been wanting to let go in a different way since the moment I met you.”

  He starts to turn me around but I grip his arms and stay put, shaking my head. He lets me be, understanding I need a little more time.

  “Remember the first day we met? I called you pretty and you got mad at me for it?”

  “I’m not comfortable with strangers giving me compliments.”

  “I realized that. How would you feel if I gave you a compliment right now?”

  “I don’t know, depends on what you say.”

  His voice is a carnal whisper against my ear. “What I really wanted to say that day was you are the most stunningly sexy and beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Your hair, the way it kinks and curls down your pale skin makes me want to shove my hand into the strands and tug until you’re on your knees with your big lips around my cock. Oh, fuck, your lips. I dream about your lips, touching them, feeling them on my skin, kissing them.”

  Without warning he tilts my head toward his and does exactly what he’s been dreaming of. What we’ve both been dreaming of.

  The kiss is delicate and light, a bare skim of lips. At least for the first moment. After he pulls away and I look into his burnt amber eyes—truly, for the first time, seeing the way he looks at me, how he wants me as terribly as I want him—I turn around and tug his head down to mine with a hand on either side of his face.

  He groans into the kiss, which I take full advantage of and push my tongue into his mouth. His hands grip my ass, lifting me till I’m on my tiptoes as his erection grinds against my lower belly.

  “Faye,” he whispers when we pull away to breathe, just a scant second before I’m on him again, wrapping my arms around his neck and hitching a leg over his hip. He catches it, simulates exactly what he wants to do by pushing his cock against my covered pussy. His moves are sinuous, almost elegant, like he’s dancing with me to music only we can hear.

  I pull away, not allowing myself a second to think or else I’ll run out the door faster than I can say fuck me harder, Batman. I sink to my knees and finish what he started, unzip his fly then tug his jeans down. Of course he’s not wearing underwear, proven by his cock popping out and nearly smacking me in the face.

  And oh, what a beautiful sight it is. Thicker than I imagined, and not quite as long, it’s exactly what I’m craving right now. What I need to have in every part of my body that will take it. The purple vein beneath the mushroomed head is thick and enticing. A long bead of moisture curls from the slit, dripping down to the dense ridge. I grip him at the base and angle him toward my mouth.

  His hand in my hair stops me, forces me to look up.

  “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life, your mouth open, wanting to suck my
cock. But I have to ask, Faye, is this what you want? Are you sure? We never had a talk about safety. I’m clean. I won’t put you at risk for anything. I’d never hurt you. I need you to know that.”

  His babbling turns dear and my heart wrenches at the tender care he takes with me while gripping my hair so hard. I’m pretty sure he wants to fuck my face more than anything, which makes his self control and need to check in with me even more precious.

  “I’m safe too, and I have an IUD.” I rub his cock from base to tip with my lips, kiss the head. “I’m going to give you the best head you’ve ever had.”

  “That’s a pretty steep statement—Oh, holy mother of God.”

  I take him down to the base and suck with everything I’m worth.

  “Oh, this is not happening.”

  I look up, amused and a little surprised by his exclamations. From what I’ve heard through the wall he’s all smooth talking, nothing unwieldy like the near stuttering and shocked curses I get now.

  “God, baby, yes—wow—”

  Wow?

  “Your mouth, your lips, more beautiful and hotter than I ever imagined. Yeah, suck the head like that, use your tongue.”

  There he is, I think as I swirl my tongue around the slit while using my hand to pump him. He just needed a little stimulation, or maybe he was overcome, like I am when I see the full picture of his body. I don’t know how to be suave in response to things I feel. Even first thing in the morning when we meet for our commute I’m still rendered speechless by the sheer beauty of him. He always starts the conversation, giving me time to warm up to him, to feel comfortable. But it’s hard to put aside his beauty and just focus on our friendship. I might never be able to say it out loud, talking about emotions a part of my kryptonite, but there was always more than just friendship from my side of the wall.

  Maybe that’s what he’s feeling now. And if that’s the case, what will it mean when all this is over? It’s one thing to come over here and fulfill a fantasy, but another thing entirely when taking into consideration the other person’s feelings. I never once thought how my being with Ben might affect him. I only thought of his sexual drive and how he’d want to make me submit—all fantasies rather than the reality of the man I’ve come to know and care for.

  It was all about me, what I wanted and needed, my embarrassment after the shower incident. I never once stopped to think how he must have felt, me cutting him off without so much as a word after sharing such an intimate moment.

  No more, I vow. Now it’s all about Ben and getting him to come and come and come.

  I do everything I can to make it happen. I cup and massage his balls, I even suck on them a bit, use my hand to keep the stimulation going on his cock. He says my name over and over, and eventually grips my hair, pulling out the pins, and fucks into my mouth, but only after I beg for it.

  His expression is fierce, almost scary in its intensity, but I love it all the more for that. I relax my jaw and let him thrust into me, gagging every now and then when he goes too far back. I clutch his hips, wordlessly urging him on, looking up at him as he controls every second of what we’re doing, until he unexpectedly pulls out and drops down to his knees.

  I’m suddenly unsure. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, that was the best head I’ve ever had. But after you told me you were clean and on birth control I can’t stop thinking of coming inside you. Before we even get there, I need to do something else I’ve been dreaming of.”

  Before I have a chance to ask what he could possibly want more than sex, he removes my dress, then wrestles to get his jeans off. There’s a scar on his upper thigh. It’s wide and stretches from knee to hip, lighter than the rest of his skin. Other than that one mark, his body is perfection, and I feel the self-consciousness that has assailed my ego since puberty take over.

  I cover my chest by crossing my arms but he shakes his head and undoes the concealing gesture.

  “Don’t hide yourself. I meant what I said. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.” His mouth nuzzles the side of my breast, licking and nipping at the supple curve. His hand dips between my legs and plays with the petals of my pussy. “Yes,” he hisses. “So wet, just like I knew you’d be.”

  “You did this to me.”

  “Good.” He kisses me, lowers me to the ground, keeping one hand dancing on my cunt, immersing fingers inside to ease the growing pain yet taunt at the same time. The other moves over my breasts, playing with my nipple. A tug. Two. My breath shortens.

  When his mouth leaves mine, I protest, tugging him back. He smiles but gives in to what I want. I’ve waited so long to have his lips on me, never thought it would happen, and now that he’s here I don’t want to let him go.

  He pulls away and when I start to tug him back he says, “There are other places my mouth needs to be.”

  “Where?” I feel like a dunce for asking it, but he only smiles—genuine and open—then starts a kiss-laden descent down my body. I feel him everywhere. My breasts, stopping there for quite a while to suck and nibble, my ribcage, my stomach. His tongue plunges into my navel, tickling. When he reaches my hipbone the sensuous fervor within has turned into an inferno. Then his tongue is on me, playing with my labia, kissing as if it were my mouth.

  “You taste so good.” He sounds shocked and excited all at once, almost young, like he’s trying something new for the first time. Well, I guess he is. His raw wonder makes me laugh, too suffused with my own delight to allow any old insecurities to intrude on us.

  “Laughing?” He shakes his head. “I must not be doing this right.”

  It’s impossible to respond as the swirling flicks of his tongue render me speechless. I prop up on my elbows as he moves away long enough to brace my feet on his shoulders. He winks before ducking back down, using his tongue and adding fingers inside me to come at me from every angle.

  It feels good, so good the orgasm has built to the edge of the cliff. But I can’t make it over, my body won’t fall. I pound the floor in frustration, keep my eyes shut tight, and try to concentrate everything I have on where his body meets mine.

  But it won’t happen.

  He can feel it too. Ben bites my inner thigh, snapping my eyes open. He’s looking up at me, understanding.

  “Show me what you need. Tell me.”

  I’m so torn up and feverish I throw any sense of shame left in my mind out the window and guide his head up a bit, directly over my clit.

  “Lick it fast and light.”

  God, I should be mortified by the things coming out of my mouth but really all I’m concerned with is coming. Which I start to do the second his tongue reaches precisely where I need. I hold his head to me, use the placement of my feet on his shoulders to press and lift my pulsing cunt into his face.

  The orgasm shatters over me, rains excruciating pleasure across every inch of my body.

  “Ben,” I pant, coming down from the climax. “Did that just happen? Oh, shit.”

  My stunned exclamation makes him laugh as he lowers my shaking legs and climbs up my body. I think he’s going to kiss me, cuddle me. We can talk, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. Now that we’ve indulged in each other maybe the night will be over and we can move on with our lives. We’ll have gotten each other out of our systems and things can go back to normal.

  But his very hard penis resting against my abdomen reminds me he hasn’t come yet.

  There I go again, being selfish.

  “I’m such an asshole.”

  “What?” he asks, lightly tugging on my nipple, so casually sending bursts of sensation across my body.

  “You haven’t come yet.”

  “That doesn’t make you an asshole. Making you come was the best thing that’s happened to me in months. Also you sucking my cock. I still haven’t gotten over that.”

  And because I am an obdurate
weirdo, I have to ask.

  “What about that woman you brought home right after I moved in?”

  He groans, knowing exactly what I’m talking about. At first I think it’s from embarrassment. He must understand by now I heard every second of that crazy rough sex. But it isn’t embarrassment or shame, it’s so much better.

  “You drove me wild that night.”

  “Wait—huh?” I sit up, bringing him with me. “You were with someone else. How did I have any part in that?”

  He’s adorable and unbearably sexy as he smiles bashfully yet tugs at his cock, keeping it hard. How can this man be both sweet and dominant? He’s practically Jekyll and Hyde with these extreme dichotomies.

  “I brought a woman home, trying to use up all the crazy energy being around you wrought, and then when I was just convincing myself I was turned on by her alone, the loudest vibrator I’ve ever heard filtered through the walls and you proceeded to come like four times in a row. Loudly.”

  Five times. It was my best number. That vibrator I used is known for its powerful motor. Great for quick and dirty orgasms.

  I cover my face, the embarrassment flooding my body like burning lava.

  “I had a pillow over my head to muffle the sound.”

  Ben pulls my hands away, his delight clear. “It did not help.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about that,” I admit.

  And Ben, dear, sweet, sexy, brilliant Ben, takes it in stride and backs off. He’s hard as a pipe and he backs off. It makes me want him more, in ways I’m scared will just screw up the easy friendship we’ve got going. He’s just too enticing to resist.

  “That I heard you coming the first week we knew each other?”

  “No. Well, yes, but the other thing too. You brought a woman home because you were so turned on by me your dick took over your brain and you had to have sex, no matter who with?” The more I elaborate, the bigger our smiles get, the absurdity of the situation refreshing. And sexy. And making me hot all over again.

  “I couldn’t have you, so I found the next best thing.” He doesn’t waste another second before kissing me.