Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  Those seemed to be the magic words that unlocked her core because she raised her arms toward me and I didn’t even hesitate a moment to lie down next to her and pull her into my arms.

  At first, I simply held her; as tightly and yet gently as I possibly could. I cradled her small body against my own. I could feel myself responding and I knew without a doubt she could feel it, too. I lowered my head and kissed her ear, something that made her shudder. I knew she liked it because she snuggled her ear upward toward me again. Within moments we were into deep kissing and my desire was no longer containable. My fingers flew at the small buttons at the top of her shirt, but she was already ahead of me, using her toes to slip off the opposite shoe as her fingers fastened around my belt loops.

  She tugged at my belt with small, unfamiliar fingers, and each time their tips glanced off my skin beneath, I felt I would burst. She learned quickly and I heard a soft mewl of disappointment when she couldn’t tug my pants lower than my hips on her own. I was equally frustrated with her blouse, eventually just pulling it over her head as buttons popped onto the carpet. I lifted my hips and slid off my own pants to join them and somewhere along the way, I realized we were both naked.

  I leaned back on my haunches to drink in the sight of her body. She was perfectly formed, but small with a waist so narrow I wondered how it supported her back. Her breasts were full and her nipples like dark mulberries against her pale, flawless skin. Her hips flared just enough to give her ideal proportions and her legs were tight and elegantly-shaped. How has she not been snapped up by some guy by now? I didn’t care why, so much as that I felt gratitude, as it meant that she was free to be mine. Her long, coppery curls put me in mind of Boticelli’s Birth of Venus.

  I was straddling her hips and as I was studying her, she was doing the same to me. As I watched in suspended time, her slim, white hand slowly moved forward toward my crotch. I looked at her face and saw her lips were slightly parted as she dampened them with the tip of her tongue. Her green eyes were dark and seriously intent on her goal—cupping my balls. I wanted to drive into her, but something held me back. There was a floating quality that had settled over us – as if time were irrelevant, as was the world itself. We were free-floating in a black space with nothing more to do than touch one another and feel the equally stimulating sensations of being touched in turn.

  Her hands moved to the base of my hard penis and she slowly sat up, leaning forward and lowering her full, pouting lips over my tip. I know I shot a little and I heard her giggle of delight as she pulled back, used her finger to dip my cum out of her mouth and slowly painted her nipples with the milky liquid. It was my undoing.

  I heard the animal groan that came from my throat as I pushed her back against the black silk. I pushed her legs open, my hand reaching downward to part her labia lips and feel the warmth and her own moisture that coated my finger. She issued a desperately needy sigh and lifted her hips toward me, inviting me to enter. I didn’t wait for a second invitation, but pushed into the perfect heart formed by her labia lips, inward, slowly and surely until I’d filled her completely.

  I heard her cry out my name as her hips rocked from side to side, working to get her fill of my girth before I began the time-honored rhythm of human lovers. I slid my hands beneath her ass and bent her knees, splaying her wide as I drove into her. She answered every thrust with one of her own.

  Her hands lay on her chest, her fingers stroking her own nipples. This inflamed me further—this creature of beauty and sensuality beneath me was born to receive me. There was no doubt.

  This time, we were driven by desperation. I needed to fill her with my seed and she wanted her release, her arms gracefully flying backwards over her head and her waist arching upward as she rose to meet me. I wanted it to last for hours, but she was my undoing. One full look at her breasts and the parted, moist lips was all it took, and the convulsions took me over the edge. She was crying out softly as well, her body shuddering beneath me and her eyes closed as her head flailed from side to side on the pillow.

  When I was depleted, I slid to the side of her and held her through the end of her luxuriously long orgasm. When it finally subsided, her forehead was damp, and a few tendrils of her hair lay upon her ears and the side of her long neck. She was still breathing hard and I put my hand over her pussy, cupping the quivering skin as if I could keep my juice inside her forever.

  Lillie turned to her side, her small, perfect white teeth biting my nipple—which made me want her again. She was a vixen that could kill me—of that there was no doubt. I pulled her against me, tucking her in between my knees and chin. She flinched every few moments, her body sinuously moving to maintain contact with my skin. Her hand searched my body, slid around my penis, stroking it and then she turned to it, licking it clean with a sound of satisfaction. I lay with my eyes closed and reveled in the sensations.

  It was sometime later when she finally whispered into my ear. “I’m cold.” I pulled her against me, lifting the comforter and pulling it over us as I fitted myself around her small body. Eventually, she relaxed, and I knew it was okay to sleep. She was safe.

  Chapter 7

  Lillie

  I was fighting my way out of a sound sleep, but I realized there was a body in the bed next to me. I was jerked awake and sat up, only to find Chris’ brown eyes on me. His hand closed the distance between us as he began to stroke my nipples. “Mmmm… that feels so good,” I murmured. “I wasn’t sure where I was when I woke up,” I added. “This is all…well… new to me.”

  “You’d have a hard time proving that by me. Don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but I’ve never met anyone as sensually-inclined as you are. It’s like you’re from another time and an old soul.”

  “An old soul? That’s flattering,” I joked, pinching his nipple.

  “No, actually, it’s a good thing. It means you are wise beyond your years and have a certain ‘knowing’ that women your age haven’t learned yet.”

  “Are you an old soul?”

  “Me? No, not really. I’m maybe a little street-wise, but not an old soul. You can’t learn that; you’re born with it.”

  “Hmm… well, this old soul needs a shower and a glass of cold water.”

  Chris pointed to a doorway. “You’ll find both in there. Take your time. I’ll use one of the others and then make us a little breakfast and listen to the weather report.”

  I nodded and hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Nothing. Well, okay, I’m just not used to walking naked in front of someone.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  I shook my head.

  “You ninny. Okay, I have no problem with it, so why don’t you let me grab something from the closet and I’ll get out of your way.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “No problem,” he answered but was chuckling as he grabbed jeans and a sweatshirt from his walk-in closet and left the room.

  With a sigh of relief, I headed into the bathroom, turning on the waterfall shower that permitted me to dial in a degree of heat to the water. I had no idea what temperature I wanted, so I started with a hundred degrees and then dialed it up from there. Like so many modern things that had multiple adjustments, I got so busy with the adjusting that I missed the point of having the shower altogether. I also missed the sound that would have alerted me if I’d been paying attention.

  I jumped as a hand entered the shower. I leapt backward into the corner, grabbing the towel I’d laid over the far bar and held it in front of me.

  “You were serious, weren’t you?” came Chris’ voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You really are modest.”

  “I was raised a good Catholic girl.”

  The door slid open and a naked Chris stood there, fully erect. Without an invitation, he stepped into the oversized shower with me, pumping soap from the dispenser as he entered. He came toward me, his hand
s soapy and reaching toward my breasts. He plucked the towel from my frightened hands and stood back to look at me fully. “Gorgeous,” he said with appreciation and I was momentarily relieved I’d shaved my armpits the day before.

  “You don’t own any roadside motels, do you?” I asked teasingly, but maybe not entirely.

  Chris mimicked the music from Psycho and raised his hand in a slicing motion. I shrieked in a half playful, half terrified way and he laughed heartily, his arms wrapping around me.

  My face was even with his nipples and I playfully bit one. He reciprocated by lifting me off my feet and pulling one of my nipples into his mouth in a sucking motion.

  “I want you, again,” he growled.

  “I know, I can feel it,” I admitted and peeked downward at his manhood that was swollen and probing my pussy gateway.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered, and I admit, I didn’t want to argue. I did as he asked, and he held me with one hand as he pushed my legs around his waist. I felt him enter me low. He was holding me and now pushed me downward; I was impaled on him. Despite the squeaky soap clean, I was still moist enough with my own juices to allow me to slide up and down on him. The picture flashed through my mind of a weightlifter, doing his workout and I giggled.

  “You find this funny, do you?” he mock threatened me and withdrew, putting me down.

  I instantly retaliated by kneeling and pulling his penis downward into my mouth. I could taste his saltiness while the raining showerhead saturated my eyes and nostrils with a steady stream of hot water. Chris’ knees bent to accommodate my lower height and suddenly, we were both on the floor of the shower. My mouth was sucking on his penis and his was sucking at my pussy. He’d spread my legs so that I was practically sitting on his face. We were caught in this tropical world where only the two of us existed and I felt the quickening begin as his mouth explored my tunnel. I knew he was holding back, so as I peaked, he allowed himself to do likewise. The result was two squirming bodies in a cooling shower that was beginning to feel chilled.

  Chris’ hand hit the shower selector and the water ceased instantly, leaving us lying atop one another in a now cooling, tiled space. He regretfully stood up and in a swishing movement, wrapped me in a huge, heated towel and laid me on the bed. He dressed with calm movements, watching me all the while as I laid huddled under the towel and blankets.

  “Shy, huh?” he snickered and left the room, closing the door firmly behind himself. “Breakfast in fifteen minutes—be there,” I heard him call to me as he retreated down the hall.

  I scrambled for my clothes which were somewhat worse for wear. I used the hairdryer and a brush I found in the vanity drawer. Somehow, I reassembled a fairly presentable version of myself and fairly skipped down the hallway toward the inviting aroma of freshly-brewed coffee.

  We were just sitting down to a plate of scrambled eggs and croissants when there was a soft bell ring near the door. Chris pulled out his phone and tapped. “Chris?” came a voice through the intercom he’d triggered.

  “Good morning, brother. What brings you out so early?” Chris answered.

  “Early? Damn, Chris, it’s after noon.”

  “Oh, well, it was a late night. Come on up.”

  My mouth dropped open and I scrambled off the stool at the breakfast bar. “Coming up? Oh, geez, let me get back to the bedroom,” I choked and hurriedly gathered my dishes and placed them in the sink.

  “Woah, hold on there. Where are you going?”

  I shook my head in amazement. “Your brother,” I whispered furiously. “He’s on his way up!”

  “I know.”

  “Well, don’t you want me out of the way?”

  “Nope. I want you to pick your dishes back up out of the sink and come sit here and finish your breakfast like a grown-up. He’s my brother, not the Pope,” Chris chastised me. I saw the sense in what he said and quickly complied just as the elevator arrival ding signaled that our guest had arrived.

  Chris rose and hugged his brother. “Lillie, I’d like you to meet my brother, Corey. Corey, this is Lillie.”

  Corey only regarded me with a glance and I wasn’t sure I liked that dismissive attitude. How many women has he met?

  Corey had come for a purpose, it seemed, and it had to do with his wife, whose name was apparently Daphne.

  “Corey, if it’s the same old gripes, don’t want to hear it,” Chris began, loading a fork filled with scrambled eggs into his mouth.

  “I had to get out for a while. She’s relentless. She asks where I’m going, when I’ll be back, who will I see, what we’ll be doing…you don’t know what it’s like, man.”

  “Told you before. You’re the one who wanted to get married. Not my thing, man.”

  “But Chris… she wasn’t like this when I married her,” Corey complained.

  “People change, Bro. You’ve done your share of that, too, you know. You used to come over to brag what a wonderful girlfriend you had and that I was such a fool to stay alone. Sounds like you’ve changed your tune.”

  “Don’t give me any more shit, man. I’m going through enough of it as it is.”

  “What’s Marga hearing?”

  I was eating quietly, intent on the drama being played out before me. Not having any siblings, this sort of relationship was all new to me.

  “I mean, are the two of you carrying on in front of her? Can she hear you fighting?”

  “Don’t guilt me again, Chris. I do my best, but it’s like Daphne waits until Marga is nearby and then she lets loose. She knows I’ll hold back if Marga can overhear us.”

  Chris glowered at his eggs. I felt sorry for the eggs, and for whomever Marga was.

  “We talked about this,” Chris warned.

  “Hey, get off my back.”

  “Hey, you! Now, we were sitting here quietly enjoying a late breakfast when you barged in without calling and bitching about a woman I happen to think is pretty great. It’s not all on her, Corey. There are always two sides to the story.”

  “Yeah, yeah… well, she started this and no one can blame me for getting tired of it.

  “I can,” Chris pointed out, a stern and meaningful look sent out in Corey’s direction. Corey understood the look, evidently, because he shut up, went to the kitchen cupboard and grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks for nothing, big Bro,” Corey said sarcastically, and punched the button to summon the elevator. He left with Chris’ mug in his hand.

  When the elevator swished closed and Corey was gone, Chris released a big sigh. “God, but he’s dramatic. He keeps coming to me with the same old story, over and over. I’ve tried to get them to a marriage therapist, but he makes excuses not to go. It’s their daughter, my niece, Marga, that I’m worried about. I don’t think this is all fair to her.”

  I listened quietly. I really had no experience in this department so anything I’d say would sound hollow. “How old is Marga?” I tried to break the mood.

  “She’s ten. A real sweetheart. If I ever had kids, I’d want them to be like Marga. She’s bright, inquisitive—actually, a little like you. She’s another old soul.”

  I nodded, hoping that was a compliment. He seemed to read the look on my face. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly, “that’s a good thing.”

  I sighed and dumped the remainder of my coffee into the sink. I knew I had to deal with my car and it was cold outside. Cold and liquids always made me have to head to a ladies’ room, so I was limiting my liquids. “Why don’t I call a taxi to take me back to my car?”

  “No need,” Chris said summarily, rising and setting his dishes in the sink. “Your car is all defrosted and sitting in the garage here, next to mine.”

  “Really? How did you manage that?” I asked.

  “Told you I’d take care of it.”

  I stuttered a little in a good way, “Well, well, yes, you did, but…”

  “You thought I was full of shit, right? Admit it,” he laughed and I joined in. I
t seemed we understood one another very well.

  “Okay, so, I’ll be leaving. I’ve got tons to do,” I said and went in search of my coat.

  “Here,” Chris said, and I turned to see him holding out his phone. “Put in your contact information. I want to see you again…soon,” he finished.

  I knew his promise was hollow, but I went ahead and put in my phone number – but the one to the house. It would be disconnected in another week and that way, I could fight my disappointment when I never heard from him again. I could tell myself that it was because of the phone, and not because he never called as promised. I handed it back.

  “Come here, you,” Chris invited, holding out his arms. I went to him and I could feel hot tears rising in my eyes. I knew it was good-bye but I wanted to leave feeling as though there was still a chance. I folded myself into his arms and wrapped myself around his body.

  “Thank you for dinner… and for…well, you know…” I tried to get out, but Chris cut me off, his mouth coming down hard on my own.

  When at last he broke away, he put his index finger on my lips. “You be a good girl now or Santa won’t bring you any toys, you hear?”

  I nodded and turned, grabbed my bag and coat and tapped the elevator call button without looking behind me. I didn’t say good-bye and I looked at the floor. It just hurt too badly to do anything else.

  Chapter 8

  Christopher

  I was in my office, but I certainly wasn’t getting any work done. There were three things plaguing me. The first and most potent was Lillie. I knew she was out there somewhere, packing up to leave town and through no fault of her own, she was having to start over. I felt responsible, even if I wasn’t involved. I still felt strangely committed, and this was an unusual feeling. I’d spent every year of my young adult life turning off my feelings of obligation, at least toward other people. They were dangerous, the personal sense of obligation far more powerful than the individual involved could possibly imagine. I wanted to be able to turn that part of me off—to be just purely business and not need people. I just couldn’t seem to find the way, though.