She released my mouth from hers long enough to steer me back to her tits. She straddles me as I take the left in my mouth, while she plays with the right. There’s no fake fingernails, orange glow on her skin or a single piece of metal marring her perfect skin
“Bite,” she demanded and I did, not enough to draw blood, but enough to elicit a moan from deep in her throat. I scrape my teeth against her nipple again, as I know she enjoyed it.
Her fingers continue to pinch and play with her nipple, as her hand, which held a fair amount of my hair, fumbles with the button fly of my pants. I won’t rush or deter her from her mission. She has magic fingers or witch powers, it’s the only explanation I have for how my Levi’s ended up on the floor.
The fingers, which had skillfully removed my jeans, were now very gently cradling my balls, it felt heavenly. Her thumb brushed across the underside of my cock and the simple touch is enough to nearly make me come. She grasps my very engorged dick in her hands, her eyes staring into mine, almost as if she were asking me for permission.
Her fingers, were like a fine piece of silk, against the soft flesh of my cock. I’m unable to suppress the moan or deep intake of breath, hissing between my teeth. Erotic strokes, so skillfully done, they cause my ass to rise off the bed, trying to grasp the last ounce of pleasure. She needs no warning of my need for her, no required begging to be inside of her. She released me with a soft plop of my dick to her bare pelvis and I know I’m about to touch heaven.
Grasping my face between her tiny little hands, she rises up, my cock pressing against her pelvis, following a trail down. Her eyes searching mine, for what I’m not certain.
And then…
She eases down on me.
And…Warmth.
Incredible amounts of pressure, she is so tight. More so than any ass I’d stuck my dick in. It’s nearly too much, so unlike anything I’d ever felt, so overwhelming I am forced to close my eyes and rest my forehead against her chest.
Claire is in control, riding up and down on my cock, her rhythm isn’t established, yet feels so amazing. Her breathing is steady, long pants on occasion. She isn’t vocal, screaming for me to fuck her harder, which is honestly a nice change. I returned my hands to her tits as something tells me this will bring her to the edge. Her jerky movements tell me I was correct, so I press harder, rolling her nipples between my fingers.
“Oh, yes…”
“R-right…”
Her orgasm hits her, I can feel it. She holds her breath as the final waves crash over her. One final thrust with her pelvis, as if seeking those last few spasms her body enjoys. When I’m certain she’s finished, I cradle her back and head. I refused to disturb the euphoria she is swimming in, the remnants of the pleasure she took from me, a gift I willingly gave and would, again and again.
I ease her back against the sheets, our bodies never separating as our position changes. I have to look at her. I need to watch her face as I slide in and out of her, feel her fingers as they caress my skin, her hips as they rise up to meet mine, and her calves as she wraps her slender legs around me.
Her thrusts are increasing, she is close again. I want this for her, which is another thing completely out of character for me. I’ve always been into sex for what I can get from it. This time, it’s different, so very different.
“Dylan…”
“Y-yes, baby.”
Her eyes tell me everything. With one final kiss, she arches into me and I fall, so goddamn hard I fall. What scares me the most isn’t the way I feel, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t feel this way too.
All good is hard. All evil is easy. Dying, losing, cheating and mediocrity are easy. Stay away from easy
~Scott Alexander
Being bold has never been a quality I was blessed with. It’s one thing to fall into a leadership position with work, but taking control with Dylan felt natural. There were no jittery nerves or fear of feeling inadequate. Never once did I find myself questioning the number of women who had slept in his bed before me.
He allowed me to set the pace, which surprised me as I had always assumed by his personality he was a dominating person. With me, it’s as if he can be a different person, a softer version of himself. It was the softer side of him, which radiated through as he laid me back, eyes warm and touch gentle, he gave me exactly what I needed, no direction or guided tours. Everywhere he touched me felt beyond description.
In the wee hours of the morning, I felt him stir, reach over and check his cell phone, and then quietly replaced it on the night stand. I remained perfectly still, slightly afraid he would ask me to leave. Instead, he molded his body to mine. Something in me came to life, an almost carnal need for him. And just like the hours before, I took him in my hand, stroking him to life.
Feeling bold once again, I encouraged him to lie on his back, my lips following the planes of his chest, muscles flexing from the heat of my touch. Having such a powerful man conforming to my will was such a rush. I didn’t think as I descended on him, licking the rim first, and then sliding my tongue in the tiny slit. Shane never appreciated blowjobs, he was a get in and get out kind of guy.
But Dylan wasn’t Shane, there was no comparison, no reason to even try. This man, the one who had turned control over to me once again, ran his hands through my hair, the tips of his fingers appreciating the connection my lips made on his hardened cock. Letting me take my time as I savored him.
“Baby, c’mere,” his husky, wanton voice cut the silence of the room. His relinquish of control gone, as I found myself flat on my back with my knees in the air, the scruff of his growing facial hair scratching the inside of my thighs in sweet, sweet pain.
This was an avenue I’d never ventured down. No man had ever placed his face where Dylan had his tongue and fingers buried. Just as with my nipples, he sucked, lapped, and nibbled at every inch of skin he could. The crescendo, the moment when I swore I saw heaven, was when he flattened his tongue, running it from the bottom of my entrance to my swollen nub. He circled my clit three times before ending with that fucking magical tongue, playing hockey with my tonsils as his dick slid into me.
“Claire, you don’t look so good.”
It had been nearly a month since that magical night. Waking in the late afternoon the next day to Dylan once again between my thighs. I was gleefully satisfied after the many rounds we’d managed to consume. Being with him was like nothing I’d ever known existed.
It was also a one time event. Not because we had broken things off, the opposite actually. Dylan and his brother, Austin, had teamed up on a project. Nearly every night they had their heads together over a computer screen. He would text me silly things and sweet words, and every night before I would head to bed, he would call me, and tell me some of the things he would be doing to me if he could crawl in bed with me.
Last week, a nasty stomach bug reared its ugly head, infecting nearly half the city it seemed. This morning I woke up to not only a queasy stomach, but also my period.
“Funny, I don’t feel well either.” I admitted as the room began to spin.
Dr. Forrest, the new hot-shot doc around here. His presence had created quite a ruckus with the female staff. His sandy blonde hair and green eyes made more than a few nurse fan themselves.
He was also solely responsible for Dr. O’Leary being asked to resign, in reference to his conduct with the nursing staff. In a case of being at the right place at the right time, he was able to testify before the board what he’d witnessed.
McGuire’s went up for sale three days later. Rumor had it, the family had been experiencing some financial issues that they were counting on Megan’s family to help with once the new bride and groom had become established. With an annulment already signed and filed, the money tree had been cut down. Last week, when I went to visit Lainie, there was a foreclosure notice on the iron gates outside Sean’s condo.
As far as Dr. Forrest, he had his eyes set on a certain brown haired nurse. He and Shay
la had their first date planned for this upcoming weekend, but she was scheduled to work and had been offering several people extra money to take her shift.
“Tell you what, I’ll give you something for the dizziness and the nausea which is sure to come,” he said feeling my forehead and the glands in my throat. “You call someone to pick you up, so you can sleep this off and be back to the charming girl we all know and love.”
My body wouldn’t allow me to argue as I tried calling Dylan. When his phone went directly to voicemail, I remembered he was going to pick up a part for an old motorcycle he and Austin were restoring. He’d warned me earlier he didn’t think he would be in cell phone range until late. Lainie was still away on business, which left me to try and call Carson. However, his phone also went to voicemail.
“I can give you a ride,” Shayla offered. It was time for her break and I only lived a short drive away. She needed to grab something to eat and her favorite sub place was a short detour on the way.
Shayla drove a massive black truck. With the issue of the streets flooding with the rain storms, she preferred the height the truck gave her. Even though it was a bitch to climb into, I couldn’t agree with her more.
“So I have to ask,” she hesitated while pulling out of the parking lot. “Are things really good with Dylan?”
Her question wasn’t entirely unexpected, she did after all have, at least on some level, a relationship with him. “It is. I’ve even had the meet the family dinner, although it was one of his brother’s guests who was nearly asked to leave.”
Austin called Dylan the evening after our night together and told him he had discovered something about Harmony and wanted to talk with him. Not twenty minutes later, Priscilla called, but Dylan didn’t mention what she said.
“Really? Meeting the ‘rents already?” Her surprise wasn’t lost on me. I didn’t want to say too much, though, her wounds could still be open, even if she was attempting to move on.
“Well, shit!” She cursed, flicking on her signal. I looked from her to the road ahead. Red and blue lights flashed, three vehicles rested in the center of the intersection, the one we needed to turn down. “Looks like I’ll be busy when I get back from lunch.” An ambulance was pulling away as she made her left turn. I prayed no one suffered any major injuries.
I’d never driven down this particular street, shops and restaurants packed both sides. We passed one of the city’s many parks as she continued to head west. Once I felt better, I would have to venture down here, wander around some of the older shops and see what treasures they held.
We had been waiting at a busy intersection, waiting for the car in front of us to turn left when I noticed movement to my left. I blinked my eyes a few times; confident it was my medication creating an illusion. Shayla was talking about something in the back window of the car, but the sight before my eyes captured all of my attention.
Mickey’s and Millie’s Bar and Grill, was in gold lettering against the black marquee. With glass windows on two sides, patrons inside were easily visible. Standing just at the corner of the building, with his hands cupping the face of a nameless blonde, was Dylan. Their conversation was serious as his lips moved rapidly, while she nodded her head as her hands gripped his forearms. Her long hair danced in the breeze, her slender legs ending in mile high heels.
I now understood the late nights and his warnings to not try and call him. It had nothing to do with a motorcycle part, but his cowardice to admit to me he had indeed, as Shayla had warned, grown tired of this vanilla life.
Shayla made sure I opened my door and got into the elevator before she pulled away from the curb. What measure would I need to take to forget about him like she did?
My phone rang midday the next morning, Dylan’s smiling face flashing across my screen. My anger was still too much to have a productive conversation, one which would come as soon as I was able to wrap up my emotions in a nice little bow and toss them in a drawer for safekeeping.
In the early evening, my security buzzer lit up, I knew it was him without looking. I still wasn’t ready to say what needed to be said, so I sat in the darkness of my apartment, shades drawn and in the middle of my Egyptian cotton sheets, grateful our one night had been in his bed and not mine.
Just after seven the next morning, I phoned Shayla and offered to take her shift so she could enjoy her date with Dr. Forrest. Dylan’s calls continued to go unanswered, his text messages unread.
Now, I had taken on the role of the chicken shit, avoidance becoming my best friend. But by the third day, my anger had turned to determination. I had to talk with someone, to confide in someone about his betrayal and somehow make him own it.
Fooling my friends and coworkers was easy, they assumed my foul mood was a direct result from my slow recovery. They didn’t see the tears I shed when I closed my apartment door. They didn’t know I had scrubbed myself nearly raw when I got home that first night in the shower. And what they really didn’t see, would never know, was how I asked myself in the mirror every morning how I could have been so stupid to fall for a guy like Dylan?
Sitting inside my sanctuary, the break room I had discovered long ago, my shift had ended nearly an hour earlier. Lainie would be home tomorrow and I wouldn’t be able to keep this from her for a minute.
I reached inside my bag and pulled my silent and forgotten cell phone out. Pressing the power button, I allowed the screen to come to life with the multitude of new messages I would never examine. I pressed the numbers I knew by heart and waited patiently as the sounds of the impending call went through. As his deep voice reverberated through to my ear, the uncontrollable sobs broke free. He begged me to tell him where I was, but my emotions wouldn’t allow a single word to come through. He waited with reassuring words as the hurt and anguish took over my body. Not once did he ask what was wrong, he knew by the forceful crying.
“Can you meet me at the coffee shop?” My tears let up enough to get out a few words. He would know which one, the only one we ever went to. “And don’t tell Dylan.”
Thirty minutes later, I sat slumped in an overstuffed chair, my bag lying haphazardly at my feet. My back was intentionally facing the entrance, avoidance still lingering. All of these emotions weighed down on me, exhausting me in the process.
“Claire?” Carson appeared from thin air, as I never heard the bell over the door sound. “What’s going on?” He sat on the edge of the coffee table, his hands rested gently on my knees. I leaned forward, the sting of tears behind my eyes. I was sick of crying, allowing another human, and one who thought so little of me, to bring this ridiculous reaction from me.
“I’m sorry to drag you into this.” I sniffed the few tears, which managed to escape. “The last thing I want is to place you between a rock and a hard place.”
Carson wipes the traitor tears away, pulling me up from the chair and wrapping his arms protectively around me. “How about you let me decide what kind of position you’re about to put me in.”
We ordered coffee, Carson pulled out a tiny liquor bottle, a smirk on his face. “I thought this might come in handy.” He dumped half the bottle into my cup, motioning for me to drink up.
With the combination of the alcohol and the company present, my body was finally able to relax. Carson sat back, drinking his own coffee as I started to tell him my side of the story.
Two cups of spiked coffee later, Carson leaned forward, looked to the floor and rubbed his hands over his face several times.
“Claire, honey. I’m so sorry, but this is really my fault.”
Honesty is the highest form of intimacy
~Anonymous
“Dylan, how am I supposed to tell him?”
The last few days had been a series of shit shows. Austin had phoned me, very cryptically telling me he had discovered something he needed my help with. Then Momma called to tell me the silver comb and brush set was missing from the china cabinet. I asked her if she called the police, but she reminded me I was still technicall
y the police.
Austin’s news was currently dancing on a pole in the center of the stage. With her tits sandwiching the metal cylinder, an old as fuck man chanted for her to, “Show me the pearls!”
“I don’t know, man. How about, Chase your girl should leave her work clothes at work.” Judging by the fuck you look he shot my way, he didn’t share my humor.
“Listen, you and I both know our baby bro. He’ll defend the tramp until he walks in here and sees her.”
Chase for all of his good qualities, he had one major flaw. If the girl he was seeing at the time pissed on his leg and told him it was raining, he’d believe her. Showing him Harmony was actually a stripper would do more harm than good. We could try and bring him here, but knowing him, he would worry about what Harmony thought.
So we snapped a few photos, took two songs worth of video, and then got the fuck out of there.
Carson called me as I was about to pay Momma a visit. He was just finishing out his shift when he responded to a call in his neighborhood. “If you were truly serious about helping this city, meet me in an hour at your house.”
I called Dad and asked him if he could stall her for a couple of hours so I could meet with Carson.
I pulled up to my house to find Carson waiting against the back of his car, ankles crossed with his uniform shirt untucked. He looked upset and judging by the tone he used earlier, this was serious.
“Hey, you okay?” I questioned as I extended out my hand for him to shake, taking him into a man hug.
“Can we go inside first?” His no nonsense tone left no room for discussion. Unlocking the door and disabling the alarm, I headed for the fridge to grab a couple of beers. I popped the tops and handed one to Carson who said nothing before tipping the bottle back and consuming nearly half of it.
Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 Page 29