by Jamie Knight
It was one of the few cases I'd come across in which the author's photo did justice to the reality. The coal-black hair tied back in a neat ponytail and deep, dark betraying a very old soul, belied by black jeans and T-shirt, Wolf Birch looked like Trent Reznor in his prime.
“Hello, pretty lady,” Wolf said as we came up to the table.
“Hi,” I said, not realizing he was flirting with me my attention too much on Chris.
Birch signed our books without looking, keeping his smoldering gaze on me. Despite Chris's failed attempts to get his attention. Finally, we moved on with our books letting the line shift forward.
“Well, that sucked.”
“What did?” I asked.
“All that time in line just to be ignored.”
“He was distracted by my chest,” I said.
“Well, I guess he is only human,” Chris said, his own gaze drifting down to my boobs before flitting quickly away.
Once again, Chris insisted on paying for the freshly signed books. He still looked a bit on edge as we left, so I retook his hand and led him across the street to a boutique coffee shop.
“What do you like?” Chris asked, pulling out my chair for me.
“London Fog,” I replied.
I got out the book as he went to get into the line. I knew I should have gone, Chris seeming to have issues with crowds, but he had insisted. When he came back with a London Fog for me and hot chocolate for him, he looked like he had been through a war zone.
“Thanks,” I said when he set the mug down in front of me.
A grunt was the best I was able to get out of him. I put my hand on his. He flinched a bit but didn't pull away.
Chris looked down at my hand and then up at me. “I'm okay,” he said.
“Okay,” I said, slipping my hand away.
We started to read. I just couldn't wait to get through the first two books to see what was going to happen the synopsis of the current novel just being too thrilling. We were both silent as we read. Though it was the good kind of silence. It felt like we were connecting without the need for words.
We were still reading when the coffee shop started to close. It was one of the independent ones that opened early and closed at 5:30.
“Would you like to go back to my place?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said.
Switching things up a bit, it was Chris who took my hand as we walked, the daylight dimming around us. Though there was something different about it. It was a bit more urgent like he was holding onto me for security or something.
Jeepers was at the door as he usually was, too busy investigating Chris to complain about whatever sin I may have committed before leaving. Deciding he approved of the strange man in his house, Jeepers started rubbing up against Chris's legs, purring as loudly as he was able.
“Jeepers, I presume,” Chris said, looking down at the affectionate kitten.
“Brilliant, Holmes!”
We curled up on the couch, Jeepers hopping up next to Chris, who was his new best friend, and we kept reading. It wasn't a very big couch, and I couldn't really tell if Chris was comfortable with our proximity. Though if he wasn't, he didn't let on.
In an instance of cosmic coincidence that left both of us speechless for a moment, we finished our books within seconds of each other.
“What did you think?” I asked, somehow missing the tears in his eyes. I couldn't blame him, really. It kind of choked me up too.
“It was… wow,” Chris said, wiping the tears away.
“Sadder than the Red Wedding?”
“I wouldn't go quite that far but close,” Chris admitted.
“Yeah,” I said.
It was strange the effect fiction could have on you. Mainly if it was really well done. There had actually been studies done on the connection between reading fiction and the development of empathy.
For all Chris’ scheduling and other oddities, he really was quite sensitive. Even to the plight of fictional characters who were nothing like him. The protagonist of the story was a teenaged Wiccan and on the run with her mortal wife from modern-day Witch-Hunters hellbent on killing them both.
I put a hand on his shoulder to try to comfort him, ready for him to pull away. He didn't. He looked at me, and I leaned in and kissed him. It was a gamble, I knew. But in the moment, it seemed like a risk worth taking.
After a moment of stiffness, Chris started to kiss me back. It was a bit awkward, but I sensed he was doing his best and tried to help him along. When I thought he might be ready, I tried the big test. Gently taking him by the hand, I put it down between my legs on the outside of my pants. There was a moment's hesitation before he started to rub, a bit too lightly but still sending waves of pleasure through me.
“Come on,” I whispered, and led him into the bedroom.
Chris’ dick was already hard by the time I got him on the bed, and his pants undone. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting, but I found myself on my knees, naked from the waist down, looking at the biggest fucking cock I had ever seen. Unsure what to do at first, I took it in both hands, each of them going about halfway around the throbbing shaft and started to stroke him. He made sounds like it felt good, so I kept going, eventually introducing my mouth, gently sucking on the head.
That wasn't nearly enough, though. Not with a cock that good and before long I had it most of the way in my mouth, sucking on it greedily, wanting as much as I could comfortably get and then some. It looked intimidating at first, but I soon found that I loved the feeling of his warm cock in my mouth. It wasn't long before he was coming hard, filling my mouth with warm, sweet cum.
“C-can I lick your pussy?” he asked breathlessly.
Of course, he could! I hopped up on to the bed, so I was next to him and spread my legs wide, holding them back for him, allowing access to my entire pussy. Sliding down to the floor, Chris got on his knees between my uplifted legs and buried his face in my pussy. I honestly thought I might faint from the sheer pleasure as he devoured me. It only took me a few minutes to reach a full, rattling, body shaking orgasm.
Taking the initiative, Chris stood up, still very much between my legs, and slipped the head of his cock inside my very ready pussy. Taking me by the ankles so he could hold my legs back himself, he started to fuck me. He seemed to know what I could take and never more than halfway inside me and topped out at a steady medium rhythm while fucking me, which felt really amazing.
In another instance of coincidence, we came at the same time. Chris barely pulling out in time to cum on my belly, and boy did he! I was suddenly happy for the box of tissue I kept by the bed. Still, better than in my pussy.
Taking him by the shoulders, I pulled him down to me and kissed him hard. He kissed me back. Something about this felt so right.
Chapter Four - Chris
When she was finished cleaning herself off, Shae bent down and sucked my cockhead clean. It was an act of intimacy it surprised me I was able to accept, the spell of lust and pleasure then broken. A different form of “The Zone.” But it was not only okay but really good. I stroked her hair as she sucked, bringing me to a second orgasm, taking my load onto her mouth with class and grace.
Taking off her shirt, revealing her beautiful tits, Shae took me by the hand and guided me onto the bed beside her. We embraced face to face and kissed tenderly. Not only did I feel content but in harmony with her. It felt like I was home.
That was the point that Jeepers came in and curled up at the foot of the bed, starting to purr. I had never seen a cat with better timing. The foolish notion flashed through my mind that it was almost like a family. I couldn't help but think about it. Images flashing through my mind of Shae and me living together. Cooking together in the kitchen. Going for a walk in the park with a baby stroller.
“You know this is the first time?” Shae said out of nowhere.
“You were a virgin?” I asked, trying to hide my shock.
She laughed. “Oh, no, goodness no, I meant it was my
first date for a long while.”
“Oh, why was that?” I combed my fingers through her silky hair.
“I was kind of married.”
“Kind of?”
“Actually. Actually legally married. For five years. The divorce came through a couple months ago. This was the first time I've been out on a date in years or had sex in months.”
“Your ex didn't –”
“Not for the last year or so before it ended. I would almost beg him, but he would always come up with some excuse. Turned out he had a girl on the side. Some 19 year old he'd met online. I caught them in bed together. The last of several stabs in the heart. It's odd, really. I've never really heard of the death by a thousand cuts applied to a marriage before.”
“Why did you marry him?”
“Oh, he was charming at the beginning. Romantic and lovely, swept me off my feet. I was also 25 at the time and had been sheltered much of my life. I didn't know how to recognize a player when one crossed my path. My instincts are a lot better now. Five years in Hell will do that, I guess.”
I wasn't sure if it was how she meant it, but Shae very much made it sound like her marriage had been a mistake. Not only marrying that guy but getting married at all. Her ex could have been so bad he soured her on the entire idea of commitment. I had heard about that happening before.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that she might have been warning me. Maybe she didn't want anything beyond the physical. We clearly connected and the sex was great, as it turned out. Perhaps she wanted a Friends-With-Benefits arrangement. I really wasn't sure how I felt about that.
I sat bolt upright, carried along by the sheer force of my indecision.
“What's wrong?” Shae asked.
“Uh, nothing, I, um, have an early morning tomorrow, and my fish need to be fed,” I said, even Jeepers popping his little head up to see what was going on. Though it also could have also been the mention of fish.
“Oh, okay,” Shae said, sounding disappointed but not crushingly so.
I was confused about her needs, but I didn't want to hurt her. It was possible she never really expected me to stay overnight. I wasn't even sure that she wanted another night or date for that matter. An idea which made me even sadder.
Not having sex again I could live with, but not seeing her again would be difficult. We were so in tune with each other. I wanted countless dates as well as nights. Shae felt so good in every possible way.
Shae seemed to be testing the waters, seeing what things were like after her lousy marriage. I wasn't really sure what to do, but if it came down to it, I would prefer a purely physical relationship over no relationship at all. I could handle a fling. I had done it before, but that had mostly been in relationships in which I wasn't strongly attracted — that wasn't the case with Shae. If anything, I was more invested than I had ever been. It seemed weird after a single date, but I knew her before that. Given a choice, I would undoubtedly prefer both a proper, exclusive dating relationship as well as having the physical side. Call me greedy if you will.
Once I got home, I fed the fish I actually did have and changed into my running clothes. I had taken up running a few years ago. I found it a great way to clear my head, and I'd had some of my best ideas while doing it.
It was the first time I had done a run at night, but desperate times and all that. I just figured I would run a bit faster than usual and stick to my own block, running around the building enough times to feel the burn.
I took the stairs rather than the elevator, trying to get the adrenaline going before I started out. Most people listened to music while running. I preferred to hear what might be coming up behind me. You could never be too careful. Then again, I've also heard that any day above ground is a good day, which also had its merits.
My mind kept racing as I did laps around the block. The voice of reason in my head shouted that it wasn't possible to fall in love so quickly. The voice of experience countering that it should shut the hell up or get smacked in the mouth. It could get pretty heated up there.
It turned out that the run didn't help much. It just got me sweaty and cold, the debate raging in my head hot as ever. Limping into the bathroom, I stripped down to nothing and got into a warm shower, the soothing water quelling the internal debate though leaving me with thoughts of Shae.
Specifically, the memory of her legs open on the edge of her bed, inviting me to pleasure her. That thought wouldn’t leave my mind
Shae’s thighs were so shapely. Her skin was soft under my hands as I ran my fingers up and down her legs, before dropping to my knees and coming face to face with her delicate folds. I had brushed them gently, like flower petals, teasing them pink and watching her pussy open for me as her desire increased.
Leaning forward, I touched her with the very tip of my tongue, enough to taste the cleanness of her skin and the barest honey of her juices. That simple touch had caused Shae to moan. Her hips thrust forward a bit, begging me to go deeper. Using my thumb, I brushed over the hard bud of her clit. It tensed under my touch. I traced my tongue in a straight line up her folds, dipping into her pussy, but just barely.
She had gotten wetter under my efforts. Her juices glazed her skin, enough for me to lick off and taste her good. Her pussy was really sweet. I could feel the vibration as she moaned while I licked her, and the tension in her core increased.
My cock got rock-solid, just thinking about it. I tried to ignore it at first, but it got to the point that action was required. Doing my best to focus on happy thoughts, mainly featuring oral sex with Shae, I rubbed my dick, teasing my shaft, but that wasn’t enough.
I wanted Shae again so badly that I could barely hold back. Using a rough hand, I gripped my cock in a strangle-hold, pumping hard, moving my soft skin, and rubbing my palm over the head. None of this felt as good as Shae’s pussy. It was all I could do, though.
She had felt like warm velvet when I had thrust that first finger inside of her. It was tight, but I twirled a bit, pushing her open gently until I could fit another finger inside of her. Both of my knuckles rubbed on her interior walls, bumping over her g-spot until it quivered under my touch. Licking on her clit, I fucked her hard with my fingers, feeling her pussy tense around me, telling me how much she liked it.
Shae’s moans filled the room. As I remembered each murmur and wail, I pumped my straining dick. I wanted to put it into her again. Her body had clenched me so tight, even when it was just my fingers fucking her.
When she came the first time, it was awesome. Her thighs clamped onto my head, her pussy gripped my fingers, and her clit quivered under my tongue. All the motion caused her back to arch. Shae came so hard for me. Her whole body clamped down then released, pushing out a spray of juice into my face.
Remembering her pleasure sent me over the top. Gasping, I came. Unloading my dick in hard squirts that fell down to the shower floor. It was little relief. Nothing would feel as good as Shae. I needed her body again. I needed to be inside of her.
Chapter Five - Shae
It took a moment to catch my breath. I would be lying if I said it wasn't a shock. I was sure that things had been going really well, and we were connecting. Even Jeepers liked Chris, and my kitten didn't seem to like anyone. Aden joked that Jeepers was my guard cat.
Perhaps Chris just wanted sex or more of a Friends-With-Benefits situation, with reading and tea and the occasional, or even a regular, fuck. I was pretty sure I could handle that. I had already spent years tied to the same guy, who turned out to be a loser. I didn't think that would happen with Chris, but maybe it was better not to take the risk. Perhaps I wasn't really ready to get serious again, even if it was the best sex of my life. At least, that was what I told myself as I got ready for my next shift at work.
There was something about a twelve-hour shift at the ER that put things into perspective. Not only in terms of the pliability of labor laws but also what is seen as a real problem.
I zombie-walked back into the lobby of my b
uilding, noticing that there was mail in my box. I hauled it all out and relocked the box, planning on dealing with it all later, after I'd had some time to sleep.
That had been the plan up until I had spotted the letter from my mother. Her precise, looping handwriting unmistakable. The fact that she regularly used a pen with purple ink and scented all correspondence with lavender also dead giveaways.
It wouldn't be fair to say my mother was domineering. She never made anyone do anything that they didn't want to do. Not directly anyway, but when she made up her mind about something, the only real options were to go along with it or get out of the way. Even if she was absolutely wrong. Especially then.
It wasn't just a letter, though. That I might have been able to handle. But no, life is rarely that simple. Along with the letter, twelve pages at first glance, was an engraved invitation. That might sound like sarcasm, but no. It actually was an engraved invitation. One that cordially — actually the word used — invited me to the family reunion that mom had planned in our hometown in Virginia, despite everyone pretty much agreeing that it was a bad idea. Really the first thing any of us had agreed on in a good long while.
It wasn't that my family didn't like each other. We just didn't really have anything in common, so there wasn't much grounds for comparison or conversation. The only one I really got along with was Aden, and that was mostly through our shared amusement at the others. Particularly my silly little sister Sasha who had fucked off to Australia the first chance she got. We couldn't blame her for wanting to escape, but neither Aden nor I could think of anything more cliché. We didn't like cliché. If Martin Amis hadn't beaten us to it, by many years, we could have collaborated on a book called The War Against Cliché.
Suddenly feeling very awake, I found my phone in my coat pocket and went back to the couch, dialing mom's number. She answered on the second ring as was her custom.
“Hullo, dear!” she said brightly, her drawl a lot stronger than mine.