by Peyton Banks
"Don't… move," he urged.
They both held as still as statues, not moving, not speaking, and Rick realized that trying not to come, while buried balls deep in the best pussy he'd ever personally experienced, was probably an exercise in futility. Trying to cool things down at this point was a bit like trying to push a lava flow uphill.
Keisha's breathing was shallow. Breathy.
"Rick—" she whined.
"Shhhhh—"
The "over-the-cliff" tingle at the base of his spine receded a fraction. When he felt he could move them without detonating into climax, he carried her to his bedroom, shuffling to his bed with their bodies still attached. He fell back on the bed with her still impaled on him, still surrounded by her wetness. They were front to front, attached but still clothed. He could feel the pulsing of her heart, the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He took a deep breath, holding as still as he could, trying not to jostle her as he said one word.
"Condom."
He watched her lust fog lift a bit. Her eyelids fluttered, her lips parted. She said, "Huh?"
His breathing shallow, his dick as stiff and stalwart as a baton, he said, "They work better when you wear them."
Confusion flickered over her face, and she frowned as if trying to do long division. Her hands pushed against his chest, and she managed to move a couple inches away from him.
"Well, I think that's a good idea," she said. "If only we didn't have to untangle ourselves to do it."
He laughed nervously.
Then she laughed, causing her pussy to clench around him. He cringed, and so did she, noting the expression on his face.
"Uh, sorry," she said meekly. "You're not in actual pain… are you?"
With reluctance, he pulled out, wincing as the chill of the air conditioning dealt a lust-dampening blow to his erection. On his hands and knees, and with his jeans still pushed halfway down his thighs, he crept across the vast expanse of mattress to his bedside table. He quickly covered himself, and when he turned around to see Keisha, she had moved herself to the edge of the mattress, her back to him, the dress puddling around her where she sat. Her lithe, brown fingers trembled as she awkwardly tried to unzip the back of the dress.
It seemed to him that they could just as easily remove their clothes later. He attacked her neck from behind, chewing and licking in a way he'd earlier that evening discovered both distracted her and drove her bananas. She startled at his touch, and she squeaked. In a cave-man move, he snatched her from behind and tossed her onto the pillows where her hair, frizzy from all the sweaty activity, puffed out in a dark cloud. She emitted a full-throated giggle at his eagerness.
He flipped her skirt up, lifted and opened her legs, and in the next moment, was once again buried to the hilt inside of her.
This was so unlike me, he thought as he began to glide in and out of her.
And good Lord! She felt so damn good. He didn't think he was exaggerating. At all. Judging by the look of pure joy on her face, he was sure he wasn't exaggerating. Despite the frigid air conditioning, she had a sheen of perspiration on her upper lip.
She was soft and yielding, where he was hard and demanding.
He wanted to sink himself into every part of her being, but he could only sink his body into her, so that's what he did. He pumped into her steadily, and since the first crazed rush of desire had diminished a bit, he was able to slow down. He used his hips to explore her secret parts. He sought all the places that brought her pleasure, and when he found them, he kept up the relentless pace to drag every bit of pleasure out of her that he could.
She panted. She keened. He planted his face in her shoulder as deeply as his cock sought her secret places. She murmured nonsense in his ear, words to encourage him, words of passion. She clawed at him. She opened wide for him, welcoming him into her womanhood with abandon.
As he stroked into her, he also paid attention to her reactions. It was obvious her neck was a crazy sensitive erogenous zone. Anything he did to her elicited screams, babbling, and fierce bucking beneath him.
"Take it, take it..." she was saying now, writhing and moaning and straining against him.
"I'm taking everything, baby," he assured her. "I'm making you mine."
Their frenzied pace, their galloping rhythm, faltered as Rick neared his climax. He could feel it coming, the build-up of tension, the quickening pace, it all signaled the beginning of his loss of control.
He buried his face in her neck again. And somehow, Keisha sensed it too, because her movements became more coaxing, teasing, and she shrieked in his ear.
"Rick, take it. Take it," she repeated. "I can feel you. I can feel you about to come."
"Are you close, baby?" he said, his voice ragged.
"Yes! Yes! Come with me!"
With a guttural groan and a primal grunt, Rick went off like a rocket. Keisha pulsed and squeezed around him, prolonging his pleasure, as Rick emptied himself into the condom.
"So, tell me," Keisha said, drawing circles on Rick's chest with her fingertips. "What made you so hell bent to do something nice for me?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips curled in a sly smile. He frowned, started to say something, and she hastened to add, "Not that I'm complaining!"
Although, in the beginning, she had been complaining.
“My Uncle Jonathan was not very happy about me borrowing his car,” Rick said. “He doesn’t approve of my lifestyle.”
Keisha frowned. “What does that mean? What about your lifestyle?”
“He would prefer I worked in the family business,” he said. “I’ve lived with my uncle since my parents passed away when I was a senior in high school. It wasn’t an easy time for me. Doing the foundation’s work allows me to give back to the community, but Uncle Jonathan would rather I work in the business.”
“But you are doing so much good, aren’t you?” Keisha said, leaning up on one elbow to look at Rick. “It’s a noble job. I would think he’d be proud of your work?”
Rick shrugged.
“I never asked you this before, but why did you borrow your uncle’s car, and how did you wreck it?”
“I’ve borrowed it before,” he said. “I wanted to take it to impress the kids at the charity event I had that evening. Believe it or not, I hit something on the road and lost control of the car. It was a freak accident.”
“Wow, that’s harsh,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” he said, looking chagrined. “Uncle Jonathan has always been like this. I have no idea why.”
“He makes you work for his approval, huh?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Like a certain young woman I know,” he smiled, bopping the tip of her nose. “Why did you resist me? "Most people—most women—like to be showered with gifts."
"Hmm," she said. "I'm basically a middle-class, small town girl. It's not really in my makeup to take something from a stranger."
He gave her a skeptical look.
"Maybe it's just not what you're used to," she said. "I mean, people not taking your gifts."
He shrugged and made a noncommittal head gesture.
"We have so much money that's it's not really a big deal," he told her. "When I give gifts, the money doesn't mean much to me. After all, it's my job."
He slid the fluffy white duvet off her body, exposing her naked breasts. Her nipples promptly tightened. He thumbed a dark-tipped peak, then rolled it gently between his thumb and forefinger, sending a zip of sensation from her nipple to her clit, like the two were somehow tethered together. He leaned forward, captured her nipple between his teeth, and sucked. She arched against him.
He nuzzled her, abrading her skin with his stubble. Then he rolled her on her back, pushed her shoulders into the pillows, and peppered kisses on her skin.
"You really have a beautiful body," he mumbled. "I can't get enough of you."
He nuzzled her neck, and she pushed him away.
"You couldn't possibly want to go again!" she said
, mouth agape. "We already fooled around, what? Three times?"
"Like I said, I can't get enough of you," he reiterated. He leaned back and looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “And I have some specific fantasies we haven’t gotten to yet.”
“Like…” she prompted.
“The usual,” he shrugged. “I’ve got a pair of fuzzy handcuffs with your name on them.”
Keisha’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
He gave her a devious smile, made grabby hands at her...then he pounced.
10
They arrived in Blue Heaven the afternoon before the wedding. Keisha had been tapped to give a reading during the service, and after the wedding rehearsal, she and Rick joined the rest of the wedding party and out of town guests at an upscale barbecue restaurant.
Keisha was pleased at how the evening had gone. Rick proved to be a charming dinner guest, no doubt a skill he'd perfected after attending charity events over the years. He charmed Keisha's mother shamelessly, fetching her drinks and anything else her heart desired, telling her amusing stories, and fawning over Keisha as if she were the love of his life. He praised her unflappability in the face of his recent accident. He shared photos of the yurt complex they'd shared for the past week, as well as some of the other activities they'd done the past week.
He looked dashing in a tailored sport coat, jeans, and a blue button-down shirt that brought out the startling blue of his eyes. They held hands whenever they were seated together, and Keisha found herself thinking being with Rick was fun and kind of effortless.
Rick was handsome, rich, funny, compassionate, and a demon in the sack.
She found herself wondering, Debbie Downer style, what was wrong with him. He was a little too perfect. There had to be something wrong with him.
"I sent her flowers," Rick said to her mother, leaning in and speaking to her in a confidential tone. "She refused to meet with me. So, I sent her more flowers. Finally, I had to resort to low-key stalking her."
He was smiling as he said this, a teasing glint in his eyes. He kissed Keisha lightly on the lips, and she smiled back at him. Her mother beamed at them with hearts in her eyes. Keisha was sure her mother was mentally planning their future nuptials.
"Well, here we are!" said Keisha, a bright smile plastered across her face. "All's well that ends well!"
Her mother nodded and smiled, but her expression was tight, a small crease appeared between her eyebrows, and her eyes went a little hard. Assessing. Keisha kept right on smiling, realizing her mother suspected something was up, but willing to take this supposition to her grave, if need be.
Rick was hers for the weekend only, and Keisha was okay with that. She just needed to make it through the next couple days to get her mom off her back for a while. And it wasn't like she was actually lying to her mother. She was just… letting her mom come to her own, incorrect conclusion.
"So, what will you be up to when you go back to Dallas?" her mother asked, her eyes on Rick. To the uninitiated, her mother was making small talk. But Keisha knew she was, in fact, interrogating Rick.
Keisha was actually interested in Rick's answer to this question. Where did he see their relationship going? They had made no promises to one another before hopping into the sack together. Keisha told herself she was fine with that.
Rick smiled, and even blushed a little.
"Have you met Rick's parents yet?" her mother asked.
Beside her, Rick stiffened.
"Mom..." Keisha started.
"Mrs. Williams..." Rick said at the same time.
Keisha squeezed Rick's hand reassuringly.
As Rick averted his eyes, Keisha said, "Mom, Rick's parents died when he was fourteen...in a car accident."
"Oh..." Her mother placed the fingers of one hand over her surprised mouth. Her pleased expression faded. "I'm sorry for your loss."
He shrugged, because really, what else could he do? Keisha rubbed his arm in comfort.
"It was a long time ago," he said, as if that made it better.
The awkward moment was interrupted by a tinkling glass. Someone was giving a toast.
Everyone turned to the head of the long picnic-style table where the best man was apparently giving a toast to one of the brides.
Her mother's attention was riveted to the toast. Keisha leaned over to whisper in Rick's ear.
"You okay?" she wanted to know.
"Yeah," he said, squeezing her hand.
After dinner, they said goodnight to the rest of the wedding party and headed back to the Escalade, where William held the door for her.
They had stayed at a bed and breakfast near the wedding venue, and later, after they'd made love and were drifting off to sleep, with the lights out, Rick said, "My parents would have loved you."
"You think so? I don't seem like your usual type," she said even though it went without saying.
"My usual type?" he asked her. She had her head on his shoulder, and when he spoke, his voice rumbled in his chest.
"I... might have Googled you," she confessed, cringing. She dragged a fingertip down the center of his chest.
He chuckled. "That's cool. I had you investigated, a bit."
"Oh, did you?" she asked.
"You know, I think I can hear you rolling your eyes in the dark," he told her, rubbing her bare arm.
She let out an unladylike snort. "Well, I can hardly give you a hard time for doing the same thing I did," she said. "And, well...." she let her words trail off, not going into detail.
"Well?" he prompted.
"I know about the sex tape." She winced in the dark, even though he couldn't see her face.
"Oh."
They were quiet for a few long moments. She played with the hair on his chest, and he drew lazy circles on her shoulder. She was so relaxed that she was starting to drift off when his voice rumbled in his chest again.
"What did you think?" he asked.
"Hmmm?" she said absently.
"About my sex tape," he said.
What to say to that?
"I watched it with my cousin," she told him drowsily. "She had nothing but praise for your cunnilingus technique."
Silence for more long moments, and Keisha felt a veil of unconsciousness start to settle over her again.
"She critiqued how I eat pussy?" His body still felt pretty relaxed. Keisha didn't think he was offended.
"She thought you were good at it," she told him, thinking this would make him feel better. Maybe even flattered. "But we didn't get into specifics."
"Is this the cousin with the blue hair?" he wanted to know.
"Yep," she said. "Tandy. She'll be at the wedding tomorrow."
"I see," he said. Then he was quiet for a while, and she started to drift off again.
"Did you know that you are very pretty when you sleep?"
Sensing sleep would not be happening any time soon, she propped herself up on one elbow and stared into the dark. There was just enough light filtering in the window that she could just make out his features in the dark.
"You watch me when I'm asleep?" she asked him.
"Yes, because you are pretty when you do it."
She shrugged and let her head drop to his chest again.
"Good to know," she said. "You ready for sleep yet, babe?"
He yawned loudly. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Good," she said.
"Hey, do you want to keep seeing each other when we go back to Dallas?" His voice had dropped almost an octave. His body was still relaxed.
She sighed. "You'll be off the hook after this weekend. Your good deed will be done, and we can go back to our normal lives."
"But I don't want to go back to our normal lives," he said. "Keisha, I'm sort of… falling in love with you."
It took a moment for her to register what he'd said. When it did, she was wide awake, her eyes popping open.
"Excuse me?" She lifted her head.
"I'm ready for sleep," he said. "Good night, baby."
11
The weather for the wedding was expected to be gorgeous, and Keisha was buzzing with happiness for her sister Imani. Since there were two brides, the service would be performed at the Unitarian Universalist church, with a reception held under a tent in the park behind City Hall. Keisha would be giving the reading in a powder blue dress, one of many Rick had purchased for her during their vacation on South Padre Island.
Rick zipped her dress for her, and she returned the favor by knotting his tie, surprising him. At his request, she tied a half nelson, expertly looping and knotting it, her eyes alternating between looking into his and looking at the tie.
"This is a lost art." He smiled at her, capturing her hands as she put the finishing touches on the knot.
"My dad is quite dapper, you may have noticed," she said. "All us girls know how to knot a tie."
Rick thought about the dark-skinned man he'd met the night before, Edgar Williams, who had a neat appearance and upright posture. Though he hadn't worn a tie the night before, Rick could well imagine him knowing how to tie one.
"About last night..." he started.
She looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow.
He sighed in frustration. "Okay, I suck at things like, you know, feelings," he said, shifting uncomfortably.
She waited long moments for him to say more, but he didn't seem to have the words.
"We don't have to talk about this," she said.
"I want to," he said, placing his hands on her hips. The blue party dress looked beautiful on her, the crisp silk fabric the perfect shade of powder blue to set off her brown complexion. It had a modest neckline that suited her small chest, and flared from the waist to just below her knees. The dress went with dyed to match shoes, suede instead of fabric, and a small powder blue cardigan.
"Okay..." She made to look away, to turn away, but he held her arm. He placed a finger under her chin and raised her face to look into her eyes.
She sighed again. "You're confusing me," she said. A nervous crease between her eyebrows appeared.