Stroking my cock, I look at Molly’s face on the screen. Her smile. Her long legs. The perfect curve of her tits. That hot little outfit.
I’m heading over.
Molly
I open the window to peek outside and Travis springs in. He didn’t use to be so athletic. This could take some adjustment.
“What in the world?” My wide eyes meet his. “I just text you thirty seconds ago.”
“I was waiting outside.” He stammers. Something’s up. He looks frazzled. Anxious.
With one eye on him and one eye on the window, I pull it down and lock it. When I spin around, he winds his arm around my waist and crashes his lips to mine. I gasp in protest, but the taste of his breath leaves me weak, confused and famished for more. By force of instinct, I reach for his face to pull off his glasses.
He chuckles. “Are you looking for something?”
I nod and use my finger to outline his nose and cheekbones. “My Travis wears glasses. You feel a little like an imposter.” I whine.
He smiles and tilts his head. “If it makes you feel better, I still wear them at night before bed.”
“Oh.” I offer an unsteady grin, unsure if I’ll ever see them. No decisions have been made. I don’t believe I agreed to a second chance, just a roll in the hay. But my pause gives him notice. His eyes zero in with hawk-like precision and his face twists into a familiar grimace.
Damn, he’s on to me.
“What does that mean? What are you planning?” He pushes me away and holds me at arm’s length, forcing me to look him in the eye.
I swat at him and walk away. “Stop that. It means nothing. Did you come here to fight with me?” I stand in the middle of the room and let my robe slip off my body. With my hands on my hips, wearing nothing but tiny white panties and a tight camisole, I dare him to keep fighting. This girl needs satisfaction and I can’t wait all night for this show to get off the ground. I’ve been good too long.
What was I thinking holding out so many years? Why does only this boy bring out my inner skank?
He gasps and narrows his eyes. “I can play that game too, Moll. I don’t look the way I did at eighteen.” He pulls off his shirt and unzips his jeans, letting them fall to the floor.
Heavens.
My eyes grow twice their size. His entire body. All of it. From his calves to his shoulders, all the way through his arms and hands, there is nothing but lean, hard, vascular or cut tissue for Molly Gunther to sample. His abs are solid and ripped. His pecs are powerful. His biceps are bulging. Every muscle is toned. Standing across from him, in my panty-tank set, I feel a flabby. I mean, I look good, but I don’t look this good.
This is outrageous! I don’t even know how my Travis grew up and turned into this man.
I’m supposed to be the pretty one!
Huffing with wounded pride, I reach for my discarded robe and fight to put it back on.
“What the hell are you doing?” He rushes to me and lifts me off the floor.
“Put me down, you’ll hurt yourself.” I kick about, embarrassed he might decipher how much I weigh.
“Behave yourself, please. Why are you trying to ruin our night? What’s going on in your head?” We land on my bed and before I can scramble away, he curls me into his arms and keeps me head-locked in a loving but strange embrace.
I wring my hangs while I search my mind for the proper response. This has nothing to do with feelings. This is practicality. This is our future. We played this game before and it ended terribly. I’m not sure I’m resilient enough to take this level of heartache at my age. You can bounce back at eighteen. But thirty? Travis will break me.
“Look at me. Why did you tense up when I said you could see my glasses before bed? Are you not planning to spend the night with me? Is this it? Is this all you want from me? One night?” His wounded expression gives away his pain as much as silence gives away mine.
“Is that it, Molly?” He wants an answer but this impatient man won’t breathe long enough to let me cough one out.
“Travis...” That’s all I get out before he interrupts me, again.
“Molly, that’s not what this is. You wanted me to fight for you. Let me fight for you.” His soft lips tease mine. When he pulls me close, I wind my arms around his neck but refrain from answering. Twelve years have passed. This is insanity. People don’t come back after this long. Do they?
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted another chance with you?” He cups my chin.
“Travis.” I breathe, softly.
“What, baby?” My heart tweaks. He hasn’t called me baby since I was eighteen years old.
“We need to be sensible. We live in different cities. We want different things. You have your company now. I wanted you to fight for us back then. I don’t know...” He shuts me up with a kiss. When his big lips devour mine, I take leave of my senses. Moaning into his mouth, sputtering out of control, I struggle to stay focused.
Travis is kissing me. For years, I wanted to feel him kiss me again. I tried to move on and compared everyone I met to him. What if this falls apart worse than before? What if my heart never comes back from it?
When we pull apart, he holds my hands and brings them to his lips.
“I want what you want. I want to make you happy. Making Molly Gunther smile every day will make me happy. Feeding you. Loving you. Making you come. If you want babies, I’ll give you babies. Taking care of you, taking care of them and helping you chase every fucking dream you have is what I want. So, don’t’ tell me we want different things. I’ve already had a life without you. Let me be frank, it sucked. Big time. I don’t want to go back to it. If you’ll have me, I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight for us. Forever.”
Damn, that’s good. I told you he was wonderful.
My bottom lip trembles. “But what if...”
He shakes his head. “No ifs. No buts. Let me love you, Moll. This is my calling.”
Travis
https://youtu.be/PK-E1f-YKBA
This is our time of year. This is when we fell in love the first time. It makes sense this is when we find one another again. As I take her into my arms, I need to know she’ll give me another chance. There is no way in hell I can make love to her and let her walk away again. That would break me. Eviscerate me for good. She and I are long overdue. We’ve wasted too much time to let fear or doubt stand in the way of true love.
Because Molly is my true love.
“Can you love me again?” I whisper against her earlobe and trail tiny kisses along the slope of her neck.
“Again? I never stopped.” Curling her arms around my neck, she settles into my embrace. In a peaceful moment, we hold one another. Our bodies wound in a desperate seal where two souls finally reunite, relieved that they’ll never be apart again. My heart is so full, it feels like it might explode.
“I love you, baby.” I exhale, quietly and for the first time in years, envision a happier future.
She smiles and brings her lips inches from mine. “I love you, Travis Booker Ford. Please understand, this is scary for me. Losing you again will destroy me.”
“You won’t. Losing you would kill me. I’ll never take that chance.” I seal my lips to hers in a fiery kiss of madness, ripe with years of unrequited love and the small hope she’ll trust me with her heart. I’ll protect it with my life.
She breaks away, stunned and gives me a silly grin. Her eyes hood, drunk with desire. She pulls back then grazes her hard nipples against my sweaty chest. I shudder from the sensation and thrill from the sight of the most beautiful girl, my girl, trying to seduce me.
“Trav...” The sound of her breathy voice makes my dick swell. I want to hear that sound every time we make love. Every time I pull my cock out of her tight pussy. It’s the sound of longing. Desire. I want her to feel deprived whenever I’m not inside her.
I can’t keep my fingers from tracing every curve and valley of her delicious body. Cupping her familiar breasts, which look slightly lar
ger than the last time I held them, I grin at the sight of her pink taut nipples. Rolling them in my fingers, I lay her down and cover one with my mouth, suckling until the hard bud peaks on my tongue.
“Yes, baby.” My lips tug her nipples, one after the other. While my mouth works one, my fingers keep the other from feeling unwanted.
Fuck, I missed her tits. I’ve been talking too much.
“Travis, I’ve been such a good girl. I need you.” Writhing and twisting, she trembles when I spread her thighs and push her knees forward.
The sight of her glistening, gushing pussy makes me weak. Gazing down from above I take in her flushed face, her dewy skin, the hypnotic look of lust in her eyes and I can hardly ask, “How good has my girl been?”
“It’s been so long since I’ve made love. Not since us.” She feigns modesty and hides her face.
My heart soars, then beats wildly in my chest. I don’t care if she’d been with others. It’s been twelve years. But it means something to me, because neither have I. Not once. The thought of being with anyone else never appealed to me.
Maybe, I knew we’d find our way back to one another.
“Are you laughing at me?” One blue eye peeks from behind her hand.
“Molly, your legs are spread and you’re soaking wet. Why are you covering your face?” I smile and keep her straddled between my hips to prevent her from closing them.
“I just couldn’t. I know it’s weird. But I loved you. Making love to anyone else was repulsive. The thought of making love to anyone else felt like I was betraying you.” She fake sniffles but stops when I cover her with my body and run my fingers through her slit, teasing her swollen clit.
“I’m glad you feel that way. Because it would have been a total betrayal.” I chuckle then back away when she teasingly bites the air near my lips, like a deranged snapping turtle.
“How good have you been, sir? Who did you get so ripped for?” She knits a jealous brow and runs a finger down my chest.
I take her face in my hands and press my lips to hers. With a savage love, I kiss her for all the days I missed. We saved ourselves twice. Once as teenagers and again as adults. This means something. It should mean something. It must. Groaning into her mouth, I answer her question.
“Baby, this is all for you. I promise on a stack of bibles, I haven’t been with anyone but you. I’ve loved you since I was six years old, Moll. This shit is not going away.”
She gives me a blank expression. “You haven’t?”
I shake my head. “No. I haven’t.”
“But, you’re a man. I didn’t expect you.” She stops before she finishes her sentence.
I frown. “I’m a man who loved you, Molly. A man who still loves you.”
“That much?”
I nod.
We kiss in a state of madness. Our lips crash. Our mouth join as one, licking and feasting on the other, but Molly has no time for foreplay.
“Travis! It’s been twelve years!” She shouts, then slaps her hand over her mouth when she remembers we’re at her parents’ house.
Smiling, I kiss her and move my hand to cup her pussy, roughly. Surprised, she jerks back, then eases forward as a smile of content creeps over her lips.
“Did you miss me, baby?” I let my fingers slide through her moist slit, seeking out her clit, then strum it until she spreads her legs to give me better access. She whimpers and nods.
“Thank you for being such a good girl.” I wait for her to respond.
“You’re welcome.” She blushes and sighs, rocking her hips into my hand.
“Do you want me to make this mine, again?” My eyes sweep over her body and land on her face.
She nods and a grin spreads over her face. “I do, Travis. But it was always yours.”
“Damn right, it was, Molly.” I release a breath and take her lips. “I love you, baby. And you will see me with glasses.”
She nods.
“And I’m going to New York with you.”
She nods again.
“And we will do this for the rest of our lives, you hear?”
She nods with gusto as tears stream down her cheeks. “I love you, Travis.”
And it’s on.
Twelve years of pent-up lust turns into a tangle of arms, caresses, kisses, bites, muffled moans, strange confessions of relentless masturbation and above all, hot desperation that neither of us can possibly control.
She’s right. There’s no need or time for foreplay. I’ve been hard for over an hour and Molly is simmering like a kettle.
But fuck, I need a small taste.
Abandoning her lips, I crawl down, spread her thighs and almost squeal with delight. She’s drenched. It looks so inviting, it’s agony not to thrust my cock in immediately and end this torture. But this is too good to pass up. Diving in, free of glasses, I instantly recall all Molly’s sweet spots. She protests my delay, but my mental map doesn’t fail me. When I swipe my tongue along her gushing slit and zero in on her perfect spot, her pathetic protest transforms into a shameless guttural moan.
“What were you saying?” I stroke and suction, teasing her hard clit while my fingers ease into her oozing canal.
She’s speechless. Her body tenses and writhes with every lick. I ask again but she gives me a dismissive wave, urging me to either shut up or finish what I’m doing. When her tiny hand pulls my hair, I dig in. The more I give her the more she teems with pure lust. She twists, arches her back and offers herself to satisfy my needs. Her hands cup her breasts, pulling her tight nipples and giving me a nice visual while I send her over the edge.
“Let me see you come, Molly. It’s been so long, baby.” I tongue her pussy, stabbing it while she shatters in a white-hot climax. Her body shivers. Her honey flows into my mouth, drowning me in her taste. I can’t wait. I need her.
“Travis! Please!” She shrieks with ecstasy, bucking wildly against my mouth before she extends her arms to pull me close.
Molly needs me. I won’t let her down.
Without further delay, I plunge into her. Our eyes lock and we gasp together. We’ve never made love without a condom. I’ve never felt her bare. I’m overcome with emotion. Overwhelmed by the intensity. Her tight pussy, tighter than I ever fucking remember it, stretches around my cock and I bury it all the way to the hilt. She whimpers while she adjusts to my invasion, then slowly rocks her hips, meeting every thrust, until the depth can’t be fathomed, and the pleasure can’t be measured.
“Baby, you’re going to make me come too fast.” I hold her steady, grunting with every slow plunge, but her pussy clenches and squeezes my cock like a vice. Nothing I do will keep the cannon from firing.
She wraps her legs around my waist and urges me on. With each thrust, her moans grow louder. She muffles her howls against my skin, until the howling in my ear, praising every inch I give, threatens to disgrace me. I can’t come until she does. Not this time.
“Oh god, Travis. Yes!” Molly moans, undulating and lost in a sea of pleasure. While she writhes aimlessly, dewy with sweat, her pussy spasms around my cock, dousing it with sweet honey.
And that’s all I fucking need. Holding my woman in my arms, I take a long look at her beautiful face, kiss her trembling lips and for the first time, blast rope after rope of warm cum inside her.
She’s mine. She was always mine. And now she always will be.
Molly- A Year Later
https://youtu.be/3YcNzHOBmk8
I haul ass through the jetway, rush through the gate and zoom into the ladies’ room. Oh, I hate being pregnant. Not really. But it sucks on flights. Travis is heading up the rear and lugging our carry-on bags. He knows the drill. Seven months pregnant with his long-legged son kicking my bladder on a four- and half-hour flight was an exercise in torture.
“Over here, baby.” He calls to me from across the aisle. All 6’5 inches of gorgeousness, complete with dark rim glasses that I occasionally get him to wear because they get my hot.
I slither ov
er, give him a kiss and wrap my arms around his well-toned body. I still miss my gangly man, but I’ve learned to accept this hottie for his inner beauty and remarkable stamina. Feeling refreshed and excited to see my Mama, I lead the way through the holiday crowd, humming Christmas tunes and wiggling my behind for Travis’s viewing pleasure.
“I see you, Moll. And if I see It, everyone else can, too.” He chides.
I peek over my shoulder and wrinkle my nose. “No one is looking at my fat ass, Travis. Look what you’ve done to me!” Actually, I think I look pretty good for seven months, but I love fishing for compliments.
“Hush up. No talks about Molly Ford that way. Not even Molly Ford.” She smiles and wraps a possessive arm around my waist. We’ll be married a year on New Year’s Eve, but he still acts as jealous as he did in high school. Every boy in sight is trying to steal his cheerleader.
I indulge him. It makes sexy times a teensy more thrilling.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” I crane my neck and demand a kiss.
Hopping on the escalator, we spot our mamas at the bottom dressed in full holiday splendor. When they spot me and my burgeoning belly, they both cover their mouth in unison. I’m seven months. They know we’re expecting. They just having seen the belly.
“Mary Margaret Gunther-Ford! Heavens to Betsy! You look beautiful, baby!” Mama gushes with pride. This is her dream. She will be a Mimi, or a Gigi or a Nana, whatever the hell she plans on calling herself.
“Merry Christmas, Mama.” She prances over and hugs me, holding some back with reverence to the belly.
Mistletoe & Molly Page 4