by Tyla Walker
“Hey there, pretty lady,” he whispers. I smile back at him.
“We caused quite a stir last night.”
“I’d say so,” he chuckles. “But I think we can start a riot.”
Then, the softness of his lips. He kisses me with a gentleness that almost feels like a tease, so I decide to up the ante. I subtly flick my tongue at the door of his mouth and he lets me in, letting mine dance with his.
They’re mingling together, and the tips are brushing against each other. His mouth tastes sweet and juicy, with the texture of a strawberry. I run my hands through his hair and everything feels so soft. So right.
His hand reaches for my left breast. For a moment I pull away from the kiss and I stare at him. This is really happening again. I take his other hand and let it lay on my right breast, egging him on.
He tears open the buttons on my blouse and I feverishly unhook my bra, letting my tits breathe in the cold air. They’re fully exposed and looks at me longingly. I love his look of awe, as if he’s seen Grand Canyon for the first time. With his fingers, he immediately starts brushing the tips of my nipples, and I let out a squeal.
“H-Hank,” I stutter. “That’s my...”
He grins. “Soft spot?”
Hank kisses my nipples and the warmth travels from my tits, to my neck, and up to my lips. I unbuckle his belt, fumbling just a little before sliding it out and tossing it away.
The shirt is the next to go, and I run my hands across the texture of his abs. He’s clearly spent a lot of time in the gym, and now I’m giving him that Grand Canyon gaze. But I’m not satisfied here - I want him naked, and I want him now!
I pull down his boxers to reveal his cock. It’s already so hard, dripping hungrily, and ready for delivery. The sight of him so full for me only makes me wetter, and I slip off my panties to let her breathe. Hank groans at the sight of my drooling pussy. It makes him a little rowdy, and he rubs his shaft against my entrance.
“You’re ready, aren’t you?” he teases, the head of his cock leaning against my clit. “I think I’ve got another idea.”
Inching down over me, I can feel his hot breath going lower and lower until he reaches where I want him most. His tongue feels like magic, like he’s engaging in an act of worship. Buried deep, his face starts to do double-duty: the tip of his nose swiping away at my clit, and his tongue pushing in and out of me.
Waves of pleasure take over my body and I let out a deep, tantric moan. Pulling his head even deeper into me, I enjoy the fuzziness of his hair as it swishes back and forth against the rhythm. Apparently this does something to him, and he desperately growls into my core.
“You taste so good, Cindy,” he says, his warm breath tickling me.
I can’t respond, because I’m too busy falling into a sexual coma. It feels…too fucking amazing. It practically gives me a blackout, and what wakes me up is the sensation of his upright body getting ready to enter me.
“Oh god Hank,” I purr. “Please, take me!”
“No need to be so polite,” he says with a smirk.
When his cock slides in, I moan even louder. The waves of pleasure become tsunamis, and each thrust sends me closer and closer to the edge. His flaming piston is almost too much to handle, but I know I’m talented enough to hang in there for just a moment longer.
Sometimes, even a handsome fella like Hank needs a bit of help. Taking matters into my own hands, I begin to push myself into him.
His eyes widen. “Whoa, whoa…C-Cindy!”
The tables have turned, and now I’m in control. I can’t help but smirk at his face, revealing all the pent-up arousal he needed to release. He’s no longer bucking and pushing into me. I’m taking every inch of him in, and it’s scratching an itch that feels too good to stop.
A stallion of a man is in front of me, fucking me into oblivion. It feels like an earthquake is happening around us, making the bed squeak from the rocking.
After another minute or two, we’re at the point where I can’t keep this up anymore. His face, his body, and his thrusting is making me impossibly wet. It’s too fucking hot for me to handle, and it’s time to let go. His fingers return to teasing the tips of my nipples.
Oh my god you’re too much Hank Kingford. It’s enough to send me over the edge, and I move my hands from his toned chest and let them lay across the bed as I yell my orgasm to the world. Nothing matters anymore. The only thing that matters right now is me, Hank, and the thumping and grinding between us.
“Hank! I’m…I’m…”
“I’m right there with ya, Cindy,” he says, his desperate face looking into mine.
It’s time for him to finish as well. I can feel him on the point of bursting, and it only drills me further into my own pleasure. He begins to yell at the same time as I do, our voices creating an erotic symphony. Our cries harmonize, matching the immense thrill and satisfaction tearing through our bodies.
We’re both cumming at the same time, pushing each other higher and higher. All my breath rushes out of me, and I lock hard round him, begging him to cum harder for me. When the world starts to make sense again, I nibble a bit into his neck, almost hard enough to leave a hickey.
Hank’s body collapses on top of mine and we both lay there, naked and drenched in sweat. The aftershocks keep coming, but I still have the stamina to kiss his neck and play with his hair. Each time he shudders into me, I clench around him.
I can still feel the tinges of pleasure travel from where he’s lodged, up to my nipples, and clear through to my head. He’s completely spent, breathing into my ear. All he can do is snicker at how wild we just were, and I join him in laughing.
“You really are something,” he says. “Y’know that?”
“You sure brought it out of me.” And, it’s true. The kind of abandon he inspires is incredible.
With one last look at my body, he covers me in a flurry of kisses, each one tickling my nakedness. We kiss one last time before he buries his face back into my neck. A part of me wishes that it didn’t have to stop now, but I know there will be other opportunities to have my way with him. We’re both tired, and we nonverbally decide that it’s better to sleep in than to wake up.
As he drifts away, I can’t help but ask myself all kinds of questions. It feels like such a perfect moment right now – us naked, lying together in warmth. But could Hank really be the right guy for me?
Someone hasn’t made me feel this way in so long, not since Andrew first came into the picture. Look how that turned out: a deadbeat father, and a kid without his father. It’s still unbelievable that Andrew picked a fight with him in the parking lot. What is this, high school?
Either way, I’m not about to allow a child’s pettiness ruin the good time I’m having with someone who’s grown. Hank is more promising than any other man I’ve been with, and right now I feel something more than just sexual desire.
A different kind of love, much more powerful than when I was with Andrew. I hope that this never ends, and I hope that he’s the real deal. My eyes close again as I decide not to press the issue any further.
And with that, we fall asleep together again until noon. I could get used to lazy mornings with Hank…
Nineteen
Hank
Cindy and I sleep together for what seems like an eternity, but in reality I know it’s only noon. The sex this morning was a ton of fun, but it pretty much wore me out. Snoring hasn’t always been my sexiest feature, but my phone starts buzzing before I can embarrass myself in front of Cindy.
The caller ID shows a number I don’t recognize, and I almost decide not to answer. Before I can toss the phone away, a strange feeling tells me that I should pick up. Spam calls are pretty rare for me, so it’s usually someone I know. Pulling away from Cindy, I lay on my back and answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Kingford?” It’s a woman’s voice.
“Yes?”
“I’m calling from Burnet Hospital.” It’s a nurse. “You
r mother’s been admitted, and our records show that you’re her emergency contact.”
“What happened?” I spring into action, sitting up from the mattress.
“Your mother fell down some stairs, and we’re filing some of her paperwork at the ER. Can you come over?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, looking around the room for my underwear. “I’ll be over in two shakes.”
No time to stay in paradise, even if Cindy’s a part of it. If Ma’s in trouble, I gotta get there as fast as I can. Gathering up my clothes, I toss my shirt, pants, and belt on the bed. When I hang up, I see Cindy starting to stir, rubbing the sand out of her eyes.
Neither of us got much sleep last night. I hate to wake her, but there are bigger things on my plate at the moment. She groggily looks at my naked body and smirks.
“God, you’re built,” she says. “I just can’t stop looking at you. Oh, and good morning, by the way.”
“Morning,” I say quickly. “I gotta head out.”
“Is something the matter?” she asks, sitting up and wrapping the sheet around herself.
“Ma’s in the ER,” I say. “Gotta head over and see if she’s okay.”
“Oh my god…what happened?” Now she’s getting up, nudity and all.
“All I know is that she fell,” I say, finally locating my boxers. “Need to make sure I’m there ASAP.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder. I let it sit there for a few seconds while I still my breath, then lean over and give her a kiss. For a moment, I almost wrap my arms around her waist and try to go for round three, but now’s not the time.
By the time I break away from her, my pants are already on, and I’m just about ready to go. She spots my socks in the corner of the bedroom, and brings them over to me. Just before she starts getting dressed, I stop her. I can’t let her walk away thinking that this didn’t mean anything.
“Hey, you can stay if you want,” I say. “I’ll call you if I’m coming back late.”
She arches her eyebrow, surprised that I’m even making the offer. This moment actually means a lot for us. It means that I’m okay with her living in my space, even when I’m not there. Is she going to say something about it? Am I moving too fast? There’s an awkward silence that lasts for a few seconds before Cindy decides to break it.
“I’ll be praying for you and your Ma,” she says. “Call me, okay?”
Nodding, I toss my shirt back on, and give her one last kiss. And then, I’m on my way out.
“And you’re sure you’re okay?” I ask.
“Yes, Hank,” says Ma. “No need to have all that worry up in your head.”
“Thank the Lord,” I say.
“My blood sugar’s been all over the place lately,” she says, adjusting the sheets on her hospital bed. “I coulda woken up and kept going on with my day like normal!”
Letting out a big sigh, I lean back in the folding chair next to her bed. She’s a bit sleepy from the pain killers, but otherwise she looks fine to me. The doctors scared me half to death, saying she fell down the stairs. It was just the last two. Bad, but not terrible.
About thirty minutes ago, I was rushing to her rescue, worried sick. If something happened to Ma, I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I’m just thankful she’s upright and talking.
With the danger past, I find myself leaning back and thinking about Cindy. She looked so beautiful last night… and even better this morning. Her hair all disheveled from everything. Her skin glowing like shining caramel in the light through the blinds.
Maybe I was quick to leave, but I’m sure she knows it was an emergency. When you meet a woman like that, you gotta be careful not to scare her away. If I’m lucky, she’ll still be waiting by the time I come back from the hospital.
“Hank?” “You’ve been staring into nothin’ for five minutes.”
“Huh?” I snap out of it.
“You’ve been staring into nothin’ for five minutes. Whaddya thinkin’ about?” she asks. “I haven’t seen you with a smile like that since college.”
Well, she can still read me like a book, that’s for sure. Why do I feel weird about telling her? There’s nothing to be afraid of. If I feel the way that I feel, I gotta be able to say it with conviction.
Besides, it’s time Ma knows about Cindy. I never really bring up a woman unless she’s worth talking about, and Cindy’s definitely worth mentioning. Just as I’m on the cusp of telling her, a strange feeling wells up inside my chest.
“Well Ma,” I say, preparing for her response. “So, you remember Cindy Washington, right?” Her whole face lights up.
“Ohhhh, Don’t tell me you and she are figuring each other out?” She laughs and claps her hands, clearly delighted about the whole thing. “Tell me all about it.”
I tell her all the stuff that’s fit for public consumption. About how Nate and I have been getting close. In fact the boy has given our dating the thumbs up. Mom enjoys every bit of it, shaking her head at the bits about her no good ex-husband.
The entire time I’m explaining thints to her, she has a big smile on her face. And then I realize that I’m smiling even more than her. When was the last time I felt this way? Too long. It’s been too long for me to not be thrilled to be with a woman, but then again, most women aren’t like Cindy.
“My my my,” says Ma. “You could write a book about her, huh?”
“I mean, not a book,” I say. “Maybe a bunch of short stories?”
She chuckles, and sips some of the water on the nearby end table. Ma’s only ever had a problem with the women I’ve been with after we broke up. Clearly all she wanted was for me to be happy, and her secret feelings didn’t matter. Hiding all kinds of stuff from me, she’d suddenly come out with, “She was too immature,” or “She wasn’t ready for a relationship”. And sometimes, if she was feeling bold, she’d blame me.
“You’re not ready for a relationship, Hank,” she’d say.
Maybe she was right back then. I was a young fool who didn’t know what the hell he wanted. But this time, it’s real. Whatever is happening with Cindy, it’s worth pursuing. How can I question feelings this powerful?
But I would hate for Ma to be right again. For her to be holding back her opinions about any lady I’m sharing my time with. It’s no good for anyone - not for her, not for my pride, and damn sure not for Cindy.
“What’s she doin’ tomorrow night?” she asks.
“I dunno,” I say. “Haven’t spoken to her since this morning.”
“Find out,” she says. “I can cook us some chicken fried steak and pecan pie for dinner.”
My eyes light up. Now we’re in business – it’s the perfect combination. Ma’s pecan pie can build bridges with anyone. And her chicken fried steak? Let’s just say that I come by my cooking honestly.
The idea’s appealing for two reasons. One, because, frankly, Ma’s cooking is better than mine. And two, because I finally get to introduce the woman I’m in love with to the woman who spent all her life raising me. It feels like a crossover of the two most important people in my life.
Did I just use the phrase “in love with”? Okay, now this feels real. I give Ma a hug goodbye, then dial Cindy up on my way to the car. I tell her that everything’s okay, then spring the dinner plans on her.
“Wait a second,” she says. I can see her look of worry from behind the phone. “Your Ma… what’s she like?”
“You’ve got nothin’ to worry about,” I reassure her. “As long as I’m happy, she won’t give you any trouble.”
“Then I guess I better keep you happy then,” she says. “When’s round three, handsome?”
“Twenty minutes,” I say. “If I’m this horny though, make it ten.”
“Game on,” she says. My imagination starts to run wild. With that, I’ve got the key in the ignition and I’m on my way back home for some wild n’ loose shenanigans.
Twenty
Cindy
I breeze into the kitchen, still feeling the
warmth of Hank's lips on mine. My mind wanders to the comfort of his arms wrapped around me, then to the electricity of his hands tracing their way down my spine... I shake my head to bring myself back to reality.
Extra napkins. Table 12 needs extra napkins. I almost collide with Ashley, her arms loaded with plates. She neatly sidesteps me, giving a small smirk as she does.
"Sorry Cindy! Almost killed you. You alright? You look like you're floating!" She laughs and tosses her hair, her eyes bright and perceptive.
"Sorry," I exhale, flustered. "I guess I left my head at home today."
"Uh-huh, well I'll keep my eyes out in case you come sailing through here again." She smiles and waltzes out to the crowded tables on the other side of the door. I take a moment to gather myself. There will be plenty of time to think about Hank and last night when I'm not handling the lunch rush. I grab the napkins and dive back out into the noise of full tables and happily chattering guests.
"Extra napkins for y'all!" I say, dropping a tall stack in front of a family with a young kid coated, chin to forehead, in barbecue sauce. His mother smiles and thanks me, and I turn to check on the line of folks waiting for tables by the door. My breath stops short in my chest as I see Andrew barrel through the door, push his way through the line, and stride right up to me. The whole time, his obnoxious cowboy boots strike the floor in a rhythm that spells trouble.
"Cindy," he growls, nostrils flared, "You can get sweet on as many housewife wannabe men as you want. That's your own bad decision. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let my boy be raised by a waitress and a pansy who cooks for a living."
"First of all, you're gonna lower your voice," I start, checking the eyes lifting up from their food. "Second of all, you walked right out on Nate and me, so you can back off on telling me how to raise him."