by A. J. Downey
It only took a few seconds and he was tearing open the next rubber and rolling it on.
“Your turn to fuck me,” he murmured against my mouth, and he twisted, lying down beside me. I straddled his hips and faced away from him; reverse cowgirl was always more taxing, more demanding, but I just wanted it. He gripped my ass in both his hands, squeezing it as I lifted his cock and situated it so I could slip it inside me.
“Oh, yeah.” His voice was like a caress, soft and breathy. “That’s so hot.”
“I’m glad,” I whispered, and rolled my hips, bracing my hands on the bed, between his calves.
“Take your time, Orchid. Make yourself feel good. It’s gonna be a while, I think, before I can get off again, and honestly, I don’t want to rush it this time.”
“Mm.” The noise I made may have been noncommittal, but I slowed way down, taking him slow, taking him deep, the angle so good, the heat of him sliding through my wetness so perfect.
I don’t think I ever remember being so turned on in my life which was, in its own way, kind of sad, but there wasn’t any room to be sad. Not today. Not with waking up in this gorgeous man’s bed, his hands on my body, his cock in my cunt, and all day ahead of us to fuck until we were both satisfied.
18
Stoker…
Somehow, I’d woken up with a tiger in my bed. She’d let this incredible wild woman out to play with me, out of nowhere, and I gotta say… I was in seventh heaven over it. There was nothing more erotic, more sensual, than watching her perfect ass rise and fall, the skin soft beneath my hands. Watching my cock disappearing into her hot, wet, little cunt. Her pussy lips gripping me as she tightened up around me, her silken flesh sheathing me so perfectly.
It was like I was the key to her lock, and I hoped like hell that carried over into unlocking her heart as well. I wanted so badly for her to let me in. I wanted to play in the secret gardens of her thoughts and memories. I wanted to be the man she needed, because she was damn sure the woman I wanted.
I know, I know, it’d only been a couple of weeks, but I finally got it now. What they meant when the guys talked about their women. When they said to me, ‘You just know.’
I gripped her hips and smoothed my thumbs over her lower back. She was so beautiful, so pure despite the taint she felt she carried because of her past. I don’t think she got that all of us, every damn one of us, had one. Almost all of us had something unsavory in those pasts, too.
I know I wasn’t a saint.
I came from a home as broken as the next guy. Mom hooking up behind my dad’s back. My dad drunk as fuck, until she finally died.
I’d been an angry kid. Angry as fuck. My dad didn’t know what to fuckin’ do with me, until, when I hit my teens, he’d given up on me too. My mom’s parents, the grandparents I’d gotten this house from, they were the only ones who seemed to want me. It was a refuge from my dad’s insults and fuckery, coming out here during the summer. I was all too glad to get the fuck out of Louisiana and move here permanently.
I tried dropping out of high school to do it, but my granddad wouldn’t hear of it.
I moved my ass here, and he put my ass right back into school. It was his only condition on my sticking around. School, and then trade school, like him, like my dad.
I had my own dark secrets to share, but I was a chicken-shit. I knew I’d feel a lot better opening up when I was sure my little orchid could open up to me, that she would understand, that she wouldn’t judge.
“Turn around,” I told her.
I wanted to gaze into those eyes of hers. I wanted to watch those perfect natural tits bounce. I wanted to fill my hands with her soft flesh and listen to her moan my name, watch the look of ecstasy cross her face, feel the ends of her long, lightly curled hair sweep across my chest.
I didn’t want to let her out of my sight, out of my bed. I wanted to keep her here all weekend and have both of us head into the workweek seven different kinds of sore from our exertions.
I wanted us to need a weekend to recover from our weekend.
She managed to turn around completely without my dick slipping free of her body, which was kind of amazing, a feat unto itself.
She gathered up her hair, holding it off of her neck, and rose up on her knees just slightly, and rolled her hips like a dancer.
Shit, that was hot. I smoothed my hands up her body and pinched her perfect peach nipples between my thumbs and the side of my hand, putting just a little tension on them. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, giving herself over to feeling and she looked like a goddess above me. Her chest heaved in slow, even, gasping breaths that ended in a soft, sultry little moan that curled my toes.
“That’s it, baby. Take your pleasure,” I encouraged, and it was a beautiful thing when she felt like she had permission to be herself. She let go and it was the only time I saw her be free, saw her smile without any lines of tension, saw that beautiful sparkle in her big brown eyes.
I wanted to capture that feeling in a jar for her, let her sip from it any time she started to backslide into being a nervous wreck over something some dipshit had to say, when it didn’t matter what any of those motherfuckers thought.
I let her perfect tits go and slid my hands down her body to her hips, my fingers digging lightly as I thrust up to meet her downward stroke.
“Ah!” Her mouth opened in a tiny ‘O’ of erotic surprise and I smiled up at her and did it again, ramping the energy between us back up, turning up the heat, taking the simmer we were at back to a rolling boil.
“Stoker!” she cried, and it held an edge of uncertainty as she collapsed over me, bringing her mouth to mine. I gripped her ass, held her up off of me just enough, and took over from beneath her.
She held onto me as I fucked her from below, our bodies slapping together, making my bedroom sound like we were in the midst of a porn studio – which could be hot in its own right– but I digress. My gaze was fixed on her beautiful face, pinched with that look she got when she was totally in the moment, drowning in the feels, and getting super close to her climax. Her eyes were unfocused, hooded with pleasure, as if she were both here and not-here at the same time. As if she listened to music only she could hear.
I murmured to her, whispered her pet name, whispered her name, told her she was beautiful, told her just how good she made me feel, and I think she desperately needed to hear those things, not just from me, but from any human being, because her eyes misted and when she closed them, there were tears gathered on her dark lashes like crystalline stars in the deep night sky.
I held her to me, whispered soothingly, and let the emotion crash over her, swirl through her, and drag just a little bit of the negative bullshit she carried out into the ether. She didn’t crash, she didn’t sob, she didn’t break down on me or weep to a point the sex was ruined – in fact – she gasped into my shoulder, “Please don’t slow down. Please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” I whispered and kissed the side of her head, renewing my cadence, picking up the rhythm of our bodies coming together.
When she came this time, it was a lighter, gentler orgasm. Her breath fell from her lips in a satisfied sigh, washing over my shoulder and chest as she pushed herself up to kiss me. I kissed her back, and I wasn’t even close to mad or upset I didn’t get my own. I was so wrung out from my first orgasm that I may have been hard, but I wasn’t ready to come again. Not anytime soon, anyway.
I held her tight to my body, her breath washing over the side of my neck as she tried to catch it.
“You okay?” I asked after a bit.
“Oh, my God, yeah,” she got out between her pants.
“Good,” I said. “Kiss me.”
She pushed up once more on shaky arms trembling with exertion and kissed me sweetly. I smiled against her mouth and murmured against her lips, “You are too perfect.”
She laughed nervously and I smoothed some hair out of her face and locked eyes with her.
“Yo
u are. No arguments. I get you aren’t used to compliments, but you’d better get used to hearing them from me… you’re perfect, Orchid. You’re my kind of perfect, no matter how deeply flawed you think you are.”
She bit her bottom lip but it was too late, I’d already seen it tremble. I smiled at her and let her fling herself down onto me, let her wrap her arms around my neck and bury her face in the side of it. Let her laugh, let her cry, and let her feel all her feelings. I gave her the space to just be her and it felt good. It was like I felt and watched her grow in that moment, and the genuine happiness on her face and in her eyes made me feel ten times over like a real man.
“Breakfast?” I asked her after a bit more kissing.
“That sounds wonderful,” she murmured. “I’m starving.”
“I can make pancakes.”
“Ohhhh, that sounds so good!”
“Pancakes it is, then.”
I gave her a slap on the ass and she yipped in surprise before laughing.
I loved that sound.
I loved the way she smiled, and the light in her eyes; I loved the way she swept her hair over her shoulder, her lips swollen with my kiss, exuding that glow. She wore the freshly-fucked look like a crown and she was definitely my queen. She just didn’t know it yet, and I didn’t want to swear fealty here and now and freak her the fuck out. It could wait. Patience. All good things come to those who wait…
“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” she asked, slipping back into her panties, sitting on the side of my bed.
I pulled on a tee with the sleeves cut out, leaving gaping holes from shoulder to hip. I was still feeling overheated, so it worked for me.
“Just how much I like you,” I said, which wasn’t far off the truth.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What else?” she asked, and I smiled.
“How much I’m looking forward to tonight.”
She nodded and some of the shiny came off. We were supposed to hang with my club, either at the beach or The Plank, depending on the weather.
“Nervous?” I asked.
“And a little embarrassed,” she confessed.
“About last weekend?” I asked. She nodded silently. “Don’t be.” I shook my head and pulled on a pair of jeans while she slipped back into the same skirt she’d arrived in last night.
“Ugh, I totally freaked out in front of everybody.” She pressed her fingertips deep into her eye sockets, over her closed eyelids, the rest of her hands covering her face as she flamed bright red.
“Listen,” I said, going around the bed and pulling her arms down, putting them around my waist. I flipped her hair over her shoulders to trail down her back, smoothing my thumbs over her jaw on either side as she looked up at me. “All of us have some kind of a fucked-up background or history. Some of us worse than others. It’s not about that with these guys and gals, though. It’s about finding common ground among your chosen brothers and sisters, and the understanding that who we are now is what matters. We all got a past, Orchid. You, me, the next guy down the line… history is in our rearview, baby. Whole road is open in front of us. Question is, what do you want to do?”
“Eat pancakes,” she answered finally, and I threw back my head and laughed.
“A good starting point,” I agreed, and ushered her in the direction of my bedroom door. She went into the bathroom and I went into the kitchen to get breakfast started.
19
Serenity…
For someone professing he wasn’t much of a cook, he certainly knew how to do pancakes real well. Fluffy, flavorful, and an absolute delight, I wanted to know his secret. He wouldn’t tell me, though.
“I tell you somethin’, Orchid. I’ll use whatever I’ve got to keep you coming back for more, so no-can-tell yah.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I swore I caught a glimpse of my own brain matter.
“You don’t have to hold a recipe hostage to get me coming back. I love the time I get to spend with you,” I told him frankly.
“See, that’s just one of the things I love about you,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re honest. As real as they get.”
“People usually just bitch at me that I’m blunt or that I’m rude.”
“Honesty has a way of making some folks real uncomfortable,” he replied.
“So how come it doesn’t bother you?” I asked.
“Suppose it’s because I ain’t got nothin’ to hide to begin with. Also, the fact I have no fucks to give what anyone but my people have to think about me.”
I dropped my eyes to my plate, my fork still and all but forgotten in my hand as I turned his words over and over like a shiny penny in my mind.
“You care what I think,” I cautiously whispered, half-expecting him to laugh at me for being so bold as to suggest such a crazy thing.
He smiled at me, that charming smile of his, and cut a bite of pancake.
“Guess that makes you one of my people,” he said.
“I really like the sound of that,” I said with a smile, and his grew bigger.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You may have just made my day.” He winked along with those words and it warmed me down to my toes.
We finished breakfast and showered together, dressing casually for the day, to ride. The weather looked a little suspect to me. Overcast and muggy, threatening rain, with thunderstorms possible later in the day.
I had no idea where we were going. Stoker wouldn’t tell me, but I didn’t care. It was enough that we were together and I delighted in the rushing pavement and the hot wind as we skimmed over the sizzling pavement.
He pulled into a lot not more than an hour away, full of greenhouses, a nursery that had me perking up behind him. It was a place I had never been yet always had wanted to go: Sunfire Orchids.
“You’re sure?” I asked him when he cut the engine.
“Absolutely.”
“Are you really sure?” I asked with mounting excitement. “We could be here for hours.”
“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have brought you, Orchid,” he said, laughing.
I squealed and threw my arms around him, squeezing him with enthusiasm. He laughed and patted my knee and I got off the back of his motorcycle. He got up and leaned it onto its parking stand, holding out his hand to me. I took it, and we went into the first greenhouse, which was acclimatized and held the checkout stand and some friendly employees who welcomed us in.
He let me spend hours poring over everything they had to offer, and I was so excited. I had to look at everything twice and some things a third time before I made any selections, and, me being me, I had to then decide what I really wanted above all else with the meager amount of money I had in my pocket to spare for such luxuries such as indulging in my hobby. I didn’t have much, and as much as I would have loved to buy another new-to-me variety of orchid to raise, I just couldn’t afford that at all. So, I settled on a ten-dollar small tub of orchid fertilizer.
“Gonna hit the john before we leave,” Stoker told me, pressing his lips to my temple. “Wait for me out at the bike?”
“Sure,” I said with a slight laugh. I couldn’t believe he even had to ask. I mean, we had just spent close to three hours looking at everything and he had to be bored to death, but he hadn’t complained once, tried to rush me, or made the slightest indication that he was over it already and ready to do something else.
I was grateful, and so I took my prize and sat against the saddle of his bike and read the container, waiting for him to come out. I also had taken some pamphlets on the orchid varieties they offered, both here, physically at the nursery, and through online ordering. I was just beginning to wonder what was taking Stoker so long when I looked up to see him coming out the door, a four-inch pot with a Dendrobium Enobi, or Purple ‘Splash’ orchid in his hands. It was a beautiful flower, the white burst from its center splashing out against the purple edges.
&n
bsp; “Oh, my god! What did you do?” I asked, open-mouthed.
“Bought my woman some flowers. I hear chicks dig it when they get flowers,” he said, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“How are we going to get it back to your place?” I asked. “The wind…”
“It’s small enough it’ll fit in one of the saddlebags,” he said.
“Really?” I asked, taking the pot from his hands and smiling appreciatively as my gaze wandered over the line of buds arching out into delicate blooms.
“Pretty sure. Gonna need to move some things around, maybe tuck a towel around it to keep it upright, but should be okay for the hour or so until we get there.”
He didn’t waste any time, insisting I just stand by and enjoy my new pretty while he shifted things around in his hard-sided saddle bags to make a nest for it. He carefully tucked both the orchid and the plant food I’d bought inside and equally carefully closed it up.
I went to him and hugged him, kissing him soundly and murmuring, “Thank you,” against his lips.
“Do anything to make you smile like that more often,” he murmured.
I felt myself blush.
“I don’t deserve you,” I mumbled, and he smiled down at me.
“Disagree,” he said softly. “I’m just sorry we didn’t meet each other much sooner, but everything happens for a reason, in its own time, right?”
“Right,” I whispered.
He kissed me one more time before sighing and saying, “Let’s get this show on the road.”
I laughed softly, and we headed back to Ft. Royal.
Stoker wanted to take me to lunch, but I felt guilty with the idea of him spending so much money on me so I tried to reason with him and have him take us to the grocery store so I could cook, instead. It was, perhaps, on par with eating out expense-wise, but cooking for him would make me feel better, in that if I couldn’t contribute financially, I could at least still contribute to the meal somehow.
He wouldn’t hear of it, declaring that this weekend I was his to spoil, and the sentiment behind his words caused the stricture of guilt to ease from around my heart. He asked me to change into something cooler, answering his phone as I headed back into his bedroom. I slipped into a short white fluttery skirt along with the white corset top I’d worn earlier in the week. I loved this top; paired with a skirt or a pair of jeans, it was so versatile. To complete the new look, I slipped my feet into a pair of sandals before I stepped back out into the living room, where he was still on the phone.