Authors: Lindsay Blanc
Chapter 2
“How long did you stick around after we left, Lauren? You looked super mopey. I was worried about you.”
Meredith and I had the same planning period, which we spent in the teacher’s lounge, surrounded by piles of unclaimed copies and soiled coffee cups.
“I stayed until close, more or less.”
“Really? That was hours? Were you just sitting there with your face in the pretzels that whole time? You should have brought a book or something, you sad-sack.”
Meredith was probably my closest friend of the bunch, but she had a funny way of expressing affection.
“Actually . . .” I wasn’t sure if I should share the details of my time with Mike. It didn’t want to jinx it, and I didn’t want to make a big deal of nothing. “I spent that time talking with someone.”
“Someone, huh? Wait, you mean with a guy? What! That’s great, Lauren. Who is he? Tell me everything! Did you fuck him?”
I jumped to close the door. Kids were filing in and out of classrooms in the hallway, and Meredith had no censor when she was in the lounge, even when little one’s were within earshot. “No! No. We just talked. We talked for a really long time. It was nice.”
“Well? Who is he? Out with it.”
“He’s one of the guys who frequent that place. I’ve seen him there before. His name’s Mike. Oh, but his friends call him Ox! Can you believe it?” I was unable to hide my enthusiasm. Meredith, on the other hand, had turned pale.
“Mike? Ox? Is he the huge guy with the tattoos?”
“That’s him! He’s so handsome!” I’m sure I looked like a preteen girl discussing her favorite boy band member.
“That’s true. But Lauren. Listen. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but you can’t see that guy anymore.”
“What? Why?”
“That guy is dangerous. Those bikers aren’t hobbyists. They’re a gang, and he is, like, the leader. I thought you would know that. He’s pretty much a local celebrity. Don’t you remember when he was on the news a couple years ago?”
It was my turn to go pale. I felt the blood rush from my face into my stomach, which grew hot and nauseated. “That must be someone else.” I said, knowing that I was wrong.
“Look, this guy right?” She turned her laptop around, showing me a mug-shot of Mike. He was younger looking, even though the picture was taken only two years ago.
“What was he arrested for?” I asked, knowing I didn’t want to hear the answer.
“Let’s see . . .” She was reading over what must have been a pretty impressive rap sheet. The longer she took, the deeper my stomach sank and the higher my heart moved into my throat.
“You ready?” she asked. I nodded. “OK. Robbery. Breaking and entering. Carrying an unlicensed firearm. Possession with intent to distribute. Indecent exposure. Assault with a deadly weapon. Grand-theft auto. Resisting arrest. Attempted murder. And . . . failure to yield to a stop sign. That’s the most recent one.”
My head began to ache. It felt big and heavy. “When did all this happen?”
“It looks like this was all years ago. Except for the stop sign thing. I guess he spent time in jail.”
“I’m sure he did.” I couldn’t believe that this was real. It seemed like such a cosmic joke that, when I finally connected with a guy, he would be a criminal. Maybe my friends were right. Maybe my good behavior meant I had too much negativity stored up. Maybe Mike was a way for me to come face to face with all of the trouble and anger I’d avoided throughout my life. Or maybe not. Maybe he was a handsome man who was genuinely kind to me and listened to me in a way that no one had before.
During some gap in my speculating, I remembered something. “He started acting really strange when I mentioned where I work. We were really hitting it off, but then he got super cold.”
“That’s right!” Meredith said, slapping herself on the forehead. “His daughter is in your class. Maggie, I think. Something like that. Anyway, he can’t come near her. You can look it up in her file. He can’t even come to the school. The kid’s mom has a restraining order against Mike, and he lost custody when he went to jail. The whole thing is a mess.”
It felt like
I
was the mess, like I was gradually crumbling and melting all at once, like some awful putty person, all wobbly and spineless.
Meredith was still talking. “I mean, obviously, you can’t see this guy again. Thank goodness I was here to save you, right?”
“Right,” I said, not sure if I truly agreed. Meredith, Sarah, and Rachel gave me so much shit for being too well-behaved, and Meredith was always the harshest. And here I was, finally stepping out of my comfort zone a bit, and they wanted me to put my angel wings on again.
Over the course of the day, while watching the kids finger-paint and while helping them tie their shoes, I had time to think about what it was that I really wanted. I watched my kids, the spectrum of abilities and behaviors. I found myself connecting more with the kids who pushed the boundaries, who demanded explanations, or pushed back, when I told them what to do. While the perfect angels in class matched my outward behavior, something inside me admired these natural rebels.
Obviously, I didn’t want to be in a dangerous situation, but part of me wanted to at least get a taste of recklessness. I was already feeling enticed by Mike’s lifestyle—it was so different from anything I’d experienced—and having Meredith essentially forbid me from seeing him, made it all the more appealing to see him again. I was tired of playing by the rules, tired of doing as I was told, and tired of being well-behaved.
I gave Mike a call as soon as I got home.
Chapter 3
“Is Mike available?” My voice sounded so nervous. I really did wear my heart on my sleeve.
“This is Mike.” God. His voice made me quiver. I felt warm when he spoke, like I could just bathe in his words.
“Oh hi . . .um . . .this is Lauren. I don’t know if you remember me, but—“
“Hi Lauren! I’m so glad you called. And I’m glad you didn’t follow the three-day rule. I hate to say it, but I was going a little crazy wondering if I’d hear from you.” He sounded so vibrant, and too friendly to have done all the things he was accused of.
“I was worried that you didn’t want to hear from me. I thought I’d said something to scare you off. You left so suddenly.”
“Yeah,” he seemed a little more pensive, looking at his hands and rubbing his knuckles. “I’m sorry for that. Something you said kind of threw me for a loop.”
“About the school I teach at? The school your daughter attends?” I was impressed at myself for being so bold, but something about him still made me feel brave.
The line was silent for a bit. I tried to hear his breathing. Finally, he spoke. “You’ve been doing some research, huh?”
“You could say that.” I didn’t mean to play games, but I was curious to see how he’d respond.
“Listen,” he said, with anxiety in his voice. “That was the old me. I’ve changed a lot since that time in my—“
“I don’t care.” I cut him off. “I’m tired of being the goody-goody. I’m tired of being the innocent one of my friends, of being pitied for my lack of life experience. I want to step out of my comfort zone, out of bounds. Anyway, I like you. I
really
like you. You make me feel brave, and I think you would be the perfect person to show me how to take some risks. I trust you.”
Again, I had to wait for his response, hearing either his breath or the sound of the blood rushing through my ears.
“That sounds so great,” he said at last, with some emotion held back in his voice. “I think you’re the right person to help me keep my life together now. I need someone to care for, someone who can be an anchor if things get crazy for me. It probably sounds fast, but I’m willing to bet you’d be a great anchor for me. When can I see you again?”
“How about now?” I said. “I can come over now.” I tried not to sound too eager, and I wasn’t sure if he could tell how big my smile was.
“I would love that.” He wasn’t as good at hiding his gladness.
He gave me the address, and I showered and changed into my most attractive outfit.
Chapter 4
Mike’s apartment building wasn’t fancy, but I wasn’t interested in him for his wealth. Money didn’t matter to me now. I needed to try something new.
When Mike invited me in, I was struck by his handsomeness. The bar had been dark, and needless to say, the mug-shot didn’t do him justice. His jaw was strong, with a couple days’ worth of stubble gracing his cheeks and muscular neck.
I was reminded that they called him Ox, and suddenly found it fitting. His shoulders were broad, and I believe that I could probably pull a large truck from the mud simply by tying a rope around the bumper and tugging.
I found myself getting lost in his granite-colored eyes, which showed the wear of too much experience in too little time. They showed sadness that he couldn’t share. They showed a little boy deep inside the powerful body of a man. I longed to help him release his emotional burdens, or at least to help him carry them.
“You look great,” he said, seeming to have been lost in my gaze too. “Your eyes are amazing. Their so full of kindness. I can tell that you’re a good teacher.”
I’d never had anyone comment on my eyes before. I couldn’t say what my best feature was, but I would never consider those in the running. Without taking the time to rethink it, I put my arms around him and pulled myself into him. I buried my face in his chest. He smelled manly, like some mix of musk, engine oil, and bay rum.
It’s hard to articulate how that feeling, that smell, affected me. The closest I can get to describing it is: it was like when your mouth waters, but with my whole body. Coming over was not like me, not overly-cautious, and I liked that I was already taking risks.
I took another and gripped the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head. His muscles were so defined, like those I’d seen on magazine covers for fitness magazines.
I’d always thought those kind of muscles didn’t appeal to me, that they made a man too hard and bumpy, but there was still the softness to Mike. Just as there was a gentleness and vulnerability hidden behind his stony gaze, there was a pliable, giving quality to his sculpted torso, which I explored by running my fingers, still cold from the outside air, through the curls of his chest hair.
He was being cautious, keeping his hands at his sides but fawning at me. It seemed like such a reversal, with him being the recipient of my advances. His caution must have come from his dedication to living a better life, to avoiding destructive decisions.
But this was a good decision, and I wanted him to be an agent in our consummation. I moved his hands under my shirt and placed them against my soft belly. His hands were so large that, when extended, they reached nearly from my belt to my breasts. And they were warm on my still-cold skin, so that the hair on my back prickled up at his touch.
I pulled off my shirt and bra, freeing my petite breasts. Instead of putting his hands over them, as I’d hoped he’d do, he pulled me to him and on to the couch, where I lay upon him as he reclined. I felt my skin thaw, the cold of the outside dissipating against the warmth of his chest and stomach. It felt as though I were melting into his embrace, and I could not ignore the growing bulge below his waist-band.
I could feel his manhood fill his pant leg as it extended along my side. Gentle as he was being, I could tell that I would have to initiate more. I undid my belt and moved his hand into the back of my pants so he could grip my ass, which he did enthusiastically. His excitement became more obvious as his crotch made obvious jumps, nodding in agreement as I undid his belt and slid my hand into his boxers.
He gasped as I kissed his chest, my hand making its way to his pulsing cock. I gripped his shaft as well as I could, though its girth inhibited me from completely wrapping my fingers around it. Seeming to have accepted that this was something I wanted without reservation, he finished the job of pulling his pants and boxers off, and then removed my pants and underwear.
I drove my hips into his, enjoying the sensations of his impressive dick’s pressing against my pubic cleft and spreading its heat up my belly. He gripped my ass cheeks, and I sucked his nipple into my mouth as I grinded my clit against the base of his cock.
I slid my slit along his length, leaving both of us slick with anticipation. I kissed the scars along his chest and face before kissing him deeply on the lips.
We both breathed heavy through our noses. We kissed with the feeling of having finally found something we didn’t know we’d been looking for.
Without breaking our lips’ seal, he pressed his thick cock against the mouth of my pussy, which, though wet with desire, needed time to fully accept his size. Once he finally slid into me, we both remained still, enjoying the full-body pleasure of filling and being filled.
We kissed, sucking and nibbling each other’s lips, drunk with the physical joy of our union. When we began the locomotion of love-making, with my rocking my hips over his, the sensation of the shapely head of his cock sliding along the length of my pussy’s interior sent shivers down my legs. I felt senseless to speak, but managed to move my lips from his to utter, “This is . . . so . . . g-good.”
I nearly drooled on him, so captivated was I by the feelings in my pelvis.
“Yes!” he replied. “It’s . . . huh . . . amazing. You’re . . . amazing!” He squeezed my asscheeks, spreading them to slide one eager finger against my asshole to punctuate his enthusiasm.
I continued straddling him as he sat up with his back against the couch. I took my time sliding up and down his shaft, enjoying the tug his thickness inspired every time I rose, as well as the tasty resistance in my pussy as I lowered myself back down.
He supported me with his sturdy, able arms, tugging on my hair and cradling my neck as he kissed my chest and nipples.
We took our time, basking in each other’s body. He—as he later told me—was taken by how emotional love-making could be, having mostly been around women who were interested in the thrill and not a love-connection.
I, on the other hand, was relishing not only my growing affection for him, but this new naughtiness, this amazing sex with a stunning man I had only met recently.
In my household, this behavior was considered reckless, wild, an activity for loose women, and I liked exploring my new identity as a boundary-pushing, ne’er-do-well of a woman, especially since I was with someone who made me feel safe, who made me feel strong and confident.
We kissed again, breathing heavily as the contracting muscles in our hips synchronized. It felt as though my pussy, tightening rhythmically, was milking his fat cock, whose pulse was growing more obvious, so that each organ created extra resistance for the other with each breath, with each heartbeat.
With my legs wrapped around his powerful back, I rode him to a crescendo, his thighs moving me up and down. The climax began in my pussy and ass. I felt like chocolate melting as the waves of pleasure radiated out to my feet, hands, and head.
My nerves were all alive and firing as we clutched each other closely, prolonging the ecstasy for just one last thrust, and just one more, before the explosion rocked our bodies.
We grabbed each other tight so we wouldn’t be thrown from the couch by the involuntary shaking in our legs and abdomens. He just pressed his face into my neck, and I into his, as we rode out the remaining waves of pleasure, convulsing into one another.
I felt, between the pulsations of my pussy, the throbbing in Mike’s engorged penis, slick and warm with both of our juices. I felt full of love, and full of him, and we both smiled weakly as we looked into one another’s eyes, our gaze saying more than words could.