Authors: Christina Ross
For
dinner, it was lobster rolls and fries.
We drove into town and I bought us two rolls each at a local restaurant
before Alex had time to pull out his wallet.
Then, we brought them back in large
Styrofoam containers to the house.
When
Alex opened the refrigerator, I noticed that someone had stocked it to the
nines.
He did a little searching
and then removed a bottle of champagne.
I recognized it on sight from my time at db Bistro.
The bright orange label gave it away.
Veuve Clicquot.
Stephen gave me a taste of it once.
I told him I was only used to the
cheapest of champagnes.
“Cheap
is what I can afford,” I said.
“You’ll
work harder after sipping this,” Stephen had replied.
As
usual, Stephen was right.
The
champagne was bright and intoxicating.
“We’re
really roughing it now,” I said to Alex.
“Indeed,
we are.”
He
popped open the bottle, found two antique champagne glasses in one of the
cupboards, and poured.
From the
bottom of the glass’ hollow stem, bubbles swirled to the top and popped.
“To
Maine,” he said, holding up his glass.
“To
Maine,” I agreed.
“And to
lobster.
Look how fat these rolls
are.
I’m salivating.
If she knew what I was eating, Blackwell
would have my ass.”
“She’d
like to have your ass.”
“Just
her?”
“I
think you know better.”
We
touched glasses, sipped, and dug in.
“It’s
so sweet,” I said.
“And
not too much mayo.”
“That’s
how it should be done.
Just a touch
of mayo.
People often ruin it by
smothering it in mayonnaise.”
“Only
a few places in New York get it right.”
“Do
they
really
get it right?”
“A
couple of places do.
And they serve
Maine lobster.
The real deal.”
“We
are so going there.”
He
smiled at me and handed me a napkin.
“I’m
a mess, aren’t I?”
“You’ve
got a bit of mayo on your chin, but I wouldn’t call it ruined.”
I
wiped it off.
“I’d say forgive me,
but I’d be lying.
I’m enjoying this
too much.
What a treat.”
“Do
you remember the first time you had lobster?”
“Not
at all.
I was lucky—we always
had lobster when I was growing up.
My Uncle Vaughn was a lobsterman, so we had it whenever we wanted it.
My earlier years were a blur of
lobster.
It was ironic.
We were dirt poor, but because of Uncle
Vaughn, we ate like kings.
Sometimes, when my uncle knew I needed to get away from his monster of a
brother, he’d take me out on his boat with him.
You should have seen the sheer amount of
sea gulls that boat attracted.
It
was crazy.”
“And
probably unsanitary.”
“You
are correct.
But it wasn’t too
bad.
They mostly hung back.
But there were hundreds of them.
I miss those days.
You would have liked my uncle.
I wish he had been my father.”
*
*
*
Later,
after we’d cleaned up, we took the rest of the champagne into the living
room.
Alex placed it in a bucket
filled with ice, and we watched the sun set over Cadillac Mountain.
“I
love the Manhattan skyline, but nothing beats this,” Alex said.
“It’s
peaceful.
Look at the cars
traveling up the mountain.
Can you
see their headlights?”
“I
can.”
He
topped off our champagne glasses, put the bottle back in its bucket, and then
lifted his arm so I could move closer to him and rest my head against his
chest.
We
stayed like that for several hours, and long before the sun finally dipped from
sight, I knew what was coming soon for each of us.
And I dreaded it.
What was coming was sleep—in
separate bedrooms.
Something I
didn’t want at all.
Today
had been a mix of fun and truth telling, but nothing especially romantic,
though lying next to him now was nice.
Still, nothing had happened between us that suggested we might end up in
bed together.
I wasn’t seeking
sex—though I wouldn’t say no to it now because I was more than ready to
be with him.
I was seeking
intimacy.
We didn’t come here to
sleep apart.
At least, I
didn’t.
I came here to be with him
in every way possible, which included sleep.
I knew that when we returned to New
York, the sort of paradise we were enjoying now would come to an abrupt
end.
While I could, I wanted to
capitalize on all of our time together.
“What
do you have planned for tomorrow?” I asked.
“More
of this.
Maybe the next day we’ll
go into town, shop, and have dinner somewhere.
Maybe at a nice restaurant.
Maybe not.
A diner would do me just fine.”
“Me,
too.
Sounds perfect.”
“We
should get some sleep,” he said.
Reluctantly,
I lifted myself off him, stood and stretched.
I could feel his eyes on me, and I could
sense that he also didn’t want to separate.
I thought about what I was going to say
to him, and it was ridiculous.
See
you in the morning, Alex?
Please.
I decided to go there.
“Would you like to sleep with me
tonight?”
“As
in share a bed with you?”
“Yes.”
“Are
you sure about that?”
“I
wouldn’t have asked otherwise.
I
don’t want to be apart from you tonight.
Or at all while we’re here, actually.
I’d be lonely in that massive bed, and
I’d just be thinking of you in the other room anyway.”
“So
would I.”
“So
let’s get rid of that frustration.
Ready for bed?”
*
*
*
In
the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted with anticipation.
“What
side do you like to sleep on?” he asked.
“The
right.”
He
smiled.
“And there you have
it.
I prefer the left.”
We
each pulled down our corner of the bed, and then Alex cleared his throat.
“I don’t really know how to say this,”
he said.
“Say
what?”
“This
is awkward.”
“Nothing
should be awkward between us as this point.”
“I
generally sleep in the nude.”
I
felt a rush at the thought of that, but bit down hard on it.
The idea of seeing him naked thrilled
me.
“Who’s stopping you?”
“Are
you sure about this?”
“I
want you to be comfortable and sleep well.”
Even I heard my voice break when I
spoke.
Holy shit, I’m going to
see him naked.
“You
sound a little unsure about that.”
Who
knows what came over me—probably years of holding back fueled by the
urgency to go forward—but for whatever reason, I pulled my tank top over
my head.
I tossed it onto a chair
across from me, unfastened my bra, tossed it on to the chair, and then I took
off the rest of my clothes, leaving on only my panties.
There was only so far I could go the
first time out, but to get to this point felt liberating.
I stood in front of him and saw him
eyeing my full breasts with clear lust and desire stamped on his face.
His gaze traveled down the length of my
body, which he’d never seen so exposed, and then came back to my breasts before
meeting my eyes.
“You’re
beautiful,” he said in a low voice.
I
smiled with a sense of trepidation and anticipation as I waited for him to do
the same.
It didn’t take him long
to get the hint, but I wondered how far he’d take it.
Just to his boxers?
Or would he go all the way?
He
tugged his shirt over his head and left it on the floor.
Off came his jeans, also left on the
floor.
He hesitated for a moment, a
silence stretched between us, but then he went for it and stepped out of his
boxers.
He flung them aside and
stood before me, naked.
Just
as he had appraised my breasts, I took in every inch of him, and finally saw
what I knew was going to be a challenge.
He was indeed large.
And
thick.
It seemed perfectly
proportioned, just like the rest of him.
And
then, as I looked at it, it started to stiffen.
Before
I could get a better look, I got into bed, and he followed in after me.
The sheets were cool and soft.
The mattress was firm and
comfortable.
I asked him to turn
onto his side, and I pressed my nearly naked body against his back so he wasn’t
pressed against mine.
If he was, I
knew I wouldn’t be able to take it.
I slung my arm low over his waist and gently stroked his stomach while I
kissed his shoulder.
It wasn’t long
before the head of his penis nudged against my hand and then stretched beyond
it.
At that moment, I could almost
feel the energy surging between us because he obviously knew what was brushing
against the back of my hand.
When I
couldn’t stand it any longer, I reached for it on impulse and, when I did so,
felt my whole body turn into a silo of heat.
It felt huge in my hand, as thick as a
wrist, and I could feel it throbbing.
The fact that I was doing this was a massive turn-on—a territory
unexplored.
I stroked it gently and
could feel myself growing wet almost immediately.
“Jennifer,”
he said.
“Yes,
Alex?”
“If
you keep doing that....”
“I’m
not about to stop now.”
“Fine,
then.”
With
a swiftness that surprised me, he swung around on the bed, flung the bedding
off each of us, and straddled me with his hands pinning mine firmly against the
mattress.
His
cock lay heavily on my stomach.
I
gasped at the sudden change of position, but then, in the moonlight, I saw the
look of longing on his face, and felt the urgency in his touch when he removed
my panties in one quick motion.
“I
hope you’re not tired,” he said, “because you’re going to be up for hours.”
“Alex—”
“I
told you your first time would be special.
I meant that.
But you’re
going to need stamina for that.
You’re first time is going to be something you’ll remember favorably for
the rest of your life.
I’m going to
make certain of that.
You’ll
see.”
He
kissed me gently on the mouth, and then harder until I could barely
breathe.
I felt the stubble on his
chin again.
It was rough against my
cheek and then against my neck as he probed lower.
His tongue tasted me, and his lips
covered me.
Low murmuring sounds
came from his throat until he found one of my nipples and attended to it with
his mouth.