Authors: Maya James
He
glistens in the lights like a polished statue to the King of Orgasms and
finally my nails can dig across his flesh. It feels so good to finally have my
hands on his sumptuous body; I squeeze into his huge chest, digging my nails in
and making long red lines to prove I'd been there. Now that he's thrusting his
hips in and out of me, I can't resist grabbing his ass and clamping down into
its firmness while I drag him into me harder. I help him fuck me harder.
My clit
throbs delightfully every time it's crushed onto the root of his manhood and
pinched between our bodies. It’s building a need for yet another release. I
slide one of my own hands down between our bodies to my clit and rub a finger
on it vigorously.
Playing
with myself excites him. I can see the wild blaze behind his eyes.
"Christ!
You're so fucking hot!" he grumbles as he watches. He balances himself on
one arm and uses the other to play with my nipple. It sends twinges that seem
to connect to my chest to my pussy.
I bring
myself nearly to orgasm quickly. Between my sensitive clitoris and his
wonderful hardness thrusting in and out of me, I'm only moments from release.
Determined
to satisfy me himself, Justin moves my hand away and replaces it with his own.
There's no teasing this time, no torture. He brings me to the edge and lets me
spill over in a satisfying mess of thrusting hips and gratified moans.
Once my
clitoris has deflated, he manages to pull his hand from between us. I know his
climax is here as well, his eyes tell me all I need to know, and so I hooked my
heels around his powerful thighs, forcing him against me. Our oiled bodies
glide on each other, and I feel every rippling muscle seize as he is taken, as his
entire body goes into orgasm.
He
cries out in ecstasy. There are no coherent words, just sounds alone that
profess his emotions and profound desire. He remains hovered above me,
quivering and flexing, until he doesn't even have the strength left to hold
himself up. His chest heaves air in and out in huge, exhausted bursts even
after he rolls off to my side.
I feel
complete now, content to go to bed beside my lover. We are wrapped together in
a cocoon of each other. I'm emotionally safe behind a shield of his protective
closeness.
I'm not
convinced that I deserve him, but I'm grateful to have such a wonderful man.
"I
CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE
doing this stuff, Charity. I only have to sit here, and I'm a complete, nervous
wreck," Melissa says quietly while I laugh at her.
Six
months ago I was exactly like her.
"You're
going to do fine—just relax." I meant that, so it was easy to say.
These
meetings, these things I've asked Melissa to help me with, they're not
completely dangerous to her. I need her to relax so that no one has second
thoughts. Maybe they're not even dangerous to me, but I'm risking my love with
Justin, and that's more than I can bear to lose.
"You're
just having a drink with your friend, and some polite conversation with a guy.
He's not dangerous."
I
hope!
"How
will he know it's us?" she asks.
"He
won't. Not for sure," I tell her. "He knows I'll be with a friend, so
he might assume we're the ones as soon as he sees us sitting here. But I've
seen his picture, I'll know exactly who he is."
She
accepts that with a nod of understanding.
We are
sitting at the bar at the Manhattan grill. Melissa is leaned forward in a
nervous posture, both of her elbows are on the bar top and her hands are
wrapped together around a wine glass. I'm sitting on her right side watching
the entire place in the mirror behind the bar so that it looks like I'm not
interested in anything around me.
The
only place I can't really see in the mirror is the back few tables and the
hallway to the bathrooms. I had already checked out who was back there before
we sat down. The hallway still bothers me; whenever I look there, down its
dimly lit mouth, I remember the pressure it took to squeeze my throat closed. A
simple glance in that direction brings back the feeling of my feet sliding
backwards along the floor.
Maybe
it's just worse right now because I'm sitting next to Melissa, my best friend,
and I can't tell her what happened.
The
"Four Guys" aren't here yet. It was a little early for them, but they
should be coming through the door any minute now. I'm hoping one of them
catches Melissa's eye—if not the bartender.
"Your
friend, Trisha, she works here?" Melissa asks desperate to have something
else to think about.
"She's
a waitress here, their best if you ask me," I answer with a smile.
"Tonight's her night off; she's just hanging with us when she gets
here."
I feel
the excitement right in the pit of my stomach. "Oh my God—I can't wait for
the two of you to meet! That girl is fucking nuts."
There's
a man near the front of the restaurant that has been watching us. I've caught
him in the mirror several times now glancing at us sideways. It's not the man
I'm meeting, and that's all I know about him.
I'll
keep my eyes on him.
"I'm
excited to meet her," Melissa replies, an interesting smile touching her
lips while my foot taps absently to "I Love It" by Icona Pop coming
out lightly from the speakers above us. "Maybe the two of you can help me.
To be honest, if I don't get laid while I'm here, I might go crazy."
There
is no recovery from the loud snort I belch out laughing at her. "Holy
shit, Mel! You have to warn me before you say something like that."
She's proud
of herself for making me laugh that hard. "I'm serious; it's been way, way
too long. I don't want it getting dusty."
Seriously,
I'm going to piss my pants!
"Well,
you've come to the right girls for help," I manage to choke out between
gasps of laughter. "Have you ever just hooked up with a guy, no strings,
just one night?"
"Well—no—but,
dammit, it's time I grew up. You went and got a life. I just want the same
thing."
"Fair
enough," I tell her.
The front
door opens. I give it no reaction whatsoever, but Melissa jerks her head in
that direction the way most anyone would. Me, I simply raise my glass and take
a sip while my eyes eventually make their way to the mirror; the Four Guys are
finally here. I turn to them and wave and each one of them says hello.
"Who
are they?" Melissa asks, a strong interest in her voice.
"Just
a few guys that always come in, regulars like me and Justin. Why, which one do
you like?" I tease.
"I
have to pick one?" she snickers. She tossed her brown hair as easily as
the flirtatious smile she gives them.
Do I
even know this girl?
I'm
glad to see her like this. She spent so much time in her shell growing up, just
like me.
The
front door swings open a second time. I'm already facing that way, and I
recognize the man strolling in from his picture. No one can know I was
expecting him, though, just in case, so I turn my head away.
"That's
him," I whisper to Melissa.
This is
where I need her tonight. She needs to get him over here, so this looks
innocent on my part.
The
color runs from her face quickly.
"Relax,"
I whisper again, trying to calm her. "Just think of it as practice for all
the guys you have to meet while you're here."
She
lets out a shy little giggle.
I watch
in the mirror as she finds the courage to face the guy and smile. He looks
lost, glancing around the room looking for someone that he doesn't even know.
Behind
us, I see the guy that has been watching from a table. His eyes are on us, taking
in everything. He sees Melissa, watches her intentionally smiling at this new
person standing in the foyer.
He
smiles back at Melissa and heads for us.
The guy
at the table finally catches my eyes in the mirror and knows that I'm on to
him. His face turns white and his eyes drop to the table nervously. Something
must be decided, I can see his wheels spinning. Quickly, he throws a few bills
on the tabletop, stands and walks out without looking at us again.
What
the fuck?
There's
no time to wonder what the hell that was about; I have to concentrate on the
meeting—my meeting.
"Charity?"
he asks Melissa.
"Have
a seat," she says, not denying or confirming who she is as she motions to
the empty chair on the opposite side of her, further away from me. It needs to
look like he's talking to her, not me. I can never be sure where Justin has
eyes.
He sits
next to her. "Thank you for reaching out," he says in a pleasant
voice. "I've always wondered what happened, why it ended."
He's
almost as hard to look at as Justin, with piercing blue eyes and handsome
features just like his picture had promised. No wedding rings or any sign that
one sits on that finger.
I
really like how this is starting.
"It
just wasn't a good time back then," I reply without looking at him.
He understands
who is who now, that I'm being careful. Melissa simply smiles politely.
"So
the "it's not you, it’s me" speech I got back then was actually
true?"
He made
all of us smile. "Maybe the first time in history for that, but
yeah," I joked.
His shoulders
relaxed. "So, is it a better time now?"
"On
that end it is, yes, but what about you?" I ask. "I'm not doing this
unless it's good for everyone. Are you just satisfying some curiosity, or is
this possible?"
"It's
very possible. It's the only thing possible. I've been completely shut off
since then, broken. I'm not convinced I've taken a single breath until I
received your email, and now I'm not breathing again because I’m terrified to
get my hopes up. I couldn't take it if it happens again, not if I'm all
in."
I nod
my head. I understand exactly what he means.
"There's
nothing—no one—stopping me, though; and that's really what you want to know,
isn't it?" he asks.
Melissa
nods an eager
yes
, and she's not even fully vested in this. I guess in some
way she is now; I got her heart involved.
"Good,"
I say. "Is there anything else, anything that has changed or that we
should know?"
"Not
on my end," he answers.
"Not
on this end, either," I add with smile. This was actually going to have a
shot at working.
"Now,"
he starts, "what do we do?"
TRISHA CAME IN LOOKING
as hot as ever rocking a pair of Tory Burch Boots, blue
jeans, and a black DKNY knit. I'm nearly convinced she would look good wrapped
up in toilet paper.
Melissa
was hysterically laughing in less than one minute. I'm disappointed; it was
thirty seconds longer than I thought it would take.
"How's
Sam?" I ask as the three of us sit around a table in the back.
"Hot
and wonderful," she said. "Oh my God—look what he got me for
Christmas!" She holds a round diamond pendant out toward us.
"Oh,
Trisha, it's beautiful," I breathe.
"Stunning,"
Melissa adds.
I wish
someone had taken care of her for the holiday. Of course she isn't saying a
word, but I know my friend. Everyone around her has someone. She's happy for
us, that's not the problem. It's that she's sad for herself, too.
"So,
you, Melissa, talk. What flavor do you like?" Trisha demands through her
cute little girl smile.
Melissa
releases a controlled giggle. "Anything hot," she answers.
"Gonna
need more than that, girl," Trisha says flatly. "Give me a live
reference. Pick some guys from here, at least someone for direction if you
don't think any are worthy of the Secret Society of Women Warriors."
"The
what?" Melissa laughs.
Trisha's
face snaps toward me, shocked. "She hasn't heard him say it yet," I
say with a shrug.
Trisha
laughs, surprised. Melissa is lost and looking left out. "Justin calls her
Warrior. If you haven't heard it yet, you will. It's adorable, really."
I feel
the redness seep into my face.
Fuck
that, own it!
"So
let's go, give me some examples. Anyone here interest you?" Trisha
continues.
"She
had her eye on the Four Guys before you got here," I toss in. "Her
eyes were all over them when they came in." I don’t even have to look at
her to know that she’s delightfully shocked and upset at me throwing her under
the bus.
"Yeah?"
Trisha breaths, excited. "I love the Four Guys, they're sweethearts,
really, really nice guys. Which one does it for you?"