Nick sat up and took her plate from her. He set it aside. Breaking a slice of cheddar in half, he raised it to her lips. Holding her gaze, he fed her with one hand, reaching beneath her skirt with the other to feather his fingers oh-so-lightly along her inner thigh. Michelle’s breath caught.
Nick reached for a grape, crushed it slightly and squeezed its juices onto her full lips. Michelle darted her tongue out, running the tip over her lips, and Nick squeezed the grape again. Michelle caught each drop on her pink tongue. Nick acquired an oval of French bread and held it up before her. As she took her first bite, he moved his hand to her quivering, engorged clit, rubbing it in a circular motion with his thumb. Moaning, Michelle swallowed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back. Nick withdrew his hand. “Uh-uh-uh,” he admonished, wagging his finger in front of her face. “You mustn’t stop eating.” He waited to see that she understood, and she leaned forward with parted lips to take another bite.
Nick resumed his tantalizing roundelay, going ever…so…slowly. Michelle ground her hips, striving to increase the pressure, the speed. Nick wouldn’t let her, compensating for her movements—keeping his touch light, lazy, titillating. Michelle was desperate for him. The grapes had whetted her appetite. She was starving. For him. She wanted his cock in her mouth—wanted to swallowhis juices.
Nick watched as Michelle’s desire mounted. Briefly, he reached down and undid the snap on his shorts, pulled down the zipper. His bulging penis filled his underwear, its fleshy tip just visible above his waistband.
Michelle involuntarily reached out, but Nick took her hand and kissed it, then returned it to her side. He reached for another slice of bread, which kept her busy and gave him time to concentrate on her engorged clitoris. He kept working her, waiting for the sounds of her desire, longing to hear the music of her need. Finally she moaned and Nick rewarded her by increasing the speed of his revolutions. Again she moaned, and he turned his hand, using two of his fingers to part her labia, continuing the rapid revolutions of his thumb on her clit.
Michelle was breathing hard now—great, gasping breaths punctuated by sighs and moans, but she kept eating. Yes, never stopping, because thenhe would stop, and this exquisite torture was too fine, too fabulous, to give up.
Nick played her clit like the fret on a guitar, working to the rhythm of her music—rewarding her with speed and pressure when she gasped or moaned, slowing when she sighed or was silent. He loved listening to her. When she cried out briefly, which was what he had been waiting for, with her labia parted he inserted just the tip of his middle finger into the moist furrow, wiggling it back and forth. She cried out again and her cunt spasmed, tightening on his finger, making his cock throb. She stopped chewing and Nick started to withdraw, but Michelle grabbed his hand, holding it while she took another desperate bite, so he plunged his finger into her as far as it would go, moving it in rapid whorls inside her.
Michelle bucked her hips, fucking his finger faster and faster. Nick let the bread drop, forgotten, as her thick juices coated his hand, and cum spurted in short bursts from his pulsating penis. Michelle arched back, her hands supporting her weight. Nick quickly pulled her legs from under her and pushed her skirt to her waist, so he could see.
His finger was buried deep inside her bush, her juices coating the blanket beneath her. He slipped another finger into her, his cock spurting again as he watched her vaginal walls tighten, spasming against his flesh. “Fuck me, Nick, fuck me,” she begged. Nick withdrew his fingers, swiftly removed his garments and lay naked on the ground, his head even with her cunt, her leg arched over his chest.
He reached for her hand and brought it down to his shaft. Just the touch of her cool flesh against his searing member caused another brief eruption of cream, which spilled onto her fingers. She massaged him, moving her hand up and down rapidly, using his semen as lubrication. Nick turned onto his side, facing her pussy, and resumed fucking her with his fingers, watching her grasping cunt swallow him, over and over. He brought his mouth to her clit, swollen and hard as her nipples, and surrounded it with his lips, flicking his tongue back and forth over its erect tip.
Michelle collapsed onto her back as she came, convulsing over and over, her hand spasming on his penis—milking it, bringing forth total, glorious release. Nick lay back and rested for a moment, then crawled up alongside her. He took the hand she had jerked him off with, and sucked the fluid off one finger. “I like the taste of me on you,” he growled. Michelle opened her eyes. “Letme taste,” she said, her voice husky with desire.
Nick was pleased to feel the molten river rising again in his groin. She was going to drive him wild, this woman. Fascinated, he watched as Michelle suckled, feeding on her fingers, her eyes never leaving his, dark with craving. When she was done, she tookhis hand. She placed the middle finger in her mouth and watched him as she went down on it, taking it deep into her throat.
It was Nick’s turn to moan, as his cock pulsed and even his nipples began to tingle. “I like the taste ofme onyou ,” she murmured. Nick smiled. “Let me taste,” he said, mimicking her earlier words, and he licked his own fingers, feasting on her tart, thick cum.
“Nick—” she gasped, trying to roll over onto him.
“Not that,” he said. “Not yet.”
“Then let me drink you,” she pleaded, and Nick nodded. Michelle rose and positioned herself beside him, Indian style once again. Her pussy was in full view as she bent over his towering erection. Her lips on his skin were magic, and the cock he could have sworn would hold nothing more, swelled further.
Michelle swirled her tongue around the head of his penis, savoring its firmness, its heat, the salty remnants of his semen. Nick reached for her pussy, but she pushed his hand away. She withdrew from his penis, turning her head. “Watch,” she said. She caught the tip of his cock in her mouth, still with her head turned so that she could see him. She ran the fingertip of her right hand lightly over his balls, then walked the fingers of her left hand over her own belly, past the dark triangle of hair. She held her vagina open with her thumb and last two fingers so that Nick could watch as she plunged the other two fingers into her throbbing orifice. Nick gasped, releasing a trickle of cream into Michelle’s mouth. She began to slide her mouth up and down on his shaft, moving in concert with her own fingers. Fucking herself as she ate him. Moving faster and faster as she sensed his excitement, his appetite, his—
They convulsed at the same time. Nick pushed her head down—far down onto his shaft, spewing his juices into her throat, watching her red, fleshy cunt swallow-and-release, swallow-and-release her fingers in an unremitting orgasm.
Michelle drank his juices hungrily. He was swelling again, even as he came, stimulated by the site of her masturbating for his benefit. The sensation of him swelling inside her, even as she swallowed his essence, filled her with manic lust. She wrapped her right arm under his leg, pushing his thick rod even deeper into her throat—nearly gagging, but wanting him as deep inside her as he could go. She felt his finger slide into her pussy, alongside the two she was using. She withdrew her middle finger, letting their forefingers move together, rapidly—twisting, twining, dancing with each other until a blaze of white-hot ecstasy engulfed them both, and her thirst was finally assuaged as he emptied into her mouth, again and again.
They lay in the clearing for a long time. Exhausted. Content. Occasionally running their fingers over each other’s shoulders, or along one another’s ribs.
“Thank you,” Nick whispered hoarsely.
Michelle smiled and rubbed her cheek against his chest. “You’re welcome.”
“If anyone were to come in here… “ Nick mused.
“They won’t,” Michelle assured him. “According to Penny, the staff will have discreetly blocked off the entrance for us, long ago.”
“Aaah, Penny. Sothat’s how you found out about this place.”
Michelle grinned mischievously. “Call it a make-up gift.”
Nick chuckled, then continued more seriously. “Are you sure this is what you want? I have to tell you Michelle—I can’t make a long-term commitment. Not now. Maybe not ever. There are things about me that you don’t know. Things that have made it impossible for me to have a permanent relationship with anyone in the past.”
Though a tight knot had formed in the pit of her stomach, Michelle traced his collarbone with the tip of a fingernail. “Yes, Nick. This is what I want.”
He tilted her head, studying her carefully for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. Michelle sighed and melted against him.
They basked in the afterglow for a little while longer. Eventually, Michelle sighed again and said, “We really need to get packed up. The band’s playing tonight. I’ve got to get back and get ready.” Reluctantly, she extricated herself from Nick’s embrace, restored her skirt to a crumpled semblance of modesty, and started putting away the food.
Nick groaned, and pushed himself up. He reacquired his shirt, shorts and underwear and when he was finished dressing, helped her pack up the remains of their picnic. Folding the blanket, he glanced toward the brook and noticed copper pennies glinting beneath the water. He reached into his hip pocket and pulled out some change. Picking out two pennies, he handed one to Michelle, nodding his head toward the stream. “Make a wish.”
Their coins gleamed as they arced into the water. Michelle kept her wish simple.No matter what happens, let me never forget how wonderful this day was , she thought. Nick’s was more complex.Somehow, let me figure out a way to allow this relationship to last .
(A pause, as in between the acts of a play)
Duncan helped Ray load the last of his drums into the van, and shut the doors. Michelle walked over to wish everyone a good night.
“Hey, Mick,” Josh said. “Another phenomenal night, huh?”
Michelle smiled. “Yeah, we’re really hitting our stride, aren’t we?”
Josh and Duncan exchanged looks. “Coming with us to celebrate?” Duncan asked.
“Nah.” Michelle brushed her hair back from her face. “I’ve had a really busy day. I’m exhausted.”
Duncan frowned. “I don’t get it.” He glanced around at the other band members, seeking support. “We finally have a chance to move out of the realm of local favorite, maybe even get a record label interested. You’ve been incredible lately, and it’s bringing usall up a notch. We’re getting great reviews, but you don’t spend any time with us anymore, outside of rehearsals and gigs.”
Sarah nodded. “I hate to admit it, as much as we’ve argued in the past, but… evenI miss you.”
“Wow.” Michelle did a double-take. “I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t realize.”
“Bands break up when their members lose touch with each other,” Josh observed sagely.
Michelle shook her head ruefully. “Okay, okay. Point taken. I’ll come!”
She followed the van toJack’s , an old-fashioned, all-night eatery that was Duncan’s favorite haunt. Inside, they commandeered a table in the corner, placed their orders, and started chatting.
“So, tell us,” Sarah asked Michelle. “What’s going on with you?”
Michelle exhaled an exasperated breath. “Honestly, you guys. I’m just seeing someone. That’s all. We stay pretty busy. Between that, gigs and rehearsals, and writing new music and lyrics, I’m just really tired at the end of the day.”
Duncan frowned. “Who is this guy, anyway?”
“Nicholas Duquaine.”
Josh whistled. Just then, their orders arrived, and everyone was preoccupied with their food for a short while.
When he finished, Josh pushed back his plate. “Duquaine’s a fantastic composer,” he said, picking up the conversation right where they’d left off.
“Yes, he is,” Michelle agreed.
Duncan’s brow furrowed. “How’d you two meet? We don’t exactly travel in the same musical circles.”
“He bought the old McMurtry house in my neighborhood,” Michelle explained. “I just…ran into him one night, and things went from there.”
“He just moved in a couple of months ago, right?”
Michelle rolled her eyes. “Why the third degree, Dunc? I’m thirty-five years old, you know. I can take care of myself. I’m certainly capable of deciding on my own whom I can and can’t date.”
“Just seems kind of sudden,” Duncan said. “Especially since you were never willing to date me.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. Duncan had strong feelings for Michelle. She’d auditioned for his band shortly after her divorce, when she felt Angela was old enough to be left with a babysitter and she had found someone she trusted. He had wanted to date her, but she’d had no desire to get involved again so soon. However, they had become close friends, until Angela’s death. Then, Duncan had pressed her for a more intimate relationship again, perhaps thinking that her loss made her more vulnerable. She’d informed him in no uncertain terms that she had never had romantic feelings for him and never would, but that she was willing to stay friends if he backed off. Now their relationship vacillated between strictly professional and awkwardly friendly.
“Ray, what about that new song you’re writing?” Sarah asked, redirecting the conversation. The awkward moment passed, but Michelle remained slightly apprehensive. She should have realized that Duncan would be jealous. Josh was right, bandsdid break up when they lost touch with each other, and a rift between her and Duncan at this moment could cause a great deal of trouble just as their star was beginning to rise.
* * * * *
Nick tossed restlessly in his sleep.He was in a green garden, looking down at a very beautiful woman, one who was beckoning to him. She was nude, her body voluptuous, her legs splayed so that he saw the wet, raw lips of her cunt. He walked over and lowered himself onto her, impaling that inviting pussy with his trembling shaft. She moaned, calling out his name. “Yes, Eric, yes.” He frowned. His name was Nick, wasn’t it? He shook off confusion and closed his eyes, letting sensation carry him away.