Malcolm
I can’t take my eyes off of Mandy. She’s gorgeous and so fucking fuckable. The way the brown waves of her silky hair spill over my pillow and her bruised lips lift to a sexy-as-hell smile makes me perpetually hard. Having her ride my dick in the front seat of her car was exhilarating, but that’s not the kind of woman she is.
Mandy Wells is a thousand-count Egyptian sheets, brass bed, and soft piped-in music kind of woman. She’s the best life has to offer...She’s champagne and caviar.
Maybe champagne and pizza. Okay, wine and pizza. Fine, wine and great pizza.
That's okay. I prefer her that way.
Since we’ve been seeing each other, each time together is something new. Mandy is spontaneous, sexy, and responsive as hell. She's also responsible and caring. She’s all of those things wrapped into one beautiful package. Whether she’s thinking about her responsibilities or enjoying an outing on the Gulf of Mexico, she’s everything I never knew I wanted.
As her eyes close and her smile rests, I crawl over her luscious body, covering it with mine. Even with the outside temperature dropping, she doesn’t need blankets—I’ll be her blanket. My cock twitches as it grows and rubs against her thighs.
Her gorgeous blue eyes open. “Malcolm, umm, didn’t we just do that?”
“Didn’t I just fuck you until you screamed every cuss word I’ve ever heard?”
Her cheeks rise. “I bet you’ve heard others.”
“Nope. And I spent six years in a locker room. That is very impressive, Ms. Wells.”
“I think you’re exaggerating…”
Her words trail away as the tip of my hard cock teases her folds and her legs slowly part. She is right. We did just do this, but damn, with her beside me, I’m hard again.
I know there’s been things happening with her son, things that have been worrying her, but as of yet, she hasn’t trusted me with that side of her life. I understand. I’ll take what I can get. Right now, Mandy's in my bed and I want to be inside her, buried in her wet, warm heaven. I want to make her forget whatever else in this world is bothering her.
“Happy anniversary,” I whisper as I sink deep inside her.
She stutters as her back arches and her lips form that adorable ‘O.’ “W-what anniversary?”
“We met three months ago, today.”
I bask in her smile as she wiggles and moves with my rhythm.
During those three months, we’ve stolen moments to be together whenever we could. Only that one time did I have her for an entire weekend. I’ve been wracking my brain for ideas on how to do it again.
I long for nights like this when she can be in my bed, when we have more than an hour here or two there. I’m addicted to her presence, not only in my bed, but in my life. I long to have her on the sidelines when my team plays soccer, beside me at school functions...beside me in life. I fantasize about flying her to Florida again, but this time to meet my parents and catch another Lightning game.
I’ve never known a woman like Mandy—Amanda—before. I’ve never wanted to spend my time with the same woman, yet I miss her every second we’re apart. She’s my drug and I’m addicted, enthralled by her zeal for life.
Her fingernails bite into the skin of my back as I pump harder. The way her pussy hugs my dick is also addicting. I tell myself we’ll only go out to dinner, to the movies, or for drinks. Mandy agrees, and then…
We find ourselves connected, me inside her, her surrounding me, her gorgeous tits in my face, and her essence covering my fingers, tongue, and cock. Thank goodness she finally told me she was on birth control and we agreed to be as close as possible. The way she said it, it almost seemed like a new development, but how could a woman like Mandy not be on birth control?
Our world shakes as her entire body stiffens. I open my eyes.
It’s one of my favorite views, watching her come. I love the way for a moment everything else in the world disappears, and she enjoys the pleasure inside her.
I kiss her nose. “You’re amazing.”
Mandy shakes her head. “I think that’s you.”
Though I don’t want to, I ease out of her. “I wish you’d stay all night.”
“My son is spending the night with my parents, but I need to be there in the morning.”
I reach for her hand. “What happened to his dad?”
The happiness of a moment ago is gone. I haven't pushed, but it's been three months and I want to know.
“Malcolm...”
“Beautiful, I'm not going anywhere. There’s nothing you can say that will scare me away.”
Her lips disappear between her teeth, one by one, as she contemplates telling me her story. I pull her close, her cheek to my chest, and wait. With the comfort of the soft sheet and blanket over our bodies, we lie in the stillness for what seems like an eternity. Only the sound of our breathing and the light hum of the furnace warming the apartment fill the air.
I have ideas about what could have happened to her son’s father. Maybe he’s a jerk and didn’t want kids. Maybe he’s in prison. What I didn’t anticipate was the reality.
Mandy speaks quietly, replacing the rhythm of our breaths with the awful truth. “He was killed by an IED.”
I feel like a jerk with the scenarios I'd imagined. None of them had included her being a widow. Then again, what she just said makes sense. I couldn’t imagine any man willingly leaving this beautiful woman, not her and not a kid. As her shoulders shudder, I kiss the top of her head, tasting the hair spray and shampoo. “I’m sorry. Thank you for telling me.”
I pull her tighter as her pain—her loss—emanates from her every pore. It’s a dense cloud surrounding us. It’s not pretty. But life isn’t always pretty. This is the truth I want to share, the reality I want to navigate beside her, if she’ll allow me.
After another long pause, she speaks again, “You’re the first...the only...other than him. I know we started this sex thing fast, but I hadn’t...not in five years.”
I run my hand over her hair, smoothing the waves and wanting her to know how much I care for her. Hell, it’s more than care. Over the past three months I’ve fallen in love with her. I hug her tighter. “So the birth control?”
“I never needed it.”
“I never thought you slept around.”
She lifts her tearstained cheeks. “Really? We did it in the front seat of my car on our second date.”
My grin broadens. “We did and in my apartment the first night we met. I'll never forget either time. You were fantastic. I love it when you ride my cock.”
“You do?”
The way she asks brings my body back to life one more time. “I do. I love the way your tits bounce in my face and the way your knees squeeze my hips.”
Mandy shakes her head as she pushes herself up. “You know I’m tired, right?”
“I know you love to ride my cock as much as I love having you do it.”
“Fuck,” she mumbles as she moves and straddles my hips.
“No, beautiful. You’re supposed to save the cussing for when you come apart.”
“Because you’re confident enough to think you can make me do that for a third time tonight?”
I reach down and position my now-hard-again dick at her pussy. Before entering, I say, “No, not confident—cocky enough.”
“Yes, Mr. Peppernick, you are cock—”
My dick interrupts her smart remark as it slides into its favorite place on earth.
"Oh fuck!" she gasps as her neck stretches and her tits fill my vision.
With her hands on my shoulders and tits in my face, Mandy moves up and down, slow at first, adjusting and accommodating. Her pussy is like a glove—two sizes too small—that fits perfectly around me. It may seem like the timing sucks, but in reality, it feels like part of the process, her process. Her moving through the cloud of hurt and sorrow, maybe for once accepting that she doesn’t have to do it alone.
There’s something about this time, slow, with her in total control, that seems to satisfy her in a way words can’t. I want Mandy to know she’s safe with me, her stories and her heart. We can take it slow or fast, whatever she wants.
When we finally settle again, I kiss her hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think sorry is what you meant. You meant, damn, Mandy, that was great.”
I scoff. “Yes, it was. I’m sorry about your son’s dad.”
“My husband...” she clarifies before going on. “We were married for only two years, but we were together forever. He was my brother’s best friend. From the time we were all little kids, he was always around...”
In my darkened bedroom, we lie awake for hours as she talks. For three months I couldn’t get her to tell me anything, and in one night I’m hearing it all. Her life, words, and emotions are fully on display. In many ways, she’s more exposed than she was that first night. Story after story comes forth, one ending as another begins. With each one, Mandy lets me into her life and her heart; though her son is mentioned, it’s her husband’s name I learn. Through it all I hear how much she loved Jackson, how they loved one another. Theirs was something special. It was that once-in-a-lifetime attraction that’s meant to be forever. My heart breaks as she recalls him leaving after their son’s birth, his promise to return, and the fateful knock on her door. While it hurts to hear her pain, I like that she doesn’t hold back.
My chest stays perpetually damp with her tears.
When she finally stops talking, her breathing stills, and I can tell she’s fallen asleep.
I don’t care that she wants to go home. I’m not letting her go tonight. I never want to let her go. Instead, I hold her tightly as she sleeps.
It’s strange as I contemplate all she told me.
I never imagined falling for someone, falling in love with someone, and then holding that someone while she possibly dreamt of someone else, but for some reason, it feels right.
I’m honored that Mandy finally let me in—trusted me—not just into her body, but also with a glimpse into her heart. Knowing her story helps me to understand her trepidation. It makes sense. But as I lie with her in my arms, I wish I could make her understand that I’ll never try to replace Jackson. What they had together shouldn’t be replaced. What I’d like to do is love her too. She deserves that.
As I fall asleep, I hope that someday she’ll decide there’s room in her heart and her life for me too.