Lana didn't like the smell coming off of the grill. Dave wanted to cook for her so badly, but that didn't make him good at it. Still, she reminded herself, at least he was trying. That was more than she could say for her fucking ex-husband.
She laid her head back and enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her skin. She'd eat something here, maybe get something else on the way back to her apartment later, no muss, no fuss. Dave wouldn't have to get his feelings hurt, and she wouldn't have to go hungry after a badly-burned dinner.
She hadn't done it in days, though, and it was starting to really get to her. She'd been with John for three years, and they'd fucked practically every day, but Dave was taking it slow and gentle. It was sweet, in a way, but in another way she just wanted to get fucked.
Lana opened her eyes and looked around the yard to confirm what she already knew. The fence was almost ten feet high, nobody else was going to see. She sat forward and fussed with the tie on her bikini behind her back, letting it fall forward and off her breasts.
Then she closed her eyes, laid back, and waited.
It wasn't a subtle move, and she knew that it wouldn't be long before Dave looked over to check on her. He was very good about making sure she was comfortable. But as time passed, she wondered, was he going to do anything about it?
She was giving him the invitation, practically engraved it for him, but still she didn't feel the weight of his knee on the patio chair. Didn't hear the light slapping of his sandals against his feet as he walked over. For all she could tell, he hadn't even noticed.
Things with John had to end. He was a real piece of work, didn't do a whole lot of talking with her or with anyone, and what's more he never gave a single indication that he gave one single thought to her or to anyone else for that matter. It was all about him, like a goddamn child.
But that didn't mean she hadn't spent years building that relationship up, and now she was knocking on forty, with hopes for kids and a family, and her fiancé was over there, not paying attention to her when she was trying to give all the signals in the world of exactly what she wanted.
She opened her eyes and looked down her body. She couldn't say that she looked like a twenty-year-old any more. But the curves seemed to be in the right places, and just as importantly, didn't seem to be in the places where they weren't supposed to be.
So why didn't Dave look at her? She could see from his body language, the way he stood a little stiffly, that he'd noticed. Yet, he was studiously avoiding looking at her, like she was off-limits. A woman doesn't get pregnant that way, she thought glumly.
She laid her head back again and stared at the sky when a thought occurred to her. She was moping, damn it all. Why was she moping? She had a great fiancé, a great house. Even if he needed some prodding to give her the kids she wanted, she could easily be the push he needed.
She stood up and walked over, enjoying the satisfying sound of her wooden heels on the concrete patio. Wrapped her arms around Dave, and squeezed, pressing her breasts flat against his broad back.
"You've been working out," she said idly. She could sense the smile that crossed his face, even though she couldn't see it.
"And you're naked," Dave answered.
"Oh, so you did notice."
Dave shut the grill and turned to face Lana, pressing a kiss against her lips. His beard scratched, but not enough to stop her. "I noticed."
"Dave, when are you gonna fuck me for real?"
His face lowered, and little bit, and he hefted the weight of one of her breasts in his hand. "What do you mean, baby doll?"
"I want a baby. We're ready for it, don't you think?"
He went stiff again, and she worried that she had been too direct. Maybe she would have had better luck with just getting him to fuck her bareback because it felt good. But men, she knew, had a tendency to run away when they heard 'pregnant.'
It was scary for a man, sure. But it was scary for her, too, and they wouldn't have to deal with carrying it. Lana lifted his face back up to hers and kissed him again, trying to push the thoughts out of her own head with the kiss.
Dave let out a deep sigh and looked into her eyes. "We'll talk about it over dinner, okay?" He turned around and lifted the lid on the grill again. "But maybe you should order pizza."
Lana smiled. "Pizza it is, then."
She reached for the T-shirt she'd worn out and started to slip it on.
"But you can stay like that, I mean—don't get dressed on my account." Lana looked over her shoulder and Dave winked back at her.
"Oh, no, of course not. Pepperoni and Italian Sausage?"
"Sounds fine," he answered, already peeling the crispy hamburgers into a trash bag.
"Okay, they'll be here in thirty minutes." Lana dropped into the couch beside Dave and leaned into him, letting her head rest against his strong chest.
"Good," he answered, leaning down to kiss her on the top of her head. She looked up at him and they kissed again.
Lana let her eyes drift shut. There were things she missed about her ex-husband, she knew. There were things Dave missed about Kate, too, she was sure. But the trade off, what she was getting out of it, was more than worth it. Fuck Kate, anyways. She always dressed like she was going to a funeral.
A chef on the TV was talking about how delicious the meal that he had set out in front of himself was, and the cameraman was giving the meal all the help he could. It looked delicious even as she thought that a mushroom soufflé sounded awful.
"I could make you one of those," Dave said seriously.
Lana looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow, saying nothing. Dave looked down at her, his expression neutral and serious. For a long moment, neither of them said anything at all, even as their thoughts were painted across their face.
Dave was the first to crack, giggling at his own joke. He could hardly scramble eggs, and both of them knew it.
"Of course you could, sweetheart," Lana purred. She climbed up and sat in Dave's lap, feeling their proximity somewhere deep down in the same part of her brain that relentlessly reminded her that she didn't have a baby yet.
"Don't get too involved in that, you know dinner's coming soon."
"Fuck dinner," Lana said, kissing a path from Dave's lips down to his jaw down to his neck.
"And we still need to have that talk."
"Okay," Lana said between kisses. "Talk."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure about what?" Lana pushed her elbows together to make her cleavage as obvious as possible. "About a baby?"
"It's a big decision, you know."
"I know," Lana said, sitting back. "But I've been thinking about it a lot, and I know you wouldn't mind kids."
"No, I wouldn't," Dave said. He put his big hands on Lana's thighs and gave them an experimental squeeze. "In fact, I've been thinking about it a lot, too."
"Yeah?"
"And I don't want it to ruin our relationship. What we have."
"It won't, baby." Lana started to rock her hips back and forth suggestively. "I just…I'm ready to move on with my life."
"Well, if you're sure," Dave said, leaning forward and pulling an earlobe into his mouth, nipping it gently with his teeth, "I'd be more than happy to do that for you. Only…"
"Only what?" Lana brought his hands to her breasts, using his fingers to pinch her own hardened nipples.
"Not before dinner," Dave answered, smiling. "Though I could think of one little bit of fun we could have."
"I'm not sucking your cock right before you—"
Dave laughed, and then as they sat there together, the doorbell rang. "You could go get the pizza, that could be fun."
Lana raised an eyebrow. "Yes sir, master, sir."
She reached for her tee shirt, and Dave's hand moved out to stop her. "No, like that," he said softly.
Lana looked at him for a long moment. Did she dare? It had all been in fun, up to this point, but this…heck, wasn't it a crime, even? She looked at Dave's face and tried to gauge his reaction. Playful, certainly, but there was something more there. A fire.
Lana felt a smile spread across her face unbidden. The idea was awful. Could get her arrested. She felt a warmth light in the pit of her stomach, all the way down to her core. An electric buzz that connected her pussy and her nipples and the base of her spine, making her heart beat harder.
"Sure," she said softly, worrying for some reason that the delivery boy might hear her. She hoped to hell it was the usual one, the nineteen-year-old boy. That could be fun. Not the forty-something woman with a sour face. No, she'd rather get a reaction.
Dave sat forward and pulled his wallet out, thumbing through a couple of crumpled green bills, before separating out a twenty dollar bill.
"Here you go, sweetie. Have fun," he said. As if he wasn't going to be watching from the doorway.
"Oh, I will," she said. Her heart was beating hard, and her voice sounded just as uncertain as she felt, even in spite of the arousal that was eating away at her resolve.
Her hands shook gently as she walked through the kitchen toward the door. Sure enough, she could hear Dave get up and follow her a few seconds later, watching her. She made sure to put a little sway in her hips to remind him what he was getting later.
Her hands were still shaking when she got to the door. She looked out through the peep-hole, and saw standing at the top of the stairs a young, fit-looking boy with careless-looking hair and a uniform that barely managed to contain his bulging arms.
The door handle didn't turn right away, until she realized that they'd locked the door. Flipping the lock open, she eased the handle and started to open the door when everything came crashing down. How bad an idea was this?
But things were already moving. She couldn't stop, not now. So instead she would just have to push through her fear. The door seemed to open in slow-motion, and she popped her head around the door.
"Large pepperoni and Italian sausage?"
"That's us." Lana rubbed the twenty dollar bill between her fingers and tried to imagine a better way to do this. What the heck had they been thinking? Instead she looked back over her shoulder.
Dave was leaning against one wall, watching her with a lazy interest that seemed at odds with what she knew about the man. Something about his comfortable posture made her surge with confidence. She could do this. Her head buzzed and swam, but she opened the door the rest of the way.
"Keep the change," she said, taking the pizza from the delivery guy's hands.
She watched his eyes wide, staring down at her breasts, and then watched his eyes snap up to her face when he realized what he had done. She winked and smiled at him—then used her foot to close the door between them.
Lana turned back towards Dave and laughed, carrying the pizza into the kitchen. "Hey, babe, you mind getting plates?"
"Well, that was hot," Dave said, a while later. Like he'd been thinking about it for a little while, Lana thought.
"Yeah? You like it when other guys see my tits?"
"I like it when I see your tits, babe. Other guys…nah." He took a bite and thought for a long couple of minutes. "Just something about you being all hot and bothered, I guess."
"Well," Lana offered, "I could think of another way to get all hot and bothered."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"You could, y'know…"
"No, I could what?"
"I want a baby, we talked about this. I'm fertile as hell and here you are eating a pizza."
Dave paused a moment, a stupid grin spreading across his face slowly. "Well hell, I guess we're wasting precious time."
He put the pizza down in the box and carried the whole kit back into the kitchen. The man who came back wasn't the same man that had left. There was something else in the lines of his face, a predatory aspect. The way his shoulders hung at his sides made threats that she wasn't sure she was more frightening or arousing.
"Lay down," Dave said. His voice was deeper than Lana was used to, and she found herself following his instructions without thinking about it. "Good girl."
He sat down beside her on the couch and let one palm slide across one ample breast. Lana smiled up at him. Whatever had brought this on, she liked it. "I've been a bad girl, though, Davey."
"I know you have." His voice was grave and his expression serious.
Suddenly, with the speed of a snake, his hand shot out and took her bare nipple between two fingers and pulled, just enough to color the pleasure with some pain. Lana moaned in pain or pleasure or both, and put a hand on his wrist. Dave took her hand in his and shook his head softly.
"I'll be taking this at my own pace, Lana. You get what I want, and I get what I want. How's that?"
"Mmmmmm, it sounds great," Lana purred, pressing her breasts into his gently exploring hands.
Before she knew what was happening, the inside of Lana's thigh lit up in pain, pain she felt like an electric buzz in her clit. "Did I ask you to move?"
"No," she whined. "Please…"
"Please, what?"
"I want you to fuck me."
"Bad girls need to be punished, Lana, you know that."
Lana let out a whimper. His fingers started moving along her body, dancing up and down, before finding the hem of her jeans. "Do you want me to make you feel good, Lana baby?"
"Oh yes," she hummed. This was a new feeling, one that she was altogether unfamiliar with, and one that she didn't want to end. Lana wanted nothing more than for him to take whatever he wanted. She wanted to give it to him, but she couldn't. That would have ruined it for both of them.
Dave's fingers snaked inside her jeans and probed at the apex of her mound, teasing their way around her swollen, sensitive clit. Every time that she thought he might touch it, might give her the relief that she so desperately needed, his fingers danced away. Then, before she had her satisfaction, his delicious, delightful fingers were pulling away.
"Open your mouth," he said softly.
Lana didn't. He pressed his fingers gently against her lips. She could feel her own moisture on the tips of his fingers, and felt a mixture of disgust and arousal that she found it impossible to resist. She let him press his fingers through her lips and into her mouth.
The taste was sharp and salty-sweet. Her mind told her how disgusting it was, but the way that Dave used her for his own pleasure, for his own fantasies, triggered some evolutionary sequence in her body. She licked at his fingers greedily. For him, for the show she wanted to give him.
"Good girl," he growled. "Very good girl."
Lana smiled up at him sweetly. "Shouldn't good girls get treats?"
"You're very right, baby doll. What treat would you like?"
Lana looked at his crotch significantly and then turned her eyes hopefully up to her fiancé.
"Oh, all right. But you should move over to the bedroom for this next part," he said teased.
Lana whooped, caught up in the roleplay, and practically glided over to the bedroom. She laid down on her back and let her emotions wash over her. Hope, arousal, happiness, enjoyment… She could hear Dave coming in behind her, could feel him dropping his trousers to the floor.
"Lana?" He waited for her to look at him. "I love you."
"I love you too, babe! Now, come here and fuck me."
He didn't need to be told twice, ducking down as he walked up to grab her ankles and pull them into the air before settling on his shoulders. Lana could feel him probing her folds, wanted to reach out and move towards it somehow. To make it happen faster. She stopped herself—the waiting only made the pleasure more delicious when it came.
And then, while she struggled with temptation, it did. He filled her, deep and swiftly, and Lana gasped in surprise that quickly turned into a purr of approving pleasure. He pulled out slowly and waited, only the very head of his member still inside. Then he moved, and took her again a second time, hard enough that her vision blanked out for a second. And again. And again.
Lana reached for something, anything, that would hold her down, would help her last through this assault on the senses, but nothing came to her. She laid her head back and whimpered, unable to comprehend the sensations. She was along for the ride, moving and rocking back to meet the oncoming thrusts that her mind couldn't understand or accept, but her body happily and hungrily did.
She was floating on a cloud, the only thing in her world the delicious pleasure at her core. She could feel, though, that Dave was close. His thrusts were becoming more and more erratic, more and more needy. And she could feel that he wasn't slowing down or stopping. Lana laid her head back and let sensation wash over her again. She wanted, needed, to savor this moment for as long as she could.
He pushed into her and her entire world was the delicious stretching feeling, the feeling of fullness and completeness. Then pulled out and she was battered on the rocks of anticipation until he thrust into her again, deeper than before, hitting the deepest spots inside her.
He groaned softly, and she felt his seed spreading throughout her, a warm cloud enveloping her from the inside. He moved inside her again, and she came a second time.
Dave rolled to the side of her and they lay beside each other on the bed, gasping for breath and holding hands. The wedding was in two months, Lana thought. People would probably talk, when the baby came. Let them talk. She turned towards Dave and kissed him.
"Thank you," she said softly.
He kissed her back and pulled her into his arms, and another few minutes later they tried again.