Chapter 8 - Sara
I can feel the vibration coming up through the desk drawer. My fingers itch to reach for it, but I resist the long minutes until the bell rings overhead letting out class. Only having a few minutes before my next group of students start to file in, I grab for it eagerly with a smile, but my smile soon vanishes.
I can’t make it tonight.
The rest of the day seems to drag, and when I do leave for the day, something wanes in me when I don’t see him waiting for me. I know he already said he wouldn’t be here, but I wasn’t expecting to feel this upset about it.
After arriving home I expect to feel somewhat better after the long day, but now that he’s been here in my space there’s an echo of all that we’ve done. Why did I think bringing him here was a good idea? Now that he’s got what he wants he may very well not come back. It was most likely my break down that I had right in front of him! What was I thinking?
Brushing the thought aside I head to the kitchen to fix something quick to eat, and tonight I decide calls for a side of wine. A turkey sandwich, cheese, lettuce, mayo thrown in, and yep red wine. It’s Friday night, I’ve got nothing planned for tomorrow besides grading papers so I think this is exactly what I need. I plop down in front of the TV, eat my sandwich while some trashy movie plays, and wine…there were at least three or four glasses involved before I got really comfortable on my couch.
Somewhere in between Stacy calls. I was at that inebriated state where I would just let loose anything that popped into my head. So she got the good, the dirty and the doubtful concerns that were rummaging through my brain.
I'm not sure what woke me, but at 2:30 am not much phased me, I was going back to sleep, but this time in my bed. Trying to work out the stitch in my neck, I make my way to my bedroom. Deciding to take all my clothes off and turn around to just put more on just to fall asleep was wasteful. So I strip my skirt, my flowy blouse, and stay in the lacy number I had decided to put on before work, thinking I’d have someone other than myself enjoying it and get under the covers. It’s minutes before I’m asleep again.
This time I know what’s woken me, there is an insistent knock coming from my front door, and whoever is standing behind it better have a good reason. It's only 9 am, the only day during the week I get to sleep in, and my drinking last night has given me the most pounding of headaches.
I blindly reach for my robe that hangs by my bed side and throw it over myself. Again with the knocking, whoever it is they will be lucky if they aren’t dead when I get there. I call that I’m coming, but they must not hear me using my inside voice. This time they don’t knock, no they do something much worse. The doorbell, and it doesn’t just go off in my home. My head is pounding to the loud abrasive sound. Picking up the pace to the door, I swing it open. Before I can control my face it’s scowling hard at the person on my front stoop. The squinting that I have to do because of the sun probably doesn’t help the look. Jesus Christ no more wine for me.
“What happened to you?” Vince asks concernedly.
For a long second I could only stare at Vince. In one hand a bouquet of beautiful flowers, and in the other something delicious I smelt from here. My tummy growled. I'm surprised after last night food sounds good at all.
Vince laughed, and I winced, “Oh Sorry,” he began but I held up my hand.
“No need, you didn’t shove that bottle of wine down my throat last night.”
“The whole bottle?” he thankfully whispers.
“Very nearly. Come in,” I left the door open and headed to the kitchen.
“Where are your vases?” he strolls while asking.
“Second cabinet closest to the stove on the right,” I speak quickly.
He sets the box of yummy in front of me, “You should inspect these while I take care of these flowers.”
I nod, but I wait till he starts across the room to investigate. The smell alone has my stomach trying to crawl up my throat, “Oh my god, what are these? They smell so good.”
“Those, my dear are freshly baked pastries from the baker in town. She makes the greatest in all the surrounding counties, at least that is what I’ve heard, and so I bought a variety for us to try.”
He starts to open cabinets even though the flowers are now displayed on the kitchen table in my nicest glass vase, “What are you looking for?” I ask.
“Coffee,” he says.
“Oh god bless you, the cabinet above the coffee maker,” I mumble as I rub my eyes.
He searches the counter, “Which ones the coffee maker?”
“Oh, have you never used a single cup brewer before?” when he looks at me like I’ve grown two heads I get up to show him where the pods were stored and then how to work the machine. He catches on quickly, and by the time he’s done I might have had one too many cups filled but between the two of us it wouldn’t go to waste.
I point to the little pastry in my fibers, “Oh my god these are delicious, which one is this?”
“I think that’s the raspberry ginger muffin.”
“Mhhh so good. What's yours?”
“I’m not sure, here take a bite,” he leans forward toward my mouth.
“Oh my, it tastes like what October should taste like,” stating with a mouthful.
He laughs, and leans back again, “And what should October taste like?”
“Pumpkins, cinnamon spice, and everything nice,” I smile.
“Well then this I suppose qualifies.”
“Do you like the coffee?” I ask.
“I do, if I ever have the spare cash I think I’m going to buy me one of those machines.”
“Well you need to ask yourself, can you limit yourself to one cup a day? Those things add up, the pods I mean. I never seem to have enough for the amount I need.”
“Then it’s not for me, my daily quota never goes below two cups a day.”
“Two is my limit. I’d be too wired if I had any more than that.”
“If you had a teenager under your roof then you’d have a different answer,” he says with confidence.
“You’re right it may very well be,” if things had been different I would have an almost ten year old by now. The thought sobers me, and I’m not quite sure how to get myself to thinking about something else. I turn my head to look over at him to try and discuss something, anything else, and he kisses me. He knows, at least I think he always knows when my mind is somewhere else, and he finds a way to bring me back to him. I’m not sure if it’s him being selfish, but I don’t care, it's exactly what I need.
I groan into his mouth, “Mmmhhh you taste like October and coffee,” I swallow his response as I press further into him, and make our tongues dance.
He pulls away just as things were getting heated, and kisses me on my nose before he straightens once more, “Won’t you tell me what you were celebrating last night that had you drinking a whole bottle of wine?”
“Not celebrating trust me, I thought…never mind it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
“Sure it does. I give a damn what goes on in that mind of yours. Tell me,” he says sincerely.
“It’s silly now, but I thought you were purposefully avoiding me,” I avoid eye contact.
He blinks and says nothing for a long second, “Are you a closet alcoholic? Do I have to worry every time I can’t see you that you’ll drink yourself into a stupor?”
I may very well think about it in the future; But, waking this morning will be a great reminder to drink responsibly. I snort, “No, of course not,” which was true, I'd never be drinking that much in one night again, one or two glasses is my limit.
“Why do I get the feeling to not trust you?” He smirks.
“I’d be asking yourself that question.”
“No I think I’m asking you,” he teases.
“I refuse to become a broken record,” I roll my eyes.
“A broken records of lies?”
I snort, “Jesus you’re suspicious.”
“No, I just have a really good bullshit meter, and you have tells.”
I snort again, “Well aren’t you full of yourself, and what do you mean I have tells?”
“You had several. I am a part of an MC club you know, one of the rules is to not lie to one another, so when someone is stupid enough to do so it’s easy to pick it out.”
“Alright, tell me all knowing one, where did I mess up that you assume I’m lying in the first place.”
“First of all, you paused before answering as if you had to think about your response. Which could have been that you needed a minute to consider, but I doubt it as you're quick on your feet. Your eyes also shifted away from me during your answer. Last but not least you have a tendency of biting your thumb when you are nervous, which I suspect this time you were nervous about your response,” I scowl at my thumb, just like the traitor it is. I hadn't even realized I had put it between my teeth. There's only one thing to do now...I stand.
Untying the belt at my waist I let the rest of the robe slide down my body to the floor. His eyes roam, taking in every inch, leaving goose bumps as if he were touching, he licks his lips and rubs his mouth with a hand, and slowly gets to his feet.
“That is a very valid point, but don’t think you’ve won just yet,” he grabs hold of my waist and brings me against his body; we are a breath away from one another. His eyes focus in on mine, “This is an intermission,” his eyes are intense.
Grabbing hold of one of the straps to my bra I tug it down and let it fall. He glances to my strap, and when our eyes reconnect they are ablaze, “again great argument, but no way are we done.”
My hand reaches for the back, unclasping and letting the lacy red fabric fall to the floor. Again his eyes focus on the revealed flesh, this time he doesn’t look back up.
“Fuck it, you win,” his mouth takes in the closest nipple. My head falls back and I let out a victorious groan.
“I like winning,” I can’t help the smile that mingles with the surprised yelp I let out as his teeth nip a little too hard. He quickly licks the sting better but the message is received loud and clear.
“You only won because I like fucking you better. You should learn to win with grace rather than boast,“ apparently he couldn’t just leave it unspoken. I hum in satisfaction, and thrust my nipple back into his open mouth. A second goes by noting his hesitation, but he takes it and lavishes it with attention.
His hand travels down further from my waist to the triangle of fabric covering the apex of my thighs, tangling his fingers in the sides of it, my body tenses thinking of what will come next, but end up shocked when he tears it straight off my body. I had a mind to protest, but his mouth was on mine, my ass in his hands yanking me up along side his body, my legs coming around automatically, and we were heading down the hall. I wish I could say that I finally said something to him when my mouth was released, but instead I realize going commando would be even more effective if ever we had an argument again. I may have to forgo panties all the time to test my theory.
Placing me on the bed he stares down at me, relinquishes his clothes to the floor and I don’t blame him, I wanted them off even more than he did. The moment his erection frees itself from the confines of his jeans, my mouth waters at the sight, and my insides tighten as he grasps at it pumping once. Jesus this man could turn me on without even touching me. I’d do anything to touch him so casually, to grasp him as he is grasping himself, to know what touches he likes, to own each and every orgasm this man had with or without out me from now on. My tongue snakes out wanting to taste that sensual skin once again. He pumps himself once again, and I groan aloud. I might not have intended to but that is how I feel, it’s physically painful to watch and not take part.
“Do you want this Sara?” his voice comes out tight, and low.
Mine is just a pant, “Yes.”
“Get on your knees and show me just how much.”
I won’t be told twice, and I don’t think I’ll even need to be. I’ve enjoyed blowjobs before, but with him it’s different somehow. More pleasurable for me, maybe because he hides nothing even though I’m the one on my knees in a compromised position.
His groan I answer with one of my own as I crest the head into my mouth. Still the same sweet yet salty taste, the best of both worlds hits my tongue and I could stay here long after he’s ready to come. But when the moment arrives that I’ve tasted, licked, and teased bringing him to the brink his skin growing so tight, his ball jerking upwards in preparation, he pulls from me. His breath comes out in pants, and I look into his face with what I know has to be bewilderment, and maybe a little frustration. Ok a lot of frustration.
“Get on the bed,” he commands.
I shake my head and try and reach for the precome at the tip of his erection, but with one quick movement he has me up, and as if I weigh nothing tosses me onto the bed.
“When I come I’m going to be so far up that cunt of yours you’ll feel me for days.”
Getting to his own knees, he yanks me down by my thighs, and his mouth is on me before I have time to steady myself. Letting my head fall back into the tangled sheets, I let myself get lost in the strokes that make me molten inside. He is skilled with his tongue, and when he changes strokes or changes the pressure it’s exactly when I need him too. Soon I am so close, gripping the bed sheets below me for some kind of rein, bucking my hips in time with his languid strokes at my nub, and at the second I’m about to let go he moves away. My body doesn’t care that I cry out in frustration, my insides pulse, my eyes tightly shut against the onslaught, so when he plunges inside of me I’m caught by surprise. I’m not even done with the orgasm he’s already brought, but as he plunges inside of me again with purpose another roars up right behind it, crashing over me without a breath in between. This time instead of frustration I cry out in pleasure.
“That’s right Sara come for me. Jesus you’re so fucking beautiful,” he starts to pound into me even harder. His hands digging hard into my hips keeping me in place, but I would not have gone anywhere even if he asked. As he angles himself slightly downward the tip of him rams into my g-spot and only a few thrusts more I’m coming for a third time. Never in my life have I ever come this much within such a short amount of time. It’s amazing the power this man holds over my body.
“Fuck,” I say between clenched teeth, as I feel the first prick of tears as the orgasm slowly ebbs away. The edge of another is there, and I’m not sure if I could handle any more. Thankfully I won’t have to find out because a few seconds, and thrusts later he comes with a shout. Crying when being fucked would not have been good no matter how you look at it.
He pulls out after what seems like forever and lies next to me on the bed. We lay there for several minutes in complete silence. I know that for me it is to catch my breath, nothing so far in my life had prepared me for what just happened. I’m not sure if that was sad or if he was just that good. Shifting I gaze at the beautiful man lying besides me. His eyes are closed, his body relaxed, his dick softening against his stomach. His dick was also something else. I jolt up in bed, my hand going straight for the fluid that is too much to be just my own.
“Shit,” when I look back, his eyes already open his body propped up on his elbows.
“What?”
“We didn’t use a condom.”
His eyes grow wide, “Oh shit, I’m sorry I was so caught up in the moment and forgot. Are you not on anything?”
“No. I haven’t exactly been regularly sexually active up until yesterday. There has been no reason.”
“I’ve never forgotten before, taking care of Teddy was the best reminder to be careful with this sort of thing. Well fuck what do you want to do?” he says solemnly.
I could feel the tears building in the back of my throat. The panic starts to rise, the instinct to run and get out before he can is so strong that I shift and get off the bed to collect my robe still laying on the kitchen floor. I don’t hear him behind me, but I feel his eyes on me. Going to the table where my coffee still waits for me I sit. I'm surprised to find it still warm. I gesture to the seat across from me, and I see his jean clad legs before he takes it.
“You realize the odds of anything happening from one slip up is unlikely right?”
“It's not that. I didn’t tell you everything. I need to tell you why he left.”
For a second he looks confused, “The MC guy in Chicago?” his eyes clear the moment I nod.
“I got pregnant,” sorrow instantly overwhelms me.
“Ummm OK, but what does that have to do with him leaving?” Vince asks.
“He accused me of sleeping around, and it couldn’t be his. It was, I swear it was,” I could feel the familiar panic rise.
“I believe you,” his face doesn’t change from the intense one he’s had since I've started talking, and I believe him. The panic starts to ebb away again.
“No one else did. He told lie after lie until no one from the club would listen. I was young and naïve and I pushed harder than I should have which didn’t help my case. I had to leave town. They were making my living there unbearable, and I wasn’t going to get any help, not even from my parents. They never approved of my relationship in the first place. Thankfully I was just out of high school. I applied to several colleges, and I went to the first that accepted my late submission,” when I didn’t speak for a long minute, he asked the question I was preparing myself to answer.
“So where’s your kid?”
“I lost it. I was about five months along.”
“Shit I’m a tactless bastard,” he reaches out taking my hand, “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s OK, It’s been years ago, but I thought you should know,” I look at him for a long moment, “You know I haven’t been with anyone else right?”
“Yeah I know,” he rubs a thumb against the back of my hand, “I’m glad you told me, and I think I see why you are worried, but I still need to know what you want to do.”
I shrug. Touched he even still cares, “I don’t think there is anything for you or even I to do right now. It’s a waiting game from here, and I’ll have to wait until I either have my period or a positive pregnancy test to call the doctor to make an appointment. But if I'm not I'll get on the pill right away so we won't have to worry about this again.”
“No matter what, we’ll be alright. Now come on, I'm not done with you or making up for not seeing you yesterday,” he gives me a wicked smile, and despite my worries my body heats for him. When he holds out his hand for mine I take it. Maybe to forget for a little while the old pain, and the fresh fears, or maybe no matter what mood my body seems to want his. By the end of the day still in bed with this man I couldn't reason why I had followed him, but anyone that makes me feel this satisfied, worn out, and has the ability to turn off my brain I’d follow him to the ends of the earth.