It’s incredibly silent, and as I work I sing quietly. I’m a good singer; always have been. Music and arts were always my talent, and while I cut, glue, arrange, and tidy everything up, I entertain myself with a moody and dissonant tune I picked up from some random Lisa Gerrard soundtrack. It’s missing the accompaniment that belongs with the song, but I can hear it in my head.
My mind wanders to Jordan, and I use the peace and solitude to fantasize about him. He’s not made love to me since Friday night, and I’m starved for him. How on earth did I survive without sex before he came along? I’ve decided I’m quite a fan of it actually, and I push away the idea I’ll lose him completely in a few weeks. If I would just receive some interest from some firm in Chicago, I would have an income and a reason, other than him, to stay. He’s reason enough, but I can’t attach my future to the one-night-stand man simply in want for sex. But of course that’s not all I want. I crave him, I need him, I love him. Sex aside, I need him in my life for reasons that go far deeper. He’s instilled a confidence in me I didn’t have before. He believes in me, and he wants me to succeed as much as I do. There is no jealousy, cattiness, resentment, or any other of a million awful human emotions he could feel for my abilities. He cares as much about my success as he does his own.
As I finish my song and start in on another, I look up to see him standing in the doorway, and I shriek in surprise. He’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded and his incredible smile. He chuckles as I fidget in embarrassment. He saunters across the room and leans to my mouth. When he’s finished with my lips, he nibbles his way along my jawline to my ear. “You have an amazing voice. I had no idea you could sing so well.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Playing hooky. Besides, Charles likes Bridget. It was the perfect way to nudge them together. They’re playing together with another group, and I told them I needed to catch up to a client at another job site and slipped out before we ever got started. So … I’m all yours for the afternoon, and I’m assuming it’s safe to touch you now without you acting like your body is radioactive.” He’s smirking, and I’m smiling. My body is warming with every word he speaks, and as his hand moves to my waist, clutching me and pulling me to his body, warmth and wetness flood to my core.
Pulling me over to an incredibly oversized mirror at least twelve feet tall and eight or so feet wide, he takes his place behind me and nibbles and kisses at my neck. The mirror is propped against the far wall of the room where the fabrics section is located. His mouth continues to work as his eyes hold mine. His body is held tight to mine, and his erection pushes into my back.
His hands move to my shoulders as they pull my gray cardigan down my shoulders and off my arms. He tosses it on a nearby couch before returning his hands to my shirt. Reaching around from his place behind me, he slowly works my buttons free of their buttonholes, and I watch his every move. His eyes remain fixed on mine, and his erection remains hard against my back. When he’s pulled my shirt from my body and tossed it away as well, he begins to unbutton the three buttons at the neck of his polo shirt, and I turn to help him. He drops his hands as mine take over, and he leans to my mouth again, plunging his tongue between my lips to my silken warmth. He touches and strokes my tongue with his own while my hands work at his neck and then pull his shirt off over his head.
I run my hand down his chest to his stomach and revel in his tightened and quivering stomach muscles as my hand passes over his skin and innervates his desire further. He’s wearing straight-front black pants that are far more casual than he generally wears, and the bulge of his erection is easy to see. When I reach for the button of his pants, a sigh passes his lips, and as I lower the zipper of his pants and reach within to the rigid, large length of him, his contented sigh turns to a loud and low groan that emanates from the depths of his gut. I stroke with gentle, slow movements as his head drops to my shoulder and his hands reach for my bottom. He strokes and kneads the skin of my cheeks through my pants, pulling my groin to his. His breathing is quickening, and as it does he stills my hand and turns my body to face the mirror once more.
He’s again watching my eyes in the reflection, and as my wetness builds and my body tingles, his hands move to the button of my pants. He undoes the button, lowers the zipper, and hooking his fingers under the waist of my pants and underwear, he pulls them down, sinking to his knees behind my body. He slips the cuff of my pants over my black heels, leaving me standing nearly naked in only my bra and my favorite pointy-toed black heels with ankle straps.
Before he stands behind me, he spends time rubbing and kissing the round cheeks of my bottom and then kissing trails over my back on his way back to standing. When he unhooks my bra and slides it down my arms, I comment, “You like a lady naked in heels, huh?”
“I like you naked, with or without heels … but the heels will give you some needed height right now.” He winks as I wonder, and then he continues. “Condoms are a fabulous fabulous thing, but you can’t imagine how much I’m looking forward to making love to you with nothing at all between our skin.” With that, he leaves me standing alone, my gaze trailing after him. He grabs a dark moss green velvet occasional chair that sits along a nearby wall, and returning to me, he sets the chair next to my hip. “Sit. Please.”
I do as he asks and am now sitting facing the gigantic mirror. He finishes undressing and moves to stand behind me, leaning to my ear. “Scoot your bottom to the edge of the seat and lean back. I comply as he pinches my nipples. He holds the pinch as the arousing pain builds in my body, and just as the pain builds to an intense ache he releases them both and rubs gently as the blood rushes into my breasts. “Spread your legs.” Now I’m nervous. I’m facing the largest mirror I’ve ever seen that plays out our actions in explicit detail. But however hesitant I may be, I do as he asks, shaking in nervousness.
His hand moves down my stomach to the lips of my vagina. He parts the lips of my sex, and whispers in my ear. “You are so beautiful. I know you’re nervous, but you don’t need to be.” His finger dips into my entry, testing my wetness before plunging in all the way. I gasp as his finger thrusts into me. He’s watching over my shoulder, and his parted lips and intense gaze reassure me he’s okay with seeing me so prone and vulnerable.
When he’s finished with his thrusting and my body is beyond ready, he stops and runs his lingering finger between my lips to trail a glistening path of wetness in its wake. Standing, he rounds my body, with a subtle smirk. I want to sit to touch him, but before I can move he lowers himself to the floor in front of me. He’s facing me, sitting somewhat cross-legged, lounging on one hand with his opposite knee up and his elbow rested casually on his knees. He’s studying my sex, and he caresses my folds and parts my skin as he takes in every inch of me. I have the most incredible view of his body from this vantage point, and it’s this image I study as his mouth moves to my body and starts laving and tormenting my most sensitive bundle of nerves.
His back is strong and muscular, the skin smooth and unblemished. He’s sitting, but his strong and round bottom is easily seen, and as my eyes follow the contour of his body, my body readies itself for release. His knee is up, and I can follow his entire line from his bottom up his strong thigh, over his knee and back down his calf to his foot. His body is beautiful—strong and lean and perfectly proportioned. His mouth continues to lick and suck at me, and as my gaze finally leaves his body and drops to his, he’s already looking at me. He pulls back from my sex with my wetness glistening on his lips and smiles a seductive and knowing smile. “Looking at something?” I let out a quick embarrassed laugh before his mouth latches to me again, and within moments I’m crying out in my orgasm. My stomach contracts and my body pulls in on itself as every muscle in my body tightens, and he watches.