put my hand on his cock and said, ‘Well, I’d like to say about nine –’
A high, manic burble came out of me and then I snorted. Dear God. ‘Not that,’ I said. ‘How long have you been … interested?’
‘That’s what you want to know?’ He cocked his head when he said it and it gave him an endearing quality. He pushed me gently with just his fingertips and I sat down a bit too hard on the ice chest. I heard bits of old wood break free from under the porch and fall to the yard. The whole deck was shattered. Just like my nerves.
My heart rate picked up speed again but I noticed the steady wet thump in my cunt was almost unbearably pleasant. As scared as I was.
‘Yes. That’s what I want to know.’
He got on his knees in front of me, taking his own sweet time. He nudged my thighs apart. The streetlight from below lit the right side of his face a cool blue, while the light from the kitchen lit the left a warm yellow. He was an angel, a demon, a new lover I’d fantasised about.
‘Since day one,’ he said, lowering his mouth to my navel, kissing me so that I wanted to shiver and shift, but then the deck creaked and I was too afraid. ‘In fact, one night I got off not once but twice, just thinking about kissing you for hours.’
‘Oh,’ I said as he kissed lower. And then ‘Oh’ again as his mouth settled on my pussy. He sucked my outer lips one at a time in a slow and deliberate way and when he finally slipped his tongue into my wet folds and found me at my centre, I gripped the hard plastic lid of the ice chest with shaking fingers.
John put his fingers in me again, curling slow, making me beg with small subtle thrusts of my hips. He sucked my clitoris, making the small muscles in my abdomen flutter and dance.
‘Is it that important?’
‘Yes. No … Yes.’
He chuckled, hot breath rushing over my sex. ‘Make up your mind, Miss Maggie.’
‘No,’ I finally decided.
‘And you?’ He licked long wet stripes over my flesh and paused every so often to press the flat of his tongue to the hard knot of my clit. The moment my body would go slack, he’d give me a wet circle or swirl or suckle so that I’d go tense again.
‘Me what?’ I gasped, finally remembering his question.
‘How long – if at all – were you interested in me?’
‘From the moment I saw you,’ I said. No point in lying.
He gave a single nod as if to say, That’s settled …
‘Now back to this imaginary bed,’ he said.
I was enraptured by his eyes in this light. And his voice. And the steady thrum of my body in response to what he was doing.
‘Yes, my gypsy bed. Layers and layers of bright fabric and yummy cushioning.’
‘Exactly. See, I can picture you out here, in the twilight, a glass of wine or iced tea.’ As he spoke he ran the head of his dick from my clit to my wet opening. Then a bit farther back. Only to drag it all the way back up through my moisture. When he teased my clitoris with his wet tip, my body shuddered and again the porch groaned. I grabbed his biceps, white-knuckling it.
‘Hey now, would I be out here with you if I thought we were –’
‘Going to die?’ I blurted.
‘In danger,’ he said and grunted. His cock made that wet journey again and I forgot to be afraid again.
‘Wine,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘It would be wine. I’d have.’
‘Ah yes, wine,’ he said, slipping just the tip of himself in me and staying that way. Stretching that ring of muscle, making my pussy want to draw him in and clamp down on him. Instead I tried to breathe and hold on. ‘And then, as I was saying, I’d find you there with your wine.’
A kiss on my belly as he curved his back. And yet he did not move his hips. He did not drive into me.
‘I’d find you with your wine and I’d do what I just did. Part those pretty white thighs and eat your pussy. Until you came. And then, pretty lady, I’d put myself between those thighs …’
Still he didn’t move. And I couldn’t breathe. My cunt clenched, trying to get more friction, failing.
‘And I’d fuck you until you said my name. More than once.’
‘Please,’ I said.
‘Please what?’
‘Please don’t torture me,’ I said with a laugh.
‘Like this?’ He slipped into me fully, filling and stretching me and finally, blissfully, kissing me. I grasped his face and let him bully my mouth with his even as he moved.
The porch groaned, some dead wood fell, my eyes flew open and I saw again the pinpoint dots of holes in the wood, backlit by the street lamps.
‘Shh,’ he said, gripping my hips hard and thrusting into me. ‘We’re fine. I promise.’
I wrapped my leg around his waist and tugged him to me even as he moved that way anyway. Long and thick, he touched nerve endings in me that were long dormant and very greedy. A thick rush of warm pleasure filled my pelvis and I groaned.
‘We won’t fall,’ he said.
‘It’s not that,’ I whispered, dragging my hands down his big arms, over his broad back, only to plunge them back into his short wheat-coloured hair.
‘Then what?
‘You’re big.’
He laughed.
‘And thick.’
This time he was silent and his breathing went harsh.
‘And perfect,’ I said.
John Frost thrust hard and his pelvic bone smacked my swollen clit and I came. I didn’t expect it, I was swimming in a viscous syrup of pleasure, but that extra startling stimulation drove me over the edge.
He stilled. ‘Christ.’
‘What? What?’ I babbled as my body continued to milk out every delicious drop of bliss.
‘I don’t want to come yet,’ he said, kissing my nipple, my collar bone, my chest. He stayed still, no doubt to stave off his orgasm.
I pushed my palms against the ice chest and he moved back when I tried to stand.
‘Where you going?’
‘Losing my mind.’ I leaned forward briefly, seeing the edges of the deck where the wood was the most shattered. The thin places that were
