When Ken slid his hand down the front of Alicia’s jeans, she reared, trusting her hips upward and spreading her legs to meet his invading fingertips. He eased her back to coach with the admonition, “Easy, easy, Alicia...” He laughed softly at her protesting moan. “I want this as much as you do, but...” He glanced at the hallway down which all the bedrooms lay.
“Fuck,” Alicia hissed, flexing upwards to follow his gaze. She lay stretched out on the couch, propped atop assorted thin pillows. She wore tight jeans, a tight blue and white top, and her belt buckle and brassiere remained tightly secured. The hands on the clock neither could easily read said 11:42 pm. It was Friday night, February 8, 2019.
“Did you hear something?” she asked anxiously.
Alicia was 32 years old, with a 12 year old son, and an 8 year old daughter. William and Sarah were safely ensconced in bed, though Ken had serious doubts either were asleep yet--William, especially. He worried that William might be listening at his bedroom door.
“No, but we need to stay in control out here, so we don’t wake them up.”
“Fuck,” Alicia whispered again, frustrated.
Alicia was separated from her husband, Lawrence. 2 years younger than his co-worker, Ken was divorced for 3 years now. He had worked at the office for 6 years; Alicia had started 2 years ago, leaving her job at Kenworth in Stanton to put distance between she, the kids, and her in-laws. Lawrence she simply disliked; she loathed her truculent in-laws.
They’d shared only one lunch hour before tonight; that was on Wednesday. He’d asked her Wednesday morning, and alarmed, she’d said no. She’d said no to seeing him tonight, also, at first. However, unexpectedly changing her mind just before the end of work today, she acquiesced. Alicia was tremendously nervous about dating anyone, Ken especially. Ken wasn’t her type, at all. She certainly wasn’t his, she thought.
Alicia had her arms around Ken’s neck. “I need another beer,” she muttered, trying to sit up. “And some more weed.”
Earlier, they’d shared two excellent joints of marijuana on the balcony. The frigid northwest wind had dispelled the smoke as soon as it left their mouths, taking the smell with it. Each had brought a bottle of Heineken with them onto the balcony, but neither had dared take a sip. It was the first time Alicia allowed Ken to embrace her. It was pretty innocent, considering how bundled up they were in winter coats, knit caps, gloves, and scarves. She stiffened regardless.
“I can let go and retreat to my side of the balcony,” Ken joked.
Alicia laughed in embarrassment. She remained stiff, but she didn’t wiggle free of his grip. It was only his left arm around her waist, anyway. She glanced at him peripherally. “I’m not sure about this, Ken.”
“I was surprised you changed your mind, Alicia. I figured you were seeing someone else, and just went to lunch with me Wednesday out of politeness.”
The lunch on Wednesday was awkward and stiff, Alicia unable to relax, Ken frustrated and tongue-tied by her reticence. In direct opposition to their normal banter during work hours, they talked about nothing even remotely personal, and flirtation remained non-existent. She’d also remained uptight and fidgety all evening tonight. Ken hadn’t known what to expect, slipping his arm around her waist.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” she said.
“Me either,” he said. “I’m surprised you’re not, though.”
“Why?” she said, taking a cautious hit. She obviously feared anything that might affect her defenses. She’d drunk only 3 beers over 5 hours.
“Because you are a sexual magnet,” he replied, laughing. “Have you looked at yourself in a mirror?”
“I attract all the wrong guys,” she said stiffly. “And one look at my chest usually turns them away, anyway.” She was small up top, Ken had to admit. It surprised him to hear anything from her remotely personal tonight, though. Prior to Wednesday, she joked about anything and everything. Since Wednesday, they related like strangers. He wisely said nothing in response to her admission.
“I’m the wrong guy, but for different reasons, aren’t I?”
Alicia took a second shallow hit on the joint and passed it along. She remained silent as Ken took a hit. The weed was hers, surprisingly. More surprisingly, she had suggested sharing a joint on the balcony. The evening up to that point was nerve-wracking for them both.
Ken had two choices: let her go, or tighten his grip around her waist. Maintaining the same pressure with his arm had grown embarrassingly weird. Instead, he asked: “Do you like me at all, Alicia?”
She stiffened more, hunching her shoulders defensively. Ken prepared to let her go and give up for the evening.
“Yes. But this is all wrong, Ken.”
“I’m not your type.”
“It’s not that—” She half turned toward him, and then away again. “I don’t have a type, anyway.”
Ken snorted and took a second hit. He also pulled her a hair closer, which she didn’t rebel against. She didn’t react at all but to grip the balcony rail with her left hand.
“Co-workers shouldn’t date.”
“It’s how my wife and I met,” Ken admitted. And what ended them too, though he didn’t say that.
“Every guy I’ve dated from work ended up a total disaster. The relationship did, anyway. I don’t mean the guys were. Though, most of them were,” she said, laughing.
Age brings experience and hopefully wisdom, he thought. Two children had a maturing effect on a person, also. Ken had none, but Alicia had been a mom since her 20th birthday.
“We’re older and wiser, now. How much do you weigh, anyway?”
Alicia blinked at the question. “How much do I weigh? Why?”
“You are the skinniest girl I know with 2 kids.” He passed her back the joint, laughing. “I always call girls, girls, so don’t take offense. You look like a girl, anyway.”
Alicia laughed depreciatively. “I look like a cow, but thank you for lying.”
He tightened his grip on her waist. She didn’t object and took a hit off the joint, a slightly deeper one. “What I weigh is my business. You don’t ask a girl how much she weighs, Kenneth. Not if you want to have sex with her.”
He laughed. “I withdraw my question!” Then: “You’re not gonna have sex with me, anyway, so give.”
She took another hit and handed him the near-roach. “122 pounds, if you want to know. I weighed myself this morning, so that is an accurate measurement. Then again, my scale usually under-weighs me by 20 pounds.”
He sighed dramatically. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”
She laughed. And though it wasn’t a ‘snuggle against him’ movement, she did shift her weight, letting him draw her incrementally closer. “It is so fucking cold out here. Let’s go inside, Ken.”
Instead, she dug a second joint from her coat pocket and handed it to Ken to light. He could tell from her flushed face and loosened posture, that something, either he or the pot, was having a beneficial effect on her. He hoped it was him, but suspected the weed.
“How old are you, Ken?”
The question caught him by surprise. “30. Can I safely ask your age in return?”
Alicia accepted the joint and put it between her lips. “You’re younger than me, wow. I’ve never dated a guy younger than me before. I’m 32,” she said, filling her lungs.
He’d suspected her age was 32. He thought William was 12 years old, but she hadn’t confirmed that yet, only that she had him on her 20th birthday. It bothered him a little that she was 2 years older than he.
“Effing manther,” he joked, pulling her closer.
For the first time, she giggled, and did snuggle closer, though mainly to assault him with her hip in reprimand. The whole exchange made his temperature rise and heart beat harder. He almost kissed her, but she balked and turned away, stiffening again. “Sorry,” he muttered, loosening his arm. “No I’m not, dammit.” He maneuvered her around to face him.
“Kiss me, or tell me, Kenneth, I don’t want that. Or, I don’t want it now, but maybe later, after we go back inside. Or, maybe after a couple more hits off this fucking joint, and the pot has its way with me.” She laughed in embarrassment. “Or maybe tomorrow, or the next day, but not tonight, Kenneth.”
“How about I just say I’ll never like you enough to kiss you, and you should go home.” Before he could react, she darted forward and pecked his lips a quick kiss. Then she kissed him again, this time forming a thin seal to his lips before pulling back. “I like you, or I wouldn’t have gone out with you tonight, Ken.”
“But...” he added, despite his excitement at her unexpected kisses.
He sighed. “You are so fucking difficult.” Then he brightened. “You never dated a guy younger than you, you said. Does that mean we’re dating?”
She placed the joint between his lips again. “Unless you fuck things up tonight, I’ll consider saying yes if you ask me out again. How’s that?”
“I like you, too. A lot. I can say that, right?”
She smirked. “You’d have to, in order to want to date me. Most guys are scared off by my kids.”
“You scare me a hell of a lot more than your kids. You intimidate the crap out of me, Alicia. Do you know how hard it was to put my arm around you, just now? Do you know how hard it was to ask you out?”
“I intimidate you?”
He laughed harshly. “Jesus, you use intimidation as a weapon. You make me feel like a fucking pimply-faced 10th grader.”
“That was me,” she said, snuggling closer. “I was the pimply-faced 10th grader.”
“Who still fought off the boys.” He placed his other arm around her waist, but pulled her no closer. She couldn’t encounter his raging hard-on, not if he wanted the evening to progress, stagger-step, or not. It embarrassed him how badly out of control he was.
“Certain types of boys. I never dated anyone that didn’t come from the wrong side of the tracks, Ken.”
“Guys who intimidated me as much as you do now,” he clarified. He mentally flinched but remained rigid after she brushed his bulging crotch through her coat. His coat came only to his waist and offered no protection against sexual assault. Thankfully, hers was longer.
“They intimidated me, too. That’s why I went out with them.” She shifted, keeping safely away from his protuberance, but snuggling closer from the waist up. “You don’t intimidate me at all. Ken.”
Which only intimidates me more, he thought, moving his arms higher to encircle her back.
Neither he, nor Alicia, could imagine how things would play out between them tonight.
“I’ll get you a beer,” he whispered. “You just lay there.”
She gazed at him, amused and borderline indignant. She didn’t like being told what to do. His answering grin, wryly observant of her reaction, made her grin wider. She pushed him away with a hand in the chest. “I can get my own beer, thank you.”
“Sure you can, but I like seeing you lie there.”
“All submissive and sexy,” she quipped. He watched her rearrange on the couch, but not attempt to sit up. Her repositioning only made her look more fetching. She really did make his blood pressure soar. “I also need to go the bathroom,” she added.
“That’s different,” he whispered, extending a hand. “The last thing I want you is in any kind of discomfort.”
“Or getting a UTI,” she said, sitting up. Her color was high, and he could see the rapid beat of her heart through her tight knit shirt, at her temples, and at the base of her throat. Only an hour ago, he thought he’d lost her on the balcony.
“I’ll get you a beer, anyway.”
“Want to join me?”
He grinned at her obvious taunt. Despite half an hour of consistently more aggressive necking, she still had him intimidated and he still feared offending and losing her. He had hardly a clue what not to say to the girl. Everything he said put her slightly on edge. It shocked him how she responded to his hand down the front of her jeans, though; it shocked him that he’d done it. More shocking, she proved to be baby-smooth to his fingertips, not a suggestion of pubic hair. Was that normal for Alicia? A shudder ran down his spine.
“What?’ she asked.
You actually had your hand down the front of her jeans and inside her panties, he thought. For an instant he’d fingered her bare labia, her lips silky smooth, the cleft between them shockingly moist. His middle finger encountered her vagina for just an instant as she’d spread her thighs. Holy shit, the way she reacted to his touch.
Impulsively, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He kissed her. She kissed him back, still amused.
“You haven’t gotten the message yet that I like you, Ken?”
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I can’t believe that you like me. Do you understand how much I don’t know what to say to you?”
Smirking, she moved sinuously back and forth in his arms. “I like you off center and unsure of yourself. It keeps me in control.”
He drew her closer. The intensity of his need for her was unmistakable. She had compulsively grabbed his crotch when he put his hand down her jeans; she knew exactly how badly he wanted her.
“We can’t do it tonight,” she whispered. “We can’t.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t, ever,” she clarified. “Just not with William and Sarah in the apartment.”
He tentatively placed a hand on her behind. When she didn’t stiffen or bat it away, he said: “I’m absolutely fine with ‘That doesn’t mean we can’t, ever’.” Can I say admiring things about your body, or pay you compliments without you taking offense?”
She laughed softly. “I’m glad you know to ask.” She moved her rear end beneath his hand, also sinuously.
“Can I tell you I want to fuck you more than I want to win tomorrows $224 million dollar Power Ball?”
She stiffened this time, but then relaxed. It surprised him that she still swayed in his arms. “Did you actually play it?” He nodded, and she continued. “If you fuck me before tomorrow night at 10:55 pm, and you win the jackpot, then you have to pay me half the money, Ken.”
He laughed, delighted. “That’s the most expensive fuck in history,” he said, without thinking. She laughed, but smacked his hand off her rear end.
“It would be the most expensive fuck in history, you’re right. And I’d be something like $60 million richer.” She pushed him away and headed for the bathroom. She held his hand until she had to let go or stop, though.
“I’d fuck Donald Trump for $60 million dollars, Ken.” She laughed at his pained expression. “I’d fuck him 10 times, for $60 million dollars.”
She entered the hallway, and Ken watched her fade into semi-darkness, and then disappear into the bathroom. He wanted Alicia so badly he thought it would kill him. He’d gift the whole fucking jackpot to her if she’d just say yes to another date.
In the kitchen, he removed two Heinken’s from the fridge and popped the lids. Alicia always drank from the bottle at home. He did also, and it aroused him to watch her sip from the bottle’s mouth. Everything about Alicia aroused him.
I had my hand down her fucking panties, he thought again, triggering another shudder.
Oddly, he’d not gone after her bare breasts, though he had made quite a go at them through her top. They were small, but he really liked small breasts. He wondered what she looked like in just her bra and jeans. He wondered if he’d ever find out. It would kill him to experience a one-night stand with Alicia after this.
The toilet flushed, and she returned. Her ardor had cooled; he could plainly tell that. She looked mostly in control of herself again. He guessed the evening was over.
Would the next few minutes be the last he ever spent in her apartment? Would Monday bring a return of the cold shoulder, his confounded impotence in her presence? Why the fuck had he stuck his hand down her jeans tonight?
He held out her bottle and waited to have her hit the ejection button.
“Thanks.” She took a sip, but only a small one. “Listen...” She glanced back at the hallway. “I hate to do this, Ken, but...” She bit her lower lip, and silently mouthed the work Fuck.
“I ought to kick you out,” she complained. “I need to kick you out with the kids in the apartment—but I can’t.”
She looked at him fiercely. “No more sex! We can talk, but I’m not getting back on the couch with you.” Unaccountably, she moved a step closer, beer in hand. “You drive me fucking crazy. You know that, don’t you?”
Ken tried to control his heartbeat and breathing. “I’d give the whole fucking jackpot to charity to hear what you just said to me. I can’t believe you just did.”
She chuckled disgustedly. “I am the worst fucking ice princess in the world. Do you know how hard it is for me to admit liking you? Even a little bit?” She leaned close, to within an inch of his nose. “I’ll cut off your balls if you give a fucking dime of that money to charity. That money is yours and mine.” She grabbed his shirt at the neck and kissed him.
On the couch, she placed her feet on the coffee table, sat back, and crossed her ankles. Ken sat beside her, a stretch of fabric separating their thighs. Alicia was 5’8” tall, with long, shapely legs. How could a girl with 2 kids have a shape like that? It made his heart skip beats, eyeing the bare flesh above her belt whenever her top rode up. Her hip bones were plainly visible, her flat abdomen between them forming an erotic V into her jeans. How sexy was that? How did he rate even sitting beside this incredible woman?
He unconsciously glanced to his left, toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. Not wondering if they slept, or wishing they were not here, but thinking that he sat beside their wonderful mom. He jerked a tiny bit as she took his hand. He held hers loosely, interweaving their fingers.
“This means you’ll see me again?” he asked. “I didn’t totally fuck up tonight?”
“You didn’t totally fuck up.” She clinked the mouth of her bottle against his. “I pretty much did, though, loosing my cool like that.” She settled beside him more deeply into the cushions. “I had no business letting you get me on my back.” She glanced at him. “You made me feel like the pimply-faced 10th grader on her back the very first time with a boy.” She shivered, and laughed softly. “I haven’t had sex in a long time, Ken.”
How long, he wondered.
She uncrossed her ankles and crossed them the opposite way. “I’ve been separated 2 years and 3 months. I hadn’t had sex with Lawrence for almost a year before that, and I haven’t had sex with anyone else before tonight.” She looked at him again. “I consider it sex when a hand goes down my fucking panties, even if we don’t fuck.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Lawrence was black. You know that, right?”
Ken nodded slightly. He hadn’t found out from her.
“He has a really big dick. He assaulted me with it whenever he felt like it, too. Even when we made love, which wasn’t all that often after we married, he assaulted my insides with that fucking monster. You don’t have a big cock, do you?”
He laughed, embarrassed. “I promise I won’t assault you, Alicia.”
“Yes you will. It’s been 3 years. Even a regular cock will hurt me after 3 years.” She shifted again, sex-talk making her uncomfortable. Ken didn’t welcome the resurgence felt between his legs, either. It was too hard to hide. Even his little white cock.
“Are you worried?” he asked.
“Not about us. I want to fuck you, Ken.” She leaned sideways and offered her mouth, Heineken bottle in her hand. After a moment, she broke the kiss and whispered: “We’re not fucking tonight. Not on my couch and not in bed where William will hear us.” She chuckled, adding, “No way I’m letting you fuck me on the dining room table, either, or the kitchen floor. Forget about that.” She followed his facetious gaze toward the balcony doors, and giggled. “Not there, ever, ever, ever.” She gave him her mouth again.
It took less than a minute to put her flat on her back again. They wrapped together, legs entwined, her arms around his neck, his about her waist and back. He purposely avoided her rear end and breasts. He could not avoid her thigh with his bulging cock, though. It was simply impossible. Alicia chose not to avoid it anyway.
“We are not fucking!” she gasped.
Ken shook his head, and attacked her vulnerable neck, shoulder and earlobe with his lips. She moaned desperately and writhed in his arms.
“I hate you, you fucker! I hate you, I do!”
Ken laughed against the curve of her throat. “I want to fuck you really bad,” he panted.
“Not here on the couch!”
“We have to do it here. Your bedroom is right beside William’s.”
“Noooo,” she moaned. “I don’t want it here!” That was obviously a lie, as she was every bit aroused as when he’d had his hand down her panties.
“I’m gonna fuck you here, Alicia.”
“Don’t you dare!” she threatened, writhing uncontrollably. Her mouth was a primal force, her tongue an unbridled animal. She obviously hadn’t fucked in 3 years.
He drew back from her. He watched her conflicted, contorted face. She panted hard as he did.
“I should have kicked you out when I had the fucking chance!” she huffed.
“Look at us,” he said, laughing. She laughed too, and accepted his kisses.
“I’m gonna fuck you right here. The question is: do you want me to use a condom?”
She grimaced, cursing a blue-streak below her breath. “Do you have one?”
“I have six.”
“Fuck!” She cursed, laughing. “You obviously thought you’d get lucky tonight. I should have thrown your ass out.” She kissed him hard. “You really brought six?”
“I didn’t know if you’d want to use one during oral sex.”
She flinched in repugnance. “You expected oral?” She shifted as though to knee his groin. “You are not getting oral on our first date, asshole. I don’t do oral, period!”
Ken flinched. “Okay,” he said, disappointed but accepting. Alicia—any woman—had the inalienable right to decide what went into her body. “I didn’t really expect anything, anyway.”
“You just came prepared,” she said.
He couldn’t tell if she was angry for real, or how angry. He’d put his foot into it, though.
“I bet you expected anal, too,” she said, incensed, shoving against his chest.
That was it. Anything he said would only make her angrier. Stricken or not, he knew when to leave and let a woman cool off.
He began to sit up. She punched him in the chest. “You are never getting anal sex from me, mister! Ever!”
He fought not to rub his chest where she’d punched him. Why the fuck had he told her he brought six condoms, anyway? Fucking asshole, he thought. When she struggled to push him off and sit up, however, he got angry.
“Do you know what hope is, Alicia? It’s a desire, a wish, maybe a pipe dream. I brought the condoms in hope, not any expectation.” (He wasn’t aware that synonyms for the word ‘hope’ included expectation, confidence, belief, conviction, assurance) “Excuse me for having hope, Alicia.”
He tried to pull away, but Alicia grabbed his shirt and held him fast. “OK. You have every right to be mad at me. I’m an asshole. But fuck--!” She laughed bitterly. “I’ve been used and abused my entire life. Since I was 11 years old, guys thought they could do to me whatever they wanted, and they usually did. I’m the kind of girl that attracts guys that take advantage of girls like me. I am!” she insisted when he went to object.
“A guy wants a blowjob, sure. Wanna fuck my ass? Take me doggie or put me on my back. Want me to suck off your friend—?” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “No problem. Both of you up my ass and in my mouth?” She gazed at him a moment, letting that sink in.
“Excuse me for snapping at you, but I’m paranoid. I don’t like being taken advantage of. I react badly, even when it’s someone like you. Believe me, I’d bite your head off even if we were married 5 years and you rubbed me the wrong way.”
He thrilled at the mention of marriage, revealing how hopelessly enamored he’d become. He fought off imaginary of he and Alicia sharing a bed, eating breakfast on the drive to work, arguing about stupid shit, sneaking kisses and hugs and gropes in public. Also taking off her clothes and putting the meat to her whenever he wanted. Whenever she wanted, he thought with a grin.
She gazed at him sourly. “What part of being bitched at did you find amusing?”
He gazed at her steadily, the same wry grin on his lips.
She shook her head. “You asshole. I’m still married.” His grin stretched wider, and she rolled her eyes. “I was speaking rhetorically, Kenneth. I have no intention of marrying you, or anyone else, ever again. Now get off me, please. It’s time you went home.”
Chancing a violent outburst, he kissed her instead. “I’m single. You have to divorce him sometime. I can wait.”
She started, bug-eyed. “What? No! No way!” She shoved him off the edge of the couch, but kept him from falling. Dragging him back, she said, “Don’t fuck with me like that!”
He made it clear he wasn’t fucking around.
“You are insane! We’ve been together one night! We had fucking lunch together, one time! We haven’t even had sex! Don’t be an asshole.” She cut her eyes away in disgust and grumbled unintelligibly.
Ken said: “I’ve known you for 2 years. You get to know someone pretty well after two years, Alicia. Until Wednesday morning, we got along pretty darned good.”
“When you ruined it all!” she accused.
“It got us here, which is pretty amazing, when you think about it.” He placed his hand over her left breast, which she angrily pushed away. He placed it over her breast again. She crossed her arms reflexively, hunching her shoulders and glared at him defiantly. He’d won, whether she’d admit it or not. He was still there. She hadn’t ordered him out.
“Jesus, I like you Alicia.”
“Asshole,” she grumbled, turning away from his kiss.
“Would you consider marrying me?”
She stared up at him angrily.
“I wouldn’t ask if—”
“Dammit!” she spat. “No way!” She lay rigid and angry, but still hadn’t ordered him out. He regretted cupping her breast, though and apologized for it.
“Don’t touch me when I don’t want to be touched. You should go. It’s late.”
Ken sighed. No means no, he thought. He wanted her enough to respect her wishes, even if she never saw him again. Didn’t win, after all, he thought.
“Wait...” She looked unresolved, but wasn’t any less rigid beneath him.
“I’m not defending myself,” he said. “I’ve been stupid tonight and done things to you I shouldn’t have done. Especially on a first date with kids in the household.” He shook his head. “But Jesus, Alicia, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I don’t want to leave like this. I don’t want to fucking leave, at all! Tell me to stay. Tell me you want me to stay.”
She regarded him a long time. “I want you to stay.” She grinned wryly at his obvious relief. “Stop this marriage shit though. It’s hard enough for me as it is.” She shifted angrily. “Jesus, Ken, you had your hand down my fucking panties.” She laughed, hoarsely. “I wanted to rape your ass.”
She uncrossed her arms and relaxed beneath him again, flexing her shoulders. She glanced at her small left breast, sculpted by the blue and white top. Ken placed his hand over it again. He felt the material of her bra beneath her top and squeezed gently.
“How much do I need to ask your permission to do, Alicia?”
She laughed, amused. “You can’t take my clothes off, for one. We’re on the couch until you go home. You are going home tonight, eventually,” she clarified. “We can’t have sex with the kids here. Everything I said is non-negotiable. No putting your hand down my panties, again either, asshole. My crotch is off limits to you. So is yours,” she concluded, laughing.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Extremely, I guess.” He cocked his head. “Did you shave today, or are you normally hairless between your legs?”
“Wow!” she said, coloring. “That’s fucking personal, all right! And it’s insulting, Ken. It questions whether I had expectations, or I only hoped you’d fuck me.”
Throw it right back in my face, he thought. He’d put his foot it in again, big time.
“I’m normally clean-shaven, but I waxed in the bathroom before you picked me up tonight. I also shaved my underarms and legs, and took a bubble bath. I douched, which is right up there with bringing six horses to the rodeo, huh?”
She eyed him defiantly, shoulders back.
“I like that you did those things,” he said softly. “I really like that you hoped something might happen between us, and I’d appreciate your incredible femininity.” He laughed, frazzled. “You realize that we all but fucked on the couch just an hour ago. It’s like that never happened at all.”
“Non-negotiable,” she repeated.
He slid his hand up her top and found her left breast. He held her gaze while his fingertips slipped beneath the cup and sought her small nipple. She shivered, and stirred restlessly as he pushed the cups upward to free her breasts completely. They were so small, but so wonderful to hold. He cupped each, claiming her soft mounds as spoils of war. Twirling her nipples made her squirm.
“I’m two seconds from putting those off limits, too,” she warned. She fought a second as he worked the front of her top up her chest, grudgingly letting him uncover her breasts. Her small pink areola and tiny pink nipples instantly captured his heart. He brought his lips to her left nipple, sucking it gently and licking it with his tongue. He sucked most of her breast into his mouth. She moaned, cradling his head.
“Stop me if you want.” He worked her brassiere and top into her underarms. He’d never seen breasts so fetching in his life. They might be embarrassingly small to Alicia, but to him, they were perfect.
“How old were you the first time?” he asked. “The first time a boy did this to you.” He touched her left nipple with his fingertip, and ran it slowly down to her belly button. Her hard, concave abdomen took his breath away and made his cock ache.
“I can’t tell you that,” she said. “It’s against SOL’s rules. Come here.” She whispered in his ear, and his eyes opened wide.
“Really?” He stared at her breasts as though they’d just suddenly appeared. “Holy shit! That’s crazy! Did you let him, or did he just do it?”
She laughed at his naïveté. “I never have a choice.” She cocked her head, grinning. “You didn’t ask me, either, Ken.”
He acceded to that. “I asked if I could push your bra and top up into your underarms, though.”
“You said stop me if you want. There is a difference.”
Ken shrugged. “Can I make love to you, without asking a separate question every time I do something? You won’t make me do that when we’re married, right?”
She glared at him warningly. He sighed.
“Unless you specifically tell to stop, I’m gonna assume what I’m doing to you is okay. You can do anything you want to me at all. You have my explicit permission to do anything at all.”
“It’s implicit with me, though, huh?” she questioned wryly.
“Put your hands over your head.”
“No!” she said, instantly stiffening. “You’re not taking my top off!”
“Put your hands over your head, please.”
“No means no, Ken.”
He nodded. And then blinked as she threw her arms over her head, haphazardly askew. The movement effectively flattened her chest, making her bizarrely boy like. The effect, for Ken, was unaccountably and unexpectedly captivating. He instantly ran her blue and white top up and off her arms and dropped it to the floor.
“My bra stays on. Sorry.”
He winced as she yanked down the cups and worked them over her breasts. She filled them so enticingly, though.
“You can look at them all you want, and do whatever you want to them, but my bra stays on my chest.” She looked pointedly at the darkened hallway. “That’s non-negotiable, too.”
Cupping her left breast, he eased against her and took her mouth. A moment later they interwove as they had before, lips locked together, legs intertwined and writhing, his hands all over her body, her arms around his neck. He located her bra strap and fingered it open. She didn’t rebel, though she made her protest crystal clear: her bra must remain on her chest. He complied, running his hands up and down her bare back. In less than a minute, however, the straps had worked off her shoulders and down her biceps to her elbows. She removed her left arm, and the bra eventually disappeared between them.
“Let me fix it,” he whispered. Instead, Alicia removed the bra and tossed it over the seat back and returned to kissing him, topless and exposed. Ken hoped William wasn’t secretly watching in the darkened hallway as Alicia squirmed and moaned and writhed in his arms. She ground against his erection and groped it with her right hand, captured between them. Ken could take it no more.
“With or without a condom?” he gasped.
She shuddered violently. “I can’t! I’m ovulating. I’m right in the middle of my fucking cycle. I can’t get pregnant!”
“I have to get a condom then,” he huffed. She grabbed his shirt collar both sides and bunched them in her fists.
“If William catches us, I will absolutely kill you! I mean it, Ken!” She shook him hard as she could in her inferior position. “I’ll absolutely kill you!”
She wasn’t saying no. He wasn’t going without her permission though, whatever he’d said earlier.
“This’ll leave you naked. I’ll take you missionary, but if William watches us, he’ll see everything.” He couldn’t say Sarah’s name. That idea was unspeakable.
Alicia clung to him tightly, trembling and indecisive.
“Do you want to risk it?” he whispered harshly.
“Fuck!” was her strangled reply. “Go! Go get the condoms, dammit!”
He twisted loose and fell off the couch. Alicia twisted sideways to hide her bare breasts, using her crossed biceps and forearms, staring at the open hallway. Ken stumbled to where his coat lay draped over a seat back and snatched it up. He immediately remembered locking the condoms in the glove compartment of his RAV4 to keep Alicia from discovering them in his pocket. Oh, fuck, he thought miserably: they were in the car!
Alicia saw his stricken reaction. “What’s wrong?” She sat up, knowing the answer immediately. Looking at her bra, she made no grab for it, only kept her shoulders hunched and her arms haphazardly crossed. It was mostly impossible to hide her small breasts.
“In my bedroom. I have 2 squirreled away in my dresser drawer. I’ll go get them.”
Ken searched his pockets purely from habit. Startled, he snatched out a foil-wrapped, Trojan-Enz condom. He stared at the blue wrapper in shock. He’d missed the damned thing! Alicia stared daggers at him, and began to laugh.
It was the quietest, most intense sex Ken had ever experienced. Panting, squirming beneath him, Alicia clawed his back through the thin shirt. She was unavoidably naked; but he’d retained his shirt in an effort at her concealment. It never occurred to either that she could simply wear his shirt, or don her own. He wanted her naked, anyway. A girl fucked on her living room couch should always be naked. So said his narcissistic libido anyway. Or was it his misogynistic libido? He didn’t know which.
“Fuck!” Alicia hissed into his shoulder. “Oh, God, Ken! What are we doing?”
He’d never know that Alicia fucked a huge black cock for 2 years if she hadn’t told him. She was tight as a teenage virgin and equally hard to enter. She was wet as a primordial swamp, though, which he wouldn’t tell her in a million years. He was also not so small, though nothing like her estranged husband.
“Fuck...” she moaned in agony. 3 years without sex had made her virgin-fragile again.
“I love you, Alicia.”
“Stop saying that, dammit!” She suffered another cataclysmic orgasm and shuddered violently. “I love you too, dammit! Will you please cum in me and get this over with?”
He never wanted to stop. He’d never enjoyed sex with anyone like Alicia. She reacted instinctively to everything he did, mirroring his movements, thrusting against him one moment, flexing herself impossibly wide to accept his thrusts the next. God programmed her for sex, at least with him, he thought.
“I have to ask you...” he panted.
“It’s the best sex you’ve ever had,” she panted back. “I know.”
Fuck, he thought miserably, she fucks this good with everyone.
“You are making me fucking crazy! I’ve never had sex like this! Would you please cum in me before I pass out? Please?”
He laughed in relief, gripping her tight and ramming his cock deep as he could. She wouldn’t walk without crutches in the morning if could help it. Her answering moans and shuddering orgasm only made him plunge harder and deeper.
“Ken please!” She hauled in a deep breath. “I can’t take any more. Cum in me, or get out of me! Now!”
That was it for Ken. Exploding with supernova strength, he spewed hot seed from his engorged testicles and prostate gland. He immediately sensed something wrong, knew the sperm flooding out went into Alicia’s vagina instead of into the condom. It had torn while they fucked, their efforts shredding the tough polyurethane skin. He couldn’t stop ejaculating, he just couldn’t. From her reaction, Alicia knew it also
“Oh, God, no! Oh, fuck!”