“Ask me if I mind.”
“Do you mind?”
“Oh, man, you’ve got to be kidding.” He grinned and shook his head. “So, would you like a cup of coffee, or something?”
“I’d like a kiss.”
“I thought you were going to make me wait two weeks.”
“I couldn’t wait.”
“What about your son?”
“He’s all right. He’s with my mother. All day.”
“All day?”
“Overnight, even.” She slipped the strap off her shoulder and lowered her purse to the floor.
“You can stay with me all day?” Terry asked.
“If you want me to.”
“Oh. Man.” Stepping forward, he put his arms around her. “Yes,” he said, and drew her in gently.
She tilted her head so their noses wouldn’t bump.
His mouth pressed against her parted lips.
His chest pushed against her breasts.
Still holding the newspaper, Sandy let it drop behind him. It hit the floor with a soft whop. She squeezed herself against him.
And suddenly she felt as if she were being drawn into a strange and wonderful place where she’d never been before.
Getting lost in it.
Oh my God, she thought.
Too soon, his mouth went away. He whispered, “Wow.”
“Wow yourself,” she told him.
“Now do you want some coffee?” he asked.
“No. But you go ahead and have some. If you’d rather have coffee than me.”
He seemed to groan and laugh at the same time. His body still jerking with the laughter, he planted his mouth on hers. Then he stopped laughing. His hands glided down her back, rubbing her through the slippery fabric of her silk blouse and skirt. He moaned as he caressed her buttocks. Then he eased his hands up beneath the tail of her blouse. They drifted slowly up her back, lightly touching her skin. As they roamed, she felt a hardness push against her through the front of her skirt.
His hands tried to come around.
She was pressed too tightly against him for that.
Though she didn’t want to move, wanted only to stay this way, Terry’s body warm and strong and hard, his mouth open and wet, she wanted too to feel his hands on her breasts and on her belly and everywhere else they wanted to go. So she released him and took a small step backward.
His hands, still under her blouse, came around beneath her arms and curled over her breasts. He sighed. He had a delirious look in his eyes. His mouth hung open. His lips and chin were shiny with spit.
His robe seemed to be wider open than before, but Sandy couldn’t see down very far. Her view was blocked by the bulging top of her blouse.
She watched the shapes of his hands under the silk as they explored her breasts.
Reaching up, she unbuttoned her blouse. She spread it open, slipped it off her shoulders, and shook it down her arms until it fell to the floor behind her.
Terry let go and stepped back and stared at her.
And she stared at him.
His cloth belt had come loose. The front of his robe hung open a few inches all the way down. He seemed unaware of it, though. He appeared to be transfixed by the view of Sandy. But then he must’ve noticed where her gaze was aimed. He glanced down at himself, made a quiet “Uh” sound, and started to shut the robe.
“Don’t,” Sandy said. “Don’t do that. Take it off.”
He closed his mouth. He wiped his lips with the back of one hand. Then, gazing into her eyes, he took off the robe and dropped it to the floor.
Just below his waist, his tan stopped. It started again partway down his thighs.
“Tum around,” Sandy said.
He raised his eyebrows.
“I want to look at you.”
“I’m just a regular guy,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.
“I haven’t seen that many.”
“Oh? Okay.” He turned around slowly. Though the curtains were shut across the glass wall behind him, plenty of light filtered in. Sandy stared at his profile, then at his back, and then at his other side as he continued to turn.
When he was facing her again, he said, “Want to take your skirt off?”
Smiling, she unfastened the button and zipper at the side of her skirt. The skirt fell, clinging to her legs until it came to rest around her ankles. She stepped out of it. Then she bent over. Standing on one leg at a time, she pulled off her sneakers and tossed them out of the way.
“Now you turn around,” Terry said. “I want to look at you.”
“I’m just a regular gal.”
“Not even close.”
She began to turn around very slowly.
Terry murmured, “God.”
Facing him again, Sandy whispered, “Come here.”
He stepped close to her. When he was a stride away, she motioned for him to halt. He stood there, arms at his sides.
Without looking down, she reached out and curled her fingers around him. He gasped and arched his back.
“You want to put this exactly where?” she whispered.
He sort of smiled.
“Here?” Sandy asked.
She took a step closer to him, pushing down gently at the stiffness with her hand. As her breasts touched his chest, she felt the rub between her legs. She let go and moved in more, feeling him press up against her. Kissing him, she squeezed her thighs together. He felt hot and thick between them.
His hands rushed feverishly up and down her back.
He writhed against her.
Huffing for air, he pulled his mouth away and gasped, “Bedroom?”
“Here.”
“Couch?”
“Here.”
His hands slid all the way down Sandy’s back and under her buttocks. Clutching her there, he pulled upward, spreading her cheeks so she felt cool air between them as he lifted. She went to her tiptoes. A moment later, her feet came off the floor and she opened her legs wide.
As he raised her, she felt her sweaty breasts slide against his sweaty chest, felt her slick belly slide upward against his slick belly, felt the thickness between her thighs follow her upward, pressing at her.
Then she could see over the top of Terry’s head.
She gazed at the bright curtains but didn’t really see them, didn’t really see anything because her world had become the feel of Terry’s penis down there touching her, nudging her open, delving.
She clutched the sweaty hair on the sides of his head.
Gasping and whimpering, she threw her own head back and stared at the ceiling.
Then he eased her downward.
He was all wet and slippery outside Sandy, stout and thick inside. Lowering her slowly, not thrusting himself but only lowering her very slowly as if to torment her by holding back, he pushed in, spreading her, climbing snugly higher and deeper. On her way down, she whimpered and kissed his eyes and his nose. And then he stopped lowering her.
“What?” she gasped.
“You...okay?”
“Huh?”
“Am I...hurting you?”
“No.”
“Should I stop?”
“No!” She cried the word out in such a loud, urgent voice that she shocked even herself.
Terry winched He grunted, “Ah.” Then his hands seemed to drop out from under her buttocks.
She plunged, letting out a yell of shocked delight as she rammed down and felt the full solid length of him shove its way up her. Then her groin bumped his. He was all the way in, all the way home.
“Yes!” Sandy whispered.
She locked her mouth against his.
Arms and legs wrapped around Terry as if she were climbing a tree, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, squirmed and moaned .
Terry, though no bigger than Sandy, held her and stayed in her and sank to a crouch. Then a hand moved to the center of her spine. Holding her, staying in her, he tipped her backward and lowered her onto the rug.