So I go there... but still slowly.
I slither my way down, licking at the smooth skin of her sex that she keeps immaculately waxed, inhaling her sweet scent. My hands join in and I open her wide for me, placing my lips against her, humming my approval when her legs spread further apart to give me access.
I slowly feast on her pussy, licking and nibbling all around the outer edges, avoiding that one spot I know will set her off like a firecracker. Macy has always orgasmed so fast for me, a woman so in tune with her body's wants and desires, but now I find myself wanting to make her work for it. Even though my cock is aching with raw need to be inside of her, I continue to take my time.
"Cal," she whispers to me.
I ignore her, because I know what she wants.
"Please," she moans.
A desperate plea.
She's begging, and that touches me because she's not the first woman that has wanted me to give them something. She's just a woman that's needed it far more greatly than any other.
But it's not just a craving I'm hearing from her right now. It's a pure, honest need and I can't stand to let this woman go without.
I bring my mouth right over her center, give her a hard lick, and then suction my lips right over her clit. I pull it swiftly into my mouth, causing her hips to power off the bed, and she's immediately breaking apart with a wail of relief.
Christ... so fucking responsive. I've never seen or felt anything like that from another woman.
I gentle her through the quakes and spasms my oral ministrations wrought, and when she starts to settle, I crawl my way up her body again. Fisting my cock, I bring it right to her entrance and as my lips come down on hers, I slip inside of her wet heat.
I slide in deep, pressing my balls tight against her, and I can't help the feral groan that tears out of me. She feels so fucking good... divine almost.
While I want to give in to the unmitigated need to start pounding away inside of her pussy, I make myself go slow. I want this to last for as long as possible, because there is a very good chance this will be the one and only time I'll be in Macy's bed. I'll savor and commit this to memory, and call upon it for some type of stupid security blanket when Macy puts all her walls back up.
"Go faster," she urges me as she turns her head to the side, ripping her mouth from mine.
I ignore her and continue a slow flex of my hips, pushing in deep, pulling out in increments. Her hands come to my ass... desperately trying to pull me to her.
"Cal," she says in a strangled voice. "Come on... fuck me harder."
Bending my head, I bare my teeth and bite down on her shoulder, then immediately lick away the sting. "Be quiet."
She grunts in frustration, circles her hips, and tries to urge me on.
I kiss along her neck again, breathing in deeply of her sweet smell. God, this is fucking amazing.
"Cal," she groans... or is that a whine?
I continue to ignore her, leisurely stroking my cock into her tight well.
Macy huffs in frustration, sinks her hands into my hair, and jerks my head up so I'm looking down at her. Her eyes glitter and her face is flushed. So goddamn beautiful.
"Stop trying to make love to me," she demands haughtily while my hips continue to work my shaft in slow and deep.
I chuckle, lean down, and kiss her nose. I hate that I have to reassure her. "I'm not making love to you. I'm just... going slowly."
"What's the difference?" she mutters.
"The difference is," I tell her confidently as I push in extra deep. She groans in satisfaction. "Is that I'm just fucking you... slowly. That's all."
"I can't--"
"You can," I tell her with assurance, and then I chide. "Just relax and enjoy, Macy."
She gives an irritable groan and swivels her hips against me, and fuck... that feels good and my instinct is to start pounding.
I grit my teeth, lower my face into her neck, and continue to slowly... gently... fuck her. Because this is definitely not making love. That only comes when there is love, and while my feelings for Macy are most assuredly tender and I feel protective toward her, there is no love between us. There's not enough openness and trust for that to even be a consideration.
Macy's breath hitches, her chest rising in starvation for oxygen. I pump, and push, and pull... all on a quicksand timetable. My cock massages her from the inside out, and my pelvis grinds softly against her. She whimpers beautifully with need, and I love being the one that has absolute power over her right now.
I love her being dependent on me in this moment.
I tilt to the side, raise a hip without missing a stroke, and push my hand down in between us. My fingers easily find her wet clit, and I swear I can feel it throbbing with anticipation. I capture it, give it a tiny tweak, and she cries out.
So I do it again while I fuck her lazily.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And then she's coming... again. She moans so deep in her chest that it sounds like an avalanche cutting loose and her back bows in pleasure. I pull my face up and bring my mouth to hers, forcing it open and thrusting my tongue inside. She groans all around it, and I can't help myself as I slam into her hard while her body spasms all around my cock.
From out of the depths of nowhere, my own orgasm stuns me when it breaks loose and I leave her mouth barren as I throw my head back and let out a roar of satisfaction. I come so fucking hard, boiling up from my balls and flooding her insides. My body reacts on instinct... pelvis grinding down and mashing my fingers against her clit.
She cries out again, and I can feel her muscles clamping down on me hard as she has another climax. Jolts of pleasure sift through me, causing my cock to thump repeatedly in her... more creamy jets letting loose in her pussy.
"Fuck," I mutter as my head drops again... this time to her shoulder and harsh, warm breath expels from my chest.
"Oh, God, that was good," Macy says in complete capitulation as she wraps her legs around my waist--squeezes hard--and my man card stands up to take a bow.
I hold most of my weight off her but can still feel the pulse of her heartbeat as we lay chest to chest. Her breathing gentles and her fingers lazily stroke my back. It's a peaceful, contented feeling that I know she shares with me, and I hold my tongue from saying all kinds of crazy things so I don't freak her out.
Instead, I just enjoy what is, without a doubt, a breakthrough for Macy. I know that this is the first time she's opened herself up to the true intimacy of sex, and based on her body's reaction... coming twice hard while I was jetting inside of her... and maybe even a third time... I know she loved the fuck out of it.
Finally, I'm forced to pull my softening dick out of her and I roll reluctantly to the side, wrapping my arms around her waist and forcing her to roll with me. I tighten my grip, expecting her to try to jolt out of my embrace, but she surprises the hell out of me by snuggling into my side.
My lips curl into a satisfied smile, and I kiss her forehead before resting my chin on her. We lay silent, digesting the moment, maybe both of us afraid to talk and break the spell.
"I believe in nurture," Macy says into the heavy silence, answering one of her very own questions she posed to me not long ago at dinner. I go absolutely still, even holding my breath to see what else she might say. "I believe babies are born inherently good, but that circumstances can make a person bad."
"You're not bad," I say gruffly, squeezing her tighter, because there's no doubt in my mind she's talking about herself.
She ignores me, clearly not looking for someone to debunk her theory. "But I don't believe in God. I don't understand how someone that's almighty can even let one iota of suffering happen in this world. It makes no sense to me."
I hold my tongue, understanding that she's not looking for a religious debate.
"When I pass a homeless person on the street, I give them money. Whatever cash I have on me. I don't consider whether they truly need it or
if they're scamming me. I give them the benefit of the doubt, because everyone should have the benefit of the doubt. Everyone should have faith in humanity, until proven otherwise."
A lump forms at the base of my throat and my stomach flips, not over the absolute conviction in her voice, but rather because she's telling me the story of her life. She's telling me of all the things that have been lacking for her, and it breaks my heart.
"And you're my second favorite person in the world," she says quietly. "You already know my first is Mac, and prior to you, I would have had to say Matt was my second, but I think that's changed now."
I squeeze her a little harder, letting her know through my actions and not my words that I understand her. That I get her. That I accept her sad philosophies, and that she's safe in sharing them with me.
Macy then does something that almost shatters me. She does something that starts a small kernel of flaming hope to spark within my chest.
She tilts her face, kisses my neck, and then snuggles into me deeper. In a quiet, sated voice, she says, "I definitely think we're friends, Cal."
Chapter 20
From the Diary of Macy Carrington:
Dear Diary,
It's late. Or early in the morning. I guess that depends on the way you view things.
I just slipped out of bed where I've left a beautiful man sleeping.
That's right. There is a man sleeping in my bed.
Cal came over tonight. Brought me flowers. Took me to dinner. Talked to me like we were forever buddies.
Then he made love to me.
Correction... he said it was just slow sex, but whatever. It freaked me out and delighted me all at the same time. I'm still not sure how I feel about it, because when it was all said and done, and while my heart was still tripping around, I ended up telling Cal about me. He knows I was talking about myself, and while I didn't give any details, I shared a good chunk of what makes me... well, me.
And then after, I straddled him... kissed him... stroked him back to life, which is just not a difficult chore with this man, and then I went to town on him. I gave him the ride of his life, and if the way he shouted out while he came deep inside of me is any indication of my prowess, I rocked his world hard.
He rocked my world just as hard.
And this is why I needed to come and write in you right at this moment, because my brain just won't quit spinning. It's trying to rationalize everything when I believe it's my heart that's calling the shots right now. That's a battle I have no wish to analyze, so I figured it best to write my initial thoughts in your secret pages and just let it be purged.
After I climbed off Cal... after I let him pull me back into his arms and sort of force me into a snuggling pose (which, admittedly, was kind of nice), he said something to me just before dozing off.
He said, "You can tell me anything, Macy. I'm your friend. You will always be safe in telling me, but more importantly... you will never be judged by this man."
He's ripped me open.
I'm flayed.
My eyes are clear, and I'm scared to death.
I can't be hurt because I'm not sure that can ever happen to a person without much of a heart left intact. That's not the worry. I'm smart enough to know that I can only benefit from the things that Cal gives me.
I just hope I don't destroy him when he sees just how fucked up I am.
Lost,
Macy
Chapter 21
"How good of a cook are you?" I whisper as I nudge my face into Macy's neck and stroke her hip. Her skin is warm and even though we're buried under a heavy comforter, I was pleased to wake up and find her pressed in tight against me still. I slept hard through the night and half expected to wake up with Macy at least an arm's length away from me, not snuggled in as if having a man sleep with her all night was the most natural thing in the world to her.
She gives a little groan, tries to elbow me in the ribs, and then wiggles in tighter to me. Having her bare bottom pressed against my dick would ordinarily consume me with crazy lust, but instead, I'm enjoying the intimacy of embracing her.
Just simply holding her.
"Macy," I chant against her neck. "Food. I'm hungry."
"I suck at cooking," she grumbles, but then turns in my arms so she's facing me. She lazily pushes a leg in between mine and snuggles her face into my chest.
And fuck... where is the aloof, intimacy-averse woman that I went to bed with last night? Have I shattered her hard shell already?
"Do you have eggs in your refrigerator?" I ask, contemplating whether I want to cook or have a spectacular morning fuck.
"Mmmm. Hmmm," she moans against my skin, and I'm not sure if that's an invitation for breakfast or sex.
"Want me to cook them?"
"Mmmm. Hmmm."
Smiling, I pull back from her to see her blinking sleepy eyes up at me. Her hair is a mess... all tangled and wavy, but she looks placid and well sated. I find I like this look on her very much. Leaning down, I kiss her briefly and then roll away.
"Okay, eggs in bed coming right up," I say as I walk to my pile of clothes on the floor and pull on my boxer briefs and dress pants.
"Don't bother with the shirt," she says as she leans up on one elbow and watches me. "I have things I want to do to you after we eat."
"Naked things?" I ask with a grin.
"Oh, yeah. Naked, naked things," she says pertly as she grins right back and tumbles her luscious body out of the bed. "I'm going to take a quick shower."
I turn away before I'm tempted to drop trou and pounce on her, but the slight grumble to my stomach has me deciding to opt for eggs first. I reason that I can use the strength because it's a Saturday and until such time as Macy decides to kick me out of this apartment, I'm staying and seeing just how much deeper under her skin I can entrench myself.
In the kitchen, I find a well-stocked fridge, which surprises me since Macy says she sucks at cooking. I assume either she has someone that does it for her, or she lied so I'd cook her breakfast in bed.
I'm guessing the latter.
It doesn't take me long to get oriented, her pots and pans hanging over the center island from a cast-iron rack. The eggs and butter are easy enough to find, and I even pull out some pre-cooked bacon I can heat up in the microwave. In just under ten minutes, I have two plates loaded up along with two cups of coffee poured, and I'm just considering how to get it all back into the bedroom when the doorbell rings. I can still hear the shower running from Macy's master bath, and I'm undecided about whether to answer or not.
Part of me feels I'd be stepping over a boundary she might not like, but the other part of me is curious as to who would be ringing Macy's door this early in the morning on a Saturday. It could be a deliveryman. Or maybe just another man?
No, that's stupid. I'm confident I'm the one and only that's been here.
But curiosity wins out so I pad toward the front door and stick my eye up to the peephole.
And fuck!
It's Mac.
I take a careful step back and hold my breath, hoping she didn't hear me walking through the apartment. The bell rings again, followed by a sharp rap on the door. "I know you're in there, Macy," Mac calls out. "Sal down on the security desk told me you're in."
I take another soft step back from the door because I know without a doubt that Macy hasn't told Mac about us, and while I wish it wasn't so, I need to follow Macy's lead and comfort level on letting her in on our secret.
"I'm not going away," she calls out, almost in a singsong, serial killer voice.
Turning away from the door so I can hightail it down to the hall to Macy, I'm immediately stopped in my tracks when I hear a key rattling in the lock. "Fine. I'll just let myself in," Mac yells in warning.
I consider running.
Diving behind the couch.
Something, but then it's too late.
The front door is opening and Mac is stepping through. Her head is bent as she removes the key, and the
n when it rises, she immediately locks eyes on me.
And her jaw drops.
And then drops further in astonishment as her eyes rake over me... taking in my bare feet, pants zipped but unbuttoned, hanging low on my hips. Naked, naked chest and I'm sure my hair sticking up all over the place.
"Hi," I say in a raspy voice. I give a cough... clear the panic away, and then say in a more steady tone, "What are you doing here?"
And I didn't think it was possible, but her jaw drops further. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"
"House sitting?" I ask in return, hoping beyond hope that she'll buy that out-and-out lie and just leave.
No such luck there, because I hear Macy's voice as she walks down the hallway. "Is breakfast ready? I'm starved, although I could be persuaded to suck your cock as an appetizer first."
I wince.
Really hard and let out a sigh.
Just as I turn her way, Macy steps into the living room--thankfully wearing a robe--and looks at me first. But then her gaze immediately snaps to Mac, and the flirtatious smile slides right off her face.
No one says a word.
It's so quiet that I can hear my heart pounding in my chest. Macy looks at Mac, Mac looks back at Macy, and I look at the custom drapery that I bet cost a fortune, thinking maybe I should just get my clothes on and leave.
But then I think... screw that. Why in the world should this be uncomfortable? Mac knows Macy likes to fuck. She has to know I like it as well. We're both her friends, and Mac respects us both. It's not like we're doing anything illegal, immature, crazy, or thoughtless.
"Want some breakfast?" I say as I turn to Mac. "I just made some bacon and eggs."
Mac doesn't even look at me. She continues to stare at Macy, who looks back at Mac guardedly.
Finally... finally, Mac seems to snap out of it and slides her gaze my way. "Yeah... sure. Breakfast sounds great."
Mac turns and heads toward the kitchen and when she's out of sight, I walk up to Macy. "Why don't you go get dressed?"
"Holy shit," she breathes out in a huge release of air.
Chuckling, I lean down and give her a quick kiss. "It's fine. Go get dressed. Come talk to your best friend. It's all good."