Author Anonymous: A True Story

  I want this. I know I do. I’ve thought about what this would be like since that very first week. The fantasy has even crept its way into my dreams a few times, but suddenly, I’m terrified. I don’t know what I’m getting into. These are uncharted waters I’m embarking on, and I’m scared shitless.

  The elevator doors close before I step off, and I’m being taken back down to the lobby.

  Maybe this is a sign.

  When the doors open again, I walk out and over to a bench by the large windows. The people are still moving about outside. The snow is still falling. Nothing has changed, and here I remain even though I’ve been craving change, craving something new. Alec is my new. But I’m not a risk-taker. I’m not someone who walks into a situation blindly.

  My stomach churns with monumental anxiety.

  Walk out of here. Go home and find your adrenaline rush elsewhere.

  Don’t listen to her. Your adrenaline rush is waiting for you on the fifth floor. Go.

  He’s not the rush you need. He’s the rush that will annihilate you.

  He’s the rush that will awaken you. He might even save you from a life of unfulfilled fantasies.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turn to Alec who’s sitting on the bench with me. I didn’t even realize how deep in my head I just was to not even sense him sitting next to me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod slowly—nervously.

  He takes my one hand in the both of his. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

  “You,” I respond through the cords of my constricted throat, and when I look at our hands, I notice mine are trembling. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” His voice remains gentle, yet so self-assured. “Do you want to leave?”

  Yes.

  “No.”

  He stands with the slightest hint of a smile while still holding my hand, and as I look into his eyes, I leave my world behind, stand, and walk with him. Alec never lets go of me as we take the elevator up to five, and when the doors open this time, I step off.

  “This is me,” he says before opening the door to unit 502.

  His cologne faintly lingers in the air as I walk into his loft. I move slowly, allowing my eyes to scan the space, aware that Alec is observing my every move.

  “I’m impressed,” I note as I take in the square footage of the fully renovated studio.

  The place is completely open with contemporary finishes: dark gray walls, stainless steel fixtures, large windows that naturally light up the whole room. Support beams help to mark off the living, dining, and bedroom areas, which are fully furnished in a minimalistic way. Boston isn’t cheap, and I definitely wasn’t expecting him to have a space like this.

  “Don’t be,” he responds, and when I turn to see him still standing by the door, he walks over to me while explaining, “My father bought this loft back in the eighties as an investment property. Got it for dirt cheap and never let it go. Being the generous man he was, he sold it to me for what he originally paid.”

  “Who renovated?”

  “I did. I used a portion of my inheritance.” I look at him, and he runs his hands over my coat, from my shoulders down to my arms. “I used the project as a way to distract myself after he died.”

  I don’t respond as we continue to hold each other’s attention, and the fear I felt down in the lobby is no longer present. This is the magic of Alec; it’s his ability to overpower the entire world and become my sole focus. He’s all I can see, hear, and feel in this moment.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he says.

  I reach my hands up and run them along the coarse, dark stubble of his unshaven face. It crackles against my palms before I slightly tug him down to me because all I can think about is the touch of his lips.

  His mouth hovers over mine, so close I can taste his cool breath when he says, “Tell me what you want, Victoria.”

  “I want you to kiss me.”

  With his tongue, he traces my bottom lip slowly, and it takes everything in me not to push up to him and lick his tongue with mine. We watch each other as he does this and then he murmurs over my lips, “Are you on birth control?”

  His question nearly hollows my gut. It’s the awakening slap in my face at the reality of this situation and what we’re about to do.

  “I have an IUD,” I whisper.

  He then gives me what I need and covers my mouth with his in a binding kiss. My hands slide up his face and into his hair, dark with flakes of gray. It’s long enough for me to clench my fists around as his hands drag down the small of my back to my ass. The force behind his touch is strong as he squeezes my flesh and jerks me tighter against him.

  When he dips his tongue into my mouth, the taste scintillates me to the core. He possesses my mouth, marking it with his, and I willingly allow him this delight. My coat falls to the floor when he pushes it off my shoulders, and then I wrap my arms around his neck. Before I know it, he lifts me off the ground and carries me over to his bed.

  I lie on my back, and he supports himself above me as each breath of mine hits hard. With his knees, he opens my legs and settles himself between them. He doesn’t speak a word, only eyes me as he slips one of his hands under the hem of my top. The moment he touches my bare stomach, my abs tremor. He feels my jitters and presses his hand firmly down on me.

  “You want me to stop?”

  I shake my head, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not suddenly feeling every debaucherous choice I’m making in this moment. His hand slides farther up and over my breast. I can feel his touch all over my body and in the pulsating heat between my legs. He softly kneads, and my body instinctively bows up to him, pressing my breast firmly into his palm.

  With his other hand, he lifts my back off the bed. He takes my arms, raises them above my head, and slips my top off. My nipples press against the delicate lace of my bra. I grow self-conscious while he shamelessly looks me over and bring my arms in front of me to cover myself.

  “Don’t do that with me,” he says. “It’s just skin.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he doesn’t allow me to excuse my action. “Everything you’ve been taught about your sexuality, let it go with me. It doesn’t exist in my world. When you’re with me, it’s just us. Fuck what anyone else might think. Nothing we will do together will be wrong because it’s between only you and me. We make the rules—not society.”

  “But I’ve never—”

  “I don’t care.”

  He then sits back on his heels, reaches over his head, and pulls his shirt off, exposing his toned chest.

  “I’ll tie your hands up if you don’t drop them from your tits,” he says, and I slowly move them away.

  With him on his knees between my legs, I lie back as he runs his hands from my knees slowly up the insides of my thighs. I close my eyes when my legs quiver. I want this to happen, but it’s also the knowing that the hands on my body, touching me intimately, are not the hands of my husband, and that alone is enough to freak me out. It’s a storm of emotions battling, creating a war in my head and in my heart.

  I want this even though I know it’s wrong.

  I open my eyes to see the glint of my wedding ring I forgot to take off.

  This is so fucking vile.

  My pulse sprints out of control.

  His hands continue to move painfully slow, closer and closer to my center, and when he cups the heat of me in his hand, I startle.

  “Wait,” I clip, clutching my hand around his wrist. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Does this feel good?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He takes my other hand and forces me to touch his erection. “You want this?”

  “Yes,” I admit against my tormenting thoughts, because when you cut through all my guilt and all my fear, there’s a burning desire that I can’t kill.

  “Are you scared of my touch?”

  I nod, because I am, because it’s new, because it’s different.
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  “Are you wet?”

  “Alec . . .”

  “Are you?” he presses.

  “Yes.”

  He releases my hand and begins unbuttoning my pants, saying, “I’m not going to touch you.”

  Dragging them down my legs, he then stands beside the bed, unhooks his slacks, and takes them off along with his briefs. His cock is rock hard as he stands entirely naked in front of me.

  “I want to cum with you.” His voice is heavy. He gets back onto the bed and sits on his knees, facing me. “Touch yourself.”

  “What?”

  He takes his cock in his hand and slowly pumps it. “We’ve done it like this a hundred times.”

  “That was different.”

  “When I put my cock inside you, I don’t want any doubts or any fear. And right now, you’re feeling all of that,” he tells me. “I also want you comfortable with your body. I don’t want those fucking walls you brought in here with you. So if you want what you say you want, then you need to show me you’re willing to do this my way. Either that, or you can go back home to your husband.”

  But that’s the last place I want to go, so I will my reluctance to go away, and I sit myself up against the headboard. “Okay,” I agree on a shaky voice. I nervously slip my hand inside my panties, but keep my eyes closed. I can’t possibly look at Alec while I do this because this is beyond embarrassing.

  “I want you to watch me, Victoria.” And when I open my eyes, he tries to settle my nerves. “I’ve see you touch yourself before, I’ve heard you moan my name when you cum, I’ve heard you cry, and I’ve never once judged you or laughed at you.”

  “I know.”

  “Look at my cock. I want you watching me while I watch you.”

  I flick my eyes back to his and see nothing but a desire for me to give in to him.

  “Show me,” he says, and I put my faith in him to make me feel safe enough to do this.

  I lift my hips and slip off my panties. If he’s bold enough to be entirely naked, then I’ll try to be as well.

  He’s right, I came here to try something new, to be someone different, but I came with walls of protection. If I want to play it safe and never explore who I might really be, then I should’ve stayed home. But I’m here. I’m in Alec’s world, so I need to let go and trust him.

  I unhook my bra and slip it off my arms, my eyes locked to his. With a swarm of butterflies in my stomach, I take a hard swallow and spread my thighs, exposing everything to him.

  He smiles cagily at me before his eyes leave mine, falling to my breasts and then farther down. I slip two fingers into my mouth, wetting them, and then drop them down between my legs. His breath staggers when I start rolling my fingers over my clit, and the knowledge that I’m doing this in front of him heightens every nerve ending in my body. Every inch of my skin has reached a new level of sensitivity.

  I move my eyes from Alec’s face and watch him as he strokes his cock, the cock I fantasize about having inside of me. He reaches down with his other hand and grabs his balls as he continues to jerk off. His grip is tight in both hands and the veins in his forearms protrude.

  Thrill conquers abashment the more I lose myself. The excitement ruptures in my chest and down my limbs. I moan as I give in to the pleasure of watching this man getting off to the sight of me doing something no man has ever seen me do before. It’s a rush, and I feel like I’m floating as the world outside the two of us swims out of focus.

  Taking my other hand, I drag my finger through my arousal before pushing it inside me. I watch Alec and meet his tempo as I finger myself. It doesn’t take me long to find the edge of my orgasm with the intensity between us. Both of my hands drive me higher, the sound of my wet pussy blends with the sounds of his flesh slapping.

  “I’m about to go,” he groans.

  The ecstasy in his voice, the strain along his chest and neck, his dilated eyes, all from the sight of me, sends me reeling.

  “Oh, God,” I whimper as my core flares in pleasure.

  Alec’s eyes clench shut, and with the first ribbon of cum he shoots onto my stomach, I erupt in a blinding orgasm. My vision blurs as he continues to pump himself all over me, and knowing it was me that got him off spikes my self-esteem. I ride out my orgasm, rolling my hips over my sticky hands, moaning and panting.

  Time slips and suddenly we’re kissing, his body on top of mine, never even allowing me a second to feel embarrassed about what I just did. The weight of him pushes me into the mattress, and I gladly welcome the pressure against my chest as he swallows my ragged breaths. His hands grip my face tightly as he holds me still beneath him. I don’t even recognize the skin I’m in, I’m flying too high, and I’ve never felt so free in the entrapment of this man.

  I want to writhe against him just to get off once more, but he has me pinned. Never have I been the one with an insatiable appetite, but there’s something about how this man makes me feel that turns on my greed. I want more every time, and when he gives me more, it’s never enough. It’s a constant hunger pang I can’t rid myself of, so I keep coming back.

  Our kisses are slow, and I’m finally able to catch my breath. He rolls us to our sides, our bodies marked in each other’s orgasm, sticky and sweaty.

  “You make the sexiest face when you cum,” he says, and I blush, lowering my head and tucking it under his chin. He chuckles. “Why are you so damn shy?”

  “Why are you so damn blunt?” I counter when I look at him.

  “I’m not. I’m just comfortable. Animals fuck each other in the wide open.”

  “So?”

  “We’re animals too, Victoria. But you’re under the mindset that sex is this secret act that you need to hide and not talk about in case you offend someone who, probably, fucks just as filthy as you do.”

  I smirk with mild laughter. “I don’t fuck filthy.”

  “Not yet,” he says and then gets out of bed.

  I watch his bare ass as he walks into the kitchen, grab two bottles of water from the fridge, and then return.

  He hands me a water and I take a sip.

  This man doesn’t own an ounce of modesty, but I’m not complaining. For being forty-one, he’s in great shape. My only concern is that he’s going to be disappointed in me. I’ve only had sex with two men in my life, and Alec . . . well, I don’t even want to think about how many women he’s been with. Women who are assured in their sexuality—confident—uninhibited—everything I’m not. I wonder if I’ll be a bore to him, because Lord only knows what his expectations are, and as much as I want this, I’m doubting myself. Hell, I’m struggling right now sitting here naked.

  I adjust myself, pull the sheets out from under me, and drape them over my lap so at least my bottom half is covered.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “I just saw your pussy.”

  “Can I ask you something now?”

  “Anything,” he says before taking a guzzle of his water.

  “Why me when you can get anyone? I mean, why not go for someone who’s more like you and less like me?”

  “Because I like you. In the same sense that you see me as a challenge, I see you as a challenge”—he then rips the sheets off of me—“and I don’t just want anyone”—he grabs my legs and yanks me down—“I want you”—and then he pushes my knees open.

  Oh, my God. He’s staring at my pussy in broad daylight.

  I lift my head and watch him as he opens my folds with his thumbs—one by one. My head is screaming in self-consciousness as he examines me.

  He looks up and reads my expression clearly. “Why does this make you uncomfortable?”

  “Because . . .”

  “Be honest.”

  “Because you’re looking at the most intimate part of me.”

  “You’re wrong,” he says. “You’re devaluing your heart. That’s the most intimate part of you.”

  I lose sight, closing my eyes as my head falls back onto the pillow th
e moment he slides his tongue up my pussy and to my clit. He sucks my clit into his mouth, causing my hips to buck into him. He releases a pleasurable growl that vibrates against me as the pressure of his sucking builds. I reach down and grab onto the sides of his head as my body squirms out of control. His eyes dart to mine, and I can see the smile in them.

  He continues to suck and lick, and when he’s satisfied, he props up on his knees, and holds himself in his hand. When I see he’s already hard again, I swallow thickly, suddenly scared of how raw this situation has just become. My heart thuds loudly, echoing in my ears. He takes the tip of his cock and runs it along the outside of my pussy.

  “W-w-w-wait!” I frantically stutter, knowing that once I do this, there’s no possibility of turning back, but it’s when his eyes peer down to mine, I focus on solely him and get lost in his sea of blue. “Go slow, okay?”

  He pushes into me, first the tip, and then, inch by inch, deeper and deeper. I freeze up, making it difficult for my body to adjust to the size of him. He fills me differently than Landon does, stretching me in new ways. Once Alec is fully inside me, he holds himself still and allows me time to relax.

  “You’re tense,” he whispers.

  My heart’s beating beats I’ve never felt before, barraged with a million sensations at once. I’m too hot, too ripe, too full of life. My past fades into the back of my head as Alec becomes my only present.

  “Move,” I breathe, and he pulls back, drawing himself out of me without any sense of urgency.

  Every part of him sliding along every part of me. He moves without rush, pushing his hips back down to me, filling me again, stretching me even more. I want to cry out because the pleasure is so intense it’s nearly intolerable.

  “Oh, fuck,” he groans on a strained voice. His face wears the same passionate ferocity that’s coursing through me.

  My hands grip his shoulders as he moves inside my body, my wedding ring staring me in the face, making a mockery of me, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to. It’s too good. It’s too raw. It’s the most potent narcotic of my life.

  Alec watches me when I reach around and yank off my rings.

  “Get rid of them,” I beg, needing him even more to erase all the tension and sadness in my life.