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Saturday, May 29, 2010
One Life to Live by Annie Nicholas
I checked my teeth in the mirror to make sure a piece of dinner didn’t hide between them then grabbed the mouthwash. The cap fumbled from my trembling fingers and clattered into the sink.
“All is well, ma cher?” The sound of his sultry, accented voice through the closed bathroom door sent my heart into a fit of flutters.
“Yes, I’ll be right out.” I swished and spat then did a quick breath check. Garlic bread with my meal? What a stupid choice. Taking a deep breath, I stared into my own reflected gaze. You can do this. A lot of women ask a guy over on the first date. I swallowed. You can do this?
Of course I could.
I straightened my cowardly spine. In the next room sat the sexiest man who’d ever crossed my path. He asked me out, not the other way around. When he returned to Paris tomorrow did I want to regret being—so—me?
No regrets. I had only one life to live and he’d be the first step on my new journey.
I removed my blouse and folded it in half then stopped to stare at the silky material in my hands. With a sigh, I crumpled and threw it onto the floor. My skirt followed.
Tracing the delicate white lace of my bra, I smiled a little at my reflection then pulled the pins out of my long black hair and let it flow over my shoulders.
Before I lost my courage, I opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the living room.
Jacque stood next to a side table examining some of the framed pictures I kept. He set the one in his hand back on the wooden surface. Heat blazed in his dark gaze as he trailed it along my curves and back up again. His thin, black tie hung loose.
A token bottle of liquor sat on the bar next to me, I couldn’t even recall what it was. I grabbed the two glasses by the bottle. “Drink?”
He strode across the room in long, slow strides and took the tumblers from my hands. “Non.” Placing them back on the bar, he turned his intense stare back to me.
I tried to remember how to breathe. “Music, I-I’ll turn on some music.”
He blocked my path. “Non.” Then he stepped closer until my back hit the walk. Leaning forward until his lips almost brushed mine, he waited.
“I can dim the lights.” My whispered words so soft I barely heard them.
His warm breathe brushed my lips and sent a shiver along my arms as goose flesh pocked my skin. Pushing against the lacy bra, my nipples hardened but he still hadn’t closed the gap to kiss me.
Impatient for his touch, craving his hands on my flesh, and needing to taste him, I closed it for him. I pressed my lips to his and ran my fingers through his thick chestnut colored hair so I could pull him to me.
A ferial growl rumbled in his chest as his controlled exterior crumbled and the passionate man inside emerged. He pressed me to the wall with his firm body while his hands slid over my sensitized skin.
I needed to come up for air but he wouldn’t let me. His mouth consumed mine and my breaths came in gasps. With sure, confident strokes of his tongue, he explored my mouth and encouraged me with softly spoken words.
“Oui, ma cher” were the first words he murmured as I yanked his shirt from his waistband and ran my hands over the muscles of his broad back. He wrestled his jacket off.
With over anxious fingers, I fumble at his pants.
“Oh oui! Ma puce” was the second urging.
The buckle may as well have been a chastity belt, I was ready to use my teeth. “Did you glue this on?”
Chuckling, he slid his fingers on top of mine and popped a clasp to release it. Together we unzipped his pants then he guided my hand into them. “Please, oui?” was the last encouragement I needed.
This man wasn’t walking out my apartment until I was good and fulfilled. I stroked the hard length of his cock and watched his eyes flutter. The soft skin reminded me of velvet.
Lips parted slightly, he thrust his hips in time to my caress. His gaze captured mine as he unclasped my bra. “You are too dressed.”
It slipped from my shoulders and I needed to release him to let it fall.
In a flurry of cotton, buttons, and silk Jacque undressed. My imagination didn’t do him justice. Lean, firm muscles defined his chest and abs. His long fingers grasped the front of my panties so he could peek inside.
This small action turned me on more than anything he’d done so far. Wetness developed between my legs. I needed to feel that full, hard cock pound inside me.
He reached his hand in, slid his fingers between my folds, and rubbed against my clit. “You are ready for me.”
I inched my panties down my thighs as he watched and teased my nub. A little moan escaped my lips as he pressed harder. Stepping out of them, I spread my thighs.
With his strong hands he cupped my ass and lifted me to his hips.
The unexpected ride gave me a start. “The bedroom is right there.” I pointed to a closed door.
“We’ll end up there…eventually…but we start here.”
A squad of cheerleaders sounded off in my head. Oh, I was so not going to regret tonight.
He eased his cock into my moist pussy with a slow, easy rhythm until I took all of him. I’d never been fucked against a wall before and the angle made everything feel all right.
The pace quickened. Each thrust ran along my clit and left me panting for more. My cries filled the apartment. He pushed in, and in, and in. Faster, harder he demanded more and more of me.
Sweat trickled down his back and made it slick to my touch. I held on with ankles crossed and rode the length of his shaft until he grunted like a wild beast. Lights exploded in my head while climaxed. Screaming and praying,I would have pinned him to the wall if I’d had the strength.
My eloquent Frenchmen lost the power to speak as he cried out, spilling his seed into me.
His knees gave out and I landed in his lap. He brushed the hair from my face. “I think…” he tried to catch his breath. “I think I will miss my flight tomorrow.”
About the author: Annie Nicholas hibernates in the rural, green mountains of Vermont where she dreams of different worlds, heroes, and heroines. When spring arrives the stories pour from her, in hopes to share them with the masses one day. Mother, daughter, wife are some of the hats she happily wears while trudging after her cubs through the hills and dales. The four seasons an inspiration and muse. http://www.annienicholas.com