Firecracker Gone Astray - Firecracker #2 (Erotic Romance)

Firecracker Gone Astray
© 2013 Megan Flint

Cy took a few days off from his job as a masseuse and kept Trixie busy for the balance of their weekend, all of which was spent in the Fairview Suite. There wasn’t a stretch of floor or expanse of wall that she hadn’t either been lying on or pushed up against. The sleigh beds were completely tossed by that point and she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Cy, short for Cyril, kept her busy. Trixie eventually learned his last name, right in the middle of being driven from behind. It hadn’t occurred to ask until that moment.

“Foley,” he answered in between breaths. “It means
one who plunders
”.

A more fitting name there was not.

“Yes please Mister Foley,” she managed right before coming again.

Trixie happily gave herself over to his every errant desire. He deserved it. Cy had been there for her when she needed him most on the massage table, when his ministrations accidentally set off her detonation. She hadn’t released like that since, keeping her temperature at a
simmer
during their subsequent frolicking, but he wasn’t a selfish lover, and frequently made a point of satisfying her appetite as well.

If Trixie detonated like that again, so soon after the last two, there was no telling when her mind would return again, and she wanted to stay
in-the-room
for now as they got to know each other better.

She loved that Cy could handle her gushing orgasms. He was the first guy who not only understood exactly what her body was doing, but was also aroused by it. Not only that, but he could navigate her triggers without letting himself get carried away. Apparently being a skilled masseuse had not only equipped him with supreme self-control, but more than a passing knowledge of orgasms as well.

Working at the hotel, Cy had kept them well fed and watered in the Fairview Suite, secretly ordering food up from the kitchen with the help of his friends who worked there. When they weren’t entwined in each other, they dined like royalty. Lobster and steak for dinner, truffle cake for dessert, eggs benedict for breakfast. No menu item was off limits. When the weekend drew to a close, they had eaten their fill, but were still starved for each other, having spent more calories than they ate, which was remarkable considering how gluttonous they had been. That’s when Trixie suggested Cy come back with her to the city for a spell. He didn’t need convincing.

Trixie opened up to Cy more in the twenty-four following the race, chatting across pillows, while eating ordered room service, or making fun of old television reruns, than she had with any guy in the last twenty-four months. She wasn’t accustomed to being this relaxed around a man, but Cy made it easy. Still, even with two bathrooms in the suite, Trixie felt more exposed than she had ever been. She was used to keeping her
sexy
persona up around men, like a muscle that was constantly flexed, especially around somebody she found attractive.

That wasn’t necessary with Cy. He seemed more interested in getting to know her without all that posturing. Trixie wasn’t used to letting her guard down, but he made her feel safe. Cy even laughed when she burped after a meal and tickled her to make her do it again. The whole experience was kind of surreal and challenged every preconception Trixie had formed about men. Asking him to spend time with her in the city as their weekend drew to a close was barely a decision. She didn’t want to be parted from him yet. She also wanted to show Cy off.

After the way her treacherous girlfriends scurried away during their planned race weekend at the last minute, she would enjoy rubbing him in their faces.

She had a job that was counting on her to show up Monday morning, but Cyril offered to play house with her in the meanwhile, and made up a family emergency to get away from his work, allowing him to drive back with her to the city. For three wonderful days, he dovetailed with her existence. She would wake up to the smell of breakfast after a night of amorous frolicking and little sleep. They would exercise and stretch before eating, and he was waiting for her when she returned from work, having spent the intervening day exploring the neighborhood.

Trixie’s girlfriends assailed her with questions about how the weekend had gone with apologetic emoticons and texts, but she deflected them all until mid-week, when she would tell them the whole tale over several bottles of mead at her place.

She got Cy to answer to the door in a fitted white shirt when they arrived. After being filled in on all the details, he merrily played along as a prop and fawned over her every whim during the evening.

Trixie liked to show rather than tell.

She never once berated her girlfriends for ditching her at the last moment, but instead reveled in their eye-drooling stares and private asides whenever Cy got up to fetch another bottle of honey-wine.

“You’ve been getting the business end from that horned god?”

Trixie merely nodded and grinned. The high road felt good.

Cy left the next morning. His work had never stopped calling, bossily wanting to know when his family emergency would be resolved. Cy offered to host Trixie at his place in the mountain village, but admitted that he would be working for two weeks and two weekends straight to make up for the time he took off and would probably be completely wrecked at the end of each day. Apparently there were already guests asking for him by name. She bet there were, especially with those hands.

They resolved to meet again on the third weekend, at which time he would come back to the city, assuming he hadn’t overstayed his welcome. Like that was even possible. Trixie would be lying to herself if his absence didn’t immediately leave a gaping void.

Without Cy waiting for her at home after work, the next two days felt mired in molasses. The near continuous stream of questions from her girlfriends after he left made the slow progression of days even more poignant. They wanted to know every detail about Cy, bar none, and if he had any identical twins, older or younger brothers, or similarly hot friends. She dispensed salacious little tidbits, but otherwise kept their curiosity hungry.

Finding the energy to exercise before breakfast, as Cy had done, became nearly impossible. In fact, finding the energy to exercise at all had fled her body after their prolonged weekend, which was completely unacceptable. She had been working out for months before meeting Cy. Race or not, she needed to shake off this funk and get motivated again. Moping around wasn’t going to cause their next weekend together to arrive any sooner, no matter how much the feeling of his body thrusting between her legs never left the forefront of her mind.

Trixie briefly considered a personal trainer again, but couldn’t think of a single fitness center that she wanted to revisit. They were all filled with guys who were either past exploits or friends of her conquests. She would rather avoid seeing them again. More than a handful had been her personal trainer at one point or another. The one-and-one interaction had engendered a casual familiarly, which lead to flirtation, which prompted more intimate sessions of exercise. None of them had reacted well to her cataclysmic release. Except for Erik, but he wasn’t really a personal trainer so much as a sergeant for city-soft civilians who wanted to be whipped into shape.

In point of fact, Erik was the only other man, besides Cy, who had stayed rigid through her explosive release. He didn’t release like Cy did, but she also didn’t give him another chance after their brief tryst. Trixie moved on quickly instead, much like she always did, after sensing even the smallest amount of reservation in a guy. It simply wasn’t worth being disappointed or rejected. At least, that was the inevitable ending she imagined.

That said, Erik had been a glorious giant of a man, standing close to seven feet tall, proportionately slender, and but built like a brick house. Did she really want to revisit that connection, especially now that she had Cy in her life?

If memory served, Erik had been more sensitive than she first suspected. She picked up on the fact that he wanted to be seen as more than just a hulking physique, and seduced him accordingly. If there was anything else to the guy, Trixie couldn’t honestly say. She never took the opportunity to find out. He was European, and… that was about all she knew. Not even a last name came to mind.

Trixie shook her head in disbelief. Her quest to find a meaningful relationship had resulted in some pretty shallow assessments of men. Trixie was finding it increasingly difficult to see her past behavior in a favorable light. She had been little more than a predatory vixen in search of the most preserving penis of them all. Anything else attached to the cock had taken a back seat. Had her single-minded focus left a trail of perfectly viable, heartbroken contenders along the way?

Cy represented a fresh start, but she couldn’t help but wonder how many other guys she had prematurely cast aside. She had only given each guy a single chance to feed her furnace. After her first few romantic dalliances, that resulted in being rejected because of how copiously she released, Trixie became mercenary in her relationships.

Ever since then, if she got even the slightest hint that a guy was freaked out by her squirting orgasms, she moved on, oftentimes before the rejection had a chance to happen. Trixie may have hit the self-destruct button too soon in some cases. It took Cy, his prodigiously enduring erection, and a remarkable insight into her character before she paused long enough to consider the consequences of past judgments.

If Trixie was serious about starting fresh, perhaps that also entailed acknowledging the damage she had wrought in the past. Maybe even righting some of those old wrongs. Heck, perhaps there was something she could say to Erik that might make his class more comfortable to attend. Or was she just trying to manufacture a hot mess in which to oh-so-conveniently become enmeshed?

Trixie realized that she was negotiating with herself. Who did she think she was fooling exactly? It’s not like she couldn’t see exactly where her mind was already starting to wander.

Still…

She sat down at her computer and searched for all fitness instructors named ‘Erik’ in the city. Not knowing his last name turned out to be inconsequential. He was easy to find and had been quite industrious during the past year. Erik was now the owner of a self-contained studio called Bare All Fitness. He even offered a free introductory class for drop-ins.

Trixie could dress down and hopefully blend in among everyone else. Now that the obstacle course race was over, she needed an incentive to maintain all the hard worked she had put into her body. It’s not like she had been exercising on her own lately, or at all since Cy left. The other fitness centers she’d frequented were basically nonexistent options due to her history with them. And there was always her backside that still needed toning up. Trying to look good in front of a past fling was certainly one way to light a fire under her ass, even if she didn’t have any
intention
to revisit his monolithic anatomy.

There, it was settled. Trixie would sign up for Erik’s class, avoid drawing attention to herself at first, and get a feel for the situation. If he did pick her out of the class, then at the very least Trixie could use the opportunity to apologize for how she treated him in the past. They were mature adults after all. What could possibly go awry?

“Trixie?”

That didn’t take long. So much for not making an entrance. Trixie wore a baggy shirt over sweat pants precisely to avoid drawing attention to herself. She even showed up late to potentially sneak in under the radar. She hadn’t even unrolled her mat yet when Erik
strode towards her from across the room, doing so with far fewer steps than regular mortals. Everyone moved aside to make way for his purposeful gate.

“Hi Erik. Good to see you,” she said, as he approached her larger than life. Erik towered over Trixie by more than a foot, well exceeding her most important standard of being taller than she was, in his case by an arousing stretch. He was no less rippling with muscle than she remembered.