Laura's Light (6 page)

“I’m so hot for you, Laura. I wish I could just lift your dress and tear off your panties so I could thrust my hard cock into you right here, right in this kitchen in this position. Slam into you from behind. Can you feel how hard I am for you right now?”

Laura was panting from Trevor’s words, slightly crude and outrageous words that burned to her very core. She was physically trembling in response, the thought that Mitchell could enter the room not enough to distract her from her desires. She leaned her head back onto Trevor’s chest, felt his heart beating, strong and rapid. Knew he was as consumed with need as she was.

“Catch ya later, Mum, I’m outta here. Should be back in a couple of hours, behave yourselves while I’m gone, guys.” Laura heard her son’s voice as he shouted to her from the hallway, then the bang of the door closing, confirming his departure.

“Shit, totally forgot Rookie was still here,” Trevor gasped as he started to pull away from her.

Laura gripped his arms, stopping Trevor from moving from her, and she wiggled her bottom into his groin area. “Not so fast, you are not getting away from me after teasing me with such lust-filled words. I think you need to put that scenario you so eloquently described into action, and I think you should hurry… I’m about to spontaneously combust, I’m so hot for you.”

She didn’t have to wait long for Trevor to respond. His growl as he shoved her new sundress up over her hips, scrunching the fabric against her stomach with one hand as the other stripped her bare of her underwear, left her in no doubt that he liked her ideas. Laura felt the fabric being peeled down from her hips and she writhed and twisted her body to facilitate its quick removal. The heat between her legs was heading towards unbearable, her need intense. She wanted Trevor’s hands on her as soon as possible.

Within moments Trevor was strumming her folds with magical fingers. She pressed against his hand, trapping it between her body and the cupboard door she was standing before. The pressure built quickly as her body strove to find release. She swayed her hips and thrust against his clever, dancing fingers as the intensity climbed, the peak of the moment within reach. Trevor nipped and laved at her ear, her neck, each sensation contributing to the orgasm that was rapidly approaching, threatening to take her sanity by force if she did not find that final ecstasy.

Trevor must have understood her desperation, must have been so in tune with her body’s responses because his movements became more hurried, more forceful as he rubbed and circled her clit. Then, finally taking that sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger, he gently squeezed, applied just the right amount of pressure, and Laura’s world exploded.

Lightning flashes erupted behind her eyelids. Her body flew, felt freed as her release slammed home, from her little toes to the top of her head, every nerve sang with joy. Any tension, sadness or unsettling thought that had been left in her mind, body or soul was well and truly washed away with the force of her orgasm. She slumped against Trevor’s chest, her body boneless, limp. If he had not had his arms around her she would have ended up a puddle of mush on the floor. But he held her to him. She felt the hardness of his manhood pressed against her. Laura recalled Trevor’s original plan to take her from behind, but a wicked thought shot into her mind and she knew she just had to fulfil her own plan first.

Chapter Eight

The woman was a firebrand. The way she’d come apart in his arms, so honestly, holding nothing back… Trevor could wish for nothing more in life than to bring pleasure to this woman, over and over again. He was giving her just a little time to recover from her orgasm, then he would begin again. He would touch her, taste her, have her coming so hard and fast and often she’d be begging him to stop.

So he was unprepared for her onslaught. She had spun from his hold and swapped their positions before he could react, but as she dropped to her knees before him Trevor finally got the message. Yes, his dick had certainly got the message loud and clear as it hardened even more in anticipation of what was to come—him!

“Careful with the zipper, babe. I’m a bit worked up.” He spoke the warning through clenched teeth, convinced the enamel on his molars was fast eroding, as he fought the urge to thrust towards her mouth. Just the thought of her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, stretched around him, her lips glistening with his pre-cum as she knelt before him in a generous and submissive posture had him about to blow his load. And that, to his mind, would be a terrible waste. He wanted to feel what was about to happen, not just think it. He shuddered, trying to control his body, as she carefully, slowly, lowered his zipper over his erection. As soon as his pants were undone his cock thrust fully upward, reaching a little above the elastic of his jocks.

“Mmmm! You are a big boy, Trevor, aren’t you? I knew you were above average last night—I just didn’t really appreciate how big, though.”

Laura’s voice was husky to his ears, or maybe his own lust clouded his hearing. Trevor did not care which as Laura wrapped her small hand around him, stroked him as her open mouth zeroed in on his cock. Her eyes never left his as she bent forward and took him between her lips, his cock disappearing into her open, wet, warm mouth. The sensation was incredible, indescribable, heavenly—there were not enough words to accurately describe the phenomenon.

Trevor locked his knees so as not to crumple to the floor, felt his eyes roll back into his head, and even though he wanted to watch Laura, wanted to watch her mouth ride him, her cheeks hollow as she sucked on him, he couldn’t manage to focus his eyes. His balls tightened—he could feel the impending release about to spurt from him. God, he was about to come quicker than a virgin on prom night and there was nothing that could save him. He could not prolong the inevitable even though he wanted to feel the thrill of Laura’s mouth on him for longer.
Let’s see, eternity might be a good start
, he thought.

“I’m not going to last—this feels so fucking good, Laura, so fucking fantastic,” he managed to moan. The words were hardly romantic and not nearly deserving of this amazing woman who knelt before him, but they were all he could manage. He would make it up to her later, when he could manage to think with something other than his cock.

The cock that was plunging in and out of her mouth—he felt the head of his shaft bump the back of her throat, felt her fight the gag reflex. She actually swallowed, the sensation mind-blowing. She was blowing his mind and body. Her teeth grazed his cock as she continued her actions, rolling her tongue over the slit in the end of his cock before sucking him back in greedily, all the way until he felt his balls slap her chin.

He tried to remain gentle but could not stop himself from reaching out to her. As his hands found either side of her head, he fisted her hair in his fingers, felt the softness of the strands as her head bobbed up and down over him. Encouraging Laura to find the rhythm he needed, Trevor forced his eyes to open, needed to take in the sight of Laura and what she was doing to him. And it was that view that caused the eruption. He tried to pull himself from her mouth in time but her hands clasped his hips and drew him closer. He spilled, spurted inside her and watched as she took all of his seed into her, watched as she swallowed every last drop. She was still lapping at his flaccid cock until he thrust her head away—it was too much.

Overwhelming.

He dragged her roughly by the shoulders to her feet—too roughly, probably, but the need to kiss her robbed Trevor of rational thought.

Laura’s swollen, wet lips opened under his and their tongues duelled, competing in a dance of passion. They stood embracing, kissing, looking dishevelled. Trevor’s pants were around his ankles and his cock drooped, sated, from his body. Laura’s discarded underwear was strewn beside them and her dress was creased and rumpled. Trevor drew his lips from hers, leaned his forehead against hers.

“Wow, that was unbelievable. You are unbelievable. We are unbelievable together.”

His words came in a whisper, his emotions spinning out of control. Trevor did not want to scare her, did not want to come across too strong, but he could not stop himself. Laura filled a hole in his soul, made him feel complete. Touching her filled him with such a sense of contentment, a sensation that was so foreign to Trevor. In a moment of clarity so strong he could not ignore it, Trevor understood that Laura was the missing piece of the puzzle he had searched for his entire life.

And that thought scared the shit out of him. His life was not a life to share. It was a life that was not always easy to live. A life that had been filled with dark thoughts and, a short while ago, even darker days. It was not the sort of life he would wish upon anyone, least of all Laura.

Those dark days still haunted Trevor. He hadn’t realised at the time that depression was an illness, had thought that this latest bout of black moods then decline into utter despair was due to the knee injury that had subsequently forced him into retirement. Just thinking back on those times made Trevor mentally shudder. It was still hard to put into words the depths of his struggle to regain some kind of perspective—sanity.

After months of counselling and with the help of prescription medication, Trevor now understood that he had been battling depression for a good chunk of his life. All those times when the world had seemed against him, it had felt as though he was being singled out, that people just didn’t understand him. Those times, when he’d just locked himself away, struggled to get out of bed because facing the world and all that was expected of him had been too daunting a task, had been as a result of his ongoing battle with the misunderstood disease.

It had many names, his demon. Clinically, it was called depression but some called it ‘black dog’ or ‘feeling blue’.

He remembered the times he had tried speaking to his mother about how unhappy he was, trying to get her to understand him, but she had put it all down to teenage angst. Told him to cheer up, stop worrying, be happy that he was good-looking, popular and such a great sportsman. She had told him to stop feeling sorry for himself, that there were many people out there so much worse off than him, with real problems. She’d spoken of how he had such a great future ahead of him, playing rugby league, and how proud his father would be if he signed with a first-grade team.

And Trevor had tried to just
cheer up
, but it had never seemed to work.

It hadn’t been the thought of going through all the pain of another knee reconstruction, or the long rehabilitation again so soon after the first injury that had pushed him over the edge. It hadn’t even been the knowledge that he would probably never play football again—in fact, that was almost a relief to Trevor, knowing that he wouldn’t have to take the field each week, worrying about failure. No, what had really been the last straw, so to speak, was the unmistakeable look of disappointment on his father’s face as the man had voiced his regret that because Trevor had injured himself again—as if it had been some intentional plan—his father would miss out on going to the games and sitting in the good seats.

The weeks that followed had been an endless nightmare, with Trevor not leaving his house—in fact, hardly leaving his bed unless it was completely necessary. The darkness that had filled his mind and soul was a living thing. It was as if the sun, although obviously in the sky, had not been able to brighten up the world. Everything, anything had seemed an unimaginable task, an insurmountable mountain to climb. Even the slightest of mundane acts like eating or bathing had been just too tiring to carry out.

But it was his own thoughts that scared Trevor to this day—it terrified him that one day they would return to him and he wouldn’t have the strength or clarity of mind to fight them. For weeks back then, he had imagined ways to end his suffering, end his despair permanently. His consciousness was so persuasive in its belief that no one would care if he was not in this world. That perhaps everyone would be better off without him around to disappoint them. That the pain he was constantly in and the grief that ate at him and the darkness that consumed him would go. All he had to do was end his life. 

To that Trevor, that depressed, broken Trevor, it had seemed the only alternative. Living was not an option, death the only solution. Then Brodie had barged into his blackness and forced a glimmer of light to appear.

How Brodie had known something was wrong, Trevor would never understand. How Brodie had known it was depression was something Trevor had never asked, but thankfully, Brodie had known what to do to help.

It had taken a long time, his recovery from his injured limb and depressed mind both painstakingly slow, but Trevor had recovered. He’d put his mind back on the right path, aligned it so that thoughts of sadness were just that—sadness that promptly disappeared, didn’t fester, grow and swell into pools of blackness. Trevor, through counselling, had learnt ways of dealing with his anxiety, his fear of failure around every corner, and it worked to a point.

He found life a lot more enjoyable, found his new career as a sports commentator rewarding, and his being on television dimmed his father’s disappointment.

But every now and again those niggling uncertainties popped up and Trevor had to fight them away. It was one of the reasons he had never entered into any serious long-term relationships—he had never really wanted anyone to know the demons he fought, the weakness inside him, or the shame of his past suicidal thoughts.

Laura was different somehow. He couldn’t explain it, was not able to pinpoint when or how she’d got through his defensive emotional wall, but she had. Trevor had never felt so at ease with another living soul. Not even his saviour, Brodie James, could completely erase his own inner conflict. But Laura had.

Trevor felt nothing but peace as he pressed his forehead against Laura’s. Felt her breath against his face. There was this easy way about her, so fresh, so happy and caring. Her honesty and openness. Her love for her son. They attracted him to her like a magnet to metal. Life had not been a breeze for Laura Harris, but she had not let it get to her. She was infectious with her joy and enthusiasm, and she was just what he needed.