Mountains Wanted (7 page)

Come have coffee with me
this morning and tell me all about it,
came his reply.

***

Two hours later she was
sitting across from James at Java the Hut. He looked relaxed. Sarah
wished she could say the same, but she felt a certain amount of tension nagging
at her. She remained displeased with the delay in his response to her text
after their night together, and she was debating whether or not she should
mention it. She decided she had better let it go, for now. 
Choose your
battles
, she reminded herself.

“So where did you go
last night?” he questioned, taking a sip of his coffee.

Sarah considered her
options for answering and responded vaguely as planned: “Out with my best
friend Rachel and her boyfriend Mark.”

“Someplace local?” His
blue eyes were picking up the light from a nearby window and nearly glowing.

“A club in DC.
 What did you do?” She was starting to feel interrogated and was compelled
to redirect.

“I shot pool with a
couple of buddies, then turned in early. It was a busy week,” he
explained, as if otherwise he would have been engaged in any number of
debaucherous activities.

Busy week, huh? Is
that why you didn’t text me back?
she wanted to ask, but refrained. She was not the type of person
to beat around the bush.
Why is this conversation so strained? Ask for what
you want
, she heard Rachel’s voice in her head.
Cut to the chase
. Sarah
swallowed the coffee in her mouth and took a deep breath. “Um, what are we doing
here?” the words floated out into the still air like bubbles waiting to pop.

James shot her his all
American smile, as if he was relieved she was willing to confront the elephant
in the room. “I wanted to ask you the same thing,” he admitted. “I’m not good
at this stuff.”

I am supposed to be good
at this stuff
, Sarah thought, remembering
all the different relationships and understandings she’d nurtured in the past,
different levels, different attachments, all along a spectrum from casual sex
to committed monogamy. She studied him, his straight nose, his clean-shaven
chin, his full, slightly upturned lips, trying to decide how to articulate it
in a way that wouldn’t turn him off. “I enjoyed our night together,” she
finally said. “Immensely.”

He nodded and one
eyebrow raised as if to beckon her to continue.

“I...I would like to
explore our dynamic some more,” she revealed, very deliberately adding,
 “With no expectations for anything else.” She let that sink in and then
qualified it: “I mean...for now....”

He looked perplexed for
a moment but then it dawned on him what her words meant. “You just want to
fuck me?” he asked so softly that the F word was barely audible.

Sarah laughed, “I don’t
want to complicate your life, James. I know we’re both busy. I enjoy your
company but I get the feeling you don’t want any...pressures.” She was gauging
his reaction to her words before she let the next sentence fly, “I believe it’s
called...’friends with benefits?’”

If he was shocked, he
managed to hide it well. “Friends with benefits,” he repeated.  “I
like the sound of that.”

***

Chapter Five

Sarah didn’t hear
another word from James until Thursday afternoon.
What are you doing this
weekend?
his text inquired. Sarah found herself shaking her head, but
she was at least used to his propensity to compartmentalize her by now. Clearly
he didn’t fully grasp the “friends” part of the friends with benefits
arrangement. She reviewed her understanding of the relationship:
Checking in
from time to time, asking how my day was, finding out if I’m okay. Not making me
feel like a human sex doll. Is that asking too much?
 At the present,
however, Sarah was feeling so frisky and wanton that she was willing to
sacrifice formalities to be on the receiving end of some “benefits.” She made a
mental note to him to remind him how he needed to keep up his end of the
arrangement.

Hmmm, what am I doing
this weekend?
she pondered the answer
to his query. She was feeling bold in her reply: 
You?

His reply was immediate:
*evil grin*

Friday was a long day of
lectures and committee meetings. Sarah firmly believed that committee
chairs who scheduled Friday afternoon meetings should have their toenails
violently ripped off and their eyes stabbed with needles, or something equally
and gratuitously tortuous. She was having a hard time sitting still when she
knew there was a bottle of wine chilling in her refrigerator and a black satin
chemise eagerly waiting to slide over her smooth skin. Unfortunately, there was
the start of a headache threatening to toy with her, so she downed a cup of
coffee hoping the caffeine would quell the rumblings of pain. She just needed
to get home, get the kids fed and off to her mom’s and then get ready for him.
Come
on Auto Pilot, help me get through this. I’m in survival mode
.

As if she needed any
more distractions, images of James from their first night together persistently
popped into her mind: his smoldering, half-closed eyes; the flickering flame of
the candle highlighting the contours of his chest muscles; his hands, thick and
tan, grazing her curves. She remembered how he looked the next morning
when they awoke, limbs still entangled. When he finally stumbled out of
bed, he was bleary-eyed as he pulled his boxers over his bulging calf muscles
and up his taut thighs. She remembered how they stood pressed against each
other at the door, their bodies resistant to the layers of fabric separating
their skin. She’d rested her head on his shoulder as he embraced her,
kissing her softly as he turned the door handle, whispering goodbye. Last
week at this time, she thought that goodbye was final. She’d given up hope of
ever seeing him again, but now she was expecting him to arrive at her house in
just a few hours. She felt like she was stepping off a roller coaster: disoriented,
but thrilled.

Sarah snapped out of her
daydream just in time for a committee vote. She wasn’t sure she even knew what
the vote was for but she decided to diplomatically join the majority.
Gotta love academia; can’t even go to the bathroom
without putting it to a vote.
She glanced at her watch: 3:45. Fifteen
minutes till adjournment, also known as freedom; she was unapologetically
counting down. When the time arrived, she avoided idle chit chat with her
colleagues, hightailed it across campus, hustled to the parking lot, hopped in
her Toyota and braced herself for navigating the always-snarled Friday
afternoon traffic in the metro area.  

Finally, three hours
later she was showered, freshly shaven and alone in her quiet, candlelit house.
In all the times she’d had company of the male variety, she wasn’t sure she’d
ever felt this degree of anticipation, evidenced by her thighs quivering and
her heart thundering in her ribcage. She looked in the mirror, running a hand
through her long dark tresses and adjusting her breasts in the chemise to
maximize cleavage. She loved the way her pale skin contrasted with the
silky black fabric. She felt both covered and exposed in all the right places. She
slid on a pair of three inch peep toe high heels in a sultry red to complete
her look.
All dressed up and only going to bed
, she mused, wondering if
men appreciated these sorts of efforts. More specifically:
would James
appreciate this effort?  

Moments later she saw
his silhouette appear against the sheer curtain that obscured the door to the
back porch. She calmly walked to the door, unlocked it, turned the knob
and was greeted by a flash of his incorrigible boyish grin. But the grin
immediately dissolved as soon as he soaked up the image of Sarah in her black
satin gown.  He looked genuinely surprised; perhaps stunned was a better
word. “You look...” he struggled to find the right words, “amazing...” was what
he settled on. His voice was barely a whisper as he drew her into his
arms.

She lifted her chin and
caught a glimpse of his blue gaze before her eyes closed and her lips brushed
against his, gently parting for his tongue to have his first taste of her. She
heard him deeply inhale her scent.
I think my question of him appreciating
my efforts has been answered
, she thought victoriously. There were other
thoughts trying to bubble up as well but she pushed them down, choosing instead
to think about why they were still standing in what was essentially the laundry
room.

She stumbled backwards a
bit, forgetting for a moment that she was wearing heels. She burst out laughing
at her own clumsiness, which in turn made James laugh, and then they were
standing there, mutual laughter ringing through her empty house.
Wow, that’s
either one hell of a way to diffuse the intensity or it just fucking killed the
mood
, Sarah observed. She hoped for the former as she led him down the
hallway and up the stairs to her bedroom, which had been prepared with just the
right amount of candlelight, scent, and soft music.

James had regained his
composure during their trek upstairs and upon glancing down at Sarah again, his
attention was diverted to the lace on the bodice of her gown, or more
specifically to how her nipples jutted out against the edges of the fabric. He
could see their light brownish pink flesh peeking through the space between the
black lace flowers. He bent and ran the tip of his tongue lightly over one
nipple and then looked up at her expectantly.

Sarah had spent quite a
bit of time in the past week trying to decide what kind of lover James was.
 Is
he experienced? Is he dominant? Is he skilled?
 All of those
attributes had been concealed, perhaps overridden by the sheer power of the
connection she felt with him. It was as if their bodies were learning each
other during their first encounter, and now was the time for their minds to
follow. During their first night, she felt they had connected on a
completely subconscious, visceral level but now consciousness had seeped in and
Sarah wanted to know where his mind could take her.

He was only twenty-nine. She
had no idea of his previous lovers, either quality or quantity. She didn’t even
know if he’d ever been married before or ever had a serious girlfriend. He had
asked her very little about her experience and not wanting to intimidate him,
she’d elected not to volunteer any information about her past or present. Now
her mind was reeling; she was barely concentrating on his tongue flicking her
other nipple. The nipple was responding perfectly, but Sarah was left thinking
what
if last time was just a fluke? 
She suddenly felt a twinge of
nervousness accompanied by a slight somersault in her stomach.
           
There
it is again, that expectant look. Is he expecting direction?
 Sarah taught for a living. She didn’t want to teach
in the bedroom.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never been into younger men  I
want someone who can take control
.
 And, let’s face it, I’m
strong-willed; not every man has that capacity.
 She met his eyes with
smoldering intensity and delivered one, simple direction: “I want you to take
me.”

It was as if that was
all he needed to hear.

James pressed Sarah up
against the wall next to the bed, his body weight pinning her. He began to
devour her, starting with her lips and then moving down to her ears, neck,
chest and then back to the nipples that had captivated him moments before. All
the thoughts that had been swirling in Sarah’s mind vanished as blood rushed to
other parts of her body. His ravishing left her weak in the knees and
unsteady on her high heels. In attempt to regain her balance, she opened her
eyes but he was staring back intently, waiting for her to meet his gaze. Once
their eyes locked she heard him undo his belt buckle and unfasten his pants. He
stepped back from her a bit and she heard the rustle of his pants hitting the
floor, his eyes never leaving hers. He took her hand and pressed it against his
groin so that she could feel his erection bulging through his boxer briefs. “This
is what you do to me,” he told her.

Sarah slowly dropped to
her knees before him and slid her thumbs under the waistband of his underwear,
pulling it down to the floor on top of the pants. His thick, rock-hard
cock sprung out from the material into her face. She kissed along his inner
thigh and testicles, then with agonizingly slow strokes of her tongue, she
licked up his shaft and around the head of his cock. She covered every inch of
his manhood with her wet, hungry mouth. She glanced up long enough to see his
eyes roll back in his head as she took him as far as possible to the back of
her throat, nearly gagging herself on his engorged flesh.  She slid her
mouth back up his length and then, after a tortuously long pause, abruptly
plunged back down again on him, eliciting a guttural moan. She teased the
tip with her tongue until she thought he might come unglued. His need had grown
so urgent that he grabbed her head and plunged deep into her throat, his hands
laced through her hair. She braced herself by grasping his muscular calves
as he thrusted in and out of her mouth until she could no longer fill her lungs
with enough air to breathe and began to push away.

He released her head and
she pulled back several inches, stroking him with her hand, watching the
glistening shaft disappear in and out of her clenched fist, glancing up at his
lusty eyes. She witnessed a drop of pearly fluid appear at the tip of his cock
which she savored on her tongue while he moaned at her enjoyment of his taste. His
thighs were trembling beneath her fingers as she took him into her mouth yet
again. He was clearly holding back. She had half a mind to suck him to
completion, but before she could commit to it, he pulled her to her feet,
ripped the chemise off her, whipped her around and pushed her down onto the bed
face first.

In seconds, she felt his
warm body slide against hers. His hand traced down her spine and gripped her
ass cheeks as the other hand held his throbbing cock between her legs. Feeling
him so close to spreading her lips, brushing up against them but not quite
inside them, was driving her absolutely wild. Although he had yet to touch her
there, she knew without a doubt that she was soaking wet with desire. 
This
is what you do to me
, she thought as she suddenly heard him produce a
slight gasp and realized that some of her juices had dripped onto the head of
his cock and he was feeling her silky wetness against his hot flesh.

He continued to stroke
down her back all the way to her bottom, caressing and kneading her ample
curves with his strong hands. She could barely concentrate on how amazing his
hands felt massaging her flesh because all of her blood had pooled in her sex. The
totality of her energy was fixated on his hardness being so close to penetrating
her, but yet so far away. She pushed back against him, eager to feel him
inside her, but the passage was still tight and closed.
Eager is an
understatement
, she corrected herself. 
I’m fucking
impatient. I’m impatient to fuck. PLEASE FUCK ME!!!

Yet now he was the one
in control.
Which I asked for
, she reminded herself.
How ironic.
He had found his stride and wanted to make her yearn for him as much as he
yearned for her. He twisted her long wavy locks in his palm and wrapped the
thick dark band twice around his knuckles, pulling her head toward him and forcing
her to arch her back. With his other hand, he repositioned his cock so that the
head rested between her soaking wet lips. She gasped, conflicted over the
pain radiating from her scalp mixed with the anticipation burning against her
throbbing slit. “Is this what you want?” he demanded, pushing only the tip
almost imperceptibly inside her.

She was silent except
for her heavy panting. He pulled back harder on his makeshift rein to force a
reply and she cried out, “Yes!”  

He was still not
satisfied with her answer and his cock was suspended, the tip still buried in
the entrance to her pussy. He was winning the battle of their wills. She could
not imagine wanting anything more desperately at that moment than she wanted
him inside her. He gripped her ass again and commanded her, “Tell me what you
want, Sarah.”

“I want your cock inside
me,” Sarah moaned. “Please....please, James, please....”

Without another word, he
plunged hard into the depth of her, causing her to scream out as she bucked
against him, impaling herself on his stiff rod as fast as he would allow her
to, her climax half-built before his first thrust. Her breathing was ragged and
punctuated by moans. James continued to grip her by her hair and held steady,
letting her push back against his pelvis until he decided he’d had enough and
forcibly took back control of her. Without warning, he released her hair,
pushed her face down onto the mattress, forcing her ass high into the air. He
firmly grasped her hips, his fingers pressing into her soft, feminine flesh,
and drilled into her relentlessly. Even though her sound was muffled by
the mattress, he heard her cry out, and the sensation was so overwhelmingly
intense that he began to moan as well. Both found their release at precisely
the same exquisite moment, wrapped in the same intensity of vocalizations,
their bodies violently shuddering against each other with each spasm.