Old Enough To Know Better (12 page)

Cat knew that she was out of vogue.  She wasn’t supposed to have any hair there at all, and if she did, it was supposed to be shaved into something cute or interesting or funny, or waxed to within an inch of its life.  The mere thought made her cringe.  Her pubic hair was fair, like the rest of her body hair, and barely noticeable.  More so the more she aged, and the older she got the less likely she was to futz with it.

Clint had never cared about it, and he was the one that was confronted with it the most.  She was the least likely of the two of them to do anything about it.

“Sorry about the thicket,” she felt compelled to say, certain that he probably never seen such a jungle, considering that the clean shaven look had been in style for quite some time.

“Stop that,” he frowned up at her.  “I’ll let you know if you have something to feel sorry about.”

Cat didn’t like the sound of that idea at all, and frowned back down at him, but she couldn’t hold it when his mouth descended upon her, and he reached beneath her to use her hips to pull her towards him.  Her legs fell away, naturally, and his shoulders held them well up and back, granting him unrestricted access to every intimate inch of her.

He was ready.  He was more than ready.  He’d been ready for her since before he was really capable of dealing with a woman of her caliber.  Yet here she was, now, lying before him, open and yielding, allowing him to pleasure her and take her for his own, trusting him with the honor of all of herself.

It was almost overwhelming. 

He could smell the rich scent of her, feel her heat, see the moistness that he had created within her.  He had done that to her, made her ripen and swell to his touch.  His mouth teased at first, raining butterfly kisses over that entire exposed, vulnerable area, making her moan and arch and plead wordlessly for his favor.

“Shh-shh-shh, my love.  In a minute.  These things cannot be rushed,” he whispered against the inside of her thigh before biting it gently, then wandering back down to the secrets hidden inside those distended lips.  He was of a mind to press his fingers inside her, but he decided against it.  He wanted to open her with his cock, knowing it had been a good long while since she had been made love to, and wanting to feel that gloved tightness around the steely length that was clamoring for his own end.

But not before hers.

Finn ruthlessly clamped down on his own desire and pressed a loving kiss directly on top of that burgeoning bud, licking it gently back and forth with only the veriest tip of his tongue.  He could hear her moans at being treated that way, knowing it was nowhere near enough to give her what she wanted.  She was demanding, his love, keening and nearly crying in her desire for fulfillment.

It was music to his ears.

“Please – Finn – please –” she cried.

“Oh, darlin’, you don’t have to beg; it’s coming, it’s coming,” he crooned, settling better into his spot and addressing her more seriously, fingers of one hand holding her wide open for his greedy delectation while the other reached under to remind her that she’d been spanked not too long ago, squeezing what was probably a still aching bottom cheek.

It was more than Cat could bear.  Much, much more.  She’d held off for as long as she could, not wanting to sully Clint’s memory, not wanting to give in, not wanting to let go of him and sully what they’d had together, but Finn was relentlessly pushing her past all of those self imposed barriers with his calmly dominant attitude and his warm, wet mouth.

When she finally contracted beneath those all too knowing lips and fingers, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.  It wasn’t one big explosion and then a lot of little reverberations, it was one, gigantic explosion that seemed to go on and on and on, never diminishing in intensity at all.  It went on so long that Cat began to get scared, and the person she would normally turn to wasn’t there.

Finn was very attuned to Catherine, but he hadn’t been expecting this.  There was no way he could have anticipated it.  When he realized what was happening, all thoughts of his own pleasure dissolved in the face of trying to reassure her that she was okay.

She seemed to be trying to leave, which he wasn’t about to allow, so he simply caught her and rolled with her, gathering her in the bedclothes and swaddling her against him.  She was crying, and it was horrid.  He’d thought it was bad when she cried when he spanked her.  This was a million times worse, especially since he wasn’t exactly sure how to help her.  “What can I do, honey?”  He held her tightly against him.

“T-tell m-me t-to s-stop,” she shivered out.

“Stop?” he asked densely.  “Stop what?”

“Cu-mming!”

Instead of doing it immediately, Finn had to stop and think about that.  In some ways, women had all the luck.  What he wouldn’t give to be able to engage in a non stop orgasm.  Who was he kidding?  If that was possible, he’d never leave the house.  Hell, the whole male population of the planet would never leave their house.

“FINN!”

“Stop, baby, stop.  I want you to do as I say and stop cumming right now, Catherine, or I’ll flip you over and give you a spanking.”  He wasn’t at all sure if the threat would help, but he figured it couldn’t hurt, and he would certainly do it if she needed it.

She’d stopped shaking and spasming almost immediately.  Finn was kind of proud of himself for the achievement.  He’d never given a woman a continuous orgasm before.  Hell, he’d never even heard of one before now.

“Are you okay?” he whispered against her ear.

She just nodded, still crying silently.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time, then laughed somewhat awkwardly.

“What do you have to be sorry about?” Finn asked.  “It was your orgasm.”

“Well, you gave it to me,” Cat answered, laying her head on his chest where it was already wet with her tears. 

“I guess there’s really no harm, no foul, with an orgasm, but I’m sorry it scared you.  I take it that’s never happened before?”

She shook her head.  “Never.  Usually it – well, it’s a big first contraction and then smaller, like aftershocks, and then it just kinda fades away on its own, but this one’s intensity never abated.  It just kept going and going . . .”

“The Energizer Bunny of orgasms.  I like that.”  He liked it better that he’d made her smile.

“You okay?” he aaksed, for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah.  Sorry for the interruption in what has otherwise been a wonderful evening.”  Cat reached up and kissed him on the lips a little tentatively, then with more passion.

It didn’t take much to spark Finn’s interest again, but he didn’t want to be an insensitive pig.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

In answer, she kissed him again, more deeply this time, then reached down between them and gently grasped him, ruining the effect by giggling at the way he moaned uncontrollably at her touch.

“I’m going to have to remember that the next time you’re threatening to spank me!  I have a secret weapon to use as a diversion!”

He rolled them both just slightly so that she was on her back, inserting his legs deliberately but slowly between hers, giving her more than enough time to object if she needed or wanted to.  “Oh, you might succeed in that at first, but remember:  I’m younger, and I have a better memory, so you wouldn’t get away with it for long.”

Cat frowned.  “Hey, that ain’t right!  That’s another reason why we shouldn’t be together.  I need someone my own age who’s more likely to forget my transgressions than remember to correct me for them!”

He’d brought her legs up and back further than she would have thought they’d go, but hadn’t entered her yet, although she could feel the head of him pressing insistently against her.

“Look at me, Catherine,” he commanded, his tone far from the teasing one he’d just used.

She did as she was told.

He didn’t say it, but he didn’t want her thinking of Clint when he took her for the first time.  Finn wanted her to watch him, to acknowledge and know in her heart that he was the one who was making love to her.  He wasn’t going to allow her to use him as a substitute for Clint.

Dear God, he was enormous!  Or maybe it was just that it had been a while, but he was stretching her almost to the point of discomfort, despite the ample butter her body was generously providing. 

Each soft keen, the way she gripped his shoulders and half mewled made him want to plunge himself into her to the very hilt.  But he refused to do so.  He wanted this possession to take a long time.  He didn’t want to hurt her, and he wanted her to remember every second, every millimeter of it.

Finn hooked her legs over his elbows, forcing her back even further, forcibly lifting her bottom off the bed and opening her even further to him as he let his body weight do its job.  Their eyes never wavered from each other; he could see that she was just short of pain, just shy of it, riding that edge carefully, and when he finally stopped, he rocked in just that much harder, pumping with his hips, pressing and shifting side to side, fitting himself into her completely while she gasped and moaned and fought to accommodate him.

He couldn’t help it.  He threw back his head and roared, his body taking over as he began to delve in and out of her, hard thrust after even harder thrust, until, a humiliatingly short time later, he roared again, uncontrollably and collapsed on top of her, completely spent and unable to move.

Finn had never, ever lost control of himself like that before.  He had always kept himself under a tight leash, especially when he was in bed with a woman, mostly because of his size.  Now, here he was with the woman he’d waited his lifetime for, and he’d let loose on her like some kind of savage.  He’d practically raped her, and he’d screamed like a banshee.

She would probably throw him out of the house and never see him again.

But instead, he realized that her hands were making lazy patterns on his back, sometimes massaging, which felt absolutely wonderful, and sometimes just trailing her fingertips over his muscles, which didn’t feel too awfully bad, either.  She didn’t seem to be in the least mad at him.

He rolled off her and to the side, certain that he was also crushing the life out of her with his size; the majority of the women he’d slept with had complained if he didn’t get off them pretty much immediately after finishing, so he’d gotten used to doing that.

Cat rolled towards him with a small smile on her face.  “Good thing we bought all of the lots around us for miles or we’d have Sheriff Potter to explain ourselves to, I’m sure, and that old coot’d be having a good time with our story, too.”  She patted his arm.  “It wasn’t continuous, but it sounded pretty good . . .?”

She was asking him if it was okay?  He wasn’t used to that, either.  Maybe he’d been dating some pretty awful women, or something.  The girls he’d slept with always seemed to assume that they were great in bed – they didn’t try very hard – because he always came.  “Oh yeah!”

She laughed at his vehemence.

“Sorry about . . . the quickness . . . “

Her snort was surprising.  “Puh-leeze.  If you’re not going to worry about a little hysteria on my part . . . “

He wasn’t going to tell her how long it had been for him because talking about premature ejaculation was uncomfortable at anytime for any man, and it hadn’t been quite as long for him as it had for her, but it had been a while.  Finn was certain that he’d be more than fine in the future.

Like probably about fifteen minutes from now.

The next morning, she awoke alone, but he’d left her a note, and, of course, more rules.

My love:

Words fail me at the trust and faith you’ve shown in me in such a short time.  Know that you are treasured beyond measure.

I have business in Boston and will be gone until Saturday night, when we’ll go out.  I’ve made plans for everything, so nothing for you to do but be your gorgeous self.

You are to eat three nutritious meals a day, and keep track of your weight to tell me about when I get home.

I know you’ll think it’s too early for me to say this but I love you.

Yours adoringly,

Finn

The purple roses arrived right on time, this time five dozen of them.  And then an edible fruit arrangement, a cookie basket . . . and the gift boxes and baskets just kept right on coming.  One had old time candies from the seventies – Bottle Caps and Clark Bars and Laffy Taffy – things she would have sworn they’d stopped making years ago.

He called her at least once a day, usually two or three times, just to check up on her.  It was kind of sweet of him to do that, and nice to have someone doing that again, not that she’d ever admit that to him, of course.  He asked her what she’d eaten and what she weighed, and she’d earned herself another spanking on the first phone call the first night when she hadn’t weighed herself that day.

And claiming early senility hadn’t gotten her out of it, either.  There had to be some advantage to being old in this relationship, didn’t there?

So this weekend was going to be a busy one for her.  It was a Girls’ Night weekend at her house, suddenly; she didn’t know how she’d let that slip by her, but she did.  And Saturday they were apparently going out somewhere she knew nothing about, and about which he was not being very forthcoming.  He’d just told her to “wear something nice”.  It was probably a good thing that he couldn’t see her rolling her eyes at him.

Girls’ Night consisted of a floating pool of women, but usually a core of about five of them who had known each other for much, much too long.  They all knew about most of the skeletons in everyone’s family closets, going back generations.  In some cases, their mothers had had Girls’ Nights, although they’d called it Bridge Night or Game Night instead, and they’d drunk a lot less and sworn a lot less than their daughters and granddaughters.

Jane had shown up first, of course, but luckily after Cat had hidden all of Finn’s excessive gifts in the back bedroom, where no one was likely to go, although she had used some of the excess in the snack trays.  Why not?  She certainly wasn’t going to eat all of that food by herself by any means.