Under the Cornerstone (26 page)

I push the questions out of my head and make it my mission to worship her like I should’ve been doing for years now. I kiss her softly, plunging my tongue in and out of her mouth. She gives it back to me. When she wraps her hands around my neck and pulls me closer, I almost combust on the spot.

A hand runs through my hair and I let her set the pace of the kiss. She’s the one who increases the intensity so much that it makes my chest ache. My fingertips touch every bit of skin I can, running gently across the planes of her body. I’m touching places I’ve only ever dreamed of touching. She touches me back. Her hands push under my shirt and slowly rise from my stomach to my chest and then over my shoulders to my upper back.

Please don’t ever let this be over.

We must spend half an hour in the bathroom getting intimate with each other’s body. I reach down and gently grab her by the hips and pull her up my body where she wraps her legs around my middle. I turn and take her to her bed. I take care with her as I ease her down on her back, and then I climb between her legs. My denim-clad dick hits her pussy which is only covered by her panties. She moans against the friction.

That’s what she sounds like and the sound alone elicits a “fuck” from me.

We continue kissing and rubbing against each other until once again, I’m overwhelmed with a different kind of guilt.

I’m taking advantage of her. She can’t make this decision right now.

I look down into her eyes and find her eyes clouded with arousal and her plump lips swollen from my kiss. The man in me wants to bang on his chest and let the entire world know that I know what she looks like now. I know what she looks like when she’s beneath me.

I beg her, "Tell me no.”

She doesn’t say anything.

Tell me to stop, Noe. Don’t let me fuck us up. I can’t lose you.

She stares at me for a long moment, but the second she pushes her pelvis against mine, I dive back in and kiss her again. I’ll take it slow and give her time to back out of this.

Jesus Christ, which one of us is supposed to be the responsible one here?

I lose the ability to process my thoughts rationally when her fingertips dig into the skin of my lower back and push my shirt up to my head. I break the kiss and let her pull it off of me. I unhook her bra and pull it away from her body. I look down at her chest and almost stop breathing. I don’t even think about what I do next. My hand reaches out and my fingertips glide over her nipples and breasts. Her nipples grow harder when I touch them.

"I always knew you'd be this beautiful," I tell her.

She reaches for the button on my jeans and I suddenly feel like a teenager again. I cautiously run a finger along the top hem of her panties as I lean down and kiss her again. She unbuttons my jeans and pushes them down along with my boxers causing me to moan in her mouth. Her hand reaches for my cock, and I freak the fuck out.

What if she doesn’t like what she finds?

Fuck me.

I break the kiss, sit up on my knees, and speak through my panting, "Fuck, Noely. If you touch me, I won't be able to stop.”

I’m on the verge of a panic attack again. I’m fucking up. I can stop this now. It’ll take some time, but we’ll get back to being us. Then I realize if I stop, I’ll only fuck her up worse. She’ll think I don’t want her. She’ll think I’m repulsed by what he did to her. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

I absently touch the inside of her thighs while I try to keep myself from scaring her. She scoots down the bed towards my hand, and once again I’m incapable of control. I watch her face as I push the fabric aside and rub the pad of my thumb up the middle of her wet pussy.

Fuck. She’s wet for me. Her back arches and she moans loud as fuck.

All I can manage to say is, "Shit.”

I slide a finger inside of her and she lets out a string of profanity through her labored breathing.

"God, Noe."

Before I can stop her, she reaches down and grabs my cock. I almost come on contact. I pull my finger out of her and then kick my pants off. I pull out a condom and roll it on. I pull her panties down her legs in haste and look down at her one last time.

Tell me to stop, Noe.

She looks up at me with the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen. I put off the inevitable for reasons I can’t really explain. Maybe it was the smirk, but I pull her legs over my shoulders and lean down to her pussy. I kiss her lips and then lick up the middle.

She arches her back again and yells out, “Oh fuck.”

Goddamn.

"Tastes so fucking good," I say and put a finger in her again.  

She digs her fingers into my scalp, encouraging me to go deeper. I suck every inch of that pussy and swear I’ll never go down on another woman after this. She’s the filet mignon of pussy eating.

"Don't stop,” she begs.

I realize she’s close to coming and I can’t last much longer with her sounding like this.

I pull away from her, place a kiss at her hipbone and say, "I want you to come with me.”

I kiss all the way up her body until she’s writhing beneath me again. She pulls her knees back and encourages me to dive in, but I hesitate as the guilt tries to take over again.

She has to really want this for me to do it.

"Put me in," I whisper against her neck.

To my surprise, she does. She grips me and guides me inside. I pull my face from her neck and kiss her as I push inside.

My eyes roll behind my closed lids. She’s so fucking tight.

I have to stop before I come right now and look like a chump. While I collect myself, I kiss her. She eventually starts squirming underneath me for more. I give in to her, like I always do. I give in like I have for fifteen years.

I move slow so I can feel every inch of her inside. I don’t know if I’ll ever be here again and I want to memorize what it feels like to be inside of her. I want to dream about this for the rest of my life. I cover her lips, face, neck, shoulders, and chest with kisses. I run my hands all over every visible inch of her body as I slowly push in and out of her. She’s so wet for me.

She places her hands on my lower back and pushes me into her as if encouraging me to speed up.

"You're not hurting me,” she says.

That’s good to know, but fuck, I can’t speed up because it will end quickly. I may only have one shot at this with her. I can’t just fuck her quick and let it be over. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I need to remember every second of this. I don’t say anything in response and keep moving inside of her, feeling the pull of her pussy every time I pull back.

I don’t rush. I never rush. Not with her. I enjoy every second of this with her. It’s so much more than I ever thought it would be. I kiss her deeply and try to relay to her what I can’t say with my words. When I open my eyes, she’s staring into mine.

I hope she can see what’s behind mine. I hope she can see what’s been there all along.

When I feel her pussy start to quiver, I push my hand under her right ass cheek and pull her up, adjusting the angle so she can get her release.

"Fuck. Right there,” she says as her back arches and her head is thrown back.

I kiss her chin while she waits for the explosion to hit her. I can’t stand not to be able to see her eyes, so I push my free hand under her head and bring her eyes to mine.

Her pussy clamps down on me and this etches down in my memory as one of the moments I never want to forget. No woman has ever clamped down on me so hard I could barely move inside of her. She screams out my name making my chest ache again. I stare down at her as her mouth parts and her breaths come out choppy.

Fucking beautiful.

I pull on her ass cheek even harder, bringing her closer to me. Her pussy hasn’t relaxed very much and I can’t hold on. I can barely move inside of her. I use my hand behind her head to pull on a handful of hair. I start to come and feel the euphoric wave wash over my body.

Pure fucking bliss.

I press my lips to hers and the last of my orgasm causes the oddest shiver to run through me. I pull out of her, look down at her beautiful face, and know I have to hold on to her tightly now. I can’t let her go. I remove the condom, and fall down on the bed beside her. I pull her into my chest and listen to her sigh until she eventually falls asleep.

Chapter Thirty

“Dad, why don’t I have a mom?” I ask him.

I’m in kindergarten when I realized today that I was missing something all my classmates seems to have. A lot of the kids I go to school with didn’t have dads, but most of them have moms. It’s strange to hear them talk about all of the things they do with their moms. I don’t know where mine is or if I even have one.

“Come here, son,” my dad says.

He pulls out a chair for me and turns it to face him. Then he picks me up and places me in the chair. He messes up my hair and smiles down at me.

“What made you ask that question?” he asks.

“Most of the kids at school have moms. Do I have a mom?”

“Everybody who is born has a mom and dad somewhere. Sometimes, moms and dads die.”

Before he can continue I interrupt him, “Did my mom die?”

“No, son. She didn’t die. Sometimes moms and dads aren’t good people and so they can’t take care of their kids.”

“Is my mom a bad person?” I interrupt again.

He sighs at my second interruption, “No, Johnny. Your mom isn’t a bad person either. Your mom was just…. Well, she was a lot like a fairy. She was always smiling and flying around. When she had you it was really hard for her to be a fairy and get all her work done.”

“A fairy? Like Tinkerbell?” I ask thinking of one of my favorite movies,
Peter Pan
.

“She was a lot like Tinkerbell. She was so pretty, but it was really hard for her to be a fairy and be your mom too, so she let me have you. I was really happy when she let me have you.”

“She let you have me?” I ask.

“Well, you lived with your mom for the first year of your life. Then, one day she dropped you off here because the king of the fairies needed her to come back to work. She cried the day she had to leave you because she loved you so much, but I promised her that when you asked about her I would make sure I told you how much she loved you. I also promised her that I would tell you how much she didn’t want to leave you.”

“Being a fairy is really important,” I tell him.

I didn’t know much about life, but I know that much at five-years-old.

“Yes, it is,” he replies.

And just like that, my mom was a fairy. I was okay with my mom not being around because she was a fairy. Anytime the kids at school would ask why I didn’t have a mom, I told them my dad’s story. I told that story until the second grade. The older I got, the more I sensed something wasn’t quite right about my dad’s story. I didn’t tell the story after second grade, but I didn’t ask my dad again either.

In the fifth grade, Reuben Haynes told my entire class that my mother was a whore. Reuben is an asshole whose ass I beat in the eighth grade for his crimes. I’d held that grudge for almost three years. Still, Reuben told the entire fucking class my mom was a whore.

I sat on that for two weeks before I muster up enough courage to ask my dad again.

“Dad, can I talk to you?” I asked with my squeaky voice that was changing every day.

“Sure son. Do you need help with your homework?” he asks.

“No,” I answer and then I tell him what Reuben told the class and how angry I am.

My dad once again pulls a chair to face him, but this time he asks me to sit down. He rubs his forehead and sighs.

“Johnny, your mom was a beautiful woman. She was a gifted dancer, and for many years she was a ballerina at the New York City Ballet. She worked really hard to get there. I met her through a mutual friend one night after one of her shows and fell in love with her. I always thought it was love at first sight,” his eyes fade off likes he’s remembering things that are too painful for him.

“We dated for a year and then she got pregnant with you. She could only dance for the first four months of her pregnancy. She gained weight and was asked to leave the ballet company until after she had you and could maintain her previous weight. She moved in with her parents, and had you. I tried to get her to move in with me so we could be a family, but she came from money. She was used to living a certain lifestyle. I didn’t have the money to give her the same luxuries. She had you and I saw you every chance I got. She never kept me from you, but she wouldn’t move in with me either. For the first three months of your life, she worked hard to get her figure and previous weight back. For the last six months of that first year, she tried to get back on with the ballet company here in New York, but there weren’t any positions available. She became really depressed and you ended up spending most nights with me. She had a hard time taking care of herself, so she couldn’t really take care of you. She got better when you were around nine months old and you spent about half your time with her and half with me. Four days after you turned a year old, she showed up at my door with you. She said she’d found a company in Russia that offered her a position dancing. She asked me to come with her, but she didn’t love me and I didn’t want to move to Russia. She cried when she told me I had to keep you because she couldn’t take you with her. She promised to return to the states a few months later to see you,” he ends with a hard swallow and looks down at his feet.

“Did she ever come back to see me?” I ask.

“No, son. She stayed in Russia for about five more years before she was released. Once you reach a certain age, it’s difficult to get a job dancing in a ballet company. The last I heard she was out in Vegas dancing.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“I think she was a showgirl for a while,” he says uneasily.

I had an idea what a showgirl was, but I’d research more later.

“So, she just fucking left me?” I ask with so much anger.

“Johnny, she loved you.”

“Did she love me more than dancing?!!” I yell at my dad.

He stares at me and refuses to answer, but we both knew the answer to my question. She didn’t love me. She left me. I didn’t have a mom because she was a selfish bitch, and she might be a whore too. I instantly hate all my friends who have mothers. I loathe the ones that have good mothers.