Vacant (8 page)

After a few moments, his hand slides up my arm to my neck, landing on my earlobe. “I remember that you only wear stud earrings because you’re afraid of getting them caught on something.” His tongue snakes out a lightly traces the tip of my ear.

“I also remember that you don’t wear necklaces....” His hand floats to cup my neck and then draws a finger down my breastbone and into my
enhanced
cleavage.

Ethan shifts on the sofa and pulls something from his pocket. He hands me a small black box with a red bow.

“But I’m hoping to change that.” Ethan finishes. I open the box and see the most delicate, yet beautiful necklace. A small silver disc holds the date we pledged our love for each other.
One year ago, today
.

I find that I can’t resist this thoughtful man. Not only has he not forgotten our anniversary, but he has also purchased the perfect gift. I seductively maneuver myself so that I’m facing Ethan. I straddle his lap and then kiss him like my life depends on it. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” I mumble in between kisses.

I always get this feeling when Ethan and I are about to do it. It’s still a million tiny butterflies bouncing in my stomach trying to break free. Honestly, it’s the best feeling. The greatest part, though, is that each time is better than the last. I’m not sure if Ethan has been swapping stories in the stock room—although I doubt it, it’s not his style—or reading up on the internet, but things have really…exploded for us in the bedroom department. There was a
Get-to-know-you
period, which was followed by the
Awkward-movements
period. Then there was the
This-works-so-let’s-do-it-this-way-all-the-time
period. Lately, we’d found the “
Life is like a box of chocolates…
” period. And let me tell you, I may not know what I’m “
gonna get
,” but that shit is good. “
Chocolate”
is never a bad thing.

“And I remember,” Ethan pauses, breathing me in. “You
love
it when I kiss you here,” he finishes and then sucks my nipple into his mouth. The contrast in sensation of his soft, wet mouth and the lace fabric has me beyond aroused.

“New rule: all panties must be like this.” His hands rub across the exposed flesh of my butt, grabbing a handful of cheek to accentuate his point. Ethan’s kiss is now languid, his tongue reaching out and teasing my body. As he moves upward, our eyes connecting once again, he beckons my mouth to open and allow him inside. I’m totally lost to this man and would submit to anything he wanted but after a few moments, I remember I have a plan.

“Let’s move to the bedroom,” I say in my most seductive voice. “I have more surprises for you.” Before I even have a chance to stand, Ethan grabs me and stands, coaxing me to wrap my legs around him. He doesn’t carry me like this often, but when he does, there is no safer feeling in this world. He is totally supporting me, exerting his masculinity. I feel small pressed against him—a protector and his charge. “I love you,” I whisper and rest my head on his shoulder.

The journey down the hall to the bedroom is too short. I could stay wrapped up in Ethan this way forever, but I have a massage to render, so I regrettably pull myself from the security of his arms.

“Clothes off and lie down,” I command. Ethan raises a brow at me, showing he’s a little shocked by my demand. His smile, however, tells me he likes it. He quickly sheds his clothes and lies face down on the bed.

“No peeking,” I say while removing my bra and panties. I grab the oil from the nightstand and pour a liberal amount in my palm then rub my hands together. I slide my hands over his back and down over his backside, eliciting a moan from Ethan before I move myself into position. I shift and sit on top of his butt, cautious about fully putting my weight on him. “Is this okay? I’m not too heavy, am I?”

His barely intelligible grunt of no helps me relax a little more fully on top of him.

Per Hollywood protocol, I’ve trimmed myself so that I’m mostly exposed. I can’t help but grind against him, my bare skin seeking friction with his.

“Emily, that feels so good, but I can’t stand it. I gotta turn over and see you.”

I rise up to allow Ethan to turn. His hands immediately glide up my legs, his thumbs moving inward. They brush against the smooth skin that hides my clit.

“Say it for me.”

I know what he wants, as it has been Ethan’s new fascination. I turn red because no matter how many times I say it, I know it will embarrass me.

“Come on, say
pussy
for me. Tell me how you want my tongue on your
pussy
, then your mouth on my cock.”

I respond with a small yet nervous laugh. “Come on, my sweet baby girl,” Ethan coaxes.

Anything for this man…

“First, Ethan,” I begin with a little attitude. I can do this, and possibly without giggling. “I want my mouth on your
cock
.” I make sure to punctuate the word cock. “Then I want your mouth on my…
pussy
. And after I’ve screamed your name…I want your
cock
in my
pussy,
” I say wanting to add a little naughtiness.

That should do it.

“Holy—” Ethan doesn’t finish his thought as his words are replaced with vowel sounds when my mouth takes him in. It took me a few tries to get used to the idea of his…cock…in my mouth, but now there are times I crave it. Ethan says the same thing about going down on me.

“Bring that pussy up here. I need you in my mouth. God, Emily, I—”

I know what he means, even though he doesn’t finish saying it. It’s always like this, and I hope it always will be. Sometimes, I think I could just come without him touching me; just thinking about his hands and mouth on me is enough. I feel like this level of obsession can’t be healthy, though and I shouldn’t want someone so much, so often.

“Oh fuck….fuck, fuck. Emily, stop.” Ethan lifts me off of him and lays me on my stomach. He licks down my spine and softly bites my ass. His hands grab at my flesh, separating my cheeks. “Push your ass up a little, baby. Let me see that perfect little pussy.”

Unnnfff…

As soon as I comply, his tongue is back on me, tasting me. He’s a master at this now. His thumbs rub at my clit while his tongue lavishes attention to my pussy. It only takes a minute before I’m panting and trying to grind my pelvis into the bed. “Nuh uhh. Keep those hips up,” Ethan reminds me.

As much as I enjoy this, I really want the main event.

“Ethan,” I moan. I hope my needy groan tells him I can’t wait anymore.

“Don’t beg. Never beg, sweetheart.”

Ethan pushes me forward, and my chest is now pressed into the mattress. He holds his cock and strokes me a few times before drawing back and sliding inside me. The description of fullness seems so trite, but it’s the most accurate description. When Ethan enters me, we are connected, one in mind, body, and soul. “I wish you could see this, Emily; how my cock glides in and out of you…seeing your wetness on my dick.”

Ethan stops and runs his hand down through my lips, gathering moisture. “Turn over.”

He grasps his cock and begins to stroke himself. Within seconds, his lips are back on my breast, tugging at my nipple with his teeth. After a few more moments, he leans back, hooks my thighs with his forearms, and pulls me forward. He wastes no time in aligning himself and sliding home again. With my legs pushed back, he can get so much deeper and I feel him in my belly. His thrusts become aggressive and I know that he’s close.

“Do you want me to take you this way, or do you want to ride me, so I can see your tits bounce?” Ethan quickly adjusts himself so that he’s sitting up. He pulls me into his lap. “Or maybe like this, so I can see your perfect face and the glisten of sweat that forms on your nose as you come?”

All of Ethan’s dirty talk is driving me crazy, and quite frankly, I don’t care how we get the job done because I’m ready to burst. He lies back, pulling me with him. His hands knead the flesh of my breasts as I moan and writhe on top of him. “I want to come inside you, baby,” he pleads.

I’ll never deny him.

As soon as we are connected again, we grasp hands, me using him for leverage. The first few times we did it this way, I felt self-conscious, but now I love the feeling of control and power I have to bring him to his end, to coax his lust and love from his body as it spills into mine.

I meet my climax first, but Ethan soon follows. We collapse together, me still on top of him. I hug him like a child hugs her favorite teddy bear, and feel safe, warm, and satisfied.

We lay together for a while, just caressing and kissing. It is always like this—the tenderness afterward. We’d never…
deep breath
… fucked. I adored our lovemaking, but also wanted to know what it felt like to be taken in the dressing room of Victoria Secret or the bathroom stall at a nightclub. But we had time, time to experience all of those things. This was the end of one year in a long line of many. Margie says that’s love and I just need to go with it. She explained there is a natural progression and I won’t always ache for him. She explained that-- eventually, he’ll just be a small pain in my ass.

“I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you, Emily. Happy anniversary.”

~Family~

The last five years have been unbelievable in more ways than one. It’s been a long, difficult road, no doubt about it. There’s fighting…and making up, money problems and tears, but we always make it through, and we make it through together. We are, however, about to experience three of the biggest changes in our lives thus far.

Margie is retiring and a new manager will take her place. I’m pretty sure I know a candidate who is a shoe-in. Ethan has taken his duties as assistant manager very seriously. Margie confided to me that it would be a proud moment to see Ethan take her place. The salary increase was nothing to joke about either, and this promotion was enabling us to finally buy our own home. It wouldn’t be fancy or lavish, but it would be
ours
.

Margie has been an enormous support system for both Ethan and me. She’s stepped in as the mother figure we both needed as we transitioned to new parts of our lives. One could say that I should have been bitter about a “stand-in” mother, but I never saw it that way. She has been my savior more than once, but when I first met Margie, I wasn’t sure what to think.

“
Can I help you?”

“
Well, I was looking for Ethan.” The woman was small, but spoke with assurance. “Does he still live here?” I hadn’t known what to tell her. It flashed through my mind when I answered the door that perhaps this was the landlord and someone had reported us. Ethan wasn’t supposed to have anyone living with him. I shouldn’t have cared if he got in trouble after the way he up and left me after I spilled my guts to him, but I just couldn’t be angry with him—no matter how hard I tried.

“
I’m Margie, Ethan’s boss.”

I stalled in answering her, debating whether I should invite her in.

“
Dear…?”

“
Oh, sorry
—
I’m uh…” I didn’t know whether to give my real name. My gut told me that this woman was harmless.

“
It’s Emily.” My mother taught me to never give more information than necessary.

“
Well, Emily, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

That day, Margie invited herself into the duplex and into my life. She was there to comfort me as I cried my eyes out and told her the events leading up to Ethan leaving. She hugged me and gave soothing words of encouragement; above all else, she assured me Ethan would return and that I just had to be patient.

She spoke about Ethan that afternoon as if he were her own son. There was never a disapproving word, only compliments and work anecdotes from the years she’d known him.

She was also there to support me through school. She insisted, along with Ethan, that I take full advantage of the scholarship I was given. She also wanted me to develop my interests and not just major in something so I could get a job. She told me to pursue what I loved; something I was passionate about.

“
I think I know what I want to major in,” I told Margie, the excitement of my revelation radiating in my tone.

“
That’s great, sweetie. Tell me.”

“
This lady came in today with a little boy with autism, and it was so fascinating to watch her interact with him. I think I want to learn more about children and disabilities.” I was nervous about Margie’s answer. Maybe she thought I was a little too ambitious or crazy even in regards to my career path. “What do you think?”

“
I think we are lucky to have you, one of God’s angels here on earth. You warm an old woman’s heart, Emily. I can’t think of a better career choice.”