Tempted (32 page)

When David’s big night comes I wish him well, silently pray for him to not go down in flames, and help
get him get his kit in the car –
 
m
y
car
,
that is.

Just as I am settling in for a yummy night of Alexness, David comes bursting back in.
 
“I’m a nervous wreck and afraid I’m gonna crash your car.
 
Would you mind
...
?”

“How ‘bout I take you and cheer you from the sidelines?”

“Whew.
 
Thanks.
 
You’re an angel.”

The ride there is tense in a ‘comedy of errors’ way.
 
We hit every red light.
 
There is construction with detours that don’t show up on any internet map or site.
  Plus, the GPS sends us careening down one-way streets – the wrong way, of course – and down three cul-de-sacs.
 
Still, w
e arrive with ten minutes to spare
,
and I park the car while David races in to change.
 
In my rear-view mirror
,
I see him drop his hockey stick and pads at least twice before I pull into a parking space.
 

As I turn off the ignition, an unpl
easant memory comes to mind –
the night with
Bret.
 
My reactions to sexual advances like those from Bret and Nimo have always caused me to fret that I might be frigid.
 
With all
of
my rules, routines, and animals, I feared I really was destined for stereotypical catladydom.
 
After my heartbreak with David, it seemed the fiery desire part of me had either shut down or been snuffed altogether.
 
That is, till my kundalini
uncoiled
.
 
And that was when Alex came into my life.
 
It wasn’t a long, laborious process.
 
It was like the
press of a button
, one that only he knew how to locate.
 
And he did so without even trying.

Even now, when I am with David, all of my lust and longing is directed toward Alex.
 
And that suits me perfectly.
 
While David and I may have a lot in common as far as our tastes, personalities and dispositions go, Alex and I are more similar in other ways that put me at ease, specifically when it comes to our views of sexual intimacy.
 

David, for instance, is what I’m sure one would call a world-class lover.
 
Not that I would know from first-hand experience, or any other part of the body
,
for that matter.
 
David’s approach to life
centers on
appreciating and sharing beauty, especially in others,
especially
in women.
 
He sincerely loves getting to know people and learning what makes them tick.
 
The
intimate connection made between two people baring themselves
sexually
is the ultimate expression of this
,
for him.
 
So, it’s no surprise that he has shared himself with a whole lot of women in this way.
 
David’s actions come from a place of love
–
not romantic love for one w
oman, but love in general,
and
that loving spirit makes him all the more attractive to women, as it initially did with me.

I once asked him for a ballpark estimate of how many women he’d been with, just out of curiosity.
 
He demurred and said he honestly didn’t know.
 
I prodded, asking if it was more than fifty.
 
“Oh, heck yeh.”
 
More than a hundred?
 
“Ha! Yes.”
 
More than two hundred?
 
He sighed,
“Yes, but really I have no idea.
 
I stopped counting years ago.”

When I used to dream of being with David intimately, I worried about feeling inadequate and grossly inexperienced.
 
Silly, I know.
 
But we all have our insecurities.
 
Alternatively, Alex is just as lusty, but far more selective about who he takes into his bed.
 
He’s literally only been with a handful of women.
 
 
His explanation of his selectivity not only makes clear sense to me, but helps me better understand my own views of sexuality and what’s right for me.
 
For Alex, sexual
union
is something so sacred that
,
despite intense des
ire, he chooses
only
to share
himself
with women whom he views as potent
ial life partners.
 
I realize I a
m the same way.

At one point during our lurid conversations, I made a confession that I feared could send him
running for the Catskill hills.
 
As my kundalini continued to dance and develop, I realized that while I loved all of the deliciously naughty scenarios we shared, I was at a point in my life and spiritual understanding (for lack of a better description) that I would only want to engage in such an intense level of intimacy with someone
...
who
...
was my
...
husband.
 
And I told him as much.

I
was really coming to cherish the sacred aspects of physical intimacy.
 
I no longer saw h
ot sex talk as being ‘naughty’ – j
ust the opposite.
 
I started viewing it as absolutely natural, at least with the right person
.
 
And for me that person would be my life partner.
  The rub was that I was not itching to get married.
 
Still, I co
uldn’t bear the thought of end
ing
my
steamy conversations
with Alex.
 
I was hooked!  Qu’elle conundrum.

When I finished my long diatribe, lamely, there was an unbearably long pause.
 
Then Alex spoke.

“That is the single fucking hottest thing I have ever heard in my entire life!”

Another pause – this time, on my end.

“Really?” I ask
ed in shocked disbelief
and relief.

“Yes, really!
 
I have no idea why you thi
nk that might be a deal-breaker!
We both fee
l the same way about lovemaking.
 
I
t's a sacred act, an act of love.
 
So, when you say that you
wish to reserve sex for
the bonds of matrimony, I think that is incredibly beautiful, spiritual, and extremely fucking hot.
 
So, no, Sugar, it isn't a deal-breaker.
 
It makes me love and cherish you all the more.”

Wow.
 
Simply, wow!
 
Heady stuff to be thinking about while walking into the ice rink to watch whizzing discs of hard rubber get smacked at the handsome face of the former love of my life.
 
I enter the arena and grab a seat quickly, trying to go unnoticed.
 
As I sit, chewing my nails and nervously tapping my feet in anticipation of David’s performance, my phone buzzes.
 
It’s a text from Alex.

ALEX:
 
Check your FB msgs
...
at your peril ;)

I do so and find a lengthy and
, I am sure, lusciously lusty
message from him.
 

7:12pm

Alexander Armstrong

You mentioned being insatiable, wanting more messages, more of me, more of us.

I have much work ahead of me this evening, but want to take a moment to indulge you as you’ve requested.

Dig, if you will, this picture, Cariña.

I come in from doing yard work. Hot and sweaty and grimy.

I don't see you, but I hear the water running in the shower, and immediately that thought makes me grow.

I slip quietly into the bathroom, where I can see you through the
foggy glass of the
shower
door
.

You're basking in the water, blessing each
drop – those lucky drop that get
to wet your body.

Your head is tilted back
toward
the shower head.

Water streams down
your fac
e, your shoulders, your breasts, m
aking trailing streams of
bubbling lather
down your body as you rinse.

And now I'm engorged, and ravenous for you.

I silently strip.

Just then
,
I hear the whoosh of skates as the hockey hopefuls take to the ice.
 
I gasp when I see David.
 
Aside from the giddy grin, he looks like he actually belongs!
 
I’m impressed.
 
Those trying out sit on the bench and
receive a talk-to from
one of the team’s coaches.
 
I return to my message
...
and the shower.

I startle you when I
pull
the shower
door open
.

I press right up against you, taking your breast hard in one hand.

Your ass, hard in the other.

I put m
y mouth on yours, devouring your sweet honey lips and tongue.

I lift your leg around my waist and press your back against the wall.

And enter you, deep, and hard.

My hand on the lower part of your ass, grinding your body into mine.

Kneading your breasts with the other, pinching your nipples just hard enough to make you squeal, and feeling your
hardened
nipples
swell.

I thrust into you recklessly. Fast and hard.

Again. And again. And again.

Help
!

I'm so
s
wollen in you, water raining on us.

Banging you again
and again against the wall
each time I impale you.

Frenzied, feeling you begin to tighten and twitch around me, I stare into your eyes, see you losing all control and reason.

I want you to see the animalistic lust in my eyes as I explode in you.

And I'm close. Growing impossibly. Thrusting again and again, hard and fast.

Your whimpers and moans and nails clawing my back make me
wild
.

And I come inside you, with you, filling you with my hot seed.

Thrusting until
you
whimper and I'm completely drained.

I slide out and kiss you deeply.

And tell you to wash me now.

Soap my body.

Run your soft soapy hands around my still hard cock. My
throbbing
balls
. My chest. Shoulders. Back.

You
turn and
bend to reach for more
body wash
. And I'm not through with you yet.
Your beautiful back and ass have
me wild.

I want to see me enter
you.

I take your hair and wrap it around my hand, holding you bent over, water pouring over us both.

I slide my free hand between
your legs, slip a finger inside, s
pr
ead you
.

And impale you again.

I hear you gasp. And that just makes me more reckless as I crash us together. My free hand goes to your hip, so I can pull you into me by more than just your hair.