Chapter 7 Jake
Chapter seven
Jake
“Mat? What are you—”
My question was cut off by Mateo’s lips crashing into mine.
I froze. When I saw him on my doorstep this late at night, I hadn’t expected this.
I didn’t know what I’d expected. Something about the dojo or the event, maybe.
I hadn’t seen the kiss coming. I hadn’t prepared to feel his body press against mine as we stumbled backward against my door.
I wasn’t braced for the firm way he held my waist or the way his tongue slipped past the seam of my lips, waking me up and making me respond.
The moment I began to kiss him back, the heat ratcheted up tenfold.
I no longer felt the bite of the early December air nipping at my exposed skin.
My blood was racing fast enough to warm me from within.
The reality of kissing him was so much more intense than anything I’d imagined, on the rare chances I allowed myself to imagine it.
He had a talented tongue, and he kissed me like he knew exactly what he wanted.
There was a level of skill that I’d never be able to match.
When we finally pulled away, I was panting. His lips were swollen, and they made me want to kiss him again. I leaned and gave him a quick kiss before stepping away from him, out of the cage of his arms.
“Do I need to apologize?” he asked hesitantly.
It took me a moment to realize what he was asking.
I didn’t know why he would feel the need to apologize to me.
He’d showed up at my house and fulfilled the dreams that haunted my sleep.
“No,” I assured him. I rested one of my hands on his exposed forearm and caught his dark eyes.
He looked nervous, so unlike the way he’d been kissing me earlier.
I wanted to soothe his nerves, make sure he knew that I didn’t have a single regret.
Just the opposite.
Now that I’d had a taste of him, I wanted more. I drew a deep breath. “Do you want to come inside?”
“What about Emerson?”
If that kiss hadn’t already forced me to accept the fact that my attraction to him was something more than physical then that question would have done the trick.
The few people I’d attempted to date since my failed relationship with Becca had never viewed my daughter as a priority.
A few of them had gotten upset when I wouldn’t invite them over when she was home, because I didn’t want to confuse her by having people coming in and out of her life that weren’t going to stay.
“She’s with Becca this weekend.” Meaning I was home alone. There was nothing to interrupt us, nothing to keep us from crossing the line. It was probably the reason I shouldn’t have invited him in, but how could I stop myself? Not after that kiss. “So, are you coming in?”
He nodded slowly, and I turned around to let us in.
I was nervous, and I knew he could feel it.
He seemed nervous, too. He kept wiping his hands on his jeans.
I didn’t know if I should take him to the living room or my bedroom.
The idea of having him in my bedroom was tempting, but it seemed too forward.
What if it made things weird? I led him to the living room.
My laptop was open on the table by my couch, exactly how I’d left it minutes before when he knocked at the door.
It was strange how quickly my night had changed.
I’d spent the day cleaning my apartment.
I was just settling in for a too quiet night of getting ahead of my work for the week.
It was the standard weekend when Emerson was gone.
Until Mat kissed me on the porch, I had been content with my night’s plans.
Now it felt like it wasn’t enough. It was embarrassing for Mateo to see how little I had going on in my life.
I closed my laptop and sat down on the couch.
Mat sat down next to me, his leg pressed against mine.
It reminded me of the night we’d spent working together.
I’d wanted to kiss him then, but I hadn’t.
I’d been too aware of the risks and the fact that Emerson was asleep down the hall.
I hadn’t done anything other than imagine what it might feel like to give into the temptation offered by the younger man.
I knew now, and I couldn’t fight the temptation any longer.
It took less than a minute of sitting there with awkward silence and sexual tension filling the air between us for me to kiss him again.
He reacted immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer.
He kissed me with the same confidence he had on the porch, controlling the pressure of his tongue.
The press of his hands had me laying back.
He draped his body over mine like a weighted blanket.
The kiss grew hotter and hotter as our hands began to explore, sliding under each other’s shirts.
His hands were warm, and they traced shapes on the small of my back.
I could feel his muscles under my fingertips, and it only made the kiss hotter.
It fueled the fire now raging inside me and made the hungry beast he’d awakened demand more.
I pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the ground.
He lifted his body from mine, and I drank in the sight of him. I reached out and traced the thick black symbols on the right side of his torso.
“What do they mean?”
He slid his hand down my arm and took my hand, leading them over each Japanese symbol as he gave each definition. “Discipline. Confidence. Self-control. Excellence.” He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Not doing so great on one of those right now.”
“If it’s excellence, I have to disagree.”
“Self-control,” he laughed.
I traced the symbol he said meant self-control and watched as he shuddered, exhaling a shaky sigh. “It’s overrated.”
“Don’t tell my student’s that.”
“Never,” I promised.
He lifted the hem of my tee shirt. “Do you have any tattoos?”
I leaned up onto my elbows and let him remove the shirt, exposing my bare chest. “No, but you can do a full body search to make sure.”
“I might have to do that,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss my exposed nipple.
My back arched immediately, trying to grant him better access.
Holy shit, he had a talented tongue. It flicked over my nipple while his hand began to pinch and fondle the other.
I let out a quiet moan, and then he did it again.
“You like that?” he asked after he drew another slightly louder sound from my lips.
“Yes,” I groaned. I really did like that.
I liked it more when he began to kiss down my bare chest, slowly moving south to the bulge growing in my sweatpants.
My heart pounded in my chest because I knew what was going to happen next.
I knew this was a bad idea. It was wrong, and maybe it was something I would regret.
But damned if I could stop now.
He tugged down my sweats, leaving me exposed. He looked at me hungrily, like he wanted to consume me. The feeling was mutual, and it grew with the first touch of his tongue to my cock. He licked a stripe up my shaft, and I exhaled another shaky breath. “Holy damn.”
The words urged him forward. He began to tease me with his tongue and hands, working in tandem as he swallowed me down.
If I thought his tongue was talented on my nipples, it was nothing like what he was doing with my dick now.
It was one of the best blowjobs I’d ever had, and the entire time, he kept his eyes on me.
I didn’t feel exposed the way I did when anyone else looked at me with my dick in their mouth.
It felt personal. Intimate.
It felt like he saw me as he took me apart with his tongue, the parts of me that I kept away from everyone else. He saw them and he accepted them, swallowed them down with the same ease as he swallowed down my cock now.
He took me down deeper, and I fought the urge to thrust up.
The fight lasted until he moaned around my dick, the hum radiating through my body.
I thrust up, and he let out a choking sound.
When I stilled, he grabbed my ass and urged me to press up, to fuck into his face.
I tried to keep my thrusts short and shallow, but he kept pushing me further.
His eyes were watering, and he gagged again but somehow managed to take me deeper.
I was panting and moaning, falling apart as he worked me over.
“Going to—” I panted out.
He somehow went harder. I saw white as I bust down his throat. He sucked me through it, swallowing down as much as he could. When he pulled away, drool and cum leaked from his swollen lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His pupils were blown wide with lust.
“You taste amazing,” he groaned.
“I wasn’t planning on—”
He cut me off with a kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue, salty and bitter. I could feel his thick cock pressing against my leg through his jeans. I didn’t want this to be over. Besides, I hadn’t gotten him off yet. I pushed at his shoulder, and he sat up. “Everything okay?”
“Your turn.”
He grinned and leaned back, and I took my time taking him apart and finally getting that taste I was so desperate for.
Mat didn’t leave until an hour before Emerson was due home from Becca’s the next day.
We spent most of the night on the couch, watching bad movies and making out like teenagers.
He got me off again in the shower before bed, and I returned the favor before we fell asleep.
We exchanged blowjobs in the morning. There wasn’t any pressure to move further.
For a moment, I’d wondered if it was me.
Then he looked at me in a certain way, and I knew that wasn’t the case.
When he left, the house seemed emptier. I began cleaning up from our time together, washing the coffee cups and dishes from that morning and erasing any traces that I had a visitor. Any traces except the belt he’d left in my bedroom when he’d left that morning.
I texted him a picture of it.
Mat
Guess I’ll just have to come back and get it another time
Jake
Was that your master plan?
He sent me back a purple devil emoji, neither confirming nor denying my accusation. I found that I didn’t care if this had been some master plan.
I wanted to see him again, to fall asleep and wake up with him again.
Too bad it would be at least two weeks before we could have any alone time together again.
Who knew if he’d still be interested in two weeks?
In my experience, people lost interest in the single dad when they realized that they’d never come first in my life.
That role was always going to be reserved for Emerson.
Mat seemed to understand it so far, but that would change. It always did.
Mat texted me later that night that he was thinking of me.
He also sent a picture of him lying in bed with his shirt off.
I wanted to trace his tattoos with my tongue.
I responded with a picture of me in my own bed, stating that I wished he were there.
The texts continued the whole next day, little updates about his day and questions about mine.
I hadn’t looked at my phone this much in years.
When I got to the dojo, I noticed that he looked at me differently. It was like he was undressing me with his eyes. My mind flooded with memories of Saturday night, and all I wanted was a repeat. I began a mental countdown.
When we met at the end of class while Emerson worked on her routine in the other room, he reached over the desk and took my hand. “I missed you yesterday,” he whispered.
“I missed you, too.”
“Emerson goes to her mom’s every other weekend, right?”
“Yeah. So, her next weekend—”
“Is the weekend of the event,” I finished for him.
“Not what I was going to ask,” he teased. “I was going to ask if maybe you’d want to do something on Saturday? I’d ask you out for Friday, but we’ll be here.”
A date. He was asking me on a date. Two weeks in advance. I felt like a teenager again.
And then reality struck me. It was my last child free weekend before Christmas. I already had plans for that day. My stomach sunk through the floorboards. “I have to go Christmas shopping.”
“We can go together,” he suggested. “And then afterward, I can take you out for a nice dinner.”
“You’d be willing to go Christmas shopping?” I questioned, one eyebrow arched. No one actually liked shopping for presents that close to the actual holiday. He must have really wanted to spend time with me.
There was that stupid warmth again.
“I like shopping,” he admitted, “and I like you. I also know you have a daughter, and our dates are going to have to accommodate that sometimes.”
“And you don’t mind?”
“Not if it means I get to go out with you. I want to see what this is.”
I did, too. I looked through the window to see Emerson, and I felt worry wash over me again. Maybe this would ruin everything for her, but I wanted to see how it went. If it seemed like it was going to be a sinking ship, I’d bail before she was affected.
I reached into my bag and grabbed my computer, opening it between us. “Before we can plan our date, let’s get back to work on the event. We have less than two weeks, and we have a lot to do.”
He laughed, but he accepted the change of topic easily. We got to work.
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First, thanks everyone for your responses to the original post. It’s great to know that feeling like you’re ruining your kid’s life is just a part of parenting.
Now onto the updates. We’re planning a massive event for the dojo, which is leading to a lot of one-on-one time with the head sensei.
And therein lies the point of the update.
I’ve always thought her sensei was a very attractive young man, but until recently, I’ve been content to admire from afar.
He’s almost a decade younger than me, and my daughter could end up hurt if things fail between us.
See above: that worry that I’m going to ruin her life in some way.
As I’ve spent more time getting to know him, the attraction has bloomed into something more.
I feel like calling it a crush sounds too young, but sadly, it’s the most accurate word for it.
I was content to swallow down the feelings until he showed up at my door the other night and kissed me senseless. We ended up hooking up.
He’s asked me out on a date for the next time she’s at her mom’s. Any words of wisdom or advice on how to balance out wanting to put my daughter first and not ruin her life with exploring this new dynamic? Because all I can see is the potential fallout.