Five
Ward
I don’t ask her to clarify. I’m thirty-one. She’s twenty-six. But I’m inside her house late at night and she’s giving me eyes like she gave to all that delectable sushi. I know she can’t be hungry… for food after all that. If she says she’s older than me, she’s older than me, whatever the heck she means.
“You want some tea?”
So she is making tea. I don’t reckon she means the iced, sweet variety, which would be the only kind I’ve ever cared to try. But I say, “Sure. However you take it.”
The house fills with a spicy, earthy aroma as I poke around again. She doesn’t tell me to stop snooping, and my eyes are pulled in all directions by the whimsical assortment she’s got laid out. There is so much to wonder about Yvette, and looking around her house almost feels like a peek inside her mind, like I’m finding clues.
There’s a small room adjacent to the kitchen that’s got such a vibe, it could be a prayer room, or maybe a reading room. Hell, it could be a sex room. It’s hard to tell with only the light from the kitchen giving me a glimpse inside, so I fumble around for a light switch until I find it. The kettle whistles a high frequency—at the same time, so does Yvette.
“Not the big light! Ew!”
“What then?”
“Use the lamps!”
I click on some lamps that are scattered on various surfaces throughout, then turn off the “big light.” She’s not wrong—it’s even cozier like this. The furniture in here is all oddly shaped. Again, whether they’re used for exercise or reading or sex…maybe all of the above, it’s anyone’s guess. Does Yvette have a lot of sex? She doesn’t strike me as super flirtatious or sexually aggressive, but how well do I really know her? After our dinner conversation tonight, I certainly know a lot more about her than I did before. I certainly know that I want to know more.
There are so many ways to start a fire in this room. You’ve got some wine, lots of candles, a cache of paperback—mostly fantasy with some thrillers peppered in, it looks like—and a space heater that’s been running all day, just to name a few. In anyone else’s home I’d see a room . In Yvette’s, I’m scanning eagle-eyed for hazards.
Yvette comes in holding one steaming mug, and I notice it, not for the first time—this presence whenever she steps into a room. Like there’s a light around her that I’d swear I can actually see. That I want to draw near to.
I typically only see Yvette under chaotic conditions. I’ve always found her appealing even then. But tonight, she looks knockout gorgeous. All fixed up…for me. Of course she doesn’t need the ‘big light’; she lights up every room she ever walks into. It takes everything in me not to reach for her immediately for more kisses. That was a tease .
“Just one?” I ask, eyeing the mug.
“You said however I like it.” She smiles, like she’s proud. “So why make two?” She takes a slow sip of the tea, then extends it to me. “Here.”
I bring the mug to my lips and go to sip it like she just did, and it instantly scalds me. “Jesus.”
“Careful, it’s a bit hot.”
“You just drank it though,” I point out. “Do you have any tastebuds?”
“Of course, yes, I’m just used to drinking tea that way.”
My forehead scrunches. “You blew on the sake before you drank it.”
“I like sake better warm. I like tea hot.”
It reminds me for a second of what Dante had said. I don’t want to get fucked in the mouth by the sun. I can’t help the small laugh that escapes.
“Something wrong?” Yvette asks.
“No.” I point to the oils. “You ever use these for massages?”
“I haven’t, but that’s not a terrible idea. I may have a massage table somewhere…”
“Is there anything you don’t have? Your whole house is like a Mary Poppins’ bag. But at the same time it’s tidy. How is that even possible?”
“Magic.” She winks.
“Yeah, well maybe you could share some of that magic with my neighbor, Hank.”
“Is Hank unhappy with his space?” Yvette asks.
“I don’t know, probably not, he never leaves it.”
“Then let him be. His home is probably exactly the way he wants it to be.”
I bet she’s right. She’s right a lot of the fuckin’ time, I’m quickly learning. “You’re a good person, Spark. A genuine person.”
“Thank you, I know. Now”—she pulls out a folding massage table from a hall closet and sets it up in this…miscellaneous room—“you ready for your massage?”
“My massage?” I shake my head. “I’m massaging you , hon.”
“What, really? With those bear paws?” She looks at my hands with dismay.
“I’m not some brute. I can be gentle.”
“Um…okay. Not too gentle, though,” she says, a bit teasingly. Oh fuck. Before the night is over, I swear, this woman will be the death of me.
She drags over a small table filled with oils and other accoutrement, then lays a blanket over the table, then grabs another, softer one. And then she takes all of her clothes off.
Every…stitch.
I gulp a thick swallow, as I just stare at her gorgeous, plentiful body. I can’t even blink, I don’t want to miss a split-second of this view. “Am I supposed to look away?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Yvette says, smiling unshyly. “I am going to put this over me though.”
“Shame.”
She lays down on the table, face down in the little hole, ass up, and shimmies the blanket up halfway, just barely covering half of her butt.
Ignoring my cock which has reached an all-time high level of demand for her, I look down at the array of oils. “Which one should I use?”
“You choose.”
“This one smells really good.” I hold it to her nose.
“It’s not an essential oil, it’s a lubricant. It’ll work for massages.”
“Okay…” I pour a small amount in my palm and rub my hands together, blowing on them for extra warmth before I touch them to her mid-back. My hands go exploring, up and down her back at first, over her shoulders, down her arms. All the innocent areas, but I could spend some serious time trying to memorize them all. I lose sight of whether I’m doing this more for her pleasure, or my own.
Both.
I spend some time on the back of her neck, eliciting sweet sighs and satisfied purrs that send more waves of tension and heat right to my sex.
“Mmmm… I guess I needed that,” she moans as I finish with her neck and nape and start to drift down, grazing the sides of her spine, then lower, so that I have to brush the blanket down to the back of her thighs. My hands work back up to her round, firm ass, fighting against everything in me to massage and not squeeze. She lifts up into my palms, and I can’t help but groan.
“Don’t be scared of me, Ward. You can touch me there. It feels really good…”
“You’re definitely not scary, Spark. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”
“You meet many nice people?”
“You don’t think I do?”
“Hmm…” she hums, noncommittally. Maybe it’s the fragrances fuzzing up her brain, or she’s a bit tipsy from the sake. Maybe we’re already here though, and I want her body like my next breath of air.
“Turn over,” I grunt the demand.
She does, acting in near instant obedience, and with a smile on her face. I shouldn’t have done it—it was one thing to look at her standing before me in the nude, it’s quite another to see her lying down, defenseless, acquiesced. Her tits invitingly naked and close. Wanting me to touch her, to make her feel good. I expect her to draw the blanket up at least to her breasts but she barely brings it to the top of her bikini line.
I oil and warm my hands and lay them onto her body. This time, I touch where I want. Sorry not sorry, it’s what my dick is going to allow at the moment.
“There is one thing you don’t have in your whole entire house.”
“A TV.”
“Yeah. That’s weird.”
“You’re weird ,” Yvette sasses back. “Weird Ward.” She bursts into giggles, making it really difficult to massage her right. Not that I’m all too concerned with my thumbs and fingers fondling her prominent tips.
“Keep running your mouth, Spark, and I’m going to fill it.”
“Mmhm. That’s what I thought”—she cracks one eye open to peek up at me—“you’re buttering me up to fuck me.”
“We don’t have to fuck. We can just do this.” I peel the blanket all the way down below her bare snatch glistening in the lamplight.
I find a spot she likes near her collarbone, and she mewls and purrs, her hips rising up just so to rub her pussy into the soft blanket.
“The least you could do is take off all your clothes. It’s only fair.”
“You want me to massage you in the nude?”
“Mhm…please.”
I’m already hard as a steel pipe. I drop my hand down to my erection, showcasing the number she’s doing on me. Both of her eyes open up wide. My pants are the only thing shielding me from diving deep into every one of her exposed holes.
“I’m afraid that’s going to be a very quick massage.”
“Or just a better one,” she murmurs in a syrup-sweet voice. Is she batting her lashes? Oh, Yvette… fuck—me . She is actually going to burn me to ash. She’s got a soft little slit for a pussy and I’m not confident she’ll be able to take my nine inches even if we try, to be honest, but just to be near her with it—that would be something. I’m standing here debating which of her spellbinding curves I’m going to spill my cum all over, when she yanks hard on my pants.
“C’m on . Please.”
I give her a wicked smirk. “Just remember, you fuckin’ asked.”
“More like had to beg.”
I take a step back and take off my clothes, layer by layer, just like she asked. Begged . I double-check that the hematite is tucked safe and sound in the pocket of my pants. Glory hallelujah. I’m not normally a sentimental person, but I will never, ever lose that crystal.
“Oh, wow,” she breathes.
“What are you wowing, exactly.” I can’t even try to school my huge grin as I return to my spot by the table fully aroused. My sex is inches from her face, long and proud, a bit of precum on the tip.
“You have incredible muscle structure,” Yvette muses. She leans up on one elbow and reaches her hand out to stroke up the top of my thigh, rounding my hip, grazing her way up my stomach. Her long, manicured nails dragging across my bare skin, right there , her dark hair draped over one milky breast—it’s all insanely tantalizing. My cock punches skyward. I watch her movements with a delirious, drugged expression. I reach down toward my sex in attempt to release even a modicum of pressure. I should know better—it only makes it worse. My hand descends, grabbing a loose hold, then sliding up and down from balls to slit as this gorgeous, intoxicating woman explores my erogenous zones with her little soft, curious hands. So fucking eager. So fucking hot.
“Is this okay that I do this?” I ask hoarsely, freely jacking off in slow-motion right by her cheek as she caresses me all around my groin area, but without actually putting her hand on my penis. I can’t exactly move it out of her way. It generally hogs up the real estate here.
“Of course. You should feel good, isn’t that what this is all about?”
“Yeah…”
Her eyes zero in on my dick-pumping action, then she blinks up at me. “Would some oil help?”
“Yes, please,” I answer, my syllables coming out in deep, chesty grunts.
She doesn’t pour the lubricant on it; instead, she slicks her hands up with the oil, then runs her fingers down the head first, then palming the hard shaft. My balls immediately feel wound up tight with sensation, with just enough light, teasing pleasure to make me depraved. I want to fuck her now, hard.
I watch, enthralled, as her hand spirals up and down, her grip slowly tightening more and more with each pass. A fever heat spreads from my lower back, to my ass, to my balls. It’s about to flood my rod if she doesn’t slow down or stop soon.
“Fuck, baby. That feels good.”
“Did you know this is flavored lube?” she says in that airy, singsong voice of hers.
“I didn’t. Is it any good?”
“Dunno, haven’t tried it…”
She looks up at me with those bright, shining blue eyes and her mouth slightly open. A better man than me might be able to resist those perfect, lush lips. But I can’t. I grab the back of her head and drive my cock right in between them, and she swallows me in deep, with determination, clamping her mouth. “Fuck. Oh, shit . Damn, baby!”
My dick is crammed in her mouth when she looks up at me again, eyes sparkling. She does a long, soft hum that sends warm pulses all the way up to my stomach. I’m determined to come this way, it’d be satisfying as hell to unload all of my spend right down into her open throat, with her eyes on mine and her little hums of delight drilling my cock with added sensation.
But not this time. I need her pussy . I need to be deep in her body when I finally burst.
I grab a fistful of hair at the back of her head and pull her off of me, exhaling a miserable sound when we disconnect. “I need you,” I grouse.
“I’m here, baby.”
“Mmmm.” I lift her up off the table and carry her over to one of her crazy-looking lounger chairs she’s got in here. She swipes her lips with her tongue.
“It does taste good.”
I climb over her, situating. My lips drop onto hers, tasting the oil-lube. “You’re right. Kind of sweet.”
“Some of that is your precum.” She winks.
“I know.” I gaze down in eager anticipation. “How many guys have you fucked on this?”
“Uh, I’ve never fucked on this, Ward.”
“Why not, it’s fuckin’ cool.”
“I don’t normally have sex unless it means something.”
“You never have sex unless it means something.” I look at her crossly. “Say it.”
“I never have sex unless it means something.”
“This means something to me, Ward. Say it,” I command.
“This means something to me, Ward,” she echoes my words so earnestly, her eyes never ever straying from mine. She’s a really great actress, contributing to her massive social media success maybe, or she’s what I always believed her to be—a genuine person with a very different sort of mind and a heart of solid-ass gold.
“It means something to me , Spark. It does ,” I whisper in her ear. I’m falling in love with you.
I don’t say that part because it’s delusional, unhinged lunacy. I’ve never fallen in love, but I know it doesn’t happen at all like this. Whatever this is, it’s just something else that’s really enjoying fucking with me.
But every time I do think it, my dick goes berserk for her. I love you, Yvette. Want to fuck her so bad. I love you, I love you. Get in that pussy. God I love you. Fuckin’ need that pretty little pussy right goddamn now.
Yvette’s body curls against the long chair, shaped almost like an S and just narrow enough for me to spread my legs over it and still plant my feet on the ground. Her legs wrap around my hips, her stare is adhered to mine. My sex finds hers like we’ve done this together a million times before. She’s sodden, her juices soaking the seat and my tip barely slides in. There’s instant resistance, her tight walls fastening around me, but her hips drop wide to let me in deeper. Deeper. I’m afraid I’m going to hurt her but her face and her sounds and her nails dragging me in closer by the skin at my sides are all the invitation I need to keep going.
“Yes. Ward. Oh my god…” she’s panting and bucking against me to try to meet my thrusts, but I’m not halfway in. “Just fill me.”
With a loud groan I push into her all the way, and she lets out a sharp breath. Fuuuuck. Her heated walls cling to my shaft. I pull out slow, then drive back in, fully wetting my cock.
“More. Ward, more ,” she begs. My hands grasp the flesh of her hips, then reach for her full luscious tits, then her throat, my other hand thumbing at her plump lower lip as her mouth hinges wide, breathy moans singing out of her. I reach for her thighs, her ass. I can’t settle on only one part of her body to enjoy, I want to devour every inch with my hands, my mouth, my sex, at once.
So this is what it means to be starved and depraved.
I’m addicted to her already. I already know, I will never have my fill. I will never have enough. I will always want her again and again and again.
My cock has found its home in her warm, wet center. I pump into her deeper, harder, yanking her body into my thrusts. Yvette’s pliant against me, letting me kiss her, and paw at her, and fuck her to my heart’s content.
Before she gets too close, I slow, touching her more gently, dropping sweet, lingering kisses onto her lips, her face, her neck, and nice, big nipples begging to be lapped up and sucked. I lick my way, meanderingly, back up her chest and the side of her neck to ask in a whisper, “Can we fuck in your bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
My grin hovers just by her ear, lips grazing her lobe after every few words. “I’m going to mark this whole house with my scent, with my cum, with our sex. So everyone who comes here will know you’re mine.”
She doesn’t say no, don’t do that, I can’t. She doesn’t ask if she’s really mine, if I meant that or not. I can see it in her eyes and her face when I look—there’s no question she knows.
She’s mine. MINE .
We hobble out of the chair and dash toward her room and climb into the bed, getting right into position. I fuck her into the mattress of her big, pretty bed. Yvette’s body opens to me in every way, letting me pummel into her as hard and as deep and as fast as I need. I learn that it takes her right into a body-rending climax. I learn that Yvette is ethereal when she comes. Her eyes roll back and a sound like an angel arriving straight down from Heaven comes out of her, singing. Her hips roll in a steady wave, smearing that wet cunt up and down and up and down my hard column until her thighs are trembling and her honey is pouring from between her lips, drenching my sex. The physical pleasure is one thing. Paired with the sight of my girl— my girl—coming all over my cock sends me over the fucking edge. I tunnel all the way to the hilt when I feel that first pulse of euphoria hit me, firing my spend as deep in her pussy as she can accommodate. My whole body tightens as my mind goes blank. All I can think of is emptying completely, giving all of it, all of me, all the way into my girl.
Shit, I haven’t come like that in a long-ass time. I came so damn hard. I keep my dick warm inside of her for a couple of minutes, like a nice little pussy cocoon I never want to leave. When I do slide out, I collapse to the bed.
“That rendered me weak as shit,” I grumble, but in a satisfied way. Does she know it’s all because of her? Does she know the effect she fully has on me?
“That was amazing, Ward. Your dick…oh my god. Your body. Wow.”
I have so much I want to say to her but my breath is still ragged and I’m bone-weary. So I just turn my head toward her and smile.
Fuck… yeah . My cum is all up in Yvette, and for the time being—maybe only minutes—I’m no longer horny.
I’m far from irritated.
I’m just here.
Peace .
~ * ~
As we’re lying together afterward, I peer around her room. Tonight is the first time I’ve seen her bedroom. I spy the little potted plant I got her, sitting on her windowsill.
I brush the dark hair off her pretty, pixie face, and those blues eyes blink open. A warm, radiant peace settles over me right then, like it’s been doing all night.
I breathe out the deepest of sighs. “Did you put a spell on me, Spark?”
She laughs softly. “Everyone knows you can’t make someone fall in love.”
“Did I say I was in love?” I seriously can’t be sure if I did or I didn’t. I might have thought it a hundred or a thousand times tonight. But I wouldn’t have said it. I’m not goddamn insane .
She just smiles at me as she answers, in that whispered, angel voice, “Not yet.”
And there it goes again. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Fuck.