Chapter 10 Peaches
PEACHES
I followed Randy along the hallway, my heart thumping in my chest as he opened the door to the study. I wasn’t thinking anymore, I was just feeling. And the feeling was one of need. For touch. Sensation. Arousal.
Randy gestured to one of two dark, upright wooden chairs, padded with leather, and placed in front of a wide marbled fireplace.
The room was warm with amber lamps and had a smell of old books, long extinguished fires, and the sweet aroma of cigars.
The ghosts of time that had already been spent there.
I sat down, and Randy stood over me. A fuzz of nervous excitement buzzed in my stomach as he leaned over, my lips opening for him.
As our lips touched for the first time, a swirl of vibrant colors exploded under my skin, the feeling both soft and firm, an impossible pressure that delighted my senses.
Desire quickly threw its heavy blanket over our thoughts, and any shyness quickly gave way to something much more wild and delicious that burned between us.
As we tasted each other’s saliva, our breath became heavier and our pulses ran quicker.
We wanted the heat and touch of each other, and it dulled all the other thoughts and feelings.
I couldn’t have stopped it, even if I wanted to.
And I didn’t. I wanted to know his body, to offer up my own to him.
Our lips parted, and he looked confidently down at me.
“Now, it’s my turn to be in charge, okay?”
I nodded wordlessly back at him.
Randy went over to the opposite chair and sat down, gazing intently at me. His eyes traced the soft curves of my legs, his imagination working on him as he reached the point where the skin of my thighs disappeared under the hem of my dress.
“I’d like you to stand up,” He told me. Not a demand, a request. I answered him by standing up from my chair as calmly as I could. I made to make a step forward, but he raised his hand at me with a flat palm, telling me to stay.
“Unzip your dress,” he told me as he casually reclined into a chair, one leg crossing over the other. He wanted to savor me and the moment, and it only added to my excitement.
For a moment, I paused bashfully in the spotlight of his stare.
“What have you got in mind exactly, Randy?”
“I will make you come without laying a finger on you, Lucy. But I’ll need your help.” I watched him, relaxed, in control, and enjoying toying with me. “I can’t promise you won’t ask for more later, though.”
“Oh, really?” I said, as dismissively as I could. But by now, my intrigue had the better of me.
“First, the dress.” He said, his eyes flickering across my body.
Fuck. Was I going to undress in front of Randall Jackson? Yes. Yes, I fucking was. I wanted to play, I wanted him to play with me, and my blood fizzed with a rush of arousal under his gaze.
I fixed a look on him, letting my lips open in a way I hoped was seductive, then I lifted my fingers behind my back and slipped them around the zipper on my dress.
Randall leaned forward in delight and fascination, willing me on.
Oh, I’ll do this, Randall, but you’re gonna have to wait for it, you’re not the only one who can tease.
His expression started to become flustered as he waited for me to act, his patience wavering, wondering if I might not do it, if I might back out and end the game we were playing.
For my own pleasure, I let go of the zipper and feigned my interest, just to watch his deflated stare. To show him that, despite what he thought, I was the one in control here. I’d decide how far this would go and what I would do.
I screwed up my lips and playfully looked away to the side, as if I was thinking about whether of not to end this right there and then.
“Please,” He gave away his desperation with a slight quiver in his voice. “Don’t stop.”
I felt more relaxed now that it was him begging me, pushing away an unwanted thought that he had probably seen prettier girls than me take their dresses off in front of him. I liked my body and my shape, but giving it up for judgment was a whole other thing.
He noticed my cheeks redden.
“You’re beautiful, Lucy. I already decided the first time we met.”
Those words, along with the deep longing inside, were all I needed, and this time I didn’t hesitate to pull the zipper down. My dress loosening its grip around my body, the zipper crackling in the air around us while he watched me.
I let the open dress slip from me, wiggling it over my hips before letting it fall to my feet. Stood in front of him in just my bra, panties, and heels, I felt oddly powerful as his eyes took me in, relishing the soft skin and curves that had been revealed to him.
“And what now?” I asked coyly.
“Take a step closer.”
My feet stepped out of my heels and the abandoned dress that surrounded them, and I moved toward him, until I was close enough for him to reach out and touch me.
His blue eyes were wide and wild, changing into an animal form. Would he lose control and grab me? Would I do the same to him?
Randy raised his hand slowly, grasping the peach he had taken from the table, then reaching out to gently brush the fur of the fruit against my thighs, rolling it over the skin.
The peach pressed its plump skin on me pleasingly, softly tickling and exciting as it made its way along my skin, traveling up toward and over my panties, across my belly, and then up between my breasts.
Randy stood and moved behind me as the soft fuzz rolled over my collarbone and onto the curve of my neck, where he leaned over, his sweet scent making its way into my nose.
Then his lips met the fruit on my neck, piercing the skin with a bite.
A drizzle of juice made its way down my neck, over the collarbone it had just traveled from, and then rolled like sweet tears over the top of my breast.
“Come.” Randy breathed into my ear, and I sighed with the heady expectant energy rushing through me. I turned to follow him, only a few footsteps away, and his darkened eyes looked toward the hard, polished wood of the wide walnut desk.
Gesturing with his other, fruitless hand, he simply told me, “On here.”
I raised my knee and climbed up onto the solid dark wood, turning over on ass to face him. He descended on the bare skin of my chest with the dripping peach between his lips as I rolled back.
His mouth traveled lower, leaving traces of the peach’s sweet liquid across me as he slipped along my belly, teasing me with the thought of where I really wanted him to go.
The peach pushed under the elastic of my panty-line, and his lips slipped over the material, pulling them from me, first with his mouth, then with his fingers, taking great care to not once touch my skin directly.
The peach lay there oozing just above my fur, and I gasped at the exciting vision of watching his beautiful face and devilish expression rise back up from my feet and between my legs. His lips grasping the fruit again, his eyes firmly and seductively fixed on mine as he sank down between my legs.
Slowly and agonizingly, he rolled it over my plump, excited clit. The soft friction making me moan, teasing me across the sweet folds that invited him.
I watched with an exasperated gulp as he bit down again on the peach, the juices bursting and rushing over his lips, dripping down my inner thighs from his mouth. I couldn’t help but lean back in delight at the sensation.
“Fuck, Randy, that feels sooo good.”
With his mouth full of that dripping peach, he slipped the juices upward, along my belly, up my chest, and then, leaning over me, he lowered the fruit into my mouth. I let my teeth greedily sink into the skin, and the juice drizzled down both our lips as we shared its delights.
Our eyes parted as he rolled the dripping peach back down me in his mouth, over the soft curve of my breast, pushing aside the cotton of my bra, teasing the excited nipple inside, which responded by shooting sparks of pleasure through my body.
Then he descended lower and lower, until I again felt the thrilling pleasure of him back down on my sweetest spot.
“Holy fuck,” I gasped. My head rolling back in exquisite ecstasy.
The delightfully sweet aroma of the peach filled my nose as I closed my eyes, enhancing the sensation of what he was doing to me.
Juices ran down my trembling lips and thighs, and still he moved and rolled the flesh over my own, my gasps turning to moans to exhilarated cries.
I desperately wanted to feel him now, all of him. His strong hands on my wrists, his hard, muscular body pushed against my soft one. But the denial made me even more wild, even more sensitive to the sensations I was feeling.
Peeking down, I moaned again just at the vision of the thick, powerful forearms that were holding him up, the tight skin stretched beautifully over his shoulders, his head buried between my legs. The unrelenting and overwhelming feeling of my desire being teased and shamed by what he was doing.
“Randy?” Perhaps he murmured back, but all I knew was that he didn’t stop. “I’m going to come…”
The words made him agonisingly slow down.
“No. Please. Don’t. Stop.” I said in shuddering breaths.
Slowly, he began to increase the intensity, gathering more and more pace, more furiously each time, the glide and friction driving me to the edge.
Then I felt like the world stopped for just a second, a giant pause in the ripple of everything, before my legs began to tremble uncontrollably, and a rush of blissful, pulsating explosions made me shake and howl in the throbbing exhilaration of the orgasm that flooded through me.
My body shook violently, sounds I was only dimly aware of echoed off my lips, my muscles contracting and relaxing in exquisite madness, my heart pounding as if it might burst in my chest, until I finally lay there, a sticky, panting mess.
“Told ya.” He said, climbing up my body and rolling down next to me.
I couldn’t help but dreamily chuckle at his cockiness while I enjoyed the warm feeling still rushing through my blood, reaching every inch of my delighted body.
“You sure did.” I panted back.
I rolled over to him, pulling open his shirt buttons and putting my hand on his wide chest, feeling safe and reassured in our closeness. For a moment, we remained there together, in our own thoughts and feelings. Him, pleased with himself. Me, pleased with how I felt.
Then he took the peach that was still in his hand, lifted it to his lips, and with a soft crunch, began eating it while we lay there together. There were no words. None were needed. Just that soft closeness was enough for us in that moment.
Eventually, I slipped off him and woozily pattered along the cool, tiled floor to the bathroom, returning to him and slipping again into his outstretched arm. The feeling began to fade as the chemicals in my blood subsided, and my thoughts became more grounded.
“Randall.”
“Uh-huh.” He replied, still lost in his own thoughts.
“What happened to your mom?”
I heard his lips click against his teeth, deciding whether to answer and if he wanted to get into it.
I felt his chest rise slowly as he sighed.
Then he began talking. There was no swagger or style to his words, they were just normal and honest. It felt a little like he was telling me a bedroom story as I nestled against him.
“I was called up to a training camp with the Rays. I couldn’t have known then. But at that time, I was so determined that hockey would be the one thing that would change everything. Get me out of the situation I was in. Show them all they were wrong. I was going to blow that whole camp away.
“First day, I get called over by one of the coaches. They tell me my mom fell at work, said I should come home.”
“And?”
With my ear against his chest, I heard his heart thump a little harder
“I made the worst decision of my life. One I can’t ever make right.”
“You stayed at the camp?”
“Yep. I didn’t know it was that serious. Or that she was going to die. When she did, I never wanted to go home. She was the only good thing there. Even missed the funeral.”
“Randy!”
“Trust me, I know! I’m an absolute fucking asshole.”
He pushed my hand off his chest and sat up on the desk, his back to me, hiding his features.
“Hey Randy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”
He turned to me with wet eyes. “Well, now you do. And you won’t want any part of this. No one does. No one deserves that.”
“Maybe, no one gets a chance to choose, because Randy Jackson chases them off before they have a chance to.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“If it helps. I already think you’re an asshole. You can only go up in my estimation.”
My attempt at lightening the mood seemed to help a bit. He at least smirked for a moment before he looked at me again over his shoulder.
“I don’t know why I told you that. It’s my greatest shame.”
“I’m glad you did. I get it was awful and you’re ashamed.
But, also, you were a teenager, and we don’t know how to deal with a lot of things when we’re young.
Later, we start to find out that hiding from those big things often feels a lot worse than the pain of facing them.
You don’t get to choose what people think of you, Randy, but it helps if you’re actually genuine about your mistakes. ”