Nothing More Beautiful (21 page)

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Authors: Lorelai LaBelle

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BOOK: Nothing More Beautiful
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Eventually the world returned. My breaths
were sharp and uneven for what seemed like minutes before I
reclaimed normalcy. I was gulping down air, shuddering, aftershocks
rolling in and tensing all of my muscles.

Coming down from the orgasm, I noticed
Vince’s loud moaning for the first time, and the fact that he was
shaking the bed as much as I had been, his hips thrusting across
the sheets, his penis poking through the window in his boxers. He
was still licking my clit when suddenly he roared in climax. His
face grew red and veiny, and his eyelids flickered, mostly closed.
He came all over the sheets, some of it reaching my legs and pussy,
spurt after spurt of white erupting from his penis.

As I watched him come, I smiled inside,
supremely aroused. I had never felt this accomplished as a lover:
turning on a man so much that he came without one of my body parts
having ever made contact with his penis. He let go of my legs and
stood, semen still squirting out in smaller quantities, his shaft
pulsing every few seconds.

The dark red of his face faded to a light
pink, his cheeks glowing, and I wondered what mine looked like. He
opened his eyes and stared at me, exhaling a long, drawn out
breath. “Wow.” He stood there, dazed, his body wobbling. He grabbed
his penis and squeezed the last drops from it, letting it fall on
the sheets.

“That
was . . . intense,” I said, my body trembling.
I ran my fingers through my hair before stretching out my arms and
legs to their fullest, my fingers and toes curling. “I can’t
believe I never let anyone touch me there before—and your
tongue!”

He smiled, climbing onto the bed from the
side, collapsing. His hard-on shrank and the throbs stopped. “I
never knew an orgasm could be so intense,” he responded, his voice
deep and smooth, relaxed. “I’ve never come from stimulation like
that before.”

“Was it better than sex?”

“It was different. Somehow more potent, I
think.” He turned and studied me. “And you—your climax nearly broke
the bed. For a woman who’s never had one before, I was surprised it
was so big.”

I leaned over him and kissed him. “How did
you know to do that, at the end with your fingers?”

“It was in that book.” He pointed to the sex
guide on the floor. “I read the chapters on female anatomy and
orgasms. I figured since you never climaxed from sex, maybe you
would come from clitoral stimulation.”

“Well, you figured right.” I lay back down
beside him, my eyes heavy. My body tingled, especially my neck,
where the sensation lingered, slowly growing fainter. “I feel like
such an idiot, being so uptight before, not knowing what I was
missing . . . but at the same time, I’m glad
that it was with you.”

“That you let me in.”

“That you somehow broke down those walls
that had been repelling my desires for so long.”

He rolled over and held me, stroking my
hair, gliding a finger up and down my arms, torso, and hips. The
tingling relaxed me even more, until my stomach growled, crushing
the moment.

Vince’s stomach responded in kind, with a
deep, fierce rumble.

“Danielle ordered pizza,” I said. “I didn’t
hear a knock at the door, but that’s probably because we were
making the list. You want me to check?”

“Sure, I love pizza.”

“Well, who doesn’t?” I rolled off the bed,
grabbed a new pair of panties from the dresser, found some yoga
pants, and threw on a t-shirt.

“You’d be surprised,” he laughed. “There are
pizza haters out there.”

I shot him a yeah-right grin and opened the
door a crack, scanning the hall. “Be right back.” He nodded as I
left. I tiptoed into the living room, where I noticed a flash of
light, the TV changing to a new picture. Danielle and Ashley were
on the couch, cuddling. Ashley had her eyes closed, asleep.
Danielle—the big spoon—glanced over at me with a huge smile and
made a thumbs-up gesture.

I waved it away.

“The pizza is in the fridge,” she said.

“Thanks,” I replied, walking into the
kitchen and finding the leftovers.

Danielle was still wearing a huge grin as I
passed her on my way back to Vince. Turning for the hall, I heard
her whisper, “Welcome to the club.”

I flushed, but also couldn’t help but
smile.

At long last, I was
in
.

 

I WOKE UP WITH
Vince’s arm
under my pillow and his boner pressed against my back. Vince’s
other arm was holding my hip. I scooted out of his grip and off the
bed. We both had fallen asleep shortly after we devoured the pizza.
At the end of the bed, I had covered the sheets with a towel. I
smiled at his sleeping face. He was so sexy, even when he slept.
How is that possible?

When my hand met the doorknob, a voice
behind me said, “Taking off so soon? I hope that wasn’t a one-night
stand.”

I turned back. “I’d be a fool if it were.” I
hopped on top of him, and he pulled me down for a hot kiss, wet and
wicked. “Though, we do have to talk about some stuff,” I added,
pushing myself up so that I could see his eyes.

“Such as?” His voice indicated that he was
at a loss.

“Such as—well, I don’t know how else to say
it, but your pubic hair—”

“Ah,” he cut me off. “I suppose it’s been a
while since I did any maintenance down there. How much yard
work?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my throat clogging
up. “I’ve never planned on spending much time down there, but after
last night, and coming up with the list, well—let’s just say less
is better.”

“Does that mean you’re going to start
shaving?”

“I can, if you want. Is that sexier?”

“I guess it’s more attractive, yeah.” He
rolled up my shirt and brought my body down on his. “Skin to skin,
it’s nice. The warmth.”

My breasts were smashed into his chest and
my body responded, my heartbeat speeding up. His erection rubbed
against my butt, ready. “You know, I’ve heard you should never
waste a morning wood.”

“Is that right?” he asked, smirking. “Well I
can’t say I disagree with it.” His phone rang to break the mood. He
screened the caller. “Sorry, but I have to take it.” I tumbled off
him before he answered the call. He began getting dressed, so I
made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a box of cereal. Vince joined
me a minute later. “I’m sorry, but I have to head out. Apparently
there’s something wrong at the lab.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing serious,” he insisted. “I’ll call
you this afternoon.” He planted a vibrant kiss on my mouth, and
then headed for the door, his gear already collected.

“Uh, okay. Bye,” I said, staggered at his
sudden vanishing act. I closed the door behind him, turned, and
nearly jumped to the ceiling, startled by Danielle, who was
standing behind me.

“SO!” she shrieked. “I take it things went
well.
Very
well, even.”

“You’ve no idea, Danielle. Well, actually, I
guess you do. Now I understand why you were stressing so
emphatically that I find someone who can—”

“Make you come,” she finished for me. “Yes,
I did have a reason for all the criticism and advice. Are you going
to tell me about the night, or leave me dying like you usually
do?”

“It depends, are you making pancakes?”

She grinned. I hadn’t seen her this excited
for me in years, not even when the bakery opened. She grabbed my
wrist and yanked. “Come on.”

I put the cereal box away and got out the
flat pan and a bowl, starting the story with Vince’s arrival,
including the bit about her poking into the doorway. Danielle went
to town mixing the pancake ingredients, completely rapt by the
details I was providing, an uncommon feat for me.

“So, what’s on the list?” she asked halfway
through.

“That’s a little more personal.”

“Maci, it’s me. I can tell you everything
that I’ve ever done if you want.”

“I think you already have,” I pointed
out.

She nodded and made a funny face, placing
the first two pancakes on my plate. “That’s probably true. So
you’re not going to tell me?”

“Would you let me finish the story
first?”

She raised her hands as though I had a gun
pointed at her. “All right, jeez. Don’t lose your temper.”

“Yeah, like I’m the one with the short
fuse.” I laughed, buttering up the pancakes, pouring Tripleberry
syrup from Bella Farms on top.

“Hey!” She shoved the spatula in my face.
“Road rage doesn’t count.”

“Okay, okay . . . do you
want me to continue or not?”

She withdrew her threatening kitchen utensil
and poured more batter onto the pan, beaming the whole time. “Go
on.”

I supplied her with an exceptional number of
details as I continued, ending with Vince’s abrupt departure. “It
was completely mind-blowing. I’ve never felt anything so
intense.”

“And you saw red when it was happening?” she
asked, flummoxed.

“Is that strange?”

“I’ve never heard of anyone seeing colors,”
she said, “but then again, I’ve only talked to, like, four people
about orgasms. It’s not something many people share, you know?”

I tilted my head and raised my eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah, dumb question.” She shut off
the stove and served herself.

“What about Ashley?”

“Oh, she won’t be awake for another hour,”
Danielle answered, sitting beside me at the table.

I nodded. “Do you think I should ask my
OB/GYN about it?”

“About seeing color?” she asked with a
mouthful of pancake. “Nah, I wouldn’t worry about it. Tell me about
this book he got you, the guide to doing it?”

“He got a copy for both of us,” I replied,
“and it’s called the
Guide to Getting It On!
It’s huge and
looks like it covers just about everything on sex.”

“And you think it will help you open
up?”

I laughed. “I think it already has.”

“Maybe I’ll borrow it sometime.” She gave me
a cheesy look.

“I think it’s something you’ll have to get
for yourself.”

She shoveled down the pancakes, finishing
before me despite my head start. “So you’ve
never
let anyone
tongue your clit, not once?”

I fought off my blushing instinct. “Not
once.”

“Why the change?” she asked, rinsing off her
plate.

“I’ve never been able to talk to anyone like
Vince,” I said, cutting up the last chunk of pancake. “It’s just so
easy with him. It feels like I can tell him anything and he’ll
still accept me, still be there for me . . . is
that how it is with you and Ashley?”

“You could say that, though it took some
work to get her to open up and let me in—a few months, actually.
Before that, she was always telling me half-truths, or excluding
details, you know, not necessarily lying, but omitting stuff.”

“Yeah, I remember talking about that
before.”

“She also didn’t divulge much on her own. It
was like her lips were sealed until I asked the right
questions.”

“I did the same thing with Ryan,” I
confessed.

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t because I was purposefully not
telling him stuff; I just never thought about what he wanted to
know until he asked.” I swallowed my last bite, washing it down
with milk.

“Maybe because you weren’t connected enough
to consider him?” she proposed.

“Maybe,” I agreed. “It’s not like that at
all with Vince, though.”

“Well I’m really happy for you, Maci.” It
looked like she was considering whether to hug me or grab another
glass of milk. In the end, she chose the milk, which left me partly
relieved. Hugging over me having my first orgasm would have been
weird, though the hug would have also been for me finding Vince,
but still . . . “Hey, before I forget, you said
he did all that magical stuff with his tongue, but did you have
sex?”

I paused for a second before I said,
“No.”

She eyed me, skeptical. “Then what was all
that racket? I definitely heard Vince grunting and shouting. Did he
spew his gunk?”

“He came while”—I cleared my throat—“licking
me.”

“Whoa, no shit?”

“I guess it made him so hot, that it was
enough,” I said, now rinsing my plate and putting it in the
dishwasher. “I mean, he seemed to be really into it. He was moaning
as much as I was.”

She laughed. “He was a little quieter.”

I could feel the heat on my cheeks as they
changed, embarrassed.

“There’s no need to blush, Maci. It’s
something to be proud of.” She slapped me on the back in a playful
manner. “Well, it seems you found the perfect man. He certainly
excels in all the ‘Mr. Right Categories.’”

“He could be the
one
, Danielle. He
could be Mr. Right.”

12
THE DINNER PARTY

 

V
ince had called later on
Saturday and reported that things at the lab were worse than he
originally thought, so we set up a time for Tuesday instead. The
night went well, but we didn’t cross anything else off the list,
settling for watching a movie on the couch in front of his massive
TV and entertainment system.

I tried to set up a Thursday date, but for
the second time he said he was working that night, and he wouldn’t
say on what. He joked about a non-disclosure agreement. The week
progressed like normal—slow, tiring mornings mixed with long days.
On Wednesday, Vince sent me a text, saying he wanted to have a
get-together dinner on Saturday to get to know my friends. Ashley
and Danielle were in, but Bridgett thought the idea was pretty
strange and couldn’t decide if she’d attend. I invited Becky, too,
though I rarely saw her anymore. I missed her because I liked her
quirky personality, and she was actually clumsier than I was, which
made me feel better about my two left feet.

I had started running outside a few days a
week to get used to striking the ground—the minimal impact of the
elliptical was a good way to start training while the skies were
overcast and rainy, but to run three legs of a relay road race, the
bones and muscles needed the hard surface.

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