River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (27 page)

“You make a man forget himself,” he whispers with a sigh as he lies on my back and we bask and come back into the moment together. His warmth trickles down my thigh as he pulls himself from my quivering body and sets my feet on the ground.

“Well, I suppose now the gentlemanly thing to do would be to buy you breakfast,” he says with a quick pat on my bottom as he rises and folds me into his warm, powerful arms with a low growl and a soft kiss to the top of my head.

After breakfast, he dropped me off and headed to the airport, the reality of a last minute goodbye text as he was boarding brought a joy and sadness I hadn’t felt in years. I liked this man, I liked him a lot, and I wanted more.

I am pleasantly surprised to find that he feels the same. As I prepare for bed, my phone chimes with a text.

On the ground in San Antonio, but how I long for a tiny apartment in the big city.

Missing me already? I tease.

I missed you the moment I drove away. Wow, he is pulling no punches.

I like you Jackie. And there they sit - four little words that turned the tide. I stare at them for a minute, immersing myself in the feeling. It feels good to be wanted, to be liked, just for Jackie, just Jackie.

Too forward? I giggle at his sentiment.

I think we passed forward in my kitchen. I reply.

When can I call you?

You tell me.

Tomorrow evening, seven o’clock your time.

I’ll be waiting.

Sweet Dreams Just Jackie, talk soon.

Over the next couple of weeks we phoned, texted and IM’d one another; a funny quip here, a sexy innuendo there. He has definitely grown on me, suddenly becoming a part of my everyday life. This man who is thousands of miles away has become my constant, something I count on. In such a short span of time, I simply cannot imagine my days without him.

“I’m missing your face today.” I quickly snap a selfie of the crazy grin he just painted across my face and send it to him without a second thought.

“There she is. Oh, how I miss that smile.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“I need to see that. Can we Skype tonight? I need to see you giggle, to see you sigh. I want to see you blush, the way you do when I say the right things.”

When that odd ‘ping’ emanates from my computer at exactly 11:15 p.m. my heart rate spikes and butterflies take flight in my tummy. And there he is, that deep dimple, the sweet Momma’s boy grin and those deep blue pools.

“Hi,” I sigh as I settle behind my computer.

“Well, hello, Ms. Lovely. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

I smile and so does he. Normally I would be knee deep in my comfy, but tonight calls for something special. Nothing flashy, just a new satin chemise and my favorite lightweight sweater.

“How are you tonight, beautiful? I’ve missed that smile. Are you already ready for bed?”

“Well, it is after eleven, it’s not totally unheard of for a girl to be in her pj’s is it?” I tease.

“Well,” he smirks, “I certainly wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Oh, you can keep me. You can do whatever you like with me.” I wink and lean forward, wanting to be closer to him but only end up closer to the computer.

“Is that so,” he responds, the wheels clearly turning, a devious plan being formed in that beautiful head of his. “In that case, just Jackie.” That gleaming smile jumps from the screen and shocks my heart, sending my pulse racing. “I am going to make you come tonight. Correction..” He holds up his finger to the computer, “I am going to
watch
you come tonight. Do you understand?” The tone of his voice has changed in the slightest, but I know how to respond in kind. I know how to play this game.

“Yes, I understand.” Anticipation wets my pussy and sets my heart at a galloping pace. I strain to control my evident excitement, but fear he can read it all over my face.

“Good girl. Now remove that sweater, Jackie, and let me see you.” He sits back in his chair and waits. I slip the sweater from my shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind me. He then instructs me sit on the edge of my chair, back straight, with good sitting posture. It feels like I’m on display and I like it.

I feel my nipples stiffen, my body tighten. Perhaps it is the cool air, perhaps it’s nerves, excitement. I don’t say a word, but wait. Wait for his direction and feel the slow heat rise from my center, my pussy already warm and wet from the mere suggestion of what is to come. I’m enjoying this, want to savor it, and from his occasional swift intake of air, I am certain he was enjoying it as well.

Over the next twenty minutes he makes me play with my nipples, talking to me, teasing me, demanding I pull and twist them, but never asking me to reveal myself. They could cut glass they are so hard. My breath is labored, a delicate sheen of sweat collecting at my brow and the low buzz begins to build in my ears. Then, he tells me to touch myself.

“Touch your pussy, Jackie, run your fingers along that little slit of yours and show me how wet you are.”

I do as I’m told and drag two fingers through the thick wetness of my needy pussy, closing my eyes while my fingers explore my practically dripping core. I bring my fingers right up to the camera lens for a close up. The same two fingers shiny and glistening in the light as I hold them up to the camera so he can surely see how aroused I am.

“I never did get a chance to taste you, Jackie, tell me how very sweet you are.”

I bring my fingers to my lips and slowly slide them into my mouth, sucking my essence from their tips. I am torn, slightly embarrassed, and yet – on the verge of an orgasm.

“Tell me, Jackie, how do you taste?”

“Mm,” I hum as I watch him move in his chair, still cleaning my fingers. “Sweet and salty.”

“Very good. I cannot wait to taste for myself. Now, Jackie,” He pauses, demanding my attention. I sit up straight and wait for his instructions.

“Take those fingers and circle your clit, baby. Slow circles. Go.” I slide my fingers gladly back between my legs and begin to draw slow circles around my clit and it becomes evident that I am about to burst. The little nub pulses and begs for relief and I wait for instruction as my head slowly begins to spin. “Now slip two fingers in that pussy, baby, and play, play hard.” It doesn’t take long, less than a minute for my body to erupt and my pussy to clamp down in bone crushing spams around my fingers. As I catch my breath and pull my fingers from my weeping pussy, I hear him say, “Yes baby, you are so beautiful when you come.”

“Thank you,” I reply still short of breath and throbbing. I’m not sure if my gratitude is for the orgasm or the compliment, or the whole experience. It doesn’t matter. I am in a happy place, smiling and overjoyed. There is a slight change in his tone when he speaks next. He seamlessly transitions from
telling
me by
asking
me.

“I’d like you to come to San Antonio. Let me show you my city. Come, please…say you’ll come?”

“Yes!” I jump at the opportunity, longing for whatever Texas can offer as long as he is part of the deal. “Yes, I’d love to come to San Antonio.”

The next day I book my ticket for a long weekend and the countdown ensues. I can’t get to him quick enough. This haze he has put me in is delicious and I never want it to end, and then the call comes.

“Hello, Sugar.” It is Missy. For the first time, my stomach drops and I’m unsure. These calls have always been so welcome and suddenly, I don’t want it. The thought of it just feels, like betrayal. What would Tommy think? Would he ever forgive me if he knew? I can’t even consider the answer. I have to just pretend like none of it ever happened. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? I’ll keep telling myself that.

“Sorry, Missy, not this time. I need to take a little vacation.”

“When will you be available again, Sugar?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll let you know.” And with that, I turn down the one thing that suits me, the predictable constant in my life, for the possibility of something so much better. I flop down on my bed and contemplate what I’ve just done and there they are. The almost empty pack of Pink Elephants. I grab the box and turn it over in my hands with a sigh. One last cigarette. I pull the pretty pink stick from the box and put it between my lips. The vanilla and tobacco mingle on my lips, the familiar taste of sin and comfort. I light it and watch the smoke waft above me, twisting and curling around the tiny dust particles that hang in the air and dance with the dying light of the day.

CHAPTER FOUR

When the plane lands in San Antonio, I’m about to burst from my skin, I cannot get to him soon enough, but just as I have worked myself up for an amazing airport moment, I emerge from the tram and he is nowhere to be found. I follow the crowd to the baggage claim, always scanning my surroundings, watching for him and as I round the corner for the baggage trolley I see him, standing a head taller than the rest, looking every bit the good ol’ Texas boy in his worn denim that fits like a damn glove and a white T-shirt. Every young girl’s wet dream, but the smile he wears is far better than any stitch of clothing. I can hardly contain my glee and hurl myself into his steady arms and squeeze his rock hard midsection for dear life. As I take a deep breath, pulling his essence into my lungs I realize in that moment that I am done for, lost, happily. He kisses the top of my head and laughs as I catch my breath.

“Excited to see me are you?” He pats my backside as the baggage carousel starts to move. Once we gather my bags we walk hand in hand out into the warm Texas air and I’m elated. There is something raw about the air here, unpolluted. No smog or noise, just wide open spaces, warm air and dust. It almost feels like another planet, yet with him I feel right at home. I left the worries of the city behind, with Tommy I am light and free.

“You hungry, darlin’?” he asks as he easily hoists my seriously over-packed bag into the trunk of his car.

“I could eat.”

“I thought I’d take you for some real Texas BBQ before we check into the hotel.”

“That sounds perfect.” I say with a smile.

We drive out of town to a small shack that looks like it’s about to fall over, but the parking lot is packed. Dusty pickup trucks are parked next to shiny Mercedes, motorcycles, family vans. Clearly this is a hidden gem. We walk around the back of the building to find a line half a mile long, filing in one side of the shack and out the other. Picnic tables are strewn about the large dirt lot forming an open air dining area filled with smoke, open grates and large glass jugs of self-serve lemonade. The smell is heavenly, smoky and sweet. My mouth begins to water as he directs me to the end of a long, half occupied table.

“Do you trust me?” He asks with a smirk.

“I guess I have no choice,” I tease as I sit on the worn wooden bench.

“Sweet tea ok?”

“Yes, thank you.” I watch him walk away and take his place at the end of the line, but somehow he seems surrounded by friends. He knows no strangers, and as the line moves, engages in conversation with fellow patrons all the while watching over me, an occasional wink or a grin and the appearance of that damn dimple that makes my knees weak. The line moves far faster than I expected and as I let my mind wander over the open countryside, watching the other diners he returns. He drops a big piece of butcher paper on the table in front of me, throwing his leg over the bench, sliding in close. The paper is full of sausage and brisket and smoked turkey with a couple of thick slices of white bread. We share and eat with our fingers as he pours various sauces on the paper for me to try. Dirty fingers and plastic cups, not what I expected from my high powered attorney, but everything I would hope for from my sweet Texas boy.

We check into the Mokara Hotel and Spa. Warm woods and natural stone lend a warmth to the interior of this stunning hotel. The richly appointed room is heavenly and we have our very own private terrace overlooking the River Walk. I watch the boats meander down the river packed full of tourists and families while Tommy settles up with the bellhop.

I turn to find him watching me, his face soft with wonder. His eyes sparkling with lust. He licks his full lips and steps towards me, my body responding in kind, folding myself into his arms, molding to his rock hard body. My soul sighs, the purest relief when I am in his arms, and he seems equally taken. A low hum emits from his throat as his hands roam my body, up and over my hip, beneath my shirt. He cups my breast in his large hand, the feel of his warm skin against mine ignites a low flame in my belly. With his other hand, he hitches my leg up around his hip and pulls me off the ground. I wrap my legs around him as he turns and walks with me clinging to him, bringing me to the large four poster bed, laying me down with a gentleness I wasn’t expecting.

He paints a swath of lust across my lips with his tongue before taking my mouth. A kiss so deep I feel him all the way to my toes. When I open my eyes, he hovers above me with a wicked grin. I crane my neck, wanting more, waiting for more, but he just nods and smiles.

“Change,” he says, pulling me by my arms until I’m sitting upright. He backs away from me and grabs my bag, swinging it onto the bed. “Why don’t you change? A dress or skirt, something nice. Let’s go have a drink and take a walk.” I watch him in question, my body already on a slow climb I was hoping to finish, but I can tell by the determined look in his eyes that he already has a plan. He takes a seat in the chair in the corner and watches me open my luggage.

I pull out a sundress, little red cherries on white cotton with spaghetti straps that tie at the shoulder. His eyes flare as I lay it on the bed and unbutton my jeans. I slide them slowly down my legs, watching him watch me. He reveals himself as the corner of his mouth turns in a satisfied snarl, I kick my jeans to his feet and turn away from him as I lift my shirt over my head. I watch him over my shoulder as I unfasten my bra and let it slide down my arms, tossing it to the side as I coyly cover my breasts with my arm before turning back towards him with nothing but my arm and a tiny swath of silk to cover me. His hungry eyes roam my body before he nods, a silent demand for me to drop my arm, and I do. I stand before him, wanton and wild, waiting for my wolf to strike.