The Sex Education of M.E. (11 page)

BOOK: The Sex Education of M.E.
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“Merek,” I moaned.

“Mmmm…I like the sound of my name on your lips.”

“I have…” I didn’t think I could continue with:
condoms in my purse
. Gia had dumped a truck load in there. Not needing one for twenty years, and even before that, I wasn’t certain what was in the collection she gave me.

An assortment
, she teased, before explaining color, size and flavors.

“Flavors?” I questioned.
Who puts those in their mouth? I actually didn’t want an answer.

“I’m covered.” He saved me. “I don’t suppose you’re on the pill,” he asked, pulling back from me.

“Uhm…no,” I laughed. There hadn’t been a need. Nate didn’t want other children after a scare, as he called it, when Bree was five. He took care of it himself to assure there wasn’t any future risk.

“I can’t get you pregnant,” he hinted. “But I still like to have it wrapped.”

Merek reached awkwardly for the top drawer of the night stand, and my mind wandered to the number of women that had been in this room, on this bed, with this man. Being curious was dangerous as my thoughts wondered if he had an assortment in that drawer. Removing a square foil package, I panicked that he’d ask me to put it on him. Wasn’t that the way romance novels wrote it? The woman covers this action, but I couldn’t recall the first thing about how to apply a condom. Thankfully, Merek ripped the foil and rolled the latex over himself. Admittedly, this was freaking sexy. My wanton mind was all in suddenly, as he knelt between my legs. Naked, fully exposed to him, my heart raced, but my lower region sped into overdrive. It had been a long time.

Merek ran teasing fingers over tender folds, hypersensitive and alert. I moaned, spreading my legs, begging him to take me. My pelvis tipped upward, the tension built again. I’d never had a second orgasm. One per customer, and the sale was finished. But this, this was the wave of a second coming. I wanted this like nothing I’d ever wanted before. My toes curled into the sheets. My hips rose for greater friction.

“Again,” Merek mumbled in encouragement, and I risked a peek at where his attention was focused. Watching him stroke me was too much.

“Come on, darlin’,” he said. It wasn’t a command. It was wanton in its own right. He was waiting for me. My concentration was intense. I needed this release.

“I…” My breath hitched. “Oh, God.” The wave took me by surprise. My legs shuddered and collapsed. My head rolled to the side. I gripped the sheets as my back arched upward. The sensation washed over me in a manner I’d never felt before. I would not stop. I would not say
enough
. I would not offer that I was done, so he could take me. I rode the unchartered waters until I was dry and exhausted.

And then I felt him.

His head poised at my entrance, and I opened for him. Romance novels talk about young girls having sex; they are always tight. This channel had been discovered long ago, and yet I felt like a virgin. It had been so long, and Merek was thick, and solid. Good God, I felt each ridge of him as he entered me, and my eyes rolled back. He took his time, slowly dragging out the anticipation, filling me completely. Then he paused.

“You okay?” His voice was rugged, strained, as if he held back. A tear escaped the corner of my eye. Overwhelmed and worshipped was a heady combination. As I looked away, I blinked rapidly.

“Eyes on me,” he groaned, emphasizing the words with a gentle thrust.

“Again,” I whispered, drawing my attention back to his face.
Do that again
, my head silently pleaded. All of it. Any of it.
Again, again, again.

He dragged to the edge of me, but muscles clenched to hold him inside. My knees bent and squeezed his hips. I would not let him leave me. Not yet. Painstakingly slow, he slid forward. A hissing sound circulated in the air above us. I think the noise was me.

He withdrew a little faster this time. My legs hitched up over his hips. A hand reached under my backside, and he tilted me upward. Thrusting forward quickly, he filled me to the hilt and I grunted.

“Okay?” he questioned.

“It’s…it’s…” I couldn’t describe what was happening to me, or what he was doing to me. The fullness. The completion. The ecstasy. Another tear escaped, but I ignored it. I wasn’t sad; no, I was far from sorrow

He repeated the motion, increasing each time until we developed a rapid rhythm, a beating pace that bordered on out of control.

“Darlin’.” His voice strained and he stilled over me. A vein ran down his neck. His eyes closed tight. The pulsing inside me was not my own. Three quick beats and he collapsed over me. I couldn’t bear his weight for long, but then again, I wasn’t ready for him to withdraw from me. Not yet.

 

My pulse beat rapidly as I took calming breaths. Her frame was crushed under me, but I didn’t want to move. Her arms came around my neck, holding me in place as I covered her. She held tight, and a tear trickled along my neck. I didn’t want her to cry. I didn’t want her to be sad about what we’d done. I wanted to blanket her and cursed the thought. This wasn’t like me.
What just happened?
My mind was a jumble of confusion while my body was replete with satisfaction I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The way she purred and gasped with each thrust. The way her nails scratched tenderly up my back. Her legs wrapped around me and her body in rhythm with mine. I’d had so many women over the years. An embarrassing amount. They were a means to an end, and so was this, but somehow that was a lie. She had needs, but was not desperate, and I selfishly liked that I had been her first. After all the time she’d been with one man, I was her first. I didn’t intend to replace him, though. That’s not what this was about.

I was suddenly uncertain what this was about.

Emme wasn’t someone I was prepared for. She was nearly the same age as me. She was short on sexual history. I shouldn’t have tossed her on the bed. The young things liked that. Throwing them down. Spanking their ass. Tying them up. Not that Emme didn’t want those things. Hell, I didn’t know what she wanted, but tonight wasn’t about the tricks. Tonight was simple sex. Although, it was hardly simple.

She was expressive. Combined with her lack of experience, she was unique to me. Unusual, but in a good way. Those tears haunted me, though. I wanted to ask, but then again I didn’t. I didn’t want to hear she felt guilty or she thought of someone else instead of me buried inside of her. I didn’t recognize the emotion that crept inside me and I rolled off of her hastily, using the excuse of cleaning up to separate myself from her.

I slipped out of the room, taking a second to collect my thoughts. Images of Emme writhing under me, undulating with me, sparked my dick to long for her again. I wasn’t ready yet. I needed another minute. Would she even let me have her a second time? What if once was all she wanted to fulfill the need, scratch the itch. I stood tall and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t normally care what women thought of me. I wasn’t young, but I didn’t feel old. I took care of my body. The graying shade of stubble on my face contrasted with the dark tone of my hair. I’d been told it made me look distinguished. Why wouldn’t she want me again?

On second thought, what if she wanted me to hold her. What if she wanted to talk about what we’d done? I didn’t cuddle. I didn’t have to. I never brought women to the apartment. Tonight, I was stuck. But, that wasn’t quite the right word. I didn’t feel stuck. I didn’t know what I felt. I wanted her to stay, at least for round two, maybe a round three. There was more I wanted to discover about Emme. Just how far would she be adventurous.

When I heard a thump from the floor below, I panicked. Rushing into the bedroom, I found her seated and mostly dressed. She reached down for a shoe when doubt struck.
She was leaving?
She flipped her longer hair over her shoulder, and that white blonde color made her beautiful. Her blue eyes were hazy with lust and exhaustion. If she left, I was an ass. If she stayed, I was an ass.

“What are you doing?” I crossed the room and scrambled for my boxers on the floor.

“My girls will be home around midnight. I need to go. Besides you probably have to work tomorrow.” She made it sound like she was leaving for my benefit. A trait of women I hated: turning a situation around so it seemed like they were doing me a favor.

“I…”
Did I want her to stay? Did I want her to go?

She finished strapping her sandal and stood slowly. A sheepish smile brightened her face, but her eyes avoided mine. She was sweetly shy as she approached me. A shaky hand came forward and pressed hesitantly against my bare chest. I swear she could feel my heart racing.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then smiled weakly. Kissing me chastely on the cheek, then she stepped around me and left. Again.

 

My head quickly overruled my body. While I’d love to bask in the afterglow of incredible sex, something on Merek’s face was off. When he rolled away from me, the connection with him was lost. I didn’t know what to do next. My desire to curl into him and sleep was completely unrealistic. I hadn’t slept wrapped around a man since Nate and I first dated. After twenty years, once the act was complete, Nate and I rolled our separate ways, each to our corner of the bed. Had we ever slept wrapped around one another? I couldn’t remember a time and recognized romance novels tainted what I thought should happen next. But this wasn’t a book; this was life, and mine caught up to me. I noticed the time on the nightstand clock and realized I needed to get home. I had children. It’s not that they expected me to be home, but the inquiry if I wasn’t, was something I wasn’t ready to explain to my growing girls.

I slipped out of the bed and wrapped myself back in my clothes. Straightening my skirt, Merek entered the room. Without much exchange, he watched me dress. I explained briefly why I was leaving, begging him silently to ask me to stay, but knowing I couldn’t. For once in my life, I wanted to feel like someone didn’t want me to go. I shook my head at the thought.

I stepped around Merek, held my head high, took a deep breath and left the apartment. I only made it to the car before tears blinded me. Blinking hastily, I pulled away from the curb. My hand trembled as my thoughts conflicted with what my body had done. The way he touched me. The way he filled me. It was so intense. But my inadequacies overwhelmed me. Worried I didn’t satisfy him, I took his abrupt departure from the room as evidence he wasn’t. My tears dried only enough to make it in the front door. Stunned, I found both my girls home.

“Mom?” Bree called out.

“Mom, where were you?” Mitzi expanded.

The collective questions warranted an answer, yet I didn’t want to explain myself. How could I tell them where I’d been? I went to have sex with a man who wasn’t their father. Doubtful that was an appropriate response. Swiping briskly at my cheeks, I took a deep breath and walked into the family room.

“Hey. You girls are home early,” I said, sounding a bit too cheerful. My voice cracked.

“Allison went home early tonight,” Bree offered.

“Kevin got a stomach ache,” Mitzi said. Her eyes pinched, giving off an appearance of scrutiny. My oldest knew me well. She would notice the swollen eyes. She would question the blotchy cheeks.

“Mom, you okay?” Mitzi asked. Bree didn’t shift her attention from the television.

“Yeah.” My hand wave dismissed the concern. Her wide eyes proved she didn’t believe me, but my girls were used to seeing that sad expression on my face. It had been a while, but Mitzi would excuse my appearance as thoughts of her father. Shaking her head in dismay was confirmation of my prediction.

“I’m going to bed,” I offered, and stepped toward the front hall. I hadn’t made it to the stairs when I heard the murmurs of the girls.

“Bree, did you see Mom’s face?”

Silence. Bree couldn’t pull herself away from a good movie.

“Bree?” Mitzi snapped.

“What?”

“I think Mom’s been crying again.”

Silence. My Bree wasn’t one for words.

“I thought she was done with tears. I can’t watch her be sad again,” Mitzi answered herself.

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