Hard Choices (7 page)

I pulled into my garage and ran inside. Should I change? Should I touch up my makeup? Should I slip on some prettier panties? Wait – did I
have
prettier panties? Man, I really needed to go shopping…

I ran into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror. Oh well. I looked fine. Aaron and I were obviously both on the same page: sex and just sex. In all our email exchanges, we’d never really talked about anything personal or intimate. I really didn’t know him at all.

And I didn’t care.

I was wearing a decent bra, but it suddenly dawned on me that the best choice was to slip my panties off – just like I’d promised. My knee-length skirt wouldn’t give the whole game away too early. I heard a quick, insistent rap on the front door, and tossed my panties in the hamper in the bathroom as I raced down the hall and down the stairs to the front door.

I threw open the door and caught my breath. He was wearing jeans and a tight white t-shirt. He was tanned and beautiful. My god, he was seriously more gorgeous than I remembered. His eyes bore into mine, slightly narrowed, like he was siting his prey.

I spent a second or two taking him in with my eyes, then reached out, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him through the doorway. I’d barely thrown the bolt on the front door when he whirled me around and finally,
finally,
kissed me.

Cupping my face in his hands, he probed me with his tongue, as his fingers massaged my neck and scalp. I brought my hands up to his, pressed my body up against him, and moaned at the contact.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead to mine. “Jesus, Lyssa,” he breathed. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve already ‘thought about you in the shower’?” Wow. I’d been starring in his fantasies?

“Oh yeah? When you thought about me, what was I doing?”

“Nothing as good as that moan, I’ll tell you that. After one look at your legs, and feeling up that stellar rack of yours, I didn’t need to get that creative to get off just
thinking
about you.”

I felt my nipples harden. I felt myself get even wetter. I felt swollen.

“Fuck me. Now,” I said. I didn’t even recognize myself.

I didn’t have to tell him twice. He pushed me back against the half stairway, laid me back against the stairs, and yanked up my skirt. When he realized I really wasn’t wearing panties, he moaned. “Christ, that is so fucking hot.” I reached forward, undid his jeans and yanked them down.

“Take your shirt off,” I commanded. He did, kicking his shoes, jeans and boxer-briefs off in a practiced motion.

Dear GOD. If I’d thought he looked good in a suit, it was nothing compared to what he looked like
out
of it. His wide shoulders and tightly-toned muscles told me he was probably a swimmer. He was mostly hairless, but a thin strip of golden down defined the center line of his six-pack. And Robert had been right: his erection had to be nine inches long. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I reached out and took his huge dick in my hand. He groaned and threw his head back, letting me stroke him for a few seconds.

I was lost in his body, lost in the beauty of it, lost in the intensity of the moment. I didn’t have any doubts, no reservations. I just wanted him.

“Your turn,” he said, tugging on my shirt.

“No,” I said. I lay back against the stairs again, making sure my skirt was hiked up. “I
said,
fuck me.” His eyes got wide for a second, then narrowed with lust. Lust. For me.

He reached for his jeans, grabbed a condom out of the back pocket, ripped the wrapper off, and slid it down his shaft.

I was worried that I’d come the second he touched me.

Kneeling in front of me, he cupped my ass with his left hand as he guided himself into me with his right. My back arched and I cried out as he entered me. I had never been filled up like that. I felt every inch of him along every inch of me. Every nerve-ending in my body was raw. Even where his hand cupped my ass felt like it was on fire.

He stroked me slowly, from on his knees, drawing it out as I writhed on the stairs. Slowly, slowly, until I thought I was going to explode. Suddenly, I sat up and looked him in the eyes. “Fuck me. Hard. Fast. NOW,” I growled at him. He kept eye contact with me as he plunged deep inside me, grasping my hips firmly.

“No,” he said, still moving slowly.

“Don’t tell me no,” I told him. I liked this game. But he needed to know who was boss. I slipped my hand around his neck and gripped the hair at the base of his neck. I leaned forward and pushed myself up into a sitting position, leaning on my other hand, and pulled on his hair, just a little. We were both breathing hard. I bit his lip, carefully but not gently. “You do what you’re told,” I said breathlessly, “and you can have whatever you want.” Then he kissed me again, hard, stroking me faster now, giving me what I wanted. I reveled in the feeling of his beautiful body next to me, inside of me. I released him and laid back against the stairs again, and squeezed him with my thighs. “Now,” I said.

He snarled at me, then lifted himself up onto his toes, his strong, ripped arms braced on either side of me, and thrust himself deep inside me. Hard. Fast. Again and again. And again. I was lost in my own body now, lost in sensations I had never felt before. Finally, crying out, I threw my head back. I came so hard, I felt like I was going to shatter. I was dimly aware of him crying out, too, then we both collapsed onto the stairs, trying to catch our breath.

I felt the orgasm like waves over my body, even with the weight of Aaron on top of me. I was completely relaxed, but I felt my body almost… spasm every few seconds. I had read about “aftershocks” before, but I had never experienced them. It was
incredible.

“Seriously,” gasped Aaron, his face against my stomach, “how stupid is your ex-husband?”

It was such a random thing to hear, in the midst of my euphoria. It didn’t kill my high, though. Nothing could right then. “Who? My ex-what?”

He lifted his head and looked at me, smiling that panty-dropping smile again. I looked him in the eye, and we both started laughing. Soon I had tears of laughter running down my face. I realized these were the first tears I’d cried since Scott had left, and that made me laugh even harder.

Aaron pushed himself back up onto his toes again, holding himself in a plank position over me.

“God DAMN, Aaron,” I breathed, running my hands down his chest, across his six-pack. “Don’t. Move.”

He laughed again. “Sorry, but I have to. I’m going to need some food before Round 2,” he said, and he dropped a kiss on my nose. It was playful, but not intimate, and I liked it. He stood up and asked nonchalantly, “Bathroom?”

I smiled and pointed tiredly up the stairs behind me. “First door on the left,” I panted.

Aaron scooped up his clothes and leaped over me, giving me a quick but clear view of his magnificent package. I collapsed back against the stairs, staring at the ceiling.
Holy shit, Lyssa! Did you really just do that?!
The residual throbbing in my lady parts told me that yes, yes I had.

I ran my hands through my hair, and realized I was, in fact, going to have to get up at some point
.
I hopped up and winced a little. Wow, I had used muscles I hadn’t used in… a while. They were sore. I moved significantly slower than Aaron had, enjoying the languorous post-orgasm feeling.

I went up the stairs slowly, trying to hold on to that moment of bliss. Walking past the bathroom, I heard the water running. I knocked on door and called, “You can hop in the shower if you want. Towels are in the closet.”

“I’m good,” Aaron called back. “I need to
eat,”
he opened the door, dressed again, and smiled knowingly at me, “then maybe you can
help
me take a shower.”

I smiled and said, “Let me change my clothes,” I tugged on my skirt, which was covering me, but bunched up.

I started down the hall, and Aaron followed me. I headed straight to my closet, and he plopped down on my bed. “Make yourself comfortable,” I said sarcastically.

He jumped right up. “Oh, sorry,” he looked genuinely distressed. “Is this, you know, your… marriage bed?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I was just teasing you. Besides, I replaced the actual ‘marriage bed’ shortly after my ex left. But a few months before he moved out, Scott claimed that he was worried his snoring was keeping me up, and started sleeping in a guest room.” I cocked my head to the side as something suddenly dawned on me. “That must have been when he started seeing Sarah,” I said thoughtfully, as I pulled jeans and a button-down blouse out of my closet.

“What a douchebag,” Aaron said with venom, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “If he wasn’t happy, he should have left
before
he started fucking around.”

“Yes, well,” I said, turning around and unbuttoning my shirt, “remember that, when you’ve been married for twenty-plus years and your eye starts to wander.”

I realized Aaron wasn’t listening anymore. He was watching. So I unbuttoned my shirt very, very slowly.

“Take your skirt off.”

This time, I let him tell me what to do. I unzipped my side zipper and dropped my skirt. I was standing in my bra, no panties, with my shirt unbuttoned. A slow smile spread across Aaron’s face. “Even better than I imagined,” he breathed. “Come here.”

I walked over and stood in front of him. He reached out and wrapped his hands around my bare waist, under my shirt, and pulled me in to him. He was so tall, standing in front of him, his face was level with my breasts. Kneading my body with his hands, he pressed his forehead into my chest. “You’re going to kill me,” he laughed.

“I just might,” I said, seductively. I hoped. This was all so new to me, maybe it sounded lame, not sexy. Fun thing with Aaron, though, was that I didn’t care if I screwed it up. I knew
he
sure as hell didn’t care.

Still feeling brazen, I pushed him back on the bed and climbed on top of him. Squirming on top of him, I noticed – even through his jeans – that he was, in fact, ready for Round 2. Ahhh to be young again!

He reached up and peeled my shirt off of me. “Take off your bra,” he said gently. I sat up and unhooked it, then tossed it aside. I felt vulnerable for a second, sitting on top of him naked. We’d already had sex once, but I’d stayed mostly dressed. But now, as Aaron took in my body with my eyes, I found I wasn’t the least bit shy. Aaron had a very expressive face, and his expression said that he liked what he saw.

He was kneading my waist again with his hands. “You said you’re a runner, right?” I dimly remembered mentioning my morning run in one of our email exchanges. I nodded. “You can tell. Every inch of you is firm,” he smiled, kind of glassy-eyed.

“Well, let me see what part of
you
is firm,” I said.

He laughed as I stood up and pulled his jeans and boxers off again. “Goddamn, my friend,” I said, shaking my head, “that is a beautiful cock you’ve got there,” he reached down and took it in his hand, stroking himself while I reached into his jean pocket to find another condom. I pulled out a string of them. Must have been a dozen there. “My, my,” I smirked at him, “you
are
ambitious.”

“I’ve been here less than thirty minutes, Lyssa, and we’re already on our second one,” he said, still stroking. God it was hot, watching him touch himself like that. “I’d say I was
accurate
more than ambitious.”

This time, I ripped the wrapper open. It had been more than ten years since I’d handled a condom, before Scott had his vasectomy, but I found that I remembered exactly what to do. I slipped it down over Aaron’s erection, stroking his length a few times while I was at it. He lay back on the bed, his arms splayed over his head as I continued to stroke. But I wasn’t wasting that spectacular hard-on on a hand job for him. That bad boy was for
me.

I kneeled on the bed over him and lowered myself, taking him into me. I whimpered in pleasure as he filled me up. He groaned as I lifted myself up and down. He was too long for me to really stroke him that way, though, so I leaned forward on my hands. This was one of my favorite positions, but Scott had never gotten into it. I never knew why before. But as I watched Aaron lying kind of helpless beneath me, I realized that Scott had never been secure enough in his manhood to subjugate himself to me like this.

Aaron was.

I moved forward and back in a steady rhythm, while Aaron kept his arms above his head, rather than grabbing my hips and directing my motion, like he was telling me, “Use me how you want to.”

His body was absolutely incredible. He really did look like a billboard underwear model. I kept my rhythm steady and reached down to lick his shoulder, his neck, his earlobe. He sighed with pleasure. I felt the pressure building in me again, and was shocked that I could come again so fast. I moved faster and faster against him, enjoying the feel of our bodies rubbing each other. Aaron reached up and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight as we both came again, softly moaning against each other’s throats.

I collapsed on the bed next to him, feeling almost light-headed after such intense orgasms. Aaron threw his forearm across his eyes to block out the sunlight coming through the window as we lay there, next to each other, trying to catch our breath.