Undying Love (7 page)

At 7:45, they let in the long line of ticket holders. Where the hell was Allee? A few minutes later, I checked my iPhone to see if she had texted or emailed me. No message. Eight o’clock. The movie was starting. My eyes darted around Lincoln Center in search of her. Was she standing me up?

Fifteen minutes went by. For sure, she was standing me up. With a heavy heart, I called Marcus to take me home. My disappointment morphed into anger. Damn her!

“Madewell,” I heard someone from behind me call out breathlessly.

I whirled around. It was Allee, racing toward me at breakneck speed. She was wearing just her museum uniform and was not dressed properly for the chilly weather. I didn’t know whether to be mad at her or to sweep her into my arms. I chose to contain myself. What stunned me was the range of emotions she’d made me feel in such a short time.

“Why are you so late?” I tried hard not to sound angry.

“I had to deal with some last minute shit.” She was shivering.

I took off my overcoat and wrapped it over shoulders. She said nothing. There was no time to ask for details. “Come on, we probably just missed the coming attractions.”

As I gripped her ice-cold hand and led the way into the theater, she shot me a quick guilt-ridden smile. That was likely as much of an apology as I would get.

Tonight’s feature was
Camille,
the l936 Hollywood tearjerker starring Greta Garbo as a Parisian courtesan who had to choose between the wealthy man who kept her and the promising young suitor who loved her. It was a good thing I had reserved tickets because the theater was packed. Our seats were toward the back, mine being next to an aisle so that I could stretch out my long legs.

I was right. We had only missed the coming attractions, and during the opening credits, I offered to get us something from the concession stand since neither of us had eaten dinner. As expected, Allee whispered to me that she would pay me back later. I’m sure she couldn’t see me rolling my eyes in the dark. Five minutes later, I came back with two hot dogs, a giant popcorn, and two Cokes. Allee was already engrossed in the movie and didn’t even notice.

As the movie progressed, we ate the hot dogs, sipped our sodas, and nibbled the popcorn. While Allee was intensely focused on the movie, my mind was elsewhere. Questions whirled around in my head. Should I take her hand in mine? Put mine on her thigh? Wrap my arm around her? The same damn questions I’d faced as an adolescent with those haughty Spencer girls. Even with last night’s blow job, I felt awkward and anxious. I wondered if Allee felt the same way and was thinking about me. It was hard to tell in the dark, and she was so focused on the movie. I finally let myself just enjoy the film. It was a great love story, and Garbo was at her finest and most beautiful.

As the movie was nearing the end, Allee unexpectedly clasped my hand and began to sniffle. The character Garbo was playing had just died of tuberculosis in the arms of her distraught lover. Her sniffles quickly morphed into whimpers and then sobs. I’m talking loud, heaving sobs. Movie-goers turned around to look at her.

She continued to cry unabashedly. Her sobs moved me in an unexpected way. They made me want to take care of her. It was another side of her that I hadn’t seen. Or anticipated. She let me brush away her tears with my fingers, and when that didn’t work, I offered her my hankie. She blew her nose hard into the cotton swag and softly mumbled “Thanks.” It was the first time she had ever thanked me.

The movie ended and the lights came back on. While the teary-eyed crowd made their way to the exits, Allee was unable to move. She kept sobbing and sobbing. She lifted up her glasses, and turned to me. I met her gaze. Her tear-soaked eyes made her even more beautiful than she was. I again wiped away the endless rivulets of tears. Without any resistance from her, I held her in my arms.

“Allee, what can I do?” I asked helplessly.

“Fuck me, Golden Boy.”

Thirty minutes later, we stood facing each other in my candlelit bedroom. I thought fucking her would be fast and snappy, just like our first verbal encounter. But it was just the opposite. Slow. Methodical. Sensual.

Allee gazed at me for a long while. I was about to make the first move when she softly said, “Madewell, I’m gonna undress you.”

I didn’t move a muscle as she expertly lifted my t-shirt over my head, unzipped my jeans, and pulled them down my long legs. She then slid down my boxers and let them fall to my feet. I stepped out of them, the jeans, and my sockless loafers. I was totally naked. Her eyes roved up and down my body, lingering on the hard pillar of flesh between my legs. Smiling, she ran her fingers down my muscular arms, slowing over my defined biceps. Seamlessly, she segued to my ass, outlining the curvature, and then down to my thighs until she could go no further without squatting. My skin tingled beneath the pads of her fingertips. Her touch was so soft, so sensual, so soothing. So the opposite of the caustic girl who had verbally challenged me the first time I’d met her at the Met. Perhaps this was the real Allee or, at least, a different side of her.

She looked straight into my eyes. “Madewell, you have a nice body. It’s meant to be painted.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, humbled by her unusual compliment. She was no bullshitter.

Eager to see her in the nude, I reached for her blazer. She forcefully lowered my hand.

“Let me,” she insisted. I had no choice as she shrugged the jacket off and let it tumble to the floor. I had to remember that she was very independent and somewhat of a control freak. For some reason, it was difficult for her to take things from me, be it money or a favor.

“You can watch,” she said as she slowly unbuttoned her white blouse. With each button she undid, I felt myself getting hotter and hotter. At the same time, my dick was growing longer and thicker. By the third button, I could see a hint of her bra, and when she was done unbuttoning, she pulled the edges of her blouse apart, exposing her breasts in full view. Jesus! They were even more beautiful than I’d imagined. Firm and full, plumped up by the sexiest, lacy black bra I’d ever seen—the kind of bra that I least expected her to be wearing. Falling into the thick fold of her breasts was the single piece of jewelry she wore other than her watch—a gold locket on a chain.

She proceeded to unfasten her pleated skirt and pull it down. My eyes grew wide. She was wearing a sexy red lace garter belt over skimpy, high-cut panties that matched her bra. Slowly, one by one, she unhooked each garter, letting her sheer stockings slither down her toned legs to her slender ankles. She gracefully stepped out of the skirt and then yanked off her sensible work shoes and the crumpled hose. She stood before me in the bra, garter, and panties that rose on the sides to make her already long, shapely legs look longer.

Holy shit! Her body was beyond beautiful. Her creamy, unblemished skin shimmered in the candlelight, and I admired the curves and contours that made her deliciously womanly. Charlotte, in contrast, who still lingered in my mind, was a small-breasted, straight-as-an-arrow, stretched rubber band. Charlotte’s body always screamed, “Don’t touch.” Allee’s was screaming, “Take me all.” I wanted her. It took all my willpower to resist ravaging her when she loosened her ponytail, letting her dark, wavy mane cascade over her shoulders like a whimsical cape. She looked like she had escaped a Botticelli painting.

She met my gaze. “How would you describe what you see in that crap magazine of yours?”

For a writer, I was wordless. I was too shell-shocked to move my lips. Finally, I managed one word: “Hot.”
Fucking hot!

The corners of her lips curved into a sexy smirk. “Madewell, for a man of words, you surprise me. You could do better than that.”

Her put-down actually turned me on. My fully erect cock twitched. I felt like a high-speed elevator going up as she slipped off her scanty undergarments and tossed them like a stripteaser across the room. My eyes never strayed from her nor did they blink.

“Fuck me now, Madewell.”

Her directness sent blood rushing to my shaft. It felt like a volcano ready to explode. I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to my bed. I laid her face up and then lowered myself to the mattress, straddling her between my knees. Her milky white breasts quivered, and her pussy called my name. As hungry as my throbbing cock was, I wasn’t ready to fuck her. I wanted to get to know every part of her.

Planting my hands on either side of her for support, I slathered my tongue up her torso. First stop—her navel. I dipped the tip into the pit and then circled around it. Pure sweetness! My tongue’s journey continued across her ribcage until it landed in the thick warm fold between her breasts. I swept the locket aside with my hand and laved her warm cleavage. I felt like an explorer staking out a new territory. Everything about Allee was a discovery. The taste of her. The feel of her. The smell of her. The way she moved. My imagination had not prepared me for the riches I had found—or for those I would soon discover.

Lifting my head, I studied her breasts. Unlike Charlotte’s, they were so full and sensual, tipped with glorious rosebud nipples. They were just as I had pictured them. Pink, pert, and perfectly puckered. I moved my hands to the mounds, and groped them between my fingers. They were dense yet so velvety soft. I squeezed and massaged them, circling my thumbs around her tender buds. “Beautiful,” I said breathily. A moan escaped her mouth.

I wanted those beautiful rosebuds in my mouth. I wanted to taste them, suck them, roll my tongue around them… even bite them. I sealed my greedy mouth over one and nibbled it. It was indeed a rare delicacy. She moaned again. I worked the other one before running my tongue in a straight line to her neck. She tasted so, so sweet, and the scent of her was delicious. As I rolled my tongue up and down her neck like a paintbrush, her back arched and she let out a rapturous “aah.” It was obviously very sensitive and linked to her erogenous zone.

“What do you want, Madewell?” she managed between moans.

I only wanted one thing. “I want to be inside you.”

“Come,” she rasped.

“Are you on birth control?”

She smiled wistfully. “Don’t worry. You can’t get me pregnant.”

I took that to mean she was, and though I knew better, I was glad not to have to resort to a condom. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if I had any handy since I’d stopped using them with Charlotte a long time ago.

With my powerful knees, I parted her legs, repositioning us for the inevitable. I wanted our first time together to be as good for her as it would be for me. I stroked her folds, astonished how warm and wet they already were. I found her clit and played with it, rubbing and squeezing it. It grew hard beneath my fingers.

She shrieked. “Oh, Madewell, you’re driving me insane.”

I was turning myself on as I turned her on. Her pussy was so exquisite! And my erection was at its peak.

“You’re so beautiful,” I breathed into her ear, my fingers never leaving her clit.

“Now! Fuck me now!” she cried out.

She groped my heavy arousal and inserted the crown into her core. Inch by thick inch, I poured my cock into her until I could go no further. She was so tight. So hot. So wet. I groaned while she let out a dreamy sigh.

Slowly, I withdrew my thick length, and just as slowly, I slid it back down her hot, moist passage. As hungry as my cock was, I wanted to savor the sensation of being inside her.
God, she
felt good!
After a few more delicious, soft strokes, I picked up my pace, pummeling into her deep and rhythmically. Just like in my dream, she met my every thrust, intensifying the outrageous pleasure she was giving me. She groaned each time I hit her magic spot, the erotic sound of her voice only adding to my ecstasy.

Oh, man! I was losing myself in her. Endless tingles shot down my legs, from the inside of my thighs all the way to my toes. I was on fire. She was taking me to the edge. To the point of no return.

I knew she must be close too. She was panting, her soft skin beneath me slick with sweat like mine. She dug her nails into my back, the pain bringing me closer to the brink. I pounded harder and faster; she began to scream.

“Oh, baby!” I found myself saying. I couldn’t get enough of her. With one last hard thrust, and a grunt from deep within me, my cock exploded inside her as her own waves of pleasure met mine.

“Oh, God!” she cried out.

Wasted, I collapsed on top of her and buried my head in the hollow of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent. Slowly, I pulled out of her. She wrapped her arms around my back and, for the second time tonight, she sobbed—this time softly.

“What’s the matter, Allee?” I asked urgently, brushing her damp hair out of her face. Was it not good for her? Had I hurt her?

She clutched her locket and gazed at me with her tear-filled eyes. “Madewell, you were supposed to fuck me. Not make love to me.”

I crushed my lips against hers, silencing her sobs.