The Sex Education of M.E. Read online

  I smiled to myself and let my arm cover his. He tugged me closer to him, and I gave into the steady breathing of him behind me.

  I woke with a start at 3:30 p.m. I don’t know what made me wake, but it took a moment to realize where I was: wrapped around Emme. In her bed. It felt strange, and yet, holding her didn’t. It seemed strange to snuggle, such a girly word, but I liked the feeling of it. The pressure of her leaning into me, like I protected her. It made me feel…important. I wasn’t one to cuddle, and I typically didn’t fall asleep with women. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept holding a woman. The usual result was present. I was hard and ready for Emme, but she slept soundly, her body limp and relaxed against mine.

  Her questions upset me. “How does it work?” She was digging for answers, and I didn’t want to lie. When she offered her honesty, it felt safer to admit the truth. I would keep calling her. But if she continually told me no, I’d want an explanation. Why she had a change of heart. Then again, she hadn’t wanted matters of the heart to be involved. She wanted sex, so that’s what we had done on two occasions. That was the deal.

  Knowing her girls would be home soon from their summer jobs, I had to get out of her house.

  “Emme, darlin’, I need to leave.”

  “Mmmm…” she purred and wiggled her behind into me. My dick strained against my zipper. Why did she have to be sick? And why did she have to make this harder on me? I kissed her shoulder as I slipped my hand over her hip. She hardly stirred as I balanced upward. She rolled to her back just as my leg hitched over her to exit the bed. Our eyes caught as I straddled her.

  “Where are you going?” Her scrunched brow questioned.

  “How’s your head?”

  “Better,” she exhaled, rubbing a hand over her forehead.

  “I need to go,” I whispered. She nodded. Slipping off of her, her hand caught the pocket of my shorts as I bent to pick up my shoes.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed. The tenderness of her tone pinched my heart. The way she looked at me, like I was her hero, made my heart jump in my chest. My mouth watered to taste her sweet mouth but I settled for a kiss to that crinkled forehead and let myself out of her house.

  I called her on Thursday. It had been a full week from the time in her van, and I was ready to burst at just the thought of entering her. She was hardly in the apartment door and I had her pinned against the wall, my mouth devouring her neck and making its way down to her breasts. Her hands slid over my hair, and tugged gently, guiding my destination. I slipped the cup of her bra under her large breast and sucked deeply, falling to my knees before her. My mouth watered with the fullness as I laved and nipped at her peaked nipple. Her responding moans and rolling hips told me she was desperate for me, too.

  My hands slid up her dress and gently removed her underwear while my mouth moved to her other breast. Her fingers tenderly scrapped against my scalp, and each prickle sent sparks to my already straining length. My fingers slipped up her thigh and entered her quickly.

  “So wet,” I moaned against her warm breast. “So ready for me.” Surrounded in warmth, her muscles clenched around two fingers, holding me inside her.

  “Merek,” she groaned, while her hips rocked forward, sucking me deeper inside her. My thumb circled the pearl of pleasure outside her entrance and her knees bent. Her back supported by the door, I forced her upright as I continued my attention to her breast and her clit. My mouth sucked harder, my fingers dove deeper, and then the tell-tale sign I’d quickly memorized about Emme happened. Her legs stiffened. Her thighs clamped together, holding me inside her, and she hissed my name in pleasing wonder.

  “Oh my God, that was fast,” she giggled, as the orgasm slowed and my fingers released from her. “Well, I guess I can go now,” she teased, but I stood quickly, framing her in with my body.

  “Oh, I’m not nearly done with you yet,” I murmured, returning to her neck, pecking a trail up to her jaw. My mouth watered again. What would it be like to kiss her? Would it be so wrong? Was Marshall right, my heart had been so broken in the past I didn’t wish to get close to anyone again? That scar had been made long ago. I’d found the means to move on, but before me was someone I might want to take one more step forward with.

  I released her as my prisoner, letting my hands drift down her arms to circle her wrists. Stepping back, I tugged her toward the bedroom.

  “What, no plying me with wine first?” she teased. I stopped in my tracks.

  “We can drink after,” I suggested, wondering where the suggestion came from as well as noting it implied she should stay awhile. She smiled in response and I began walking backward again.

  “I’m sorry you always need to come here,” I said for no particular reason. While I wanted to have sex with her at her house, I understood the reason why we didn’t. I didn’t want to take her to a hotel. I had long since stopped doing those kind of rendez-vous.

  “I don’t mind,” she said. “Although it does make me feel like a hussy.”

  She stumbled into me by my abrupt stop.

  “Why?”

  “I feel like you call and I follow. I come to you, booty call.” She shrugged like it didn’t matter, but it was clear that it did. Based on all her questions the other day, it was obvious that Emme wasn’t going to be able to remain in this mindset of casual sex for long. She was a woman who would need a little bit more and I was going to be sorry if that day came soon.

  When we entered the bedroom, she placed her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to sit down on the edge of the bed. Her mouth came to my forehead, then my cheek. She dipped below my ear and nipped the lobe, causing me to shiver.

  “What are you doing, you vixen?” I laughed, but she ignored me. Her hands tugged my shirt and I raised my arms, allowing her to take it over my head. Paying close attention, her fingers mapped my body, starting at my shoulders, and travelling down each arm. She lowered her body to kneel between my thighs, and I swallowed hard at the idea of where she headed. A fingernail traced over the artwork on each bicep. Looking left, then right, she covered the outline of tribal bands, and fire symbols, and an Irish trinity.

  “CFD?” she asked softly. My eyes closed, having memorized the date under the bold styled letters.

  “My father was a fireman. He died in a blaze when I was in my late twenties.” I swallowed the lump in my throat after the explanation. Her eyes didn’t move from the tattoo and her lips covered the symbol of my father’s death with tender kisses. Her mouth took its time down my arm, sucking at cool skin, and nipping in places, sparking a sensation unlike any I’d known before. It was tender and tempting, and when she reached my wrist, her tongue flicked a design around it. When those lips covered my index finger, and sucked it deep inside her warm mouth, I had to loosen my shorts, the tension was too tight.

  “Emme,” I whispered on a groan. Her fingers unzipped my shorts and I sat up enough to tug them down to my knees. Her mouth moved on to another finger, building the anticipation of what she’d do to another part of me.

  “I’m not terribly good at this,” she prefaced, wrapping her hand around me and stroking. Under her tender touch, I flinched and my dick pulsed within her grasp. Delicate fingers circled me, dragging over each ridge of silky skin, tugging firmly over my erection. Her tongue hesitated as it licked over my head, and I sprang forward with the contact. Moisture seeped out the tip, and she smoothed it over my tight shaft before diving forward and sucking me deep into her warm mouth. The sensation was clearly unique, as she tugged me to the back of her throat. One hand cupped my balls, squeezing tenderly while her hot mouth covered me.

  My fingers briefly slipped into her hair. Not wanting to take control and do to her mouth what I longed to do to another part of her, I fell back on my elbows to watch the show. She was on her knees, but she rose higher, pulling me deeper. Her tongue worked harder as it wrapped around me, circling and sucking the veined ridge of me.

  “Emme, you’re gonna make me come, beautiful,
” One hand returned to her hair to still her. While I enjoyed each lick and suck of her mouth, I wanted to be deep inside her.

  “Emme, come here.” Tugging her upward, I smiled to see her lips moistened by her attention to me.

  “I wasn’t doing it well, was I?” Her face fell, and I had a sick feeling it was another thing her dead husband hadn’t appreciated about her.

  “Emme, it was incredible, but when I come, I want to be deep inside you.” I stood to my full height, stepping out of my shorts, and taking her dress with me over her head. My eyes roamed her body, while my palm flattened and dragged down her body. Something was different. Her breasts sat higher. Her panties were lower. The material was lacy and thin.

  “Are these new?” I fingered the fabric with an eager finger. “Did you buy this for me?”

  “I bought them for me,” she sassed, but as I reached behind her, and unclasped her bra, she admitted the rest. “To wear with you.” I smiled into her shoulder before kissing it and slipped the new bra down her arms. Next were the panties. We stood naked and ready, and my hands skimmed over her cool skin. She shivered, but it wasn’t the air conditioning.

  I sat back on the bed, scooting backward toward the pillows. Emme followed over me like a cat on the chase of her prey, and I willed her to catch me. She straddled me and I reached under the pillow where I already had condoms waiting. Her eyebrow rose in question, but her lip twitched into a smile. While I fiddled with the wrapper, she covered me. Hot, wet folds spread over my heavy dick, and she dragged herself slowly up and down the firm length.

  “Emme,” I warned, as her body undulated, her hips rocked. My hand came to her hip and she shook her head. She was finding the friction she needed and her pace increased.

  “Let me get the condom on, darlin’.” She dragged back only enough to allow me a quick second to cover myself. Her wet heat slid over my balls and I lost my train of thought, pausing mid-roll of latex as she circled the tender sack.

  “Fuck, Emme,” I groaned, softly. My attention to the condom complete, she pushed my hands out of the way to ride over me again. Her thighs clamped, and her heat swelled. I watched in wonder as Emme took control. Placing the tip of me at her entrance, she rose up on her knees only enough to balance on the precipice of my head

  “Now, Emme.” My hands gripped her hips, and she forced herself downward, impaling herself. Her hands rested on my chest as she took me deep, and stilled. Her hips swiveled and then she rose again, dragging up to the tip, keeping me just inside, but not enough. My temptress, not nearly deep enough. Then she slammed down on me again and I bucked up, my pelvis colliding with her thighs.

  She repeated this motion several times before remaining sheathed over me, rocking rapidly, forcing that nub of pleasure to rub in the right way against me.

  “So close, baby,” she whispered, clearly lost in pleasure, and my heart swelled at the endearment. “So close.” Her breath caught. Her fingernails lightly brushing over my pecs, teasing my nipples and playing with the slight V of hair on my chest. I’d considered shaving it off as the gray hairs filtered in that area, but I noticed Emme rub her fingers through it the first time, marveling at the curls. She seemed to like it.

  Suddenly, she tightened. Her muscles clamped over me. Her rapid rolls stalled to circling curls of her hips, and she sucked me deep inside of her. She stilled, her mouth slightly open. Her face flushed. Watching her come, and feeling the warmth surround me, pushed me over the edge. I’d been holding out all week for her, and the orgasm was so intense that I saw stars. I held her hips, forcing her down as I spilled forth, filling the condom, but wishing I filled her.

  Emme fell forward, her hair tickling my neck, her mouth finding my shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and I chuckled at the sensation of her words on my skin.

  “For what?” I laughed.

  “That was amazing.” She smiled into my neck. Covering me, her breasts flattened against my chest and my fingers tickled up and down her back. Her breathing slowed as she melted against me.

  “I like you, Emme.”

  “I like you, too,” she muttered, giving me another smile against damp skin. “But I thought that wasn’t allowed,” she mumbled, pulling back, a tease to her tone. Understanding her meaning, I thought of the proposal.

  “It isn’t, I guess.”

  “Too bad,” she said, quietly, shifting to release me, and lay to my side. I didn’t like the empty feeling that followed the loss of her. One leg still draped over mine, but her body angled to the side of me. The moment was shifting for us.

  “Why?” I questioned, attempting to look in her eyes, which followed her finger, tracing over my chest and teasing through that V of hair.

  “Because everyone could use a friend.”

  “Yes, but if we were friends, we’d be friends with benefits, not fuck buddies,” I joked. Emme’s finger stilled. Her eyebrows pinched at my attempt for humor. Her expression shifted while she tried not to betray her hurt.

  “I guess,” she muttered, removing her hand from my chest and slipping her leg off mine. I reached out to stop her thigh, but her momentum kept her moving. She lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling and I balanced on my side. She refused to look at me. I had turned an incredible moment to dust. Fuck.

  To say I was surprised when Merek texted me the next day and asked if I wanted to take a bike ride was an understatement. I first thought it was a euphemism until he explained it was another bona fide offer. After his crass comment about friends with benefits being slightly better than fuck buddies, I wasn’t certain how I felt. My body felt amazing, and I felt wanton, and wanted, the second Merek had me pinned to the wall. But my heart withered with this arrangement. He’d been so sweet to help me when I was sick, and tender as we had sex. Then he said what he said when we were finished. My stomach roiled at his words and I left shortly after he’d ruined the moment. I refused the offer of wine and decided to go home with hardly any dignity remaining in my new bra and matching panties.

  - Want to take a ride? His text asked.

  My answer wasn’t immediate. I wasn’t certain I could continue with whatever it was Merek and I were doing. We’d been together three times and I knew nothing about him. Children? Job? Ex-wife? Hidden body parts in a freezer in his garage? I mean, what did I know? He gave me incredible orgasms, yet he wouldn’t kiss me.

  But I took the time to struggle with a bike in the garage, pulling it out from the clutter surrounding it, and filling the tires with a handheld pump. I hadn’t had that kind of workout in a while and I was a sweating mess when I finished. I wrestled the bike into the back of the van, and then showered. I went casual, in shorts and a tank top, not certain what all a bike ride would entail. It was a beautiful summer day and Merek said to meet him at Irving Park by the lake. I was familiar with the large parking lot, as we had parked there for Cubs’ games years ago. The thought brought back memories of fighting with Nate about directions, and then his refusal to spend money at the park on hotdogs or drinks for the girls. He was tight like that. It was one reason I always had popcorn at movies when I went with the girls as children. He had refused the purchase when we were on a date.

  As I parked near the tennis courts, where Merek had suggested, I noticed a man in a biking outfit standing next to a black truck. Spandex shorts hugged his ass. A loose fitting bike shirt hung over his mid-section. Helmet, gloves and narrow shoes completed the outfit of a man ready to race the lakeside. I parked near him as he fiddled with something on his fancy bike. Exiting the van, I came around the back, and struggled to remove my own bike.

  “Beautiful day for a bike ride,” I huffed, as I hopped into the back and worked the twisted handle bar.

  “Yes, beautiful.” My rear end pointed outward and I glanced over my shoulder at what sounded like a familiar voice. Standing at the end of the van was the man covered in biking gear, his face hidden by aviator sunglasses. His lip twitched in that telling grin and I realized it was Merek
. Stunned, I stopped fumbling with the bike and turned awkwardly to face him. My tank top dangled forward and Merek seductively lowered his glasses to get a better view.

  “What do you have on?” He asked breathily.

  “What do you have on?” I barked with a laugh. Oh my God, we couldn’t have been more opposite with him in his sporting gear and me in my ragged shorts and a ribbed tank top. I walked hunched over to exit the van and he reached up to help me out. His hands were covered by the elaborate riding gloves.

  “Clearly, I’ve misunderstood what you meant when you said bike ride,” I gasped, taking in his full apparel again.

  “Clearly, I misunderstood,” he said, looking into the back of the van at the Target special, mountain bike, that looked like it came from a dumpster compared to his thin racing bike.

  I exhaled deeply and sighed in embarrassment. There was no way I could keep up with him if his idea of a bike ride was for exercise or speed. I just assumed he meant a stroll along the lakefront. It confirmed what I already knew — Merek and I thought differently. And I was not in his league.

  “I guess…I guess…I misunderstood,” I said again, rubbing at my forehead and trying to fill the awkward silence as Merek removed his riding glove. “I mean, you’re dressed for a race,” I giggled, nervously. “And I … am not.”

  “Where’s your helmet, at least?”

  “I don’t have one.” As if that decided things, I turned to close the van. “I think I’ll just go. You go have fun. This was my mistake.” My humiliation mingled with irritation. His sleek bike and riding outfit was another reminder Merek was very physically fit, and I was not. It also was a reminder of the young girl he cornered at the club. It made sense that he preferred younger, more active women. As I slammed shut the van door, Merek’s hand came to my arm.