The Sex Education of M.E. Page 4

“Oh my gosh. How did you…I mean…you memorized…you actually listened to me?” The surprise in her tone emphasized the shock on her face. My first thought was: why wouldn’t I listen? My second recognized she hadn’t been heard very often. It was a shame. One skill I prided myself on was listening and observing the reaction of women.

  Emme intrigued me, but I prepared for her to turn away. Older women weren’t interested in playing games and the second I had her in the door, she might regret the decision. She’d be talking futures and children and coordinating schedules. I didn’t want any of that. I just wanted one night with her.

  Continuing to stare at me, her eyes dewed over for a moment and then she blinked. The mask returned and she looked away instantly.

  “So, would you like to come?” I nodded in the direction of the apartment. The innuendo was intentional

  “I’m sorry.” Blue eyes hammered me to the sidewalk.

  “Inside. Will you come inside with me?” While she hesitated for a moment, she stepped toward me and I had my answer. She was intrigued, as well.

  The inside of his second-floor apartment was very masculine. The living room had a black leather couch with a glass coffee table. A flat screen television hung on the wall with a series of cables and wires running under it to a gaming system. For a moment, I wondered if I’d entered the home of a grown man-child. Boys and their toys, but there was something else that caught my attention. A shelf on the wall had an array of photos. I attempted to step toward it when Merek cut me off.

  “Here’s my proposition,” he started and I stopped. “Let’s not make things complicated. I think we both know where we want this to end, but let’s just take our time to clarify things,” he said.

  A sigh of relief seeped out of me as I wasn’t certain what I was doing or how to do what I wanted. My body was wound tight but another part of me literally dripped with desire. There was no doubt what I wanted: him. His body exuded sex. The way he quirked his lip. The sparkle in his mossy brown eyes. The hint of mischief in his expressions. The scruff on his jaw. It all begged for my attention, and he had it. My body hummed with need that was almost audible. My problem: I didn’t know how to seduce him.

  Being here was the craziest thing I’d ever done.

  While I’d met my husband at a college party, and left with him that first night, we didn’t have sex until many nights later. We went on a real date first. But tonight felt different, wild and reckless, yet not dangerous. I was not frightened of Merek per se. I was terrified I’d make a fool of myself. Before I knew it, my body pressed against the wall with Merek’s body holding me in place. His hands were above my head on both sides. My breath came heavy, forcing my breasts to brush ever so lightly against Merek’s dress shirt. The sound was a tender rustling, but all I heard was my erect nipples against my satiny bra, crying out to press against him, naked.

  “I thought you said, take our time?” The words tumbled out of my mouth on a whisper. My eyes were trained on his lips. He twisted them and it snapped my attention to his full face.

  “I have my own hard limit, and it’s important.” His voice took on a smoky harshness that teased but warned me. “No kissing on the mouth.”

  This startled me enough that my lingering eyes on his jaw shot up to his eyes. The sparkle had flicked out. Those eyes told me he was earnest. I felt like I might be in a scene from Pretty Woman, only the roles reversed. A kiss was too intimate, or something like that, I remembered Julia Roberts saying. Merek set the same standard. Kissing would be intimate. This night would not involve emotion. It was like he read my mind, or at least I hoped he could because I wanted him. This could work. Kissing would be too personal. Keep kissing out, my mind whispered. I could do that. If there was an emotional burn, I’d have to deal with the fire afterward. Right now, I wanted to play with the flame.

  “All right,” I swallowed as a thick hand came to my cheek and caressed the skin so tenderly goosebumps rose across my skin. It had been a long time since I’d been touched in this manner. In a way that hints of things desired. He slipped his fingers down to my neck, his thumb cascaded over my throat before his index finger dipped along the top of my dress, over the curve of my breast. My hands had been at my side, but inched behind me, forcing my breasts forward for his attention. His mouth slowly curved upward. He read my body language.

  Surprising me further, his mouth crashed to my neck and sucked delicately down the angle of my throat to the juncture of my shoulder.

  “I thought you said no kissing,” I whimpered when he suddenly nipped my neck hard enough that my knees buckled and my sex pulsed.

  “No kissing on the lips. Everywhere else is fair game,” he groaned into my skin, sensitive and alive with the contact of his mouth. Prickling sparks covered me and I vibrated with the need to touch him in response. My hands followed their own will and rubbed up his thick arms to his broad shoulders. While one of his hands remained braced above me, he lowered the other to wrap around my back and tugged me against him. The moment our bodies collided, I ignited.

  “Oh God,” I moaned at the very nearness of him. I hadn’t touched another man, aside from Nate, in twenty years. The feel of this one was so different. Refreshing and exciting in a way I shouldn’t have compared in my head. In fact, I didn’t want Nate anywhere near what I was doing. My mind needed to remain clear in order for my body to stay in this game. Merek’s responding hum returned me to the present.

  “Your proposition?” I questioned as his mouth worked its way to removing the material over my shoulder. His teeth covered the strap of my dress and tugged it down my chilled arm.

  “I propose we only think of each other and tonight,” he muttered as his lips continued the sparking attack along my collarbone. “Tell me what you want. For tonight.”

  Remaining silent, I reveled in the tenderness of his kisses over the surface of my skin. The tiny suction and moist lips, washing my skin, like a baptism.

  “I’d like to offer you a deal,” he muttered into the crease of my shoulder. “Sex. No strings attached.”

  Hyperaware of his presence and making assumptions about his body, my concentration faltered.

  “Emme?” he questioned, snapping me out of images of his bare chest and firm length.

  “Yes,” I exhaled, wantonly, until both his hands lowered to my hips. Suddenly, I stiffened. He couldn’t touch the soft rolls and ridges formed by the boy shorts Gia talked me into wearing. Made to give a smooth look under my dress, the waist was cut higher to hold my tummy flat. It wasn’t sexy under there, but utilitarian for appearance’s sake. I was suddenly self-conscious of what I wore that shouldn’t be seen.

  My dress rose, slowly dragging up my thighs as delicious distraction and dangerous diversion. My hands instantly came to his wrists and froze the motion.

  “I…”

  He pulled back from the make-out session with my neck and stared at me. His dark eyes were almost black with desire; his lips were slick and puffy from his attention to my skin.

  “You want me to stop?” He wasn’t angry. He was curious.

  “I just…I might not be like what you’re used to.” My eyes lowered, avoiding his penetrating gaze and feeling the potential prickle of tears. Tears would be a deal breaker and I couldn’t afford this deal to not go down. But I had to warn him. I wasn’t a slim twenty-year-old with flat abs and a tight ass. I was a woman who’d birthed children which widened my hips, massacred my stomach and sagged my behind. Not to mention, the weight of my breasts made them more National Geographic than national treasure when un-holstered from a bra.

  “Emme,” he smiled slowly, “if I heard you correctly, you said you wanted sex.”

  “Well, yes…but…” I stammered.

  “And you asked how hard could it be?” His tone teased.

  “Yes, but…”

  He tugged my hand forward to cover the bulge at his zipper.

  “Is that hard enough for you, darlin’?”

  The only motion I could make wa
s a nod. He held my hand over him and I risked a squeeze. His reassuring moan encouraged me to explore the shaft straining against his shorts. The thickness of his extensive length sent my body into overdrive with desire. My dress continued upward until a smooth hand caressed the outside of my thigh, up to my hip. I tried to suck my stomach in, but my concentration faltered.

  “Just breathe,” he whispered into my neck, as he inhaled against me. “Mmmm…you smell like sunshine.”

  I exhaled and his fingers skittered over the damp cotton between my legs. I moaned. No, groaned. I might have even grunted. Whatever the sound was, it was hard to imagine it came from inside me, but other things were happening inside me that outweighed any noise. The flutter was indescribable; a million tiny leaves rustling in a breeze. My toes curled. My core pulsed. My lower abdomen flittered. Then he touched me full on, fingers brushing over me, and my knees crippled. Without the wall for support, I was going down.

  Thick fingers pushed aside my underwear and curled through wet folds. Since embarrassment was my theme, it was almost shameful how damp I was. His sounds of approval and the resounding moan against my neck increased the building pleasure.

  The sensation of his groans tingled over my skin, and a choked giggle stalled any thought. The idea of sex on the first night seemed a little overboard. As much as I wanted this, I wasn’t convinced I could follow through with it. His nose tickled me.

  “What’s so funny?” His mouth curled into a smile while he trailed over my collarbone. Before I could answer, I was sweetly impaled with a finger and my hands wrapped around his biceps.

  “Is my proposal funny?” he teased. The breathy no I released encouraged a second finger to enter me, and I was lost. Working in and out of me, his thumb joined the party and circled that sensitive nub, triggering the fluttering flits to full flight. My knees locked and my hips bucked forward. In my head, I made promises to God and any other deity that wanted to listen, to give me the release I craved. My body teetered precariously on edge, tensing, bucking, clenching, responding. Finally, the flutters detonated, and a sound I didn’t recognize escaped me as I slid down the wall. Merek caught me, still cupping my core, forcing me to remain upright as his fingers continued their attention until I felt myself drifting down from a high taller than the Willis Tower itself.

  “Oh my God,” I muttered, my eyes closing, as my head fell back against the wall. Merek’s mouth paid a final kiss to my neck before his fingers released me. My dress slipped down to my knees and my eyes slowly opened to see his mouth twitch upward. Breathing heavily, I stared at him. His expression was hard to read. While I felt satiated and replete, his face looked…confused.

  “I think this just sealed our contract,” he said as he stepped back. “Just give me a minute.”

  Here’s the thing: she was unlike any other woman. How did I know that in less than an hour? Because I’d been with many. Enough women to drown out the past and escape the present. Young, supple, experienced, innocent, all shapes, sizes, color. Women were my addiction, in some ways. More like a drug to numb the pain of things I didn’t want to admit to myself.

  When Emme went for the pictures on the shelf, I didn’t want her to focus on people that didn’t matter. Well, they mattered, but not in the moment. I didn’t want her to think about anyone but us. Not that we were an us, but I wanted her to be in the here-and-now, which her body proved, she certainly was. Wet didn’t describe her. She was drenched, and it was heavenly. Her reaction to me was distinct. She wasn’t exaggerating the experience. She wasn’t overacting. She was savoring it, memorizing it. She was lost in my touch.

  From her innocent comments, which rather forcefully fell from her mouth, she admitted she hadn’t been with someone in a long time. Maybe too long, if the tears in her eyes, while we sat on the patio at the bar, were a testament. She wanted sex, but she wasn’t willing to throw herself at me. In fact, she seemed a little awkward about the whole seduction thing. She wanted it, but she didn’t know how to ask for it. And honestly, I found it refreshing. Some women were so demanding; others I had to command. Emme let me take control, but she was all in.

  My dick was so hard, I felt a loss of circulation, and I just needed a second to calm down before I went in for round two. I didn’t want to lose it too early. It sucked getting older. I couldn’t recover as fast as I used to, and Emme was someone I wanted to repeat.

  Her body was shapely but that didn’t matter to me. I actually liked it that she wasn’t stick thin or so athletic I feared she could kick my ass. She’d ignored my comment about children. Her omission was admission that she had them. Her eyes were expressive. They widened when she got excited, as she had with her list of hard limits. They narrowed when she was annoyed, as she had when I called her dear. But I couldn’t read her thoughts. While some women told a story through their eyes, Emme didn’t. She was a cluster of mixed signals. Most importantly, though, those eyes grew lusty and heavy with the excitement of being touched. Realizing again that it had been a while since a man’s hands caressed her, my dick pulsed back to life.

  Down, boy, or we aren’t going to make it.

  Bracing my hands on the edge of the counter, I leaned over the sink and exhaled deeply. It thrilled me a little that I had been her first. Closing my eyes, I heard the soft click of a door. Damn this apartment. The walls were thin here. The slightest noise could be exaggerated. With that thought, my lip curled. The noises coming from Emme had been unrestrained. As much as she seemed a little uptight, pressing the right button would make her come undone. The pun was not lost to me. I wanted to press her again, and sincerely hoped she’d take me up on my offer. Commitment was the last thing I wanted, but an arrangement of types would solidify that I would see her again. Allowing myself one more deep breath, I pushed off the sink and headed to the living room to find it empty.

  I searched the bedroom next, thinking she might have been more a temptress than I gave her credit, but the bed was vacant as well. Returning to the living room, my hands came to my hips in frustration. I couldn’t believe it. She’d walked out.

  I’d thought a lot about Merek and his proposal. Too much, actually. To the point, I was wet and ready for him at the most inappropriate times. Not one to “take care of myself,” I suffered through the agony of desire, after I chickened out and bailed from his apartment. The sensory overload swept through my body and a strong case of he’s-out-of-my-league moved in. Self-doubt took over when he said he needed a minute, and other than the split second I thought he was headed for the ax to murder me, I couldn’t get my head back into the moment. I panicked.

  Days later, I cursed myself. I had a problem; it needed rectifying. Gia didn’t know I hadn’t followed through on sleeping with Merek, so she encouraged me to date, since I’d broken the proverbial ice, which was the cold lower region of my body. My frustration scolded me. Maybe it was time.

  My evening graduate class finished late, and I wandered into the grocery store after ten o’clock. The place was actually peaceful at this time, in an odd sort of way. Not many customers, yet there was a camaraderie. We were all here this late for a reason. Each person had a story, and some nights I’d make one up as I stood next to the display of apples, but I was too tired for imagination. My nighttime interaction from a few nights prior still haunted my thoughts to the point I was exhausted. Overthinking, that’s what I did. How hard was I making it? Of course, the word hard set off a whole string of images in my head like a pubescent teenager. Internally scolding myself, I moved onto the banana bins. That’s when I saw him.

  Quickly glancing up and across the open cases to the salad section, I noticed Merek, his defined muscles hidden under a dark gray suit jacket. The back pulled tight against the firm strength of him. The color did nothing but enhance his sexy, silver features and he caught me staring when he swung to face my direction, holding a cucumber in his hand. Forget it, I am an adolescent. My eyes shifted downward and my hands shook as I examined the bunches of yellow fruit before me for
far too long. My feet weighed heavy and circulation flowed directly to another part of my body, which seemed rather inappropriate for standing in the fresh fruit aisle.

  Suddenly, a body bumped into mine from behind. As I made to turn, ready to rip into the rude intruder of my personal daydream, I was pressed forward enough that my hands fell among the bananas.

  “Not going to talk to me?” The sound of his soft groan near my ear was a live wire to sensitive parts of me. Leaning against my backside, he bent us forward and reached around me to grab a clump of bananas. He didn’t move and we remained frozen in this compromising position for a moment too long.

  “I didn’t think that was allowed,” I whispered, turning my head to the left, wondering if people noticed us. There didn’t appear to be another soul in the produce section. For a second, it seemed like there wasn’t another human in the whole store.

  “You could at least say, hi.” His warm brush of air on my neck convulsed my body, and unknowingly, I pressed into him. His erection was pressed firmly against me. His arm still braced around my waist, and I noticed his fingers stroking the fruit.

  “What do you think of these…bananas?” he questioned, brushing the length of himself tenderly from side to side against my behind.

  “Hmmmm ... I like mine a little firmer,” I responded, swallowing hard at the implication.

  “A little…or a lot?” I heard the smile in his voice as his other hand slipped to my hip, drawing me back and forcing me upright.

  “A lot,” I whispered, despite the emptiness of the space. My voice could not have projected louder if I tried. All my concentration centered on one part of my body, and it sang a song I hardly recognized.

  “That’s what I remember,” he said, letting his hand skim down my hip to rest on the outside of my thigh. Still dressed in my skirt and heels from class, my legs separated slightly to balance my weight and force my trembling knees to lock. Melting on the floor or falling over onto the display were my only two options. I reached for a bunch of lightly green fruit.