Lustful Memoirs
By: Gina - gina@basic-nstynct.com
Chapter Fifty SixMy eyes opened as rays of sunshine filtered into the room. I lay on my side, facing the windows, my back snug against his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around me. His breath fanned my hair with every exhalation. The morning was the beginning. Our feelings no longer hidden, our love for each other revealed. It was bliss, and I was sailing on its every wave. I turned slightly, slowly, so not to disturb him. He remained asleep, his eyelids fluttering in dream. His lips were slightly parted, dry from sleep, and red, so very red, his hair a mass of golden curls, halloing his face. His face held the darkness of the night’s growth of beard. I kissed him softly on the cheek, feeling the roughness against my lips. He did not rouse. I didn’t want him to. I enjoyed watching him. His chest would rise and fall with each breath, his forehead would crease and relax, his nose would crinkle and then return. He was the epitome of peace.
I carefully extracted myself from his arms, content to let him continue sleeping. I walked to the doors that lead to the beach. I opened them, feeling the whoosh of the sea air envelope me, surround me as it entered the room. I stepped out onto the porch, the sun warm on my skin, the sounds of birds lingering in the air. I lowered myself into the chaise. I sat for almost an hour, observing. I watched as mothers ran after their children, watched as young lovers slicked sun tan oil on each other, watched as older couples waded in the water, letting the waves lap around their ankles. I was so completely engrossed in my surroundings, that I didn’t notice his presence. When he first spoke, I had no idea how long he had been sitting on the porch railing.
"Dollar for your thoughts?"
"A whole dollar?"
"You know, inflation." He replied with a smile. I smiled back, a comfortable air surrounding us.
"I was thinking how it would be perfect to stay here. The waves, the beach, waking in your arms, untangling myself from you, watching you sleep, letting you sleep while I sit here and just get lost in my thoughts about you."
"You watched me sleep? So, tell me, I’ve always wondered. Am I as good looking while I sleep as I am while I’m awake?"
I looked up at him, the smug grin plastered on his face. Giggles burst from my throat.
"Hey, what’s funny?"
"You."
"I’m not funny."
"You’re not?"
"Nope, I’m gorgeous."
I shook my head, easing into the friendly banter. It continued for several minutes, he moving from the railing to the chair next to me. Our hands joined, our fingers entwining. Then the conversation stopped, silence, save the sounds around us, settled over us. It was comfortable silence, as we both watched the actions on the beach.
He stretched, his arms easing above his head, the muscles of his stomach, of his chest pulling taut. His eyes closed as his head moved from one side to the other. I raised my hand, taking advantage of his open form. I poked him in the ribs. He reacted instinctively, grabbing my hand he pulled me toward him.
"What are you doing?" He looked in my eyes as he spoke the words. The blue depths warmed me, as my throat restricted, not allowing for words. The easy, friendly feelings of the morning had been replaced. Lust darkened the color of his eyes. Desire masking his every expression. He pulled me closer, crushing my mouth with his.
"You need to be punished for that." He breathed into my ear, his voice, low filled with seduction. My skin tingling as his breath fanned across my earlobe. He stood from the chair raising me with him. He carried me back to bed.
We made love for hours, until the sleep of the night before was forgotten and exhaustion settled over us. We lay in each other’s arms, not wanting to move, not having the strength to move if the desire struck us. He shifted his weight, our eyes met, the love we felt for each other burning between us.
"I promised the guys I’d go to dinner with them tonight." He said the words, his voice full of regret.
"It’s okay, I have to get home anyway."
"Home, no, I want you to stay with me. I want you to go with me."
"You know that I can’t. We’ve talked about this."
He moved away from me, rising from the bed. He sighed, a sigh full of frustration laced with anger. I knew that he would not understand. The comfortableness established between us shattered.
"We’ve talked about it Blake, but I can’t let you do it. I want you here, with me. Just tell me how much money you need, I’ll give it to you. I’ll double it. Fuck, I’ll give you every red cent that I have."
I could feel the tears. I angrily pushed them away. I stood from the bed, my height in no way matching his. I stood as tall as I could.
"Do you want to be like everyone else Justin? Do you want to pay me for my company?"
He visibly faltered, before the stubborn, determined visage returned. I felt the pain I inflicted in my own heart.
"It’s not like that and you know it. Stop being so damn stubborn. Just let me give you what you need so you can stop that horrible job and stay with me."
"Justin, honey." I used the endearment, touching his arm trying my best to calm him. I didn’t want us to depart angry, I didn’t want the time we had spent together to be marred by this. "Listen to me. I want to be with you, completely. But I want to be complete as well. I want to stand on my own, without the aide of someone else. I know how much this upsets you. I know how much you don’t want me to do this. I know this because I feel it just as you do. But I have to, only for a short time longer. Then, I will be free. Free from the past, free from the job, free to be with you."
He pulled me into his arms. "Okay." The word was said but not felt. There was no sincerity in his voice. He said it for me, because he knew he had to. "I will let you do what you need to do, I’m trying to understand even if I don’t want to. But tonight, just tonight, let’s just be together, a normal couple, having dinner with some friends. Call Marie, tell her your sick, tell her the client from last night wants you to stay, I’ll give her the money. Tell her anything, but please don’t leave me tonight."
The sorrowful plea that laced his words stabbed at my heart. I couldn’t deny him, even though everything in me knew that I should.
"Alright, I will call her, for tonight. But tomorrow, I will leave and you won’t be able to argue."
"Okay." Again the word left his lips. Again it was forced. I rose on my tiptoes, placing my lips on the curve of his chin. I rubbed his back with one hand, the other entwining with his.
"I love you."
"I love you." As he said the words, he lowered his head, our lips meeting briefly before I turned from him.
"Let me go call Marie, and then we have to go shopping. I have nothing to wear to dinner."
The conversation with Marie went just as I suspected, badly. She wasn’t happy that I would blow off the schedule she had planned for me, to spend another night with this client. The lewd, unsavory comments she said about the man that she didn’t know made the protectiveness I felt for him rise full force. I longed to reach through the phone cord and strangle her with it. Those were the actions of my mind. The true events paled in comparison and didn’t offer the same satisfaction as I thought the others would. They consisted of a muttered apology, sickening nicety, and false respect. I didn’t think I would get off the phone in time, before my true feelings surfaced and I told Marie how I really felt. Thankfully, she received another call and had to cut ours short. She reminded me to call her the next morning to discuss the following evening. Then she hung up. I sighed in relief as the horrid conversation ended.
I walked back toward the bedroom, intent on wrapping myself in Justin’s arms, forgetting the conversation, forgetting Marie, enjoying him. I suspected to find him tangled in the covers, awaiting my return. However, as I entered the room, I saw steam billowing from the bathroom, could hear his voice rise over the sound of the running water, singing softly to himself. The bed had been made. Our clothes from the night before were no longer strewn across the floor. The room had been returned to its original state, with the exception of the boxes on the bed, and the clothes he intended to wear that day lying over the chair. I approached the bed. My curiosity peaked at what the boxes might hold.
As I peered at the boxes closer, I saw that they were addressed to me. I wondered what he had up his sleeve this time. I pulled the top off of the first box, finding a simple, cotton, white ribbed tee shirt. More clothing, I didn’t need to go shopping, he had thought of everything. I anxiously opened the next box. Smiling as my gaze fell over the olive green zipper jacket, below it a Hawaiian print wrap around skirt, the flowers the same color as the jacket on a beige canvas. The final box contained sandals and a silver choker, in no way as elegant as the one from the night prior, but fitting to the outfit laid out before me. I stood in awe of his taste, in awe of him in general. It was the second time he would choose my clothes. And each time I was pleased with his choices. He never ceased to amaze me.
He emerged from the room. Startled I dropped the necklace.
"Someone’s been snooping." He teased.
"They had my name on them, that makes them mine." I joked back with him, enjoying the weightlessness of these conversations.
"Okay, you win" He stated as he approached the bed.
"Oh, Timberlake, you give up too easy today."
"No, I don’t. I’ve already won."
"Oh really." He wrapped his arms around me.
"The look on your face is my prize." He turned me to face him, his lips trailing across my cheek, his scent, soap and shampoo mixed with the smell that was inherently Justin, surrounded me. I inhaled deeply.
"Do you like them?" He whispered in my ear, before his tongue slid across my earlobe.
He tickled me with his tongue, causing me to shake my head, moving my ear away from his probing mouth.
"Of course I like them. How do you know me so well? Why do you treat me so good?"
"The answers to both of those questions are very obvious. I know you because I watch you. I treat you the way I do because I love you. Besides, I like dressing you. My style and fashion sense combined with your body is stunning. I have very good taste in clothing and in women."
He smiled, the cocky grin covering his features. I glanced at him, letting my eyes take in the site of him. Rivulets of water made their way down his body, ending their journey at the burgundy towel that wrapped around his narrow hips. My blood heated. I looked away.
"What’s the matter?"
"Nothing, I can’t just stand here and look at you, in, in that, and not want you."
"What’s stopping you? I’m not."
His hand reached up between us to cup my face. His mouth poised above mine before lowering to brush our lips together. He tasted of Crest, and my body tingled at the contact. His towel fell as he started to undo the few buttons that held my shirt closed. He removed it, pressing our now bare bodies together. I could feel his arousal on my stomach, could feel the moisture that continued to linger on his body heat my skin. I moved my hand between us, wrapping my fingers around him. He moaned in response. I kissed his shoulder, over his chest. My tongue lingered on his nipple, first the right, then the left. They hardened beneath the moist heat. I continued the journey with my tongue down the center of his body, reveling in the taste of him. I lowered myself to my knees. My tongue darted out to swirl around the silky tip of his manhood. His fingers tangled in my hair. I kissed him before drawing his length into the warmth of my mouth. I sucked gently, feeling the muscles in his abdomen contract. I slowly withdrew him, before taking him in again. Several times I did this, slowly, until I heard my name on his lips. I continued, my mouth moving over him, my fingers massaging him. I felt his knees grow weak, his body tense, as I drew him in one final time, I tasted his release pour from him. I drew his essence from him, swallowing every drop he had to offer, cleansing him with my tongue. He pulled me from the floor, devouring my mouth, his fingers roaming over my body.
"Why are you so good to me?" His voice was low, throaty, his words barely audible.
"Because I love you." I whispered in reply. "Now, let me go. I need to shower and get ready, or we are going to be late."
He reluctantly released me, watching as I strode across the room, disappearing into the adjoining chamber. I showered quickly, not wanting him to be late meeting his friends. That’s when the realization of the evening events tackled me. We were to have dinner with his friends, three of the four, I had had sex with, and one of which hated me. I couldn’t do it. I shut off the water, wrapping myself in the terry cloth towel. I entered the room, finding him lying on the bed, now dressed, his head resting on his hands, his eyes shut. I wondered for a moment if he was asleep, the soft humming coming from his throat indicative that he was not.
I approached the bed, placing a hand on his thigh. His eyes opened, he smiled.
"You’re standing in front of me in a towel." His voice was flirty. "I can’t watch you stand in front of me like that without wanting you." He replayed our conversation of earlier, switching roles, but as our eyes met, he pulled me toward him.
"What’s wrong?" The flirtatiousness gone only concern remaining.
"I can’t do this." I let out a defeated sigh, the perfection of the day once again shattering in front of me.
"Do what, honey." He kissed my cheek softly. "We don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry."
He twisted, sitting me on the bed, removing our physical contact. At first, I didn’t realize why he let me go. Was he angry? Would he not understand my apprehension about going to dinner? Would he not understand that there was no way I could face his friends? Then as I watched him, realization crashed into me full force. He wasn’t referring to dinner at all. He was talking about physical intimacy. That was not what I met.
I reached out to touch him, rubbing my fingers across his freshly shaven cheek.
"Justin." His eyes remained fixed on an unidentified object across the room. "Justin, look at me." He reluctantly turned his head. "I was talking about dinner Justin, not about being with you. Every time I’m near you, hell, even when I’m not with you, you are what I want. I want you touching me, you kissing me, I want to feel your lips on every part of my body, I want to lose myself in the ecstasy that you provide. I could never, not want that, I could never, not do that. You’re my intoxication, my drug, and my escape from the world around me. I could feed, drink and live off of you forever. But it’s your friends. Those four guys we are going to dinner with. I can’t. I can’t face them. With you everything is fine nothing can hurt me. But they know about me, about my past, about my profession, they know what I was. They have no idea about what I want to be. I can’t sit at dinner and look in their eyes and not feel as though they think I don’t deserve you. I know that I don’t. But you make me believe that I do. I’m not sure that they will ever agree."
His tongue snaked out to wet his lips. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It pained me to see him struggle to find words. I didn’t want to cause him undue duress, not with talking to me in that instant or with his friends.
He took my hands in his, positioning me so that we were eye to eye.
"Listen to me, without interruption. I’m going to tell you exactly how I feel about what you just said, and I want you to hear me. I want you to understand. You and I, we are going to dinner tonight. You can’t tell me no, I won’t let you. I’ll throw a temper tantrum in the middle of this room. I’ll bother you every second of every minute of every hour until you give in. We are going to dinner. You cannot get out of it. You’ve already agreed." He paused to take a breath. I did the only thing I could. I continued to stare into his eyes.
"As far as my friends are concerned, I don’t care what they think of you, I don’t care what they think of me, I don’t care what they think of us. That being said, I know that they will see you as I do. The woman that makes me happier then I’ve been in a long time. The woman that makes my blood boil with passion, the woman that would stand in front of me in a towel and expect me to have a serious conversation, knowing full well that I can’t help but want to pull that towel from your body and ravish you. They will see what I see, because they are my friends. It will be fine. I assure you, and if it isn’t, I’ll beat the hell out of them and then we can come back here and make love until the sun comes up. Just act like you act for me. Don’t be tense. Don’t be unsure. Let your personality come through. Everything else will fall into place. They like you, Blake, and they won’t care about your occupation or anything else. They care about me, and being with you makes me happy. Everything will be fine."
"What about JC? He doesn’t like me. I know that. I heard it from his lips. What about him, Justin?"
"I thought we were talking about my friends."
"JC’s not your friend?"
"JC hasn’t been my friend in a very long time. Will he be at dinner? Of course, he will be. Does it matter to me? No. So don’t let him matter to you either."
"Are you sure?"
"I’ve never been more sure of anything. Now, get dressed, we are going to be late."
I could no longer argue. I picked up the outfit he had chosen and started to dress.