Keely, Book 3, 002

On the couch, draped over Cole’s hard body, she lay with her cheek at his collar. Sleepy eyes cast on the bottle of wine on the table and the two almost empty glasses. She stirred, and his hand went to hold her. She ran an inside thigh over his knee and kissed his neck. She said, “I’m so glad you don’t have emotions.”

He chuckled, and she bounced on his chest. It made her smile. He said, “How dare you. You know I have emotions.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do have emotions.”

She ran the palm of her hand in three big circles on his hard chest. “I was joking, baby. I just mean you make me feel safe.”

“You are safe.”

“See?”

“Don’t worry about me. I got you. You’re my Maggie.”

“I know,” she said in a soft purr, running her thigh on his again. Hoping he would get the picture.

His hand dipped from where it curled her ribs down to the narrow of her waist. She eased up, rested her elbows on his chest. He watched her through narrow eyes. That handsome face of his was at times breathtaking. This was one of those times. Pronounced cheekbones; sunken, dimpled cheeks; soft lips and a hard jaw. His thick blonde hair swept back from his face, bright curls against their couch pillow. She touched his face, running the pads of two fingers along the beautiful edges of him. He watched her eyes as she did. She said, “You were hard when I got home.”

He gave a brief cough of a laugh that made her bounce again. “I was.”

“I felt it.”

“I tried to keep it away from you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” he laughed. “It wasn’t the time.”

“Did you miss me?”

“I guess you’re feeling better.” He worked himself higher along the couch so he could look at her, she on top of him going along for the ride.

“How do you mean?”

“Max and Keely didn’t do it for you?”

“Ouch,” she said, and smiled.

“You need your Cole.”

“They forgot all about me.” She showed him a pouting, sullen face, emotions pushed down, performing to turn her man on now.

“How could they forget about my Maggie?”

“I know—what’s wrong with them?”

“They didn’t get you off?”

“No, they didn’t. I didn’t get anything,” she said.

That widened Cole’s smile, and she batted at his chest. She said, “What—you’re glad?”

“I’m not anything. But you have to know that I’m happy to hear you know where to come.”

“I know where to come,” she said.

“To come,” he said again.

They were quiet a moment, and then she got his double entendre. She giggled, buried her face in his chest. “Yes, I know where to come to come.”

He hugged her, said, “I think we should go upstairs.”

“Or wherever,” she said. She straightened her face and said, “I don’t want it rough. I want to make love.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” He shifted to the front of the couch so she fell off him; she went to her back as he rolled over top of her and kissed her neck. “I know my Maggie,” he said.

“You do,” she sighed and caressed his neck. Her hands traveled his chest then slipped underneath his sweatshirt. She could feel his hard, lean muscle under the T-shirt he wore; she loved him.

She let her hands explore while they made out, his kiss the perfect kiss. They traded tongues, sucked on each other’s mouths. She undid his drawstring pants, found his cock hard again. His big cock. The big club between his legs that she loved. She caressed his hanging balls. Also big. She loved every bit of him. Over time, she couldn’t believe she had him. But she did. Her claws sunk deep in him and she could see it in his eyes that it was real. Realer than it had been with Max, and though that hurt her stomach sometimes, it was true. There was something sharp about Cole’s love. Something that plunged into her in a different way. Max was about care and love and cuddling, but about mutual selfishness, too. It was a barrier between them, though no man meant more to her than Max did. Not even Cole, no matter how much she loved him. Max was her first love. And it was a profound feeling, but so different from what she had with another man. When she thought of Cole, her heart soared. When she thought of Max, her heart ached. Ached for what she'd lost and for what could have been.

She pushed Cole’s pants down now, whispered in his ear, “Lay back.” Her strong lover traded positions with her again, going to his back and putting his head on the pillow. She hiked up his sweatshirt, worked her mouth down his body. She kissed his stomach, kissed his navel, bit at the taut drum below. His pubic hair tickled her chin. Then down lower, she kissed along the side of his cock. Cupped his balls in one hand and coddled them with care. Cole watched her from above, and she let him, angling her head to the side so he could her mouth stretching to take him.

She pushed back on his foreskin with the ring of her lips, felt the hard but supple shape of his cock head push into her mouth. The smooth bullet shape glided over her pallet. She sucked him with love. Sucked him for pleasure, bobbing her head. Right now he was everything to her and she wanted him to know it. Sure, she’d been with Max again, and while it hadn’t been a mistake, it hadn’t been the greatest thing either. And she’d been with Keely, finally done what she’d wanted to do for so long, and that didn't end well. At least their friendship was intact. The moment when they laughed together at the Milton’s dining room table had been a wonderful. In Keely’s eyes, she saw their relationship restored. They didn’t have to be lovers, and it sounded stupid to even say it. But she had wanted it. Wanted it and then not wanted it; wanted it again, it was no good, left Keely for Max, then wanted her again. And dammit, she still wanted Keely, but only her. There was something about Keely that drew her.

But it wasn’t Keely she wanted right now, it was Cole. And he needed to know that. So she showed him, angling her face so he could see how much she loved his cock.

“Hey,” he said, “not like this.”

She brought her lips off him, flicked her hair away. “You don’t want to come?”

He didn’t answer, instead sat up, slipping his hands up her ribs and nestling them under her arms. He lifted her up to sit with him, the two of them upright on the couch now, making out again. He got over top of her, held her hands, pushed his fingers between hers. Then he was over top of her, her head back on the opposite arm of the couch, her legs folded underneath him.

While they kissed, Cole held her hands up above her head and worked the belly of his hardness against her pussy. Right over her pants; his hips working in slow circles, teasing her with just a hint of the fulfillment she desired. But there was no rush. She was home now and with her man; all that weirdness in Michigan was hundreds of miles away. She was in Cambridge, her home on Hilliard. Her lover soothed her aches and filled her heart with what she needed. Max was the past. She’d made her decision, and it was the right one.

She sucked his tongue. He let go her fingers and his strong hands stroked her forearms, then down her elbows and to her sides. He rose, his eyes connected to hers as he did. He undressed her; first pulling off her sailor-stripe Babaà jumper. The soft Spanish wool caressed her skin. Cole’s slow and deliberate undressing heightened the electric touch of the fabric.

Then he tugged off his own T-shirt and sweatshirt at the same time, and her hands went to the hard flat of his stomach. His skin was hot to the touch, and he didn’t rush; let her take her time to explore his body. They kissed again, not for long, Cole raising again and pulling off her cotton shirt. He had her sit higher, pulling her to his chest, and with one hand on her neck and his mouth on hers, he undid her bra. She kissed his chest, tongued a nipple, then lowered to the couch and covered her breasts with her hands, her hard nipples rubbing her palms.

Cole didn’t smile, but there was warmth in his eyes. When he moved to untie the knot on her bottoms, she raised her knees. He took a moment to massage four fingers over the fabric between her legs, putting pressure on the engorged mound of her hungry sex. His touch got her back arching, and she gasped. Now he smiled. Smiled at his effect on her. She smiled too, and bit her lower lip.

Knot untied, he tugged the cashmere joggers down her hips and she raised her legs so he could pull them off. He kissed the points of her knees, and her nipples throbbed against her palms.

They kissed some more, her hands over her breasts, his cock humping her, their union still prevented by her panties and his sweats. She was almost naked. Cole's skin felt incredible against hers, gliding over her like hot, dry silk. Every nerve end tingled with anticipation.

At last he rose again, and she knew they were close. Both of them smiled. Not too wide, because passion engulfed them.

Now his fingers touched her tummy and her open legs widened. He tugged at the panties, pulled them forward. The cooler air of their living room flooded her exposed sex and kissed against the hot and wet of her pussy. She was so wet right now for him. Cole removed her panties but wasn’t finished. She lay naked, legs straddling his hips, his sweats tugged low, bulky cock head poking out the fabric.

He touched fingers on the backs of her hands, peeled them away to reveal her bare breasts, guided her hands then above her head. His warm wet mouth suckled each nipple and she closed her eyes. Her back arched as the need for his entry doubled.

While he still sucked a nipple, his fingers worked out the satin strap of her watch, unbuckled the white gold clasp. He kissed her lips then rose again and set her watch on the table between their glasses of wine.

Now her nakedness was complete. Like a good and obedient girl, she kept her hands above her head as he dismounted her and stood at the side of the couch. her thighs stroked together as her need for sex got her knees clasping and grinding. Her pussy trickled in anticipation.

Cole pushed down his sweatpants and his cock bobbed between his legs, nodding left and right. His foreskin peeled, the plump head of his cock engorged to its fullest size, his magnificent erection lifted upright. It danced between his legs as he stepped away, and she watched his sexy ass work as he padded naked to the other side of the room. Her lover took his time selecting a record from their small collection of vinyl.

Now that Max was into vinyl, Cole had to follow. It kept the two boys together, so for that she would be happy. He set the record down on the vintage McIntosh turntable and the soft sound of diamond needle on vinyl hissed from the speakers. Junior Parker, an album he’d borrowed from Max.

She smiled and writhed for him as he returned to the couch, lean muscle rippling under his taut skin. Cole was so gorgeous at times like this, it overwhelmed her.

He lowered over her again and she spread her legs. His mouth closed on hers and she slipped her tongue into his mouth. The head of his cock prodded against her and slipped past her ring of wet flesh with ease. He entered her, and she groaned in his ear. He bit her neck and squeezed her wrists as her nipples rubbed on the muscle of his chest.

They found a rhythm, his cock stroking deep and full, the stretch magnificent, the drive of his hips meeting hers in elliptical osculation. Their combined wet made his girth heavenly in seconds, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as Junior Parker sang about waiting long for love so real.