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“No no. That’s okay.” I say, not sure if it’s okay for me to say yes to laying on his dead wife’s massage table.
“Come on,” he continues, turning around and grabbing some oil off of the shelf behind him, “you just got back from a jog. You’ve been working crazy hard between work and cheerleading. Let me give you a massage.” I hesitate before slipping my sneakers off and pulling my tank over my head and dropping it to the floor, leaving me in nothing but a sports bra and tiny athletic shorts.
“Fine,” I say, climbing up onto the table and settling onto my stomach, “but you owe me.” I joke and he snickers, squeezing the oil onto my back and spreading it around with his hands before going to work on my back, kneading the knots between my shoulders and working his way down to my lower back.
“Oh my god,” I mumble, “this feels amazing.” Ford chuckles.
“Of course it does. I’m amazing.” He goes on, grazing his hands over my ass before tugging my shorts down. I lift my hips to assist him in his journey. Who am I to say no? They whisper to the floor and his hands are back on me. Working his way down my thighs, alternating between massaging and featherlight touches. He massages his way down my calf and then switches legs, working his way from my calf to my thigh on that leg before taking both of my cheeks in his hands and massaging them. I whimper, all the senses in my body on high alert. The bass of the music pulsing in the background, my breathing, his breathing. The feel of his hands on my body.
He drags his hand to the inside of my thigh before running his finger up the seam of my pussy over my panties and I tilt my hips back towards him. He takes the opportunity to snag my panties and drag them down my legs.
“On your knees,” he commands, dipping one finger into my heat. I follow his instructions, greedy for his touch. I leave my face pressed against the table and lift up onto my knees, spreading my legs open for him. He wastes no time dipping his fingers inside me. He uses his other hand, sliding it up my belly, and capturing my nipple between his fingers and rolling it. Those two things happening simultaneously have me rolling my hips. He chuckles.
“You like that?” he gruffs out, applying pressure to my clit as he works his fingers inside me. I whimper because it feels so fucking good and because I want him inside me. Now. Fast. I hear the rustle of fabric as he slides his gym shorts down.
“Sit up,” he commands, and I’m barely on my ass before he grips my hips and yanks me forward, thrusting inside me. I cry out.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he eases back, “did I hurt you?” I shake my head.
“No, no. It feels so good. Again,” I whisper, gripping his shoulders and rocking my hips against him. He takes over like he always does, thrusting inside me, the table scraping along the floor with the motion. I’m so close already. Every time with Ford is better than the last.
“So close, so close,” I chant and he presses his thumb to my clit and my orgasm crashes through me. I cling to his neck for support as he throws my leg over his shoulder and pounds into me, relentlessly, chasing his release. Leaning back so I can watch his face as he fucks me, I take in his features. The veins popping out in his neck as he slams into me, the way his eyes darken with desire as he watches me watch him. He swoops in for a searing kiss as he empties himself inside of me.
Clutching each other, we take a minute to catch our breath and I settle my face into the crook of his neck and breathe his scent in, raking my nails up and down his back under his shirt. He eases back, slowly sliding out of me and cleaning himself off with a rag from the table and then doing the same to me.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, concern lacing his face. I shake my head no.
“Not at all. It was incredible,” I insist, suddenly feeling super weird that we just had sex on his dead wife’s massage table. After re-dressing and slipping my sneakers back on, he snags me by the hand and guides me upstairs and to the living room, sitting us both down on the couch. He nervously clears his throat, running his hand through his hair.
“What’s up?” I ask, hesitantly. Suddenly anxious about what it is that’s making him so nervous. Is he breaking up with me? Was that goodbye sex?
“So,” he starts, “I went to the cemetery today. Switched Zoe’s flowers with fresh ones.”
“Ohh kay… and?” I ask, knowing there’s more to the story. He proceeds to tell me about what he went there for, and a butterfly he saw. By the time he’s finished the story, I’m in utter disbelief.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. He arches an eyebrow.
“Holy shit, indeed.”
I laugh at his remark. “You really think it was a sign? That it was somehow her approval?” I ask.
“I do,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine and tugging me closer. “I really, really do.” He presses a kiss to my lips. I can only hope he’s right, that Zoe would be okay with everything that transpired in such a short time. I don’t ever want to replace her, but I’m starting to fall in love with this man and his kids
Ford
Lex asks if I'll tell her what Zoe was like while we are tangled up in bed. The kids are still with my mom and we’ve spent the entire afternoon making love and being laz
y and now we’re lying in bed. She props her head up on her hand and brushes her hair off her shoulder, a small smile gracing her lips. I’m a little surprised she’s asking.
“Sure. What is it you want to know?” I ask, lacing our fingers together, bringing her hand up to my lips.
“Anything,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, “everything. I want to know whatever it is you want to tell me. I don’t want you to ever think that you can’t mention her or bring her up in conversation with me. I know how important she was to you.” She rests her head on my chest and begins toying with my shirt. I run my fingers through her soft hair.
“She was the soft to my rough edges,” I start. It’s been a long time since I really thought about our relationship and everything it was and wasn’t. “She lit up any room she walked into. We met in junior high. We were both in seventh grade, I was captain of the football team and she was the head cheerleader,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Such a cliché. But, I saw her on the field one day during a game and I just knew. I told Zander that night that I was gonna marry that girl.”
“And what did he say?” she asks. I laugh again. “He told me I was crazy and I should never settle down with just one girl.” Lex laughs at that.
“Sounds just like him,” she says.
