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He pushed two fingers up inside her and slid his index finger into her anus, and still his tongue was on her clit. She came hard, her hips bucking under his hands. “Good girl,” he said. “That’s it. Good girl.”
Her moans died off to whimpers as he turned her around. “Can you come again?” He asked. “I want us to come together. I want to feel you clench on me as I’m finishing.”
Every time Mia made love to Blaine she got bolder. She panted as she bit his lip. “I can, but you’re going to have to work me like that again. Can you?” She smiled. “You seem pretty coordinated, but that’s adding a whole new element.
“I like a challenge,” said Blaine, returning her smile.
He slid into her from behind as she gripped the tree. As long as she braced herself, he was so large that he didn’t have to hold onto her hips. One hand reached around and rubbed her clit, while the other rubbed circles on her bottom. He thrust into her, deep and slow, and then faster. Harder. She couldn’t imagine how his hands could be so soft and his driving cock so hard. She spread her legs to give his fingers room. “I’m close,” she said. She hoped he knew what she wanted him to do next, because there was no way she could say it.
“I’m close too, Mia,” he said. “What do you need?”
Oh, no, she thought. I cannot, cannot say it.
“I can’t hold it much longer, baby,” he said. “You feel too good. Tell me—tell me what you want.”
“I can’t—I can’t say,” she gasped.
“You can’t? Oh—I know—” He laughed a bit, and to Mia’s surprise she found room to exhale one giggle herself.
“I can’t—” She said, and then she felt it. His thumb pressing between the cheeks of her bottom, and then inside her other portal. At the same time, he thrust hard and slid his fingers over her clit.
Mia came in an explosion. She screamed, and Blaine clapped a hand over her mouth. He pulled away from her and spent his own orgasm against her back.
Mia’s legs wouldn’t support her weight. She slumped in Blaine’s arms. He spun her around and kissed her cheeks and hair. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “I didn’t mean to do that—my hand on your mouth—but I was afraid someone would hear and call the police.”
She laughed into his chest. “Can you imagine?”
He laughed with her. “No—I was kidding about someone watching…what just happened was definitely for our eyes alone.”
He hugged her until she had to gasp for air. “Mia, Mia,” he said. “You got me all wrapped up.”
“I do?” she looked up at his handsome, smiling face.
He kissed her forehead. “I don’t walk foo-foo dogs for just any girl.”
*
The next week passed in a haze of happiness. Mia had never imagined a man like Blaine Daniels. He slowly opened up to her, and she found that he spoke fluent French and German and was an amateur violinist. They laughed and made love and argued over international affairs and made love and cooked meals together and made love some more. She overflowed with joy, like a towel that can’t absorb any more spilled milk. Her mother kept sending texts to make sure she was feeling okay after her break up with Jeff. She wanted to reply, “Jeff who?” but that might make Mama Maria ask questions. For some reason, Mia wasn’t quite ready to talk to her mom about Blaine.
She arrived at his condo on a Tuesday night with a package of fresh salmon and the means to whip up a mean salad. She’d gotten accustomed to finding Blaine in the kitchen whenever she arrived. When she found it empty, she peeked into the bedroom. “Blaine? Babe?”
“I’m out here,” he said.
She joined him on the condo’s wide porch. The July sun was still high in the sky. It felt good on her upturned face, but she had to close her eyes against the glare. “What are you up to out here? Besides sweating?”
He was staring at his phone. “I’m making plans.”
“I brought stuff to cook. Thought we were eating in tonight,” she said.
“No—I mean big plans.”
“I don’t get it.”
“When does school begin again?” He grinned up at her, and then looked back down at his phone, and then back at her again. Something in his excitement gave her pause.
“The end of August,” she said, “but I have to be back to prep my classroom mid-month. Why?”
Blaine looked about to jump out of his skin. He held up his phone. She read the text on the Internet browser. “Twenty-seventh Annual Commonwealth Cup.” She pointed at the fish on the webpage, some kind of marlin or swordfish. “A fishing tournament?”
