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“Just doesn’t seem very private out here.”
“Our nearest neighbor is like half a mile down the road.” Despite Michael’s hesitation, he stepped onto the porch and fished the key from his pocket. Opening the door, he exposed the small living room with a few empty beer bottles and some newspaper. His brother wasn’t the best housekeeper, but he wasn’t going to apologize to her. He didn’t owe her anything.
Closing the door behind them, he sat on the armrest of the couch and folded his arms over his chest. “So?”
Marilyn looked around the room. “Where’s your brother?”
“Work. What is it, Marilyn?”
“I’m so sorry we lost touch. I had my reasons.” She stood close to him, and he took in her scent – fresh and floral, her long hair wavy and flowy against her, brushing against her breasts – her shirt hugged her curves perfectly and he wondered if she purposely wore tight jeans to get his attention.
Reaching out, he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her plump lips, firm with a fruity-scented gloss. She didn’t duck away. She leaned into his palm and closed her eyes.
“Mikey…” she whispered, her breath warm on his hand.
Dipping his head, his lips brushed against hers and he took in her flavor. His hand moved to the back of her head, and he pulled her closer, feeling her chest push into his, her mouth opening wider, inviting him to plant a deeper kiss. He obliged and his tongue slipped inside her mouth. A small moan escaped her throat, and the sound made his arousal grow in his jeans.
Pulling away, he rested his forehead on hers, looking down to see her cleavage and her breasts moving up and down, inviting him to touch, her nipples perky and hard against the fabric, only he stopped himself. She wasn’t his. The kiss had gone too far.
“Marilyn…” he whispered, and she reached down, groping him against his pants. Her touch was electrifying, and he worried her hand alone would make him finish.
“I remember how big you are. I’ve missed it. Longed for it. Ached for it.” She unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, slipping her hand inside, holding him rock hard in her hand, her soft palm making him grit his teeth and close his eyes.
Just as he had worried, he got lost in her touch, and his hand cupped her breast, kneading it between his fingers as her hand moved up and down his erection. Closing his eyes, he shivered when her lips moved down his neck, and when he opened them again, she was on her knees, freeing him from his boxers, stroking him close to her mouth.
It had been so long – he was already on the verge of finishing when she slid her mouth over the tip, gently sucking, making him harder. He held his hand on the back of her head, resisting the urge to thrust his hips forward and make her take every inch down her throat. He had received blow jobs from the female correctional officers, but now it wasn’t rushed, and they didn’t have to be quiet.
As if she were reading his mind, she took him deeper, gagging as she held him and moved her mouth up and down – the warmth was invigorating, and he pulled away so he wouldn’t finish.
“Stop…” he whispered. “I’m about to come.”
Standing, she kept her hand on him and smiled. “Gotta get your stamina built back up. I can help with that.”
Michael knew he needed to stop. He was livid at her. He had been mad for four years. But she stood in front of him, looking so good, he allowed his desires to overtake what was right. Pushing her back onto the couch, he slid her shirt over her head and immediately unclasped her bra, exposing her ample breasts, two pink nipples aroused and ready for him.
Dipping his head, he nipped at them, trailing his hand between her legs, rubbing her against her pants, her warmth hot against the denim. She spread her legs and allowed him access and he slid her jeans down her thighs, rubbing her intimate area, leaving her panties on, the moist fabric wet against his fingers.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said as he kissed her stomach and down to her thighs, taking her scent in. “I should tell you to leave.” He lapped at her, his tongue catching on the fabric of her panties. She was wet and ready for him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said between pants.
Pulling her panties down, he flicked his tongue against her clit and her back arched. Continuing it three more times, he loved tormenting her. “What do you want me to do to you?”
Lifting her head off the couch, her eyes fell to his. “Fuck me.”
Memories of years before flooded his memory. They would disappear from the world for days, getting high, having sex, getting high again, and losing all concept of time. Just being between her legs made him crave the drugs – a pull of whiskey, a bump of cocaine. A toke of meth right out of the pipe. And then screw like bunnies, reaching the peak of their high as they both came.
“Fuck me, Mikey. What are you waiting for?”
Backing away, he stood up and stared down at her naked body sprawled out on the couch. She reached her hand between her legs and played with herself, rubbing right where his tongue had been. “Are you teasing me? Making me beg for it?”
He thought about all the trouble they got into. Stealing just to get money to score their next fix. Then a quick screw. Then a high. Then going out and getting into more trouble just to come home and have more sex while they were so high, that they didn’t know what real life was and what was pretend. It was fun back then, but now standing before her, sober with life experience and prison time, it didn’t appeal to him.
His erection throbbed and he wanted the sexual release. And there Marilyn was, legs spread, ready for him. He toyed with good versus bad. The good choice would be to send her on her way and have the worst case of blue balls. The bad choice would be to give her what she wanted. To have sex with her despite his anger toward her. Sometimes anger helped with having the best sex ever. But no matter what, none of this would be making love. He didn’t love her. He had spent years hating her. It was lust and sexual frustration from years of being locked up.
His body wanted it. His heart said no. He was a man of impulse, which is what had gotten him in so much trouble all his life. Just this once. He’d appease his desires and be done with her.
“Mikey…” she continued to masturbate, looking up at him. “Help me finish.”
