Page 44 of Taking A Chance

I press my tongue to the sensitive skin at her center, sucking her into my mouth. Gone are the soft tame moans that escaped her earlier, now replaced by something louder, more guttural. It does nothing to tame me, but rather spurs me on. I lick and suck, bite and blow. Her legs flex and shudder, her back arching as she presses herself harder into my mouth.

In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never imagined what she’d taste like. But, damn, if that wasn’t a mistake. She’s a ripe peach, a dark cherry pit. I hope she stains me.

Her hands reach for me, tugging at my hair, a silent plea for more. I pull her to me, lifting her ass from the couch and spreading her wider. I pull back from her only for a moment, only long enough to tell her what I want her to do. “Come for me.” I don’t ask it of her, I demand it. I need it from her.

I reach for her, cupping one of her tits in my hand, my mouth still working her over. She starts to shake beneath me but I don’t ease up, I don’t let her go. I want to feel her against me. She reaches for my hands, lacing her fingers with mine as she cries out and her body seizes.

My movements still, letting the wave of her orgasm wash over her before I ease her back down to the couch. I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth as I catch my breath. I still can’t peel my eyes from her. She coils up, pressing her legs together tightly. There’s no doubt she’s overwhelmed with sensation. Her ragged breathing begins to regulate.

“Fuck,” she manages on an exhale. “That was incredible.”

A smile grows on my face as I drop back on the arm of the couch. “Good.”

“Is it your turn now?” she asks, easing herself up from the couch.

“Huh?” I look up at her. Her hand trails over the tie at the top of my pants.

I sit up, pulling myself out of reach. Cora pulls her hand back, likely startled.

“No, trust me. I want to,” I say. “But we have plenty of time. And tonight was about you.”

“Wow,” she says. “That’s different.”

“Different?” I ask. “From?”

“Every man I’ve ever met, or heard about. Ever. In my whole life,” she says, laughing.

I return a laugh, nodding. “Right. Well, I’m not very manly, I guess.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she says.

“I know I’m odd,” I admit. “People don’t really understand me most of the time.”

“I don’t think you’re odd,” she offers. “Okay, you know what? To be fair, I used to think you were weird. And slutty. But now I have a different opinion.”

“Yeah, it only took like three years,” I say.

Cora laughs harder, reaching for her panties and sweatpants. “Do you want to finish the movie then?”

I nod, letting her dress. When she settles back onto the couch, this time she tucks herself close, under my arm.

There isn’t much of the movie left, but I’ll sit here with her and enjoy what’s left, despite the overwhelming urge I have to leave and paint. I can feel the itch to hold a brush in my palm. Something inside me is begging to make it to a canvas, though I don’t even know what it is.

This is rare for me these days. Most of the time, I have to make an effort to find a project that interests me. In fact, I can’t recall the last time I didn’t.

All I know is once the feeling takes hold of me, it will not be silenced. I have to purge it in paint.

When the credits start rolling, Cora sits up and stretches before standing. I stand and move toward the open space near the door.

“I should get going,” I offer. “You need to sleep.”

“And you don’t?” she asks.

“I have the luxury of sleeping in. An artist’s life.” I laugh. “Long nights, late mornings.”

Cora nods. “Well, I’m jealous.” She comes to stand right in front of me, her arms wrapped around herself.

I lean in to kiss her on the cheek, but she takes my mouth instead, her hands suddenly around my neck. I reach for her, gripping her sides like before, pressing her body to mine.

---