Page 42 of The River in Spring
My body is tingling with some weird response to the words. I don’t know what that means, but I think it’s positive. Otherwise, I’m having a stroke.
“Here’s the thing, Nobel. I’m at the place in my career that it’s either going to happen for me or it isn’t. We don’t have an infinite amount of time to be discovered. Babies don’t factor into my life right now. I have time, reproductive wise. What are your thoughts? Do you think you want to be a father?”
“Yeah. I think I do.”
As the words leave his lips a faint image appears. Nobel is sitting on the big boulder a few feet away. His back is to me. A laughing toddler sits on his lap. Sitting next to Nobel is a woman with shoulder length dark hair, wearing a blanket around her shoulders and a hat. She has a hand on the child’s head. What? It dissolves before I have a chance to see more, and my heart begins to beat faster.
“Yoo who?” he says, calling me back.
“Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“This fish is delicious. I did an excellent job if I don’t say so myself. And here’s to weak tree branches,” he says, lifting his mimosa.
“To weak tree branches and the man who fell for me,” I add.
I push the image aside. It doesn’t mean anything. She could be a friend. Or a cousin maybe. It could happen. Shit. But I know without doubt that she was feeling love for the child and the man. I could sense it. It seemed to be the most important piece of the puzzle. There is no denying that. No. That was not a glimpse of the future. It’s just my paranoia of losing him.
We get to the feast by the river. He is the best company I have ever had. Smart and funny. Romantic. Expressive. There is this sense that I am the only woman who he has opened up to. This is my man. Not the woman with the dark hair. I refuse to bow to the image. We have free will and I will use mine to make our love a lasting reality. I’m getting riled up with the thought of another woman loving him.
He stretches out on the pillow, as I move the dishes off the quilt then join him. A hand comes up to my face and moves a long curl back. His eyes tell a story I want to hear.
“Let’s just kiss till we’re naked.”
“Great idea,” I say, taking the first one.
Kissing is grossly underrated by everyone who is not a good kisser. Nobel doesn’t fall into that category. He takes his time with each one, until we can feel the passion build. He changes it up, which is one of the secrets. It’s soft and deep, then my neck gets the attention. Once in a great while he catches my bottom lip between his teeth. Yes. His tongue is an erotic tool, taking its pleasure and giving it in kind. And how he holds my head in his palms. I love that.
Under the summer sun, we start taking our clothes off. Correction. He starts taking my clothes off first. I feel alive. Shorts unzipped and my T-shirt lifted over my head. I bought a new bra and panties for his birthday fuck. Well, for the first one of the day, anyway.
“Love this,” he says, unhooking the see through lavender bra with lace at the edges. “Let’s get rid of it.”
It goes flying to the ground. He turns me on my back and gets on his knees, stripping off his T-shirt and tossing it aside. He unzips, stands and peels off his jeans. The impressive cock pops up ready for the job ahead. No boxer briefs. He is free-balling it. That just made me wet.
He bends over and peels off my shorts, revealing the matching see through panties. There is a moment where he just looks at my half-naked body. Sunlight highlights the dark tones of his hair and the muscles of his arms and legs. The V leading to his cock is by far the most sensual part of his body. Is he going to remove my last remaining piece of clothing? But he leaves them on. Oh!
Kneeling between my legs his head dips to the honeypot. I feel his tongue trace the length of my lips. Oh. The fabric of my panties is a little stiff and that works beautifully. It’s the right amount of rough over my clit, which is at attention. His teeth grab the panties’ edge and pulls it to the side. One hand holds it back as he eats me till I’m moaning.
“Oh my God.”
He takes the sides and pulls them down and off. They must be on the ground too, but I’m too excited to bother looking. Nobel resumes the loving. The worship at the altar of my pussy. The climb. Here it comes. Here I come. Here. Here!
“Ohhhh, yes! Yes!”
I start to come. Oh shit! This is going to be great! I can tell whenever the buildup takes this long from the beginning of the orgasm to the first moment of the release. Yes! He licks the juices flowing from my pussy and it takes me to another world. Maybe it is the river or the sun or the fact his mouth and my clit are best friends. It’s everything.
I grab ahold of his head. “Stop. Stop. Oh my God!”
His smiling face lifts to mine. There is a thin glisten of my cum all around his mouth. “You really came a lot! That’s fucking sexy as hell.”
I study his fabulous face while catching my breath. “Now givemea taste.”
He laughs and rolls to his back. His legs spread wide as I move between them. My hands sweep the skin between his thighs, knees to crotch.
“This is definitely my favorite birthday. Let’s do it every year.”
Taking his cock in my hands is agreement. I gently kiss the tip then circle the head lightly and slowly with my tongue. I flick the tip and send a charge to his balls.
“Oh,” the word escapes in one exhale. His body lifts, shoving his dick to my mouth. I take the unsubtle hint and wrap my lips around the head, licking the hole. Then I start the hand roll, moving up and down with a light but firm grasp. My special move is to squeeze just a little on the backstroke. As I do it, Nobel reacts as expected. It makes him crazy, and he let me know the first time we fucked.
