My friend Lara wasn’t good with money. She taught English Literature and Language Art at the public middle school in our little Mid-Western town, the same middle school where we met and became besties.
The day Pete, her soon-to-be-ex-husband, and Lara put the deposit on their first house, one month before the wedding, Lara begged him to never ask her to take care of the money, “Please Pete, I can go grocery shopping, take care of the cleaning, cooking, children’s homework, but not the money. I don’t want to know a thing about it. You take care of it, of our pension fund, college fund, tax return, I’ll do the rest. OK?” Pete was so madly in love, that he accepted.
They got married the day after their graduation and Lara was already four months pregnant.
When Lara gave birth to Ryan, she had a problem, and to save her life, the doctor had to remove her uterus. It was a shock for Lara at first, but then she accepted her fate and was glad to have at least one child. Pete, instead, became angry and blamed Lara for his fate. He wanted more children, he always wanted a home full of kids.
When Ryan was four, Lara and Pete bought the house beside mine.
While helping Lara with the moving, I found a box full of notebooks, “What are these?” I asked.
“Oh, pfft,” Lara said, making a dismissive gesture with her hand, “When I was in college I thought I could be a writer one day. Throw them away please,” Lara said, resuming what she was doing.
I was surprised, “You never told me about that.”
“We were both in college,” Lara explained, “And dealing with the difficulties of being apart and far from home. I needed something to help me to process and to keep my mind busy. It was a stress reliever, that’s all.”
I looked at her and then, pretending to throw them away, I sneaked the box into my garage. When I was home that night, I began reading the notebooks. She was a great writer, I couldn’t stop reading.
It took me almost every night of that summer to transcribe the stories to my laptop. Being a stenographer and typist at the courthouse helped.
When I showed Lara what I did, I tried to convince her how good she was and that she needed an editor. We found the editor and sent her one of the stories. We didn’t tell Pete about it, it was just for good luck at the beginning, then, seeing Pete’s behavior, Lara decided to keep the secret between us.
The editor asked to see Lara and she asked me to go with her.
“This story is great,” Mrs. Harper, the editor, announced at the moment we sat in her office. “I hope you have more somewhere.”
“Yes, I have more,” Lara said, her smile as big as the sky above us, “How does it work now?”
“Well,” Mrs. Harper said, crossing her hands on top of her desk, “First you have to decide if you want to use a pen name, then you have to read the contract and, hopefully, accept it, then give me a bank account where we can put the deposit. I suggest you check the contract with a lawyer who can help you to understand the technicalities. If you don’t have one, here is a list,” she said, giving Lara a manila folder containing a list of names and the contract.
“Sounds good,” Lara said, standing up, “I will give you a call when I’ll be ready with the contract.”
“Pete doesn’t need to know about this,” Lara said when we left Mrs. Harper’s office.
“I wasn’t planning on saying a thing,” I reassured her.
Lara contacted a lawyer, a woman, Dr. Helena Dawson who asked to also check Lara’s assets and then she summoned Lara, and me because Lara wanted me there too.
“Ms. Johnson, am I free to speak with your friend here?” the lawyer asked.
“Sure, I have no secret for Liza,” Lara said. By the way, Liza is my name, the narrator.
“I found something that is worrying me,” the lawyer said, “Does your husband know anything about your book and that you gave me access to your assets?”
“No. Not yet at least, why?” Lara looked puzzled, we both were.
“I found a periodic movement of $500.00 to an offshore bank account that went back at least four years. Do you know anything about that?” the lawyer asked.
“What? No, I have no idea,” Lara said, tapping her temples.
“That lousy, sneaky bastard,” I groaned, “That doesn’t surprise me. Four years, he started after Ryan’s birth.”
Lara was dejected and pissed. The lawyer suggested opening another bank account, an online one that won’t send any mail home, then suggested that Lara change all her passwords, and keep everything concerning the book contract someplace safe. She chose my safe, and I was ok with that.
Less than a year later, when Lara’s book hit the bookstores and was about to become a bestseller, Pete declared bankruptcy one night during dinner. He said he made poor investments and lost everything. He also cried in front of her, apologizing. The bastard.
“Really?” Lara said. She stood up, went to her office, and got back moments later with an envelope.
“What’s this?” Pete asked, astonished.
“Divorce paper. Of course, I have nothing to give you and I can’t ask you for alimony. We are even. Sign the paper, now, and get out of this house before the night’s news,” she said, coldly.
“What? Lara, you can’t do this. Where do I go? I have no money,” he begged.
“Three things,” she said, placing her face two inches from his, “First, you can go to your assistant’s house, yes, I know you two have an affair. Second, you have the money you put in the offshore bank. Yes, I know about that too because I’m not as stupid as you thought. Third, yes Pete, I can do this. This house is in my name. If you want, I will give you the car. I don’t care. You are a deceitful, dishonest, sneaky, lousy excuse of a man. Now GET OUT!” she screamed the last two words pointing at the door.
He signed the paper and left in less than an hour.
That night Lara called me crying. I went to her house, and we got drunk eating ice cream.
Lara reported Pete to the IRS at the suggestion of her lawyer and he was sentenced to fifteen years of jail.
Lara raised her son all by herself. I helped her when I could, I was always at her side, literally and figuratively.
She quit teaching to dedicate her energy to her writing, but she helped to tutor students in need of extra help.
Ryan, since the very first day of school, was a great straight-A student. School was easy for him and he was always surrounded by friends. That’s why the day Lara got a call from the Dean summoning her to his office, she was surprised.
“Ms. Johnson,” Mr. Black said.
“Hillsong, Ms. Hillsong. I’m not using Ryan’s father’s name,” she explained.
“Yes. Right. Ms. Hillsong,” Mr. Black began to explain, “Ryan had a verbal fight with another student. The reason was admirable because he defended a girl who was bullied by a group of students. Nothing really happened, just an exchange of bad words, but Ryan had a breakdown immediately after and he asked to see you. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“Where is he?” Lara immediately asked, standing up, worried for her son.
The dean took her to the infirmary. There, on the stretcher, in the fetal position, was Ryan. He was a tall boy, with broad shoulders, and a strong jawline. But what Lara saw at that moment, was a little boy, scared, and in need.
“Please,” Lara said addressing the dean and the nurse, “Leave us alone.”
She lay on the stretcher beside her son and hugged him like when he was little, without asking questions or talking, just offering him the physical support he needed. She knew he would talk if and when he was ready. After about half an hour, he started to calm down and asked to go home. Later that day Ryan explained that he had a flashback of his father harassing Lara. He didn’t know if it was just a fantasy, but that scared him because he didn’t want to become like his father.
“Honey,” Lara said, “You’re nothing like your father. I taught you better, and the fact that you protected a girl in that situation is a clear demonstration of that. I never wanted to say ill of your father because he’s your father, but if you’d like, when you’ll be ready, I can tell you what happened. I’m sorry you had to witness some of the worst moments of our life together. I was hoping you wouldn’t remember those, but apparently, I was wrong. Now go get some rest while I make you a nice dinner. OK?”
That night Lara got a call from the dean, Mr. Black, asking for updates.
“He’s feeling better,” Lara said, “I don’t know if he feels like going back to school tomorrow. Can I call you in the morning?”
“Please do,” Mr. Black said, “And if you or Ryan need to talk, we have all the support you might need.”
Mr. Black, Christopher, was a thirty-nine-year-old bachelor. Not that he was opposed to marriage, but he never found the right woman; he probably was too demanding. He met several women. First, there were his college mates, then single mothers of students who hit on him, or friends of friends, but after the initial small talk, followed by some good, steamy sex, whenever he tried to engage in an in-depth conversation, he got silence on the other side. He never stopped trying though, if only for the good sex part.
Ms. Hillsong, Lara, was an interesting woman, smart for sure. He knew she used to be a teacher and volunteered tutoring students. He knew she was divorced and never remarried. Physically she was stunning, with big breasts and large hips, interrupted by a narrow waist, and she always wore clothes to emphasize her shapes. All her sexy curves were glorified by her full ginger hair and green eyes, with freckles on her nose.
Christopher didn’t have many occasions to meet Lara because Ryan was a top student, but Lara attended most of the school events. Those were the times when he could feast his eyes. The few times they engaged in conversations, he could also ascertain her smartness. Now he finally had the excuse to call her. That was his chance to get to know her better.
That night Lara called me asking to stop by. After a glass of wine, she told me what happened and her worries. We talk for long hours. It was almost two in the morning when I said I was going home, but before leaving I said, “Lara, be sure to call Mr. Black tomorrow and ask to see him, but not at school, somewhere else.”
“What? Why?” she asked, puzzled.
“Because you need a man and because he’s a hunk,” I said, hugging her, and leaving before she had the chance to kick my butt.
Lara was a prideful woman, but our friendship was pure and honest, so when I said those things to her, she knew it was the truth. Lara called Christopher the following morning, “Mr. Black, it’s Ms. Hillsong here, Ryan’s mother.”
“Please, call me Christopher,” he suggested.
“Oh. Ok. Well, I’m Lara. Christopher, Ryan is still sleeping, and I don’t want to wake him up. Is it a problem? I don’t think he has any deadline today.”
“I checked with his teachers just in case and they all said he can skip the day. Can we talk later for an update?” Christopher asked.
“Yes, sure,” Lara said, then looking for a way to see him again, she said, “Can I stop by your office later?”
“Absolutely.”
Before immersing herself in the writing, Lara went into Ryan’s room to check on him.
She interrupted her writing session to have lunch with Ryan, who was feeling much better.
At about four, Lara knocked at Christopher’s office door, “Came on in,” his warm voice said from the other side of the door.
Lara entered and closed the door behind her. She was just sitting in front of him when a knock at the door made her turn. It was the janitor, “Mr. Black, if you’re done for the day, I can clean here.”
Christopher looked at Lara, apologizing, then said, “Why don’t we grab a cup of coffee somewhere and talk?”
They bought a coffee to go, then went for a walk at the Veteran’s Park, behind the school.
Lara talked about her divorce, and Christopher talked about his lack of a wife to divorce.
Lara laughed and said, “If it’s a divorce you’re looking for, I’m sure you can find plenty of women.”
“To be honest, my problem is the opposite,” Christopher explained, “I come from two parents who lived together for forty-eight years and are still in love. I want that for me, a woman who doesn’t bore me, who keeps me interested, and that can always be interested in me. See, my parents still talk. They talk about politics around the world, they talk about the last book they read, or a personality that keeps the gossip at the moment. And they always sing together or recite a poem.”
They stopped by a little river and, leaning on a fence facing Lara, Christopher continued, “I know I’m a dreamer, and probably after them, they tossed the mold, but I want that for me, or nothing. I won’t be forty forever, there will be one day when the sex won’t be working anymore, and I need a partner by my side. I’m sorry, I’m a boring man.”
“Oh no. Please,” Lara said, “My parents are like yours. Though they don’t like the same movies or the same books, they compare their books or movies. They talk and above all, they joke a lot. My brother and I always teased them saying they’re entertaining like the characters of a sitcom. So, believe me, I feel what you’re looking for.”
They talked some more about funny episodes of their lives, when Lara got a text, “It’s Ryan, he’s asking what I want for dinner. I should go,” she said, looking straight into Christopher’s dark eyes. She liked his company and was hoping for an excuse to hang out with him again. Or should she take the chance and propose it? “Can we hang out again another day?” she dared to say.
“You took the words out of my mouth,” Christopher said, chuckling, “Yes, I’d love to. Am I rushing too much if I invite you to dinner one of these nights?”
Lara blushed. She received other invitations in the past, but she always declined. None of the men who invited her ever really caught her interest. But Christopher was different, he was interesting, and she wanted to see where this could go.
“Maybe you are rushing a little, but I’m inclined to accept,” she boldly answered.
They agreed for a date the following Friday night. Meanwhile, Lara and Ryan had the chance to talk about what happened the day before and why, and Lara explained what really happened between Ryan’s father and her, and how they began to grow apart when she had the hysterectomy that prevented her from having more children. Then she told him why his father was in jail.
“Mom, you’ve been brave. I’m proud of you,” Ryan said, hugging his mother.
“Honey, I don’t want you to hate him,” Lara rushed to say, with tears in her eyes, “I think you are now old enough to understand the truth and to have your own opinions.”
The day after, Ryan went back to school and all the teachers and friends complimented him for his bravery. The girl who was bullied, Janette, approached Ryan during recess and asked him to hang out after school to thank him properly.
Janette and Ryan hung out together that afternoon and the day after and the one after that. In short, they became a couple and still are now that they are in college.
But that wasn’t the story I wanted to tell you.
Friday arrived and, after my insistence, Lara opted for her blue dress that fitted on her like a second skin-enhancing her curves, silver sandals, and a silver pochette to complete the outfit. She was sexy as hell. When she described Christopher’s face when he opened the door, she just said he didn’t say a word for several seconds. I bet he was trying not to choke and to find an excuse to skip dinner and go to bed right away.
“Wow!” he said, admiring her body, “You look amazing.”
He wore gray pants that fit slim, enhancing his firm butt, a white button-down shirt with a blue cardigan on top.
“You look handsome yourself,” Lara said, imagining him naked.
Lara had a weakness for a round, firm butt, supported by long, straight legs. And Christopher had both, and more. He had the body of a runner. On his oval face, he had full lips, dark bright eyes, and dark brown hair.
I wanted to be a fly and see the face of the restaurant’s patrons when Lara passed by the tables. Probably Christopher had a hard time keeping his cock at bay.
The dinner was a real pleasure. At the end of the night, Christopher walked Lara to her door, “I had a very nice time tonight. Can we do it again?”
“Absolutely,” Lara said, “I had a very nice time, too. I was going to invite you in for a coffee.”
“Lara,” Christopher said, stepping closer to her and holding her hands, “I’d love to, but I can’t. If I walk through that door, I’m not sure I can control myself, and you have a son. I don’t want to embarrass myself. Besides, I want Ryan to like me, not to hate me. I better go home, take a cold shower, and call it a night. Can I call you tomorrow?”
Lara blushed at that declaration and giggled, “Of course, you can call me anytime,” she said.
“Even without a reason besides to hear your sexy voice?” Christopher asked with a mischievous smile.
Lara giggled and her giggling got interrupted by a kiss, a very soft kiss on her lips. She purred and melted in that kiss.
Christopher broke the kiss and sighing, whispered, “I better go.”
That woman was a walking temptation, and during his drive back home, Christopher realized that, as well as Lara was sexy and beautiful, she also was intelligent, and talking with her was never boring. They engaged in conversations about different topics and she never yawned. Christopher found himself laughing at that thought. He was happy, deep inside, like a teenager at his first crash. But Christopher wasn’t a teenager anymore, he wanted something more than a crash.
Lara stopped by Ryan’s bedroom, “I’m home,” she said, knocking at his door. Generally, he answered just with a ‘good night mom’, but this time he opened the door, and asked, “How did it go?”
Surprised by his attention, she said, “Very well, very very well.”
“Oh mom, you have stars in your eyes. Are you in love?” Ryan asked, smiling.
“I think it’s too early to call it love, but-” Lara thought for an instant, then continued, “He’s a very interesting guy and it could become something more. Does it bother you?”
“Are you kidding? Mom, he’s a good guy and you deserve to be happy,” Ryan said.
Lara hugged her son saying, “What would I do without you? Now I’m going to bed to finish my romance. Good night son.”
“‘Night mom.”
She stepped out of her clothes and heard the sound of an incoming text. It was Christopher, “Is it inappropriate to invite you and Ryan to a picnic by the lake Sunday? (Please, say it’s ok!)”
Lara went to Ryan’s room to ask him if he wanted to go and he said yes, so she texted back, “Not inappropriate at all. We accept.”
“You’re awake. Can I call you?” Christopher texted.
“Give me five minutes,” she replied, rushing to the bathroom to brush her teeth and remove the makeup. She finished undressing and pulled on her shirt she used as a nightgown. At the moment she slipped under her sheets, the phone rang. Oh, that was exciting. When was the last time she was so excited?
When Lara answered the phone she said, “Were you timing me?”
Christopher chuckled and said, “Yes. Are you in bed?”
“Yes. You?”
“Me too, but not in the same bed you are, unfortunately. What are you wearing?”
“A long t-shirt.”
Christopher imagined Lara in just a long T-shirt that was probably riding up her legs. “Mmm. That’s it?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“No underwear?”
She didn’t answer promptly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to drive this conversation in that direction, or if she could be honest with herself and admit that that was exactly where she wanted their conversation to go.
“I’m sorry. Too perky?” Christopher apologized.
“No. It’s not that. I wasn’t ready, that’s all. I like not wearing panties, I like to feel the contact with my skin and the fabric of my clothes. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Oh, you explained it perfectly. You know, I’m a bachelor and when I’m home, I like to get rid of constraints. Yes, I like to be in the nude.”
“I’d love that, but I can’t do that with my son around. Maybe when he’ll be out in college.”
“Not many women are so comfortable in their body to be in the nude.”
“Well, I don’t have a perfect body and I’m well aware of that. I should lose a few pounds, but I like eating.”
They both chuckled.
“Listen, Lara,” Christopher said, “I really like you. Not only because you are beautiful, and your body is perfect as it is, but I like talking to you. I held your hands for a moment tonight, and I kissed you. I really liked it. I want to spend more time with you. I don’t know how to label this, but I’m happy with you. I’m happy even talking on the phone with you right now, so much that I don’t want to say good night. I don’t know how we can make it work, but I’d like, sooner than later, to make love with you and touch more than your hands. What do you think?”
“I see you go straight to the point,” she giggled nervously, “Yes, I want to spend more time with you, and I’d like some contact. In the end, yes, I’d like to make love with you. But… I have to tell you something about me.”
“That sounds serious. What is it?”
Lara took her time before saying, “One of the reasons why my marriage drifted, was because I never-” she cleared her throat, then continued, “I never had an orgasm. I’m not frigid, I just can’t cum.”
“I understand. And are you sure the problem is yours? I mean, you can’t cum, or he couldn’t make you cum?”
“Oh well, I don’t know. I thought…”
“Lara, one step at a time. Let’s begin with dating and we’ll see, ok? Now, we better go to sleep before this becomes a booty call.”
The following Sunday they had the picnic as planned and they had fun. Ryan had the chance to engage with Christopher in an environment that wasn’t the school, and he concluded Christopher was a nice guy who cared for his mother.
Christopher and Lara began dating regularly.
One day Lara got a call from Steve’s mother, one of Ryan’s best friends, “Lara, hi, it’s Jaqueline. Listen, this summer we are renting a little house on the beach in North Carolina, and with Steve and my husband we were thinking, if it’s ok we’d love to have Ryan over. Of course, if you want to join us, you’re more than welcome.”
“That’s so nice of you, but I think my son would like to be away from me for some time. Thank you though.”
The school finished and the following Monday Ryan left with Steve’s family.
“I don’t want to sound too eager,” Christopher said, talking on the phone with Lara that same day, “But we are now alone, and I want to see you naked, and worship your body.”
Lara laughed nervously, then said, “Yes, I agree it’s time for us to see each other’s bodies and, to be honest, I can’t wait.”
Lara prepared some dinner. She had to do something to keep her busy or she’d go crazy. She couldn’t write, she was too distracted. Mimicking one of the characters in her stories, she shaved and finished off her red triangle, and took a long relaxing bath. She was in front of her closet deciding what to wear, casual, sexy, or just comfortable house clothes? At that moment the doorbell rang.
“Christopher? I wasn’t expecting you so early,” she said, opening the door wearing only her robe, finding Christopher leaning on the door jamb, with his mischievous smile.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait to see you. And apparently, I arrived at the right time,” he said, scanning her body wrapped in the robe, obviously naked underneath.
“I was looking for something comfortable to wear,” she said, nervously.
“No need. What you have now, it’s perfect,” he said, closing the door behind him and getting closer to Lara. “Actually,” he whispered in a husky voice, “It’s even too much,” kissing her neck and inhaling the scent of her soap.
She hugged him, closing her eyes, enjoying his warm lips on her cool skin.
He pulled the robe off her shoulders and began kissing her there. He pushed the robe down her arms, leaving her completely naked.
“Mmm, this is what I like the most, your skin, your body naked for me,” Christopher whispered.
With her hands shaking, Lara unbuttoned Christopher’s shirt and she admired his sculpted chest, kissing him there, inhaling his musky scent.
Bare-chested and wearing jeans, Christopher asked, “Bedroom?”
Lara took his hand in hers and headed to the bedroom leaving her robe and his shirt on the floor. He glanced at her waving butt, “Mmm, nice view!”
“Hey, what are you looking at?” Lara asked, pretending to be scandalized.
“No, seriously, your naked butt is quite a view.” When they entered the bedroom, Christopher gently pushed Lara onto the bed, face down.
“What are you doing?” Lara asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.
Christopher simply shushed her and knelt between her legs, opening them wider. With his hands stroking her cheeks, he bent down and left a series of love bites on those cheeks, starting from the outside, moving to the inside, reaching the crack. Christopher was literally worshiping her butt. He was in heaven, “Darling, I was dreaming for this moment since the first time I saw you at the open house.”
Lara couldn’t speak, she was purring. Pete never did something like that, he actually never even stroked her butt. This was so exciting, she was really aroused, probably for the first time in her life. Suddenly she had a strange feeling at the bottom of her belly. What was happening to her? She spontaneously moaned.
Christopher moved aside and asked Lara to turn on her back. He lay beside her and began stroking her breast. Kissing Lara, he whispered, “You have the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen. It’ll be my mission to worship that ass every day from now on.” He kissed her, a kiss full of passion and love, yes, love. He was falling in love. When he broke the kiss, he continued saying, “But you have other interesting parts I intend to enjoy.”
He moved his kissing lower to her neck and chest and then to her left breast, tracing the edge of her darker areola with his tongue.
Christopher heard Lara’s moaning and knew he was doing the right thing. Not all women had sensitive breasts, but apparently she did. She then arched her back offering him more of her breast.
“Talk to me Lara, tell me if you like it,” he whispered, with his lips brushing her nipple.
“Oh Chris, don’t stop,” she managed to say, intertwining her fingers with his hair.
He began sucking her nipple while teasing the other nipple with his fingers.
She couldn’t stay still, arching her back, turning her head from side to side, and shaking her legs. She was on fire from the inside out.
Christopher was amazed by how Lara was reacting, especially considering she declared she was unable to reach an orgasm, and chuckled at the idea that he might be the one to give her that. This idea alone was making his already hard cock, even harder. His jeans were becoming too tight.
He decided to tease her by stopping his love-making with her nipple and whispered, “Tell me, Lara, what’s going on? Are you in pain? Do you want me to stop?”
“Jeez, no! Don’t stop,” she squeaked, pushing his head back against her breast.
He was now sucking her nipple hard. He moved on the other breast sucking the other nipple, and moved his other hand down, along her rib cage, along her hip, and then on her mound.
At that moment Lara had a wild reaction, she stuck her heels on the mattress, pushing her hips up toward Christopher’s hand, and gasped loudly.
“Ssh. Remember? You are unable to reach an orgasm,” Christopher teased Lara.
Groaning, she said, “Stop teasing me.”
Lara couldn’t understand what was happening to her body and her brain. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, and inside she felt like a warm flood rushing through her veins toward her groin area. It was something she never experienced before for sure. Was it an orgasm? She wouldn’t know, not yet at least.
Christopher’s fingers spread Lara’s pussy’s lips, and one finger began sliding between them. She was incredibly wet. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t able to reach an orgasm being so excited. He wanted to test her and slipped that finger by her entrance, without pushing it inside her yet.
She gasped louder than before, almost cried, then stuck her heels again and pushed her hips up and that finger slipped inside her very wet pussy.
He smiled to himself. Her reactions alone were worth the wait. But he had to stay focused on her because his cock was on the verge of letting go, and that would have been embarrassing.
Still sucking her nipple, he added a second finger inside her pussy and began thrusting them in and out. Gently and first, but more firmly after a moment, when Lara’s body started quivering.
When he hooked his fingers inside her pussy, reaching her G-spot, she began pushing her hips up and down, moaning and panting loudly.
Lara felt all her blood rushing to her groin, and she couldn’t control herself, her brain was totally useless, and that was a good thing. Her body shook uncontrollably, like an earthquake. Suddenly she stopped breathing, arched her back, and lay there, still, crying out pretty loud.
Christopher didn’t stop what he was doing, hoping nobody could hear her crying and call the police.
After a few seconds, which for Lara were hours, she relaxed a little and resumed her breathing, panting. Christopher didn’t move but kept his fingers inside her. When he felt she was ok, he said, “I guess you had your first orgasm.”
She couldn’t speak, not yet. Christopher took advantage of that moment and got up to pull off his jeans, briefs, and socks in fast movements, freeing an incredible erection.
When he turned to look at her, she was looking at him with tears running down her cheeks.
“Lara is everything alright?” he rushed to ask her.
“Oh yes, more than alright,” she answered, “Now come here and make love to me.”
He reached into his jeans to get a condom when she said, “No need for that, I’m safe and I wanna feel your cock, not rubber.”
With one fast movement, he lay down on top of her, kissing her deeply.
Kissing her, with the head of his cock at her entrance, he said, “There are other things I wanted to do, but I can’t hold any longer. Later, I’m sure I can do those things.”
Placing her hands on his butt, she said, “I hope we can have more than just tonight because there are things I’d like to do as well,” and she pulled him inside her.
Feeling her tight pussy stretching around his cock, her muscles massaging and milking his cock, was an incredible sensation. Then he felt her warm juice covering his shaft, and that was it.
Panting, he said, “I’m sorry, it’s going to be faster than I wanted.”
He braced himself on his hands, arched his back, and began thrusting his cock in and out of her pussy, faster and deeper. He was probably hurting her, he didn’t know but at that moment, he couldn’t stop.
Holding her hands on his butt, she followed his rhythm pushing her hips to meet his thrusts.
After a few seconds, or minutes, or hours, they wouldn’t know, together they cried out their release and she felt his warm seed filling her empty womb.
Later, when they both resumed regular breathing, laying both on their side to face each other, he teased her, “What were you saying about not being able to reach an orgasm?”
They laughed and she felt his seed leaving her womb. “Stay there, don’t move,” he said, rushing to the bathroom to bring a towel. He helped her clean and that was such a pleasant feeling for her, a caring man for once.
“When Ryan was born, I had a bad hemorrhage,” she then explained when he was back beside her, “Long story short, after a few hours the doctor had to proceed to a hysterectomy. I can’t have children anymore. And that’s what put distance between me and Ryan’s father who wanted more children.”
Caressing her beautiful face, he said, “Lara, I can’t say I don’t care. I’d lie. I always wanted children, that’s what pushed me into teaching. But I like you, a lot. I like your body, yes. And now that I’ve seen you naked, I’m addicted to it. But I also like what’s in here,” he said, kissing her breast where the heart was, “And in here,” kissing her forehead.
They kissed, then Christopher broke the kiss to announce, “Lara, I’m in love with you and I’d like to share my life with you and Ryan and, if you allow me, I’d like to be a father for Ryan. Am I going too fast?”
She chuckled and said, “Well, we need to talk with him about that. For the other things you said, I’m in love with you as well and I’d love to share our lives. But I have another secret to share.”
“Well,” Christopher said, kissing her, “If it’s like the first one, I’ll be glad to debunk it.”
She confessed to being a best-sellers writer of erotic romances and she unveiled her pen name.
They reached Ryan at the beach one weekend to talk to him and, of course, he was excited about the idea of his mother and Ryan together, and with the idea of having a father figure in his life.
“Can I call you dad? Are you moving with us?” Ryan asked, excited.
“Do you want to call me dad?” Christopher asked Ryan, hearing Lara beside him, sniffing.
Lara and Christopher had that summer to enjoy their intimacy. They enjoyed each other and enjoyed spending their time together, mostly naked. That was a time to know each other, to learn how to live together and, for Christopher, to read all her books.
“This is a very interesting reading,” Christopher said, when he closed the first book with the beginning of an erection, “I was thinking of trying some of those things with you.”
The second weekend of August, Ryan was back home, and together, the three of them started a new family.
Almost two years later, Pete got out of jail and reached for his son. Ryan met him in the presence of his mother and their lawyer and said he wanted nothing to do with his biological father, that his real father, the only one he could consider a father, was Christopher.
That summer Lara and Christopher got married, with Ryan and Janette on their side, and me, my husband Larry, and our two daughters, Linette, and Jocelyn, to organize and assist them.
