Chapter 2: Hunger
Their first snowfall together has been magical. To Rose, seeing Steve silently cry with joy in front of her is a fire piercing through this cold night. It is her first winter, and she has no words to describe the thrill of seeing its beauty with the man who has shared almost everything with her – except a ring on her finger.
“I don’t want to marry,” she always tells herself.
But how come she feels like she wants something more stable that holds her lingering want and need with this man holding her in this chair right now?
He just made her sore when they made love. Yet she wants more. More of him, more of his touch, and probably more of his soul.
So does he. Steve has never learned to verbalise his feelings this much until she came into his life. And now, crying in front of her? He has seldom shown his feelings, even to his wife. He has always chosen to stay tough on the outside, even if he has been crushed deep inside. But one touch from Rose just melts the icicles around his heart. She has changed him more than she knows. How he wishes he could let her know.
“I’m just dying to have that massage that you promised right now…” Steve whispers in her ear.
Rose smiles, gets off him and leads him to the big rustic tub. He gladly takes her hand and gives it a gentle kiss. His lips move to her wrist, up to her arm, to her elbow and shoulder.
“We have to get started. Dinner is getting cold,” she seductively sighs.
“I am having my meal right here,” he responds as he kisses her neck.
“Sit in the tub now, my heart,” she gently pushes him towards the tub, even if her wetness has started to build again.
“Okay, my Rose,” he hesitatingly stops his hand from touching her sweet bud again so he can step into the rustic tub.
Steve sits in the warm water that soothes his skin. “Give me the massage in here.”
His girlfriend answers him by digging her fingers into his shoulder to knead his tired muscles. With only the velvet red stockings on, she stands behind his head, now draped on the edge of the white porcelain. He smiles as he sees Rose’s mouth-watering breasts dangle just above his face when she reaches out for his tired chest and shoulders.
“I want my fruits, please!”
Slowly, Rose slides her hands from his shoulders to his arms, lowering her upper body onto him. And like a child, he closes his eyes as he reaches for her tits and sucks one and then the other. She bites her lip almost in surrender, but she wants him to wait. So she kneads his arms with more pressure and slides them back to his shoulders. Every time she leans to reach his arms, his mouth playfully latches onto her pendulous breasts. Now, more water drips down her thighs from her pearl.
The aroma of the scented candles blends with the chamomile flavour emanating from the bubbles. It lavishly fills the steamy air, now pierced by their moans.
Steve leads Rose’s hand to his engorged manhood. He loves the massage that she gives, but he wants her hand to just hold him there. She slowly walks to the side of the tub and strokes his shaft. His eyes linger on her curves; her chocolate contour even more glowing in the flicker of the candlelight. Her strokes are gentle – from the tip down to the base. He throws his head back while savouring this delicious treat. This massage is meant to soothe his ache, but her hands bring him more ache.
“You know, I’ve been happy with my family life… so I still don’t know why I want you so bad.”
Locking eyes with him, she leads his hand to her hips. He moves closer to her so he can grope them like how he kneads his favourite dough – deliberate and on point. Her vintage stockings are peeled off her legs right before she steps into the tub. She sinks lower into the water as she continues to stroke his cock, now throbbing even more intensely.
They are seated face-to-face; her thighs drape his, allowing his fingers to access her labia more easily. She whimpers as he pushes one finger inside. This synchronised masturbation is so mind-blowing for both of them that they could utter things that they have been keeping to themselves.
“Don’t you really know?” she says in a whimper as his finger curls inside her.
“I don’t want to know. Because I don’t want this to end,” he gasps as her strokes become firmer.
“So we will still float in a limbo?” she bravely asks as she gyrates on his finger.
“I would rather float with you than end things with you. Nothing has changed. Nothing has stopped me from wanting you this way.”
“Just this way?” Her breathing has become more ragged as he inserts the second finger deep within her folds.
“This is the best that I could give you.” His voice breaks as his pulse quickens while holding his tears.
Steve’s other hand cups Rose’s face and hungrily kisses her. He wishes to make her feel so desired, despite being his other woman. He knows she deserves more than what he can offer. In the last two years, they have tried so many times to end this. But the more that they were apart, the hungrier they became. So they decided they would no longer starve each other.
Hailee Steinfeld’s song “Starving” emanates from the cabin’s speakers. They giggle at the line about her not knowing she was starving till she tasted him. Then they press their lips onto each other again, making their tongues dance, entwined in perfect rhythm.
“I need to have you in my mouth,” Rose utters in deep want.
“Can I hear a ‘please’?” Steve chuckles.
“Please?” she giggles back.
Steve locks Rose’s hips with his and slowly balances himself as he stands up in the tub. His arms carefully support her weight as she clings to him.
“Gosh, I didn’t know you were this strong.” She gives him another kiss.
“Well, I give it my all when I’m famished.” He controls himself not to fuck her right there in the tub because he wants to savour this kind of once-in-a-lifetime meal.
Steve steps out of the tub while carrying Rose around his waist. He is 6 feet tall. She is just 5 feet. “Easy peasy. You are not as heavy as you think,” he responds to that unspoken hesitation she’s been trying to hide. She is not so confident about her weight, but he always tells her she is beautiful just the way she is.
He walks into the shower. The cold floor seems to turn warm as soon as he presses her against the wall. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as they kiss, nibble and bite each other’s lips and neck.
“I must have your cock in my mouth, my heart, please.”
Her plea is quickly granted. Now she stands in front of him just below the shower. She turns the knob, and the water trickles down their bodies. They rub each other’s skin in a tantric way, immersing themselves into each other like a ritual, slowly building to a crescendo.
Her kisses on his neck are more hurried and raw. She moves south, licking his chest and his man nipples, tugging them with her teeth. He lets out more moans when she bends over and begins to go further south.
Grabbing his hips, then his thighs, she leans closer to the huge swell between his legs. She opens her mouth and breathes onto his pinkish crown. She adores his shaft by licking the tip in slow circles, rubbing his length and massaging his balls. He slowly moves into her mouth as she opens wider, abandoning himself to her care. He is just holding off because, as always, he wants her to cum first.
With more intense sucking, she lets him push into her throat. She gags wildly as his two fingers ravage her clit, and another finger runs between her folds up to the base of the crack of her ass. Her knees shake as he extends his arm from behind and dips his finger deeper inside, curling them in synch with how her mouth works on his manhood that is now turning purple.
He twists her clit a bit, bites her shoulder and hits her G-spot just in time; she opens and clenches his finger inside her. She releases him from her mouth and screams as the orgasm rips through her.
Steve pulls Rose up so they can embrace under the shower. She is still shivering when he turns her to face the wall. Pinning her wrists onto the cold tiles, he grabs her waist closer to his and pushes his raging cock into her aching pussy from behind.
“Slam into me!” she begs, crying.
Hearing her beg turns his blood warmer and warmer. He spreads her legs apart as he accelerates his pace. She clenches his hard wood, savouring every inch of him. She pushes her ass back onto his hips as she steadies her waist. Each thrust sends her into a frenzy. His grip on his wrists is tighter, his breathing becomes so shaky, and his hips buck like this is their last fuck. Her nipples sting as they harden, and her body quakes as he thrusts into her more relentlessly, making her feel that her pussy walls would collapse. He buries his pulsing cock into her deepest crevice, and as she screams his name, he claims her second orgasm in deep groans as he spurts his loads of cum inside her womb.
He releases her wrists so he can embrace her lovingly once more. Chest heaving and knees weakening, they curl into each other’s arms as the shower cools off the immense heat of their passion.
“Only you make me feel this way,” Steve confesses as she traces the tears from her eyes.
And though Rose still can’t believe it, she smiles. She opens her hands as his fingers entwine and lock with hers. By the window, a few of the candles’ wicks give off light as they are drowned in melted wax.
He nibbles her neck as she murmurs, “I still don’t know how.”
“We don’t have to find out now.”
Panting and still a bit shaking, they soap each other’s bodies, letting the warm water run over their skin. They get out of the shower and see more snow fall outside the glass window.
She wraps a white towel around her body and tucks the tip into her cleavage. He dries himself while watching her every move. He tells himself he can watch her all night.
He turns on the vanity mirror lights. As he had longed to do, he damps her hair with a smaller towel and picks up the comb in front of the mirror. Surprised, she stands still and lets him brush her wavy locks. No man has done this to her. With him, almost everything feels brand new.
“You’re good at using the brush,” she teases.
“I have two daughters.” He knows he can mention anything about his kids, because she actually likes being around kids.
“Hungry?” she asks, staring at his beautiful blue eyes in the mirror.
“My tummy’s growling,” he quips.
When he’s done brushing her hair and combing his, they get dressed for their real dinner. She reheats the food in the microwave oven as he concocts his spiked eggnog. In front of the fireplace, while enjoying the music, they dine, talk, and listen to each other’s stories as fated lovers who own this night.
By the lake, the wind blows more snow, covering the roof of the wooden cabin, just like some gingerbread house cookies in kiddie cookbooks for the holidays.
On the couch, Steve swipes his phone on to show Rose the videos of his youngest boy building a snowman, his eldest son winning a volleyball game, and his younger daughter posing at the theatre with him in a selfie. He is a very good father. So she feels a punch in her gut for coveting him without them knowing.
He pours her another drink. Raising his glass, he says, “To more hunger that we will sate together.”
She sighs and softly laughs. “Cheers.”
There’s a clank, a crackling of the burning wood and more sighs as they caress each other’s arms under the thick covers. He wraps his arm around her, and she leans in. Her eyes glisten as she stares into the fireplace, and he closes his, inhaling the room’s fragrance, especially the scent of her hair.
