Cupid's Project

Rocco got back up and kissed me, the taste of my juices on his lips and tongue. I held his body tightly to mine as I sucked on his tongue, reaching down again for his cock.

"God you're hot," I whispered as I stroked him again, "I've wanted to do this all week."

"Me too. I wasn't sure it was going to happen, but it's been on my mind. That day you were wearing those shorts, I thought I was going to explode. I wanted to fuck your brains out, right there on that counter."

"Do it," I laughed and he scooped me up again, carrying me into the kitchen and setting me down on the counter top. I spread my legs and he just stood there looking at me for a moment.

"Jesus, that's hot. Your tits are fucking perfect and your pussy's glistening, waiting for me," he said admiringly.

The man rarely spoke and he chose that moment to attempt to be poetic?

"Just shut up and fuck me!" I laughed, looking down at my medium sized breasts, the dark areolas just larger than a silver dollar with erect nipples advertising my complete arousal. I supposed that they were pretty great but I was much more concerned with feeling Rocco's hard cock inside me.

Stepping in between my outstretched legs, he lifted my hips off the counter. With my weight supported by my arms on the counter and his hands, he propelled inside me and I moaned loudly. His movements were hurried, but I still felt incredibly pleased at being able to turn him on so much. I began thrusting my hips in time with his, leveraging against his forearms, thankful for his strength and balance.

Placing my ass just on the edge of the counter, he continued to pump in and out of me but freed one hand to play roughly with my breasts. With the support of the counter, I too freed a hand, but moved it to my clit in an effort to speed up my oncoming orgasm so we'd be closer to coming together.

"Oh God, Olivia, you're so tight. God, I could fuck you all day," he whispered hoarsely in between grunts of pleasure.

I came again, this time my moans stifled by his kiss, though I wouldn't have cared if my neighbors could hear me. Seconds later Rocco pulled himself out of me and looked at me questioningly, silently asking me where I wanted his cum. I motioned to my breasts and held them together for him, watching as thick strings of cum dashed across my chest and stomach.

After that, I expected the pace to slow but Rocco seemed to only have mastered hard and fast. We had sex in my shower and again on my bed but despite my attempts to change the tempo, we came quickly and less intensely than I would have liked. He didn't curl up beside me after the last orgasm, which I hadn't expected but found myself wanting. I'd never thought of myself as much of a cuddler, but his quick replacement of his clothes and exit from my house seemed too fast -- apparently a theme of our afternoon together.

I sighed. At least I had finally gotten what I'd been attempting to accomplish for weeks. I'd gotten laid and by a hot 23 year old with big muscles and beautifully bronzed skin who had fixed my roof, nonetheless. I laid there feeling pleased with myself until an image of Cameron's lazy smile and his penetrating gaze floated through my mind. Of all the times I had pushed him from my mind that weekend, I was most irritated by this one. Couldn't he just let me lay in my bed, in post-orgasmic bliss, for a few minutes?

The following week, I tried to busy myself with work and making plans to attend my friend Kristy's Super Bowl party on the 7th. I didn't call Rocco. The job was finished and while the sex had been much needed and appreciated, it wasn't quite good enough to make me want to go back for more. I couldn't help wondering if it would have been better with Cameron, but I pushed the thought aside. Even if it would have been better, it came at a higher emotional price than I wanted to pay. Rocco didn't come with any strings and that was the way I preferred it.

Sunday afternoon, I was surrounded by friends enjoying the football game, trying not to think about Cameron. I don't even remember any of the new commercials that debuted or who sang the national anthem. All week long, little things he had said to me would float back up to the surface, no matter how hard I tried to drown them out. At half time I sat, half listening to my friend Gina as she talked about her boyfriend and their trouble communicating.

"Is it really that much to ask?" she asked me and I realized that I hadn't heard the initial question. Whatever was supposed to be "not too much" had been pushed aside by the memory of making out with Cameron like a schoolgirl on my couch.

"I'm sorry, Gina. I guess I wasn't really listening. Is what too much to ask?"

"Well," Gina laughed, "I was ranting about Kenny not listening to a word I say. Apparently it's contagious -- but enough about me. You've been staring off dreamily into space all day. You've got it bad for someone... who is he? Spill it! I want all the details."

I started to balk at the idea that "I had it bad" for Cameron when I realized it was plain and simply true. I'd been fighting it for over a week, but really, all I wanted to do was call him up and say that I was sorry and willing to give it a shot if he'd still have me. Of course, now the whole situation would be more complicated, since I'd fucked his honorary little brother. Editing out the juicier details, I explained to Gina how I'd met Cameron and some of the highlights of our conversations and her eyes lit up.

"Wait, there's someone on the planet who loves cynical unromantic literature as much as you do? Why on earth are you here instead of with him?" Gina teased. We'd been friends for a long time and she remembered vividly just how little Bryan and I had in common and the problems that had eventually caused.

"To be honest, I have no idea. I think I'm going to go call him. If you'll please excuse me," I said with exaggerated politeness. I felt lighter, just giving in to the idea of at least seeing if a relationship with Cameron was possible.

My stomached fluttered nervously as I clicked on his name in my phone and waited for him to pick up.

"You're awfully brave calling a man during the biggest football game of the year," Cameron's voice said jokingly into the phone, "but my team is ahead, so I'm feeling charitable. What's up, Olivia?"

I fought the urge to chicken out and hang up. I was a big girl. I could handle this... probably. "I just wanted to see if you'd come by my house after the game," I stammered as I realized that he might take that as another proposition, "or if we could meet up somewhere."

"Uh sure. I'll give you a call after the game -- oh and Olivia, it's about damn time you called."

I'm not sure how I made it through the rest of the game, especially since I had never been the world's biggest football fan. I couldn't even tell you who won because I was quickly becoming incredibly preoccupied with how Cameron would react to the news that I had slept with Rocco. If I was going to open up to the idea of a relationship, I was going to do it right and that required honesty -- the painful "maybe I'll get crushed but I have to keep my hopes up" kind of honesty.

"So where should we meet up?" I asked when he called me back, "There's a park down the street from my house."

"I'll come over to your house. I've been dying to kiss you and there might be kids at the park. I'd hate to scar them with premature exposure to PDA," Cameron laughed.

"Cool. I'll meet you there. I'm about 20 minutes away right now."

In the car, I switched on the radio to distract myself. It was Sunday evening and my favorite station was playing old school love songs. Usually, their definition of older included stuff from when I was in high school, which always made me feel old, but something caused me to stop and listen as the chorus of a familiar song by 112 began to speak directly to me.

"Cupid, doesn't lie, but you won't know unless you give it a try. True love won't lie, but you won't know unless you give it a try."

"Ok, ok," I muttered good naturedly into the air, "Thanks, Cupid. I'm trying now -- are you happy? Ease up on the arrows, I'm starting to bruise."

Cameron's truck was in my driveway as I got home. It was poignantly familiar and I wondered if I looked in the window if I'd see the book and padfolio again, but I doubted it. He stepped out of the shadows my front entryway and I noticed that once again he hadn't shaved. There were just so many looks the man could pull off and I wasn't even close to having a favorite. Everything about him gave me that ridiculous feeling of being a thirteen year old with a crush. For all that I'd discounted that feeling over the years, maybe I'd been on to something.

"I won," he said as I walked up the driveway and I wasn't sure if he meant that he'd won because he beat me to the house or because I'd called. Either way, he looked rather pleased with himself and I wanted to kiss the teasing smirk off his lips.

"So, you wanted to see me?" he asked, "I hope you're not going to try to seduce me again. I'm pretty sure I'd cave. I missed you."

"It's only been about a week," I stated, but I knew what he meant. It felt like a long time to me too.

"9 days, babe. 9 fucking days," was his response, just before he kissed me again. I started to wonder if I'd ever get tired of the feel of his lips on mine. His kiss was so completely unhurried and so completely unlike Rocco's. At that thought, I broke away and led him into the house. There was no sense getting ahead of myself. I still had a very important confession to make.

I intended to find a diplomatic way to tell him but I'd yet to find one and before I knew it, the cold facts just slipped from my mouth, "I slept with Rocco."

I held my breath, waiting to see how this announcement would affect the mood in the room.

"I know. He told me. So?"

"So? You don't care? I was worried --"

He cut me off, "Ok, don't go there. I care. If I say I don't, you'll eventually take it to mean that I don't care about you and I don't want there to be any confusion. I care, but I'm not letting you off the hook that easily. I know we have something worth trying out and I'm not going to let your fucked up commitment issues kill that for either of us."

It was the second time in the space of five minutes that he'd sworn and as far as I could remember, the second time he'd ever sworn in my presence. He was shaken up. It would have been adorable if my heart hadn't been racing so fast and my feelings in a confused jumble, rolling around my head.

"We weren't even dating. When you're my girlfriend, I'd appreciate you only having sex with me, but I can't really ask that of you beforehand."

I smiled at his use of the word "when". Jumbled feelings or not, the man was just so fucking adorable. "You said you wanted to take me out on a real date... Ok. When?"

A quasi sadistic smile lit up his face, "Something tells me that a girl like you probably hates Valentine's Day, right?"

"With a passion. It's without a doubt the most ridiculous, over commercialized day of BS to ever grace the calendar," I answered.

"So let's go out on Valentine's Day. It's not the first thing you've been dead wrong about," he stated, so matter-of-factly that I playfully punched him in the arm.

"No."

"No?" he asked, cocking his head to one side and raising one eyebrow.

"I have a girl's night planned that night, but you can have Saturday," I smiled.

"Done," he smiled, walking away, "and just so you know, when I say real date, I mean it. No pjs or jeans. Find a skirt to show of those legs and be prepared to find me the most charming of men."

"Where are you going?" I asked, incredulously. Even on the day we'd fought, he'd left me with a kiss.

"I'm building anticipation, Princess. I'll see you Saturday."

"Jerk!" I yelled, tossing a throw pillow at his back, but missing completely.

The week dragged by until early Saturday evening when I started to get ready. I curled my hair and wore a strapless pink dress, in honor of the occasion. I could have cared less about the romantic date, I just wanted to see him. We'd talked once during the week, but it had been brief, in between meetings and I missed him more than I would have thought possible. I was clearly infatuated.

He showed up to my house with a single red rose and I tried not to let my cynicism for the holiday kill the gesture. I thanked him with a kiss and then he led me out to his truck before I could manage to effectively distract him from his plans for a night out.

We went to dinner at a beautiful wine bar with a balcony overlooking a constructed waterfront in Scottsdale, but I don't remember what I ate or drank. I was completely taken with the full force of Cameron going out of his way to charm me. He pulled out my chair, stood up when I left the table to use the restroom and again when I returned. It was terribly chivalrous and even though I typically didn't go in for all that, it worked its magic anyway. After dinner, we slow danced on the terrace to the music provided by a street jazz band and I kissed him in the moonlight. I tried to tell myself that I would be ok if the night ended with nothing more than kissing but I knew that I was kidding myself. I'd never wanted to have sex with someone more in my whole life.

Deciding to press my luck, since I'd given in and agreed to a real date, I leaned up on my tip toes and whispered into his ear a line from one of my all-time favorite movies, "Take me to bed or lose me forever."

With a quickness that surprised even him, I think, he grabbed my hand and led me out of the restaurant. He was speeding and when he passed the exit for my house, I started to say something until I realized that he was taking me home with him. I'd never been to his house before, but the novelty of that was completely drowned out by the anticipation of finally being with him.

I don't remember the walk to his room but once inside, I stood there just looking at him for a moment -- deciding. Not deciding if I would have sex with him -- that was a given -- finally! The question was how -- fast, slow, hot, safe, missionary or me on top? Would he figure out that sliding a hand possessively over my hip tickles like hell but turns me on more than three glasses of wine? Was he one of those guys that got off on leaving lights and clothes on or would he only be happy once his skin was in complete contact with mine? I could see myself with him; licking the tip of his cock, his face buried between my thighs, my hands pinned above my head as he pushed into me, so big it hurt but stretching me in a delicious way that eventually accommodated him. I was beginning to feel dizzy, from the thoughts swirling through my head or maybe that last glass of wine but whatever the case, the time for thinking had past.

I pushed him back against the wall. I'm sure he thought I was going to kiss him, but instead my teeth clamped down on his shoulder and playfully bit into the muscle. I wanted him much too badly to play romantic and soft. His hands grasped my waist roughly pulling my whole body into contact with his. A thrill ran through me so sharp, I inhaled a quick breath, taking in the smell of his cologne. His hands were in my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my neck, which he licked and sucked in a way that sent a quiver through my thighs and made me wish he was much lower. I let out a low groan that could have been confused with a growl, pulling his head up so I could attack his lips.

His hands dropped lower, rubbing my cleavage seductively and then pushing his hand inside the cup of my strapless bra to graze my nipple. I grabbed handfuls of his sweater and twisted, hearing the seam rip. Breaking our kiss, I slid it over his head and threw it across the room. His body was calling me, I wanted to lick it, grab it, bite it - but my hands trailed down to his jeans. He was hard and straining against the stiff fabric. One hand rubbed him through his jeans and he groaned as my other was unbuttoning quickly.

I vaguely noticed as my own sweater came off, but my eyes were focused on his beautiful cock, begging me to touch it.

"Please," he whispered as my hands mischievously trailed over him.

"Please what? Fingers or tongue?" I teased.

"Both!" he said, grabbing me by the hair and positioning my lips at the head of his cock.

My tongue darted out of my lips and licked the forming drops as my hands glided up and down the length of him. Cupping his balls, I licked and sucked, loving the way his smooth, salty skin slid across my tongue. I delighted in the look on his face, a mixture of pleasure and impatience as I worked up and down.

He reached down and pushed down the top of my dress and then grabbed my breasts roughly, pinching my nipples. I sighed around his cock, and suddenly felt myself being pulled up from my knees. His strong arms drug me slowly along his body, the lace of my bra rubbing over his stomach, the hair on his chest tickling my skin.

Without any words he began walking me back towards his bed. I kissed him again and felt myself falling backwards, bringing him with me. I felt his hands underneath my dress, rubbing the wetness on my panties just seconds before I felt them sliding down my legs, his hands trailing over my thigh and the curve of my calf.

It was my turn to whisper please as he pushed my dress up around my waist. I wanted him inside me. His hands slid over my hips, pulling them up as he entered me roughly at first, but slower as he watched my eyes widen. I moaned in pleasure as I felt every inch of him slide inside me, my walls clasping him tightly. When he began to pull back, I moaned, raising my hips, trying to keep him. He buried himself even deeper, his cock stroking inside me as I grabbed his ass. The more I got used to the size of him, the faster his rhythm became. He pulled my hair again, causing me to cry out and cling tighter to him, his name coming from my lips in breathy syllables.

It was good, very very good, but I wasn't ready to cum. I wanted, no needed, for this to last longer, to build a little more after all the non-sexual build up we'd had. I kissed him softly, cuing him in to my desire to change things up a bit. He returned my kiss, slowing his strokes as his tongue caressed and explored my mouth. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around my back and then rolled the two of us sideways, still inside me, bringing me on top.

Strong fingers undid the clasp of my bra and as I sat up, my legs straddled his hips and my breasts bounced slowly. He reached up to play with them as I slowly rode his cock, rotating my hips in slow circles. He ran his hands from my inner thighs out to my knees, pushing them farther apart as I squeezed him, the slight twinge my muscles making me even more aware of the building sensations inside.

"Oh, god," I whispered, lowering myself, taking him in as deeply as I could manage. I could feel him shuddering as I squeezed him tightly again; the look in his eyes telling me that he wouldn't last much longer if I kept that up.

I could have ran my fingers down to my clit and let us finish there, but I'd only built half of the tension I wanted to have, so I slowly slid him out of me, moving away from his body completely and discarding my dress. Leaning over his chest, I ran my fingers through the light hair and kissed him again. His arms reached out and pulled me to him, once again bringing the length of our bodies into contact. The feel of his skin, hot and sweaty against mine made me sigh and his tongue slipped into my mouth again. He brought a hand in between out bodies and felt his way down to the folds of my pussy, stroking the sensitive lips and tracing light circles over my clit.

It was only moments before I began to feel myself coming closer and closer to the edge of losing control, but I wanted him inside me when I came. Pulling back one more time, I bit him again, unable to control the surge of lust running through me. I moved to the end of his bed, my ass facing him, pushing up onto my hands and knees. I didn't even have the chance to look over my shoulder at him before I felt him behind me, pushing into me so hard I thought I was going to fall off the bed, but his hands on my waist steadied me.