Mental Patience Ch. 04

"Is that what you want?" Elijah palmed her right breast with his right hand, taking a huge part of it in his mouth after he spoke, flicking her nipple with his tongue at a frantic pace while he sucked with force.

"Yes!" Heather was surprised at her own volume; she had answered at the same moment her left hand clasp her free nipple by forcing her arm between their bodies. Elijah had not expected all of this; he was losing it to her, this girl.

She was laying on her back with one of his knees between her legs, Elijah laying along her side, laying some of his weight on her body as the toes of his extended leg tickled her own. Heather was losing it as well, and rubbing herself to climax against a tattoo she had just learned was there, her shorts long gone, only her black thong to separate from his marked naked flesh.

Heather was an attractive young woman, in good, fit health; but for a time after he stood and undressed in front of her, she felt self conscious.

She had actually covered her breasts when he started absently masturbating in front of her, daring her to look: Elijah knew the gift he was given, women had thrown themselves at him since they knew, making up lies when they could not have him.

It wasn't very often that a tall, handsome, intelligent and employed man also had a perfect body and a larger than average penis.

Her eyes caught his tattoo dark against his leg in the flashing lights of the television. It seemed to be his only tattoo, on the front of his muscled right thigh and in the upper half of it; it was three symbols in a line: A pitchfork with an apostrophe and an S, a pentagram, and an Egyptian eye with an arrow to the center.

Heather had no idea what it meant, or when he had gotten it, or that it was even there in the first place.

His voice, combined with his appearance, made it all go away when he spoke to her. "Take your shorts off, Hot Stuff, but not your panties..." Elijah licked his lips as he spoke, as if his mouth were watering, his eyes fierce. He did not have to go all the way, they could wait...

That was all it took for the two to be where they were, and comfortable.

"Please!" Heather yelled. There was no concern at the volume this time. Heather wrapped her left leg around his hip, forcefully humping against him, his manhood pushing into her right thigh a mostly shaven mound; she could stand no more teasing, as his tongue still moved at an incredible pace, but Elijah had switched breasts - still using his right hand - while he had somehow moved her hands above her head with only his left thumb and pointer.

She did not have the strength to break free of his fingers - he never caused her pain from the soft iron grip; regardless Heather was unable to satisfy herself any extra without free hands. She could feel his erection slap against her sparsely fuzzed mound when he pulled away from her to tug the black strings off of her hips, but using his right hand on the crotch of the thong to do it.

"It's sexy how wet you are," Elijah said softly, in a low rumbling voice. He let go of her wrists, Heather's hands flying to his back as he positioned himself between her legs, trying her best pull him down upon her body. His left arm held his body firm above, and his right hand hit her soaked lips, holding her hips from rising off the bed.

"Oooh gaawwwd..." came huskily from her lips in a harsh whisper - along with a dull ache within her body - in time with Elijah when slid the two fingers next to his right thumb into her passage, the thumb landing on her button. Her lubricants, their dance, made entrance easy; her instincts made her muscles clamp down, and his removal impossible.

Heather was in climax, echoing silence; her eyes were wide, her mouth was open, and every muscle on her visible flesh was at full tension. It was Heather's first orgasm at another's hand - with the man she had hoped - her hands tearing at his back, and her legs clamping his wrist.

As suddenly as he had put his fingers into her, they just as suddenly flew out when her muscled relaxed with quickness. Before Elijah could try something else, Heather had both of her hands holding his erection, trying to force it inside her body while he resisted her.

"put it in... Eli... put it in, putitin.. please," she kept repeating herself, almost inaudible, and now trying to use her legs to hold herself up. "Please, Eli, Please!" now more than audible, the perspiration of their bodies making it impossible to hold herself up to gain even the slightest penetration.

This is not where he had intended to be.

Elijah had not suspected Heather's sexual tenacity. She was a sweaty vixen, suddenly mirroring his imagination more than a little bit; he had hoped to show her some tricks, to wait until she understood their connection before being firsts; Heather already knew the tricks, naturally.

Elijah had failed to realize her potential, what she wanted - and it was just that, not chance, that turned the dominos to the new path, even if it was too soon.

Elijah thrust forward as her hands ripped his back and her legs finally locked around his butt, pulling Elijah cock, in one smooth movement, deeply into her tight, wet, and more than perfect pussy as fast as physics would allow.

They both came in union, seconds after they lost their virginity at the same time, both silent as they did, with open mouth stares into the eyes of the other.

A minute later, probably less, still locked together - still inside of her, and still erect - Elijah began to thrust slowly at first and then in an ever increasing fashion; the sounds of their mashing juices seemed to be the only noise above their heavy breathing and random, soft, tongue filled kisses.

They moved like lovers, thrusting in tune and not at all rushing.

Occasionally Heather would cry out to sensations; just as often, Elijah would grunt or growl; he stopped thinking that this was all too soon, at least right then: In fact, he would not think of such things for quite some time, until two years later, on his parents's porch.

***

Nicole was the only human being Elijah had seen slip out of a pair on pants when they were not break-away style. Elijah was wrong, she had been wearing underwear that evening, it was just nonexistent and out of his reach, creamy yellow, almost beige in color and slightly contrasting the tone of her moist skin, but matching the contrasting color of the short tank top she wore.

Nicole spun in a circle away from him after sliding out of her pants, hooking her hands through the loops of the tank as she spun, sliding it down to her waist as she faced him once again.

"You're stunning.. perfect even..." Elijah was trailing off into a whisper as he watched Nicole bend over, returning to standing by sliding a hand along one leg until she was upright; her long muscles echoing underneath her skin while she bent at impossible angles - Nicole watching his eyes watch her body, the thing that all men wanted from her; her nipples were Hershey's perfect.

"Isn't that something..." he spoke aloud, still in a whisper, while she approached him, reaching a hand into the sagging shorts that truly did need a belt, and grasping hold of his member. He let her massage his shaft for quite some time as he softly touched parts of her body to check the truth of his eyes. Nicole was ready, she was feeling like a virgin again - but from his gaze.

He was making her feel like the most important woman in the world, as if her beauty was more than he could handle, and as if he had not noticed it before.

Nicole struck just before the last straw fell into place: "Can we have sex now? I can't take this anymore, because I need to fuck you."

"If we do that now, it will ruin everything. If you can't handle this, what makes you think you can handle that?" He lightly tweaked a nipple, snapping her mind away for a second, causing her to squeak and smile.

"please..." Elijah had seen that look once before on a girl from - for - another time. He shook his head to remove the image of lost relations, almost mad at himself for letting it enter his thoughts. He turned quickly and pulled the shirt off of the seat, still forcing the thought from his mind as he spoke.

"No.. If we do this now, then everything ends too soon, and I'll be alone again." He looked sad as his hands hit her hips; Elijah lifted her into the air as if she were weightless.

He walked over to the large lounge chair, his previous seat, and sat down placing her weight on his lap; Nicole had bent her knees without being asked.

Their contact brought more heat, forcing Nicole to lean back and pull the scrunched tank-top off her hips, throwing it on the floor. She began to absently ride him and play with his pectorals and collarbone.

"please... I give the world's best blowjob..."

"That's a big deal, and a bold claim, Missy." He chose to echo her words, grinning as he did. Nicole looked at the ceiling, letting out a soft sound from her throat before looking back at him with a smile and an ironic squint to her eyes: They now had an inside joke.

"I mean it, I'm good, and I really like you, the way you see things. I want this, Eli," at first, while speaking, her hands had been playing with the sweaty bottom of his hair, above his neck, with her forearms on his shoulders, but her hands were holding his stubble'd cheeks by the time she finished. Nicole leaned into him, arching her back and pressing her slick chest into his own.

At first, the kiss was hurried, almost forceful and not erotic in the least, but soon after it started, Elijah just slightly more forcefully seized her hip and wrapped an arm behind her shoulder, holding the back of her neck, redirecting the kiss to a new pace: This new kiss was insanely slower and twice as forceful, and Elijah set the rhythm.

She took his lead, melting to the sensation of his tongue as he slowly released the tension of his fingers, as if he were teaching her how to kiss for the first time.

"He touched her face, pushing her away lightly. "If we do this now, I'm going to make you crazy," Nicole looked at him, confused, tasting the scotch on his breath, "and then I'm going to turn into an asshole, because you are crazy, and then you're going to turn into a bitch," Nicole raised an eyebrow at that one, almost angry but understanding, "and then I'm going to be a dickhead, and then this will be over, because I'm not the one to love you."

"Then who is?" Nicole knew the answer, but she was asking anyway, trying for any chance to make him slip, to show it was all bullshit.

"He is, and you know it." Elijah looked stern, but not mean or fierce this time - more understanding, like he knew what would happen.

"Is that all?" Nicole was still riding his shorts, though to a pace she did not notice he set, because she was full of thoughts of the kiss she wanted to return to, the first of a kind, and the only kind she would want from this day foreword.

"Not really. Just know that no matter when we do this, it's going to change your life."

"Ha!" Nicole twisted a large portion of her own breast in one palm while she spoke and performed the word, throwing her head back in unison and holding his shoulder with the other hand, the action - along with her hips - causing Elijah to groan.

"I figure.. o-oh.. I figure, either way, for me, it's worth it," he stopped speaking when she slowly circled her hips, beginning again when she returned to up-and-down. "It's your call, gorgeous, your choice, now, or later."

His hands had finally found her nearly bare and gloriously round buttocks, and they were more firm than they appeared to be, similar to the density of his own bicep when she flexed.

His fingers started gripping her ass with a force far beyond what she had seen so far, sure to leave red marks and bruises, but his thumbs were still on the protrusions of her pelvis, holding her back.

***

This was the first time they were together since he had dumped her.

This was very different, and quite frankly, almost awkward; Heather almost seemed scared to do what she wanted to do. Elijah knew he should not have agreed to share the hotel room with Heather at the last minute.

They were on the balcony of the room, shoulder to shoulder and leaning on the railing, shielded from the other balconies by structural walls, but free to the world below them. Elijah was feeling their connection flare; Heather was remembering how it felt to be around him.

He should have known better: Of course she would be at his cousin's wedding, essentially her cousin by circumstance. He should have stayed away until she was ready for him, but chance was winning again.

Chance should not have won. Elijah was in a tux, and women were throwing themselves at him, but Elijah only felt, only saw, Heather. He sat in his seat, talking to his Grandfather, and forcing her from his mind, all night long.

Elijah never rose to dance, not even when the most attractive, most obviously slutty, and most single of the bridesmaids had asked him. Elijah instead convinced her to shimmy with his Pop.

Heather had chased him down as he left the reception just after the cake, early, just catching the elevator he stepped into with her leap. She could not have planned it better, if she had planned it.

"Hi." She was looking great in a simple patterned cream dress with a black belt, matching the pastels of the ceremony, with her hair done up, a tiny purse, and strapped heels.

A flower from one of the smaller centerpieces had been placed into her hair, perfectly, as if on accident.

"Hi," he said, leaning into the corner of the elevator as it traveled up, leaning off of his crossed heels and holding his weight on the small railings inside the space. "You look nice."

"Uh.. thanks.. I like your shoes, in fact, everyone did. They must be new..." She really had nervous vibe projecting, making her quite sexy as she swayed in indecision. He had not thought she would try this so soon.

"Belvederes, ostrich leather, actually." Elijah really did love these shoes. These were his dancing shoes; he only had his dancing shoes, a pair of boots, and two different pair of sneakers.

"Oh? Nice. Um.. so I think I drank too much." She had not; he was watching like a stalker with the skill of a lifetime voyeur, "Do you think I could sleep in your room? It doesn't have to be the bed.. or anything like that... Um.."

"Ok." Elijah would make this easy. He had rented the suite, his intention to pick up a pretty girl and show her a good time, and the bride's best friend had caught his eye long ago. Now was as good a time as any to show Heather more; because of Heather, before the elevator, he was only thinking of a gin and tonic and the hot tub with a view of the trendy city.

Both he and chance were shuffling the cards, steering the dominos down the same path.

Elijah had managed to justify his actions when they originally dated by telling himself he was only showing her how good things could be, and that one day: He would be what she's looking for. Their first encounter was a one way street; this encounter was looking much better, her potential had always surprised Elijah.

He moved into her on the balcony, only thoughts of future road construction and urban planning in his mind. "You're telling me nobody has snatched you up yet? There's been no one else in the last.. what? ..a year?" He knew there were others. He even knew who they were without being told, but this was not about Elijah.

"I thought I couldn't live without you for a while...."

"You can't," he interrupted her, clearly not going to say more; his words made her slink away from him though still touching shoulders as they leaned. Heather had missed the way he made her body react.

"Ook.." she brushed his words off, "Well then Billy came along." Heather rolled her eyes at both of the things she said.

"I told you." He said, sternly but without condescension.

"What do you mean you told me?" Heather was aghast, Elijah's favorite, and she had pushed herself away from him with her arms, now standing just as close, but straight up. Elijah continued to lean.

"..there it is..." Elijah said in a soft breath, thinking only of the passion they were about to have. "You don't remember me telling you that Billy only wanted to sleep with you, and that he was probably going to use you? It was right after that barbeque, I think I said: 'treat you like shit.' "

"Well yeah, but he was my friend..." Heather looked tired for a passing moment.

"I told you there is no such thing, or did you forget that as well?" He was letting his words hang in the air, a trick Heather seldom allowed towards the end of their relationship. It drove him crazy when she broke the connection.

"Oh, like you knew." It was too soon, she cut his hanging words down. Heather may have been feeling the connection, but she still didn't know what it was, feeling as if it were tricking her. He knew she was mocking him; he made no reaction but a sigh during a patient look into her eyes, sadness at her potentially never understanding slightly tinting his gaze.

"I know you were with another man as well..." Elijah managed to rehang words - where they stayed this time. His patience paid off, and Heather leaned back into his shoulder, and back onto the railing. "Probably an older gentleman. Just be glad I'm not bringing up your experiments with your roommate."

"I'm not a lesbian! How would do you know, anyway?" Heather said aloud while only thinking: "Boys may be boys, but sometimes this boy.. Oh, boy," Heather had pulled away from him, aghast and appalled.

"I never said you were a lesbian, Heather." His words hung in a way as to show he meant no harm, naturally bringing her back into his shoulder.

"How do you know so much?" Heather sighed out the words as she made herself comfortable, watching the side of his face.

"I tried to tell you we're connected, but you made fun of me, remember?" Elijah was feeling awful inside at the thoughts of Heather with other men. "Sometimes motivations and actions are obvious without the details."

"Oh I didn't make fun of you, Eli." Her words only served to remind Elijah of what she was still missing.

"Yes. You did. It doesn't matter anyway. So, this other other guy?"

"Are you jealous or something?" Heather was mocking him, again. Elijah had had about enough of that.

"You're fucking right I am, Flower Girl," he said; he was stern, but understanding, and not making fun of her.

Heather looked at him for a long moment, wondering how someone who swore that he was not love with her could possibly be jealous, could possibly know things, and could possibly remember everything all the time. "It was on my vacation with Trisha."

"That explains why you didn't just go to Mexico." Elijah said aloud. "Let me guess, she knew someone who lived down there, who just happened to have a friend available to hang for the week when you guys arrived? I told you Trisha was a villain."

"..Ugh!" She looked angry, speaking with more volume, but her body did not move. "I got naked on the beach too! ..And I was really drunk! ..Is that what you want to hear?!"

Her conversational rhythm appeared off when compared to his own thereafter, and she had spoken first.

"Did you have a good time?" Elijah's words were full of genuine question, an audible first on her part. Heather's brain jumped to a place, a sensation, it had never been to before.

"..I'm such a slut," she only looked down at the world below her, trying to find the pattern, but only able to feel the heat from his body passing through their designer fabrics - their outfits adjusted for comfort: Heather's belt was gone, some of her hair had fallen out of the bundle: Elijah had lost his tie, vest, and jacket, down to unbuttoned sleeves and a slightly visible undershirt.