The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 03

Tim had been on a trip for the past few days and arrived to find his girlfriend in this state. But now there was another, more pressing issue as far as he was concerned.

"Adam?" he asked.

It would have been quite obvious to Jessica, were she not as emotionally unhinged as she was, that there was a touch of anger in the word. Tim had always been the jealous type.

"Jocelyn's boyfriend," she told him. "He came to visit me Friday night."

Tim was not happy. "Here? Alone?"

"We talked for awhile," she said, still not sensing his own rising emotion. "He's such a sweet guy, you know? Jocelyn meant so much to him. He's trying to find his way, as we all are."

Tim had no idea what that meant. He just knew his girlfriend had been alone in her apartment with a guy in his late twenties, who'd loved a woman who looked just like Jessica. Though he'd effectively concealed it from her, Tim was not a very nice guy to go along with a nature often both jealous and cruel. He cared little for the concerns of others, and was quite self-absorbed. He pushed her off him and rose to his feet.

Jessica looked up at him with surprise in her eyes. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Out," he told her, and then he was gone.

* * *

Lindy Mills loved visiting the house of her older sister, Tiffany. Lindy was a senior in high school, and though it was only October, she was desperately ready to graduate, to experience what the world had to offer. She was gorgeous like her sister with the same brunette hair and brown eyes, but where Tiffany was voluptuous and curved, Lindy was thin and toned. In fact, Lindy looked younger than she was, despite having a mind and soul far older than her eighteen years.

Things she enjoyed about visiting Tiffany: not having her parents around to restrict her; the huge swimming pool in the backyard; the sex talks she enjoyed with her sister; the way everyone treated her like an adult; flirting with her sister's husband, Trent, and the other men who were often there; and the general freedom she felt, the ability to be her own woman.

All excellent things, indeed, which is why Lindy was stoked to be spending this particular Sunday in the McCullough house while her parents were out at some ritzy charity function.

She spent the afternoon hours lounging by the pool in her tiny pink bikini and Gucci shades, soaking the sun up to perfect an already stunning golden brown tan. Some of that time she spent talking on the phone with her two best friends, Amy Sinton and Bethany Styler, also eighteen-year-old seniors at Lindy's high school. Lindy was the brains of their little triumvirate; the girls were not the brightest bulbs, though they were adventurous, cheerful, and loyal. The three had been friends for a long time—not as long as Tiff and her friends, but getting there.

After cleaning up from her pool day, Lindy flopped down onto the couch for some bonding time with her big sister—they were half-chatting, half-watching an adult comedy her parents would never let her watch, despite the fact that she was eighteen and could vote for the next president.

Then the doorbell rang and Tiffany rose to answer—and Lindy squealed with glee when Kelsey Cartwright sauntered inside; Kelsey was gorgeous and Lindy loved to look at her, but more importantly, whenever her sister and Kelsey got together, the subject invariably turned to sex.

Which is why she wassodisappointed when Tiffany turned to her with apologetic understanding written all over her face, and said, "Lindy, could you give us a few minutes alone, sweetie?"

Lindy opened her mouth, ready to protest, when she saw the soft, soothing look her sister was giving her turn to steel—it would be no use, she realized. She rose with a sigh and trudged out of the room, and left the two older women to their conversation.

Of course, she would not stay away for long. Lindy crept back down the stairs as quietly as she could, taking care to keep out of sight, and strained her ears to listen to what was being said. It would have to be good if they were trying to keep it from her.

"Tonight," she could hear Kelsey saying.

"You've decided?" Tiffany sounded eager.

There was silence, followed by Kelsey again. "I want to befucked," she said, and there was so much fire in her voice that Lindy nearly gasped out loud, "and Idon'twant my husband to do it."

"Serves him right," Tiffany said calmly.

"Completely," the other agreed.

"The first time I fucked Adam, when I came, it was like fireworks went off inside my head. It was that good. Adam is that good. You'll love it."

Lindy's mind was spinning. She had no time to process what was being said before the conversation barreled forward and there was more illicit information to chew on.

"Heather wants him, too," Kelsey said. "She decided last night. It's only a matter of time before the three of us are fucking him regularly."

More silence, then Tiffany. "How does that make you feel?"

"Honestly? Closer to you girls. Like you said, knowing that we're sharing the cock of a man is incredibly empowering, but knowing that cock belonged to Jocelyn, and in many ways still belongs to her, is also something I can feel in my heart is right."

Tiffany said softly, "I know."

The silence that hung in the air was longer than any of the others, which was perfect for Lindy, who was still struggling to digest all that she had learned.

"Nice cock?" Kelsey said suddenly.

"Very nice," Tiffany replied. "Big and thick, and he knows how to use it. Made me orgasm so good I can still feel the tingles in my toes."

She was not the only one tingling; Lindy could feel the wetness between her legs just from listening to the conversation. She knew they were talking about Adam Cross, the boyfriend of Jocelyn Barnes, who had been one of her sister's best friends before she died a few months earlier. It seemed, incredibly, that all of Jocelyn's old friends would soon be fucking her old boyfriend. Lindy was hot just thinking about it.

She heard rustling as Kelsey said, "I can't wait any longer."

Lindy realized the conversation was over and scampered back upstairs, and the last thing she heard was the voice of her sister saying, "Call me later with the details."

Once stashed safely inside the guest bedroom, Lindy flopped onto the bed and shoved her hands inside her pants. Her pussy was practically on fire and she needed relief as soon as possible, and her fingers delved hurriedly into her folds and strummed the swollen nub of her clit.

It did not take long.

She squealed and dumped fresh nectar over her hands as she came. It had been explosive and exhilarating, and deep in the heart of herself Lindy knew she would soon need more than just her hands could give her.

* * *

The doorbell rang for the second time that day, just a couple hours after Josie left, and so likewise for the second time, Adam went to open it.

It was a warm Sunday evening in the fall in Los Angeles and Kelsey Cartwright was dressed for it: a light pink sun dress that dropped to mid-thigh. She had an excellent body and looked very good in what she was wearing, which was par for the Kelsey course. Her luscious bounty of red hair rolled off her head in cascading waves of fire and her brown eyes sparkled.

She did not wait for him to speak, but swept past him into his apartment, a lovely gourmand scent trailing after her and assaulting his senses. She spun on her heels and stared pointedly at him, eyes flashing.

"You fucked Tiffany," she said flatly. She was never one to mince words.

Adam smiled. "It's nice to see you, too, Kelsey," he said politely as he closed the door behind her, "and you already know the answer to that question."

Kelsey appraised him without subtlety of any kind. "She enjoyed it," the woman stated.

"Yes," he said with a grin, "I'd heard that, too."

Kelsey said, "I'm married."

"Yes," Adam replied, and this time there was no humor in his voice.

"It seems I'm married to a walking penis."

"Yes," Adam repeated.

"You're a very handsome man, Adam," she said, and for the first time her voice was softer. "Handsome and kind, and she loved you very much."

And so, as they always seemed to do, things returned to Jocelyn. "Yes," he said again, tightly.

Kelsey nodded once, very slightly, and moved forward until her body was mere inches from his. Adam had not moved one bit the whole of their talk and remained motionless. "Did you think I would come?" she asked as she cocked her head inquisitively, and when he nodded, and she added, quietly, "Are you happy I've come?"

Adam thought about that for a long moment, and with a sigh answered, "Of course, because I'm a man. But Jocelyn would be happy for the right kinds of reasons."

And in that moment the face of Kelsey Cartwright, who was always etched in icy steel and well-composed, was softer around the eyes and more vulnerable than he had ever remembered or ever heard about, and those beautiful brown pools looked deeper than he had ever known or expected them to be.

"Take me," she whispered.

And her lips parted and she leaned into him, and her luscious breasts pressed against him as her head titled up in a silent request that was more plea than anything, and her eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. It was completely unexpected and incredibly alluring, and Adam knew then that—while the two were best of friends and similar in so many ways—as a lover, she would be as different from Tiffany as night was from day.

Adam leaned down and tasted the lips of Kelsey Cartwright for the first time. They were full and rich and warm, and the feel of her tongue as it brushed his was electrifying. It held none of the passion and frenzy that came with Tiffany, but much of the sort of sensual togetherness that he experienced with Jocelyn, if without the deeper layer of love.

The kiss lasted for several minutes as they explored mouths, content not to touch and tease their bodies yet but allow for the experience to take them there when ready. Kelsey, it could easily be said now by Adam from personal contact, was an incredible kisser.

And then the dam broke and the woman-in-need emerged, and in the next instant Kelsey's hands were all over his body. His shirt was gone and her fingers were tracing the muscles of his back, the strong biceps of his arms, and the flat of his abdomen. Her lips left his mouth and moved to his chest, where they licked and suckled his skin and nipples with an almost reckless abandon.

And then she broke away, chest heaving as she panted for breath, eyes flashing with dangerous lust, and wordlessly her hands went to the soft cloth of her dress. With fluid motion she stripped the light pink garment up and over her head, exposing her naked body to his admiring gaze. She was not wearing a bra or panties—clearly, she came prepared—and the shock of suddenly seeing her naked had every bit of its intended consequence upon him, and his loins.

Kelsey smiled at the look of awe on his face and stepped back two paces to where the door to his bedroom was. She pressed herself against the frame, posing for him as she moved her willowy body this way and that, never releasing her eyes from his.

Adam enjoyed the glorious view: perfectly rounded pear-shaped breasts; flat stomach and thin waist with smooth, flawless skin; round hips above a pair of long, lean, lovely legs; and the flaming swath of curls where those legs met, the red hairs so fine as to be translucent. There was another smile on her face now, a new and different smile, the kind that spoke of coyness only lovers can share—and with her hand beckoning him, they would soon cross that boundary.

"Clothes, please, Adam," she purred, and her voice oozed like purest honey.

His jeans followed his shirt to the floor, and in moments he was against her again, their naked bodies pressed together, her breasts squished into his chest, his stiffness pressed into her belly. With his arms around her shoulders his hands caressed the small of her back as hers clutched his rump, and together they lumbered, lips locked again and unbroken, into the bedroom.

Kelsey took charge and shoved Adam back; he fall in a heap on the bed, sprawled out on his back. She stood over him with her hands on her hips, a fire-haired goddess with golden brown skin and wild brown eyes, breasts swaying as she sucked in ragged breaths, the slickness between her legs catching the small bit of light in the dim room to shine invitingly.

She moved over him, but Adam had different ideas: his hands lashed out and grabbed her, and flipped her over in one quick motion so that she was pinned on her back beneath him, struggling against his embrace.

"Hey!" the gorgeous woman cried, but her cry was muffled as his lips set about devouring her.

She responded by enthusiastically trying to baste the inside of his mouth with her tongue, and the frenzy that resulted nearly took what remained of Adam's breath. It was one of the fiercest make-out sessions of his life.

He tore himself away after long moments and dipped his head to feast upon her breasts, suckling the nipples as his fingers kneaded the swollen flesh. She moaned and squirmed as he worshipped them, alternating between the two, crushing them, sucking them, teasing them, nibbling them.

And then he went lower still, across the flat span of her stomach and over the silken swath of red to the saturated pink beneath. His tongue lapped up the juices he found there even as he sank one of his fingers to the second knuckle inside the oven-hot tunnel of her pussy.

Kelsey moaned and her back arched sharply, thrusting her wonderful breasts into the air, as his tongue went to work on her, assaulting her swollen clitoris. His fingers withdrew and plunged back inside suddenly, and his fingertip tickled the inner walls once returned.

While Kelsey was most certainly a different kind of lover than Tiffany, the one thing they shared was verbosity. Her moans turned to whispers as she begged for him to make her cum.

"Right there," she quavered, "oh yes, oh yes, don't stop, oh please, don't stop, right there, make me cum, make me cum, Adam, please oh please oh please ohppllllleeeeeeeaaaassseeee!"

The beautiful thing about vocal lovers is the knowledge—apart from trembling limbs—that climax has arrived, and as the low-pitched moans transformed into high-volume squeals, Adam knew beyond the twitching of her slick pink folds and the trembling of her legs that Kelsey was cresting into wicked orgasm.

And then her sweet sex nectar gushed forth and into his mouth, and Adam knew she was at the heights of pleasure—yet still he was not satisfied, wanting to give her more.

He kept his lips affixed to her puffy labia and suckled her even as his tongue continued to bathe her folds and clit through the heart of her climax, and his ministrations ensured that instead of coming down from the heights, he sent her quivering body hurtling towards another plane of pleasure, this one even higher than the one before.

And as the tingling that had never fully receded from her first orgasm built again, the sounds Kelsey made became less and less coherent. Her shrieks lost all semblance to the normal course of language and devolved into manic whispers, high-pitched squeals, whimpers, and grunts.

"Ahhh! Aiiiieee! Ooohhhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhh! Aii! Aiii! Ooaaahhhh! Aiii! Ahhh! Aiiiieeee!"

And when her body was trembling more violently than it had at any previous point, such that the soft and fine hairs of fire-engine red above the region he was attacking began to tickle his nose from all the movement, Adam decided it was time to finish her.

Even as his tongue jack-hammered against her clitoris, his lips wrapped around the swollen nub and suckled feverishly that spot like a babe at its mother's breast, bearing down upon Kelsey's erogenous zone in a way quite unlike she had ever before experienced. Her mind was an untenable mess of pleasure-induced hysteria: she could not think enough to speak or move, her body acting and responding purely at its basest instinctual level.

And then she came again and the wailing began.

It began in the depths of her, that purest place of the female body where pleasure is first recognized as pleasure and the message is sent to all nerve endings. Only in this instance, instead of a little flurry of gunfire as with normal orgasm, it was like a grenade had been detonated within her. Every nerve and conductor and receptacle sang in unison with the unbridled intensity of inescapable climax and her body, overloaded, almost ceased to function properly.

Kelsey screamed and the world heard it.

At least, everyone in the world but Adam himself.

As her pleasure crested again and the climax exploded within her, the supple thighs of the luscious redhead clamped down like a vice on the sides of his head, effectively muting all sound. It was so quiet, in fact, that Adam could hear the pulsating beat of his own heart. Then her hands lashed out and grappled for the back of his head, and fiercely shoved his face harder into her sex as the glorious waves of orgasm crashed over her. Buckets of juice poured over his face, smearing his cheeks and trickling down his chin.

It took some time for her to come down from the heights she reached with the second of her back-to-back orgasms, and so finally Adam raised his head and looked down upon what his mouth had wrought. The grimace on Kelsey's face gave the appearance of significant pain as she whimpered through labored breaths. Her limbs quivered as she rolled to her side and curled her knees up to her chest. The lips of her pussy were still twitching. There were tears on her cheeks.

And then her eyes popped open and turned slowly to meet his own, and Adam saw more fire flashing in them then he had even seen in her before, a ferocity in her eyes that was startling, even frightening—and then Kelsey Cartwright vaulted up and slapped him full across the face.

"You've ruined me," she hissed.

What followed next happened so fast, Adam still has no clear idea how it was accomplished: the fire-haired vixen sprung upward and forward, bounding utterly on top of him, and in doing so managed, somehow, to straddle him and impale herself to the hilt on all seven inches of his cock.

The tightness was indescribable, the warmth and wetness unbelievable, and the sum of the whole inconceivably pleasurable.

Kelsey was like a woman deranged as she rocked her hips back and forth, actively working them up and down his rigid column. Her eyes were wild and flashing, her head thrashing, her hair a virtual forest fire whipping around her head. Her perfect breasts bounced and jiggled as her body moved, rippling upwards, twisting and shaking as she rose and fell, slamming her ass down upon him and rebounding like a trampoline.

His head was spinning as she fucked, harder and more wildly than he had ever been fucked in that position before, with more reckless abandon than even Tiffany nights before. He sucked in air, gasping, as she beat at his chest with her fists, pummeling him as she screamed and wailed at the top of her lungs. His cock was on absolute fire.

And then she stopped, just as suddenly as the whole thing had begun, settling the whole of her weight upon him. Her eyes still flashed, but there was a peculiar sort of calm to the wildness found there, and this was much more of the Kelsey he was used to seeing—which somehow only increased Adam's anticipation.

"Hold still," she whispered, as if he planned on going somewhere.

She lifted her hips and began to move, twisting her body around while keeping the tip of his cock still inside her, until she finally resettled 180 degrees from where she began, situated upon him in the reverse cowgirl manner. Adam gazed at the sleek track of her spine, tapering down and flaring into a pair of lusciously rounded cheeks—it was a sight to see, beautiful and alluring, and one of his favorites, truth be told.