Dindi Pt. 03

Dindi. I mouthed the name, testing it on my lips. But it was his nickname. It belonged to his tongue. "They're my father's." I confessed, and felt the familiar sting of longing I had anytime I thought of Pappa. "He was German."

Travis's eyes dropped a little at the corners and his smile vanished. "I'm sorry." He said knowingly.

The teaspoon in my cup was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. I remembered with a painful vivacity, my father had eyes just as clear blue as Travis's were.

"I was 9. All my memories of him are blurred." And I was afraid I'd lose them all together one day.

An incredible warmth engulfed my hand that rested on the table and I looked up to see -and feel- Travis clasping his fingers around mine; His pale and long, and mine thin and dark. He seemed to be lost in some memory, and I saw a shadow of the same sadness I felt on his face. He could tell my father was dead by the tone of my voice alone. Had he lived through the same experience? I was about to ask him of his father when he spoke.

"And you mother?"

Maybe he didn't want to talk about it, so I let it go. I really shouldn't even be trying to uncover all of his secrets. It was supposed to be about sex, not learning every bloody thing about him. Except that, the more we talked, the more I wanted to talk. Despite being well aware of the danger knowing presented, I was all too willing to answer his inquiries.

"My mother is very much English, but she's black. This is all hers." The sadness I felt when I thought of my dad was replaced by sheer happiness when I thought of mom; I missed her so much it hurt. I wound a loose curl around my finger, thinking of my mother's own stubborn curly hair. Travis looked at me like I was the most fascinating creature in the world. "Pappa taught German Literature at the university and she was his student. He waited until she graduated to ask her out. His name was Mirko and he was 16 years her senior." I caught myself, smiling and swallowing the lump in my throat. I'd gotten carried away and was talking too much. Magnificent job for someone who claimed she didn't want to dive in too deep.

"Do you look like her?" Travis asked.

I smiled when I recalled the day a man in the grocery shop had asked us if we were sisters. "I'm the spit image of her, actually."

"Then your father was a smart man."

Wow. Travis Keegan, flattery will get you far. Probably far inside me...

"He was." I lowered my eyes to my cup again, trying to recall what he looked like from my memories alone, but failing at it. All I had were the eyes. Tender blue eyes. Just like the ones staring at me from across the little cafe table.

I felt Travis's soft lips kissing the thin skin on the inside of my wrists. I crossed my legs under the table, pressing my thighs firmly together. I could feel the moisture gathering.

"What are you doing in NY?" He asked, his warm breath condensing over my skin.

I tried to remember how to speak. But the only thing my tongue seemed to remember was what kissing him felt like.

"Teaching." I responded under the little breath I had.

I felt his smile on my hand and his lips brushing against it. He closed his eyes, as if delighting himself with that simple touch. My whole body was concentrated on my hand, where his lips touched. I squeezed my thighs harder, torn between pulling my hand back, and throwing myself at him. I bit my lip hard enough to almost draw blood. Travis's eyelids fluttered open. I marvelled at how clear blond his eyelashes were. From afar they were almost invisible, colourless.

"Teaching what?" There was the slightest hint of a grin on his lips. He knew what he was doing to me. Just as he had known the night before.

Imagine when he fucks you properly, Mo. Gee had said, and I had imagined it. Countless times.

My brain only worked to process the sensitive information it was receiving from my hand. If he didn't stop touching me my entire body would dissolve.

"Art history." I mentally counted to five, straightened myself on my stool, and pulled my hand back.

I saw something like disappointment cross his features, but then his eyes became a bit brooding.

"Last night, when-"

"How old are you, Travis?" My tongue worked faster and I cut him off. No talks about last night yet.

No talking about how good his fingers felt on my pussy.

No talking about how I came on those fingers.

No talking about how much I had loved it and how much I wanted more.

Because if we started on the last night topic, I was sure I would climb over the table and rip his trousers off.

He pursed his lips and shook his head infinitesimally. "I'm 35." He said, his voice even and cool. "Well, actually I'm still 34. I'll be 35 in two months."

I smiled at that. He'd thought I was younger when I thought he was older. It wasn't that he looked older, exactly. He had little wrinkles around his eyes, which I presently attributed to the frequency of his smiles. Still, there was something about him, in his eyes. It seemed to me he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. As if he'd seen a lot and wanted to forget some of it.

"Really? I would have thought you were older." I admitted.

"Do I look that bad?" He asked in mock offence.

"Oh, no! Of course not! You just seem to be older. There is something about you. You kind of look like someone who's seen a lot. Experienced, I mean." I told him sincerely.

He smiled a smile not quite as amused as the others. "Yeah. Well, maybe you'll come to my party." It wasn't really a question.

"Will there be chocolate cake? I'll go if you promise me there will be chocolate cake." I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Things were becoming way too intense for me.

"There will be anything you like, Dindi." His voice was a little absent as those eyes pierced through any resistance I still had.

What it did to me when he called me Dindi... I thought it a funny name, Gin Gee. Wherever had he come up with that?

"Where did you come up with that name? Dindi?" I asked to satisfy my curiosity, planting my elbows on the wooden table and resting my cheek on my crossed hands. If I didn't watch myself, next thing I'd be battering my eyelashes at him. "Sounds like the name of a cow your grandma owned."

He laughed again; a real, heartfelt laugh, even throwing his head back and making something flutter in my stomach. I could pat myself on the back for making him laugh like that.

Congratulations, Morena. A gorgeous, hot man thinks you're funny.

"It's the name of a song." He said, breathless.

"Hum?" What kind of song was that now?

"You've never heard it?" There was a trace of incredulity in his voice and I felt a little uncultured. Which I absolutely wasn't.

"Nope." I confessed.

He smiled one of his sexy smiles. The kind that made me want to run my tongue over his lips.

"Well, it's kind of old. It was playing in the elevator that day I saw you."

That day he saw me. As if I could've paid attention to anything but him and his smiles and his eyes that day. "I didn't pay attention." Because I couldn't have.

Triumph, I supposed, made a corner of his lip quirk up. Of course Travis knew I had felt the massive sexual tension that dominated the air inside that elevator. He reached for his phone, lying on the table, but I put my hand over his, stopping him.

"Sing it for me." I couldn't tell what on earth made me say that, but I did.

"What?" Travis looked at me like I was green martian.

I had made my bed, already...

"Come on. You know it, don't you?"

He chuckled, a bit taken aback. "Yeah, I know it. But I'm a shy singer."

My eyes fell to his lips. "I don't mind." I said. His lips were so soft. How could such thin lips be so soft? "If you're so shy you can sing it just for me." The boldness that overtook me was scary. "Here." I pointed to my ear.

I had invited Travis Keegan to sing me a song- whisper me a song- into my ear. That when I had a hard time dealing with a kiss on my hand. The irony.

"Alright! You asked for it!" He threw his hands up as if he had just lost a battle, when he hadn't even fought me.

He moved his stool closer until he was beside me, dangerously close. I felt his breath before his touch. A long cold finger put a loose curl behind my ear and I felt the beginnings of a shiver coming over my spine, raising the little hairs on my arms. Then he kissed my earlobe and just like that I was aware of how embarrassingly wet I was. He drew in a deep breath and, when he started to sing, I had to grip the edges of my stool to keep myself from melting into him.

"Oh, Dindi, if I only had words I would say all the beautiful

Things that I see when you're with me, oh my Dindi."

My Dindi. His alright. My weak resolve made sure I was.

Reflexively, I shrunk my shoulder, trying to brush my ear against it, but only managed to press my temple to Travis's forehead. One of my hands let go of my stool to grip his biceps, hard and strong under my fingers.

"Don't you know, Dindi, I'd be running and searching for you like a river that

can't find the sea, that would be me without you, my Dindi."

Had I ever really thought I could resist him? How bloody stupid of me.

I turned my face, my lips already parted to meet Travis's mouth which exhaled shuddering breaths that I, in turn, inhaled. I thought he'd kiss me. I was offering myself to him, but he didn't, to my utter disappointment. An involuntary whimper escaped me when he put his thumb under my chin.

"Do you want me to kiss you, Dindi?" He asked teasingly, into my wanting mouth.

I nodded. I couldn't think of anything I wanted more. Or maybe I could...

"I like to hear you said it. You should know that by now." Just like he had wanted me to say it in his bathroom.

I want you to make me come. I had said. And I still wanted it.

"Yes." My voice was barely audible, so full of want it was embarrassing. "I want you to kiss me, Travis."

His mouth collided violently with mine, and my moan was too loud for my own ears. My tongue seemed to be fighting with his to see which one had a better claim on his mouth. I went crazy, sitting on the edge of my stool which was balanced on only two of its four legs. I felt his fingers in my hair, tangling themselves in it, my sloppy bun almost dissolving, just like the rest of my body. I felt the delicious wetness in between my legs increasing. I leaned more into him, my hand still gripping his arm for support worked its way up his neck. Just when I was about to lose any sense of propriety I still had, he pulled away. I was disoriented for several long seconds. I had lost the simple skill of breathing.

Travis's head fell to my shoulder and stayed there. His face pressing against my breasts didn't help with my trying to breath normally again. His shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing. I pressed my mouth and nose to his hair. He smelled like a man, all musky and warm. My fingers stroked his hair, not caring about disheveling his bun.

"Last night," I froze, but this time I didn't stop him. There was no point. "If George hadn't stopped you. Would you have?"

I still felt dizzy, without enough air going in my lungs "Would I have what?" I asked, to buy time, because I knew well enough what he meant.

"Stopped yourself from having sex with me."

Would I have? Fuck, no. Not in a million years. But I didn't answer him. I was afraid to.

Travis lifted his head and held my face in his hands while his impossibly blue eyes searched my brownish ones for an answer. And he saw it, clear as day. It was no good trying to hide it. He kissed me again. A soft, slow and long kiss that had me moaning deep in my throat.

"Do you still want it?" He asked hoarsely when he pulled away.

Even if I tried I couldn't elaborate an excuse creative enough to convince myself that I had accepted his invitation for a coffee wanting anything else other thanhim.

"Yes," I sighed. "Otherwise I wouldn't even be here now."

Next thing I knew I was struggling to keep up with Travis's long strides as we rushed out through the cafe's doors.

****

TRAVIS

They say expectation is better than the thing itself. I say fuck that. No expectation, not a thing in this world could feel as good as her mouth when I kissed her.

The cafe was three blocks away from my loft, and I was practically dragging Morena there. I turned to look, and she was having trouble keeping up with me. What a jerk I was being in my impatience to get her into my bed. Still, I didn't slow down, instead I put an arm around her narrow waist and another under her knees, picking her up in my arms.

"Oh!" She squealed, startled.

"You're a very slow walker." I stated, flatly.

She laughed loudly into my shoulder and I looked down at her in bewilderment. "You must really fancy me, mate." she said with a smug smile on her face.

She was light as a feather, so I was able to keep the rhythm of my steps even while carrying her whole weight. "You have no fucking idea." I replied.

I sounded stern, but the thing about it was that I was too focused on her to speak. The feel of her body so close to mine, one breast pressed against my chest, even through all those clothes layers, had me hard. Hard enough that it would be mortifying if anyone in the street took notice.

What I loved about NYC? No one gives a fuck about other people walking in the streets. Even if it's a 6'5" man with a hard on, carrying a gorgeous woman in his arms.

I stopped in front of my building door and I could've put her down, but I didn't. "The keys are in my pocket. Front pocket." I said with a smirk.

She blushed yet again but reached her hand down into my pocket, her eyes never leaving mine. They were warm brown, almost amber like old whisky, the few hints of green melting into the dominant darker color. Her fingers dug in my pocket. I groaned when I felt them brush against my hard cock. She handed me the keys, after which, I promptly opened the door.

We got inside the old freight elevator and I finally put her down. I stepped back, away from her, until my back hit the opposite elevator wall. It was my little self-imposed torture game. I wanted to touch her like I needed to breathe, I waited, though. Instead, I looked at her, already anticipating all the things I wanted to do with her and knowing that one time wouldn't be enough because I wouldn't have enough time before I exploded.

She stared back at me with a look of confusion in her eyes, but she didn't say a word. She just stood there, allowing my eyes to travel over her body. Body I would take total and complete care of in a few minutes.

Once again we were together inside an elevator. Only this time I knew I would get everything I wanted from her. Strangely, I didn't smile. I felt too worked up to smile.

Her breathing was loud enough for me to hear. Her cheeks were stained hot crimson, clearly perceptible regardless of her dark skin. The elevator stopped, and unlike last time when she had run from me, I extended my hand to her and she took it, stepping out of it with me.

She already knew where my room was, so we easily walked toward it. I pushed the door open, going in, pulling her with me. When I turned to her, she was staring at her picture. I saw it in her face that she was recalling that day, same as I. That'd been a little more than a week ago. I had bumped into her, when something in me- or rather her- made me run after her like a crazy, perverted man. Now, she was here. In my room. Ready to give herself to me.

"You're so beautiful it's ridiculous." I said, looking at the real Morena, the one made of flesh and blood. Flesh I had to touch or else I'd go insane.

I pulled her to me, and her body molded itself to mine like she was made out of plasticine. All of her soft spots framed into me as if she'd been made just for me. Just for my hands to touch and my mouth to kiss. She allowed her hands to slide down my chest, slow and exploratory, reaching between us. She settled on my obvious hard cock pressing her palm against it, then went up again, biting down a grin.

"I think you should kiss me now, Travs." She more ordered than said.

"Travs?" I laughed.

"Yeah." She stood on the tip of her toes but I still had to bend down to kiss her.

Just as it'd happened the other times I had kissed her, her tongue was insistent, demanding. I smiled into the kiss. This woman would not just take what I'd give her. She would take what I'd give and then ask for more. As I kissed her until I had her panting I realized what I had in front of me. Her whole body to discover, to uncover, and bring to life. I would get to find what makes her tick. What she likes, where she likes it, why the fuck she likes it, everything.

I broke away, not bearing to delay getting what I've been wanting for what felt like a very fucking long time. "Turn around, sweetheart." I spoke in her ear, delighted when she whimpered before turning her back to me.

She had absolutely flawless skin, as if melted chocolate had been poured over her. It took me a minute to decide where I'd begin. I pulled at the end of the little knot that kept her top together and then pulled at the one on her nape. The little piece of cloth came undone falling down to her feet.

When I pressed my mouth to the crook of her neck, she moaned, throwing her head back and offering me more. I inhaled the sweet scent of vanilla on her skin. It was intoxicating. My hands, roaming, tasted the smooth skin of her back, going up and down her spine, feeling her shiver. I let them go around her ribs until they found her breasts. They fit my hands like a glove.

My lips brushed her shoulder and I looked down to see the top of her breasts inside my hands. Her nipples were hard, pointing ahead and upwards, like two little drops of dark chocolate. My mouth watered at the thought. I brushed my thumb over them and spun her around abruptly, making her gasp when I put my mouth to one breast and my hand to the other as soon as they came into view.

"Oh, god." She moaned letting her hands get tangled in my hair. She pulled at the little rubber band holding it. I felt it fall around my face like a curtain. I stepped back until I fell seated on the edge of my bed. She stood in between my legs, her body arched toward my mouth.

I was busy flickering one hard nipple with my tongue while my other hand squeezed and massaged the other soft mount. My hand surrounded her tit completely. She didn't have small breasts, on the contrary, they were perfectly proportional, befitting her body, but it was fantastic how small she was under my hands. I bit lightly on her nipple and moved to lick and suck at the other one.

Dindi was moaning loudly, saying my name that way she did that made me want to suck the words out of her mouth

Trah-vis. She chanted, over and over again.

My hands traveled down her ribs, her hips, her legs, until they met the hem of her skirt. They went under and moved up her thighs, feeling how warm and silky her skin felt against the tips of my fingers. I was going up and up, until...I stopped, pulling my face from her breasts.

"Dindi?" I called. Her head was thrown back and she lowered it to meet my eyes. Her curls falling in front of her eyes. "Where are your panties, sweetheart?"

She gave me the most wonderful devilish grin. "I might have dismissed them for the day." She bit down her lip, naively.

I groaned and pulled a nipple between my teeth, producing another shiver on her. The thought that she had purposely not worn any panties, intending the whole time to come home with me...fuck, it drove me crazy.