Leave the Night On Pt. 02

All I want is to yank his pants down, lift my skirt and guide his gloriously hard cock inside me. But I can't. I can't jump headfirst into this without knowing precisely what this is. I can't risk a casual affair with the parent of one of my kids without laying the risks bare and having the assurance, from him, that we're doing this fully aware of its dangerous stupidity.

I splay my hands on his hard chest. His heart is thundering under my palms. "Wait. Wait." Immediately, he withdraws.

"What's wrong?" His face is twisted in worry. Like he might've done something wrong. Touched me wrong.

I cup his carved, smooth jaw in my palms. "I like you, Julian," I say, panting.

The tense lines on him vanish, a cocky little smirk appearing instead. "Yeah?"

I inhale. Exhale. This is the scary part. The part where I acknowledge, in the dark depths where my insecurities dwell, that I'm afraid he might run because of what I say next. Because of what it means. "I like you, but I love my job. If word got out that I'm involved with a parent, I could be fired. I would be fired. And there's Hannah too. This thing between us would confuse her." I expect him to pull away from me, but he listens intently, body still flush against mine.

He looks over my shoulder, to nothing in particular. Then he says, eyes finding mine, "So what you're saying is...?"

"That I want to do this. In spite of everything." I wait a beat. Two. "You?" I almost cringe at the diffidence in my own voice.

Julian holds my face in both of his big hands, stares right into my wide, anxious eyes. The heat that emanates from him melts my stupid fears. "You have any doubt?"

My relief is such, I sag a little. "No."

Seeing I'm still a little nervous, he says, "Pearl. You just tell me how you want to go. You want it slow; I'll take it slow. You want it fast; I'll be more than happy to oblige." He tilts my chin up with his thumbs, so his full grinning mouth is on my eyeline. "And I'll try not to drool over my kid's hot teacher at school. Though it's going to be tough."

"Thank you." He is such a sweet pea I'm almost asking for fast. Fast and hard and sweaty. Right. Now.

He kisses me softly once. "How about this," he says, drawing back only enough so he can speak. "Every Friday night Hannah stays with my mother. What if we made this a weekly thing? I could impress you with my cooking and you would have an excuse to ogle me that way you like. No one has to know you're crazy about me. We keep it quiet for now."

For now. I hang onto those words, but don't search for further meaning in them. "God forbid anyone knows how crazy you make me."

"What do you say then?" He presses. "Reserve me your Friday nights?"

I ponder on his offer, though I don't really need to. My hands on his chest ride up to fiddle with the hair on the back of his head. "I would have to be crazy to refuse an offer to eat your cooking weekly."

He plasters his smile to my mouth, kissing me again. Deeply, slowly, softly. Sealing our agreement. "Tell me a secret," he drops, out of the blue. "Come on, don't make me flirt it out of you."

He has to know he can flirt me out of anything. My clothes especially. But I've shared too much already. "You first."

He glances down, hooks a finger to the thin strap of my top. "It was not by a complete coincidence that we've met again."

I draw back a little. "Elaborate, please?"

Julian braces his hands on the marble counter behind me. "A couple of months ago, I woke up this one-day randomly thinking of you. I decided to go back to that club, thought I might find you there by some lucky strike. Of course, you weren't there, but the bartender was still the same. He remembered me. Us. I told him I'd lost you and had nothing that would help me find you except for your first name. The guy took pity on me, I guess. He gave me the name printed on your credit card. Said he remembered you because you were so pretty and always smiled at him." At this, he gave me a flirtatious smirk. "Pearl M Jones. I googled you. There are a shit ton of Pearls out there, you know. I found one Pearl Marie Jones who worked as a teacher at the Isherwood Elementary School. I thought that had to be a sign...Yeah, well I'm into that stuff. It was too much of a coincidence for you to be a teacher right when Hannah was getting into first grade."

"I was late for Meet The Teacher Day because I was so sure you'd be that Pearl Marie Jones I stalled in my car for two hours, thinking of what I'd say if it really turned out to be you. But I knew in my gut it'd be you. I just knew it."

I'm gaping at him. The disbelief stamped on my face must be why he's looking at me so apprehensively. I open my mouth. Close it. I can't believe him. "You stalled for two hours thinking of what to say and what you came up with was 'Guess I'll be a teasing asshole because that's gonna work?'"

"I guessed you'd probably be pissed at me. And you were."

"With reason."

Something like shame flutters over his perfect features. "Yeah."

"Wow. I'm flattered." A smile that begins slowly takes over my whole face. I like it a lot. My ego is a helium balloon. This is the moment I realize how unfunded my worries are. He's the one who invited me here. He's the one who made me dinner. He's the one who found me. If anyone wants to do this, that's him.

Julian yanks my attention fully back to him when he winds one of my loose curls around his index finger. "Your turn," he says. "A secret for a secret."

Enough of my pride glossing over my want for his touch. Enough of self-doubt. We both know where we stand now. Emboldened by his confession, I make one of my own. "I've been having this dream about you almost every night.".

His eyes instantly darken. "Tell me."

"You got in between my thighs," I say, and he wedges closer. I run my fingers through his silken hair. He tilts his head back, his eyelids flutter closed. I can't resist skimming my lips all over the strong, smooth column of his neck. "You were so mean," I say, nibbling at his skin. "You wouldn't stop no matter how much I begged you to."

He moans, a hand going under my pleated skirt, riding up my thighs. A finger hooks into the leg of my panties. I tremble as a knuckle grazes over the wetness on my pussy when he pulls the fabric to the side. His head falls back down. "Show me," he commands in a hoarse whisper. I slid a hand between us, to where his own hand is waiting for guidance. "What else?"

I cover his hand with mine and lead it to where I want it most. The shock of that first, light touch of his cold finger over my warmth has me gasping. "You were down there for such a long time I worried you might go out of breath." My voice is strained with lust.

He purrs in my ear, rubs his jaw against my neck. "That's because you taste so damn good."

We move together. It's hard to tell who guides who. Julian's mouth swallows my whimpers of pleasure as we slide our fingers up and down, up and down, teasing my clit with every stroke. I cry out against his kiss. Involuntarily and carelessly, I'm demanding he touches me a little harder. I press his fingers down on me with the weight of my own. Because he knows what I need, he frees his hand from my control and finds my entrance. He teases at my folds, going in circles until I squirm, pleading with him with louder moans. He inserts one heavenly finger in, then another. I throw my head back, surrendered to the feeling of having some of him inside me. Although not what I need. Not yet.

I focus outside, on the pulsing, knotted bundle of pleasure that is my clit, while Julian's fingers are in. Pumping into me. I find myself trying to ride his hand, on the tips of my toes. However, it is a hopeless search. As much as I chase the feeling, my release seems to run from me. I need more.

With my free hand, I frantically unbutton his jeans, only enough to sneak a hand inside his boxers. Then I feel him. His dick, hot, hard and ready on my hand.

"Yes," he growls, just as short of breath as I am. "Did you come when you thought of me in between your legs?" He asks, fingers pumping into me relentlessly, while my hand, wrapped around his cock, works it up and down with a firm grip.

"God, yes. Three times," I breathe. And just remembering the things I've imagined him doing to me has me grabbing him tighter.

His groan is so delicious it works like a caress down my spine. "I wonder if we can make it four."

My next helpless noise is interrupted by his mouth taking control of mine. Julian goes wild. Before I even have time to think, he yanks my hand away from his pants, pulls his own fingers from within me and hoisters me up the marble surface of the kitchen isle.

My lower lip throbs as his teeth sinks down and pulls. I find the hem of his shirt, and I lift it, exposing skin I need to touch or else I'll lose it. I squeeze my thighs against his ribs, trapping him between my legs so that he can never flee and rob me of the feel of his body. He trails a path of licks and bites along the side of my neck. He slides the strap of my top down my shoulder with his teeth. His fingers scraping at the transitional line dividing skin from cloth. The knots of his knuckles brush against the top of my breasts as he yanks my top down, violently revealing my pebbled nipples to his hungry eyes.

I'm about to explode into smithereens. A million tiny lights flicker in me. His tongue darts out, hot and wet, flat over one aching nipple. I curve into his mouth, wailing in agony. I want teeth, tongue and lips. Everything I'm allowed. His lips close around my breast, sucking. He gently pushes me back, and I lay down, back flat on the cold marble. I lift my head to look down. Along my body, Julian's head is buried in my breasts. My chest is heaving, his own breaths come out outpaced. I arch off at the sensation of having his open mouth on my stomach, his moist breaths going down, his tongue dipping into my navel.

He's ferocious but also gentle as he parts my legs, kisses up my inner thighs. Teasing, he bites, hard enough to leave a mark. He wants to leave a mark. I know his intention is to have me remembering he was there when I see the purple circle of his teeth on my skin later. I'm completely and utterly surrendered to him. Egoistically taking what he's giving me. The callouses on his palms scratch my thighs as they crawl up. He reaches my panties, rolls them down so slowly even the lacy fabric smoothing over goosebumps feels good.

Julian is giving me, in reality, the fantasy that's been plaguing my nights. Even knowing it's coming, even with anticipation seizing by body, I'm not ready for his mouth on my pussy. I buckle and twist, almost howling at the first sweep of his tongue against my folds. I hear, and feel, his chuckle. It is a vibration that only turns up the dial on my pleasure center. He teases. Tongue going around and round, never quite where I'm craving it. Until he latches on to my engorged, waiting clit. He sucks on it like he belongs there. Like it's home. My hands are on his hair, pulling it, bringing him against my pussy. I must be hurting him, rubbing myself all over his face, but his sounds tell me the contrary. The brutal rumbles coming from him are felt through the whole of me. I never have to ask him for anything, he doesn't need directions. I don't have that half satisfaction that compels me to move or nudge him to the right spot. He knows where he must go, where to linger, where to be rough.

My synapses only fire where he licks me. Now and then, he rises to the surface, to gasp for air. The soft skin of his face brushes hungrily, but delicately, against my thighs. Soon he's diving again. Back to building up the incessant need that will explode any second.

The heat of his mouth coaxes my essence out. He's sipping from me like on ripe fruit. The more his tongue seeks, the more I give. A slow sweep over the slit of my entrance, a press against my clit and I cry out for mercy because I tell him to stop, and I hope he knows it means I never want it to stop. He doesn't stop. My nails search for a place to claw, to hold onto only to find the shiny and cool surface of marble. Body arching off, I seek more even as it wants to run away from the overwhelming pleasure. My pussy pulses once. Again. Julian exhales long and heavy against the sensible skin he doesn't stop teasing. And when his tongue dips down, and then up again right against the tip, that most sensible spot on my clit, I scream. It's his name. Raw, loud and agonizing. My whole-body twists in knots when I loosen up and explode. I come once but he doesn't stop. I come again. Again. Hot tears run down the side of my face, into my hair. I'm begging him to stop because it's too much, I'm going to die from the pleasure. I'm already sore, swollen.

With a last kiss pressed into me, Julian releases me. My hold on his head is limp. The strands of his hair run in between my fingers like river water. He pulls me to him until I'm seated, I'm shaking uncontrollably. He holds me steady. Kisses me.

His face is red, bruised. His hair disheveled. I marvel at his swollen, glistening lips. Lips that now smell and taste like my fluid lust. "As I said." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands. "Tastes so damn good."

I can't answer him, too stupid to even think.

He grins at my inability to function. "You okay, My Pearl?"

I'm perfect. I'm fantastic. I'm god-damn invincible right now. But I can't move. "I don't think I can drive with these legs," I croak, burying my nose in the crook of his neck.

He kisses me softly, transferring my taste from his tongue to mine. "I'll get you some chocolate mousse. You'll need energy for round two."

***