Lilacs in Bloom Pt. 02

Though their love had died long before her body, Sam still found it important to him that he finish it in her memory. He felt ashamed to be moving on quickly from her death in some ways, particularly in relationships, but at the same time she was still a significant part of his life. She wouldn't be forgotten.

Even before she passed away, he privately thought that the guest bedroom was a waste of time and money and space. And, during the past few months, he considered repurposing the room. But now, his gut told him to keep it as a bedroom. Who knew if he would have guests?

He spent the day working on the wood floor of the library, setting and polishing the walnut design. The house began to smell like dust, so he opened the windows to air it out. He watched a blue jay fly across his yard while leaning over the balcony railing during a break. He smiled absent-mindedly.

Towards the end of the day, as he searched for paint colors for the library walls, Emily gave him a call. "Whatcha up to?" she asked.

"Picking out a paint for my library-in-progress. And hello, by the way."

"Hello! Can I come over?"

"Sure! I could use the company."

Thirty minutes later she walked through the front door. Sam had left it unlocked as he was finishing up the floor polish. He greeted her with a kiss, one that forced her onto her toes, but asked her to wait while he finished the floor. She did so patiently, examining the nearby rooms of the impressive but modest home.

"What do you think?" he asked after he was done.

"Looks good!" They stood on the edge, on the carpet of the adjacent room. Their voices echoed on the bare walls.

Sam washed his hands and rejoined Emily in the kitchen. He poured her a glass of water upon request. As she drank, he stared admiringly at her body; she wore a pink sports bra and black leggings combo, as if she had gone for a jog, and her cleavage and bare stomach alone was getting him excited.

"So," she started, setting her nearly empty glass on the counter, "I was hoping we could have a little fun now?"

"Right to the point, eh?"

She chuckled. "Does that bother you?"

He hesitated. "I enjoy the sex, but there's a lot about you I'd still like to get to know."

She walked up to him and grabbed his cock through his shorts, staring up at him teasingly. "That's very sweet of you." She stroked his length and he sighed. "But I have an urge I need to get out and I was hoping you could help me out?"

He took a slow breath. She batted her eyes like a little girl that acts cute just to get what she wants. Well, if she needed satisfaction... suddenly, he picked her up and flung her over his shoulder, causing her to squeal in surprise. One hand gripped her ass while the other held her thigh as he walked over to the living room. After he threw her down on the couch he saw no look of fear in her eyes, only lust.

Emily spread her legs open and expected him to join in embrace, but instead he knelt down in front of the couch and buried his face into her groin. Her breathing intensified quickly as he kissed the neighboring lands of her sex. Surprised at himself but also very turned on, he spent little time teasing before kissing her wedge directly.

"Oh!" she cried, settling her legs over his shoulders. "Rip it!"

"What?"

"Rip my leggings!" she begged. He considered it for a moment before rubbing his fingers across her pussy. Then he latched onto the seam with his fingers and pulled it apart in one large rip. Her leggings now hosted a large hole, frayed around the edges and leaving plenty of space for her womanhood to show. She had cried out "yes!" as they tore.

Little time elapsed between the rip and his mouth connecting with her labia. He wanted to give her what she wanted: hot and heavy sexual pleasure. Evidently, he was succeeding. Emily moaned and squirmed under him, her stomach pulsing and her hands in his hair. He flicked his tongue in and around her canal while he spread her apart with his fingers. His saliva meshed with her juices, quickly wetting the area around his lips and dampening his thin beard.

"Oh god! Just like that!" she cried as he stuck a finger in her and pumped it rapidly. He shifted his face up to give his hand room, and he licked her hood and sniffed her sexy hair. It was enough to make her come. "AAHHHHH!" she screamed as her orgasm overpowered her. His speed didn't slow, and his continued contact made her shoot a tiny squirt onto his chin and arm.

"YES!" she moaned, having watched and heard the liquid project out of her. That was fucking hot, he thought as he continued to finger and lick her.

It wasn't long before another orgasm hit her, this time with more force. Her pussy clamped around his fingers for a moment before expelling him and a larger amount of liquid. Sam backed up to watch it, and though it was over as quickly as it had started, the image had burned into his mind forever. Emily was left panting and repeatedly flexing her abdomen.

During this ordeal, his cock had hardened into a rod of steel. He shimmied his shorts and briefs down and knelt up, letting her see his hot tool. She gave it a few strokes with a dry hand before rubbing her fingers inside of herself and returning with the natural lube. While she jacked him off, he managed to get his bottoms all the way off, even past his shoes.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" she teased. Her expression switched to puzzlement when he didn't move.

"If you want it so bad, you better beg for it," he retorted, standing up and distancing their genitalia.

Emily bit her lip and swallowed her pride. "Stick that big cock in me." Her eyes were of pure lust. "I want it so bad!"

He knelt back down but held his cock upright. "Please!" she cried desperately. He grunted and lowered himself slightly but avoided contact.

"FUCK ME!" she begged, and finally he let his cock lay on her stomach, his balls heaving against her pussy. She moaned as he pulled his hips back and slid his tip between her lips. Her eyes were glued to his penis as she gasped with need.

Finally, he began to slide himself in. The tension, along with her orgasms, had made her more accepting of his thickness. With minor thrusts he fucked her with his first few inches, only penetrating her further after her third beg for more.

She pulled her sports bra up her body to expose her breasts. His thrusts automatically became deeper at the sight. Her areola, about the size of half-dollars, supported her hard nipples and welcomed his touch. Now he was fully penetrating her, keeping a firm hold on her breasts and conscious stare into her shimmering hazel eyes.

"Don't stop!" she cried, but at that moment he did. He was going to show her who was boss now.

He withdrew himself slowly and flipped her onto her knees. With his hands he spread her ass cheeks apart as he slid his cock back into her. Once again at a fast pace, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back with a twist. Her eyes were closed but her mouth open, a succinct moan escaping with each of his thrusts.

From this angle she was tighter, and he wanted to prolong his orgasm. He switched to longer but slower strokes, fucking her more tenderly but no less passionately. She complimented his motions with movements of her own, pulling her ass forward as he pulled back and pushing back against him as he pushed forward.

Approaching his climax, he pushed her onto her forward and down with a rough but careful strength. Now she lay on her stomach, her ass protruding up like a pair of small hills, his cock nudged in the valley between them. The pressure around his length was much stronger, and in less than twenty seconds he stiffened his movements.

"YES!" she wailed. "FILL ME UP!"

His cock exploded inside of her, sending stream after stream down her passage. He had paused with a jolt, burying himself to the base. The pleasure was unreal, unbelievable.

"Aghhh..." he groaned as he pulled himself free. Emily lay panting for a moment before turning over and examining herself.

"Holy shit," she muttered, pulling out a strand of his semen with her finger. Several strands of her hair were matted to her temple. The rise and fall of her breasts began to slow.

Sam was still erect, and when Emily noticed she licked her lips and reached out to grab him. He was still sensitive and winced upon her touch, but let it happen. Internally, he was debating what to do next. His mood had taken a sudden shift, caused by his recent surge in testosterone.

"Still hard for me this time?" she teased.

"What makes you think you deserve it?" he said sharply. He startled himself with his tone and immediately relaxed his face. Her expression turned to surprise and concern.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not a sex toy that you can call on whenever you're horny." He stood up and sighed. "I don't... I don't get it. One moment I feel like we're starting to have a connection and then another I feel like you just want my cock."

For the first time since meeting her, he noticed that she looked like she wanted to cry, but she swallowed her emotion and hid it well. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to come across that way." He looked away. "I... this is just the way I am. Sex is a casual thing for me." She stood up and walked next to him, her hand finding his shoulder. Her touch felt soothing, and he felt his tension fall away.

"I had fun at your apartment and I had fun now," he said, "but I think I want this to go in a different direction."

"A relationship? Love?"

His eyes found hers. Did he love her?

"I don't know," he said. "But I don't want to think that it can't go that way."

She tenderly rubbed his chest. "I haven't been in love in a long time... I don't know if I'm the right woman for that."

"Has sex always been casual for you?"

"Maybe not always... but yes, for most of my memory." She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I just have a very high sex drive and I get agitated if I'm not satisfied."

"Do I satisfy you?" he asked with feigned innocence. She smiled wickedly.

"More than I've ever dreamed was possible." Sensing the time was right, she gave his cock another squeeze. He turned to face her, and she began to stroke him.

"You just brought something out of me," he whispered. "A rougher side that I didn't know I had."

She grinned and kissed him, pulling his head down with her free hand. He stuck his tongue in her mouth and danced passionately with hers. While their mouths remained in contact they wobbled back to the couch.

In an instant he was on top of her, his face in her neck and his shaft grinding against her pussy. Her hands clawed at his upper back and hair; already it felt more passionate and meaningful. This was a huge turn on for him, and he wanted her desperately.

With a strategic buck of the hips, he aligned himself with her opening and pushed in with ease. His former load provided excellent lubrication, and his entire length was inside of her in the blink of an eye. Her face did the speaking this time, and his answer was to bury his face in her skin and fuck her passionately.

No words, only moans, were voiced by either of them. He found her lack of dirty talk and begging surprisingly thrilling, as though her pleasure was now beyond her intended fulfillment. It amazed him that he felt like he could come any instant, for it hadn't even been ten minutes since his last orgasm.

They remained in this position the entire time, enjoying the sincerity and coziness of it. It wasn't about being sexy or giving visual appeal; it was primal, and it was about being together.

When he came inside her again, she too came with a powerful, body-wide clench. Her nails dug into his skin and her legs clamped around his rear. They rode out the pleasure, its power increased by their mutual wave. When it was done, he remained inside and on top of her for several minutes.

Neither of them said anything until Sam pushed himself up. Their sweat had caused their skin to stick together, and the parting of their contact left them feeling cold.

"Don't worry, I still like it rough," he said. She exhaled a short laugh and gazed into his eyes. He saw a change in them.

"Wow," he continued, kneeling back and watching his semen drip ooze between her parted labia, down her moist skin, and onto the couch. "I think a shower is in question." She nodded, and he smiled. "You're awfully quiet," he observed.

"I'm just... I'm happy," she whispered.

He was unable to suppress a wide grin. "Let's get washed up." He picked her up and walked upstairs to the shower, careful not to bang her on any walls or doorways. He set her gently on the toilet and got the water running while she urinated. When she was done, she joined him in the shower. There was enough space in there for a party, with a bench along one wall. They took turns washing each other; for once, they didn't seem to require excessive sexual touching (although they still found pleasure in washing the entirety of each other's bodies).

"I'd like to stay in for another moment," she said as Sam stepped out. He nodded and left her alone, drying off and changing into a fresh set of clothes. While Emily finished washing up, he searched Amy's side of the closet for something she could wear home, since ripped yoga pants would attract a lot of unwanted looks. It was odd, searching through Amy's things, but they would otherwise remain unused.

Emily had walked out of the bathroom just as Sam had laid out some options on the bed. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I'm glowing," she said. The towel dropped to the floor after she ensured she was dry. "What's this?" she asked in reference to the clothes.

"Reimbursement for your leggings. I hope something fits."

"These were Amy's?" she asked.

"Yes. If that you're not comfortable with that, we can find something else."

"No, it's fine. I was just wondering." She surveyed the four options she had laid out, and Sam watched her from behind admiringly. To his surprise, she ended up going with a coral pink summer dress with a white floral design.

"I figured you were more casual than that," he said, glancing at the other things he had picked out, which included plain shirts and sweats.

"This is casual," she said, putting it on and showing off her body as she tied the back. The bottom fell past her knees and her cleavage was generous between the loose fabric. "What do you think?"

"You look incredible," he said dreamily.

"It won't quite match my shoes, but I think I have some sandals at home that will." She gave him a kiss on the cheek, which made his heart flutter. "Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome." He kissed her back on her lips, bringing her to her toes. Upon release she inhaled deeply, and her eyes twinkled at his.

"I think I should go," she said suddenly. "I want to get back to working on a painting."

"Okay," he said with noticeable disappointment.

"I had a fun time. Really, this was... nice." She smiled at him genuinely. "I didn't expect to be treated so nicely... nor so roughly." Her smile turned wicked at the end of her statement.

"I enjoyed it too," he agreed earnestly. He showed her out, giving her a plastic bag for her original outfit. "I'll see you Saturday?"

"Yes! I'm very excited. Though I know it's more of a social thing than a time for fun." She eyed his pants.

"It's a time for both," he said firmly. She laughed and they both said goodbye as he led he showed her out. He watched her go until she was well out of sight, thinking that the dress looked damn good on her.

***

The phone was in her hand. Never before had she hesitated to call Rose, or even Josh for that matter; but tonight, Emily considered not calling either of them.

Her afternoon with Sam was something else. It began exactly how she had intended it to, and the sex was incredible. Craving satisfied, checked the box. But that second round... that had given her a pleasure she could not recall feeling before. One that wasn't physical.

In the darkness she lay, naked except for her underwear and bundled under a blanket. The television was the sole source of light; a Food Network cooking competition was on, but the volume was so low it might as well have been muted. On evenings like this- evenings where she felt something- it was this quiet and blue-lit environment where she found a haven.

She thought of Sam. Of his tight body, his large muscles, his huge cock. But what scared her was his big heart. She feared a man with a heart because she was in denial of her own.

The summer dress that she had been given was draped over the armchair. Her nudity was partly due to a sudden sense of panic after receiving such a gift. In the moment it was lovely, but in the aftermath, it was a symbol of romance: something she previously chose to live without. She wasn't meant for that kind of connection. She was a misfit, a letdown, a failure of genetics. Romance would only lead to disappointment.

***

Kim awoke Thursday morning to an empty house. Empty except for a foreign bottle of mascara. A brand she did not use, and a bottle that clearly belonged to someone that Greg cheated on him with.

Yesterday would have been the perfect opportunity. She had taken Nick to the store to buy a new video game, and then to dinner at Five Guys. When they had arrived home, Greg had acted stressed, as though he had narrowly gotten away with something. The next moment he was out of the house, practically speeding down the street. Now, holding the bottle in her hand, she had basically confirmed it.

Her anger began to build like a tornado; everything in the house sparked a memory of her cheat of a husband, and with each memory her arteries throbbed harder. She felt hot, but not the kind that you can cool off with a glass of water. How long she stood there, squeezing the mascara, she didn't know.

She called Stephanie and then, of all people, Sam, but neither answered, and Kim didn't feel like leaving a message.

What did she ever do to him, the bastard? She had been a good wife: faithful, supportive, caring, and not to mention beautiful. Or had she not been? She couldn't find evidence in the library of her thoughts for a good reason he would be cheating on her.

There was one thing to do. Yep, only one thing. She would find more evidence and use his adultery to file for divorce and gain as much of the fucker's money as she could, as well as the rights to Nick. If there was one thing Greg didn't deserve, it was to call the boy his son when she had done all of his raising.

Without eating breakfast, she stormed into her car and set a GPS to her husband's office. That was how little he had invited her there, even for office parties. The twenty-minute drive to the city only gave her time for her thoughts to soak into her mind, burying themselves under every memory and prediction. Upon arrival, she suddenly realized that she didn't have a plan and parked in a nearby public garage to think for a moment.

What was she going to do, barge in and shout at him? Ask him about his other lovers, in front of a crowd? No, she needed to be discreet. She needed to see him in his natural habitat.

She put on a pair of black sunglasses and checked the mirror to see if she was still red with anger (thankfully, she was not). After a brief and brisk walk to the building entrance, she scoped out the front door before thinking that it was silly to expect Greg to not be up several floors and wherever his office was.

Inside, she caught the security guard's eyes lingering on her chest after he said hello. Maybe she would have smiled or flirted if she hadn't been so pissed off.

"Can I help you?" asked the front desk lady, a young and attractive brunette. She was wearing a white blouse buttoned all the way up to her chin. Kim nearly scoffed at the thought that Greg may have unbuttoned that exact blouse, or maybe the blouse of every woman in the building...