Runner Girl Ch. 09

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John had dismissed Leonard for the day, so after saying good night to William, he took a cab over to Amy's. He hadn't expected to see her since she had an appointment with her therapist. John expected the Saturday night fiasco to be analyzed during therapy, and the thought unsettled him. He paused at the bottom of her stoop, bracing himself for a heavy discussion. It was going to be his first time inside her building. He wished the circumstances were better. After he texted his arrival, Amy came down to meet him at the door.

She greeted him with a reassuring hug and kiss, then led him up the three flights of stairs to her front door. "It's going to seem really tiny to you." She crinkled her nose and apologized before letting him in.

And tiny it was. Tiny, tidy, ultra-feminine, and full of organized clutter. John realized he could span the one-room apartment in five steps, followed by the disturbing thought This is where it happened.

"So," Amy said with a grin, as she plopped down on her fluffy bed, across from John, who took the loveseat. "I guess you are wondering what I want to talk to you about." She wore jeans and a sweater that hung off one shoulder and pulled her knees close to her chest, as she continued. "I saw my therapist tonight."

"And told her about Saturday, I'm sure." John said, filled with dread.

"Of course."

"And?"

"Well, she actually thought Keith acted like a complete jerk, totally out-of-line, but that wasn't the main topic of our conversation."

"Oh?" This couldn't be good, except Amy's demeanor seemed confusingly relaxed and flirtatious.

"She gave me an assignment."

John waited for Amy to go on, as she gently rocked back and forth on her bed with a coy grin.

"She suggested I create new memories in this apartment. Healthy memories. Good, fun, happy memories." Amy looked at him, expectantly, but he waited for her to go on. "Good sex memories, John. I mean, I know it's small and probably not all that comfortable for you, but... well, she thinks it'll be good for me."

Relief washed over him. Not only was he not being called on the carpet, but she was feeling... amorous. He kept a serious tone as he tried to feign insult. "Amy McGuinness, did you really just invite me over here to use me for sex? What am I, a booty call?"

Amy grinned at him and nodded slowly. "Yep, at least I was hoping you'd put out. So how 'bout it? Wanna help with my 'sexual healing'?" '

John stood and took the step over to the bed and sat next to her. "Strictly in a humanitarian capacity, I'm willing to provide my services." He took her face in his hand and gently brought his lips to hers, and a slow kiss brought a smile to her lips as he added, "Anytime, anywhere."

"It's hard to kiss while smiling," she whispered.

"Mmm hmmm," he kissed her again.

"I'm going to um... turn some lights off, okay? But I want to leave some on too." She stood and turned on a small lamp by her bed and turned off all the other lights. "This is better, don't you think? Mood lighting? I want to be able to see you."

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. I love looking at you anyway, but whatever you want, however you need this to be, just tell me."

"Let's get naked," Amy said, and pulled the sweater over her head. John helped her pull the sweater off, but her bare skin and lack of bra drew his attention away from her pants, momentarily.

"You look so beautiful in this light," he said, kissing her neck and feeling her bare back with both palms.

"Let's get your shirt off too," she backed up enough to start unbuttoning his shirt, while he took the opportunity to study her again. He wanted to photograph her, Amy topless with hair bouncing off her shoulders, lit from the side by the soft glow of the nightstand lamp. After pulling his shirt off his shoulders she pulled the t-shirt off over his head and cooed, "Oh John, your body drives me crazy." He laughed because he felt the same thing about her.

"What, don't you hear that all the time?" She looked at him half-expectantly and half-jokingly.

"Doesn't matter. You're the only one I want to drive crazy right now," he said.

"How?" she lay back on the bed, leaning on her elbows, watching as he unbuttoned her jeans then slid the metal zipper down. "Just how do you intend to drive me crazy?"

John looked at her in a way that said he would show her, as he worked the tight jeans down past her hips, revealing a pair of sheer black panties. Gently stroking her mound through the panties, he considered the sexy undergarment testimony to her plan to seduce him. Her jeans and a bare-shoulder sweater with silk panties underneath conveyed understated sexiness, so characteristic of her. He looked back to her face and she gave a slight and shy smile, then jutted out her chin as if to say, "Go on."

He looked back to his hand on her panties and gently pulled the fabric aside to reveal smooth skin underneath, and bent to gently kiss her mound. A small gasp escaped her and he looked back to see the big brown eyes wide with expectation, then they narrowed in a sultry dare. He swiftly pulled the panties down to her knees, and she emitted a tiny squeal, as she raised and bent her knees. Never breaking the eye-to-eye contact, John pulled the panties all the way down and off her feet, tossed them ceremoniously aside, and then positioned himself on his belly, between her legs.

"Is this how you intend to drive me crazy?" she whispered, looking down at him.

John nodded slowly, and with his eyes still locked on hers, began kissing her inner thigh. He slid a hand under her butt and lifted it slightly, gently kneading her muscular cheek, as he traced a trail of kisses like an unhurried traveler intent on enjoying the view on his journey.

When he approached the junction between her legs, he drew his head back and started planting kisses on the other thigh, drawing out a little murmur of frustration from her lips. He smiled between kisses, then remembered she had been raped on this very bed. Pausing for a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to get his thoughts back in order. Don't be a selfish jerk! Keep kissing! Don't ruin this for Amy. Good god, what's wrong with you? He resumed the slow kisses, but now images of her tied to the headboard flashed through his mind followed by a wave of nausea.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," he smiled thinly. "I'm in heaven right now," he lied and used his spare hand to gently stroke her thigh.

"You thought about the rape, didn't you?"

"What? No! I mean... okay, Jesus, Amy, I'm so sorry... I..."

"Don't apologize, John, you can't help it. Besides, Anne warned me this might happen, but she thought it'd be me, not you." Amy wore an expression of concern.

John buried his face into the bed for a moment, ashamed at bringing the memory of the rapist into the room. He looked back up at her apologetically, unsure what to say.

"She told me I might freak out. Want to know what she said to do?"

"Yes."

"To keep some light on, to keep my eyes open, to talk to you if I started having flashbacks, and just get through it together." Amy reached down and stroked John's hair. "She also said not to put pressure on myself to make it the best sex ever, to just get over the hump."

The silly word "hump" helped to lighten his mood. John laughed and said, "Aww, do you really want me to just rush to get through the first time? Because I was about to bury my face in you."

"Oh no! Stick to your plan. I like the way you think." Amy winked and literally pushed his head back down. "And try and focus on the task at hand, will you?" she teased.

John smiled but kept his eyes locked on hers as he kissed her bare mound again, and ran a hand firmly up her thigh. His forefinger lightly grazed her vulva and he gazed upon her sexy mien, the full blossoming of what he'd only glimpsed when he put her fingers into his mouth on their first date. This time he knew how to read her expression: undeniable arousal.

He gently parted her lips and felt her wetness, as he ran a fingertip along her hot, wet, groove. Then he slid the finger in, slowly, and lowered his mouth and licked just as slowly. He didn't break eye-contact with Amy, who brought her fingertip to her own mouth and nodded slowly.

All of his senses welled up in simultaneous ecstasy, the sensations overwhelming -- almost excruciating. Amy's beautiful face full of passion and affection filled his vision, while womanly smell combined with sweet tart taste, and the tactile slickness on his lips and finger, all these sensations flowed together creating a feeling of euphoria. Positioned between her legs, seeing, tasting, smelling, touching. And then like a great symphony when an instrument comes in that you didn't realize was missing, heightening the experience even further, the auditory component, a little whimper, joined the orchestra and made John tremble in response. He lost himself in pleasuring Amy and had completely forgotten himself, until his cock throbbed and strained against his pants, pleading to be invited to the festivities. Awareness of his own need brought an involuntary moan from him and into Amy's quim. The resulting vibration brought Amy to a higher plateau.

"Oh god, you're going to make me cum!" Her hips wiggled from side to side.

"That's my plan," He mumbled, never taking his eyes off her.

"I've never cum with my eyes open!"

John maintained his stare as he turned his hand over in search of her G-spot. With two fingers he stroked the upper wall synchronously with his slow, rhythmic sucking of her clit.

"Aaahh, yes, oh my god! I can't even..."

He slowed his pace, and his eyes, still fixed on hers, watched her face turn to an adorable pout, her bottom lip alternately pushing out and being pulled back in by her upper teeth, her breathing ragged, eyes pleading. He couldn't resist returning to his former pace, and her face thanked him without words. She brought a hand to her own tit, while the other pressed firmly on his head. Her hips, which had been making small, tight gyrations, suddenly stilled, and her eyes widened and a look of surprise took possession of her face. He knew that she had arrived, as her muscles tensed repeatedly around his fingers. He stared in wonderment as her face and body danced in ecstasy, pleasure he brought to her with his hand and mouth, fingers and tongue. His pride lasted longer than her convulsions, and only when she stilled, only then did he lift his mouth from her and lick his own fingers. "Mmmm," he said, as he crawled over her.

"Oh my god! You still have your pants on?"

John laughed, "Yeah, but I nearly ripped right through them I'm so damn hard."

"Get'em off!" Amy commanded, her drawl more apparent in her relaxed post-orgasmic state.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled back, and got his trousers off in two blinks.

Amy brought both hands up to her cheeks and shook her head quickly from side-to-side. "Wow. I'm still trembling. That was... fucking incredible. Thank you."

John laughed and kissed her, adding, "Don't thank me for doing something I want to do anyway."

"Oh, but you're not done yet." She smiled, wrapping her hand around his cock, slick with precum. "If I can make you feel even half as good as you made me feel, I'll be a goddess of love."

John turned serious. "Amy, I enjoyed that as least as much as you did."

Amy smiled and caressed him and he knew he couldn't possibly convey how much he enjoyed bringing her to orgasm.

"Can you scoot up so I can get you in my mouth?" She asked, such a sexy and sincere request, but he wanted something else.

"Amy, I really want to just make love to you right now, like this, looking at your face."

"Okay. Okay, I'd like that too."

He lowered his mouth onto her full luscious lips and kissed sweetly, then passionately before lifting his head and locking eyes. He positioned his very eager cock at her entrance and pushed into her slowly and her mouth gaped, but no sound came out, then the ends curved up into an open-mouthed grin. Her teeth came down to rest on her bottom lip as he slid back out, and he watched her face as he slid in and out of her over, and over, and over again. As they enjoyed the coupling, the gentle slides back and forth, each massaging the other's body with their own while maintaining eye contact, it hit him; "making love" was a term he used all the time, but he had never experienced before now. A lifetime of sex had not prepared him for this feeling that he had as he caressed Amy on the inside and the outside, desiring to convey this feeling with his body and with his words. "I'm falling in love with you," he whispered.

Amy nodded slowly in recognition and answered, "Me too," as she continued to rock her hips from below.

"And I'm going to cum."

"Me too."

They surrendered to the rise of their sexual climax, and soared together into physical and emotional bliss that left them shuddering. Eventually, their bodies relaxed, they kissed and held each other, and gradually worked their way back to talking.

"Did you even think about it?" John asked, "Did you have any flashbacks?"

"No. I'm really surprised that I didn't; I kind of expected to, but everything was so entirely different, not just the act, but everything from the way you look at me, the way you talk to me, the way you touch me. There is no comparing, John. What he did to me had nothing to do with sex, it was just violence. And I think about it less and less as time goes on. Having sex here was a good idea. Tomorrow, when you're gone, I'm going to look at my bed and picture you in it."

"What if I just stay in it?"

"Don't you have to work?" Amy laughed.

"Yes, well, there is that. But I want to stay the night, okay?"

"Yes! I have to wake up super early to get to work, but of course I want you to stay."

"Will it help if I have Leonard drive you to work?"

Amy laughed, "You know the students are already saying Ms. McGuinness is dating a 'baller,' so the word's out."

John laughed and Amy went on, "Thank god for the urban dictionary. I thought it meant something nasty, but no. They think you're wealthy."

John stroked her hair and did not feel the need to comment on his financial status. Instead he broached the subject he thought he wanted to avoid, "So what did your therapist say about Saturday night? Did she say that... either of us went overboard?"

"No. She said there is a good chance that would have happened even if I'd never been raped. Especially when I explained how Keith showed up expecting to hook up with me, and that he'd drunk too much and cornered me. Do you know he was saying some really ugly things about how he thought I just wanted a faster runner, but what I really wanted was a guy with money?"

"Huh, really? I don't think I've ever met anyone less interested in money than you."

"Yeah, anyway, I was really pissed, but then he said some rude things about you too. It turns out he was convinced he was making progress with me, and then seeing I have a boyfriend. A 'baller' no less, well... it brought out some ugliness."

"I can see that. And I really didn't intend to hit him. It just happened."

"I know. So Anne didn't think our reactions were that out of skew. In fact, I probably won't see her much longer. I think I could probably just stop seeing her now because... well, it was a big deal getting my sex drive back and my ability to be intimate. But she thinks I still blame myself for what happened. I don't think I do, intellectually I don't, but..." Amy's face looked pained and he knew there was something she wanted to tell him.

"What is it, Amy?"

"Well Anne and I disagree on one big thing."

He waited for her to go on.

"She thinks I should tell my parents what happened."

It never occurred to him that her parents didn't know. He twirled a lock of hair around his finger, thinking about this, "Who have you told? Who else knows?"

"Aside from you? Well the lady next door, the one who let me use her phone to call the police. But she never looked at me again after that. So the cops, the doctor and nurses, a social worker, and Anne, my therapist. But I don't want to tell my parents. Why upset them? It's over and it would just hurt them and there's nothing they can do about it anyway. There's no need for them to know. Besides, I'm fine now."

John wasn't so sure. He remained quiet, thinking about the fact he'd told William. He didn't feel that he'd done wrong, but it broke his heart to think she didn't have a friend like William. Of course he'd known William for years and Amy was pretty new to the city. He knew he agreed with her therapist: Amy needed to tell her parents.