Porter Read online

  He pokes his nose into the Y where my legs meet my slit and inhales deeply. Heat floods my face. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting so turned on or because I’m afraid he won’t like the way I smell down there.

  “Mmm… your pussy smells delicious. A perfect combination of sweet and musky. Let’s see if it tastes as good as it smells.”

  Oh fuck.

  His tongue darts out of his mouth and licks the top of my slit in one upward swipe. I’m not sure what kind of squawk it is that comes out of my mouth, but I know it is triggered by nothing but ecstasy.

  He’s only licked me once, but my legs are already going weak. There’s no way I’ll still be standing if he continues doing that.

  I lean against the bed and grasp the edge of the mattress for support. Porter moves closer and lifts one of my legs to place my foot on the box spring. “You’re going to like this. A lot.”

  He spreads my slit apart with his fingers, and his tongue does this fast vibration-flicking thing against the top. “Ohhh… ohh… ohh.”

  I look down because I want to see his mouth on me. I consider shutting my eyes when he looks up at me. Having his eyes on mine while he licks me that way… it’s almost too erotic. Almost.

  He turns his hand palm side up and inserts a finger inside me while he sucks and pulls on the top of my slit. The suction of his mouth starts and stops in a rhythm that matches his fingers sliding in and out of me.

  I’m already rocking my pelvis against his mouth when I realize what I’m doing. Pure instinct. That’s all it can be called because this has never been done to me.

  A need I’ve never known is triggered low in my groin. A need for more. More suction. More friction. More motion.

  I rock against Porter’s mouth harder and faster and with more pressure. “Ohh God. Porter. Something is happening. And it feels so good.”

  He sucks harder and I have this strange, rhythmic squeeze-and-release thing happening inside me. A warm rush fills my face and chest and arms and legs. Ecstasy. Elation. Rapture. Euphoria. Call it whatever but it’s wonderful. And I don’t want it to ever end.

  I fall on his bed when the rhythmic contractions stop, and I hear the sound of a zipper. I forgot he was still wearing pants.

  I was planning to explore his body, but it’ll have to wait. I’m a boneless mess with trembling legs.

  Porter crawls over me and lowers his naked body on top of mine, so we’re face-to-face with our bodies pressed together. He’s smiling as he kisses me. Proud of himself, I can tell. “I made you come hard?”

  “You sure did, magic mouth.”

  He chuckles. “Magic mouth?”

  I nod while I nibble on my lip, a little embarrassed to admit the truth. “That’s the first time I’ve ever had an orgasm.”

  His smile widens until dimples form in both cheeks. “Did you like it?”

  Is he kidding? “Of course, I liked it. I want more. Lots more. Just like that one.”

  “I’m not a bit opposed to that. Your pussy tastes good.”

  “Porter…”

  “Whaaat?”

  He knows what. “You have a filthy mouth.”

  “Your pussy didn’t mind my filthy mouth just now, so neither should you.”

  He kisses me and I smell myself. “I’m not sure how I feel about kissing you with that on your breath.”

  “It’s a part of you, Frankee. Get used to it; you’re going to be smelling that on my breath a lot.”

  Porter bends my knees and pushes my legs apart. He rotates his hips and the length of his erection rubs against me. “Are you on birth control?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Porter sits back on his feet so he’s kneeling between my legs. He reaches down and traces the strip of hair on my mound. “I like this.”

  “I didn’t know we’d be doing this today. I probably would have taken it all off if I’d known.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

  “I thought guys liked it smooth.”

  “Not me.” He cups his hand between my legs. “I want this to look like it belongs on a woman, not a little girl. Hairless is weird to me.”

  “Okay.”

  He leans over to the nightstand and takes out a condom from the top drawer. He’s prepared, a reminder that I’m not the first woman he’s had in his bed. Hell, I’m probably not even the first one this month.

  He tears the foil packet and tosses it on the nightstand before rolling the condom over his impressive erection. I may be a virgin but even I know this man is hung. “Your cock is huge. This is going to hurt.”

  “You might not appreciate my massive cock this first time, but I promise you that after your virginity is gone, you will love my arm-size dick inside you. You’ll beg me to fuck you with it.”

  “I don’t know that it’s arm-size.”

  “It’s arm-size.” He chuckles. “I just didn’t say whose arm.”

  Porter lowers his body so he’s lying on top of me. “It’s going to take some self-control not to lose myself and fuck you into the mattress.”

  “Is that what you’ve been fantasizing about doing?”

  “Every fucking night, Frankee. In this bed… pumping my cock… thinking about you.”

  “That’s sort of sweet. And dirty. But mostly sweet.”

  “Things are about to get real sweet.”

  He glides his hand between our bodies and pushes his fingers through my slick center. “Fuck, you’re wet. You have no idea what a turn-on that is.”

  Porter rubs the tip of his condom-clad cock up and down through my wet slit. Feeling it at my entrance turns me on in a whole new and different way.

  Amazing. I know Porter’s dick is going to stretch my body and tear something deep inside me. Despite knowing there will be pain, I still want him inside me. I crave it. I need it.

  Porter positions the tip in my center and slowly eases the head inside. He covers my mouth with his and pushes the remaining length inside me, tearing through my virginity. There’s a stingy-achy-pleasure-pain sensation but it isn’t bad. The discomfort quickly subsides, and I’m ready for everything he has to give.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m good.” I bend my knees and tilt my hips upward. “I’m ready for you to fuck me into this mattress.”

  He pulls back, almost to the point where it feels like he’s going to slide out, and then quickly thrusts. He grasps the backs of my thighs and pushes my legs up and apart, using them as leverage to pound into me deeper and harder. “I can’t believe how tight you are. The grip your body has on my cock feels so fucking good.”

  Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Simple Man’ begins playing and Porter’s pace slows to echo the tempo in perfect synchronization. Again, not a traditionally romantic song but somehow it’s perfect.

  He releases my legs and lowers his body, so his chest is pressed against my breasts. His forearms are pushing into the bed around my head, trapping me inside his cage of muscular, tattooed arms. I can’t think of anything any sexier. But then one of his hands leaves its place beside my head. It follows the length of my arm until he finds my hand. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes. I squeeze back in response, and he brings my hand to his mouth for a kiss. It feels so romantic, a gesture of affection.

  The song reaches the crescendo, and Porter moves our clasped hands above my head and pumps faster. He presses his forehead to mine, and his breath increases. A grunt/groan/moan accompanies the last few thrusts, but it’s the last one I love hearing the most. “Uhhh… Frankee.”

  Hearing my name on his lips while he’s coming is a special kind of thrill.

  He pulls out slowly, rolls off of me, and lies on his back. His breathing has slowed but deepened. “Oh fuck. That was the best lunch break I’ve ever had.”

  Porter reaches for my hand, bringing it to his mouth for another kiss. “Thank you for letting me be the one.”

  I didn’t do anything but lie there, but that seemed to be what he wanted
. “Was it good for you?”

  “Baby, calling that good would be an insult to your pussy.”

  “You love saying that word, don’t you?”

  “Pussy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I love everything about pussy. Not just saying the word. Does that bother you?”

  “Depends.”

  “Upon?”

  “If you want my pussy, you can have it whenever you want it. But you can’t have anyone else’s. I’m not going to play that game. And if that’s going to be a problem then we need to only be boss and intern.”

  Porter rolls and climbs on top of me. He grabs my wrists and pushes my hands over my head. He bites my bottom lip and tugs on it. “Same goes for you, Frankee. If you want my cock, you can have it whenever you want it. But you can’t have anyone else’s.”

  “Don’t want anyone else’s.”

  “Okay then. I think this is settled.”

  “I wanted you to try something different, so I got the Mexican quinoa and creamy butternut squash linguine with fried sage. Both of them are good takeout dishes.”

  “Hmm… I can’t choose. Do you want to split them?”

  “Sure.”

  I divvy out portions of each entree onto two plates.

  “I’ll get drinks while you’re doing that. What do you want?”

  “I always drink water with meals.”

  “Me too.”

  We sit at my bar, and Frankee is wearing red lace panties and one of my black Lovibond T-shirts. Sexy as fuck. “Seeing you like that makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and take you to my bed again.”

  “I might say yes to that if we hadn’t been gone from the brewery for so long.”

  “I know we need to get back… but I’d really love to fuck you again.”

  “Pace yourself. I don’t want you to tire of me before September.”

  “Not possible.”

  “Well, let’s not overdo it just in case.”

  My phone vibrates, and my heart speeds when I see who it is. “It’s my mom. I’m sorry, but I really need to take this.”

  “Of course, you do. Don’t apologize for that.”

  “Hey, Mom. Everything go okay?”

  “Much better than expected. The infusion was completed about an hour ago, and I feel great. Better than I have in weeks.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “Something feels off to me. I shouldn’t feel so good. The chemo is supposed to make me tired and nauseous. I’d phone the nurse, but it would sound stupid to call because I feel good.”

  “Frankee is here with me right now. Would you want me to ask her if she knows what that means?”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  I take the phone away from my mouth. “My mom’s chemo finished infusing about an hour ago. She says she feels good. Too good. Better than she does on a good day and it’s making her worry something is wrong.”

  “I’m sure they pre-treated her with steroids before her treatment.”

  I bring the phone back to my ear. “Frankee thinks they pre-treated you with medication. Did they give you something before the chemo?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure what it was.”

  I nod to Frankee.

  “She’ll be fine today and probably get tired tomorrow evening.”

  I take the phone away from my ear and hit mute. “She’s scared and confused. Do you mind talking to her?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  I pass my phone to her. “Hello, Mrs. Beckman. This is Frankee.”

  She smiles, and I wonder what my mother said to elicit that lovely expression.

  “I don’t mind at all. What I was explaining to Porter was that I believe they gave you a dose of steroids before your chemo to boost your energy level. The steroid is why you feel so good right now. It makes you a little hyper sometimes, so you might not be able to sleep tonight. A Benadryl an hour or two before bedtime won’t hurt a thing.”

  Frankee is silent for a moment before continuing. “I suspect it’s different for everyone, but my mom always started getting tired the next day. Usually around five, depending upon what time her infusion completed. Occasionally the malaise would wait until the following morning. My mother never had problems with nausea and vomiting, but her doctor was generous with meds to prevent that.”

  Frankee motions for me to eat.

  I shake my head. “Not without you.”

  Frankee takes the phone away from her ear and hits mute. “Eat. You need to keep up your strength.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She takes a small bite here and there as she talks to my mom. Twenty minutes later, they’re still talking. And Frankee looks content to keep it up all day. She doesn’t appear the least bit annoyed.

  I can see that this conversation won’t be ending anytime soon.

  I call out, “Mom, we’re on our lunch break. We’ve gotta go back to work.”

  Frankee giggles, and I know my mother probably called me a shit-ass since that’s her favorite name for me.

  “It was lovely talking to you too. You’re welcome to call me anytime you like.”

  She ends the call. “My mom didn’t want to say goodbye to me?”

  “I don’t think so… shit-ass.” Frankee cackles. “Ah, a mother’s love.”

  “I take it that your mom doesn’t have an adorable nickname like shit-ass for you?”

  “She has some, but none of them are as good as that.”

  “You’d love my mother.” And she would love you.

  “I can tell just by talking with her that I would.”

  “As much as I hate it, we really need to get dressed and head back to the brewery.”

  “I know. The longer we’re gone, the more people are going to talk.”

  We’re redressing when Frankee leans closer to the dresser mirror. “I’m going to kill you, Porter Beckman.”

  “Why? What’d I do?”

  Frankee spins around and walks toward me. “Look at what you did. You put hickeys all over me.”

  Well, shit. “I’m sorry.”

  She pulls the V of her shirt downward. “Look at this purple one on the top of my titty.”

  I shouldn’t have been so careless. But damn if I don’t love seeing my marks on her.

  “Do you have any makeup with you?”

  “A little powder.”

  “Try covering the ones on your neck with that. And if it doesn’t work, let your hair down.”

  “I left wearing a topknot. People are going to suspect something went down if I come back with my hair looking different.”

  “Leave your hair up so they can see my hickeys, and they’re not going to suspect anything. They’re going to know something went down. Pun intended.”

  “Shit-ass.”

  Frankee leaves the bedroom and comes back with her purse. She dips her finger into the powder and then dabs it on top of the purplish-red marks. “What do you think?”

  “Better but you need to take your hair down. Suspicion would be preferable over confirmation.”

  “You’re right.”

  I go to her and wrap my arms around her from behind. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

  She has the power to make me forget reason. “I lost myself in you. Close wasn’t close enough. Even when I was buried balls deep, I wanted to be deeper inside you.”

  “I know. I felt the same.”

  “When can I see you again?” I can already tell that one hit isn’t going to be enough.

  “I don’t know. When do you want to see me again?”

  “Tonight.”

  “That soon, huh?”

  “You don’t want to see me tonight?”

  “I do, but it feels a little risky. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do if my dad knows I left with you and stayed gone for over two hours. It feels like I’m asking for trouble if I don’t go home after work.”

  “You think we need to lie low for
a little while?”

  “I don’t think it’s a terrible idea.”

  “I need to know how long it’s going to be before I can have you again.”

  “Three days?”

  “Fuck no.” I won’t make it that long.

  “Two doesn’t throw anyone off our trail.”

  “Well, neither does three. All we really accomplish is three days of sexual frustration.”

  “I don’t think we have to make that decision right now. We need to see what kind of damage is done first. See who says what.”

  That makes sense. “I agree.”

  “So we’re leaving here not knowing when we’ll be together again?”

  “Correct.”

  “I don’t like that at all.”

  “I don’t either, but we’re secret lovers. It is what it is.”

  At least we hope we’re still a secret.

  I look up when I hear the three soft taps on my office door. “Just wanted to stick my head in and say bye before I go.”

  I motion with my hand for Frankee to come into my office. I wait until she’s close to ask the question on my mind all afternoon. “Everything okay when you got back?”

  I dropped her off and waited in my truck a good fifteen minutes before coming in. I know people aren’t stupid, but it would probably look bad for both of us to return together at almost three o’clock.

  “I think so. Molly wasn’t at her desk when I came in. No one has said anything to me except my dad. He believes we just missed each other at lunch. I think we dodged a bullet.”

  Hearing that makes me feel like we have a get-out-of-jail-free card that we haven’t used yet.

  I get up and go to the door, shutting and locking it.

  “Porter… we got lucky today, but we shouldn’t push it.”

  “It’s a quarter after five. Anyone working in the office is always out of here at five on the dot. We’re alone.”

  “My dad never leaves before five-thirty.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s in the warehouse.”

  Her arms go up and around my shoulders as I pull her into my embrace. Our kiss is gentle but also filled with passion. Makes me want to take her to the sofa and do bad things, but I can tell that she’s too nervous for that. “I just needed to kiss you again and make sure you’re okay before you go.”