Free Fall Ch. 03

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It was a sturdy table from an old farm house. Not a thing of beauty exactly; with thick, square legs and a worn surface, it lacked elegance, but it fit perfectly with the rustic interior of Nico’s house, and coincidentally, it fit perfectly in the spacious dining room of his barely furnished house.

Nico had bought it at an auction and it had taken four men to load it onto the truck. It was solid oak, eight feet long: a real beast of a thing. It barely wobbled when he thrust.

“Oh God, that’s so good,” I panted, staring up at him. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

His arm muscles strained as he grasped the edge, and his brown curls bobbed violently around his face with each forward motion of his hips. Even with the beard he’d let grow over the past week, he was hot as hell, and just looking into his soft, dark eyes, so full of emotion, brought me closer to coming.

For my birthday in September, after a lot of not-so-subtle reminders that he’d made me a promise, Nico told his sister Rose we’d been seeing each other. She’d reacted exactly how he’d predicted (and worried) she would.

First, of course, she was thrilled he was finally dating again. More than once she’d expressed to me how much she worried he’d never date again, that he’d spend the rest of his life alone, missing his wife and missing out on a second chance to fall in love. Learning he’d been dating again thrilled her to pieces.

She’d noticed he’d seemed happier lately, more like his old self, but she’d just assumed it was because his business was going so well, or that his daughter Lena was growing into a sweet and happy little girl, shedding some of the shyness and uncertainty she’d developed since her mother’s death. She’d never dreamed he’d met someone; she’d been sure—because, she admitted, she’d been watching him like a hawk for signs of anything romantic happening in his life—she’d notice if he was finally dating again.

He’d kept it a secret from her! He’d kept it a secret for months. From her—his sister! And so, she was angry, a little hurt, but mostly frustrated she’d missed out on months of excitement.

She couldn’t stay angry long, though, not when I was the reason her brother was so happy. She admitted she’d never considered me as someone he’d be interested in romantically—or, no doubt, she would have done her best to push the two of us together—but she and I had grown close as friends, and she didn’t doubt for a second I was worthy of her brother’s affections.

Nico’s worry hadn’t been that Rose wouldn’t approve. His worry had been that she’d approve so much, so wholeheartedly, and with her usual over-the-top enthusiasm, she would leave little room for him to enjoy his own feelings, or even feel them. He was a quiet, thoughtful man. He needed time and space to process this big change in his life. And while Rose was sensitive and loving, she was also a little overbearing, especially with her siblings, and especially Nico, whom she was closest to of all her brothers.

“I’m just going to have to be patient,” Nico said, after he’d told Rose his big news. “She’s going to want to talk about weddings and rings and how soon we’ll move in together. She’s going to talk about it every chance she gets, and I’m just going to have to let her. I mean, I can’t deny her that.”

“It’s better than sneaking around,” I’d reminded him. “Besides, she said she’d be happy to watch Lena anytime we want. That’s a pretty good trade, right?”

It was, of course. The best trade.

Since telling Rose, it had become easier for Nico and I to see each other. She was more than happy to watch Lena on Friday or Saturday nights so we could go out. It made all the difference in moving our relationship forward, and pretty soon we were able to add real dates to our calendars in addition to the quick lunches and carefully coordinated evening encounters at his still-unoccupied house. We spent every evening together we could. Sometimes just meeting to get ice cream and take Lena to the park, a few hours together in public, but also a few romantic dinners that naturally segued to hours of intense and satisfying sex.

Sex was amazing with Nico, and the more I got, the more I wanted. Every single time I saw him, even if it was only 10 minutes, I was left agitated and aching, my pussy throbbing with arousal. I wanted him so bad. So much. I wanted to touch him and kiss him, to feel his arms around me and his body against mine. I wanted his mouth on my breasts and his cock in my hand, his sweat on my skin, and the sound of his pleasure in my ears. I’d never been so obsessed with having sex before, never so focused on when it might happen next. Every time we had a moment together, some part of my brain was busy calculating if we had time for sex. Luckily for me, Nico was in the very same boat.

So when he called, with free time on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and suggested having lunch at his house, I knew he meant sex. I picked up some sandwiches and salad on the way, but they stayed on the kitchen counter in their Ankara travesti take-out bag while we kissed, gradually shedding our clothes and ending up on the leather couch in the living room for an energetic half hour of sex.

Afterwards, we ate and talked, still naked on the couch, content if a little chilly. He showed me the pieces of furniture he’d brought into the house since the last time I’d been there. He was excited to be hosting Thanksgiving for the first time, and proudly showed me the table he thought he could easily get all ten adults around, with enough space to the side for a kid’s table. Maybe he’d been planning it all along, but I think it was a spontaneous decision to lift me up onto the clean wooden tabletop and kiss me. He was a foot taller than me, but with me sitting on the edge of the table, it was easy for him to press his cock inside me.

I groaned when he pulled out, but I could see he’d been close to coming and wasn’t ready. He was soon inside me again, though, with two thick fingers, and I moaned in anticipation of what he was about to do.

“Mmm yess,” I hissed.

He snaked one arm around my hip, and with the fingers of that hand he spread the lips of my pussy and bent to bring his mouth to my open sex.

I lifted my head from the table’s surface and watched him, thrilled. He manipulated my labia until my clit was standing out and framed between his spread fingers. He raised his eyes before his tongue made contact and I heard myself whimper as a shiver passed through me.

At the same time his tongue met my clit, the fingers he held inside me began to move. In, and out, in a slow, deliberate manner. Filling me up and then bending inside me as he drew them out again, arousing me in ways regular penetration couldn’t achieve. It was my favorite sexual act, if I had to pick just one, and Nico had become a master at bringing me to shattering orgasms this way.

Even though his fingers inside me moved slowly, and his tongue was making light, lazy passes over my clit, I could feel the tension inside me building quickly. It was incredible how well he knew my body, how efficiently he could bring me off, if efficiency was his intention, which, thank God, it rarely was.

I lifted my head again, wanting to watch him. I loved the sight of his body bent over my spread thighs, his arm muscles flexing as he carefully controlled the speed and angle of his fingers inside me, and especially his open mouth over my sex. He raised his eyes to meet mine and I saw him smile before he dropped his lips to my clit and gave it a gentle suck.

“Oh God. That’s—God, that’s amazing.” It was partly the pressure on my clit, but it was also that face looking back at me from between my pale thighs. “I love you so much.”

He released my clit and grinned. “I love you, too, Foxy.”

The next second his mouth was on my clit again and I let my head drop back to the tabletop as he very slowly and gradually sucked, licked, and stroked me to the peak. I held nothing back, letting him know exactly how excited every movement of his clever tongue, and his deft fingers deep inside me made me feel. I moaned and panted and added to my arousal with my own fingers on my nipples.

For his part, Nico responded with the occasional groan of excitement, and each time I lifted my head to look at him, his eyes were on me, watching my reactions. He knew the signs of an imminent orgasm, and I’d been just on the verge of telling him when he lifted his mouth from my sex and growled, “Do you want to come, baby?”

“God yes,” I moaned. “Don’t stop. Make me come.”

He moaned something back, but his mouth was over my clit again and I couldn’t understand him. I lifted my head again as I felt my body tensing. I pinched my hard nipples and watched his bicep flex as he fucked me as slowly as he could, his tongue flicking rapidly over my clit. The excitement in his expression was obvious, and it thrilled me to bits, bringing me right up to the peak.

“Right there, right there,” I gasped. “Yes, Nico. Oh God…yesss.”

This orgasm was sharper than the one I’d had earlier, but it always was when he brought me off with his hands and mouth. I bit my lip and his eyes went wide. I knew he could feel it, how tight I was just then. His fingers slid deep, but his tongue didn’t stop until I gasped out his name, then he closed his mouth over my clit and held it there, hot and wet, as I throbbed around his fingers. I keened and moaned and swore until the spasms stopped, and then I lay there breathing hard for a few seconds.

He lifted his head, gently releasing my sensitive clit, drew his hand from between my thighs and stood. He reached for my arms and pulled me into a sitting position and kissed me softly on the mouth. He was breathing fast, not as fast as I was, but he was clearly turned on.

“I will never get tired of watching you come,” he breathed, “it’s so exciting.”

I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck and let him kiss me Konya travesti deeply. I could taste my own body on his tongue, mixed with his own particular flavor, and I shivered with a little thrill of excitement.

His hard cock was trapped between our bodies as we kissed, but he made room for my hand when I slid it between us. I stroked him gently for a long minute and then he drew back, releasing me from his arms.

“Lie back again,” he said. I could see by his expression he wasn’t going to last long.

He slid his hands under my hips and pulled me to the edge of the table and was pressing inside me a second later. He hooked his arms under my thighs and grabbed hold of the table top, then pushed himself all the way in. We both sighed as he filled me completely; it felt so right. He started off slow, easing himself in and out, his eyes moving from my face and down my body to where we were joined, then back up again. When he met my eyes he smiled and I lifted my arms to touch his face. He bent and slid one arm behind me to cradle my head as he kissed me.

“I love you,” he whispered before he kissed me again. “I love you so much.”

He let go of me after another soft kiss, and dragged my hips a little closer to him. He began to fill me a little quicker than a moment before. I could tell by the set of his jaw how close he was already to coming. I reached down and gripped the edge of the table top on either side of my hips, bracing myself for his forward thrusts.

He was in his own world just then, still holding my gaze, but focused completely on the pleasure he was feeling, on making it last as he grew more and more aroused. He kept up a steady pace, a double-time heartbeat, burying himself again and again. Tension showed in every muscle of his body as his hips flexed. Gradually, his pace increased just a little, but the power behind his thrusts increased noticeably. He pushed hard, burying himself deep inside me before drawing his cock almost all the way out again.

His face was red with effort and I could see sweat glistening at his hairline despite the chill in the room. He gasped now and then, a short, sharp inhale of pleasure, and it was obvious to me it was taking everything he had to hold off his orgasm, and he wouldn’t be able to do it much longer. I wondered if he had the same nagging awareness I did—that we’d have to part again soon—and if he was, in part, trying to put off the inevitable goodbye.

I watched his expression shift again and again, between focus and surrender, one moment drawn and tense, the next melting into desperation, then back again, his brow dark as he thrust home, fitting himself inside me. I longed to touch him, to feel his tense muscles under my fingers. I knew how hot his skin would be, how fast his heart must be beating, but I was clinging to the table’s edge to keep from being pushed across its surface by the force of his forward momentum.

When he closed his eyes, I knew he was there, and like every single time since that first night at his sister’s house, I thought of the possibility of getting pregnant. I wouldn’t, I knew that, but I thought about it, about how much I wanted it. It made his impending orgasm that much more exciting to me. I felt the longing deep inside me and it made me shiver with excitement.

“Oh, Nico…come inside me,” I said.

His eyes flew open, an expression of lust in them. He pushed harder, his hips slapping against me hard and fast. My body jumped each time.

“Come inside me,” I said again. “Fill me up.”

He groaned and shook his head, grinning. He attempted to reply, between quick breaths. “Oh, yes, baby,” he gasped. “Inside you…inside…you.”

He shifted his feet slightly and put even more effort into his thrusting hips. It was incredible, the power in his forward motion. My body jerked, my legs bobbed in the air, and I felt my breath leave my body each time. It was too blunt and quick a rhythm to turn me on again, but I still loved the feel of him filling me up, knowing how much pleasure it was giving him to fuck me so solidly.

“Ohh God,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“Yes, yes. Come inside me.”

“Deep inside.” He was panting now, and his voice was tortured and strained. “Deep inside you, Zoe.”

I gripped the table hard, thrilled by his words and the look on his face. “Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted. “Come in my pussy.”

That pushed him over the edge. His face contorted and he groaned from deep in his chest. His hips thrust faster than ever, less powerful now, just fucking me fast as he could, and then they slowed and stopped and he groaned again, burying himself deep. I couldn’t feel his cock jumping, but I knew it was, emptying his cum inside me for the second time that afternoon. It made my head spin with desire.

He held himself deep, shaking as he came, holding his breath until his face turned red. Then he exhaled violently and shook again, panting.

“Oh God,” he gasped. “Zoe…sweet…heart.”

It took a full minute İzmir travesti before he moved, and even then he was shaky as he let go of the table’s edge and reached for me. My arms went around his neck immediately and he lifted me from the table’s surface, his cock still inside me. He held me close, his breathing hot and fast against my neck. I could feel the hammering of his heart against my breasts. I buried my face in his sweaty neck and breathed in his familiar scent, feeling a surge of happiness.

“So fantastic,” he said between quick breaths. “You are…so fucking fantastic, baby.”

He held me a long time before his cock began to soften, and then he set me back on the table and took my face in his hands to kiss me. His expression was the same after every orgasm, a mix of awe and gratitude, and I felt my own face transform to mirror his. I loved this man so completely and felt so completely loved by him in return. How I had gotten so lucky I didn’t know, but there was no denying he was real, he was here, and whatever complications the outside world held, with Nico, things were simple and certain. He loved me. What else mattered?


It was so hard to believe only three months had passed since we’d discovered our mutual attraction at Rose’s house, three months since our first sexual encounter. So much had happened in that time.

Most dramatically, my work week had changed when the kids started school. I was no longer spending all day with them, only a few hours in the afternoon. However, Lena only went for a half day, so she and I had several hours alone together before we met the boys at the bus stop. As a result, she and I deepened our connection, and I found myself growing more and more attached to her, which only made my longing to be married and living with Nico and Lena that much worse. Sometimes it was an overwhelming fantasy I couldn’t shake from my head.

My grandmother had been aware of my attraction to Nico since the beginning, and though she adored him, she had her concerns. She began inviting him and Lena to dinner on a regular basis. I never asked her about it, but I think she did it as a way to gauge the progression of our relationship. She had warned me already to go carefully and thoughtfully, and I believed I had, but she obviously felt some responsibility for the relationship since she had, inadvertently set into motion by introducing us in the first place.

It took my grandfather a little longer to catch on there was any other reason for Nico’s frequent appearances at his dinner table than that he liked Gran’s cooking. I hadn’t tried to hide it from him, he just never seemed to notice the subtleties of our exchanges. It wasn’t until he saw Nico kiss me goodnight—nothing passionate, but full on the mouth and right in the kitchen—he figured out there was something going on. Granted, it would have been hard to interpret that familiar a kiss as anything but romantic, but like I said, my grandfather didn’t really get subtlety. It only took my grandmother gently reminding him of the 11 years between their ages for him to decide maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. Besides, he and Nico had bonded recently over a few small home-improvement projects, and he had nothing but the greatest respect for him.

I just hoped their love and admiration for Nico would help convince my parents of his worth when they finally met. I should have told them months ago, or at least told them I was dating someone. I’d meant to when I’d visited at my birthday in September. I had pictures in my phone of Nico and Lena I’d planned to show them, thinking maybe their surprise at the age difference could be softened by Lena’s bright smile and Nico’s gentle face. In the end, I chickened out, and told them nothing at all.

But time was running out. Thanksgiving was always at my grandparents’ house, and though my brother’s residency schedule meant that this year we had to have Thanksgiving dinner on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, it also meant it would be possible for Nico and Lena to join us.

“It’s up to you to talk to your mom and dad before hand, Zoe,” my grandmother had warned me. “You can’t spring this on them when they show up and Nico’s sitting at the table, it’s not fair. If I were you, I’d tell them as soon as you can so they can at least get used to the idea.”

I’d called them not long after that conversation. The closest I could get to a face-to-face conversation without driving to New York was a Skype call. I hoped my parents would blame my pale face on the computer screen and the nervousness I was feeling.

It hadn’t gone horribly. It hadn’t gone great, though, either. There was interest when I said I’d met someone, that I’d been dating, and I thought they probably took it as a good sign, a sign I was truly over my depression, but then I’d told them his age, and the briefest synopsis of his recent past, and an awkwardness crept into the conversation. They said all the right words, encouraging words, words that expressed their happiness for me, their eagerness to meet him, and their faces showed nothing but happiness from what I could make out on my phone’s screen, but I could just imagine them sitting at the kitchen table afterwards, trying to make sense of the strange news. Had she really said he was 38? A mason? A single dad?

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