Honeysuckle Love

She gasped when she felt his lips fasten onto her, drawing her nipple into his mouth, gently teasing it with his tongue. She arched her body up to him, crying out as she felt the soft jolts of electricity move down her stomach and disappear to that magical place between her legs. He kissed and nibbled on her other breast, taking her nipple into his mouth and paying it the same respect as the first. She twisted her fingers in his hair, tugging on him gently because the pleasure was almost too great, and she thought she should make him stop.

 

“You are so beautiful,” he said looking up at her.

 

He kissed her lips tenderly as his hand slid down her belly to her waistband. He paused, pulling away from her to look at her face.

 

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he said.

 

She thought about his parents, when they would be coming home, how mortified she would be if his parents came downstairs and discovered them.

 

“Your parents . . .”

 

“Are not here,” Evan finished. “And won’t be here for a long time.”

 

He unbuttoned her jeans and paused. She didn’t resist so he unzipped them. And when she still didn’t resist, he pulled them gently down her legs until they were lying in the pile with her shirt and his guitar.

 

Clara lay perfectly still, afraid to move, feeling excited and fearful and even ashamed of the physical responses she knew he could elicit from her. She thought he would lie on top of her again, but he didn’t. He moved off the couch altogether and knelt on the floor next to her. She felt like she was laid out for him like a present. He bent his head to kiss her again, letting his hand glide lazily over her breasts, feeling her body rise up to his touch. He continued kissing her as he moved his hand down her stomach, the tips of his fingers disappearing under her panties.

 

She squirmed, and he stopped. He pulled away from her.

 

“Clara, I won’t do anything—”

 

“I want you to,” she said, and pulled him back to her lips.

 

He kissed her greedily, sliding his hand down in between her legs and tasting her gasp in his mouth. He continued kissing her as he explored her, gently pushing a finger into her, afraid he would come undone completely at the feel of her silkiness. Her hips moved against his hand, and he stroked her, feeling her response, the panting in his mouth as she fought to control her desire to yield to him.

 

He wanted nothing more than to taste her. He wasn’t sure if she would let him. He didn’t know if he could ask. But he knew he didn’t want to make her come with his fingers. He wanted to make her come with his mouth, his tongue. He was wired, feeling his muscles swell, transforming him into an animal ready to dominate.

 

“Clara,” he said drawing away from her mouth. His hand left her, and she wanted to scream.

 

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, twisting her body to him, begging him to touch her again.

 

He moved to the end of the couch and took hold of her panties, sliding them down and off her legs before she could resist. He positioned his body between her thighs, forcing them apart, and watched as her hands flew in between her legs to hide herself from him. She knew her face was flushed; she could feel it aching bright red.

 

Evan bent down and kissed her stomach. He kissed her hands that stayed locked in between her legs. He kissed her inner thighs, moving his hands up and down her outer legs. She relaxed and didn’t resist when he peeled away her hands to leave her completely exposed to him. She shut her eyes tightly, imagining what he thought looking at her. She did not have to imagine for very long. She heard the sharp intake of his breath.

 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

 

The heat moved over her body in one sweeping wave, and she tried to close her legs. He kept them apart.

 

“I’m going to make you come for me, Clara.”

 

She shivered then let out a whimper as she felt a kiss there. A light kiss, and then another, and then his tongue, and then the dark box she entered to confess her sins. Warm and velvety and she knew she’d done wrong, but ahhhh, she had to keep doing wrong. It felt good to do it, and she wanted to pay for it. She trembled for wanting it, the punishment. She’d say it over and over, penance so sweet until she settled her debt. Then she was lifted off her knees, embraced by God who drew her up, up, up until she reached the crystal gates that opened to her undoing, and she screamed and cried her exploding pleasure into the vast whiteness.

 

 

 

Clara and Evan sat on the couch side by side. He ran his hand through his hair for something to do. She, fully clothed now, stared ahead of her wondering what the hell just happened.

 

“I’m just going to be honest with you, Clara,” Evan said after a time. “I’ve never made a girl come like that before. I mean, I don’t think I’m all that or anything, but damn.”

 

“Be quiet, Evan,” Clara snapped.

 

“Okay.”

 

“And don’t mention other girls after you’ve done . . . that,” she said.

 

“You’re right,” he replied. “That was inconsiderate of me.”

 

She whirled around to face him. “And exactly how many girls have you done that to?”

 

“Oh God,” he groaned.

 

“What does that mean? A lot?” she asked, feeling her temper rise.

 

“None, Clara.” He passed a hand through his hair again.

 

“Don’t lie to me,” she said.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied.

 

“Why? You brought it up. You said you’ve never made a girl come like that before,” Clara said. “Congratulations. You must feel really good about yourself.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Evan snapped. “What the hell is wrong with that? You didn’t seem to mind it.” He thought to yank her pants off and show her again how much she didn’t mind it.

 

“Tell me, did I taste as good as those other girls? Does poor * taste as good as rich *?” Clara jumped up from the couch.

 

“What is wrong with you?” Evan asked. “Why would you say something like that?”

 

“Because I’d like to know what I’m competing with,” she said. “And you still haven’t answered my question. How many girls? Do you keep a tally?”

 

“Oh my God, Clara.”

 

“Well? Do you?!”

 

“Calm down.”

 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” she cried. “You say something stupid and then I ask you to tell me how many girls and you act like there haven’t been other girls!”