Not another word was spoken between us as he finishes undressing and finds his place between my legs. His lips trail down my neck, sucking, grazing and licking all the sweet spots his mouth owned. I squirm against the comforter as his mouth travels lower, finding one breast, squeezing the other, taking my pert nipple between his teeth and tugging on it before his tongue soothes the sting his teeth leaves behind.
His mouth moves across the valley of skin between my breasts, his tongue tickling the flesh until he sucks my other nipple into his mouth. Mikey’s hands grab a hold of my hips and force my back to arch as he presses my pelvis against his, teasing us both by grinding his cock against my pussy, letting me know how badly he wants me. I wrap my legs around his waist and press myself against him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I urge him to give us what we both needed.
He shakes his head, releasing my nipple and unraveling my legs from his waist before placing a trail of wet kisses down my belly. My whole body quivers in anticipation as he hovers over my pussy, pushing my legs as wide as they can go. With a feral gaze he stares at me, sighing in appreciation as his fingers ran down the seam of my pussy.
Mikey came back into my life unexpectedly, broke down the walls I had built without me even noticing and then he rebuilt the walls, adding windows to let me shine through the panes. He showed me what true love is without realizing true love existed in his touch.
His gentle caress against my skin ignites a fire inside of me and I fist the sheets as I press myself against his hand, riding the two fingers he slides inside of me. Mikey keeps his eyes on mine as he expertly works me, soaking his fingers and priming me for him. His thumb finds the tight bundle of nerves and strokes it slowly, both pleasuring and torturing me equally.
“Mikey,” I gasp, swirling my hips and moving to the rhythm he creates. He quickens his pace, curls his fingers inside me and presses down on my clit.
My vision slips away from me, my voice dead, and my hearing faded leaving me vulnerable to the orgasm that takes over my body and forces me to feel.
The last first time I orgasmed as his wife.
My body dips into the mattress as I came down from the natural high his fingers grant me, and before I can catch my breath, Mikey withdraws his hand from between my legs and guides the head of his cock to my entrance. His hand wraps tightly around his dick as he runs the tip up and down my pussy, lubricating himself with all of me.
The last first time he pushed himself into me without protection.
The last first time I felt him deep inside of me with nothing between us.
The last first time my husband made love to me.
We had a lifetime of firsts still to come and each one of them would be the last first we ever had.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was the early eighties, Maryann and I were barely legal but that didn’t stop us from painting the town red. I had a part-time job at Rosalie’s bakery, making just enough money to spend my paycheck—that’s a lie. I never received a paycheck, those days we were paid in cash, sixty dollars stuffed in a white envelope that Rosalie scribbled my name on. It was enough cash for me to buy a brand new outfit every Friday. I would take my envelope, cross three avenues and make my way to Something Else boutique on 86th Street.
I teased my hair six inches to the sky, applied enough blue eyeshadow to my eyelids, you had no choice but to notice my almond shaped eyes. Lastly, I ripped the tags and put on my silk turquoise jumpsuit. Maryann stole her father’s car out of the garage and picked me up at exactly ten o’clock. Studio 54 was packed, the line to get inside the club wrapped around the block but Maryann grabbed my hand and walked us straight to the front of the line.
“I’m a friend of Val’s,” she told the bouncer guarding the door.
At the time, I only knew Val as one of the neighborhood guys. He, like most of the guys our age living in Bensonhurst, hung around with the old-timers, the made-men, goodfellas—you know the type of men I’m talking about. Gangsters.
I didn’t know if Val was in fact a made man or part of a family, I just knew one day he would be and I understood why Maryann had taken a liking toward him. Who didn’t find that type of man sexy? There was nothing more attractive than the unattainable bad boy who exuded charisma.
The bouncer lifted the red velvet rope and escorted us into the pulsating night club. I remember the song playing as I stepped foot onto the colorful dance floor that lit up as the patrons danced the night away, ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ by the Bee Gees. It was one of my favorites and I wanted to dance so badly but Maryann had other plans, taking my hand as she dragged me across the dance floor to the bar where Val stood. He was surrounded by a bunch of guys, some I knew and others were a mystery. A delicious mystery.
“Order us a couple of Long Island Iced Teas and I’ll be right back,” she shouted over the music.