The special ringtone on his cell phone he had set up interrupted his thoughts. He let the phone ring several times. He knew who was calling him. He shook his head with exasperation. He didn’t know anymore how to tell Claire politely to fuck off and to leave him alone. She had left him dozens of messages. Furthermore, she continued calling him every morning. The week he met Zara, he went straight to Claire’s house to tell her nicely that he was more interested in a platonic friendship rather than an amorous relationship with her. He remembered that she took the news pretty well that day, though now he knew better. He had hoped she would get tired of him if he didn’t return her calls and messages, but no such luck.
The phone kept ringing continuously. He set his glass on the top of the table and took hold of his cell. With an exasperated sigh, he held the phone against his ear. “Yes, Claire!”
“Hello, honey! It took you several seconds to answer your mobile phone,” she said, then added, “Aren’t you alone?”
He let a loud sigh. “Yes, Claire! I’m alone. Can I ask you a question?” he asked as he rubbed his neck, annoyed.
“Of course, honey, you can,” she replied innocently.
“Why do you keep calling me, huh? I mean, you call me every morning and leave me several messages about my whereabouts. It is getting very annoying, Claire.”
He heard her nervous giggle. “Don’t be silly, Peter. You make me sound like a stalker. I’m only calling you as a friend and nothing else. I’m sorry if my calls disturbed you. It won’t happen again,” she said. Somehow, he didn’t believe her.
“Well! As long as you remember that. I have to go now, Claire. Bye,” he said and cut the conversation short.
He threw his cell phone on the table and grabbed his glass again as he drank the water. He had to pay her another visit and explain to her exactly what he tolerated from a friend or not. Enough was enough.
He put his empty glass in the kitchen sink, then left the kitchen. As he made his way to his bedroom, he thought about his conversation with Claire. Something was not right about that woman, but he could not put his finger on it.
He went directly to his queen-sized bed. So what? He was a big man therefore he liked to sleep in a big bed. He crawled up the middle of the bed and lay down on his back with his hands crossed under his head. After he met his beautiful yet shy neighbor, those so-called urges, or desires to have different women, evaporated from the moment he laid his eyes on the sexy Miss Miller. Out of desperation, he searched out her name on the letter box located next to his, at the entrance of the building hall. He tried to recall the accident. He had to laugh about the strange situation that had taken place.
It had been one of those typical days where he had returned home tired and frozen to his bones. The only thing he wanted to do was to crawl into his bed and sleep until the next day. He had been so caught up in his own misery that he didn’t see the person carrying a big shopping bag until after the collision, when he found himself on his butt. Then he had looked at the other person to make sure she was all right.
He had been paralyzed, as if Cupid were shooting one of his arrows at him. She was beautiful, her flawless visage surrounded by beautiful bouncy curls. Her big brown eyes, like a doe, were crowned with perfect arched eyebrows. He had reckoned she might be of Mediterranean origin, or close to it. She had a gorgeous, sun-kissed tan and her hair was dark brown, almost black. Right then, she had looked so pissed off at him that her whole face had flushed. She had been breathing heavily through her nose, like a bull facing a matador with his red cap.
His eyes had moved from her face and down directly to her breasts. What a shock he had! They were remarkably large for her height and he saw her big nipples poking through her tight T-shirt.
He had smacked his lips and thought about suckling those little jewels. He wondered what color her nipples were, a dark brown or peach color? What did they taste like? Maybe they tasted like raspberry or… He had almost drooled that day. Even now, he felt his cock trying to burst. How could he help it? He shrugged his broad shoulders. He was a breast man.
After several attempts, she had succeeded in getting up and started to pick up her groceries from the floor rapidly. She had muttered to herself about men and chivalry. He had thought he won the lottery that day when she got up. She possessed the body of Venus. Normally he preferred his women tall and slender. However, this woman was curvy. She was lush like a pinup girl from the forties. She would be considered heavy by today’s standards.
While she had been busy picking her groceries up from the floor, and his gaze had caressed her curvaceous figure. She had a trimmed waist and a perfect ass—big, round, and high enough for her man to hold onto while he fucked her from behind. It was A-class prime ass and he felt his mouth watering again. He thought that he was going to come like a randy teenager that day. At the vision of her ass, he felt his cock leak and weep for release.
Still in his trance state and sitting on his butt, he had heard her excusing herself, then making her way to her flat. She didn’t even cast a second glance toward him. By the time he had stopped lusting, gotten up from the floor, and apologized, she had her door shut. He had tried to talk to her several times since the fatal accident, but still she ignored him since that day.
His scent was like an aphrodisiac, she could not get enough. Without her knowledge, her hand moved in a small circular motion against his back while they swayed to the rhythm of the soft music. She felt him shiver.
She liked the feel of his chest against her tummy and chest. It caused her nipples to pucker into hard little diamonds, her tummy to quiver with desire, and her wet pussy to clench in emptiness.
She felt breathless, almost lightheaded, and she hoped he didn’t notice her condition. When she lifted her head to look at him, she saw his desire in his eyes. It made his beautiful hazel eyes go almost darker.
“I have a confession to make, Zara.” His voice was hoarse with desire.
“Yes?” she squeaked.
“I feel so weak and I get turned on at the same time when I’m in your arms, sweetheart. You’re the sexiest little thing I’ve ever seen!”
Her heart pounded so fast and hard, she couldn’t say anything, only moan, which drove Peter to wrap his arms around her. He pulled her so close to him that she became a part of him.
“I’m going to kiss you now, sweetheart,” declared Peter.
When she looked into his eyes, Zara lost it and before she could agree, Peter kissed her. It wasn’t a light kiss. It was the kind of kiss she expected and craved. He actually ravaged her mouth. He plunged his tongue into her mouth to devour, and she moaned. Still, she didn’t try to stop him. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She raked her fingers through his thick hair.
She couldn’t deny it, she wanted him as much as her next breath of air. When he pulled away from her, she panted like she couldn’t get enough oxygen in her lungs. Slowly she opened her eyes to look at Peter. His eyes were half closed and he was shaking. His lips moist and slightly parted, he also gasped for breath.
“What’s wrong?” she softly moaned.
He got hold of her hands. “We need to have a serious talk, Zara!” he said. Leading her to the couch, he faced her.
“You’re important to me. I want you to stay with me tonight, sweetheart.” He kissed her sweetly on the lips. “And I’m not talking about a one-night stand.”
She felt safe as well as comfortable with Peter. It felt like no one could hurt her while she was in his arms. She wanted him any way she could get him.
She lowered her eyes. “I don’t know what to think right now. Then again, I’m willing to try,” she added with a whisper.
She thought her heart was going to pop out of her chest. Could she hope? She drew in a deep breath and smelled his scent. This small gesture seemed to calm her down. It seemed to give her more confidence.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “Do you need me to give you a signal, big boy?” she murmured in his ear as she gave him a quick nip at his earlobe.
Suddenly, he sat down on the couch and she found herself on his lap. She straddled him, face-to-face and chest against chest. She didn’t take her eyes from him. A myriad of emotions passed on his beautiful face. Without breaking eye contact with her, he began to slowly pull down the zipper on the back of her dress.
Peter pulled the dress down gently as he set her arms free along the way with such gentleness, like he was undressing a baby.
He leaned in and kissed her neck and shoulder. His kisses were light and just skimmed the surface of her skin. When his lips touched her nipple, he sucked it into his mouth. She fisted her hand in his hair and thrust her breasts out. She totally lost it.
“Yes, please, suck them harder,” she moaned.
She felt the thick length of Peter’s cock between her legs push up through his trousers. She felt wicked as she started to grind herself against him. He groaned her name as he pinched her nipple from one hand while he sucked the other.
“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?”
She groaned. The harder he sucked, the louder she moaned and the harder she ground against him. It felt so good.