Elena's Lovers & Hush!

Chapter One-3

She was blushing again, wondering how she could succumb to these lines so easily. Then again, she knew the answer the minute the question came to mind: there was something about Nikos, how he was wise about her, knowing her better than men she had known for months or even years. She believed he could bring out the devil in her if it was there.

“I’m scared of you,” she admitted.

He chuckled, as his eyes flared. “You should be scared of me,” he said. “Because I’m so inside you. You wouldn’t know how to say no to me. You don’t want people that close to you.”

“How do you figure that?” she asked.

“I know a lot about you. I know you’ve had some tragedy within the last few years.”

“How can you tell?”

“The sadness in your eyes. Almost as if your heart’s been ripped apart.”

Curious that he understood her sadness for what it was. Though it hadn’t really been a tragedy, she’d treated it like one when Sid Wilder delivered his apologies to her just before she was suppose to walk down the aisle on her father’s arm to marry the scoundrel. Then again, maybe Nikos meant the car accident that left her in the hospital, in a coma several weeks. That hadn’t been a tragedy either, because she’d been so elated to be alive, in one piece, and not as messed up as the man who’d been driving.

“So tell me more,” she asked,

“You don’t give your heart up easily,” Nikos continued. “You like s*x. You buy sexy clothes because your friends push you into it, but you want them too. And sometimes you get drunk because it’s easier to explain your excesses in the morning, when you haven’t been sober and you’ve f****d all night, and you haven’t even cared for the men you’ve been to bed with.”

“Damn, you’re blunt,” she replied. If it had been any other man she would have indignantly closed in on herself, and closed him out. But Nikos wouldn’t let her do that. “How do you know all this?” she asked.

“I practice looking beyond a woman’s body, and then it’s like reading from a book with big print.”

She sighed sadly, holding inside her the bittersweet truth that this would never be a love to last, and yet she desired it so . . . “I guess we’re going to have a little Spanish fling, and when it’s over, I’ll be more broken hearted than I was before.”

“No,” he immediately countered her. Her took her hand in his and caressed the fingers one by one. “We’ll have our Spanish fling, and you’re going to feel made love to, and screwed and f****d and used and loved to such a degree you’re going to know forever how deep you can be in love with your body and the soul of a man.”

“You speak so cosmically,” she laughed, to ease the tension. “Like you’re taking this affair to another dimension.”

“Perhaps that’s exactly what’s happening. You think too concretely, when what is truly real is mystical, and hard to touch. Is the breeze any less real because you cannot see it? There’s nothing visual for what you taste with your tongue, or breathe through your nostrils, but they are the stuff of reality. Just like what’s in your heart.”

“You’re making me doubt everything,” Elena answered him.

“That’s good.”

“But if there’s no future with this . . .”

“There’s never a future,” he replied, leaving her stupefied. “Now, get up.”

He said it kindly, but insisted she comply, and she was pulled to feet without any resistance. Moving across the dance floor in his arms, she forgot “forever” for a while and existed solely in the minute. Just as he promised, Nikos’ hand went to her ass, just barely covered by the dress. She was sure the people around them could see too much, the way he found his way inside the slit and was holding her bare skin in his hand. Like lovers, the two danced long into the night, where she was drunk only on the roar of sensations.

***

Nikos was vacationing in a villa at the top of a mountain overlooking the sea.

In his bed that night, Elena could hear the pounding surf against the cliffs that surrounded the sheltered beach; she could taste the salt on his skin and her lips. She could touch the eroticism in the air with her fingers that were so alive from touching his skin. She could feel the stimulation of his body heat before she even laid her hand on his resting p***s. How soft in her hand that flaccid piece that could speak with such power when it was engaged. How when it was in her mouth, and her lips surrounded it, she could feel it begin to swell inside her. How when she moved her mouth up and down, tightening her jaws around the thick rising stalk, it seemed to take charge of her, and she was no longer in the control the way it was demanding that she not back away until she completed what she began. Fully erect, it was almost too much to manage, but Nikos was demanding it, his hands pressed to her head, holding her long hair gently without wavering, so that she became his private orifice for release. The miracle in the act was that she didn’t want to stop until the ending was reached, until her lips had tightened so thoroughly about the shaft and head in their steady moving motion, that his c*m was spewing into her and then around her mouth and across her face as she backed away and allowed him to watch. The pungent sweetness was a taste she’d not had in many months. It had been far too long.

Running her tongue around the rim of his c**k head, she watched him jerk happily stimulated, until it became too much for him to stand anymore, and he finally insisted she stop by pulling her up to his arms.

“You’ll take my balls in your mouth next time,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

He held her to him affectionately until the aspect of his eyes suddenly changed, his once calm emotional state now gleeful.

“Ah! I made a promise to you earlier,” he told her jumping from the bed. Pulling her along, Nikos took her to the bath.

“Oh, you’re wicked,” she told him, seeing the straight razor in one hand, the bottle of shaving cream in the other.

“You’ll look better, like a babe naked here,” he said. “It’ll feel like silk. Now, sit here, and lie back.”

Elena trembled, resting back on the bathroom bench with her legs wide open. He sat on the floor between her open thighs with a basin of warm water at his knees. Gently smearing the cream about her pink/brown pubis, the soft mound the plump labia and deep recesses of her s*x, he then let the razor whisk away the offending hair, as if he’d performed this ritual a thousand times.

“Damn! This is turning me on,” she giggled.

“Stay still, you don’t want me to slip,” he warned her, when her hips began to gyrate.

“But it tickles,” she said.

“It does more than tickle,” he retorted. “If I placed my finger inside you now, you’d be spurting juice all over my hand.”

“Then why don’t you do that?” she asked anxiously.

“Because I’m shaving you,” he replied, none too happy by the insistent tone of her voice.

(This would be their only quarrel.)

Only when he was done and every bit of hair was in the basin on the floor did he help her climax. She bucked as his fingers penetrated her like a c**k, moving as swiftly, jolting as easily, bringing her right to an edge. But he stopped just before she was about to ride over the top.

“Oh, you’re not!” she wailed her protest.

“I’m taking you with my mouth,” he reminded her of his earlier vow, and pulling her from the bench, he led her back to bed.

Pressing his lips to her hairless labia, moving his tongue between them to find her hole, he burrowed into her feminine home with such fervor that in her excitement, she clawed at him for more. Swept by sensation, another climax came and went leaving her exhausted, thinking it time to sleep even if Nikos had other thoughts.

They made love for hours before dawn appeared in the sky, and Nikos finally took her weary body to the pool outside, where they swam in the clear warm bath of water. It was not a swim to invigorate her, but one to soothe her more, so she’d sleep well even in daylight hours. In the fading starlight, as the sun brushed the horizon with pink, he held her close in bed; and they cuddled underneath the covers, slipping off to a restful slumber entwined in each other’s arms.

***

“Hey, sleepy head, are you going to stay here all day?”

Sandra’s voice came as swiftly as the brashness of a winter cold to awaken her.

“Where am I?” Elena said as she looked around.

“You’re on the patio, hon, you must have come up here while I was out cruising. Looks like I got a date for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, tonight. It’s just five. The guy says he may have a friend for you.”

“But I already have someone, I think,” she said.

“Really? Who’s that?”

Elena shook her head and looked around seeing nothing but daylight, no traces of night at all, just the dying of a day, the way the sun was lower in the sky. It wasn’t night, it wasn’t even sunrise, it was clearly afternoon.

“You say this is Tuesday?” she asked.

“Has been all day. You okay? You don’t have heat stroke from the sun or something?”

“I don’t know. I feel a little dizzy. But I was with someone. I know. A whole day.”

“No,” Sandra said shaking her head. “I saw you a few hours ago on the beach. You’ve probably been dreaming again.”

“It couldn’t have been a dream, I know that.”

She bolted upright on the lounge, and looked at the chair a few feet away.

“Hon, I don’t know. But I think you’d better get a grip.”

“No. No. I know what happened, this wasn’t a dream. And look at this scarf.” She jumped up and retrieved the blue silk from the chair, running the smooth surface of it against her face, thinking she could smell Nikos’ fragrance as well as her own. “He bought this for me.”

“Who?”

“Nikos. He came up to me on the beach, and we . . . we,” she was stumbling over words that seemed stupid now, “we made love for hours, a whole day in fact.”

The blonde shook her head as the two moved inside. “Sometimes dreams are very real,” she said, trying to explain this to herself.

“It was more than a dream. He was real, flesh and blood. I know it as sure as I’m alive. Maybe I’m dreaming now!” She was inspired and pinched herself, as if that would awaken her from the nightmare of losing a day and lover all with the blink of an eye.

“You really believe this, don’t you?” Sandra said.

Elena looked into her friend’s compassionate face. Sandy wasn’t laughing at her anymore, or even looking astounded. She simply looked bewildered, as bewildered as Elena was feeling. “No.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“You do have this scarf,” Sandra said, reaching out to touch the soft surface as if she thought it would dematerialize before their eyes.

“Yes, I have this scarf,” Elena said. “And I can smell him here…”She walked inside as Sandra followed. “And in this room.”

“Smell him?”

“A cologne I don’t recognize.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was tall, very well built, big muscles, blonde, kind of like an Adonis. He was Greek.”

“And a good fuck.”

“I’ve never known anyone like him. It was like he read my thoughts, and understood what my body needed. Not just my body, but my soul’s needs.”

“Your soul?” Sandra repeated, scrunching up her face, too appalled to do more.

“Yes, my soul, like things that mattered most.”

“This wasn’t some ordinary f**k, was it?” Sandra said bluntly.

“No.” Elena shook her head. She’d been wearing a silk floral robe, and opening it, she stared down at her chest. “Does this look like a dream?” she asked her friend, showing her the small red mark of a love bite on her left inner breast.”

“There’s another higher, a real small one,” Sandra told her, seeing what her friend couldn’t.

Elena went to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. There were subtle marks that hadn’t been there that morning, or when she went to the beach that afternoon, though they were certainly obvious to her now, signs of Nikos loving her. She could have closed her eyes and his face would have appeared out of the foggy obscurity; he would have been as real as his flesh had been real to her for one long lingering day.

“You don’t suppose you met him, came back here and screwed, and then he left you sleeping? You’re just mixing up the time?” Sandra asked.