Brock lived on a quiet side street; in the home he had grown up in. Unlike the other houses on the street, his was freshly painted. The front yard was small but well kept. Palm fronds whispered in the light breeze, and I panicked.
It was a mistake to come here. If I went through with this, it would change everything between Brock and me. I did not want to jeopardize my only friendship. The door opened just as I turned to leave. Brock casually leaned against the doorway. “Dinner’s almost ready. Are you coming in?”
I hesitated, not sure if it was the aroma of food or Brock’s taut body making my mouth water. “Is that bacon I smell?”
“I wrapped the shrimp in it.” That settled it. Bacon makes everything better.
The inside of his house was just as neat as the outside. Grabbing a few things from a small kitchen, he guided me to the backyard. We nibbled on the shrimp while he grilled steaks. Over dinner, I asked him about the books in his living room. One entire wall was taken up by bookshelves. Brock explained that he never went to college, but it did not mean he could not educate himself. The teacher in me found that admirable, and a little sexy.
The nervousness I felt when I first arrived faded as we talked. We both knew the reason I was there, but he did not rush me. In fact, I was wondering if I had done something to change his mind. Then, as I was helping him clean up, he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck.
When I turned to face him, he slipped a finger beneath my chin, tilting my face towards his. Eyes the color of the waters surrounding this tiny piece of paradise stared back at me. Eyes that seemed to know everything I was thinking. A shiver ran through my body when he touched the back of my neck. His lips were soft, and I could taste the remnants of salt on his tongue.
Never had my senses been so alive. I heard and felt everything around me. The swish of palm fronds rubbing together, just beyond the open window. A slight breeze, cool against my hot skin. The scent of lilacs and jasmine. Brock’s soft touch, raising goose bumps on my flesh.
Lips now mashing together, we stood in that tiny kitchen, hands exploring one another. He smelled of limes and sea spray. Lost in his embrace, I could have been content to go on like that forever.
But then I felt his hardness press against me, and my body demanded the pleasures it had for so long been denied. I jumped into his arms and let him carry me to the bedroom. Our explorations became more feverish, Brock’s soft lips did not leave mine as we undressed one another. Once we were both nude, he stepped back.
Stripped bear and vulnerable, standing before this perfect specimen of manhood should have made me uncomfortable. But what I saw in his eyes was not naked lust. It was adoration. Any insecurities I felt about my body, faded when he said, “You are beautiful. I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone.”
Kissing his soft mouth, I whispered, “Don’t tell me. Show me.”
My breasts are rather large and a source of embarrassment. But Brock seemed enthralled by them. His finger traced the rim of my wide areolas, causing them to quickly pebble. With a soft moan, I put a hand behind his neck, guiding his mouth to my erect nipple. Taking it between his lips, he gently massaged my other breast. I gave out another moan, this one slightly louder.
My heart beat faster when Brock kissed and sucked his way down my torso. I ran my fingers through his thick head of hair, while he layered soft kisses across my belly. Eager to feel his mouth on me, I urged him lower. My breath caught when he paused and ran a finger across the small patch of fur just above my labia. “I want to taste you. Would that be all right?”
“Yes. Oh yes — please.” I gasped and spread my legs wide.
Brock traced along the line of my seam. A long ‘fuck, yes,’ escaped my lips. My moans grew louder with each pass of his tongue. The more he moved up and down my rapidly parting lips, the greater my need to feel a part of him inside me. “Put your finger in me,” I was almost begging.
I cried out in surprise when he quickly found my G-spot. By the time his mouth was on my pulsing nub, I was grasping at the sheets. Writhing in ecstasy, the first wave washed across my body, I cried out. “You are amazing.”
Brock seemed determined to give me as many orgasms as I could handle. Every time I came down from a high, he would change directions and coax another burst of pleasure from my still quivering body. Finally, I could take no more and pulled him up to me.
I was still trying to catch my breath. “Brock, that was incredible.”
“Why did you stop me? I was enjoying myself. You taste so good, and I love the little squeaking noise you make, right before you come.”
I playfully slapped his shoulder and giggled. “I do not squeak, besides even if I do, it’s not polite to point it out.”
“I guess I will have to listen closer this time.” He pinned my wrists above my head and kissed me deeply. He was growing harder against my twitching loins. Neither of us could wait any longer. He released my hands. Reaching between our fervid bodies, I grasped his shaft and guided him to my hunger. “I want you so badly, but it has been a long time. Please be gentle.”
“I will be.” His eyes never leaving mine, he slowly inched forward. My body tingled with bliss. As he moved deeper, I gasped, and he paused, causing me to cry out, “Don’t stop now.”
Wanting his entire length, I gripped his firm buttocks and drew him deeper. When he reached my depth, he held himself in place. Hands on my shoulders, he leaned down. My eyelids fluttered beneath his soft kisses. Then, with a fiery passion, he kissed me on the mouth. My hips twisted and turned, my needy pussy pulsing around his thickness demanding attention.
We moved together, and I felt an electric jolt shoot through my body, like nothing I had ever experienced before. I knew from the look in his eyes, I was not the only one to feel it. It was as if our bodies were a perfect fit for one another. Every contour, designed to bring maximum pleasure. Every movement, increasing desire, pulling us closer and closer.
My senses were alive, and I felt an intense awareness spread over me. I felt every beat of his heart. Heard every breath he took. Felt every ridge of his fingers moving over my body. The taste of his salty flesh, strong on my lips.
An electrified pulse began humming in my core. Growing in intensity, it spread across my body, drowning out every other sensation.
Chests heaving, we made love as if our lives depended on it. Eyes never leaving one another’s. Brock’s cock swelled with each thrust. Wanting to feel every bit of him, I clenched the tight muscles of my pussy when he bore down.
Despite how incredible it felt, I could not wait any longer for release and whispered, “Come with me, Brock.” He spasmed and the orgasm which had been building since the night I met him finally released. Holding him tight, I cried real tears.
Brock looked at me with concern in his soft eyes. “Are you all right?”
Sweat was pouring from our bodies, I was panting, and tears continued to flow down my cheeks. I assured him I was fine. “I’ve just never come that hard before.” He kissed me, softly this time.
Eventually, he rolled off and pulled me close. I with my head on his chest., until I felt myself getting sleepy. I got up and dressed. “You know, you are welcome to spend the night, right?”
I told him I appreciated the offer but did not want a hundred questions from mother in the morning. When he offered to walk me home, I reminded him it was just a couple of blocks, and I would be fine.
I needed to get away from him and clear my head. Even though he had given me the best orgasm of my life, it was not the real reason for my tears. I was falling in love with him.
There was no future for us. Brock loved the life he had built in Key West. I knew he would never leave and at the time, I could not imagine myself ever getting used to the constant heat and humidity. It was ridiculous to think things between us could ever work.
Against my better judgment, we continued to see each other. Although he never seemed to grow tired of my company, Brock said nothing to make me believe his feelings were as strong as mine. It did not matter, he made me happy and I was willing to take whatever affection he gave. For the first time in my life, I was living in the moment, not worrying about the future.
My heart was not the only thing I opened to Brock. I considered him very open-minded. When I shared my fantasies with him, he was receptive. These were things I had fantasized about, but never dreamed I would get to try. I thought him a willing participant. But looking back, I realize the things we did, made him see me in a different light. Not a particularly good one.
When I first came to stay with my parents, I tried to find a teaching position in the area, but quickly discovered there were no openings, even for substitutes. Teaching is my passion and I hated living with my parents, so I began sending resumes to schools back home. I did not hear anything back for months
When I told Brock I had received a job offer in Indianapolis, all he said was, “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity.”
It broke my heart. I had hoped Brock would say he loved me and ask me to stay. But clearly he did not see me that way, and knew it was my own fault. I was devastated, having completely misread the situation.
I called the principal to accept the position and booked a return flight home. My time with Brock had been a learning experience. If ever I opened my heart to another man, my fantasies and desires would remain locked away forever.
I thought it might be hard to avoid Brock in the week leading up to my flight, but he made it easy and did not contact me. When it was time it was to leave for the airport on Saturday, I was in a sour mood.
The weekends are the busiest time for Mango Cove, with new guests checking in and old ones checking out. My mother was checking people in behind the registration desk. I did not stop to say goodbye. Dad had just finished putting my last piece of luggage in the trunk of the Buick.
"Not that I mind taking my favorite daughter to the airport but I thought maybe Brock would take you."
“I am your only daughter. And he offered but I turned him down.” I got in and buckled my seatbelt. I was grateful that even with the traffic, it was only a 10 minute ride to the airport. I am sure my father realized I didn't feel like talking. But that did not stop him.
“I have known Brock for a long time and he is quick to lend a sympathetic ear to your problems, but he's not one to talk about his own feelings. It doesn't mean he doesn't have them and I can tell by the way he looks at you he has them.”
“Not anymore,” I said. If my dad wondered what had happened he did not ask. He was pretty good about respecting my privacy but even if he had asked there was no way I would tell him what really happened. After all, it was his nonsensical philosophy on ethical non-monogamy that had encouraged me to first broach the subject with Brock.
Eventually, I got over the pain and fell in love with Josh, but I never forgot the promise I had made myself. Seeing Brock in the coffee shop today brought back a little of the hurt. But what made me most uncomfortable was the burning desire I felt in my loins.