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Kayla's Rebound

By: J_R_Ashunwhy



I stared at the foaming mess of a beer sitting in front of me almost amused by the lack of skill the bartender proudly displayed in pouring such an eye sore, and equated the chaotic swirling of browns and whites to the tumultuous emotions storming my mind. I did not want to be here, Julia knew it, and apparently the bartender had guessed it in his blatant disregard to properly pour a stout. "It'll settle," Julia had laughed off my frustration when the beverage first arrived, "honestly, I don't know how you can drink that crap anyway; it's too bitter, and gross."

Too bitter...and gross. James never said anything like that to me, even when he did not approve of my selection. He would just give me that understanding head-nod to remind me that he not only accepted, but cherished, the differences between us. He would never openly disprove of what we could not agree on; he would simply laugh. 'Yin and yang...only opposite,' he would explain to anyone who did not understand the motion, 'yin, the female element, is supposed to be dark and mysterious, but my yin is my pure, vanilla angel, the lone light illuminating my opaque path..."

I swallowed hard, feeling the slight sting radiate across my eyes that warned me to stop thinking. I forced myself to blink a few times, clearing my eyes and my mind, and then refocused my attention on the beer before me that was starting to slowly resemble the proper liquid to head ratio. I fingered the outside of the glass softly, allowing for the chill of the drink to mask the real reason for why my hands were shaking. Damn Julia. 

I would have been happier to drink at home, especially this weekend, but she would not hear it. She wanted to go out, no, she needed to go out to try to find herself a date for Valentine's, and she felt she needed to take me with her to find one for me as well. Julia felt it was her responsibility to force me into awkward social interactions, as if she could somehow help drink and dance the widow out of me. For how hard she had tried to understand at first, as time dragged on, she refused to accept the fact that mentally, I was not progressing. For her, my state of mind was just a passing phase, an inconvenient illness at best, and with the right social, medicinal combination, I could somehow beat this constant emptiness that I had never before known any part of. I had known pain and loss intimately before I met James, but I had never met the acquaintance of emptiness before him. I know he never meant to be the reason for why that introduction was made...I know he never considered the abrupt ending between us to ever be a plausible one.

Cocksure bastard. I raised my glance from my untouched beer, and caught a glimpse of myself in the wall-sized mirror behind the length of the bar, surprised to find mine was not the only set of eyes staring at the train-wreck sitting smack dab in the middle of the bar because her best friend sat her there. Surprise, like many emotions these days, found it difficult to express itself on my face, and though I was surprised, I sat staring impassively at the strangers sitting together in the mirror. 

I swore my eyes were blue before James left on what was to be his final tour; I vaguely remember him commenting on my bright blue eyes shinning excitedly over the idea that when he returned home to me, that he would have no need to return to his militaristic mistress, and that he would finally be all mine for the first time in our marriage. Trick of the light maybe, but my eyes seemed a dull grey in the reflection. I had cut my hair recently to try to give myself a change I thought I needed, but as I focused on the new chin-length style I had already grown to loath, I began to notice more and more of the glistening, silver strands woven with the golden. That, I knew was not the fault of the awful florescent lighting; I had noticed the increased failing pigment during James' previous tour, and I had joked with him about it, telling him that my early thirties was too young for me to start looking like my worry-driven mother.

"Are you friends with the firecracker in the red dress?" The mirrored image of the man sitting next to me asked, and I nodded. Naturally straight, jet black, waist-length hair, deep mocha-tan skin, and a perfectly round ass: of course he was interested in Julia. Most men over looked me when Julia was with me, especially when that care-free party-girl was dancing. "So why aren't you dancing with her?" He gave a smug expression when I shook my head. He turned himself on his chair to face me, and leaned closer to me. "You do speak, don't you?"

"I have a very extensive vocabulary," I remarked in my atypical deadpan voice that I had sadly grown accustomed to hearing, "mostly of colorful and vulgar insults though, I'm afraid."

He laughed. "Looks like I was wrong about which one of you was the firecracker." His voice was light in jest, and yet solidly confident. It has been far too long since I have heard anyone use that tone of voice with me; usually people chose their words carefully, and delivered them in a high, uncomfortable pitch which always suggests how uneasy those people are to be around me. 

I turned to look properly at my bar companion, and almost found myself snorting over the appearance of a man in his late forties, maybe early fifties even, trying too hard to look like he does not give a damn anymore. His t-shirt of an irrelevant band was old and worn, as were his jeans and boots, and he emulated a persona that wanted you to believe he was still that bad-ass, bike riding, ass-kicking, mother-fucker he was twenty years ago. He had a long torso, and sitting, he towered over me, but I assumed that standing would produce similar results. He had very broad shoulders, and quite a bit of muscle definition still strained against the fabric of his shirt. There were only minimal strands of deep chestnut brown remaining in his mostly grey hair, though it was kept stylish. Any wrinkles on his face were minimal, not deepened by constant exposure to the elements, and the light stubble left on his face suggested to me that he never went more than a few days without shaving. My first thought had been something along the lines of poser, but now as I studied him closer, I was leaning toward mid-life crisis, and visually scanned his hand for any trace of a ring; there was none, but his clean nails were neatly manicured.

"Like what you see, Misses?" My companion taunted me. "Either that is a very brave man, or a very stupid man that you have, for him to feel comfortable letting you two out of his sight. You ladies together, look like trouble to me." He gave me a wink, followed by a warm smile as my thumb folded under my hand and began to rub against the rings still worn on my right hand. "Isn't that the wrong hand?" He smugly continued to unknowingly torment me. He paused for a moment, but he took my silence as a cue for him to ask another painful question. "So which is hubby: brave or stupid?"

I took a deep breath. "Both," I snapped, "army...killed in action." The words felt like razorblades slicing at the sides of my mouth as they escaped, and my companion seemed to allow for the words to cut across his face just as sharply.

"Fuck." He whispered under his breath. He turned from me to gulp a bit of his own beer before he turned back to me, remorse plaguing his eyes; so much for that could not give a damn attitude. "I'm sorry...I didn't..." he began to stutter "...you look too young for that...I didn't...I don't know what to say...I feel like I should thank you for his service, or something."

"Please don't." I choked, remembering myself holding a folded flag in one arm tightly to my chest, desperately trying to drown out the sounds of a lone trumpet while my niece—too young to understand—held my free hand, kicking at the dirt beside me. I felt myself begin to tremble, but I made a conscious effort to stop my response before anyone else noticed.

"Your girlfriend is trying to make you put yourself back out there then..." My un-wanted companion accurately concluded, taking a deep breath, and allowing for his confidence to return to him. I nodded. "Are you ready for that?" I bit my lower lip and shook my head. "Then if you would allow me to, I would appreciate it if you would let me make it up to you for being such an ass-hat just now. I'm Mike, and if you would like someone to talk to, or just need a scapegoat to point at if your friend starts badgering you about how you should be talking to someone, I'm your guy."

The only reaction I could muster was a solitary nod. "Kayla." I breathed, barely parting my lips enough to force my own name from them.

"Beautiful," Mike gave me one of those confident winks, but I turned back toward my beer, and began to run my fingers up and down the glass once more, "you know your friend is only trying to help, right?"

"Why, did she put you up to this?" I sneered, feeling myself edge to the precipice of telling Julia off.

"No," Mike cleared his throat, "those gorgeous eyes of yours did." I felt as though I had been smacked across the face by each word in turn as he spoke them; bad-boy of yesteryear was actually flirting with me. He paused for a moment, allowing for me to recover, before he continued in a sweetly deep, soft voice. "I'm actually kind of jealous; I would have loved to have someone like your friend, be there for me. I'm not trying to relate to what you're going through, I know I can't, but I did go through a very nasty divorce five years ago. I can tell you from that experience, that just getting out and making yourself available is not only one of the hardest steps toward healing, but that if someone helped you get out there, that you are going to appreciate them more so because they made you do it."

"I don't think that's possible," I found myself cracking a small smile thinking about how Julia and I had met, "she was my roommate throughout most of college, but is really more like a sister to me than anything else." There was no response from Mike, and after a moment I turned to face him once more, confused by his broad, playful smile. "What?"

His cheeks reddened slightly. "I'm just appreciating the glorious sight of a pretty young woman smiling, that's all." He looked almost childish in that moment, and he reminded me of some embarrassed adolescent finally coming clean about a crush. My smile grew for just a second at the thought before the imagined scenario forced me to think of James once more: high-school sweethearts...foolish, and blissfully ignorant.

"So," I took a deep breath and consciously made my voice sound more pleasant than previously heard, "after going though a very nasty divorce, what would you name as the thing that helped you to overcome that loss, the most, Mike?"

Mike's face blushed an even deeper crimson, but his voice remained confident. "Are you sure you really want to know?" He teased me lightly. I almost could have laughed from him teasing me; I forgot what it was like to have someone really mean to tease me. I nodded instead, finding my small smile return to my lips. "An absolutely incredible one-night stand with someone who was practically a stranger." Awestruck at his audacity, I rolled my eyes, and frowned, disbelievingly. "It's true!" Mike exclaimed with a laugh. "But, I understand if that specific form of therapy doesn't sound all that appealing to you. It might just be a guy thing."

Thinking to correct his assumption, I could not stop myself from laughing. "I received the same advice from Julia." Mike laughed with me, and for the first time that evening, I felt calm enough to actually enjoy my beer.

"See?" Mike teased me playfully with a shrug while I sipped lightly at my beverage. "You've heard it now from two different sources; must be true."

Damn it felt good to be able to laugh honestly, and not have to force the response to appease a person desperately trying to make me feel normal again. I selfishly wanted to make Mike keep me laughing for the rest of the evening just so I could remember what a normal conversation was like, but luckily, he had the same idea, and no coaxing on my part was necessary to keep him tossing jokes my way. Mike insisted on buying my next beer for me, to keep me drinking as well as talking, and throwing my inhibitions away from myself for a few hours, I allowed for it. As long as he continued to make me honestly laugh, and feel normal again, I did not really care if I had another beer. I knew what my limits were, and that would not even bring me close.

Julia kept her distance from me while Mike was beside me, but she did send me a picture text message late in the evening of Mike and I laughing together, with his arm around the back of my chair. I had grown to accept the fact that I found Mike attractive, and I smiled at the picture, allowing myself to realize how we looked together. The text message that followed: 'cute bad-boy, take him home,' had me outraged, regardless, and I sent her a scathing reply. It was some time before she texted me back, but when she did, her message caused me to panic: 'left with my own bad-boy, have fun with yours.' 

'Worst...friend...ever.' The idea was juvenile, but it was all I could think of in response, and was my immediate written reply.

"Everything okay?" Mike asked, suddenly curious, watching me twist my face over Julia's kissy-faced emoticon response.

"Fine." I lied. Giving up on speaking to Julia, I turned my gaze from my phone to Mike's warm smile, and I wondered for a moment if I really had been lying. Before Julia's text, I had felt fine; better than fine, actually.

"You sure?" He teased me, and I nodded. "Well, Kayla, I don't know about you, but I definitely need to stretch my legs for a bit. What do you say to getting outta here, and walking to someplace...quieter?"

"And just where would you have in mind?" I asked in a slight panic, immediately feeling ashamed of myself for the alarm; young, attractive...single...why should I feel so torn about allowing myself the opportunity to feel normal for a night. I was not naïve; I knew what he was hoping our conversation would eventually lead to, but I wanted to see just how confident my bold companion really was.

Mike shrugged. "There's a nice little late-night frozen yogurt place around the corner." I laughed in shock, and after a moment, Mike joined me.

"Are you being serious?" I managed to giggle. Mike froze for a moment, and then smirked to himself.

"I could be," he breathed, smiling deviously, "unless you're thinking of giving my notion of some naughty therapy a shot, in which case, that nice little frozen yogurt place does happen to be just a few blocks down from my hotel." I swallowed hard, and weighed my options.

"Hotel?" I questioned, curious.

"Yup. I'm only in town for a few days for a business meeting, and home is an eight hour flight that way." He pointed to the far corner of the bar, but I was not sure of the direction. "Tonight could be the most awkward, botched attempt at a good time that you have ever experienced, though I highly doubt that outcome," he winked, "and you would never have to worry about accidently running into me again. I don't think you could find a more proper one-night stand, rebound candidate."

I laughed. "You seem far too complacent with that title, Mike."

"Imma guy," he shrugged, "and you would definitely be worth it."

"Thanks," I breathed unsure of myself, "but I don't..." I could not seem to finish my sentence; my mind just went blank on me as if in protest, refusing to allow the rejection to be spoken.

Mike leaned over me, and gently pressed the side of his face against mine to whisper in my ear. His course stubble brushing against my cheek tickled my skin, and the familiar, yet distant, sensation sent a gentle tremble down my spine. "Only what you want, and only what you're comfortable with." He breathed his words so lightly, I barely heard them. Mike reached over me, and gently placed his hand on the top of my knee closest to him. Such a modest gesture woke a deep repressed need in me, and my head swam while my body screamed out for me to accept his offer, but my mind continued to refuse to provide any answers for me. "I understand, Kayla." Mike whispered in defeat, and slowly withdrew his face from mine in retreat. 

My emotions fluctuated dangerously between embarrassment, lust, and a deep melancholy remorse, but I could not determine a lone root cause for why I would feel that way. I felt like I had somehow led Mike on, even though I had not meant to. Part of me wanted to feel...anything really, and Mike was the first to genuinely make me feel something. Perhaps, he would be able to make me feel passion too if I let him try; even if it was only for one night. When I thought I had settled on my answer, I felt as though to go through with it, would mean to somehow cheat on James. 

Mike cleared his throat, but when he tried to lift his hand from my knee, one of my hands quickly moved to clasp his hand back down against my leg. Without being able to produce a cohesive line of thought, my hand had moved independently of my mind in a reflex to assure me that this was exactly what I needed. I had to force myself to meet Mike's gaze, but I was glad to see a warm smile on his face, and not a mimicked look of blatant confusion which I was sure was displayed across my own.

"How about we get some air," Mike suggested in his confident, deep voice, "and just start walking? I'll leave it completely up to you to tell me where you would like that walk to end."

There was such warmth and kindness found in Mike's voice, that I found it easy to slide myself off my chair, and grab my things without any further protest. I was surprised at myself to not hear any nagging questions, or dismissive comments in my mind while we walked. I could not force myself to think; just act. Mike continued our light, joking conversation as we walked, but I would only nod from time to time until he stopped me just before we reached the store front of a local frozen yogurt establishment he had mentioned. I looked into the window of the little shop filled with shy, laughing college students on pre-Valentine's dates, and took a deep breath, but as I turned back to face Mike, he surprised me with a very soft, passionate kiss.

I was in shock for only a moment before instinct took over. I was exceptionally glad my mind had stayed so hopelessly blank now; there were no second thoughts, or double guessing my actions as I allowed myself to lean into Mike, and kiss him back. An odd sensation felt--like the feeling of a weight being dropped in my stomach--did not stop me, but instead made me desperate for Mike's touch. The weight only reminded me of the immense emptiness I had been feeling earlier this evening, and I needed to do something to fill it. When we parted, I ran my tongue across the corner of my upper lip, and almost giggled at the taste of a strange man's mouth that I found there.

"Well?" Mike beamed, delighted to see the wicked smile growing on my face. "Are we stopping, or continuing?" His playful tone, and musty, sweet smell teased my senses while his stubble gently tickled the soft, skin of my cheek when he leaned into me once more to whisper in my ear.

"Continuing." I whispered back to him. Mike turned his face and gently left a quick kiss against my cheek before he stepped back from me, and extended a bent arm to me. I smirked, beside myself, at the charming gesture produced by the 'bad-boy' standing beside me, but I hurriedly moved to place one of my arms in his before he could take offence to my reaction. We walked that way, arm-in-arm, all the way to his hotel room, only breaking from our embrace so that Mike could locate his cardkey and open the door. 

Mike reached into the doorway to turn on a light, and then allowed me to enter the first room before him so that I could cautiously review my new surroundings. I walked though the hallway from the door to discover a kitchen-ette-dining space that led to a very spacious living room. There were several closed doors that led off from the living-room, and imagining that one of them must lead to the bedroom, my heart began to race. Starting to feel myself over-heat in panic, I removed my jacket, and tossed my things into one of the dinning chairs. "I think this must be larger than my first apartment." I tried for a joke to calm myself, looking about the space, and moving to stand beside the island counter in the kitchen area. Mike laughed while he closed the door behind us, and casually filled the gap between us.


Kayla's Rebound



"Mine too, but work is paying for it as retribution for two delayed, and one cancelled flight on the way out here, so I'll take it." I nervously spun to face Mike, and found him standing immediately in front of me once I completed my turn. Mike leaned over me to place his forehead gently against mine, and raised both of his hands to gingerly hold each of my upper arms. "It's your night...okay? Tonight is all about you. I want you to tell me what you think you're ready for."

"That's awfully considerate of you." I sighed enjoying the warm embrace of my tall, strong companion.

"In a way, I know where you're coming from, and I don't want to push you." I trembled slightly in his arms. "So, you dictate... Scared?" He teased, and I nodded. "Because it's been awhile...or because you've never been given charge of your lover before?"

"I don't talk dirty." I gasped nervously, confused by the idea, and Mike smiled.

"A bit repressed are we? Well then, maybe tonight, you should." The combination of his smile along with his confident, teasing tone of his voice, made me stop breathing. "Would you prefer if I started then?" He continued to tease, and I nodded, dumbfounded. "Would you like me to kiss your neck?" Mike breathed.

"Yes, please." I whispered, feeling myself tremble harder as I imagined the sensation of Mike's lips against my skin.

Mike chuckled to himself while he leaned even closer. "I told you: tonight is all about you, Kayla. You don't have to beg me for, and thank me for anything." I felt Mike's lips slowly brush over the side of my neck, making several light touching passes before his teasing lips finally made full contact in a kiss. I took a sharp breath, and held it as one kiss led to another. His tongue dared to press past his lips, and feeling him taste my skin, a small moan escaped me while my knees grew weak. 

I melted into Mike's arms, and he caught me with a dark chuckle. He quickly moved his hands to my hips, and easily lifted my much smaller body to sit on the counter behind me. Sitting in front of him, I was allowed my first look of Mike's hazel eyes flashing hungrily in lust, and the corners of my mouth twisted into a naughty smile. I leaned back, and placed my hands behind me on the counter to brace myself--confident the look in Mike's eyes suggested he was about to lunge at me--and then slowly spread my legs apart to tempt him into doing so. Mike kept himself absolutely still. 

"What would you like from me, Kayla?" He teased with a raised eyebrow. I stared hard at Mike in a mix of confusion and frustration; James would never play games with me, and would never have me act the way Mike was asking for. James always took the lead in bed, and we only made love: slowly, gently, in our bed. The idea of Mike allowing for foreplay on the kitchen counter was arousing, but not enough to break my shyness to give him commands. Feeling defeated and helpless from my own meekness, I sat up on the counter, lowered my hands to the hemline of my blouse, lifted my blouse clear over my head, and tossed it somewhere behind me. If I could not tell Mike what I wanted, then surely he would get the hint if I showed him.

Mike tilted his head in awe. "Are you trying to tease me, Kayla?" He growled lightly as his eyes traced over my red and white polka dot bra. I quickly shook my head, embarrassed that my actions had been misinterpreted. "Well I'm not moving until you tell me to."

I swallowed hard. "I would like you to kiss my neck again." I breathed, feeling almost childish to say such a thing.

"Is that all?" Mike growled with a growing smile.

"No," I quickly assured him, "I would also like...to feel...for your hands..." Mike took a step forward, and pressed himself against me, between my spread legs, causing me to gasp. He made a show of raising his arms bent up in front of him, waving his fingers to taunt me, and then leaned over me to gently kiss my neck. His mocking gesture broke my reserve. "Touch me," I moaned slightly, enjoying the warmth of his mouth against my skin, "I want to feel your hands all over my skin, all over my back, and chest."

"Yes, ma'am." Mike chuckled lightly to himself, wrapping his large arms around me, and holding me close to his chest. His fingers spread across my skin, tickling my flesh, and I twitched a little at each tickle. Mike kissed the very top of my neck, just under my ear, and then slowly began to kiss his way down the side of my neck, stopping just as he reached my shoulder.

"Don't stop," I breathed, raising a hand to run my fingers through his hair, "kiss my shoulders too." Mike kissed his way across my shoulder, and then keeping a very strict respect to his given directions, he limited any further movements of his lips to only my shoulders, and the sides of my neck. His hands were more exploratory; he felt his way slowly down my back, across my toned stomach, and up over my chest, but he refused to slide his fingers under my bra. 

At first, I was completely overwhelmed by the modest actions of Mike's gentle touching, and soft kisses, but once the novelty wore thin, I found myself desperate for more. I whimpered in frustration, feeling Mike had rested his hand against my breast, but refused to properly fondle it. Mike gave a negative sounding hum, and then chuckled. 

"Take it off." I groaned, realizing that he really meant to make me say everything that I wanted.

"Take...what...off?" Mike teased confidently between kisses. I had thought the meaning had been obvious, but taking his cue, I made my request more specific.

"Take my bra off." I clarified. Without hesitation, Mike quickly located the clasp on the back straps of the garment, unhooked it, and removed the garment from my body. He leaned back from me, and looked over my exposed chest, moaning lightly to himself while his eyes moved across my firm, perky, breasts. I rolled my shoulders back, and pushed my chest out closer towards Mike, but he kept himself still. Noticing that he began to shake slightly in anticipation, I suddenly found his little game, and the power he had given me with it, intoxicating. "Your turn," I bashfully attempted to explore the extent of his limits, "remove your shirt."

Mike smiled for me, and then slowly lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it in much the same fashion as I had done for mine. I carefully bit my lower lip while I visually inspected the large muscles in his arms, neck, and shoulders. His muscles on his core were not as lean and clearly cut as I remembered James' and I found myself thankful for that difference. The difference in their body types did not stop my hand from trembling when I reached out for Mike, and allowed for my fingertips to begin to explore his chest. Mike let loose a deep sigh, but he held his position to give my hands full access to his skin.

"Do you like the look of my breasts, Mike?" I teased him, catching him staring hard at my chest.

He nodded with a warm smile. "I most certainly do."

I felt myself blush while I fought with the words trying to force their way from my mouth. "Then play with them." I shrugged, trying not to sound as frightened as I was to have an almost complete stranger, actually touch my breasts.

Mike turned his glance to stare into my eyes. "Is that an open invitation to do whatever I would like to them?" Mike smirked. "Or do you have something more specific in mind?"

"An open invitation," I answered with a shaky voice, "touch them, kiss them...lick them." I choked out the last command, and immediately felt ashamed of how embarrassing it was to hear myself say the words.

Mike, undoubtedly noticed my embarrassment, and mocked me for it. "May I suck them," he moaned lightly, his eyes alight with his own amusement while he smiled, and I nodded, "and may I bite them?" Mike growled playfully. My mouth fell open, and my lower jaw trembled while I stared wide-eyed at the man standing before me; never had James and I engaged in anything other than loving, tender sex. With a devious grin, Mike leaned closer to me, and kissed my quivering lower lip. "I need an answer, ma'am," he gloated, "tonight's for you; I won't do anything you don't want me to, but I need to be told first."

I shook my head. "I've never..." I began to whisper, but cut myself off, feeling even more foolish as Mike softened the expression on his face into a warmer, more loving smile.

"Then, may I demonstrate so that you know for sure the next time you're asked?" The idea that I would have to do this all over again, with someone new, almost crushed my will to continue. I felt my eyes sting a bit while I considered that this was just the start of my being reintroducing into the world of dating, and feeling slightly numb, I nodded. "Kayla?" Mike breathed lightly, forcing my attention to refocus on his eyes. Mike slipped a hand to the side of my face, and kissed me softly. "You are so incredibly beautiful."

I sighed as his compliment allowed for a small smile to return to my lips. I forced all of the negative thoughts from my mind and focused completely on Mike, feeling him slowly kiss his way back down the side of my neck, and across my collarbone. I gasped when I felt Mike's hand touch my side, but I began to relax when he smirked to himself over my nervous reaction. Before I could relax completely, I felt Mike's warm, slick tongue flick across one of my nipples. 

Groaning deeply, I wrapped one of my arms across his back and caught myself against the counter with the other. Mike wrapped his arms around me to hold me in place while he sucked the nipple into his mouth, gently at first, and then more forcefully until my hips slid forward on the counter towards him while I moaned. I looked down to watch him, and was slightly amazed to see Mike's peaceful face, completely content while he worked. Mike pulled me even closer to him, released my nipple from his mouth, and then gently brushed his lips against the erect nipple. He looked up to my face, smiled to himself when he knew for sure that I was watching, and then replaced his lips with his teeth. Mike was very graceful, and gently bit and pulled at my nipple with precision care to not actually cause me any pain. Heat rose in my cheeks while I wrestled with the knowledge that this new-to-me move, was incredibly arousing, and was making me even more desperate for Mike.

"So," Mike gave my nipple another flick of his tongue, and then paused, "was all of that acceptable?" I nodded my head vigorously, and Mike chuckled to himself. "Then, just let me know when you feel comfortable enough to move on." I thought to question him for what could be next, but as his lips enclosed around my nipple once more, I sighed and relaxed in his arms.

I lost myself in the euphoric pleasure Mike was able to produce in me. He alternated between my breasts, teasing each in turn, while his hands carefully explored my exposed skin. Mike's fingers seem to edge along my waist, begging for permission to be allowed to venture under the fabric of my jeans. "Please." I whispered. Mike brought his lips to meet mine, and he kissed me hard. Overwhelmed with my need for him, I kissed him back just as aggressively, and to the surprise of us both, I sucked his lower lip into my mouth, biting his lip gently.

"Please...what?" Mike groaned; his lip still trapped playfully between my teeth. Frustrated that he still insisted on making me embarrass myself, I gave his lip a gentle tug before I released it.

"Finger me." The command was short, blunt, and sounded like a dare as it escaped my lips. Mike made no comment on my aggressive change in tone, and did not need to be told twice. As soon as I spoke the words, Mike worked the buttons of my jeans free, and pulled the zipper loose. He pulled at the sides of the jeans against each of my hips just enough to give himself room, and then he slipped one of his large hands under the fabric, and between my spread legs.

I felt the pressure from Mike's fingers, but he kept his fingers between my jeans, and my panties while he began to feel his way around my swollen lips and clit. "No," I groaned, and Mike's hand froze, "really finger me." Mike's hand retracted slightly, and when it straightened itself once more, his fingers slipped under my panties and touched my skin. His touch felt like a paralyzing electric shock though my body, but my hips, acting of their own ambition, thrusted wildly into his hand.

"Could I get you to cum, just like this?" Mike groaned, causing my blood to pound in my veins while I panted. Release? Somehow I had not given thought to the idea of actually achieving an orgasm; just a sense of normalcy. James found it very difficult to make me reach an orgasm without extensive amounts of foreplay, and yet this stranger was teasing me with the idea as though he could simply will me to orgasm whenever he wanted.

"I doubt it." I whispered, unable to deny the growing arousal that I felt.

"That almost sounded like a dare." Mike chuckled while he forced two of his fingers into me. I gave a small shriek at the unexpected rough force of penetration used. "Sweet fuck, Kayla, you are so tight." Mike groaned, forcing his fingers deeper against my restricting muscles. He paused for a moment, and staring into my eyes, he dropped his voice into a warm, loving tone. "When was the last time you played with yourself?"

My eyes went wide while I huffed my breath out of my nose. Even more embarrassed over Mike's intrusive question, I felt my cheeks go red as my embarrassment slowly grew into anger. He had no right to ask me such things, and why should it matter to him? I had never entertained the idea of bringing myself to release, not even once, since the morning of receiving my unwanted visitation from two soldiers in their full dress uniforms, but he did not need to know that. I had never considered being with anyone else until tonight, and I felt no need for him to know that either. Enraged by Mike's question, I opened my mouth to cuss him out, and insist on leaving, but as my lips parted, Mike forced his lips to mine. 

I moaned against his mouth while he kissed me hard, but the pitch of my moan increased when I felt him move his thumb to my clit, and begin to gently massage it. His fingers moved back and forth against my insides, feeling around as if looking for something, and then settled themselves to massage the spot that upon contact, made me grind my hips against his large hand, with a heavy groan, once more. My heart raced, pounding against my chest, but I dismissed the sensation, concentrating fully on the movements of Mike's fingers slowly elevating me to the edge of bliss. I was amazed at my own actions, and of the sounds I made because of Mike...Mike...I was desperate for Mike...

"Let go for me, Kayla." Mike whispered, brushing his lips softly against mine. 'Let go', a voice repeated in my mind, 'for a stranger, like a slut.' I tried to envision what I must look like from another viewpoint somewhere else in the room; a horny widow, allowing herself to be fingered by a stranger on his kitchen island in his hotel room. Desperate for Mike, not James: a stranger, not my husband, and not even a boyfriend. Without meaning to, I found my mind calling me all manor of degrading insults. I felt that odd sensation again that I was somehow cheating on the man no longer my husband, and I felt my muscles plateau in frustration while I mentally fought myself over the idea. "Let go, baby," Mike cooed softly, "let go of all of it."

I suddenly wanted to cry; I could not quiet my mind, I could not allow myself to reach an orgasm, and I could not satisfy the desires of the stranger trying to aid me in that mission. I thought to push Mike away from me, to just curl up there on the counter in shame and self-pity until I could find the strength to dress and leave. Mike had other plans for me, and feeling my muscles stagnate while I whimpered, diving deeper into my own self defeat, he moved his mouth from mine, back to my breasts. 

It was the feeling of Mike's teeth gently nibbling at my nipples that allowed my mind to go blank once more. It was such a new and exciting sensation; something so completely Mike, that I was able to focus only on him again. I felt my inner muscles clamp down tightly against Mike's fingers working harder and faster inside of me, and for a moment, I felt...nothing. With the vibrations of Mike's fingers inside of me and against my clit, mixed with the oral stimulation to my breasts, that moment passed just as quickly as I felt it, and soon I was overcome by an immense sense of pleasure while my body pushed itself over the edge.

My hips thrusted wildly on Mike's hand, while my orgasm tore through the entirety of my shaking body, and though I was able to calm my hips, my body continued to tremble in waves upon Mike's hand while I recovered. I was not aware of what noises or facial expressions I had made when I met my release, but as I recovered, I noticed Mike was watching my face intently; staring at me in total awe.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Kayla." Mike whispered, finally slowing his fingers, but not stopping them. I groaned loudly, and continued to pant lightly while I realized I was smiling. Feeling bold, I put one of my hands to Mike's chest, and lowered my hand until I felt the large bulge swelling in Mike's pants. 

"Allow me to return the favor?" I purred, but Mike shook his head while removing his soaked fingers from me. He gently grabbed each of my wrists in either of his large hands, and forced my wrists to sit against my lower back while he pressed himself even harder against me. I was amazed at how wet his fingers were against my wrist, and was confused by his refusal.

"It's ladies night, remember?" Mike joked, gently sucking at my breasts while keeping my arms restrained. I felt my heartbeat pound in me once again, but this time, it was not by feeling my heart pound against my chest: I felt my pulse pound deep, inside my satisfied pussy, still begging for more. "And with your permission," Mike continued, "my tongue would love to be where my hand has been."

James had only ever treated oral--for me--like a mandatory chore. I felt my head nod before I was conscience of debating the idea, but Mike did not notice it while he flicked his tongue across each of my nipples. I looked about the room, and realized I had never achieved an orgasm either on a counter-top, or in a kitchen before. Knowing how satisfying the experience had been, I wondered if the results would have been different if Mike had tried to get me off in the bedroom instead. For no reason at all, the idea of a bedroom became the enemy in my mind; another obstacle for me to have to overcome if I ever wanted to feel whole again.

"Not here," I moaned, surprised to hear the deep, lust-filled voice that escaped my lips, "take me to bed, Mike."

Mike groaned deeply, released my wrists to grab my hips, and pulled my body forward off the counter onto his hips that thrusted upward to meet mine. I gave a small cry, and quickly wrapped my arms around his shoulders while hugging my thighs tightly to the sides of his body. Mike laughed darkly to himself, moving his hands to hold my ass while I settled against him. "Whatever you want, baby." Mike sighed, and I leaned over him to kiss him.

I giggled as Mike began to carry me like that through his hotel room so easily, and then I giggled...because I was giggling. When we reached the bed, Mike playfully dropped me onto the mattress so that I bounced sitting up; still giggling like a fool. Without hesitation, Mike bent over me, grabbed a hold of the hemline of both my pants, and my panties, and peeled both from my body. I kicked my heels free before he could complete his task, but once I was sitting naked in front of him, Mike gracefully fell to his knees on the floor in front of me. With quick, confident motions, Mike pulled my hips to the edge of bed causing my upper body to fall back against the mattress, forced my legs to bend so that my knees were in my chest, and then parted my legs as far as they would allow. Only when he lowered his face to kiss my stomach, did not frivolous giggling finally cease.




Kayla's Rebound



"I bet..." Mike breathed, kissing his way down my stomach "...that I can get you to cum again for me." I wanted his lips to continue until they meet my clit, but he veered at the last possible moment, pulled back from me, and then kissed across each of my inner thighs in turn. I sighed in frustration when Mike moved to my thighs, and he gave a dark chuckle. "Could you allow yourself to relax enough for me that you could allow for yourself to cum again, Kayla?" Hearing him say my name from his position between my thighs made my hips give a shudder.

"I think so." I moaned, hoping my answer was good enough to persuade him to continue, but it failed. Mike kept kissing my inner thighs, lightly biting or sucking at them from time to time until I gave one of my defeated whimpers.

"Did you forget how to ask for what you want?" Mike called playfully from the floor, and I groaned.

My cheeks flushed. "You said that you wanted to give me oral." I whined, and Mike laughed.

"You are such a goody two-shoes; give you oral." He mocked me.

"What do you want me to say?" I gasped, feeling him suck harder on my thigh.

"What you refuse to," Mike growled lightly, "I would love to hear you let loose that naughty little bad-girl trapped deep inside of you."

I laughed. "And how can you be so sure she exists?"

"Because out of any man you could have had thus far, you waited, and picked me." Mike stopped, and turned to look up at my confused expression; after a moment, he smiled. "Could you bring yourself to ask me to eat your pussy?" He asked smugly.

"Eat?" I gasped, blinking in awe while that nasty voice in my mind began to fling slut-shaming insults at me once more. "My...my..." Mike's smile grew wicked while he nodded.

"What do you want from me, baby?" Mike sneered through his devious grin. "Demand it."

I swallowed hard, trying to summon my confidence, fighting to not laugh. "You said you wanted to eat my pussy," his smile grew wider, "now, fucking do it." I growled.

"Thatta girl!" Mike beamed with pride, and lowered his face to slowly run his tongue between my lips, and around my excited clit. The insults in my mind against my own actions grew louder, and I smiled as I embraced them; all of them were slowly becoming more and more accurate. 

My hips bucked against Mike's invading tongue while it thrusted in and out of me, but Mike moaned and continued his efforts with more vigor, instead of pulling away from me. James would always pull away, or try to hold me completely still. I reached for the back of Mike's head, ran my fingers through his hair, and then clenched my fingers together to hold on tightly to the strands trapped in my fist. Mike moaned louder, and put even more of an effort into the movements of his tongue. Giving in to Mike's fantasy of releasing some trapped bad-girl side of me, a sudden, dirty thought overwhelmed my own internal slut-shaming, and without thinking it through, I held Mike's head in place by his hair while a grinded my wet pussy across his face. Mike groaned madly, and shook his head enthusiastically, as though he were trying to rub even more of his face against my skin.

When I released him, Mike moved his mouth to my clit, and sucked so hard at it, that I screamed. Panting, and unable to focus, I was vaguely aware of Mike slipping a finger back into my pussy, but was surprised to feel that finger be removed from my pussy, to migrate even further south. "Mike!" I gasped in terror, but I could not finish my thought, overwhelmed by how exciting the taboo act he was trying to accomplish, was.

Mike rubbed the finger coated in my juices, against my anus that felt like it had sealed shut as soon as he reached it. At first, I thought to stop him, but then I could not dare to; this was another totally Mike move. Only Mike had ever done this to me, and so I needed to feel it. 

He groaned madly and continued to rub the finger in massaging circles against my ass while I panted between desperate moans. I reached over my head for something to hang on to, not sure of what sensation to expect, and grabbed at one of the pillows that I found there. "Yes, or no, baby?" Mike groaned against my clit.

"Yes." I gasped. When his finger finally found its way into my ass, I screamed, and dug my nails into the pillow above my head, clutching it with all of the strength that I processed. I felt more of Mike's fingers be inserted into my wanting pussy, and then felt his fingers thrust into each of my holes, in a slow, alternating, and methodic rhythm while he continued to suck at my clit. Having never felt anything so exhilarating, I was not surprised to feel another orgasm build so quickly.

My mind could not prevent me from my second release; the act of Mike fingering my ass was too completely disgusting, and distracting for me to not focus on, and for that, I was ecstatic. My fists closed tighter against the pillow, and my hips trashed against Mike's face during the build-up, but once I actually came, I flailed so uncontrollably against the bed and Mike, that he was forced to pull back from me. I had screamed my release, but once Mike's fingers and mouth left my body, I groaned madly while I continued to twitch against the top of the bed. Each time I started to relax, Mike would blow his breath across my clit, or run a finger across my ass to make me flail and cry out, until he tired of it.

Mike straightened himself, still kneeling between my legs, my thighs now trembling against my will, and he gently forced his hands under my back to lift me back to my previous sitting position. Mike leaned forward to kiss me, and smelling my own orgasmic juices smeared across his face, I pulled back from him at first. Mike pulled me even closer to him, and holding me forcefully in place, he kissed my mouth angrily. I cried against my closed lips, refusing to part them on my own accord, but as Mike continued to kiss me, I gave in and kissed him back. Realizing he was giving me another taboo first to focus on, my tongue timidly found its way into his mouth. Mike moaned as my tongue ran circles against his, tasting myself, and finding that I enjoyed the taste.

When I echoed his moan, Mike chuckled to himself. "I knew that naughty bad-girl was in there; you came a hell of a lot harder with a finger up your ass."

"I thought you weren't going to try anything before I told you do." I groaned, not at all upset for him breaking his own rules.

"But I did ask," Mike teased, "would you have ever told me to do that without the prompt?" I shook my head. "Did you enjoy it, and would you like me to do it again?" I laughed while I nodded, and Mike joined my laughter. "Then tell me, Kayla," Mike sighed lovingly, "what do you want from me?"

"I want to feel you inside of me." I breathed, completely at piece with my decision.

"Done that," Mike chuckled, "you felt my fingers inside of you...you felt my tongue inside of you..."

I laughed, and then kissed his arrogant, mocking smile. "Will you shut up, and fuck me already, you sonuvabitch?" 

"Yes, ma'am!" Mike laughed in turn, undoing the button and zipper of his own jeans, and kicking off his boots. Mike stood, removed his jeans, gave a wink, and then removed his boxer shorts to proudly display the behemoth that had been trapped beneath his clothing. No wonder he had been so fucking confident all night. "Should I grab a condom?"

"Do they make them in size: monster?" I joked, turning my head to stare up at the magnificently built man standing in front of me, at my disposal. "I want to feel you, Mike," I breathed, my voice quivering slightly, "I need to."

With a sigh, Mike bent down over me, placing his hands on the mattress to either side of me, and kissed me softly. I reached for his face, and held either side of it with both of my hands while we kissed. Once I felt comfortable, I removed my hands from him, and used them to help slide myself back, further onto the bed. Mike knelt on the bed when I made room for him to do so, and keeping his face close enough to mine to continue to kiss me, he crawled along the top of the bed with me over my body. When I settled myself, he gently pressed his forehead against mine, and took a deep breath.

"You're positive?" Mike sighed, and I slowly nodded my head against his. I carefully pulled my legs out from under his body and moved my legs to either side of his. "How do you need it, baby?" Mike groaned, turning his face to look me over. "Do you want it slow, gentle, and loving?" For a moment, I saw a vision of James between my legs, and panicked. I shook my head. "Or can I get my bad-girl to come out, and play again?"

Smiling, I nodded. "What did you have in mind?"

"With how tight that pussy is?" Mike teased me playfully. "I want to get nice, and deep...put your legs back where they were, and I'll show you." Confused, but still excited, I carefully pulled back each of my legs in turn, and then stretched them out straight, under Mike's body. He raised his upper body, and then tapped on one of my legs. "Now bend that one, but turn onto your opposite side."

"What?" I laughed before I could stop myself. Not missionary or doggie style; whatever it was, it was another Mike-only first, and I was thankful for it.

"Don't you laugh." Mike called playfully in a chuckle while he grabbed a hold of my legs. He carefully pulled them further down the bed, knocking me off balance, and forcing me to lay out under him, before he turned me onto my side. My laughter continued while he carefully picked up my top leg, and helped to bend it slightly before allowing for my knee to fall to the mattress. When I was able to contain myself again, Mike positioned himself so that he was straddling my straight leg, and feeling the size of him against my hip, I moaned eager for him to continue.

Mike pulled his hips back, pulling his cock against my hip, and then my thigh, before he settled the head of his massive cock at the entrance of my pussy. He waited until I looked his straight in the eye, and gave my final command. "Fuck my pussy." I purred, and with a broad smile, Mike began to slowly ease himself into me. 

I immediately gasped at the size of his cock painfully stretching my muscles, and after a moment, my hand closest to him, reached out for his chest. Mike froze for a second to allow for me to adjust, and then holding a hand over mine against his chest, he pushed forward until he filled me completely. I felt his balls pressed against the inner thigh of my leg left straight out under him, and I felt my fingers try to squeeze Mike's chest, running my nails along his skin.

Mike chuckled. "Feel free to scratch me up however you want, baby." I shook my head, but as Mike began to gently thrust his cock deep inside of me, I drew a sharp breath in a hiss, and dug my nails into his chest causing Mike to groan. Mike removed his hand from mine, grabbed a firm hold of my hip facing him with both of his hands, and pushed up on that hip, spreading me wider for him to penetrate even deeper inside me. I gasped and panted, still clawing at Mike's chest while his strokes remained soft, and loving, but once I grew accustomed to his size, Mike increased the speed of his thrusts.

Mike leaned forward, and placed each of his hands, in tight fists, against the mattress to either side of me. Seeing one of his strong, muscular arms in front of my chest, when he increased the amount of force behind his thrusts, I grabbed a hold of his forearm with both of my hands, and dug my nails deep into his skin. I had never scratched anyone up during sex, and being able to focus on all of the Mike-only firsts that he kept delivering to me, my mind never wandered from the thought of his fucking me as deeply as he could manage. My muscles pulsed wildly against Mike, and I felt his cock twitch precariously in response each time.

"Fuck, Kayla, I want you to cum first, baby." Mike growled through gritted teeth as he increased both force, and speed of his thrusting once more. I turned my face into the comforter beside me to scream at the overwhelming mix of pleasure, and slight pain his massive cock was causing me. "What do you need, baby? Whatever you want...just tell me." I was too lost in my own world, screaming out all of my pent up frustrations and all of my bottled up emotions, and twitching without reserve, to focus on interpreting and understanding his words.

Mike decided for me. He lifted his arm from behind me, licked his thumb, and then bending his arm back under himself, pressed his wet thumb gently against my anus. I felt myself open up further to Mike, and taking the opportunity, Mike pressed his thumb into my ass while fucking my pussy with as much strength as he could put behind his thrusts. 

There was almost no build-up required; it was as if my body had been sitting on the edge just waiting for the right combination. "Oh, fuck, Mike!" I yelled, feeling my body burn.

"Scream it, baby!" Mike called in triumph.

I did. "You're gonna make me cum again, don't stop! Don't fucking stop! I want to cum all over your huge cock as it fucks me!" My inner slut-shaming voice was completely silent in awe while I screamed out terms it would have used to make me feel embarrassed about my actions. My hips thrusted wildly across Mike's, and they fell into a needed rhythm that allowed for me to feel every bit of Mike's pulsing cock.

Though I had reached the tip of my orgasm, it was the pulsations of Mike's cock as he came deep inside of me that actually send me over the edge. He was cumming because of me, and that thought made me forget everything else. I groaned my final release, and then smiled while I felt my hips still grind against Mike, still pumping his spent cock, while he hissed through his teeth. I did not want to stop milking his cock until I had every last drop of it, but shaking himself, Mike yelled out briefly, and then pulled his body back from me. I felt his cock be forcefully yanked from my body, and yet, I still felt full like he was still buried deep inside me...full...I had been so terribly empty when I meet Mike.

Mike held his body over mine, panting and twitching as hard as I was, but he recovered much fast than I did. With a heavy sigh, Mike tossed himself onto the bed behind me, facing the same direction. He laid one of his strong arms around my trembling body, completely overcome in a stupefied, satisfied bliss, and pulled himself closer to me so that I could feel his cock against my skin once more.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Mike moaned lightly, and my smile grew, happy with my choice of such a considerate lover.

"Is it against one night stand, rebound policy to spend the night?" I asked timidly, and Mike laughed.

"Kayla, I would not be opposed to you staying for as long as you want...until I leave to catch my plane, of course."

I suddenly wondered what kind of meeting Mike had. "What does work Mike look like anyway?" I asked curious.

"Stay with me until morning, and you can see him in all of his full suit glory." 

"I somehow can't imagine you in a suit." I laughed, and with a chuckle, Mike pulled me in closer to his warm body. He wrapped his arms around me, and I smiled to myself, feeling safe and protected in his strong arms. I sighed, thinking about how many nights I had spent on my own, and of how deeply I had missed this feeling. "What is your meeting here about, anyway?"

"Potential relocation." Mike breathed lightly, his body growing heavy against mine suggesting he was drifting toward sleep.

"Would that mean you would be moving to live around here instead of an eight hour flight away?" I held my breath, hoping for the answer I wanted.

"Potentially." Mike breathed, slipping even further into sleep. I felt the need to breathe, but I could not find the will to. Equally, I found numerous questions circle my mind, but I could not find the strength to ask them. Mike cleared his throat--waking himself--moved his hand to under my chin, and gently turned my face towards his. He kissed my lips, breathing in deeply though his nose, and I found my own will to breathe again. "It would be very much so against one night stand, rebound policy, but..." 

"But?" I croaked out nervously.

"But...if potentially works out to be actually, and you haven't moved on to someone else by that time, then I would absolutely not hesitate to be with you the instant I got my ass back up here. First thing's first though," Mike teased, "you're not allowed to get your hopes up, and if things don't work out, you need to promise me, Kayla, that you'll keep allowing your friend to drag you out, that you'll keep yourself open, and that you will allow yourself to date again." I frowned at Mike, not caring if he could see me in the darkness or not. "Promise me."

I sighed, disappointed, and wondering what the chances of him actually relocating were. "I promise."

"That's my girl." Mike breathed, cuddling up closer to me, and falling to sleep with me held tightly in his arms.

Am I? I remembered Mike's initial invitation to the evening, and the promise he made that I would not have to worry about accidently running into him again if tonight did not go as well as it had, and I doubted anything that had happened between us since that promise, was enough to make him reconsider. "No," I whispered to myself, closing my eyes, and feeling my own body become heavy with sleep approaching, "I'm not."