Good Vibrations Magazine

How hard was it?

All he’d had to do was call her, just like he’d said he would. He’d been the one to ask her out, after all.

He could have emailed; she had three accounts. Or there was texting. How hard was it these days to get a message to someone that you couldn’t make a dinner date?

But there’d been no call or message. When she finally swallowed her pride and called him, no answer. Her email the next day, lightened with a touch of humor, went unanswered. How stupid she felt at this point in her life to be checking the phone, checking her inbox. This was just what she’d told her teenage daughter not to do – sit and wait for some guy to call.

She was already angry when she pulled into the parking garage at work and started unloading some boxes of magazines from her trunk.

And she just got madder: Here she was in a new outfit that she’d picked out with him in mind, imagining how he’d react to the ribbed top that hugged the gentle curves of her breasts and waist. All that ending in a low-rise miniskirt and a pair of high-heel boots. God, what a waste. She could feel her nipples grow hard – either from the chill of the garage or the thought of what he would typically want to do at such a sight.

She leaned into her car trunk to reach one last box, making her skirt ride up and exposing her thighs.

“Can I help you?” said his voice behind her.

* * *

She had read that one reason women keep going back to men who mistreat them is that the makeup sex is so good. These guys knew how to turn on the sweet talk and flattery and promises. This wasn’t abuse exactly, but it was rude, thoughtless, heartless even. He must have known she was hurting, waiting for an explanation that never came.

Or could he really just have been busy? How was she supposed to know whether she was overreacting?

“You said you’d call,” she told him. “This was something you said you wanted to do. But you didn’t call and I felt forgotten.”

“Look. Here’s what happened,” he said. “I thought I’d have time after my son’s lacrosse game. But then the team went out for pizza, and I was going to call you from the restaurant, but it was loud, and by the time we got home it was late.”

She still suspected he had just forgotten.

Another flash of anger ran up her body. She closed the car trunk and marched off. Those boots sure were made for walking, and she bet they looked damn good walking away from him. Oh, where she’d like to put this pointy toe right now.

“Please don’t walk away,” he said. “I’m hard just talking to you.”

That weakened her knees right there, but she wasn’t going to give in. She turned to walk into the building, but he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear. But it wasn’t the words that got to her. It was his breath gentle on her face, that sweet breath that brought back a rush of their closest moments together. There was nothing but good in those memories.

He pushed the button for the elevator. The doors opened right away and he pulled her inside, pushing the bottom button. Within a second of the doors closing he was on her mouth, his hand moving up her thigh and under her skirt. Just as fast, he was into her panties and pushing a finger up into her cunt like he was staking his claim. As soon as she gasped, he pulled out, smoothing her skirt as the doors opened to the garage basement, dim and deserted except for voices and laughter floating down through the stairwells.

They walked behind the elevator shaft, where he kissed her again, taking her lower lip gently between his teeth. She felt herself soften to him, her body opening up in warmth and wetness.

But first, she wanted to make her point. She leaned back against the concrete and lifted her foot slowly, pushing him back with her boot. She pressed the pointy toe against the fly of his jeans, then moved it under his balls while she looked him in the eye.

“You treat me like that again … .”

She pulled him back to her and reached inside his jeans for his cock. She noticed he wasn’t wearing underwear. Sexy. Or was that just another divorced dad thing – less laundry to do?

She wet her index finger with her tongue and ran it slowly around the rim of his thick cock. His eyes glazed over and his head tipped back. She bent down to see a shimmering bead of liquid. She loved that visual evidence of his desire for her and its salty smell. She licked up the underside of the shaft to the ridge just under the head, making her tongue hard there, then soft as she swirled around the head. If this was the last time, she wanted to give him something to remember her by.

She cupped his balls, tugging them gently. She reached underneath them to massage her knuckle into that soft spot just beyond, eliciting a moan. Then she reached down instinctively to press against herself in rhythm with her mouth on him, building her own excitement by watching his.

He pulled her up to him and hoisted her against the concrete column with her legs around his hips. He pushed into her and started to raise her skirt when she spotted a security camera overhead.

“We might have spectators,” she said, and pointed up at their electronic intruder.

“We don’t want to end up on YouTube,” he laughed. “I can just see the title: Hot parking garage sex.”

He took her hand and led her deeper into the basement, past old desks, filing cabinets and broken swivel chairs. He stopped in front of a drafting table and spun her around to face away from him. He circled her breasts from behind, then grazed her waist, pulled up her skirt and ran his tongue along the small of her back. She bent over the table, knowing just what awaited her. Her breathing got faster as she spread her legs, pushing her ass up in the air for him.

In a second, he unzipped his pants, pulled aside the crotch of her panties, spread her cunt and plunged into her with a groan. “Oh God,” was all she could say, over and over, as she spread her arms out in front of her, grasping at the table as he slid in and out. She stretched one leg back and wrapped it around one of his to improve the angle.

He reached around to press his fingers against her mound, sending shivers up her body. He rubbed her that way, pounding his cock into her faster and faster from behind until she exploded in waves that shook her so hard her hands clutched the table for balance. A second later his head fell forward against her neck, wet with sweat.

“You feel so good,” he growled. “But I want to fuck you again face to face so I can kiss you this time and watch you come.”

She reached down again to his jeans and couldn’t help but wonder:

How hard was it?