The Connection

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It wasn’t a wise idea to go see Joe, my ex-boyfriend, who lived two hours away and in another country. I knew he lived with another woman, but he told me through various phone calls and e-mails that he was not happy with her. I felt that same warm, comfortable feeling when we talked on the phone. I hadn’t seen him in three years and I just wanted to know if we still that connection. Our break-up had more to do with my friends and family than the relationship with Joe itself.

“He’s no good” and “he is just using you” are what I heard from them. But when we were together, he was attentive, loving, passionate and would do anything for me. He was a bit possessive, which I thought was cute. He became jealous easily, but I thought that was healthy for our relationship. I was his woman and he let the world know it. I felt safe when I was with him, like no one would hurt me.

When we spoke on the phone following our physical break-up, (it was hard to cut the cord emotionally), he would always ask who I was dating, then get upset if I told him I was seeing someone, yet he dated, slept around and eventually moved in with another woman, all the while professing his true and undying love for me.

And I fell for all the lines, for the words he used, the way he said them, how he practically purred on the telephone during intimate moments of mutual satisfaction.

All I knew is that I wanted and needed to see this man again—to see if our connection was still as strong as it used to be. We made arrangements two days beforehand and Joe called his boss, Evan, who owned a construction company, and we had a three-way phone conversation. Evan was able to give me directions to the job site as well as his cell phone number in case I got lost.

None of my family or friends knew I was taking the trip across the border. Had they known, I would not have been able to justify my decision, so I kept it to myself. It was the thrill of the adventure, the excitement and anticipation of seeing Joe again that kept me driving for two hours.

Heading into the city, I punched in Evan’s cell number and was greeted by a breathy sigh and a big ‘hello’ from a man I sensed was grinning from ear to ear.

“Evan, hi it’s Jade,” I told him.

I could almost feel him smile. “Hi Jade, are you in the city yet?”

“Just on the outskirts, and I’m looking for the exit you gave me.”

“It shouldn’t be much more than 10 minutes from where you are,” he told me.

After a few quick directions, we disconnected and I found myself maneuvering through three-lane then four-lane traffic like an Indy 500 driver. Heading off the main through-way, I came to a stop light, spotting a Harley Davidson dealership in front of me. It seemed like as good of a place as any to try Evan again on the cell, since I seemed to have gotten lost.

“You’re not far from me now,” he said. “Head straight, go to the church…it’s on your left, turn there.”

“Can you see me yet?” I asked, someone hysterical.

“I see you, you’re driving a red car…I’m standing in the middle of the road waving at you.”

I smiled and drove cautiously around the children playing in the street. My cell seemed to grow a life in my ear when Evan started to laugh. I could see the smile play across his lips as he waved at me.

“Hi there,” I said. “Nice shirt.”

He wore a lime green tee-shirt that was almost as bright as his smile. We were still connected by cell, but there was something else going on here. My stomach dropped to my knees, my heart thudded in my chest. I didn’t know if it was the excitement of actually being in the city in one piece, seeing Joe, or staring down a brown-eyed, dark-haired, beautiful man in a florescent shirt and well-worn Levi’s.

“I guess I can hang up now,” I said, as I drove up beside Evan. We disconnected at the same time, but our eyes never wavered from each other. When I stepped out of the car, the oppressive heat wilted me. Evan watched me walk toward him, hand extended in a warm welcome. I couldn’t stop smiling. It seemed like his jaw dropped when he got a look at me from head to toe.

My 5’10 frame holds more pounds than I’m comfortable with. I’m no perfect size 10…or 12 for that matter. I had on a pair of jeans, thong sandals and a short-sleeved blue blouse that clung to my curves. My short, wavy dark hair was gelled in all directions…it’s the new look, my stylist had convinced me, and it suits you. At the moment, I didn’t feel like I needed the gel!

“Hey, thanks for directing me here safely,” I said, grasping his hand in a warm gesture that seemed to last a little too long. I felt the currents of electricity running from his fingers to mine. Our eyes locked, as did our smiles.

“It was my pleasure,” he said. “Boy, Joe told me you weren’t all that, but you were his..I have to tell you, you ARE all that…and then some.”

We were still holding hands.

My breath caught in my chest. It was the heat of the day, I was sure of it. It couldn’t be the heat of this man’s words. I was sure he was talking about someone else. No one would be saying such sweet words to me.

In Göztepe Escort the excitement of meeting Evan, I hadn’t seen Joe yet. I looked around the job site and saw many young men in various stages of undress due to the almost 100 degree temperature. I saw movement at the top of a ladder which was propped against the building on which the crew was working, then I saw Joe. He was at the peak of the house, standing precariously on the ladder that was being held by a large, tattooed guy wearing only a pair of jeans and a bandanna. Nice eye candy, I thought, as I stood and watched, and waited.

Joe finally spotted me. He smiled, and gestured a “hello”, kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them to his chest. I acknowledged him with a subtle nod as I stood alongside the boss and surveyed the crew.

I could see Evan taking in the exchange, but he didn’t say a word. Joe didn’t stop work just because I was in town. I was somewhat disappointed in the greeting. I was expecting to be swept off my feet in a bear-hug of an embrace, kissed senseless and whisked away to a quite spot where we would make love for hours. The disappointment thumped my chest and, crest-fallen, I planted a smile on my face. My sunglasses hid the tears that swam in my eyes. I was here now, I thought. I might as well make the most of it. I wasn’t about to turn around and drive two hours to get back home.

I nosed around the job site for a bit, watching the men bustle and grunt in the heat, and listened to them curse and swear for about a half hour before Joe actually came over to say hello.

“Hey you,” he said. “You’re still beautiful.” He, on the other hand, looked rough and tired. He had grown a full beard which was now white with the age of a hard-edged 45-year-old. His piercing, blue eyes looked right through me. The bandanna he wore under his ball cap was drenched with sweat, as was his tank top that clung to his lean, muscled and tanned body.

“Hey yourself,” I said and leaned in for a kiss. It was a light, quick peck on the lips and then he was back to work.

Evan walked up to me as Joe climbed the ladder. I was finding it hard to breathe again. Had to have been the heat.

“Want to go for a drink?” he asked me.

“Who you talking to?”

“You…pretty lady…do you want a beer?”

Blush. I could feel it start from my kneecaps.

“Um, yes, I’d love one actually.”

“Cool. Hey, Joe, I’m taking your girl to the bar down the street. I can do that because I’m the boss.” He laughed, then ushered me to the street with a hand on the small of my back. My skin was on fire where he touched me. When I looked at him, his brown eyes smoldered. My belly flipped, and my heart skidded and came to an abrupt halt. I gulped in a mouthful of hot air and swallowed. Yeah, that beer would go down my parched throat really well right now, I thought. I needed to get this fire in my body under control before I combusted.

The bar was a welcome refuge to the scorching heat. A blast of air conditioning sent goose bumps shooting up my arms. We each straddled a bar stool and ordered a round of beers. Before I could fire up a cigarette, Evan reached for my lighter—which I held in my hand—and lit it for me.

“Thank you,” I said, inhaling deeply, sending a plume of smoke into the air.

“My pleasure.”

“What should we drink to?” I asked him.

“You make a toast.”

“How about…” I wanted to come up with something profound to mark this very surreal experience I was having with Joe’s boss. “How about, to endings…and new beginnings.”

He smiled. “Perfect.”

We clinked our beers, held eye contact and sipped.

“Do you play pool?” I asked Evan, a few beers later.

“Love pool, you want a game?”

“I wouldn’t want to beat you,” I said with a smirk. “Actually, to warn you, I haven’t played in ages. But I’d like to make a small wager.”

“You’re a hustler, aren’t you?” He stood to walk me to the back room where the pool table sat forlornly, in the dimness of a lone light bulb that dangled from the ceiling. Three small Formica-topped tables sat empty, their chairs held together by duct tape chewing gum. We took a table farthest away from the bar, in the corner, un-noticeable to those who entered through the front door. The bar wasn’t one noted for it’s decor.

“And the wager would be?” Evan tipped his beer to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine.

Those damn butterflies in my belly were feeling more like bats.

“How about a kiss,” I said, somewhat boldly, but a little bit shy.

He closed his eyes, smiled and sighed deeply.

“I like that,” he said.

“So, you beat me, you kiss me. If I win…well, we’ll see who does the kissing.”

We’ll see who does the kissing? Jesus, where did that come from? I was being just a bit too bold. But my mouth was in over-drive. It was like I couldn’t stop what was coming from my lips.

“I don’t think I can lose this bet,” he said, still grinning.

He racked the balls and allowed me to break. A good crack on the cue ball sent the balls into a colorful frenzy. Zipping around İstanbul Escort the well-worn felt, not one dropped.

“Typical,” I said. “Women’s break…all bust no balls.”

He laughed. Oh God, what a laugh. It was magical. Like melting ice on my already frayed nerves. Evan eyed up the mess I’d left on the table, bent over (what an ass!) to cue up the high balls and started dropping them like sitting ducks. Talk about a hustler. He was dead-on and only missed after sinking all but two of his stripes.

“Your turn,” he said, glancing my way. He stepped back to the table to watch me. I felt his eyes on my butt, felt a little self conscience of that, but his appreciative humming got my juices flowing. The saliva pooled in my mouth and I couldn’t concentrate on the game.

It’s do or die, I thought—that is, die being kissed. That made me want to lose just to feel his lips on mine, but my competitive nature wouldn’t let it happen…at least not without a fight.

The first one was a long shot, lots of green, but the one-ball scooted into the corner pocket without much fanfare. The next three were just getting my balls out of the way, each sinking with ease. A fourth bank-shot was a little tricker, but the seven ball glided into the side pocket.

“Yeah, who’s the hustler?” he asked, lighting a cigarette and letting a waft of smoke drift over his head.

That’s all he had to say. Just to hear his voice behind me made me fumble the next shot. We were tied, both having two left in play, plus that dreaded eight-ball finale.

Evan was up once again, and taking aim, he wasn’t about to let a girl beat him at pool. I knew he was enjoying the competition as much as I was as he dropped his final two shots with ease.

Lining up the eight ball, he had a tough long bank and called it. However, after the eight ball dropped, the cue ball danced around the side pocket, dropping as if on a dare.

“Damn,” he said. “You win.”

He placed his cue on the table and turned to face me. I stood before him, cue in one hand, my other one on my hip.

“You did that on purpose,” I accused him. “Didn’t you?”

“Maybe, maybe not…who knows? Will you ever know? I don’t think so. If I lose, you get to do the kissing…some come here you sexy thing and kiss me.”

Was he talking to me. I almost wanted to look over my shoulder to see who was behind me. Oh shit. Time to put up or shut up.

His eyes danced with pleasure and a spark of heat flashed from the depth of those beautiful chocolate, mocha irises. Yummy. I licked my lips, slowly, the taste of my strawberry lip gloss losing its flavor with my nervousness. I swallowed, took a deep breath and one step forward. His arms dropped to his sides, hands turned upwards, summoning me.

Thoughts of Joe ran through my heart and slammed to a halt at my brain. Live life, he’s with someone, you’re available, Evan is here, you are here, Joe is down the street, you are here, Evan is here…my life with Joe flashed before me in the few seconds I let it control my head. As quickly as Joe rushed in, he was gone and I was one step closer to Evan. I reached for his hands and he grasped mine, both this time, and at that moment I knew that what we had felt in our welcoming handshake—something that was coming at me twice as strong this time—had everything to do with our connection and nothing whatsoever to do with the weather.

The air conditioning in the pool room was at its peak, and so were my nipples. He glanced at the silk blouse I wore, his eyes skimming toward those erect peaks, and I swear his too became taut under that crazy-colored lime t-shirt.

“Kiss me Jade,” he begged. “I want to feel those beautiful lips on mine.”

Oh God, I was coming undone. Here, in a biker bar, with a man who looked no more like a biker than I did. Here with a man, I had only just met hours before, who had turned my heart upside down with a glance, one who had jolted my nerves like live wires. My reaction to him was so strong and I couldn”t control myself when I went to him, when I squeezed his hands in mine and molded myself to his chest. His groan was all the incentive I needed and as excruciatingly aware as a ticking time bomb, I touched his lips with mine.

Slowly at first, we melted into each others mouths, testing, tasting, teasing, torturing. With just our mouths, we explored each other in a way that experienced lovers have mastered over time. His hands came up to cradle my face. The roughness of this working man’s fingertips were so gentle, so right. The pads of his thumbs stroked my cheeks and turned my head for easier access. He pulled away before deepening the kiss. His eyes were glazed, his smile slight, his breathing deep. My reaction mirrored his.

With my hands between us, flat against his chest, and the backs of them against my breasts, our hearts were thudding in unison.

“Kiss me again, sweet Jade,” he coaxed.

This time, I couldn’t hold back. This time, I needed to feel him from my fingertips to my toes. I wanted him inside me, beside me, around me, near me, in my heart, my mind, in my soul.

My Anadolu Yakası Escort hands went to shoulders, to his hair, and I tossed his ball cap onto the pool table. Grasping his locks by the fistful I pulled him toward me, our mouths fused in a molten lava rush.

His hands went around me, holding me close, rubbing the small of my back, my ass, back up to my shoulders, to my hair. Had we been horizontal, I would have been having an orgasm on the spot.

I needed to feel his bare flesh under my skin. I wanted to taste him, his nipples, his belly, I needed to feel him inside me. I wanted his erection to pound into me until I was senseless and begging for more.

He spread his legs, pulled me tighter against him and he sat on the edge of the pool table. Purposefully, I found my balance between his thighs and rubbed against him playfully, but painfully aware of what was happening between us.

“Feel that,” he said, taking my hand and placing it on the bulge in his jeans.

Oh God, he was so damn hard!

I murmured something incoherent and we kissed again, getting reckless on the pool table.

“You’re making me crazy,” he groaned. “I have to have you. I want to feel you, I want to watch your eyes as I thrust into you. Do you want that?”

“You don’t know how much,” I said, pressing my hand on his groin, kneading and massaging his package through the confines of his jeans.

“If you keep doing that, you might find out right here on the pool table,” he said.

I pulled my hand away, and placed it on my breast, my breath catching in my throat, my face and neck were flushed with the promise of something so totally and sexually fulfilling, I was having trouble breathing.

He tipped his head to touch mine, and as our foreheads rested against each other, our hands played with the buttons on my shirt, exposing the satin and lace of my bra.

“This is a nice color on you,” he said, tracing a finger along the shape of me. “I love purple.”

He dropped his hands even farther and unbuttoned my blouse all the way, exposing me and my purple bra for all his glory. He sighed heavily and crushed me in another embrace, his face the perfect height for his tongue to dance along my cleavage.

His hands engulfed my breasts, taunting, while his tongue played with the valley between. His thumbs found their way to my erect nubs, which he made even harder with a few erotic pinches and strategically placed bites.

With a swift tug, my breasts were exposed, spilling out of their confines and then quickly being sucked by that beautiful expert mouth. Those other patrons in the bar were but a thought away as his hot, swift, and teasingly torturous kisses and licks were stirring my senses. The blood was draining from my head and going directly to my pelvis. I could feel the dampness at my centre. I couldn’t stop the flood that was coming any easier than a herd of wild buffalo.

“I’m going to come,” I whispered to him. “If you keep licking my tits like that, I’m going to explode right here.”

With that admission, there was no stopping him. He was a man on a mission, and that was to make me have an orgasm in this biker bar, where people had no idea what was going on in the pool room.

“Oh God Evan, please…I’m going to come. Keep sucking my nipples like that,” I said, head thrust back, I bit down on the scream that was threatening to escape my lips as an orgasm rocked my soul, sending me off the planet. Holding tightly to his shoulders, my fingers biting into him, I shook uncontrollably as he licked and sucked me through the shuddering of the first orgasm I’d ever had fully clothed and totally turned on.

Nipples glistening with his mouth juices, Evan planted kisses across the flush on my breasts and tortured my nipples even more with the roughness of his goatee. God, what a turnon, to be able to come standing up like that.

I wanted to and needed to please Evan even more now and I wanted to feel his hardness in my mouth. But in the pool hall? Would I dare to do it there?

He smiled up at me and took my mouth once more in his, his tongue darting across my lips and down my neck to my shoulders exposed by my open blouse. My tits pressed up against his chest, and I struggled with his shirt. I wanted to feel his naked flesh on my skin.

Pulling his shirt up, I felt his nipples brush against mine in another erotic jolt of electricity as we groped and fondled each other wantonly.

Panting, I took his hand and placed it between my legs so he could feel what he did to me. Dampness, I could feel it through my jeans, my panties were soaking wet. And his hard-on was threatening to break free from the confines of his Levi’s.

“Evan, I want you, right here, right now.”

“Jade you so totally turn me on, I want you too.”

I dropped to to a squat in front of him, dragging my nails along his arms and his belly making a trail to his jeans. I slid a hand under the elastic waist band of his boxers and grasped his pulsing shaft with a soft hand. His eyes closed and he thrust his hips at my mouth. I eased his jeans over his hips just slightly, letting him escape to freedom. His cock was a throbbing and ached to be sucked. My pussy was having a reaction to that notion, coming alive again. I gave him a little rub, jerking him gently, gliding my hand up and down his shaft and he moaned softly.

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