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My fingers were just inches from them. I could feel the cold metallic key ring with the tip of my… I just can’t… hook… my… UGH! I cannot believe Avril did this to me: dropping my keys through the mail slot and laughing delightedly, as only a four-year-old can do when she’s got her mother’s proverbial goat.
“Avril…” I said through gritted teeth under my breath to no one in particular as I jammed my hand farther into the door’s mail slot “…if you weren’t so damn cute… ” Dammmit to hell! Just about had them… OOOOOOF!
It was his “may I help you?” that startled me. I looked up from my juxtaposition on the floor, my arm jammed nearly to my elbow in the door, my purse and belongings askew in the hallway. I’m sure I looked quite a sight.
“Uh… no… my daughter just… um…” I felt the color rising to my cheeks as I stumbled over the lamest story on the entire planet. It didn’t help matters at all that this man… whomever he was… was gorgeous. Probably early-50’s, but well-built and obviously well-maintained. I should know. I look A LOT!
He grinned. ‘Oh, God… PLEASE don’t let my arm be stuck in this mail slot on top of everything else!’ I thought as I began to slowly, gently wriggle free of the confining metal frame.
He held out his hand to me, taking mine and carefully helping me to my feet as to not trip over all of my “STUFF” strewn about me. “Hi,” he said in a low, honeyed voice, “my name’s Pete. I just moved in down the hall. Quite a little charmer you have there… your daughter, I mean… she’s greeted me three times today as I was moving more things in.”
I realized then that I hadn’t let go of his hand, and truthfully, I didn’t even want to. His face was so kind, but he was looking at me quizzically still… not really sure of what I was doing or why I was doing it. I blushed and pulled free of his warm hand (much to my own chagrin). I suddenly laughed at the thought of what I must’ve looked like.
“I’m Holly,” I said, blushing again as my voice went up three octaves like it used to do in grade school when the cute boy would “bump into” me in the hallway, “I was trying to get my keys. Avril… the little moppet that you said was so cute, but I think is the Devil incarnate today… dropped them there in what could only be described as her perfect attempt to make her mother crazy. It’s her birthday, and I am SUPPOSED to be entertaining six four-year-olds at the local pizzeria in about 10 minutes, but it looks like… (glancing at the door with a defeated look)… I’m going to be late.”
Pete raised his hand as if to say ‘hang on just a sec’ and turned, sprinting up the hallway to his open apartment door. He returned with a set of locksmith tools. “I just so happen to be a locksmith… in my spare time…” That dazzling smile again. I stood back and watched him work his magic… marvelling at how perfect his hands were. Even more so: no wedding ring and no tan line to have me think there had been a “Mrs. Pete” in a while. Mental note: kiss Avril for being the Devilchild and dropping my keys in the mailslot… Mommy needed to meet this white knight named Pete!
I heard Pete begin to hum to himself as he worked away on my antiquated lock. In moments, I heard the unmistakable sound of the tumblers in the lock catching and my door clicked open. With a giant sweeping gesture, Pete motioned through the opening and said, “Your castle, m’lady…”
I dissolved in laughter… after all, I WAS thinking that once a knight was enough…!! I stepped carefully around him (he even smelled wonderful… like moving boxes and cologne and sweat) and leaned down to pick up my keys. Just then, my own loving mother, who always said she hoped I had a daughter as bad as I was, brought Avril back up the stairs to see what was taking me so long. Avril barrelled headlong into me, knocking me into the receptive arms of Pete. “That’s twice you’ve saved me today, ” I said, righting myself again as Avril was corralled by her grandmother, “I think I at least owe you dinner!”
“Oh, please, it was my pleasure… on both counts,” Pete disuaded… not sure whether my offer was genuine or obligatory.
“Pete, I’m serious. You’re new in the building, and you’ve helped me out of big jam tonight. illegal bahis Come have pizza with us. If you can stand six screaming four-year-olds on a raging sugar high after the birthday cake, I’d be honored to have you there.”
The silence was deafening. Pete’s eyes studied my face, looking for the confirmation I suppose he found. His mouth curled back into that wonderful smile, and he nodded. “GOOODIE” Avril burst out… jumping up and down and clapping. We all laughed at her enthusiasm.
The pizza party was gratefully uneventful. Avril was thrilled with her gifts, and I was thrilled with mine: Pete. He and I managed to manuver ourselves to our own table, and we began to talk… finding that we had so much in common that it was shocking. He told me of his failed marraige, I told him of mine. He told me of his wanderlust ways trying to find himself afterwards, I showed him pictures of all the places I had dragged Avril through until I found out there was just no place like home. I felt myself leaning into the conversation more and more, if for no other reason than to get another whiff of this man’s scent. Animalistic, I know… but I rarely felt like this with anyone. Our minds seemed to mesh.
Avril ran over and plopped herself into Pete’s lap, trying to show him the intricacies of the newest “Gimme A Break Barbie”… or whichever one it was she was showing him. I leaned my chin onto my fist, my elbow resting on the table, and watched as this man, whom I had not known at all a mere five hours ago, paid rapt attention to my daughter as if she were the only person on the planet at the moment. He asked her questions about Barbie’s shoe, and Barbie’s hair… she even turned to him once and said, “Mr. Pete, Mommy doesn’t even know THAT!” I blushed and nodded sheepishly when Pete raised his eyebrow in my direction.
My mom had been watching Pete and my body language, and sidled over to me on the latest “punch run” to the counter. “Holly, honey, I’ll take Avril home with me tonight if that’s alright. I have some new pajamas at my house for her, and I want to try them on her.” I hugged Mom so hard, I thought I heard her eyeballs make a popping noise!
As the party began to break up, I noticed Pete on one knee talking again to Avril. Mom went over and took Avril’s hand, but Avril shook free and threw her arms around Pete. I watched to see what his reaction would be… many men would have been taken aback by that simple childlike gesture. But not Pete. He embraced Avril, standing to give her a big swinging hug. He didn’t even know that was her favorite kind. She limply acquiesed her little body to grandma, who, along with my father that finally made it to the party, said their goodnights and slipped out the door. Blissful quiet at last!
“I guess we should go…” I said, turning to Pete, who was checking through all the wrapping paper and dinner trash to make sure that Avril didn’t lose any “Barbie shoes”.
“I just didn’t want her to be upset if something was missing and we didn’t even check,” he reasoned when he saw the look on my face. How could a guy like that not melt your heart?!?
All the way home, the ride grew more awkward and more highly charged. He laughed when I jokingly referred to him as “The Keymaster”… wondering aloud what I must’ve looked like to him. In my head, I was trying not to turn down every dark alleyway between the pizza parlour and home… all I wanted to do was have my way with this man. The best foreplay to a single mom is to be good to her kids. Everything else is gravy.
I pulled into the parking garage, and Pete lept out of the car. ‘Oh, great,’ I thought, ‘ that mouth of mine has done it again…’ and just as my hand reached for the door, it opened. Pete stood there, hand extended, to help me from my SUV. I was stunned. No one had ever done that before!
“Thank you,” I stammered… not knowing what to say next.
“My pleasure.” He kept my hand in his as we strode together across the garage to the waiting elevators. When the doors to the elevators opened, Pete held them and guided me inside, still gently cradling my hand in his. His touch was electric, and my heart was beating like a jackhammer on overtime. Pete stepped into the elevator, too, pushing the button illegal bahis siteleri to our floor before stepping back beside me. The warmth of him radiated through his clothes and mine… warming my body. I felt his thumb rub the outside of my hand softly… a touch that almost brought me to my knees. I was just about to turn to him when the elevator doors slid open and he said quietly, “Looks like we’re home…”
He led me from the elevators and down to my apartment. “Do you have your keys?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with merriment.
“Yes, Mr. Smartass, I do…” and as I fumbled with them, I was shaking so badly that I couldn’t get my fingers to work. Pete saw my dilemma and reached to take the keys from me, opening my door, and swinging it wide, allowing me to step past him once again across my threshold.
As I stepped past him, without a word I took his hand back into mine and led him with me, stopping only to close and lock the door behind us. “Holly… I don’t think we sho…”
I turned and silenced him with a deep kiss. “I know that we barely know each other, Pete. But Avril thinks you’re great. You’ve met my mom, and she NEVER volunteers to take Avril unless I specifically ask her to, which I didn’t. She likes you, too. Those are two of the hardest women on the planet to get along with, and you get along with ’em both. You must be pretty special.” I cleared my throat, fearing that my next words would stick there, “but if you don’t find me attractive, and you don’t want to be here right now… I will understand.”
“Oh, my god. How could you ever think that?” Pete took my face into his hands and pulled my mouth to his, his lips pressing carefully against mine in wanton query. My tongue answered his quest, and I felt myself pressing my body against him, feeling his strong arms wrapping around me as we both succumbed to what we had been toying with all night long.
Pete unbuttoned my blouse as our kiss was never broken, and he pushed it carefully from my shoulders, following his hands with his warm mouth. I, too, began to unbutton his shirt, running my hands underneath to feel his flesh, and as I made contact with his ribcage, I felt his breath escape in a low growl. God, how I wanted this man… the usually-cautious “new millenium” woman was in the throes of complete and utter carnal lust. No… this was more than that. I felt a connection with Pete from the moment I saw him. This wasn’t just sex. I was about to make love with this man. It felt right.
Pete lifted himself away from me, and since our apartments were virtual mirrors of one another, he quickly led me down the short hallway to my bedroom. He didn’t turn on the lights, though… he asked me to light a few candles. A request that I was more than happy to accomodate. The soft glow filled the room as Pete went to work on my clothes once again. Shirt.. gone. Bra… gone. His hands cupped my heavy breasts, and I felt his hot breath against first one, then the other, of my nipples. I must’ve lost a bit of control in my knees, because Pete straighted up quickly and wrapped his arms around me once again, burrowing his face in the hollow of my neck and kissing up to my mouth. He backed me to my bed and as he sat me down, rather ungracefully, there was a loud SQUEAK! We both jumped, then dissolved in laughter when we realized I had been set down square on top of one of Avril’s stuffed animals!
Pete moved me over, and as we composed ourselves, he looked me in the eyes. “You want to know what I thought when I saw you sprawled out on the floor with your arm jammed in the door?” I blushed and nodded. “I thought,” he continued, “that if you had to go to the hospital and have the door removed from your arm that I wanted to be the one you woke up to after surgery because you were, and are, the most amazing woman I’ve seen in a long time…” Tears rolled down my face.
He kneeled between my legs and began to unbuckle my pants, sliding them and my underwear from my body in one move. I was now naked to a virtual stranger, and it didn’t feel threatening. I didn’t feel like I needed to run and hide. I wanted Pete to see me… all of me… and decide whether he wanted to stay based on that, not on the typical “date lies” that normally prevail canlı bahis siteleri until after marriage.
He pushed me back to lie on the bed, and I heard the rustle of his clothing. Suddenly he was beside me, stroking my less-than-perfect tummy, and my cellulited thighs. He stroked the furrow between my eyebrows, and the blemish on my chin that was thanks to raging hormones. He ran his fingers through my short hair, telling me how soft it felt in his hands. He put his face into it and breathed, telling me how good it smelled. He ran his hands lightly all over me until my skin was electrified. Each touch brought new tremours to my body as if every nerve ending had come alive. He wouldn’t allow me to touch him, saying he wanted his time first. How can one not comply with THAT?!
I felt his breath against my ear as he whispered what he wanted to do to me as he proceeded to do it. His hand found my mound and his fingers found how wet I was. He dipped a finger inside, and being in the complete state of arousal I was in already, this pushed me over the edge. I arched against his hand as his voice in my ear said, “just let go, Holly… just let go…” The pad of his finger rubbing over my g-spot as it swelled against him. My breath caught in my throat… I had never felt anything quite like this… but then again, I had been having sex with boys. This was a man, and he was making love to me. With me.
His hands stopped and I felt the blush of a good orgasm flush my skin. He kissed my collarbone, watching my face for the softness to return. When it did, he slipped me over to the middle of the bed and climbed over me. “I need to be inside you,” he said to me, and I accepted him fully as my lover. I felt him stretch me, and I felt my inner muscled mold to his form as I fully engulfed him. Just as I would adjust to him and we would establish a rhythm, he would stop and put his mouth on me, bringing me to orgasm after orgasm with his mouth and hands, but keeping his own level of lust in a constant state of arousal… never letting himself get too close without stopping to give me pleasure first.
I watched his face when he was between my legs and when he was inside me (when I could see him from the position we were in). It amazed me. I listened to his breathing and his noises. I loved (and still love to this day) his noises. When he’s in the throes of lust, when he’s devouring my flesh, when he’s just being aroused… his noises are heavenly. He always goes so slowly when making love with me… agonizingly so… squeezing every drop of pleasure out of each moment until we are both lying together, sated, hours later. His hands gathered my flesh into them and he guided my pleasure to match his own. He would stop his thrusting when I would arch against him and call out, waiting for my spasms to subside before beginning that climb once again. I had never made love so completely for so long.
It was quite a while before Pete looked into my eyes and told me that he needed to cum, and he wanted to fill me with it. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him deeply inside me, wanting to feel each pulse and jet as he did. His groan filled my ears… and my shout matched him as our bodies melded for the final time that night. He placed his hands on the top of my head and brushed my hair away from my sweaty forehead, then he kissed me there. And on the nose. And then on the chin. And then on my cheek before nuzzling back into the hollow of my neck. I wasn’t ready to let him go, to allow his body to move even a microscopic amount away from mine right then, so I encouraged his body to sink down on me… his weight was less a burden and more a comfort. It felt good to be cradled.
After a brief rest, Pete rolled to his side, pulling me up very close to him. “You wore me out!” I said, grinning at him.
“Yeah, you did me, too, Little Girl,” Pete agreed and planted another affectionate kiss on my forehead. “But what a way to go!”
“Betcha didn’t think your locksmithing tools would get you THIS far in the door, didja, Keymaster?” I dissolved in laughter all over again, and he along with me. He cradled me close once again as our giggle subsided and we fell asleep.
It’s funny to think that was three years ago. We still live in the same building, but in a bigger apartment. Avril has called Pete “Daddy Pete” for over a year now, but I will never forget how, with my hand stuck in my door, I met my lovingly devoted Keymaster… who will forever more hold the keys to my heart.
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