Fred squeezed his eyes shut to stay focused. Tara Olivard was a gorgeous woman, he couldn't deny that, but her soft hazel eyes and chestnut hair wasn't what he wanted. With his eyes closed, he could better use his imagination and pull from his memory.
Daphne's face was upturned in a bright smile as she giggled at some dumb joke of his. Fred couldn't help but think she was absolutely irrestible when she was like this, happy and carefree. He pulled her close, stealing her laughter with his mouth. She expected his kiss, gliding eagerly across the van's bench seat. Lifting her leg to straddle him was no easy task. They had to press tightly together behind the steering wheel, space being very limited.
Unfortunately, Fred couldn't turn off his ears, and the sound of Tara's exaggerated moans grated on his nerves. She couldn't be enjoying him this much so soon. Gritting his teeth, he tried to fall back into his past.
In their intimate moments together, Daphne's groans were usually quieter, sincere, and earnest. He could always tell how much she wanted him by her little mewls. This time her voice was taking on a desperate edge as he moved his lips to her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, while his hands slipped under her tank top, cupping her breasts. Demanding more friction, she started to roll her hips against his bulge.
Tara writhed under him, but her movement was distracting. It just didn't flow right. She wasn't in tune to his tempo and the act felt all…sloppy. Unfamiliar. He wanted to tell her to lie still, but felt it might be considered rude.
Him and Daphne mixed together well physically, there had never been an adjustment period or clumsy touching that he could recall.
Without speaking, only knowing, he bundled her skirt up around her hips as she worked his fly and belt buckle. Daphne whimpered out loud when his member sprung free, revealing how needy she truly was.
"Kiss me, Freddie," she begged, urging his mouth to hers.
Tara tried to tug Fred's head down for a kiss, and he shook his head, "No."
Her brow furrowed and she seemed disappointed, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.
As he entered her, his universe revolved only on how tight and warm Daphne's body was. His lips hardly left hers as they moved together, every motion working to bring them both pleasure. A particularly deep thrust made her back arch, unintentionally honking the van's horn. The shrill noise was loud in the empty parking lot, but all Fred could hear was the wet sounds of their love making and Daphne's ragged breathing.
He knew her climax was close, and for an instant he didn't mind if he finished or not. He just wanted to see her lose all control, for her to completely come undone by him and him alone. He hungered for when Daphne would look at him in those last seconds, as if he held her heart in his hands, as much as she currently held his.
Fred thought she looked ethereal as she rode his length again and again. Her hair and breasts were bouncing freely, her eyes slightly glazed in passion, her hands grasping his shoulders as if she might float away.
"Don't you realize how beautiful you are," he panted, "when you're like this?"
His words ignited a spark deep within her and he could feel her body tensing around him, riding those blissful waves. She threw her head back, her cries echoing in the van, moaning something unintelligible. Fred buried himself in to the hilt, as far as he could, seeing stars behind his eyes as he burst inside.
Pressing his face between her breasts, he listened to her heart race. Daphne threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him close to her chest, pressing chaste kisses to the top of his head. Inhaling deeply, Fred wrapped himself in the smell of her lavender perfume and…something else. Some feminine scent that was distinctly Daphne.
In these tender moments, both reveling in the aftershocks of pleasure, Fred thought that maybe…just maybe…she might love him too.
He had to hold on to that arousing memory, concentrate on it as long as could, burn it into his brain forever if he wanted to finish this chore with Tara.
Or anyone else really.
Fred turned his face away from his new partner, trying his hardest to convince himself that it was Daphne beneath him, and not Tara.
XXXXXX
Fred slumped forward on the edge of the mattress, tugging on his loafers. He should be ashamed, or at least embarrassed that he had just given the worst performance of his life. But strangely his pride wasn't hurt, only his heart.
He had been unable to finish anything with Tara, lying about having a migraine. Thankfully she was understanding and didn't push his excuse further. She pressed her head against his back, encouraging him to lie back down with her, but Fred shrugged her off, not bothering to hide the aggravation in his voice.
"No. I'm going home."
He didn't even make an effort to see if she was upset by his departure, only grabbing his keys and wallet, closing her front door behind him.
Fred sat in his truck for a good long while.
God, he felt so empty.
So lost.
When Tara had touched his arm earlier in the evening, a knowing gleam in her eye, Fred had hoped it would take away the growing ache in his soul. Maybe her attention would help heal the raw wound left by Daphne's rejection, distract his mind from any thought of her.
Instead, he just felt awful. This had been such a bad idea.
Dreadful. Dreadful. Dreadful.
He thought of the old saying, "there's plenty of fish in the sea". But maybe he didn't want any other fish. Maybe his "sea" was a pond and the only particular "fish" in it was Daphne.
