Michael felt himself melt, and stiffen simultaneously. As they kissed, more fervently than before, Michael pulled her legs nearer, forcing her to feel the growth in his pants. He'd been aching for Nicole all day, and now, numb to the pain in his abdomen and elevated by the alcohol in his veins, he was debating taking her right here on this table.
The waitress came out again to collect dishes and offer coffee, her clicking heels warning of her approach. They said no thank you, but Nicole reached for the cake, giggling as she asked for it in a box to-go. Then Michael interrupted, eagerly asking where Bill was so they could leave.
Nicole stood, circling back to her side of the table to down her remaining beverage. She watched as Michael did the same, reclined low in his seat, a tight jaw and preying eyes ready to pounce. Then he stood, hands deep in his pockets, looking taller and stronger than before, only making Nicole's heart race faster. She laughed as he bit his lip in that familiar way, then took two steps around the table. She took two steps back. Still laughing, Nicole raised her hands, blocking him like a rabid dog. Pretending to be oblivious, Michael laughed too.
Michael: What? I just want a hug...
Nicole: No you don't!
Another long step closer before he reached and pulled her into his chest. Her arms wrapped easily around his neck as they giggled like the good old days. Like a detective, Michael's hands searched her backside for panty lines he would never find, only making Nicole blush and laugh harder. He kissed and nibbled her neck until a deep voice cleared it's throat in the back of the room. It was time to go. The cake was waiting patiently in the car.
With the limo already running, Nicole crawled in first, then Michael tight behind her. The door slammed shut, queuing their breathless kissing to resume. Pressing until her body was flat against the seat, Michael's chest hovered above her.
Bill: Where to, Mr. Jackson?
Michael paused. The plan was they'd be off to the airport together... But that plan had changed. Kissing his neck and chest, Nicole fought off the material of Michael's blazer while he spoke.
Michael: Uh, back to Nicole's place. How are we on time before the flight leaves?
Bill: It's about 11:15 right now. Airport isn't too far from Ms. Dillard's apartment, but we'll be cutting it close.
Now Nicole paused, searching Michael's face through the darkness. His jacket was on the floor as she fingered the buttons of his shirt. Slowly he turned back to her, sliding the thin strap of her dress down her exposed shoulder. Then he kissed her there.
Michael: Bill, I'm going to need you to drive real slow, alright? I mean it-- If I'm any less than 10 minutes late for this flight, I'll ring your neck!--
Nicole: Michael! Be nice!
Bill: Yeah, Mike, be nice!--
Michael: And turn the music up-- real loud!
Alone again as Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" played fully over the speakers, but still they whispered.
Nicole: Why are you so mean to Bill?
For a second, his boyish charm was back as Michael giggled sweetly and squeezed her hand.
Michael: I'm not! We're just teasing is all. I promise I can be very nice...
The boy vanished even quicker than he'd appeared. Michael's hands pressed on her hips and teeth pulled at the strap of her dress. Loving the warmth of his breath moving down her arms, Nicole helped until her breast was free, enabling Michael to latch on the exposed nipple. The sensation was better than she remembered. His tongue moved with pride and passion, pulling her delicate skin until she arched her back and moaned for him. Instantly he stopped, chuckling as his lips whispered to her open mouth.
Michael: Hey, we have to be quiet, okay?
She blushed a little.
Nicole: I'll try...
They both enjoyed the sounds of sex, oftentimes finding it equally arousing as the physical pleasure. But for Bill's sake, they would try to be respectful. If either were functioning as sensible adults, they'd acknowledge that intercourse in a moving car with their friend within earshot-- hidden only by a heavy curtain a few feet away-- was inappropriate and shameful. But these were not normal circumstances. They were overcome with lust.
Michael pressed again for a kiss, a little more slowly now as his hand snaked up her dress. She was radiating heat. He'd missed the touch of her skin. So soft and smooth. The delicate nature of a woman was Michael's constant envy. The ability to be beautiful and strong, praised for their empathy and vulnerability.
The car jerked. Compromised by the wine, Michael lost his balance and tipped, nearly bringing him and his date to the floor. They laughed like drunken fools. Then Michael sat up. Unable to release his hands from Nicole's silk covered body, she was pulled to straddle his lap. With his back firm against the seat and feet flat on the ground, they kissed again. She held his face, his ears, his neck, his perfect curls, while his hands explored under her dress. No panties.
Her bare pelvis danced against his pants now as her dress hiked high over her hips. He wanted to touch her there, but didn't. It was too soon. So he pushed her away, holding her by the shoulders to slide the straps down her arms until both breasts moved freely. The dress, now just a scarf left to cover her belly. Nicole was glowing in the blackness of the limo, only the neon street lights made each other visible. But they didn't need light. They knew their partners intimately now, confident in their powers to please and trusting their own desires would be met.
Nicole raised her arms, stretching her torso to let Michael watch her hair fall to her back. She loved the attention as he palmed her, holding her arms frozen in a statue's pose. Was it the Greek Goddess Nike, or another ancient Venus or Aphrodite, he saw when he studied her now? Inviting her closer, Nicole leaned in, burying her cleavage to his eyes, nose, and mouth, suffocating Michael with her fullness in the most glorious way. Her breaths pounded in his ear. Teasing him like always.
Nicole: You know, Professor, I never did get to do that extra credit...
Leaning back in search of Michael's belt, Nicole glanced slyly to see his wide eyes fixated on her. She giggled softly, giddy with excitement, when he bit his lip and her hands revealed his firmness.
Hello old friend.
With a heavy jaw and stalled breaths, Michael watched as she slid to the floor, kneeling between his thighs. Holding him in both hands, Nicole massaged the veins that stimulated growth. Pushing his foreskin back, she kissed the head of his penis softly. Fully. Confidently. Then like a whisper, her tongue spoke to him. A language she'd never attempted before but was grateful for Michael as her guide.
His head tipped back, teeth bared, biting the thickness of his thumb as Michael settled into this forgotten sensation. Her lips formed a circle around him, nodding with desire as he grew quickly with her encouragement. Finally Michael closed his eyes, appreciating this intimacy he'd been yearning for. Yes, she made him feel good. But also overwhelmed by the feelings of pleasure and pain and hurt and hope, Michael wanted to cry-- and laugh and hide-- but never be alone. He opened his eyes. Her full lips passed over his skin over and over and over again. Until he couldn't watch any longer.
Michael: Come here.
The words were raspy and barely audible over the sounds of instrumentation on the car stereo, but Nicole knew, by the power coursing through his veins, exactly what her lover wanted. She crawled back to him, wasting no time in covering Michael's manhood with her lips again. Her other lips. The sticky, private lips that opened only for him. In a silent, lingering sigh of relief, her jaw fell open as her weight sunk around him. Michael touched her mouth, admiring the way her smile appeared blissfully as her hips rocked. They kissed to keep from moaning. In awe of her strength, in contrast to his growing exhaustion, Michael's mind and body grew numb as her body beat rapidly against his slacks.
Tchaikovsky grew louder. "1812 Overture," Michael recognized it instantly. The crashing winds. The drum's marching beat. Brisk violins and cellos. Soothing whistles of flutes and clarinets. A multitude of sounds to intrigue, excite, engage. And an overwhelming stimulus for Michael. Cannons were firing when Nicole's mouth pressed to his ear again. The sounds of breathless ecstacy. Her nails carved through the cloth of his shirt, twisting the pain in his torso to pleasure, as her back arched. A low groan breathed out her lungs. Her hips pounded faster.
In the darkness, Michael could feel and hear and taste it all. His chest and grip tightened as his body begged for release. Not yet. He tried to hold on. Pulling her closer with all his strength, his teeth latched to her shoulder, chewing her flesh with a sudden appetite for meat Michael hadn't had in days. He was desperate to hold on. The effort to restrain himself passed through to her, inducing a high pitched cry Nicole couldn't deny. An ethereal scream, more divine than any harp or flute. It radiated through the car, mixing with Tchaikovsky in a glorious symphony. Together, they let go.
Nicole's body shuddered uncontrollably, pelvis still grinding in his lap while Michael held her, mystified again by the beauty of a woman. This woman. His woman. Then she collapsed weakly into his chest saying nothing. Each of her exhales providing him the breath to breathe in. Her fingers traced his back and abdomen. A silent reminder of the pain. But he didn't react or flinch. Exhaustion had taken over completely as their heart rates slowed. In the calm, Michael pictured himself on his back, floating weightlessly through the ocean. For miles the dark waves held him to the surface as he drifted further and further from shore.
Nicole: I love you, Michael.
Michael opened his eyes, realizing now the car had stopped moving and soft lights illuminated the floorboards and his shoes and the small jeweler's box, partially exposed under the material of his jacket. Nicole's perfect hair and makeup was now disheveled and smeared. "Perfect" still, but in a different way. He laughed and held her face, smiling at her, seeing his own reflection in her soul. He smoothed her hair and brows and cheeks and kissed her warmly.
Michael: I love you more.
Fixing the straps of her gown, his hands were smooth and gentle, just barely floating on her skin.
Nicole: Won't you walk me in?
Blushing, Michael shook his head. Holding her hand, he was reluctant to let her go, but knew his body and mind too weak to leave her at the door.
Michael: If I go up there with you, I'll never leave.
She laughed, blissfully unaware of how serious her boyfriend was. So he forced a smile to match before kissing her cheek. Nicole's hips shifted, ready to ease away, but he held her. Reaching for his jacket, Michael watched the ring box roll into the darkness under the seats opposite them. His voice was louder now.
Michael: Bill?
Bill: Yes sir?
Michael: Will you escort Nicole to her door please?
Bill: It'd be my pleasure.
Covering her bare shoulders, Michael crossed his jacket over her body. His heart smiled genuinely as he watched her melt into the warmth and scent of his cologne. They kissed again. The car shifted and soon a knock on the window.
Michael: I'll call you when I get to New York.
Nicole: I know you will. You can't stop thinking about me.
She joked with a wink, again unaware. Finally Nicole crawled from his lap, watching Michael bite his lip as the dress lowered over her naked behind and he smoothed her hem. Returning the signal, Michael knocked back on the window, queueing Bill to open the door. A final kiss and whisper of love. He handed her the leftover cake, then teased, in a very serious tone, that she better think of him when eating it. A final, final kiss. The door opened. A truly final, lingering kiss. Bill stood dutifully, extending his hand to Nicole as she waved farewell to her beautiful boyfriend.
The door closed and locked immediately, leaving Michael in an eerie silence. The symphony had ended. Now everything was black again as he took a deep breath. Then fixed his slacks. Then searched the floor for the little black box. He opened it, letting the diamond pick up traces of light he hadn't noticed before. Closing his eyes, Michael imagined the way Nicole lit up at the sight of that cake, but now she glowed for him. He was kneeling before her with tears in his eyes. Happy tears this time, not the broken ones he'd been used to for days now.
The car unlocked and brightened again as Bill rejoined behind the steering wheel.
Bill: Well! Sounds like a 'congratulations' is in order! How'd she react, was she shocked? I bet she cried! When should I arrange her flight to New York?
Twisting the diamond in his fingers, Michael admired it's brilliance. There was no doubt she would've cried too. He smiled. Then he closed the lid again.
Michael: ... I didn't ask--
Bill: WHAT!?
There was no response as the car sped through the streets. They must've been awfully late. Michael shifted slowly to the seat behind Bill, back to back, then pulled aside the heavy black curtain that separated them.
Michael: Take this for me, won't you, Bill? Keep it somewhere safe, alright?