PART FOUR:
“Make yourself at home.” He said as he wheeled in before me, and started turning on the lights.
I timidly stepped over the threshold, unsure of what was waiting for me...
No, I wasn't meaning it might be like “dangerous”, more on the level that you can tell a lot about a person by their home. The way they live reflects who they are, and what they're like...
It was pretty and masculine at the same time.
Everthing was rather open plan. Warm wooden floors. Giant fireplace in the center of the room. Grey scale color scheme surrounded me. Everything was tasteful and understated, yet modern and indulgent at the same time. It seemed to have influences from the 60's and 70's, which I really liked. I hoped to God that this was his taste and not just his Interior Decorator's...
I walked over to where Micah was in the kitchen area, which was like eight steps to the left of where I was standing at the front door.
I loved the thick, warm wooden benches, which was offset by trims of structured stainless steel below, the outline for the black cabinets and drawers. The lighitng rig with funky ligh fixtures.
“Did you want a drink?” He said as he was pouring two glasses of wine.
“Yeah, sure.” I laughed.
“Here you go.” He handed one to me and smirked.
“What would happen if I had said, no!?” I smirked back.
“Well. I guess I'd have two drinks to drink, I suppose.” a cheeky glint in his eye. “No, seriously, I knew you'd say, yes...”
Awkward pause filled the silence.
I knew what he was saying...well, not saying.
I sat down on the couch and he transferred to sit next to me. Everything was very casual, and yet layered with awkwardness. It was the weirdest feeling ever. EVER.
We chatted about frivolous crap, and told lame jokes, until it became apparent that it had to go somewhere, and soon.
I was in the middle of telling my story about these lame cats I used to have to flat with.
“So seriously, the black one jumped like a foot into the air! For no--”
He leant in and kissed me...and kissed me, and kissed me...
The next thing I know, as I pulled back, I was now straddling him. He was relaxed into the back cushions and I was mauling his face!?!?!
I sat back in my place, and tried to arrange myself in a not so rude manner.
Patting my hair down, I risked a glance at Micah...
He was still laxed in the same position, just smirking at me—as usual.
“So you didn't like my joke then?” I raised my evil eyebrow.
He laughed. “Actually, no. I was waiting for you to make a move, but we would've been sitting here forever.”
I whacked him in the arm, “Everyone knows it's the guy who's supposed to make the first move. D'uh!”
“Who's this “everyone” you speak of? And FYI, it's the 21st century. It's the girls turn to look like a schmuck.--”
--Whack!
“Ouch! Sheesh! I was kidding Skye!” With that he grabbed me and started tickling...I f*cken HATE being tickled...
After about five minutes of ridiculous childish carry-on, we ended up where we started...sucking face.
I have to admit, he was flippen fine at it. Like, I'm talking at least a Silver Medal...possibly Gold... I'll tell you later, just give me about five minutes...
….................................................................
Micah pulled back, “Shall we...take it to the bedroom?”
“Nah, let's just do it here.” I was too preoccupied, and didn't want to lose my mojo.
“Um, I've got a suprise for you in the bedroom, and plus I got to go the bathroom...”
I stopped making patterns on his neck, and looked him in the face. He looked a little shy(?) at that point... “Okay...”
I didn't know what he was on about, but I know I hate suprises...
I unsaddled my stead, and concentrated on rebuttoning my top, and other things...and yes, out of the corner of my eye I watched him.
Smooth, fluid, strong, delicious. Micah.
I waited for him to roll out of the room before I got up to stare at those floor to ceiling glass sliding doors. It was seriously, amazing! A huge wall of glass, that looks out onto the expansive Cityscape.
I was transfixed by the shimmery lights, when Micah said my name.
“Hey. Whatcha looking at?” He rolled over to me.
I smiled at him, “The amazing view you have here. It's...stunning.”
“Not as beautiful as the view I'm looking at.”
“Ha ha.” Total King of Cheese... “Would you like cheese with that?” I replied half-sarcastic.
He laughed, “I knew you'd love that.” He winked.
Taking my hand in his, he caressed the skin, then started making circles with his thumb...okay, it may sound lame to most people, but I adore having my hands massaged...mm...
“You wanna come see what your suprise is?” that familiar smirk and wink combo was irresistable.
“Sure.” I said casually, a wee bit suspicious.
“Come on then babe. We haven't got all night—oh wait, we do!” He chuckled at his own joke.
I just rolled my eyes and followed.
…................................................................
I gasped as I entered the room...
There were like, millions of tealight candles placed around various surfaces. There was the smell of a spicy male scent mixed with the smell, and sight, of intoxicatingly beautiful roses, orchids, peonys and other flowers I didn't know the name of. An array of white, and yellow, with touches of dusky pinks, in vases.
The room had a similar color scheme to the rest of the house, with the added touch of white to brighten the room. It felt expansive. With the wall of glass on one side, and a big mirror hung on most of another wall, seemed to make the room double in size.
Soft brazillian or maybe spanish infused with jazz played softly from hidden speakers. The bed was strewn with petals, and one side was turned down...
The room took on a sort of vague, slightly out of focus glow...hard to describe? It was like I was looking at everything through a dim, foggy glass window?
It felt like I was in some sort of romantic comedy, or a daytime soap opera? or even maybe a soft porn movie--well, we'll see about that one later won't we...giggle, giggle.
Micah had just been sitting there, drinking in my reaction, "So...you like?"
All I could do is nod my head and go, "Ahah." Like the idiot I was.
A grin broke out, "Good. That was the plan."
He beckoned me with his finger. I followed it, as if under some sort of spell.
I bent down to kiss him, only to find myself curled up on his lap. Intimately discovering parts of Micah.
I brushed back some of his hair, to whisper in his ear, "Thank you." Before I continued on my quest to know every part of him.
I wanted to be acquainted with him. Every line, every crinkle, every scar, every hair, every mole.
I wanted him to know how I desired him, not just physically, but emotionally, and (yes, cheesily) spiritually.
I'd never had any guy do something this special, and at this point, I just wanted to return the favor, to this man who was now becoming a person I wanted to know more than anyone else.
............................................................
"Take off your shirt." I panted a little. The lips had been getting a workout so far tonight.
He chuckled a little.
I was impatient, "Now. Please" I threw in that last bit to not seem like such a horn-dog.
"Okay, okay." He grinned. "You need to hop up for a moment then, please."
I got off, and watched him undo the third and fourth button, and slip his shirt over his head...
Gosh, I wanted him more!! Maybe I should have kept his shirt on?
Exploding didn't seem like the most romantic thing to do at this moment, or the cleanest...
I realised I was imagining what I could do with my hands, and lips, when I could just go and do what I was fantasising about, right then, right now.
I was still staring at him, at his hard body, when I realised he was saying my name again.
"Skye?" He had his hand outstretched for me.
I took his hand, but instead of going to him, I was tugging him to come to me...
He released his break, and half-helped me pull him to me.
I ran my hand through his hair, yanking it a bit at the back. With his head tilted, I planted a sweet, juicy kiss on those delicious full lips.
I sat down again on his warm, inviting lap, and as he kissed a trail down my neck, his hands making their own exploratory mission. I felt his huge hand cup the back of my head, tilting it sideways to get a better angle. At times I felt him grab the sides of my waist, and hoist me closer to his body.
I loved the way he would alternate between gentle and firm. The way he would stroke my back at times with the tips of his rough fingers...and at other times, I could feel them dig into my flesh as though he wanted to devour me.
Often he would gently trace the outline of my cheekbone, and slide down my jaw, before tilting my head to his and kissing my full lips with his, as softly as a butterfly.
I, on the other hand, took joy in running my fingers, and palms firmly down his back. down his shoulder blades, into the hollow inbetween, down the sides of his toned back, resting in the small groove at the small of his back. I loved grabbing his biceps, as they tensed, then released in repetition as reliable as the waves of the ocean.
I went up and down as the mood inspired, often raking my nails in and up and down...I like it a little bit rough sometimes...
He was gasping a little when he said, "Now it's your turn Missy. Come on, off with the top." Grinning like the little schoolboy he was sometimes. Part angel, part devil.
"Fine." I agreed, and proceeded to strip off my top.
"Oh goody, goody gum drops." He chuckled. "Play time!"
............................................................ I stood there in nothing but lacy panties and a bra. I felt almost naked, and totally exposed...I didn't really care.
Micah was grinning ear to ear, as he held onto my clothes I had just flung at him. “Wow.” He cheesed at me.
“Shut it boy. Your turn now!” I walked slowely, and as seductively as my accident-prone legs would let me. “I think your pants are wet?” I looked at his crotch.
“What?!” He freaked out a little, throwing my clothes onto the bed, before examining his area...
I giggled, “Sorry, I was just joking! I was going to say, 'Let me get you out of those wet pants...” I winked at him.
He looked up at me, an angry look on his face, “It's not exactly a joking matter with a cripple, Skye.”
Boy, he looked mad...
I sat down on the floor, “Oh, sh*t, I'm sorry! I didn't think...I thought it was a funny way to get your pants off.”
I felt like sh*t. What a dick!
After what seemed like forever, Micah sighed and looked at me, sitting on the floor like a no-mates,
“No, it's okay. I over-reacted. I... I--I just get nervous, and I'm scared of scaring you off too soon.
I mean, it's—I...my body doesn't exactly function like normal guys, and...I--I just don't want you to experience everything at once...” He looked at the floor.
I didn't know what to say.
It's true, I've never been with a guy in a chair, and as much as I've wanted it, I've been scared.
Scared of the unknown.
Scared that I would say or do something stupid and offend him. (Well, scratch that one off my list)
Scared that it wouldn't be as great as I imagined.
Scared that there would just be too many problems that would make it not work...
“Micah?” I said softly, still on the floor playing with my toes idly.
“What?” He managed out. “Do you want me to take you home?”
“No. I wanted to say, I know this is difficult for both of us, and probably for you more than me; but I really do want this. I really do want you. Bad parts and all.” I gave him a hopeful smile.
He half-smiled at me...
That was all the encouragement I needed. “Truce?” I held out my hand.
He grabbed it and pulled me to his lap.Sighing he said, “Come here, you little pixie...”
He held my face in his giant hands. Just looking me intently in the eyes. Searching...for what? I don't know? but I knew it made me feel uncomfortable...so I lent my lips toward his.
He met me halfway...
After a couple of minutes, trying to fade out the previous awkward intermission, I came up for air.
“Micah?” I breathed.
“Hm?” He continued to blaze hot kisses up and down my neck, to my collarbone, then on the fleshy tops of my breasts that weren't covered.
“Micah?!” I pushed his head away from my body. Looking at him crossly in the face.
“Yes, Skye?!” He looked impatient. Like a kid in front of an open candystore, but being stopped just before the front door.
“I think it's highly unfair, and ungentlemanly of you to let me continue being indecently exposed, while you get to sit there half-covered!” I pouted a little for effect.
Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair, “Are you sure?”
I just nodded, grinning.
“I just have to warn you, my legs..” He let out a breath, “My legs aren't exactly muscular or, well, they're the opposite of muscular.” He laughed awkwardly.
“And...”
Another hand went through his hair, as he looked away, “They are pretty gross, Skye. It's probably better if we leave the pants on. Besides, I can't exactly feel anything down there so it's not exactly important.” He was still looking away.
I got up off his lap, and stood in front of him, arms folded. That got his attention.
“Micah, for goodness sake. Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
Micah's mouth opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “W-what?”
I gave him a mischievous smile, “I'm just saying Mikey, if your too chicken to show me the goods, then I'm just going to have to get on out of here.”
I bent down to start picking my clothes and shoes up—I felt a hand wrap around my waist securely...
“Put that sh*t down Skye.” He mumbled, and started to pull my clothes out of my arms.
I turned around slowely to face him. The grin stretching across my face, “I win!”
Groaning and rolling his eyes at me, “Fine, you win. Now sit your ass down.” He pointed to the bed, then started to pull up next to the bed to get ready to transfer.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
Micah stopped, and looked up at me a little confused, “I'm transferring. What does it look like?”
“No, I want to do it in your chair, if you can, I mean.” I added quickly.
He looked doubtful. But I didn't let him speak, I just sauntered over, bent down, and started undoing his top button... looking up at him this time, I raised my eyebrows a little worriedly. Biting my lip, as if to say...
He just looked at me, and sighed. Hands on rims, he lifted his butt off the seat. I slid his pants down to nearly his knees—then he sat back down...
I started to put my hands on his legs to slide his pants off, when he stopped me.
Flicking my hand away, he held onto his legs, “Um, I can do it from here.”
I didn't understand, but backed away anyway.
I was fully aware of every movement Micah made. I know it sounds crazy, and unless you have this kind of weird f*cked up attraction you won't get it; I loved watching him. I loved seeing all of him. I mean, ALL of him...
I'd waited a looonnnnggg time to be with a para. And no, I wouldn't just do it with any ol para.
I knew if I ever was going to taste that honey, it was going to have to be someone who stimulated me mentally, as well as physically.
Micah was all that, and more. Wrapped in a thick caramel coating.
He had substance. And right now...his substance was looking pretty dope.
“What are you looking at?” He seemed kind of pissed and awkward at the same time.
I looked him up and down. Taking in all of him. I was in no rush in making my assessment.
My eyes widened as I really looked at him, for what seemed like the first time ever.
That's the beauty of being exposed, naked.
As an artist, I tend to see beauty in everything. There is form, and shape in the smallest line. I liked the lines his form created.
He had an elegant yet completely solid neck with sturdy broad shoulders, thick well-muscled arms... huge firm hands that held long fluid fingers.
I loved the contrast.
The torso tapering down drastically to reveal his legs.
Odd proportions that somehow seemed more perfect to me than what's considered 'perfect' in the real world.
I drank in those beautiful legs. They had a shape of their own. In the stillness, the whiteness, in the parallel linear structure. It's the subtleties that intrigue me.
I loved the look of his feet. Slightly marred by the imperfection of angles. They almost looked like they were kissing each other. They looked soft, yet resilient.
I slowely made my way back up, noticing the square of his jaw, a slight five o'clock shadow marred the consistancy of a great complexion.
His hair slightly shorter than usual. Honey and doe-blonde tousled bed-hair looked effortless.
His mouth was an oasis for what felt like a desert of my lips. It was irresistable for me to just look, and not want to suck it dry of moisture.
I loved the way his dimples would begin to make little holes in his face as his mouth moved. When he was particularly pleased those holes would become rivers. It was almost breath-taking when it is combined with those full luscious lips pulled over straight white teeth.
I just bit my lip, imagining I'm biting his...
The last thing I see after the set of relatively heavy brows, thick but tapered.
(None of that wild mono you see on so many men these days. Come on guys its eyebrowS, not eyebroW!! Sheesh!)
Those eyes that are almost hypnotic. He doesn't know the power he has in those eyes, and it's probably a good thing.
Long, thick, dark lashes framing deep blue eyes. It's not just the look of them specifically. It's more the “look” that comes from them that has me on my knees sometimes.
What really makes a man magic to me, is the combination of how in awe I am of their physical presence, and the beauty of who they are.
The presence of who they are inside is what fills out the physical. It gives life to their body.
The way they move in their body, the way their faces express emotion—or hide emotion.
So much goes into what makes one person completely attracted to another. It's something unexplainable, and yet I just tried to... I had to laugh a little.
“What?!” Micah looked super pissed. He started to reach for his pants angrily reaching out and placing them in his lap.
“I'm not laughing at you,” I giggled.
“Yeah, you had me fooled.” He yanked his brakes off, then started to wheel towards the door.
“Stop!” I was bent over from the uncontrollable laughter. The irony was hilarious to me.
He spun around. “What.” He still looked incredibly sh*tty.
“I'm sorry. I'm laughing--” Panting still, “--because I think your the most beautiful person I've ever seen.” I was serious now.
He examined my expression suspiciously. After a moment he relented, “I don't understand Skye. If you really were thinking that, why would you laugh? I'm hanging out here like an idiot, and all you can do is laugh. It kind of doesn't add up.”
“I'm sorry, I was just looking at how beautiful you were, and just could not believe how perfect ths was for me. It was surreal.” I walked to the bed, not even bothering to wait for his reaction.
“This has been a long time coming, and I really can't wait anymore. Don't hang me out to dry for a stupid misunderstanding Micah.
I know your good with that mouth of yours, so maybe you should just give me a tongue-lashing from over here...” I crooked my finger at him, and gave him my best 'come hither' look.
He seemed to think it over for a second. I could see it working over in his head, before he gulped. Chucked his sh*t on the nearby chair, and wheeled up to the bed.
“Good boy.” I stroked down his jaw-line with my finger. Catching him off-guard, I cupped his chin, and kissed him how I wanted him to kiss me. Hard, rough and passionate. Working the tongue in an exploratory manner.
Finally he pulled back. Blowing out a breath, as he looked me up and down, “Hells yeah Girl. Now we're talking!”
I watched him, knock those gorgeous thin legs out of the footplate, then with one hand on the bed, and one just under his thigh, he hoisted himself up and over, onto the bed. Delicious strength in those muscles coursed up and down.
The way he handled his legs seemed to be almost sensual.
Keenly aware of every movement, lifting them to the bed. The way they dangled in a delicate manner contrasted so greatly to the strength of his arms and chest...I pounced.