The "I" In Lie

Pete had me bent over my kitchen table with one of my favorite skirts pushed up around my waist. His hands marveled around my stomach, moving up my tank top and grabbing my breast. His hands were gripping tight, his release was coming.

Pete's hands weren't all that you expect from a man like him. Pete is a hard working man, but from his body you wouldn't expect that. He dresses like a teenager without a care in the world, but those hands... They're hard working man hands. They're calloused and rough, bigger than you imagine from a man of his height and stature. Pete is 5'6, I'm 5'2, I love how close in height we are.

When we have sex this way, him so forcibly behind me, he can lean over and kiss my shoulder or whisper something dirty in my ear. I love, love, love it. His hands all over me, it's beyond sexy, almost beautiful.

The way his hands touch me, they sometimes sink into my hair or grip my shoulders tightly, forcing himself deeper inside of me. It's exotic, it makes me feel love. For once I feel love from him.

It was only one other time that I really recall that Pete and I made love. It was so long ago, but I still remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember what day it was, what he was wearing, what was on TV, what I ate, and how it began.

It was a cold day in LA, storm brewing from the north, and the damn electricity was threatening to go out. Pete showed up on time; he called, saying he needed to see me, code for I need to fuck you.

I didn't object.

He showed up in this tight white t-shirt, tight black jeans and super clean Supras. His hair was shaggy, his hand swooped through it to shake out the rain. He had immediately came into my room and began to remove his clothing, no words said.

I didn't mind a bit, I was already half way nude, having shed my clothing from the moment the little text message was read by me. I sat up on my knees as he climbed on my bed and started to kiss me; which was new, back when we first started. We hadn't kissed, we just fucked, so kissing was a surprise. I nearly melted, I think that it was when I fell in love with him.

He had pushed me on my back, his tongue shyly entered my mouth, I brought my hands up his back and rolled my manicured fingers, gently, down it. Pete had let out an exhale, his mouth departed from mine, "Sit up." Was his command.

Within a moment of sitting up he removed my bra, my panties and his boxer shorts. Again, we were lain down, my back against the pillows, his mouth on mine. He kissed me softly, his tongue tangled gently with my own. His rough hand brought my leg up onto his hip, and he entered me, nearly dry and without a condom. He had let out this throaty groaned against my mouth, he whimpered, too.

As he pushed inside of me, he was slow, his thrust was slow, but powerful. It was quiet, no dirty talking. I moaned against his mouth, then his neck as he rocked his hips against mine. The entire world was shut off, no one speaking no one interrupting.

It would've been perfect if thunder would've cracked.

But, this moment, sex, was defined as love making. To me, we made love, it wasn't sex. It was intimate, it was beautiful, it was intense.

When we both had cum, he held me in his arms for a little while. Then he let me go, without even caring if I was awake or not; I think something had been bothering him. But that's when it began, the real hurt, when he'd get up and leave me alone in my bed. 

No beautiful afterglow, no nice moment alone. Nothing. I was a booty call. After that beautiful moment I was nothing to him. I still think about that day and wince. It was a day I like to remember and forget all at once.

But, back to this moment in my kitchen, where the sound is deafening. The entire room was quiet expect for soft grunts, the table being scraped in the floor and my muffled moans. I cried out once I felt him thrust hard into me and release into the condom. I shook with desire, my own orgasm came seconds before so I rode it out. Pete grabbed my hips hard, finishing and leant over to whisper in my ear.

"I love you, Al." He practically mouthed the words, that's how quiet he said them.

And you know what? I think he meant them.

I don't want to ruin it so I just moan, pretending I didn't hear him. He pulled out of me, slowly, panting and loosening his grip on my hips. I stood slowly, pulled my underwear up, my skirt down and my bra's front buckle snapped back into place.

Pete walked away, his pants up his thighs, and threw the condom out. He stood there a moment, back to me as he straightened up. I let out a small sigh, my high coming down; Pete finally turned to me, "You work this weekend?" He asked.

I nodded, "Joe has me down for Saturday evening and that big movie event on Sunday night."

"Michelle's going to that." He said softly, "When do you get off on Sunday?"

"Midnight." I told him, still fixing my chest in my bra.

"I wanna take you somewhere that night, after. You up for it?"

I suppress a big grin, I just nod, "Yeah, sure."

He laughed, "Don't break your cheeks, honey." He came over to me and cupped my jaw, "Are you excited?"

I gave a sheepish roll of my eyes, "Maybe."

"You should be, we never go out," He grinned at me, "You ever been on the roof of Angels and Kings?"

I damn near squeal; the roof had an exclusive bar, an arrangement of private rooms. I never been up there, it was reserved for special guest. 

"Holy shit, really?" 

He laughed again, his hands moving down toward my shoulders, "Yeah really."

I smirk at him, "But, you aren't really taking me anywhere, Peter. You're just leading me up to the roof of my job."

He kissed my lips, lingering, "Not just leading up, I got a couple of things I wanna experience that we've never done before."

I got giddy with excitement, anticipation was soaring in me. I kissed him back, heatedly, nipping at his mouth, "I can't wait." I whispered against his mouth.


My sister, Robin, knows about Pete. She knows how much I love him; she's the only one I can tell. Of course, my baby sister thinks its outrageous for me to be committing such a sin.

She thinks I'm crazy, but she understands why. Robin, too, wants a man to love her, to hold her, to kiss her, like myself. Even if she thinks I'm nuts, and that Pete is a pig, she understands.

Robin calls every other day, to ask how I've been. Aside from being my sister, Robin is my best friend. My only friend, aside from Pete.

"Hey," Robin calls on Sunday morning, "How are you Alyssa?"

She's the only person who will call me Alyssa. My mom calls me Aly like everyone else.

"I'm fine, Robby." I smiled, thinking about my sister, "Hey, I got something to tell you."

Robin exasperated jokingly, "Oh, let's see, you met someone who loves you?"

I roll my eyes, "Not yet." I sang playfully.

"Well, what's the big news?" She questioned.

"Pete and I are going to have a special night tonight." I said happily.

There was silence on the other end. I frowned, "Rob?"

"How long is this still gonna go on?" Robin's voice was laced with concern.

I frowned, "Robin, we're just having fun."

"He's married, Alyssa. He has a wife--"

I stopped her, "I know what married means."

"No, apparently, you don't." She snapped back at me.

There was tension; quiet, thick tension. 

I sighed first, "Robby, why is this such a big deal to you?"

"Why isn't it to you?" She countered angrily, "You're in a relationship with a married man!"

"Look, I know it's bad," She went to say something else but I spoke over her, "She doesn't treat him right."

Robin, again, was quiet.

"I love him, Robin. You don't understand how much it hurts me to see him treated so badly." I explained this, hoping Robin wouldn't say anymore hateful things.

"Alyssa, you don't deserve that." She exasperated, "You deserve for someone to love you back."

"Well, right now, I don't care about that." I lied easily.

"You're lying." Robin replied back.

I frowned to myself, "No I am."

"Alyssa, be honest with me for once." 

I sighed, "I just want Pete right now, Robby. He's all I want, I'll worry about that stuff later."

"It won't be better later, and you know it."

I know Robin is right, but I didn't care. I didn't mind, I liked having Pete want me in his own way. I could wait for my turn.