Chapter 130 : Time Alone – However You Want Me (Part 1)
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
The apartment was quiet. That particular kind of quiet that only settled in after the city outside had finally given up its constant hum of traffic and distant sirens. I stood in the doorway of the living room, watching May fold a blanket over the back of the couch with the kind of absent precision that came from doing something a thousand times before.
She hadn't heard me come in. Or maybe she had, and she was just taking her time acknowledging it. With May, it was sometimes hard to tell. She had a way of moving through a room like she owned every inch of it, confident and unapologetic, even when she was doing something as mundane as tidying up.
"You're staring," she said without turning around.
"Maybe."
She finished smoothing out the blanket, then finally glanced over her shoulder at me. The warm lamp light caught the brown waves of her hair, picking out copper and gold threads I'd never noticed before. Her face—expressive, open, with those laugh lines at the corners of her eyes that deepened whenever she smiled—carried an expression of amused tolerance.
"Maybe," she repeated, turning fully to face me. Her hands settled on her hips. "That's not an answer."
"It wasn't meant to be."
She snorted. Actually snorted, the sound undignified and completely at odds with the way she looked standing there in her fitted jeans and soft cream-colored sweater. The fabric clung to her in a way that did absolutely nothing to hide the gentle swell of her breasts or the curve of her waist. She was slim, energetic, with the kind of body that made it easy to forget she was in her mid-forties. Not that she looked young, exactly. She looked like a woman who'd lived, who'd raised a boy into a man, who'd weathered loss and kept going. That resilience was attractive in a way that flawless youth could never match.
"Sit down," she said, gesturing at the couch. "You're making the room feel tense just standing there."
I crossed to the couch and sat. She followed, settling into the cushion beside me with enough distance to be proper and enough proximity to be intentional. Her knee brushed mine when she crossed her legs. Casual contact. Normal. The kind of thing that happened all the time between us now.
"Long day?" she asked.
"Long week."
"Mmm." She tilted her head, studying me with those warm eyes that missed nothing. "Want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Good." A small smile played at her lips. "Because I wasn't really offering to listen."
I laughed despite myself. That was May—blunt, practical, cutting through bullshit with surgical precision. It was one of the things I liked most about her. She didn't coddle. She didn't pretend. She just was.
"It's been a while," I said. The words came out before I'd fully thought them through. "Since we had time alone."
Her smile softened. "Yes. It has."
We sat in silence for a moment. The weight of everything unspoken between us filled the space—not awkward, just present. She knew where she stood with me. She knew what she was. What we were. There was no confusion in her eyes, no uncertainty about her place. She'd accepted it months ago, accepted me, accepted all of it with a kind of quiet grace that still surprised me sometimes.
"I made tea," she said finally. "If you want some."
"Maybe later."
"Later," she repeated, and there was something in her tone that made the word sound like a promise.
She shifted closer on the couch. Not drastically—not enough to be obvious—but enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her body through her jeans. Her shoulder brushed against mine. Her scent filled my nose, something clean and floral with an undertone of vanilla.
"Alex."
Her voice was softer now. The playful edge had faded into something more intimate.
"Yeah?"
"I've been thinking." She turned her head to look at me directly. Our faces were close. Close enough that I could see the faint flecks of gold in her brown irises. "About how long it's been since we..."
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
"Too long," I said.
"Yes." Her hand found my thigh, resting there with gentle pressure. "Too long."
I turned toward her. My hand came up to cup her face, my thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. She leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering half-closed. A soft sound escaped her lips—not quite a moan, but close.
"May."
"I know." She opened her eyes, meeting my gaze with that steady confidence that was so uniquely her. "I'm not asking you to say anything. I'm just... here. However you want me."
The offer hung in the air between us. Simple. Direct. Unambiguous. That was May—she didn't play games, didn't manipulate, didn't try to get what she wanted through subtle hints or passive aggression. She stated her desires and let me decide what to do with them.
I decided.
My mouth found hers. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, a careful relearning of territory we'd explored many times before. Her lips parted beneath mine, soft and warm, tasting faintly of the chamomile tea she must have had earlier. Her hand tightened on my thigh, fingers pressing into the muscle.
I deepened the kiss. My tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her with a hunger that surprised me with its intensity. She made a sound—a low, soft "Mmm"—and pressed closer, her breasts flattening against my chest through the layers of fabric between us.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing harder than we had been.
"Bedroom?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Here. Now. I don't want to wait."
She was already moving, shifting on the couch to lie back against the armrest, her legs falling open in obvious invitation. The position caused her jeans to tighten across her hips and thighs, outlining the shape of her body in a way that made my mouth go dry.
"Please," she added, and the word was barely a whisper. "It's been so long."
I moved over her, settling between her spread legs. My weight pressed her into the couch cushions, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down into another kiss. This one was hungrier than the first, more desperate. Her hips rolled against mine, seeking friction.
"Easy," I murmured against her lips.
"I don't want easy." Her voice was breathy. "I want you."
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen and pink from kissing. Her chest heaved with each breath, making her breasts rise and fall visibly beneath that cream sweater.
"You'll get me," I said. "But I'm going to take my time."
She made a sound of protest—half whine, half whimper—but I was already moving down her body. My mouth found her throat, tasting the warm skin there. I kissed a line from her jaw to her collarbone, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips. Her hands fisted in my hair, not pulling or pushing, just holding.
"Alex..."
My name on her tongue was like a prayer. Or maybe a curse.
I continued my descent. My hands pushed her sweater up, exposing the plane of her stomach. I kissed the soft skin there, making her squirm. Her muscles twitched and jumped beneath my mouth.
"You're killing me," she gasped.
"Good."
I reached the waistband of her jeans. My fingers found the button, flicking it open with practiced ease. The zipper followed, the sound loud in the quiet apartment.
She lifted her hips without being asked, helping me tug the denim down over her hips. I didn't bother removing them completely—just enough to give me access. Her underwear was simple, practical cotton in a soft pink, already darkened at the center with evidence of her arousal.
"Look at you," I murmured. "Already so wet."
"I've been wet since you walked through the door."
The admission made heat pool in my gut. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her underwear and pulled. The fabric stretched, then tore with a soft ripping sound. May gasped.
"You owe me those," she said.
"I'll buy you better ones."
She laughed, but the sound cut off into a moan when I settled between her thighs. My breath was hot against her exposed sex. I could see her clearly now—the trimmed hair, the glistening folds, the way her opening clenched around nothing.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, Alex, I need—"
I gave her what she needed.
My tongue traced a slow line through her folds, tasting her. She was sweet and musky, warm and wet, and the flavor of her spread across my tongue like a drug. Her thighs trembled on either side of my head.
"Oh—oh god."
I did it again, slower this time. My tongue flattened against her, pressing firmly from her opening to the swollen bud of her clit. Her back arched off the couch cushions.
"Fuck!"
The word exploded from her, loud and unrestrained. Her hands flew to my head, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I let her. I let her guide me where she needed me most.
I focused on her clit. Soft, gentle strokes at first—barely there touches that made her whine and writhe. Her hips rolled, seeking more pressure, but I held back. Teasing. Building.
"You're such a tease," she panted. "Such a fucking tease, I swear to god—"
I sucked her clit into my mouth.
Her words cut off into a sharp cry. Her whole body went taut, every muscle locking up as pleasure washed through her. I held on, continuing to suck and lick, working her through the sensation.
When I finally released her, she was trembling. Her chest heaved. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused.
"We're not done."
She made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. "I didn't think we were."
I went back to work. This time, I let my tongue dip lower, probing at her entrance. She was wetter now, her juices coating my chin and lips. I pushed inside, tasting her more deeply, feeling her walls clench around my tongue.
"Ah—ahh—"
Her voice broke on the sounds. Her thighs pressed against my ears, trapping me in place. Not that I wanted to be anywhere else.
I fucked her with my tongue, setting a slow rhythm. In and out, in and out. My nose brushed against her clit with each thrust, providing just enough stimulation to drive her crazy.
"More," she gasped. "Please, more, I need—"
I added a finger.
It slid in easily, her body opening to accept the intrusion. I curled it forward, searching for that spot inside her that would make her—
"There! Oh fuck, right there, don't stop, don't you dare stop—"
I didn't stop. I worked my finger against her g-spot while my tongue returned to her clit, flicking rapidly back and forth. Her whole body shook.
"I'm—I'm going to—"
She came with a scream. Her walls clamped down on my finger, rippling and spasming. Her thighs crushed against my head so hard I could barely hear her moaning my name over the rushing of blood in my ears.
I worked her through it. Gentle now, softer. Drawing out every last tremor until she went limp against the cushions.
She laughed weakly. "Jesus Christ, Alex."
"We're still not done."
Her eyes widened. "I—you're serious?"
She swallowed hard. Her throat clicked. "Okay. Okay, yes. Please."
I started again. Slower this time. Her body was hypersensitive now, jerking and twitching at every touch. I kept my mouth gentle, almost lazy. Letting her come down while simultaneously building her back up.
"Where do you want me?" I asked against her skin.
"Inside." The word was breathless. "Inside me. Now. Please."
I sat up. My hands went to my belt, unbuckling it with practiced efficiency. May watched with hungry eyes, her gaze tracking every movement.
When I freed my cock, her breath caught. She'd seen it before, of course, but the sight still affected her. I was hard, aching, the length of me jutting forward from my open pants.
"Come here," she said, reaching for me.
I moved over her. Bracing myself on one arm, I used my other hand to guide myself to her entrance. The head of my cock pressed against her opening, spreading her folds.
"Ready?"
"Always."
I pushed inside.
The heat of her was incredible. Wet and tight, her walls gripping me like a glove as I sank deeper and deeper. We both groaned at the sensation—raw, direct contact with nothing between us.
"God, you feel good," I gritted out.
"You too. So big. So—ahh—"
I bottomed out, my hips flush against hers. For a moment, we just stayed there, connected completely. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, her breath coming in short pants.
"Move," she finally whispered. "Please, move."
I started slow. Rolling my hips in deep, deliberate thrusts. Each movement pressed me against her walls, dragging through her slick heat. The sensation was overwhelming—nothing but skin on skin, the wet sounds of our joining filling the room.
"Mmm... yes... just like that..."
Her voice was soft, dreamy. Her hands roamed over my back, nails scratching lightly through my shirt. I hadn't even taken my clothes off. Neither had she, really—her torn underwear was still tangled around one ankle, her jeans still bunched around her thighs. The sweater remained, though it had ridden up to expose her stomach.
Something about that made it hotter. The knowledge that we were still partially dressed, that I was inside her with my pants barely open, that anyone walking in would see everything.
"You like this?" I asked, thrusting a little harder. "Being fucked still half-dressed?"
"Yes." She gasped. "God, yes. It's so—mmm—so dirty. So good."
I leaned down to kiss her. Our mouths met in a messy clash of lips and tongues, swallowing each other's sounds. My pace increased, my hips snapping forward with more force.
She broke the kiss to cry out. "Ah! Yes! Harder! Fuck me harder!"
I gave her what she wanted. My thrusts grew faster, more intense. The couch creaked beneath us, the springs protesting. May's moans filled the room, echoing off the walls.
Her hands fisted in my shirt, yanking me closer. Her legs wrapped around my waist, ankles locking at the small of my back. The position drove me even deeper, and we both groaned at the new angle.
"I'm close," she gasped. "So close. Don't stop, please don't stop—"
I reached between us, my fingers finding her clit. I rubbed in tight circles, matching the rhythm of my hips.
Her eyes flew open. "Oh god, oh god, oh—"
She shattered. Her whole body seized up, her walls clamping down on my cock so hard I could barely move. A scream tore from her throat—loud, unrestrained, echoing through the apartment.
"Alex! Fuck! Yes! Yes yes yes—"
I fucked her through it, forcing my hips to keep moving despite the tight grip of her walls. The overstimulation made her jerk and twitch, her moans turning into whimpers.
"One more," I said. "Come for me one more time."
"I can't—I can't—"
"You can." My thumb pressed harder on her clit. "Come on my cock. Show me how much you love it."
She sobbed. Her nails raked down my back, catching on the fabric of my shirt. Her hips bucked wildly, trying to either escape or get more—I couldn't tell which.
"I'm—fuck—I'm—"
Her words dissolved into a wordless scream. Her body convulsed beneath me, every muscle seizing at once. Her walls rippled around my cock, massaging me in waves.
That was all I could take.
My orgasm crashed into me without warning. My hips slammed forward one final time, burying myself to the hilt as I came. Hot spurts of cum erupted from my cock, flooding her insides. The sensation of my release triggered another smaller peak in her, and she whimpered through a fourth orgasm as she felt me fill her.
"Inside," she moaned. "So hot. I can feel it. I can—mmm—feel everything."
I stayed inside her. My cock continued to twitch and pulse, releasing every drop I had to give. She clenched around me, working me through it, milking me for every last bit.
When it finally stopped, I collapsed beside her on the couch. We were both breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin despite the limited exposure. My cock slipped free of her body with a wet sound, followed immediately by a trickle of cum that stained the couch cushion beneath her.
"We made a mess," I said.
"Mmm." She stretched, catlike and satisfied. "Worth it."
I turned my head to look at her. She was still mostly dressed—sweater pushed up, jeans pulled down, underwear torn and hanging from one ankle. Her hair was a mess, her face flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded and content.
She looked beautiful.
"Stay?" I asked.
She smiled. "Where else would I go?"
We lay there in comfortable silence. The sounds of our breathing filled the room. Outside, the city continued its endless motion, indifferent to what had happened within these walls.
May's hand trailed down my chest, nails lightly scratching my skin, her touch lingering on my abs. A slow, wicked smile curled her lips as she propped herself up on one elbow.
"There's something I'd like to try," she murmured, fingers tracing the waistband of my open pants. "For the first time."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
She leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. "There's one thing I've never done."
The words sent a jolt through me. I pulled back to study her face—flushed, determined, daring.
"Your...?"
"Anal," she clarified, biting her lower lip. "I've never... but I want to. With you."