Yearning for Love Page 3

  The next morning, I make breakfast for us. Corey is uncharacteristically shy when she wakes up. She’s wearing a snug pair of jeans with a comfortable high-necked sweater. On her feet, she has slipped a comfortable pair of low-heeled black boots made from a buttery-soft leather. Her hair falls around her shoulders like a fiery auburn collar, and she has put makeup on.“We’ll leave the El Paso International Airport in three hours, so we need to clear customs in about an hour and a half. I have meals and drinks stored on board, so we’ll eat comfortably, and once we leave El Paso, we should be in Germany in about 10 to 12 hours, depending on the weather. We’ll refuel in Atlanta,” I tell her.

  “That sounds good – about how long should we be gone?” Corey asks me.

  “Oh, about ten days,” I tell her. “Barring any interruptions, we should return right after the first of the new year. And no, I am not accepting your resignation. Just so you know.”

  “We’ll see,” Corey tells me, cheekily. That girl has some nerve! I will convince her to stay with me. While we’re in the air, we make love again. Corey is shy, worried that the pilot will come out from the cockpit of my plane. I tell her that he’s required to stay at the controls while we’re in the air. If he needs to communicate with me, he does so via the radio. She relaxes then, and we have a very satisfying session in the bed located at the back of my plane.

  Corey: As he promised, we landed in Germany about eleven hours after we left El Paso. The countryside is heavy with tall evergreens and deciduous trees stripped of their leaves. Nate picks up a car at the airport, and loads our luggage in the trunk. We drive to his cabin in the German countryside. While I see evidence of Christmas, the displays are much more subdued and much less garish than in the States. I’m grateful to see this. A light snow is falling as Nate drives to his chalet. When we get to the cabin, I can tell the temperature has fallen. We walk quickly to the front door and, once Nate unlocks it, we walk inside to a warm, well-appointed country cabin. I see a wooden table set with several chairs in the dining area. The kitchen is furnished with a state-of-the-art range and refrigerator. I walk all around the cabin, running my fingers over comfortable furniture. I see pictures hanging on the walls – German and Swiss mountain ranges, and several high-altitude pictures from different areas of this country. There are no Christmas decorations inside the house, and, given that it’s nearly Christmas, I doubt Nate will put any up. I exhale a sigh of relief, knowing that I won’t have to confront an in-your-face celebration of what is a Christian holiday. Don’t get me wrong! I don’t hate Christmas just to hate it. I love the holiday for its intended reason. What puts me off is the garishness and crass commercialism displayed in the U.S.

  “Hey, bundle up and we’ll go for a walk. Put on your gloves and wear a scarf, because it’s windy.

  “Okay, but once I turn into an iceberg, bring me in and park me in front of a roaring fire,” I tell him.

  He chuckles. “How about some goulash for dinner? With German bread, it’ll hit the spot and you’ll warm up,” he tells me.

  Thirty minutes later, we come back in. My nose is tingling and red. As promised, Nate builds a roaring fire in the kitchen, and heats up a fragrant goulash on top of the stove. Ten minutes later, I’m digging into a delicious meal. This German bread could be my downfall – it is so tasty, I eat more than I normally do. As I’m sitting in front of the fire, Nate pours a glass of wine for me.

  I try to demur – I’m not twenty-one, after all.

  “No worry. You meet the German legal drinking age, which is 16,” Nate tells me.

  “Okay.” I take a cautious sip of the deep red wine. I’m surprised, because it’s sweet, not dry.

  Nate smiles at me. “It’s a dessert wine, so it’s going to be sweeter and not as dry as other wines.”

  “It definitely warms me up,” I tell him.

  Nate joins me on the couch, and we watch the fire, drinking our wine. I’m growing sleepier and sleepier by the moment. Nate, seeing this, removes the glass from my fingers and takes it to the kitchen. Coming back to the living room, he offers his hand to me. I take it and, with our fingers intertwined, we walk to his large bedroom. We sleep until the gentle German sunrise peeks into the bedroom window.

  That first day we walked again so I could get used to the German countryside and the cold weather.

  “We’ll go skiing the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow, we’ll just spend a quiet day together, not celebrating Christmas – unless you want to,” Nate offers.

  “I’m just curious about how the Germans celebrate. I noticed some decorations in town, but they were much more subdued,” I tell him.

  “It’s definitely celebrated much more differently. Here, the Germans are almost . . . sober about the holiday. Yes, there are decorations and there’s the Christkindl Markt or the Christ Child Market. But they don’t start until early December. The decorations are more subdued and, at the same time, more classy, if you know what I mean,” Nate said.

  Listening to him, I began to get a picture of a Christian holiday celebrated without being loud, over-the-top or garish. “I think I do,” I tell him. “Maybe, walking around tomorrow, I’ll see some of what you mean.”

  That night, we make slow love, teasing each other with touches and kissing. By the end, we are so consumed with wanting that when we come, it’s explosive. Lying against him, I breathe heavily, as I try to get control of my body – and my emotions. I ask myself if I’m falling in love with Nate. If so, I am really in trouble.

  Nate: Seeing Corey as she experiences Germany for the first time is . . . fascinating. She’s never been overseas, so I’m gratified that I can show it to her. She enjoys the food, the German Christmas traditions, and the countryside. We go walking and skiing – we get lots of exercise. At night, we make love – slow love, fast love, rough love and gentle love. This is a side of Corey I hadn’t anticipated seeing. She’s not afraid of her own sensuality and, in fact, she’s able to share it with me. She participates completely in each of our lovemaking sessions, and even suggested we make love in front of the fireplace downstairs. She also suggested that we try it in the kitchen, on the counter. I grab some old towels to protect her beautiful, rounded ass, and we make love right there in the kitchen. Lifting and placing her on the towels, I realize the counter is just the right height for penetration. I alternate between kissing her and suckling at her breasts. At the same time, I play with Corey’s pussy and clit until she is breathless and flushed. She opens her legs wide, inviting me in. I slide my condom-covered dick into her, and wrap my arms around her as I move inside. It’s easier for me to play with her clit this way, so I tempt her, bringing her so close to orgasm, then backing down. I want this session to go on for as long as we have endurance. Seeing her grow flushed, and watching her hips jerking convulsively makes me even harder than I have ever been before. Soon, I am breathing very heavily onto Corey’s shoulder. I force myself to stop rocking inside her, or it’ll be over way too soon.

  Corey, sensing that I’m too close, stops moving. I feel her clenching her hands at the back of my neck, as she struggles with the sensations. Her breath becomes ragged as she tries to push the sensations within her pussy down. Finally, I move my arms around her beautiful, slim waist, and begin moving slowly and cautiously within her. I watch her face, alert for the signs that she’s about to come, so I can stop once again. I repeat this stop-and-start process for several long minutes until I feel that Corey’s pussy is completely engorged with blood. I feel her inner throbbing, which makes my body respond, throbbing and growing as large as I have ever been inside her. She groans low in her throat.

  “Are you okay, Corey?” I ask her.

  “Oh, God, yes! Keep doing this! It’s torture, but it feels so good!” she says with several ragged breaths. In response, I hold off on playing with her clit because I know she’s delicately balanced on the edge, and I want this to go on for quite a while longer.

  “Feeling you inside me, Nate . . . you’re . . . stretching
me . . . bigger than. . . I’ve ever . . . been. Oh, God. Move inside me, but be careful. I don’t want to come just yet,” she says desperately.

  I follow her directions, moving and then stopping, as she tells me to do. Just watching her reactions fuels my own, and I jerk inside her. I tremble, forcing myself to thrust inside her slowly and very carefully. I am on the edge of my own satisfaction, but I want to wait until Corey is fully satisfied.

  She drops her forehead on my shoulder, trembling with the effort not to come. She forces herself to keep her pussy from contracting, and that alone, adds to a new kind of tightness that sheathes me. She’s getting progressively hotter inside, the more she becomes engorged with blood. Finally, she tells me, “End it. I have to come. Now!” At that moment, she begins thrusting her beautiful pussy and hips more forcefully, and I finally resume manipulating her sensitive, engorged clit. As we make love, she kisses me and nips my lips with her sharp little teeth. I feel the vibrations begin slowly within her pussy, delicate and slow at first as she lets go, then more forceful as she screams her release into my chest.

  “AGGGGHHHHH! NATE! Oh, my God, this . . . I . . . “ Corey becomes incoherent as her walls contract, harder than I have ever felt, with her or anyone else. She wraps her legs around my hips, pulling and holding me in. I keep manipulating her clit, and she keeps screaming her release. Something different happens then – something that’s never happened before with Corey. She begins spurting her own ejaculation all over me and the towels under her, rapidly soaking them. The spurts are rhythmic, in time with her vibrations. I move my mouth to her swollen breasts, kissing and sucking, first one then the other. I want the sharp sensations she feels to extend her orgasms. She moves straight into two, three, then four orgasms.

  “Keep . . . keep playing with my . . . OHHHHH!” Corey says, as I keep massaging her love bud. Again, she keeps coming repeatedly. Seeing, smelling and hearing her sends me flying over the edge, as I parachute into a sea of sensations and feelings. My dick grows convulsively longer, as I spurt repeatedly into my condom, threatening to break it. Disregarding this, I keep thrusting forcefully inside her, coming again and again until, finally, we are so exhausted, our bodies hold each other up. I allow the strength to return to my legs, before I step back and pull Corey from the kitchen counter. I look at her and see her legs wobble as she gets strength and sensation back into her own body.

  “We’d . . . better clean up,” I tell her. We go upstairs to the large, well-appointed shower, where we wash each other. After our shower, we are completely exhausted. I pull the covers over Corey’s luscious, nude body, then mine, as we fall heavily asleep.

  ***

  I also notice something else. When we’re not “otherwise engaged,” she draws back from me, becoming more remote. It’s like I have two Coreys here in Germany with me, and I don’t know how I’m going to blend them together. I hope, with time, I can. Meantime, I entice her as much as I can with scrumptious German food, skiing, walking and shopping. If it weren’t so cold outside, I would suggest that we make love outside, at night – but, alas, we’d freeze our naughty bits, so that will have to wait for a warmer time. I catch myself thinking of the future with Corey in it. This is a first for me – thinking of my future with one woman in it. When I realize what is happening, I feel myself becoming introspective, wondering if what I think is happening – is. Am I falling in love with Corey Temple?

  ***

  Corey: The next day, we walk all over the village and countryside, as Nate promised. Nate keeps my hand securely inside his. We look like a couple. This thought makes my heart stop beating for a few seconds. Nate explains how the Germans celebrate Christmas.

  “They focus much more on the religious aspect here. They go to church and spend time with family. Sure, there’s gift giving, but it’s not the focus of the season for them. I actually like it this way better – which is why I came here,” Nate says.

  By the end of the day, while it is still very cold, I feel as though I’m acclimating to the temperatures and the countryside. I feel ready for a day’s skiing with Nate.

  Chapter 3

  “I’ve been skiing in Ruidoso, New Mexico, where my mother runs a bed and breakfast,” I tell Nate. “Is there anything different about skiing here?”

  “Follow the safety regulations and stay out of avalanche areas. Stick with me, and you’ll be just fine – if not very sore,” Nate warns.

  “In that case, I claim the shower first,” I tell him.

  “Or we can shower together,” he says with a wicked grin.

  I look at him, unable to respond. I think I’m in trouble. I know he doesn’t “do” commitment. I think – I really think – I’m falling in love with Nate Drummond. I want to stay and have fun with him – and at the same time, I want to get out of his vicinity because of my feelings. I’m sitting in one room of the cabin, thinking about all of this. I’m tucked into a comfortable armchair, thinking about my situation, when Nate walks in. Seeing him, I give him a small smile.

  “You okay?” he asks, with his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “I’m fine. Just thinking,” I tell him.

  “Let’s get to know each other better. Tell me more about your mother. Running a B&B is no easy feat,” he tells me.

  I chuckle ruefully. “No, it is not. I’ve helped her out when I’ve taken vacations. Cleaning, cooking, laundry, taking guest bookings, stocking the pantry . . . it never ends!”

  “Is your mother anything like you?” he asks.

  “She’s a homebody – she’s perfectly happy staying at home and making things comfortable for others. Running a B&B is the perfect outlet for her, even though it’s such hard work. She’s told me more than once that she collapses into bed at night, satisfied with how she’s worked and made her guests happy. She’s always researching new recipes and trying them out. Thankfully, she does have a small staff – a gardener and a housekeeper who commute from the Mescalero Indian Reservation, so she doesn’t have o do everything by herself.”

  “How long has she run the B&B?”

  “Oh, a good eight, maybe 10 years, at least. She’s always going to live in the mountains. She prefers it to the desert, because she can stay so much cooler.”

  Nate chuckles at my last sentence. “That is for sure. So, she doesn’t like the heat?”

  “Hates it. She’d rather deal with snow and ice than the heat,” I tell him.

  “And you?”

  “Me? On the heat or cold? I prefer the cold, but I can handle the heat a little better than her. When I’m sick of 100 degree plus temperatures, I just escape to her B&B for a few days, and help her out,” I tell Nate.

  “Interesting,” Nate says.

  Nate: I watch Corey closely. When she talks about her mother, she is animated and relaxed. Otherwise, she holds herself closed off from me – which disappoints me. I have two Coreys here – one reserved and closed off, and the other open and enthusiastic, especially during lovemaking.

  Corey: “Tell me about your family. Do you have brothers or sisters? Parents?”

  “Parents. They’re still living, but we’re estranged,” Nate tells me.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! Why?”

  “We’re estranged because they disapprove of what I do.”

  “But . . . but you’re a successful businessman! You own an oil company!” I say.

  “They want me to do anything but the oil business,” says Nate.

  “Are they against the use of fossil fuels?” I ask. That’s the only reason I can think of for this kind of disapproval.

  “From what I can see,” Nate says quietly. He smiles and perches himself on the side of my chair. Running his hands through my hair, he begins to caress my cheek. One hand slides to my rounded breast, and my eyes close in wanting. A few minutes later, he pulls me into his arms, and carries me to his bedroom, where we lazily strip each others’ clothing off and lie in bed for several hours, making love a few times. I can’t seem to get enough of h
im – and, for that matter, Nate can’t seem to get enough of me. He carries me to various areas of the house, and we experiment with different positions and locations – the top of the bathroom sink, in the bathtub, in front of a crackling fire. Everywhere there’s enough room to hold the two of us, we make love. By the end, I’m panting and exhausted.

  Nate: Now I’m sure of it. There’s only one Corey lying beside me in bed, but there are definitely two of her inside that beautiful body. Right now, I’m with the warm and enthusiastic one. When we get up, she’ll change to the elusive one. I want to bring up the possibility of a committed relationship, which is a first for me. I’ve dated, but I’ve never been in an exclusive relationship. I feel the pull of such a relationship with Corey, but . . . I don’t know what she wants. I pull her into my body, and nestle her head into the spot between my shoulder and arm. She wraps one arm and leg around me, brushing my shaft, making it twitch in desire. Slowly, we drift off to sleep, and my last thought is that I can actually see myself going to bed with the same woman for the rest of my life. I wake later, and Corey has already gotten out of bed. I know where she’ll be – sitting curled up in that big armchair by the fire. What she’s thinking about, I don’t know, and this actually frustrates me. Used to be, I didn’t care, but now – I do. I hope it’s just that she’s afraid of pushing commitment on me. Maybe if I take her to Munich for a few days, we can go sightseeing and eat in nice restaurants. Who knows? This might help her loosen up when we’re not making love. I’d like to bring up the topic of a committed relationship and see where that goes.