Author's notes:
Thank you again for reading. Your feedback has been welcome and greatly appreciated. This is the fifth of six chapters.
Any medical and/or legal details in this story should not be considered factual.
**
Mac woke to the buzzing of his alarm clock, and for a brief moment was surprised to find a warm body pressed against him. The disorientation passed and he smiled contentedly. Even after a month, waking up next to Nadja hadn't lost any of its appeal; it still filled him with a mix of delight and wonder. In six weeks he'd gone from sharing a cell with a shaggy car thief to sharing a bed with a pretty girl.
He silenced his alarm and rolled on his side, facing her, then slid his arm over her and rubbed her bare stomach. She responded almost automatically, turning away and pressing into his bare chest, snuggling closer and wiggling her hips in a silent invitation. She slept nude, always available to his hands.
He leaned in and kissed the back of her neck and she sighed happily in response. She hadn't been a fan of kissing at first, but the last couple of weeks she'd come around. She still didn't initiate kisses but seemed to enjoy receiving them on her neck and shoulders, though not the face.
His thumb and index finger sought and captured her left nipple and gently pinched and rolled. Her hand came up and stroked his forearm. He loved the intimacy of touching her this way, loved the notion that her body was his to enjoy. They lay together for a few minutes, breathing and touching and enjoying the closeness.
How could waking up at five in the morning feel so good?
Soon enough, he decided he wanted more – there was a long day of work ahead, so why not get it started on a high note? He rocked his hips forward, nudging her ass with his semi-hard cock. She knew what he wanted and wiggled again in response. Her hand left his forearm and slid between them, closing over his shaft and gently stroking it to full erection.
He wished he could just pull her against him and slide into her pussy from behind, but he knew the preparation required for that kind of sex would be too ambitious for so early in the morning.
Instead he lay on his back, kicking off the bed sheet and comforter in the process. The apartment was cool but not uncomfortably so given how hot he felt.
Nadja rolled out of bed and stretched; he could barely make out her slim silhouette in the darkened room. She crouched briefly next to the bed, then climbed between his knees, nudging them gently apart so that she could kneel between his thighs.
He felt her hands on his cock, warm and slippery – she'd dipped them in the bowl of olive oil that was left over from the massage he'd given her the previous night.
He enjoyed giving her bed-time massages as much as she liked receiving them, and the rub-downs were becoming a welcome fixture in their nightly routine. When he had his hands on her, his stress and aggravation melted away. Her presence seemed to dissolve his headaches. She was better than Tylenol.
She slid both hands up and down his shaft, knowing exactly how hard to grip, how fast to go, when to caress his scrotum and when to smooth her palms over the sensitive head.
He'd always thought that hand jobs were the lowliest of the sexual acts – the consolation prize – something you got when you didn't get what you really wanted. Not so with Nadja – the pleasure he felt from her expert touch was intense and exquisite. His orgasm was coming on fast. His breath was rapid now. His body burned with arousal.
"Tell me when," she whispered, the first words spoken that morning. Somehow she could tell when he was getting close.
He didn't want to come. Not so soon. He wanted to stay in bed, naked and spread as she knelt over his cock, her fingers working their magic, sending throbbing waves of ecstasy through him. But before long the need for release became undeniable. He felt his core tighten. He couldn't keep his hips still, they lifted, thrusting into her hot hands.
"Now," he gasped.
She bent and took the head of his cock into her mouth while her hands continued to squeeze and caress his shaft. Her long hair fell forward onto his stomach and he slid his fingers into it, delighting in the softness.
He felt a tightness, a clenching at the base of his cock and he groaned as his orgasm hit hard. He thrust upward, trying to bury himself in her mouth. In response she took him in deeper, her lips tight around his shaft, her hand still pumping, squeezing, milking. She sucked and stroked and swallowed, prolonging his pleasure.
Even as his spasms began to fade she kept him engulfed, her hands and tongue gentle now, guiding him down from his climax. Only when he'd regained his breath did she release him from her mouth and kneel back on her heels.
"How was that?" she asked. She knew he loved it, but she liked to hear it said out loud – his pleasure made it good for her, too.
"I never wanted it to end."
"Maybe I'll slow it down next time? Make you beg for it?" her voice was teasing and he chuckled.
Nadja had come a long way in just a month. She had opened to him fully – her wariness was gone and new aspects of her personality seemed to emerge every day. Her growth was welcome and gratifying.
"I'll beg now if you want. A down payment for next time?" he said.
"No need to grovel," she replied, "although I should mention we're out of ice cream. If you wanted to stay in my good graces..."
"I'll pick some up on the way home."
"Good boy," she said, planting a series of hot kisses on his softening cock, then sliding out of bed. "We're getting low on milk, and we're down to half a dozen eggs, so if they're on sale..."
Nadja walked through the darkness toward the kitchenette to put the kettle on. She'd eagerly seized control of the household duties – not that he'd put up much a fight. She helped him in so many ways.
"Ice cream, milk and eggs. Anything else?"
"Olive oil. You've been getting more of it on my body than in your mouth."
He laughed, then pulled himself out of bed and headed for the shower. It was time to begin what promised to be a busy day.
**
Hannah's Hope was a support group that met in the evening twice per month in a sterile but well-appointed boardroom on the second floor of the Central Library. Its mission was to provide education, friendship and resources for women in the sex industry.
It had been one of the organizations that Brenda, a nurse at the STI clinic, had recommended to Nadja during her checkup. The results of those tests weren't available yet, but in the meantime Nadja wanted to attend the support group and see what it was all about – and how it could help her.
Mac didn't know what to expect from the gathering as he led Nadja to a seat around the huge oval desk that dominated the middle of the room. Part of him had expected to see hard-bitten street walkers and sleazy, jaded strippers but the truth surprised him – the dozen or so women who gathered for the meeting wouldn't have looked out of place at a shopping mall or a restaurant. They looked like...normal women.
"I'm sure you'd be welcome to stay," Nadja whispered as she removed her winter coat.
"Maybe," he said, "but I'll grab a book and wait outside. I want you to be able to speak freely."
"Okay. I think this finishes by eight-thirty. If we go long, come and get me...we don't want to miss your curfew."
He left Nadja there, wandered out into the library and found a nearby magazine rack. He picked out a few sports magazines and found a seat where he could keep an eye on the boardroom. He was probably worried over nothing, but he couldn't shake the idea that if her former pimp was looking for Nadja, this might be someplace he could turn up. If that happened, help would be close by.
Mac's feelings for her had only intensified over the past month, and he got the sense that she felt the same way about him. They'd never discussed it – Nadja shied away from displaying a lot of emotional intimacy and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable by broaching the subject with her. In any case, what was the rush? Neither of them was going anywhere in the near future; they had time to let things develop at their own speed.
