First Time with Benton

(This is a scene from another story of mine. One of my very first stories. It is the second book I started. Or perhaps the 3rd. >.> Well anyway... I hope one day I will finish it, as I liked the characters and the story. But we'll see. Anyway, here is the sex scene from it. I didn't edit it because I figured it was a good story to compare with my others. I have come a long way in my writing style, eh? LOL. Well, I think so at least. Enjoy.)

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Nora woke with a jolt, back arched, hands covering her breasts over the blanket, chest heaving, a moan coming from deep within. As the orgasm ended, she lie in bed, looking at the ceiling, remembering the dream. It had been of Benton Frasier.

She threw aside the blanket, climbed out of bed and stalked to her dresser. She pulled out the shorts that were too short and a tight pink shirt. She fastened her white lace bra and put on the black thong.

Damned if she was going to lose any more sleep over Frasier, she thought as she slipped on a pair of heels. She left her hair down, didn't bother to brush it since the tumbling mass of curls looked gorgeous on her. She put on some strawberry tasting lip-gloss and snatched up her car keys. Walking quietly down the steps and through the front door she headed towards her car. She checked her rear view mirror and saw her face. It had a look of frustration, concentration and determination on it. Holy cow, she thought, what a use of words. Starting the car she pulled out and began the drive to Frasier's apartment.

"Guess she finally couldn't take it anymore." Susan said from the living room window.

"Yeah, did you see her? She looked ready to kill some one. And in style too."

"Yeah, well us Irish never do anything half-assed. Not even seduce our men." She kissed William.

"I don't think she saw us siting here do you?" They were siting on the couch.

"Not at all."

"Hope that Frasier fellow can handle himself." William said, slipping a hand under his wife's shirt.

"I hope he can handle her." She answered, smiling. The kids were at friend's houses and Jacob was sleeping. "And I hope you can handle me." She added, straddling him.

"Looks like we're all getting some action tonight." William whispered.

. . .

She ran a red light. She had been doing that a lot lately, she thought. Shit, she had been doing a great many things lately that she never did. Which was another reason she was headed to Benton's apartment. She was going to march up to his apartment, knock, be invited in, and fuck him. Just jump him right there in the kitchen if need be. Susan was right; she was way over due for an oil check.

She had dreamt of him so many times and she just couldn't take it anymore. It was no secret that she loved him. Well, not to any of her family anyway. He wouldn't see it if it hit him in the face. Or bit him in the ass. She smiled. And she would have plenty of places to bite him, she thought, now just five blocks from his place. And she was damned if she'd feel guilty about it.

Just because your husband dies doesn't mean you have to stay celibate for the rest of your life. Does it?

No! Absolutely not. Joshua would understand. He always had, and that was why she had loved him so deeply. Still did after all these years. And that was why she needed Benton. She would knock his socks off. She knew what she wore would make him think, and once she got him thinking she would get him to act out those thoughts. The few kisses they had shared had been enough. Then, but not now. Not anymore. Now she needed everything. He knew her past, everything she had told Susan.

Well, almost everything. After tonight she would tell him everything. Yes, everything, she concluded.

When she pulled up in front of his apartment building and got out, she hesitated, looked up at his window and then walked quickly to the entrance and slipped inside. It was freezing, and she was wearing daisy dukes. Goddamn hormones, she thought as she got into the elevator and pressed the button for his floor.

When the elevator doors slid open and his apartment loomed straight ahead she swallowed and practically ran to it. It was now or never. She knocked and waited.

And waited. She knocked again, heard Diefenbaker bark. She heard the footsteps, saw the shadow under the door, and knew he was checking his peep whole and wondering what the hell she was doing here. But he only saw her face. Not her body so he couldn't possibly know. When the door opened and his eyes focused on her and widened confusedly she pushed past him and into his apartment. It was the same as it had been the first time she'd seen it.

He turned, and shutting the door asked, "What are you doing here now. Is everything okay?" He stared at her, studying and trying not to be interested in the body she had poured into tight clothing. Her hair was long and red and waved like the sea, and his hands itched to touch it. What was she doing here dressed like that? It was freezing outside.

"Everything is fine Benton. Everything is fine. Everything but us." She threw her keys on the counter, kicked off her shoes. She had forgotten her coat in the rush so she didn't even have that to toss around.

"Us?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and wondering why she had made herself at home.

"Did you get thrown out?" he asked suddenly, the thought dawning on him. And they hadn't let her get her clothing. So she had come here. Poor thing, he thought, and went into the kitchen to get her some water. He saw his brown leather jacket and picked it up and handed it to her.

She stared at the jacket, then him. He really was clueless, she knew now. Totally and helplessly clueless. "Benton, I'm not cold." She said in what she thought was a remarkably controlled voice, taking the jacket and tossing it on the couch. "I'm frustrated."

"Oh. Why?" She was confusing him now and he didn't know what to do. Truth was his mind was beginning to wonder what was under her clothing.

Just come out and say it Nora, her mind told her, now or never. "Because I want you."

He stared at her, knowing what she had said but pretending he hadn't.

She sighed, annoyance making the expulsion come fast and hard. "Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. You know what I mean and you have better respond before I scream."

He was looking at her like she had spoken another language.

It was several moments before he found his voice. She had shocked him. He was a simple man, with simple tastes and simple desires. And he'd known from the beginning that she was a firecracker. Somehow he had managed not to get burned. Up till now. She seemed ready to go off. "Alright. What do you want me to say Nora? What do I say to that?" He forgot the drink he had been getting for her, and they stood where they were, looking at each other.

"Say what you feel Benton. Do you want me too or not? And you had better tell the truth because if you lie I will kill you. I'm not in the mood for playing games right now." She clenched her teeth as she waited.

"Okay," he said slowly, almost reluctantly. "I do want you Nora. But-"

Quick as a snake striking she was in his face, challenging. "But what? Huh? But what Benton?" Her eyes flickered over the handsome ridges of his face, alight with an inner spark that managed to arouse him.

He forgot what he was thinking and could only remember what her body had felt like under his.

"But I don't do this. Not like this." He said it quietly, simply.

"Neither do I. Believe me, neither do I. But I can't take it anymore. I can't take dreaming of you like I do, never being able to get you out my mind. Always wondering what it would be like to have you. I can't take it anymore. I need release." She looked pleadingly into his eyes.

He knew how she felt, needed what she needed. "I can't give you what you need Nora." He whispered regrettably.

Her eyes flashed temper. "The hell you can't Benton. The hell you can't." She turned to pace barefoot around the kitchen. "I know damn well you want me. Just because you're a Mounty doesn't mean you don't feel or need or want or wish. Or dream. Just like I dream." She stopped, walked back to him and stood with her body firmly pressed along the length of his this time. "And by golly I am going to have you. And I'll wrestle you if I have to. But I will have you." She drug his mouth down to hers, pressed herself against him until he hit the counter and could do nothing but remain trapped there. He felt her slip her tongue into his mouth, didn't fight but let his tongue tango with hers. He let his hands tangle in her hair, let her mold her curves to his hard planes. Any gentlemenship he had dissipated, and the aching animal inside took over.

Mouths still locked, he walked them forward until she bumped the table. It was as good a place as any, he thought, and pushed her onto it. She sat, opened her legs and scooted until he was between them, and she was pressed into him. Nora broke the kiss just long enough for her to grab the front of his pajamas. "Nice out fit." She said with a smile and ripped each button down the middle. He didn't care, surprisingly, but smiled also.

"Thanks." He brought her mouth back to his and turned the kiss desperate. She gripped his broad shoulders in her hands and tugged the pajamas down his arms, down his body, let him step out of them. Then she pressed her hands to his chest. She had waited so long to feel his bare flesh. She combed through the brown hair that was lightly sprinkled over his chest, let her hands roam up and down his torso and pushed him closer to her so she could feel his shivers, so they could coarse through her as well as him.

He needed to feel her, touch her. He brought his hands up from where they had held her hips to her breasts and molded them to them. She moaned, pressed her chest harder into his hands, let her hands reach down and grab his butt. She pulled him to her, pressed as hard as she could into his boxers, moaned with him at the sharp ache that throbbed through both of them. He was rock hard and grinding against the crotch of her jeans. She was wet enough that her secretion had soaked her thong and the jean crotch.

"God, I want you." He ground out when they pulled apart long enough to gulp air. He took the bottom of her shirt into his hands and pulled upwards. She stretched her arms above her head so he could get it off and gasped when he took her breast into his mouth and sucked it through the lace brazier. He reached around her back, unfastened her bra and threw it aside. He looked at her breasts and almost cried with delight.

They were pale, soft as rose petals, and tasted of powder and salt, the nipple taught, areola large. He feasted, nipped, bit, licked, and drove her over the edge. The orgasm wasn't strong but it was enough to set the pounding of blood in her head to a feverish pace. He brought his mouth back to hers and locked their lips again, let their tongues play while he searched for her short's button. When he found it he popped it open with a tiny flick of his thumb. She lifted herself with her hands long enough for him to pull them down and off to join the bra.

He saw the black thong, ached to have her around him and ripped it off. She smiled against his lips, pressed her body once again to his. His boxers were the only things left separating them so she took them and tugged downward. She looked at him and throbbed more. If it was possible. "God Benton, take me now. Oh take me inside of you," she panted, green eyes on his. He crushed his mouth to hers again, placed his hands on either side of her to push her just over the edge, and drove into her in one hard, fast stroke.

Their twin groans mingled in air gone thick with desire.

She clamped tight around him, gripped his hips, and moved as he moved. Met each frantic thrust with a thrust of her own. His mouth swallowed her first orgasm. His hands stayed on her hips, kept pumping into her as he came, shuddered, but kept moving. She broke the kiss, bowed back until she lay flat on the table, and covered her bare breasts with her own hands as Benton's finger bit into her hips and he thrust harder, stroked deeper.

Just like in the dream, she thought as the second wave of heat hit her like a fist. She arched her back like a bow, breathed out the waves of pleasure, swallowed her own grateful scream to keep the neighbors from wondering. Then panted back down, covered his large hands, and made mewling noises as he drove himself towards the same jagged peak. When he came he moaned long and deep, collapsed on her, panted with her. She cradled his head on her breasts, stroked his hair. He was still in her, too tired to move. She didn't mind one bit.

"Benton." She whispered, a little pleased smile plastered to her flushed face.

"Huh?" he asked, playing with her hair again.

"You're crushing me." She said on an exhausted laugh. The weight of a man felt so good, she thought. The sexual tension was gone, and she was blessedly numb.

"Oh sorry." He lifted himself up, stepped back and looked at her laying on his small kitchen table, stretched out over it, legs open and dangling limply off the front. And he looked between those gorgeous legs, at the sticky moisture that said she had been well loved, and then back at her. She hefted herself up on her elbows and smiled, kicked one leg idly. "I really needed that. And you did too. I had no idea a Mounty could be so... good." She finished, teasing him.

"Oh yeah? Watch this." He dropped to his knees, opened her legs wider, looked at her over the curly patch of red pubs.

"What?" She looked more than a little surprised. "I can't now. I'm too tired. I couldn't possibly. Oh!" she finished when he went down on her. He used his tongue, stuck it as far as he could inside her and devoured her. Her elbows slid out from beneath her and she fell to the table again, brought her legs to rest on his shoulders, let her hands fist in his hair and pushed into his tongue. She squeezed her eyes closed, grimaced at the exquisite pleasure. The orgasm washed over her and had her moaning his name over and over. When he continued to feast, to suck and lick her, she let her hands thud to either side of her hips, breathed quickly at the next orgasm. He gripped her hips again, continued to ravish her.

"Uh!" that last word that burst from her lips as she bucked against him told him that she had had enough.

"Still think we're 'good'?" he asked, standing again and looking at her. He licked his lips.

"No." she wheezed, swallowed and added, "You're fan-fucking-tastic. Now, take me to bed. I need some sleep." She held out her arms, smiled when he took them, and wrapped them around his neck. He put an arm beneath her knees the other around her back and lifted. His grip included her left breast and he carried her to the bedroom, which was a short walk through his small apartment. He dropped her on the bed, didn't bother with the door. Both ignored the dog as it lifted its head and glanced at them with a silly _expression. It woofed once, then lowered its head back to its shaggy paws and yawned and went back to sleep.

"Do you think you're going to be getting any sleep tonight Nora?" He slowly sauntered towards the bed, let her watch him with amused and languid eyes, and lowered himself on top of her.

"No I don't." She leaned up to meet his lips, slipped her legs open and wrapped them around his waist.