Lift Me Higher. Kim Shaw

left him exhausted. He searched for an escape from the frenzy of emotions that were racing through him, but there was no such escape.

      “Torie, I’ve been alone for a long time. To be honest, I think I was preparing myself to spend the rest of my life alone. I feel like a big kid, unsure and clumsy.”

      “I think that’s another thing that’s so endearing about you, Monte. The fact that I’m not just another notch on a very long belt for an incredibly gorgeous man,” Torie replied.

      “I’m not a ladies’ man, Torie, but I’m still a man and I want…well, I want to feel like a whole man again. I want to feel that with you,” Monte said.

      Without waiting for a reply, Monte kissed Torie’s eyelids, one at a time, staying the tears that had begun to form in them. She had never felt this close to a man in all of her thirty years, and she recognized that the bond she felt for Monte was beyond sex and far ahead of reason. It was spiritual in nature and, she realized, that was a more powerful aphrodisiac than any other.

      Monte’s hand moved to Torie’s tight torso. He pushed the orange tank she wore up, exposing a flat stomach. He let his hand roam and felt her stomach muscles constrict under his touch. He moved up farther, finding soft mounds of flesh that rose and fell beneath his hand. He sought to free her breasts from the lace bra. Once freed, her nipples responded to his touch, standing taut at attention. He bent his head, his lips making contact with the ripe buds one at a time. Torie moaned, spurring Monte on. He licked her nipples, encircling them with just the tip of his tongue. Torie writhed beneath him, arching her back so that her breasts were thrust farther into his face. He read her body language, understanding that she needed more, and he complied. Monte took one breast into his large mouth, devouring it, dining on it. He sucked with all his might, allowing his tongue to lap at the nipple alternately. With his thumb he flicked at the other nipple, not wanting any part of her to feel neglected. Monte took his time with her breasts, almost as though he would be perfectly content with just tasting those perfect peaks all day and night.

      Torie lifted her leg, encircling Monte’s massive thigh and rubbing it up and down against him. She reached behind him, her hand landing on his muscled rear. Through his khaki shorts she squeezed and kneaded that strapping bulge of muscle and flesh. Monte sat up, pulling Torie upward with him. In a sitting position, he pulled the tank over her head and then slid her bra straps down. He unhooked the clasp from the back of the laced material and, when Torie’s torso was completely bare, Monte stared in admiration. To him, she was pure perfection. He breathed heavily, before leaning forward to kiss each of her shoulders in turn. He found her mouth again to continue the dance their tongues had begun earlier.

      “Monte,” Torie whispered, her mouth moving to his left ear.

      Monte thought that his name had never sounded sweeter than it did as it tumbled from her tender lips. She slid her tongue into his ear and he trembled. She nibbled at his earlobe and he thought that he would pass out from the sheer pleasure of it.

      Torie stopped tonguing Monte’s ear abruptly, disengaging from his embrace. He opened his eyes, alarm coating his handsome face.

      “Take off your shirt,” Torie said, the tone of her voice revealing the depth of her arousal.

      Monte complied without hesitation, pulling his T-shirt over his head roughly and tossing it away from him. Torie smiled as she let her eyes roam freely across his sculpted chest and abdomen. She rose and Monte watched in a daze as she moved slowly around him until she was standing behind him. When she placed her fingertips on his shoulders, he felt as if he had been waiting for her to touch him there all of his life. She began to knead the tight expanse of neck and shoulders firmly, which felt better than a massage at any overpriced salon Monte had ever experienced. But when he felt Torie’s tongue lapping between his shoulder blades, he knew he’d never visit another masseuse again.

      “Ooh,” he groaned between clenched teeth.

      Torie’s hands slid to Monte’s pectorals as she dropped to her knees behind him. As she encircled the hard flatness of his nipples, he couldn’t tell if it was the sensations from her fingertips or the feel of her lovely bare breasts pressing into his back that caused his erection to intensify. He didn’t care what it was, as long as he could extend the pleasure forever. Monte turned slightly, grabbing Torie’s arm forcefully and pushing her down onto the blanket all in one swift movement. He covered her mouth, taking her kiss with force and stealing her breath away. Torie raised her arms above her head in surrender and Monte grabbed both of her hands in his, holding her immobile as he ravished her mouth, face and neck with an eager tongue.

      From a distance Monte heard the sharp tone of a trumpet blaring, and he thought that it was the perfect accompaniment to the symphony they were creating. When the sound grew louder, Monte realized with a start that it was his cell phone ringing.

      “Ignore it,” Torie whispered into his ear.

      And Monte did, at first. But the tones continued and he realized that he could not simply ignore it. He was a man with a family.

      “Hold on a minute, baby,” he said, disengaging from Torie.

      He snatched the device from the top of the picnic basket where he’d left it. Torie’s impatient expression made Monte want to chuck the phone into the lake and get back to loving her.

      “Hello,” he said, without looking at the display. “Cheryl? Cheryl, what’s wrong? I can’t hear you.”

      Monte sprung to his feet, moving a step or two closer to the cabin in the hopes of receiving better reception.

      “Is he talking? Is he awake? Okay. Yes…yes. Where are they taking him? Okay. Ask Mrs. Thompson across the street if she can stay with my mother and Joshua. I’ll meet you there. Okay, Cheryl. Thank you,” Monte said.

      He turned toward Torie, who sat looking up at him, her eyebrows knotted and a question poised on her lips. She had wrapped her arms around her naked breasts.

      “Baby, I’m sorry—we’ve got to go. It’s my son…Josiah,” Monte said as he hastily began to throw the remnants of their picnic lunch back into the basket.

      “What happened?” Torie asked, jumping to her feet.

      Her call fell on deaf ears as Monte the lover took a backseat to Monte the father.