Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Richie took Jen into his arms and held her close to his body. He trailed kisses from her jaw to the spot just under her ear that made her whimper. Pressed against his body, Jennifer could feel the hardness of his erection. Richie eased away slightly, afraid that having her rubbing against him would make him cum in his jeans. He kissed his way down her neck, taking time to lick and suck every inch thoroughly. By the time he got to her shoulder, she was quivering.

Richie cupped Jennifer’s face with his hands and sipped from her lips. She kissed him back eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck. He slid his hands down to the buttons of her blouse, and opened them slowly. When the garment wouldn’t fall from her arms, he gently pulled them from around his neck. He quickly divested her of her bra as well, while never taking his mouth from hers.

He scooped her up and brought her into the living room, where she finally noticed the fire burning. Spread out in front of the fire was a sea of duvets and blankets, all covered with soft, cotton sheets. As Richie laid her down gently, their mouths parted, and Jennifer chuckled. “Did you find every blanket in the house?”

“Just about,” he answered, stripping off his own shirt and shoes. “I left our bed made for later.”

He stretched out by Jennifer’s side and leaned over to take one pebbled nipple into his mouth. He moaned with pleasure. “Damn, I missed you,” he said.

Jennifer threaded her fingers through Richie’s hair and gasped as he sucked hard on the tiny peak. “God, I missed you too.”

While his mouth worked, his hands were busy unzipping her slacks and pulling them and her panties down and off her legs. “How’s your knee?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” she said, pulling his head down for another mind-numbing kiss. “Practically good as new.”

“Good,” Richie said. “Because I want to feel both of your legs pulling me in tighter to you when I’m making love to you.”

He grazed a hand down Jen’s side to the top of her thighs, tickling the little patch of hair there. When her legs parted, seemingly of their own accord, Richie didn’t hesitate, and dipped his fingers in between to find Jen already damp. He skimmed his fingertips along her sensitive lips, parting them slightly to dip one finger inside. Lubed up, he slid it around her clit before pressing the tiny ball into her, making her shiver.

Jennifer half-sat and pulled at Richie’s belt, unbuckling it quickly. She fought with the button on his jeans and struggled with the zipper, as it was pulled taut across his bulging erection. “Help me,” she grunted.

Richie rolled onto his back and finished unfastening his jeans, and pulled them off, kicking them away. Rolling back to her, poking her leg with his cock, he asked, “better?”

“Mmmm,” Jennifer answered, taking his long shaft in her hand. “Much. I want you inside me, Rich. I need you.”

Richie didn’t need for her to ask a second time. He rolled so he was cradled between Jen’s legs and pushed gently into her, filling and stretching her. Jen’s neck arched and her head lolled to one side as the sensation of being filled as only this man could fill her, body and soul, overtook her. When he started stroking in and out of her slowly, she raised her legs and looped them together around his back.

“I just want to feel you inside me for a minute,” Jen said, pulling at his shoulders. “Please, just let me feel you.”

Richie obliged, laying atop Jennifer, feeling her heartbeat with his. When the two beats matched, he pushed up, his hands on either side of Jen’s face, and started rolling his hips again. Slowly.

Jen’s legs dropped back to the floor, and she bent her knees, planting her feet wide. Richie knelt up and took Jennifer’s calves and draped them over his arms. He pushed at her thighs with his hands, opening her more to him, and the change in angle had him pressing just so slightly upward within her.

“God, Rich,” Jen said, her voice a strangled whisper.

He picked up the pace, the crackling of the fire and the steady slap of their bodies the only noises in the room. He felt her start to tense, and he stopped, waiting for her eyes to open. When she slitted then just enough to make out his face, he smiled. “I want to watch your eyes,” he said. “They turn colors when you cum.”

Jen groaned and opened her eyes as best as she could. Richie let Jen’s legs down, then dropped his hands to either side of her head. He leaned down to kiss her, then pressed his forehead to hers as his hips continued to piston. He could feel her squeezing him, tighter and tighter, and knew she was getting close. He felt the tell-tale tingle at the base of his balls that told him he was getting close, too.

They locked eyes for the last few strokes and when oblivion came, it took them swiftly, washing over them in wave after wave of heart-stopping pleasure. Richie watched as Jen’s eyes darkened through several shades before finally rolling back in her head. He continued to pump in and out of her until he started to go limp, and only then pulled out of her. When Jen whimpered, he quickly started to stroke her clit, tight, quick circles that brought her to orgasm again. She cried out and thrashed on the blankets as the buzzing that started at her core quickly worked its way through her. Richie kept up the gentle pressure on her bud for long minutes, rubbing it until she begged him to stop. Only then did he slip between her thighs again and slide home.

He bent down to kiss her deeply, his tongue matching the thrusts of his hips. Jennifer, still buzzing from the assault on her clit, clamped down almost immediately with wave after wave of pure bliss. Her head got fuzzy as all the blood slowly drained from her brain. She didn’t know where it went, and didn’t care. She had her Richie back, that was all that mattered.

Much later, when they were sated and sleepy, and the fire had burned down to nearly nothing, Richie spoke. Jen’s head was pillowed on Richie’s chest, and he was tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Are you awake, darlin’?”

Jen chuckled, shifting her leg so it was twined more firmly around his. “Sure am, baby, what’s up?” Her hand snaked down to between his legs. “Not you.”

“Damn woman, I’m not a young man anymore. Give me a little time to rest, and we can pick up where we left off.” He caressed her head, and pulled her hair out from under it so he could sift it through his fingers. “I brought you something.”

Jennifer pushed up onto one elbow. “A present? You bought me a present?”

“Not bought, brought. Wanna see it?”

“Oh absolutely.” She scooted over so Richie could get up.

She watched as he sauntered across the room, his thigh and ass muscles flexing as he walked. He bent over to flip up the lid of his suitcase, and Jennifer groaned when his balls pushed between his legs.

“Oh NO! My eyes! My eyes! Not a good look, there sweet cheeks.”

Richie laughed and spread his legs a little so his cock hung down between his thighs. “Better?”

“Oh yes, much,” Jen agreed.

Shaking his head, Richie dug through his suitcase and came up with an inch-thick large flat package wrapped in silver paper. He sauntered back to the bed, and stopped just short, holding the package just out of Jen’s reach. “I just want you to know how very, very important you are to me.” He handed her the package and sat facing her on the pallet.

Jennifer locked eyes with Richie for a minute, seeing the truth to his words there. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and carefully slit the tape on the paper.

Richie chuckled. “One of these days, I’m going to get you to rip the paper.”

“Never,” Jen answered. “I’m too set in my ways.” She smiled as Richie leaned forward to kiss her lips, and giggled when she parted the sides of the elegant wrapping. “Bubble wrap?” she said. “Ooh, what is this a picture of?”

“I’ll never tell,” Richie answered. “You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Jennifer tore away the tape holding the bubble wrap over its precious cargo. She gasped at what she saw. “Oh Rich,” she whispered. “How in the world...”

In an antique silver frame was a black and white photo of a very young Jennifer being kissed on the cheek by a very young Richie.

“Tony owed me a favor or six,” he quipped. Then he explained how Tony had photographed much of Richie’s solo endeavors back in the 90’s, when Jon didn’t have anything for him to do. “I just called him and asked him to dig through the stuff he had from San Diego back in the day.”

“And he found it?” Jennifer was incredulous, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the photograph. “That was more than a decade ago!” She traced a finger over Richie’s image, at the slight crinkling of his eyes, over the long dark hair that she now knew to be soft as sable.

“It’s our first kiss,” Richie said. “Preserved for all posterity.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jennifer said, finally raising her gaze to meet his.

Much later, after she showed Richie just how happy the gift made her, they hung the photograph in Jennifer’s bedroom next to the door, so it would be the first thing she saw in the morning, and the last thing she saw before going to sleep.

Richie and Jen spent the remainder of the weekend together, separating only when absolutely necessary. They talked and cried together, made love and laughed together. They walked a thousand miles around the lake on her property, telling each other everything they hadn’t told each other yet. By the end of the weekend, they knew each other as well as two people possibly could.

Monday, Jennifer called in sick to work. She and Richie went to visit her parents, who were tolerant but wary. They had seen the pain in Jen’s eyes, heard it in her voice, and weren’t quite so quick to forgive Richie as their daughter. But, when they saw how positively serene, how purely happy and content their baby girl was, they relented, and welcomed Richie back into their hearts.

“We don’t know what happened,” Jennifer’s father said, “and we don’t want to know. Just know that we only forgive you because she forgives you.”

“And,” Ma added, “if you ever hurt her like that again, it will be the last thing you do.”

Later that night, as Richie and Jen were clearing up dinner in her kitchen, Jen’s phone rang. “Can you get that?” Jen asked, wet up to her elbows at the sink.

“You got it, darlin’,” Richie said. He hit the speakerphone button. “Yes, can we help you?”

“Rich, man is that you?” Jon’s voice came through the tiny speaker.

“Who else is it gonna be, asshole? What’s up?”

“Is Jen there?”

“Right here, Jon,” Jennifer called. “I’m doing the dishes, or I would have answered myself. How’s the weather in Galveston?”

“We’re actually in New York,” Jon said. “The hurricanes were fierce, and we had to evacuate. T’s fairly pissed off, but it was JUST TOO DANGEROUS!” He yelled the last few words, and Jen and Richie could hear a faint “No it wasn’t!” in the background. Jon laughed and continued. “We were wondering if you could stand our company for a few days.”

Jen and Richie exchanged a glance. “Sure,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

Jon chuckled. “Nothing much, just the damned paparazzi are practically stalking T, and she isn’t really thrilled with it. We could go to Philly or out to Jersey, but T said...” he trailed off, and the woman in question took the phone.

“T said,” Tiffany continued where Jon left off, her soft drawl filling the kitchen, “that if I’m gonna be thrown out of my home, and be stalked like a damned deer just because I’m wearin’ this lil bit of sparkle on my hand...”

“WHAT?” Jennifer shouted excitedly. “You’re getting married? Oh, T, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

“Yeah,” Tiffany answered, laughing softly, “he made me an offer I couldn’t possibly refuse. Anyway, I wanna come out there to visit. Maybe stay a few days?”

“As long as you need,” Jen said. “When are you coming?”

“Day after tomorrow okay by you?”

“Absolutely,” Jen said. “I’ll have Rich help get a room ready for you.”

“Alright, we’ll see you Wednesday then. Thanks, Jen.”