Trivial Pursuits Ch. 20

Dear Readers,

To those of you who have chosen to return, thank you and I hope the wait has been worth it. For those of you interested, I have taken the time to respond to feedback from the last chapter at the end of this one, but you are by no means obligated to read. I thank everyone for their support, and as always, a great big thanks to AlreadyTaken and the time and effort she gives to edit and give a little advice. You're the best.

Enjoy,

Titania

******

CHAPTER TWENTY

"She's got broken things
Where her heart should be
But I can tell there are moments
When I'm really getting through
Make my voice brand new
I give it all to you
And I'll never speak again."
"You're Dead Wrong" Mayday Parade

Denny looked down at his wrist watch and sighed, knowing full-well that it had been clearly understood they were to leave at five o'clock on the dot. And yet it was already five-twenty, and no IM from Alessa that she was ready to leave. He gave a morose, half-smile; Alessa was just like every other woman who kept you waiting, except in her case it was because she could never leave her work, and not because she was busy primping. He decided to nudge her.

Alessa was typing furiously when her interoffice communication chimed at her. An instant message from d.ashbury.

Well?

The right side of Alessa's mouth scrunched into a half-frown as the inner corners of her brows drew down together. She had been absorbed in writing her first corporate bylaws for one of the senior partners, but every time her mind had risen above her work to survey the multitude of thoughts that drifted in the landscape of her mind, she had been confronted with the only fact of any importance: today she would meet Denny's parents. And that disquieting truth alone was enough to make her plunge back fully into her work, as if by means of her enthusiasm for it, it would absorb her and insulate her from reality of Thanksgiving.

But now, even in the one word digitally written on her computer screen, she could feel Denny's growing annoyance with her lateness. And whether he knew the delay was by neglect or purposeful, his disapproval was evident all the same.

She sighed, knowing she couldn't put it off any longer.

Give me five and I'll be ready.

Denny nodded once at his computer screen, now having her word he planned on holding her to it. He gathered up the files he would need while away, cleared his desk of the debris of a work-day, and closed everything down.

Alessa looked up as his advancing figure entered her periphery. He was striding to her confidently, his work bag slung across his shoulder, and she knew there was no more time. She hit save on the file she had been typing and closed the computer up. She had it stuffed in her own bag by the time Denny was standing next to her.

She looked up at him in annoyance. "You shouldn't be standing here," she remarked tersely, alluding to the fact that their relationship was still a secret to the office.

Denny only cocked an eyebrow up at her, not misdirected by her statement. He knew perfectly well that she was irked because he wasn't allowing her to escape the inevitable, but forcing her to experience the universally nerve-racking 'meeting-of-the-parents.'

"Come on, Sweetheart, let's go. The traffic is going to be murder as it is."

Alessa didn't continue the façade that she was uncomfortable with being seen with him in the office, instead she went through her nightly ritual of straightening her area, finishing with a finalizing switch-off of the desk lamp. They walked silently to the elevator, and in fifteen minutes were queuing for the onramp for I-80 East. The traffic across the Bay Bridge was even more congested than normal on that Tuesday afternoon, and as they eked along the highway toward the bridge, Alessa couldn't keep her nervousness in check.

"So, your family-who all will be there?" Her fingers were tugging at the short hem of her dress. Denny had felt instantly aroused when he saw her that morning, dressed in the dark gray sweater dress that stopped high on her thigh. The rest of her legs were tastefully and alluringly covered in mid-thigh-high suede boots the rich color of an eggplant. Only an inch or two of skin on her toned thighs peeked out between the two pieces of her wardrobe.

"My grandparents. My mom's parents," he clarified. "My uncle and his wife and their daughter and her husband. Kat's pregnant, the family's first grandchild, so everyone's excited."

Alessa was silent as she thought about that a moment. "But it isn't your parents' grandchild. It's your uncle's."

Denny smiled, perhaps sadly, but nodded.

"And I guess you don't have any brothers or sisters since you never talked about them. Actually," she gave in a chuckle of surprise, "if you hadn't told me, I'd be rather mad at you," she confessed with a grin.

"No, my mom had been pregnant a few times, but she always lost the baby. I'm all there is."

"I'm sorry for her," Alessa said in condolences, but then when Denny looked at her with an expression of injured disbelief, she laughed and covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Only to say I'm sorry for her losses, not to imply you're some sort of inadequate son." She reached over and stroked his arm.

He nodded in acceptance, a playful smirk on his lips. When he looked over at her, the last of the day's light illuminated just enough of her face to reveal a sweet thoughtfulness there.

"In fact, you're like me. Our moms were lucky to have us," she offered, referring to his words that felt like an eon ago.

But then a shadow of some darker, unhappier thought clouded her eyes and her smile faded. Alessa looked ahead of them, turning her attention to things that were unseen and far, far from their slow moving car. As they travelled north, Denny regaled her with tales of his family while Alessa listened with only half of her mind. The other half was occupied with the work of untangling that creeping, reoccurring sensation of guilt whenever she felt happiness with Denny.

At some point, when the traffic had lightened up enough that he could pay less attention to the cars around him and free one hand from the steering wheel, he reached over and began stroking the small band of skin that was visible between her dress and boots. The caresses at first were soothing, as his mindless touches often were, but it was somewhere an hour and half north of The Bay, in the dark of early evening, that his fingertips slid higher and higher on her thigh, pushing the sweatered fabric up.

It only took a small adjustment of her hips to feel just how aroused he had already made her. And then his wandering hand was at her crotch, the lightest of touches petting the silky material covering her.

"Denny, what are you doing?" she asked.

He didn't take his eyes off the road, but from the faint glow of the dashboard, she could see the side of his lip twitch up. "What does it feel like?"

"We can't do this. We're about to see your parents," she scolded incredulously.

"Sweetheart, we're nearly two hours away from my parents' house. We have plenty of time."

"Is this all you can think about?" she asked tersely. But her venom lost a little of its power when her thighs splayed ever so much wider to allow more of his touch.

Knowing he had won her over, more with his touch than his words, Denny said, "Say you'll be bad for me."

Alessa's stomach felt like a storm. "What does that entail?"

"What can you think of?" he challenged darkly.

And then he pulled his hand away. Alessa looked over at him, waiting for him to carry on, but he clearly had no such intentions. At first she began to fume. Why would he get her started only to cruelly abandon her? He was such a tease! And then she realized he must have wanted to get her started, to arouse her and then let her do as he asked: be bad for him.

Alessa had several ideas, and in the end decided to make him so painfully hard from sounds, smells, and possibly sights of her being very bad. After all, what was worse than your partner getting themselves off and not doing the same for you?

With that very bad thought in place, Alessa reached around to the side of her seat to recline it back a little more. Then she opened her legs as much as she could manage in the tight space of the car. The bottom edge of her dress was still bunched up near the top of her thighs, and there wasn't any difficulty to slide her fingers up her thigh and delve under her panties.

She moaned as her fingers ran through the wetness already spilling out onto her outer lips. "I'm so wet," she admitted. She was laying back watching him, expecting him to whip his head around to focus on her after her highly wicked and provocative statement. But the slow, predatory turn of his gaze toward her, his profile illuminated by the red glow of the dashboard, was far more satisfying a response, causing her breath to catch and burn inside her.

In the quiet hush of the luxury car, with Denny's proprietary gaze taking her in despite being blanketed in the dark of the night, Alessa began to stroke her slickened flesh. At first, it was only a touch of greeting, only to evenly spread the wetness of her arousal, to test the tenderness of her yearning flesh. And for a few minutes, the only sounds in the dark were the occasional moan or unexpected, delicate grunt.

Feeling aroused enough to continue on, she began focusing on the excited little nub, the world of pleasure compressed down into just that tiny bit of turgid flesh. She slowly circled it, then mashed down, then circled, then pinched. She took the occasional dip down into her vagina, sliding her slender fingers up to rub against that hot, hidden zone, but she never stayed long. Alessa had never been able to make much out of that place, admitting only Denny seemed to be able to find how to stroke her correctly to unlock the great heat contained there. But still, it was a dull pleasure that made for a nice break from her clit whenever it became too stimulated.

"Denny," she breathed. "I'm going to come," she admitted when she could feel the end nearing. "Would you like that? Would you—" her breath caught as a tremor seized through her body. She was biting her bottom lip, hoping to keep in the moan so desperate to escape from her throat. "Would you like for me to come?"

Headlights of cars that Denny was swiftly passing pulsed outside her window as they sped down the highway, illuminating the inside of their dark world for a heartbeat, and then they were gone. Her breathing was coming in pants, and pleasure like thunder rolled through her as she teased her body toward release.

"Yes," Denny growled. "Come for me. Let it go and come for me."

Despite her wish that his hands were somehow on her, they never dropped from the steering wheel, leaving her responsible for producing the stimulation her body needed. She began focusing again on her sensitive, electric little clit, now determined to do as he instructed. The sound of her wet sex being vigorously handled, as well as its overwhelming musky aroma filled the car, threading through them, sewing them together in the dark. As she drew closer and closer, the pleasure flooding her body, she began moaning his name, telling him she was a bad girl for only him, only him.

And then she convulsed with a desperate moan vibrating on her lips, her fingers clutching at her quaking sex, pressing into herself as if she did not hang on hard enough she would slip from all sensation. She hadn't quite worked up the harsh panting that typically accompanied their couplings, but the electric euphoria was still there, to claim her, to bathe her, to fill her with a hunger for more.

When she felt something akin to normality return to her thinking, she turned to him and watched him wordlessly as his two hands drove them on through the darkness. When the leather beneath her body creaked dully, Denny's eyes shifted over her direction, though he didn't turn his head. He attempted to steel himself as he felt the warmth of her body enclose the right side of his. And then her mouth was at his ear, her sweet breath hitting his neck. He could feel how close she was without actually touching her. Her lips were only separated from his skin by the thickness of her breath. And then she was moving. Down. And down. And down, readjusting her position in her own seat so that she could lean over the console separating them.

Denny was already achingly hard after listening to her self-administered sexual release, but the obvious position she was now putting herself in made his cock strain against his slacks painfully. "And just what are you doing, Sweetheart?" he questioned in a rough voice he thought he had control over.

"Why, being bad for you. Just like you asked," she replied slowly, not bothering to look up at him in the dark. And then her hands were on his button, and the sound of the zipper very clearly stated what he was about to receive.

Even in the dark and in the slightly uncomfortable position, Alessa adroitly maneuvered the springing shaft free of any restraint. She smiled softly when she felt how turgid he was, and all from just listening to her come. She was gentle in the beginning, stroking him and placing wet kisses along his length. Denny's hand had dropped to the back of her head, his fingers submerging into the luxurious strands and stroking her scalp affectionately.

Pleased with the amount of thick liquid now beaded at the tip of his length, she rubbed her thumb through it, spreading it around. And then she engulfed the sensitive crown in her mouth. The fingers threaded through her hair fisted tightly for a moment, then relaxed, returning to their petting motion. She proceeded with her task, a hand joining in the action to help stroke and squeeze him from the base up to her lips.

After several minutes of precursory exploration, Alessa developed a more purposeful rhythm, at first slow and then building with speed. Her hand was immensely helpful in supplying much needed pressure, especially when they squeezed his heavy sac. Denny had wisely slowed their speed to that of all the other cars on the road and set the cruise. Though his eyes never left the road, he fought hard to keep his attention there.

The split in his focus was costing him, and eventually Alessa pulled off to ask, "Are you going to come in my mouth?"

Denny, pent-up and wired tight, groaned. He then chuckled hoarsely in reply, "I'm not sure I can keep us on the road, Sweetheart."

Alessa sat up to whisper in his ear, "But I thought you wanted to be bad with me. I'm willing to risk it if you are."

"Fuck's sake," he roughly exhaled.

Alessa smiled, knowing if she doubled her efforts he couldn't withstand her. She resumed her position down in his lap and returned with renewed vigor, pulling tightly with her mouth. Denny was panting hard, moaning every few seconds as she hit nerve after nerve, and increased the pressure within his balls exponentially.

"Sweetheart," he managed to get out in warning, before growling loudly, his eyes trained on the road as he felt his body tighten in a rapturous spasm. It was the greatest torture he had ever experienced to be flooded with the deranging pleasure and yet forced to stay completely focused and in control, not giving himself over to delirium.

When she had milked the last drop from him, cleaning him lovingly, he felt a small wave threaten to make him blackout, but with deep breaths was able to give at least a modicum amount of attention to the road and kept them steady on course.

Alessa sat up at last, panting a little herself, but a slow, devastating smile lingered on her lips as she observed his pensive state. Both hands white knuckled the steering wheel and his eyes were trained hard on the road. She couldn't help but tease him in hopes of making his wall of steel crack, if only a little.

"I'll be bad for you any time you want," she whispered in his ear and then kissed the sensitive spot just below it, before returning to her own seat and settling back.

Without warning, Denny reached out for her hand, and grasping it brought it up to his mouth to place a fierce, full-lip kiss there.

The rest of the drive was mainly quiet, with sporadic discussion of what they would be doing for the remainder of the week there. When he suggested he take her horseback riding, she giggled.

"You know how to ride horses?"

Denny smiled. "I grew up on a ranch. I thought that would have been obvious."

"I don't know," she said with a smile and doubt in her voice. "You're a pretty slick cat, what with your suspenders and high-rise condo and posh car and manicured nails. I wouldn't have thought 'dude,' you know?"

He only smiled. "Yeah, but all that is simply a manifestation of the context of my current life, what my job dictates. Riding horses, bucking hay, cutting a calf from the herd, that's all simply a manifestation of context of living on a ranch. You go with what your environment dictates, I suppose."

Alessa was quiet as she thought about that. It was just before nine when Denny pulled off the two lane road onto a well-lit drive. Alessa sat up a little straighter as she took in all there was to see in the dark. They drove under a large, black wrought-iron archway. The open gate was made of a sleek combination of both wood and wrought-iron. The fence it was attached to was a long stone wall that ran either way off into the dark beyond the lights that illuminated the drive.

Down the long drive, Alessa could make out a house by its strategically placed outdoor lighting. From what she could see, it was two stories and sprawling. Denny parked in the circular drive in front. While he got out to get their bags from the trunk, Alessa sat in her seat looking up at the house. It wasn't the style and size that suggested money that gave her pause, but the daunting fact that his family was contained inside, and in just a few short minutes, she would be meeting them.

Denny had come around to her door and opened it for her, surprised she hadn't yet gotten out. But when he saw her wide-eyed, hesitant expression, he smiled softly at her, pulling her out of the car to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"They'll love you, Sweetheart. Trust me. And not to be mean, but they're not a nightmare like your family. Okay? So just relax and be your sweet self."

She harrumphed at that. "I didn't know I was sweet."

Denny had a squinted, thoughtful look. "Well, charming at least."

Just then, one of the large double doors opened, and the empty space was suddenly filled with people.

"Denny!" a warm female voice called.

Alessa turned to watch a brunette with long curly hair descend the front stairs quickly, a wide smile on her face.

"Hi, Mom," Denny greeted with equal emotion, turning from Alessa to open his arms and hug his mother.

"I'm so glad you made it. It's been ages since you've been up," she scolded, still locked in his embrace.

Pulling away, he sighed with a smile. "Well, work has kept me pretty busy."

She was still smiling up at him, but slid her eyes to Alessa as she said, "Among other things. Hi there, I'm Pima. It is so nice to finally meet you." And in a surprise move, wrapped her arms around the newcomer, squeezing her tightly; sincerely.

Alessa was startled at first, but awkwardly returned the embrace until another voice cut in. "Denny, you made it. And good time, too?"

"Traffic was awful. As always. Hi, Dad," he said as he hugged his father.

Alessa had finally managed to escape Pima's arms, but not entirely as the older woman stood next to her with a hand around her waist. Next, it was his father's turn for introductions.

"Dad, this is Alessa. Alessa, this is my pops, Hollis."