Unmentionables--Exclusive Taryll Jackson Erotica

To some degree, I believe all of us within the 3T fanbase admire, love, even lust, for the “Teez” from afar. Be it listening to their albums or watching their videos, or for the very privileged few, have the blessing of seeing them in concert. Wishes, dreams and fantasies about them may trickle into a fans subconscious from time to time. It is all quite harmless, an intense crush at the most. It was that idea which inspired my story. No, it's not about some loving fan following 3T around, but rather, and intense crush one of the "Teez" themselves harbors for a young woman...and what becomes of it.

"Unmentionables"

A Taryll Jackson Erotic Short Story By:

MJsLoveSlave

Los Angeles, California

Spring 2013

Stauffer's Avenue was a street which had created with a certain type of shopper in mind, the crème de la crème, the elite of the elite. The sort of person who never bothered their minds with any stressful thoughts beyond what could next be bought with a slice of the trust fund.

In the Closet was one such boutique, like all the high-end others around it, offering everything from expensive sports cars, rare and exquisite jewelry to overpriced, chi-chi cups of coffee.

Though the merchandise being peddled behind the revolving glass door, was as exorbitant as any, it's intent was to be seen by only a select few, if that many: In the Closet was a lingerie store.

While any store with a selection of panties, bras and the like would have considered themselves on par with conglomerate chains such as Victoria's Secret, In the Closet was in a league of its own.

Each piece of merchandise was handcrafted by skilled artisans with the very finest fabrics in the world. The skimpiest of pieces rang in at three and sometimes even four figures.

But in a bubble where money was no object these numbers mattered very little to the discerning, greedy eyes of the women—and men—who frequented the shop.

McKenna Jensen spent a copious amount of time in In the Closet, but it wasn't to search the racks for the next demi-bra or thong to bolster her self-esteem.

For the last several months, McKenna, fresh out of business school and a niece of the owner, had worked as “General Manager” of the store, a broad term that encapsulated her being the boss, sales clerk, fashion consultant and at times, the window dresser...

And on that bright, hot and still Thursday morning, McKenna lingered on the sidewalk out front of the shop, a hand to her chin, eyes squinted as she scrutinized the huge front window she had spent the last three hours arranging.

While the facade of the building was an austere grey granite with clear glass and touches of chrome, the display to be seen was full oh fanciful, frolicking life-like mannequins in a field of faux turf, all I in sheer, hardly there, candy colored underthings featuring silk bows and floral lace, bits and pieces contained to the merest extent of the word decency.

McKenna Jensen didn't know it, but she was being watched...and had been for quite some time.

Directly across the street from In the Closet was Perk, a coffeehouse typically overrun by hipsters and members of the jet set up too early to pop a bottle Cristal just yet.

With her back turned, McKenna was completely unaware of the man on the sidewalk opposite her, looking on, and inter,intermittently tipping the large, glaring orange cup bearing Perk's insignia to his lips, for long swigs of his 'Miami Vice'.

(Author's Note: A 'Miami Vice' is: 1/3 Americano coffee, 1/3 Cubano coffee, 1/3 hot water and sugar.)

A tall, strapping, thick-set man he was, his free hand shoved into the pocket of his dark-washed jeans, the nylon of the black, open hooded jacket he wore over a tee crinkling as he had another sip.

Eyes shielded, hidden, behind the dark lenses of aviator shades, were trained on McKenna and only McKenna.

Taking her slim figure of average height, always dressed in some variant of neutral colors, as seemed the policy for any one working at In the Closet. Today it was a curve hugging black pencil skirt, featuring a tiny bow over the walking slit, paired with a light grey oxford, it's collar popped, over which her hair, a medium brown with sun-kissed highlights, had been slicked back into a low, sleek ponytail, held by a piece of her own hair, braided and wrapped around the rest.

The toned calves of impossibly long legs flexed as McKenna shifted back and forth teetering in a pair of ombre stilettos that were at least six inches tall.

Having another sip, the man witnessed McKenna making a misstep, staggering before catching herself against the display glass.

Despite four lanes of moving traffic, and the prerequisite din of a metropolis like Los Angeles, McKenna's nervous laugh, a sweet, musical chiming sound, found the man's ears and his heart raced in his chest as he gulped the last of his sixteen-dollar wake up call.

Hand pressed to a healthy bosom, McKenna turned, still tittering at herself, revealing a pretty, heart-shaped face, bearing luminous eyes that were more blue than grey, in a face so classically beautiful, she belonged in a painting.

Gathering herself at last, that quickly, McKenna was gone, having passed back through the revolving door, vanishing from sight.

Tossing the empty cup into a waste bin, the man removed his shades, trimmed brows raising above intense hazel-brown eyes, and stared after her a moment, trying to summon courage within himself.

For over four months, he'd been pining for her, wanting desperately to speak to her, look at her, touch her.

Get to know her in every way.

He didn't even know her name!

Finding a rare lull in the usually busy traffic, the man was in motion, his feet, covered in black and red sneakers carrying him through the openings and pockets in luxury vehicles gliding by to the store.

To the woman he wanted...longed for..needed.

He went through the revolving door so quickly, the tips of his shiny black hair, arranged in a mass of waves atop his head, whipped back, before the generous application of pomade he used daily whipped it back into form.

And then...he was in the store.

A vast, pastel pink wonderland, smelling of cotton candy and vanilla, with underthings arranged by color, a veritable rainbow of panties, bras, waist-trainers, and garter belts as far as the eye could see.

In the center of the floor was the check-out stand, rising stark, white and lacquered, it was glaring against the colors surrounding it.

Alas, one thing the man did not see, was life.

Aside from himself, there wasn't a soul on the floor.

Where had his little beauty in business-casuals gone?

Had she been real, or merely a figment of his imagination...?

“Do you need assistance, Sir?”

At the sound of the soft, polite, saccharine voice, the man spun on his heel, stumbling himself.

Standing beside him, hands on her hips, was his little wonder woman.

For a moment, his mind failed him and the man could do was look on her.

Look at the pretty, interested face, noticing for the first time, the handful of freckles scattered across the bridge of her little nose, the tip tiny and upturned slightly.

Those blazing blue eyes, rimmed in black, making their color deeper and more vibrant. Her small, pink ribbon of a mouth, lips parted, showing a glittering, friendly, smile to him.

And pinned to the front of her blouse was a tag reading as “MCKENNA”.

McKenna! Her name was McKenna!

As the man was trying every which way to stop himself from breaking into song, so happy was he to be in her presence, McKenna was making her own assessment of her latest customer.

He was quite attractive to her...McKenna had always gone for the sorts of men who were strong and athletic in appearance, built much like this stranger. It didn't hurt he had an frankly avant-garde appearance, the light eyes, tanned complexion and oil-colored hair, he could have been any mix of any number of races and that ambiguity was intriguing to McKenna.

She liked who were a bit of a mystery.

There was something about the way he vaguely resembled a deer in the path of a speeding eighteen-wheeler that endeared him to her.

He, as most men when entering a world typically inhabited solely by women, appeared out of place, frightened, perhaps a bit on the nauseous side.

He did look so helpless, his hands clasped in front of him, shoulders hunched.

McKenna could have gone for him in a big way, but she had learned from experience, more than once, that when most men darkened the doors of In the Closet, they had other women on their minds.

But he did stare at her so queerly, a deep, intentional, unwavering stare as if he could see the depths of her very soul.

There was something unnerving about it.

“Sir? Do you need my help?”

She repeated herself, and blinking, whatever hold that had had the men, appeared to be released.

“Y-yes...I...I want to buy something for....for my girlfriend...”

The man stammered, his hands beginning to wring in front of him.

He did seem so nervous and without thought, McKenna laid a hand on his arm, her face remaining placid as she felt the muscle building beneath the sleeve.

Golly, he was so strong, but the man just mentioned he had a girlfriend...he was off limits.

“Do you have anything in particular you'd like to see?” She asked, admiring how the gold in his hair brought out the same flecks in his eyes, making them glow.

“No...not really...” The man stuttered, eyes dropping to the floor. “It was kind of an on the spot decision for me to come in here...”

No truer words had ever been uttered.

“Well, that's quite alright um...” McKenna glanced up at him again. He was so handsome in a soft, baby boy kind of way. “...what's your name? Maybe you'd be more at ease if we were on a first name basis.”

“My...my name's Taryll...” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“My name's McKenna.” She informed him of the obvious, before questioning. “What do you think your girlfriend would like? Something a bit more sexy, risque, or perhaps sweeter? Frilly and girly?”

“Um...”Taryll paused a moment, mind racing. “I...I guess more on the girly side. She's classy...very ladylike.”

McKenna touched at her chin a moment, deep in thought, mentally sorting through all of the merchandise that was in her charge.

“Have you a budget--”

“No.”

Taryll's voice, still low, came out forcefully, with him adding,

“I...I want the best merchandise you have to offer...please.”

McKenna regarded him a few spare seconds.

On the surface, Taryll didn't seem the type to splurge on the most expensive pieces carried in that part of the country, considering his extremely informal attire. There was nothing flashy to him. He wore plain Levis, and Nike sneakers. There was nothing flashy on him to hint at wealth.

And yet, in a place like Los Angeles, looks could be deceiving and she had seen billionaires who dressed as low-key as this Taryll.

You just never could tell.

“That would be our Czarina Collection, if you'll follow me...”

With a wave of her hand, McKenna was leading Taryll toward a grandiose, kokoshnik shaped display in the far corner of the floor.

And even from across the room, the light was dancing on and reflecting off of all the gems which had been affixed to each and ever precious item of lingerie.

Falling into her “sell it or die” mentality of a saleswoman, she indicated the underwear, declaring,

“Don't let the name fool you. This collection may be named Czarina, which lead some to believe the lingerie comes from Russia, but the brand itself is purely French, based in Nice. Everything you see before is handcrafted in the French countryside by trained masters. Every loop of lace, every stitch of the seams...all done by hand. And the gems you see are all, genuine Swarovski crystals...”

McKenna continued speaking, her glossy little mouth sharing the history and finer points of the Czarina Boudoir Couture Company, but for the most part, her speech was lost on Taryll.

So caught up was he, so entranced by her beauty, the tinkling lilt to her voice, the rare shade of blue of her eyes, she may as well have been reciting the Gettysburg Address to him.

How he wanted to touch her, to kiss her, hold her against him and never let go.

But Taryll had ideas....he had definite ideas.

Pausing, she lifted a whisper thin brassiere of eggshell-colored lace up, a large princess-cut crystal sparkling in the center of it.

“How does this strike you Taryll?” She inquired, making sure to lightly move the piece so that the stone caught the light time and again.

“That's....that's not quite it...” He managed, forcing himself to tear his eyes from that peachy, pretty little face and focus on the scraps of fabric suspended by hangers.

“Feel free to browse and take your time...” McKenna told him, the hangers clattering as he picking around the racks. “There's hardly ever any rush on a Thursday, so few people come in. You might be the only customer I see all day today. Most of the shopping happens over the weekend, as you can guess...”

McKenna had been chuckling, but stopped when she noticed her laugh wasn't being shared.

Looking a few feet over, she saw what now held Taryll's attention.

In his large hands, he was cradling a delicate baby-doll type top, crafted of sugar pink satin and floral lace dotted all over with teeny crystals making the fabric appear to have been covered with morning dew.

“I see something has caught your fancy...”

There was that tinkling laugh again as McKenna sidled up alongside him, peeking at the top.

“Yes...ahem...” Taryll became mildly as his dream girl was standing so closely to him, he could smell the Acqua di Gioa wafting from her cool, pale skin.

“I'd like to buy this...um--”

“What are your girlfriend's measurements?”

“Measurements?” Taryll echoed and that look of a deer in danger returned to his face.

“Yes...” McKenna chuckled. “I need to know her bra size for the top and her clothing size for the matching G-string...”

“Um....uh...”

This was an unexpected hitch which had not occurred to the lovestruck Taryll before he'd entered the boutique.

And then that angel, McKenna opened her mouth.

Holding her arms out, she questioned,

“Is your girlfriend about my size? Shorter, taller? Larger, slimmer?”

“She is about your size... same height too...” He gulped as McKenna went to digging through the racks.

“That would make the top a 38C and the bottoms... a size 8.” She commented, first producing the embellished lacy top and then the crystal adorned panties which were really nothing more than three strips of fabric sewn together with the jewels placed.

“Would you like to add anything? A robe? Slippers--”

“No, that'll be all...” Taryll interrupted her solemnly. “Just those two pieces, please.”

“Very well, then.” A bitter sting of disappointment was sticking the young woman as she started back to ring the ensemble up.

As strange as he had seemed, so quiet, removed and detached, McKenna couldn't ignore her attraction to him, as outlandish and outrageous as it seemed.

This man was here with his girlfriend on his mind.

He was buying the best of the best for her.

And here she was, wondering what it would be like to run her hands through his curls and stare off into his hazel eyes for a while. She did love men with hazel eyes!

And yet, he belonged to another. He was untouchable.

Still...she was going to hate terribly to see him go.

Boop! Boop!

“Your total come one thousand, seventy five dollars even...”

The total hadn't cleared McKenna's mouth properly, before a platinum credit cart was held out to her.

Taking it, McKenna noted Taryll's full name, embossed on the front: Taryll Adren Jackson.

His name was as exotic as he looked.

With a swipe the transaction took place, with the total being approved for removal from his account.

“Would you like your lingerie gift-wrapped?” She offered and was rebuffed with a shaking of the head.

“No, thank you.”

Within moments, the boudoir bits were wrapped in tissue paper and had been slipped into a lemon yellow bag with In the Closet inscribed on the front in white.

“Here you are, Taryll...” McKenna slid the bag across the counter to her. “... I hope your girlfriend will enjoy your present for her. It's very sweet. You have impeccable taste.”

“Thank you McKenna...” He was rocking back and forth unconsciously one hand on the bag, the other on the counter. “...you were a great help to me. Really, I appreciate it.”

“It's my job.” She shrugged, dipping her head at his praise.

The paper of the bag rattled as Taryll picked it up and turned, starting for the door.

McKenna watched him go, unable to look away from the spectacle that was his bountiful, bouncing backside, braced so beautifully in his jeans.

Parting was, indeed, such sweet sorrow.

Were those actual pangs of pain in her chest upon his departure?

He wasn't leaving.

McKenna looked curiously as Taryll remained inside of the store, by the exit..

His head was lowered, the yellow bag being crumpled slightly in his hands as his grip tightened on it.

Had he been struck by an abrupt wave of buyer's remorse?

McKenna had seen it time and again.

Surely, most people would think twice or three or four times, when they plunked down over a grand on what was essentially fancy tatters of cloth.

And every so often, one would come back begging on bended knee for a refund, stat!

Slowly, Taryll turned back towards her and out of pure reflex, McKenna reached down and retrieved the form needed in order to return his money.

“Can...can I ask you something, McKenna?”

He wondered, his voice mild, as he placed the bag back on the counter.

“Yes?”

Her heart did flutter as his light eyes peered off, unblinking, into hers.

“What I just bought...would a girl like you....would you wear it?”

“Why certainly.” McKenna smiled, absently picking at the tiny white gold hoop in her ear. “The Czarina Collection is the very finest of the fine. Any woman would be quite lucky to wear it.”

The bag was scooted towards her.

“I...I want you to have it.”

For a long while, McKenna stood, rooted to the spot, stunned.

“M...me?” She stammered, gripping the counter in an effort to remain upright. “...but...but what about your girlfriend? You bought this for her...why would I want something intended for another woman--”

“There is no other woman.”

Large hands were placed on the counter and Taryll peered intensely at her.

“This is no one else. There never was. It's....it's only been you.”

“Me?”

Legs finally failing her McKenna all but collapsed onto the low stool behind her, her head buzzing and her vision blurry.

Suddenly, behind the counter, Taryll was resting on his knees at her side, one of her small hands being gently kneaded and squeezed in his big ones.

Gazing down at the low, nude manicured nails tipping the hand, the whole tale began to unfold.

“I've been wanting to come in here and talk to you for over four months. Ever since I first saw you while I was I getting coffee at Perk. You....you...”

Her hand was mashed harder and while she should have been recoiling in pain, all McKenna could do was look at the glossy curls of Taryll's hanging head, her breath catching and sitting there like a lead brick in her bosom.

“You were outside, working on the window dressing, and you just looked so sweet and cute and I wanted to get to know but couldn't figure out how...”

Gripping her hand, he brought it to his smooth cheek, adding,

“I wasn't planning on coming in here today. I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew I was in here, and you were talking to me, and showing me things and I was just so happy to have your attention I didn't know what to do with myself, McKenna.”

His head popped up and all the raw, untethered emotion was as clear as the upturned nose in the center of his face.

“It wasn't until you rang me up and I was heading to the door that I realized I had to leave. I—I don't want to leave! I can't leave! I want to be with you! I want to know I can be with you! I hope i'm not here, making a Grade-A Ass of myself right now. For all I know, a girl as wonderful as you probably already has a man...”

Throwing his own self under the bus, Taryll made an odd gurgling noise and his head dropped again.

And with his head lowered, he couldn't see that McKenna was beaming at him.

“I don't have anybody...Taryll.”

She giggled, and watched at he seemed to inflate and expand all over.

“Do...do you want somebody?”

Timidly he looked to her and was greeted by a bright, glowing smile.

“Oh!”

Impulsively, he was kissing at her cheek.
Holding onto his hands, actually starting to shake, McKenna stood pulling him up along with her, so he towered over her.

Was he that excited?

“What time do you get off? I'd like to take you out someplace. Dinner? A movie? Anything--”

Taryll was cut off mid-sentence as McKenna's lips pressed flush against his.

The small, sweet-smelling body was crushed against him as her hands twisted the nylon on the front of the jacket, pulling him to her.

Taryll's arms found his way around her figure and hers around his.

Chills lit up and down McKenna's spine, causing her hair to stand on end when she felt one of those wide hands cupping her buttocks through her skirt.

“Wait, wait a minute...” Pulling back with a snort, McKenna put a finger to Taryll's lips, which were still in motion, with him proceeding to kiss her index finger a few seconds.

“My store is still open.”

Untangling herself from him, McKenna crossed the floor to a small beside the revolving door, where she removed a key ring and small sign.

Straightaway, an “Out to Lunch” sign was placed at the base of the display window and the heavy glass and chrome door was locked with a loud click.

Leaning against the glass, her hands tucked behind herself, McKenna observed Taryll.

He had moved to just outside of the checkout, thumbs hooked in the unused belt loops on his jeans.

His eyes were on her, his bottom lip receding as he chewed on it thoughtfully.

Hands on her trim hips, McKenna approached Taryll.

“You know, my office is in the back...”

She giggled, taking more pleasure than should have been allowed as Taryll's face darkened from bronze to burgundy, as his blood rushed to the dermis.

“Okay...” Understanding the situation was going from zero to about a million and a half in a second, Taryll laid a hand back on the yellow bag.

And McKenna laid a hand on his, announcing, luridly,

“If I take off what I have on right now, I'm not putting anything else on.”

Tightening her clutch on his hand, McKenna tugged, indicating Taryll follow her.

The bag of costly good remained on the counter, as the couple, hand in hand, started down the corridor towards the rear of the building.

At the very end of a long, dimly lit, stark white hallway, McKenna Jensen's office both coordinated with and clashed against the light, airy, Easter egg shades that dominated the showroom and facade of In the Closet.

While the office had been dressed in pale shades, lending to a pleasant and soothing atmosphere, the color scheme wasn't as abrupt as that which lay beyond the shut double doors. Instead, McKenna had hand-selected the shades of off-white and soft, sage green, pairing it with dark-wood furniture and plaid accents, such as the shade on her lamp and the several plump, overstuffed throw pillows lazily slung about on the two guest chairs opposite her desk and the chaise lounge taking up most of the back wall of the room.

And it was one of these plaid adornment, filled with eiderdown, that was being held over Taryll Jackson's lap....the only thing saving him from complete, whole and utter nudity.

Taryll was still and silent, perched upon one of the tufted, green seats, strong, tonged, furred legs crossed at the ankles.

His eyes, turning from hazel to a pure, emerald green in his surroundings, were on McKenna's back, as she took her own sweet time, carefully folding and stacking his clothing atop her desk.

Directly next to his pile, was her pile: the crisp blouse, the skirt with the little bow above the walking slit, and her gradient shoes.

She now wore scarcely more than him, by way of a light grey satin brassiere and matching, cheeky panties.

McKenna could feel his eyes on her and that had been per purpose when stopping to fold and put their clothing away neatly.

A part of her wanted to be admired.

He had done so, for so long...would another ten minutes really do that much harm?

She knew he'd like the curve of her shoulders, the nipping of her waist, the bottoms of her buttocks practically falling out of her underwear and her long, lean legs.

Peeking over her shoulder, she was amused to find his eyes slightly lowered, staring at her ass, his broad shoulders rising and falling as his breaths had become labored, a hand pressed to his chest, one of his small, brown nipples obscured.

Her head had barely turned forward, when she felt it.

The warm, damp, heaving breaths on the back of her neck.

She could feel him directly behind her, his girth, his warmness...

The cotton-like curls of his exposed pubis as he pressed himself against her.

His penis, still in a flaccid state, bumping against her thigh.

“Are...are you just going to shadow me...” McKenna teased slyly, running a fingertip along the edge of her desk. “...or—ooh!”

With no word of warning, Taryll's fist curled around the back strap of her bra and with a sharp yank, he was forcing her to back up towards the chair he had been resting on.

The chair sighed as he took his place again, hands falling onto McKenna's hips, positioning her in front of him, his legs spreading on either side of hers.

Again the strap on her bra was pulled a couple of times, before the three little hooks came loose.

With a flip, Taryll had tossed her ponytail over her shoulder.

McKenna snorted, tickled, as teeny pecks from Taryll's mouth traced the length of her spine.

With exacting slowness, the satin straps were slipped from her shoulders, the molded cups falling from her bosom, the foundation garment landing at her feet.

Voice deeper and somewhat frantic, Taryll ordered of her.

“Turn...turn around...”

It wasn't until that precise moment, that McKenna's heart began to pound.

Oh, yes she had a fair of idea of what was going to happen during her extended lunch break with Taryll, but it hadn't rung so clearly as it did the moment her eyes saw him naked.

How recklessly sexy he looked!

How tan and deep his complexion was...how green his eyes looked and stood out against his dark skin and darker hair.

His teeth were so pearly as he smiled, his tender, glossy lips parted.

His skin was so smooth, so decadent, with a freckle or two here and there.

His thickset, powerful form, the wide thighs supporting him, legs parted fron around the bush fanning off onto said thighs...

His manhood lay draped over his left thigh...

McKenna gave an audible gulp...her eyes swelling in awe.

No wonder he had be slightly hunched when walking around the store, if he had to carry that thing around with him at all times.

“God, you look so good to me...” Taryll inhaled deeply, his palms slipping down, taking her underwear with, leaving her bared in front of him.

“...better than I ever imagined, McKenna...Baby...”

His eyes met her for a fleeting interval of time before descending down over her round globes of flesh each bearing a fleshy pink areola, her flat tummy, and the slit with only a tiny, square of trimmed brown hair gracing it.

Looming over him, McKenna's hands gripped his strong shoulders her mouth coming down on his, seeming to taste his soul, hopes and dreams in a kiss so deep, they were one in that single action.

Hugging against him, one of her hands dropped down, wrapping around the meat springing from Taryll's loins and began to stroke it to full ripeness.

“Mmm...mmm...mmm...” Taryll whimpered into her ear. “More...more...you're gonna make me hard doing that...”

“Hmm...isn't that what you want?” McKenna chuckled, sucking after his hot, tender throat and swabbing after his earlobe with her tongue.

He did feel so good to her, so warm, so alive, and with each pass was growing ever stiffer in her hand.

Tasted so good to her...

Everything about Taryll was just so damn good.

“Yes...” His head fell back, McKenna attacking his face, licking after the ridge in the cleft of his chin.

“Please...Please. I can't wait any longer...I can't wait. McKenna....McKenna, Sugar, please!”

Thinking Taryll wanted to stretch his fabulous form on the chaise, she started to move towards it and stopped when she felt Taryll's hand clamp down on her wrist with such a ferocity, the joint popped.

“Ow—Taryll!” McKenna gasped as she was pulled back to him at the chair.

Her wrist shone bright red when he released her.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

His hands slapped his haired thighs and her head cocked to the side.

He wanted to do...IT...on the chair?

Running her hands through his curls, she snickered,

“You're a little freaky thing, aren't you?”

His eyes sparkled,

“You bring it out of me. Now jump on me, before I let it go all over the walls instead.”

Smooching his wide forehead, McKenna conceded,

“You're the boss...”

* * *

“...Ugh! Ugh! Ugh...!”

“Oh, girl! Oh...oh shit! Yes, girl! Work me...grind me. Grind it!”

Taryll and McKenna were but a ball of live, wild, and perspiring flesh, testing the very limits of the tufted chair creaking and doing its best to support an in which it had not been constructed for.

McKenna clung to Taryll, her arms wrapping his long, wet throat, his hands in a death grip on her buttocks,guiding her up and down, up and down, over and over again on that impossibly large mass stretching the poor girl to her limits.

Slipping in and out of her, reaching deeper than any man ever had before, connecting McKenna to Taryll in a way she had never fathomed even existed.

SMACK!

McKenna winced, taking a direct slap to her right ass cheek!

“Ugh! Yes! Ride me! Ride me, girl! Aw...Fuck me...!”

Taryll huffed , his hands running up and down her back.

At once her ponytail was in his hand, pulling her head back, his face being buries into her throat, sucking fiercely, and leaving multiple hickies in his wake.

“Oh! Oh! Oh—Taryll! Oh! OH! OH! OH!”

McKenna wailed as Taryll bent forward, in turn bending her backward, throwing his hips , his hands on her waist holding her steady.

“Look at you...look at those titties...I'm making those titties bounce...Oh Lord...!”

His face was scarlet, droplets of sweat falling from his forehead, splashing her abdomen.

“Ah! Taryll! Ta-Ta-Taryll! Ah!”

McKenna cried shrilly , as Taryll put his hand in the middle of the back, uprighting them.

It was then she realized Taryll was standing up...while still holding her.

“Oh my God!” She gasped and cinched her legs around his waist, hugging tighter than ever as Taryll's took a cheek in each hand and slammed her into him.

Again... and again...and again.

“Hell yeah! Hell yeah! Hell yeah!”

Veins were popping out of his forehead and his neck, all the while he was taking a burgundy cast all over.

The next thing she knew, McKenna was bracing against the front of her desk, all the trinkets on it rattling, Taryll plowing into her from behind.

“You're so damn perfect!”

Taryll groaned into her ear, bearing down on her, pulling the elastic from her hair, her highlighted tresses falling over and clinging to her wet shoulders.

His hands found their way onto her breasts, fondling her, his weight on her back increasing.

His groin was flapping into her with incredible speed to the point McKenna became speechless, her mouth open, but no sound coming out.

“Oh God... Oh...Aw... AW...M-M-McKenna...!”

Taryll stammered, and with a shudder, her wrapped his arms around her , his forehead falling onto her shoulder.

“DAMN!”

He thrust one last time, holding onto her, both wheezing hoarsely.

He...he was climaxing inside her, McKenna feeling his warm moisture rich love shooting in her deeper recesses, but she made no moves to get away from him.

There was something to protective, so comforting, so pure and true about their embrace.

As naughty as they had been, McKenna felt something special.

And then Taryll called it by name.

“I...I love you McKenna...”

Love... that's what it was... this wondrous, monumental feeling.

Love.

Twisting to look at Taryll, rosy-cheeked, covered from tip to toe in sweat she patted at his cheek.

“I love you, too...”

* * *

“...kind of a crazy afternoon, huh, Sweetie?”

Taryll asked, draping an arm around McKenna's shoulders as they turned the corner of the building , headed for the parking behind In the Closet.

“I don't think the word to describe what happened today hasn't yet been invented.” McKenna snickered and Taryll chuckled.

Reaching the lot, only two cars remained—McKenna's small silver Prius, and a larger, white Land Rover.

“So...where do we go from here?” Taryll wondered as they reached the Prius, with McKenna digging for her key in the small clutch under her arm.

“I don't know” The door was unlatched, buy remained shut, McKenna staring down at the handle.

“Where do you want to go?”

Taryll's chest bumped her shoulder he got so near her.

“Home...I'd like to go home with you.” He stated seriously.

“Or I could take you to my home. I don't care, as long as I can look up and see you there.”

“I live in the Valley...where do you live?” McKenna glanced up at him, his face serious and set.

“The Hills, but the Valley sounds nice. Let's go there.”

A hand was extended and reluctantly, McKenna dropped her keys into it.

“Is the Land Rover yours?” She asked as Taryll slipped into the driver's seat of the Prius and leaned over, opening the passenger door for her.

“Yes, don't worry. I'll have one of my brothers come and get it for me.” Taryll shrugged, looking up at her.

“You've got brothers?”

“Yeah...come on, get in. Maybe over the ride to your place we can figure out what else we have in common besides two bodies made to fit together!”

Laughing, McKenna jogged around and hooped in beside him, wrapping herself around his bulging arm and taking the small yellow bag from, dropping it to the floor.

Backing out, McKenna had no idea where her relationship with Taryll would progress from there, but if it were anything like the love they had made, everything would be just perfect.

Yes...perfect.