The Healing of Adam Cross

Author's Note: This story is an original work of fiction, the second in a series of stories expected to include several parts; it is recommended the reader first reads Part 01. Future additional spin-off stories starring some or all of these characters might also be forthcoming based upon response and demand. Certain characters featured herein may also be found in other works by the authors. Feedback is desired and greatly appreciated. Email comments to the address in our profile. Thank you for reading.

Copyright 2011 by Jack and Josephine Cutter.

This story stars: Adam Cross, Holli Coverton, and Tiffany McCullough, and features Trent McCullough, Dave Cartwright, Benjamin Lane, Kelsey Cartwright, Heather James, Josie Haynes, Michelle Johnson, and Jessica Barnes.

This story contains: male-female erotic coupling, fellatio, cunnilingus, analingus, light bondage, trickery, infidelity, revenge fucking, male domination, public restrooms, a pseudo-threesome, arrogant pricks, pissed off wives, and significant decisions.

This story begins post-prologue on Monday, October 03.

* * * * *

One of his earliest memories of her was at the beach, just after they met. They were both young and frivolous, and her bikini had been small and bright and conspicuous, and she loved the attention she received. She was always one to own the spotlight, though never haughtily or with conceit; she loved to make people laugh and to entertain, and he loved her for that reason, and many others.

On that day, they lounged in the hot sun and splashed through cold ocean water, and laughed and enjoyed their togetherness, and later, much later, as the moon drifted overhead and blankets kept them warm from the chilly sea breeze, they made love so leisurely and tenderly that it took nearly an hour for him to climax, but the pleasurable interim would remain, looking back, one of the best instances of his life, the hour he spent inside her.

He would cherish that memory the rest of his days.

Chapter 03: Bait and Switch

It was a beautiful, sunny day at the beach.

The warm rays of the midday sun beat down upon her body in a delightfully sizzling way, further coloring her already golden brown skin. She lay on her back on an oversized towel spread out upon the sand, perhaps some thirty yards from the surf, close enough to feel the occasional wind-carried ocean spray and salty sea breeze, far enough to remain blissfully dry.

She had not moved in nearly an hour, but when the flesh of her bottom vibrated, Michelle Johnson sat up and reached down under to where her cell phone was hidden beneath her rump, and looked at the screen. Her girlfriend was calling, which cheered her greatly, and so she answered it with a playful, "Hey, sweetie."

The responding voice was at once breathlessly excited and gravely serious. Michelle listened intently as the situation was explained, the details given, and the machinations described, and at the end, she found she had only one request.

"Fine, sweetie," she said, with infinite patience and understanding, and more than a little surety of self, "you do what feels right. I'll have some for myself, however, and very soon. Agreed?"

Satisfied with the response, Michelle gave her goodbye and returned to her leisurely position, this time rolling to her stomach. She reached back and plucked at the strings of her bikini, hoping to engender an all-over tan. The sun was out in force and she had the day off from work, and she planned to spend the whole of it sunning and surfing.

And being one of sweet disposition herself, she wished her girlfriend well on her little adventure.

* * *

In the months since Jocelyn died, Adam Cross had launched himself into his work with ridiculous fervor. He was currently in the process of writing four investigative news pieces for the paper, not to mention an active consultant for the "breaking news" desk. His work kept him busy and keeping busy kept his mind off Jocelyn.

He could now add another item to his short list of distractions: the memory of his weekend.

He still could not believe his incredible stroke of fortune in meeting the beautiful Holli. Not only was she gorgeous, sexually adventurous, and willing, she was also attached to another woman, which meant there would be no romantic entanglements. It was the perfect situation for them both: he got back into the saddle, felt connected to someone again sexually, and had a fun, no-strings-attached experience, while she got to enjoy the pleasures of a man again, something she very much wanted, but had not done in over two years.

And it would not be their last time.

In fact, Adam thought with a grin as he sat at his desk, he was in store for some special things in the coming weeks and months; Holli had intimated she would likely want to bring Adam back for Michelle, a novice when it came to live men, to sample. Holli and her lover, fortuitously and coincidentally, lived in Los Angeles, not Las Vegas.

Which is why Adam felt his hopes lift when his phone rang Monday afternoon. The two had exchanged numbers after their Saturday night rendezvous with promises to get in touch back in LA, and while it was a little sooner than he expected, he had not complaints at all; he was thrilled, actually.

"Hello?" Adam asked when he answered.

"Hi, Adam," a sexy feminine voice chirped, with just the faintest touch of apprehension, "it's Holli, from this weekend?"

Adam felt his spirits lift and a smile broke out over his face. "Hi, Holli," he said, "I'm so glad you called. I wanted to thank you for such a wonderful night last weekend."

The woman giggled. "Thank yourself, Adam, you were incredible. I don't think I've ever felt so happy and relaxed with a man before." She quieted for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was lower and very conspiratory. "In fact, I'd really like to see you again, if possible."

He hoped she would say that, even expected it to some degree, but hearing her say the words still surprised him. Delighted him, but surprised him. "I'd love to, Holli. What did Michelle say?"

"She gave me the total thumbs up. Would you like to come over to my place for dinner tonight? I live in Marina Del Rey, not too far from the docks."

Adam could feel the goofiness of the grin on his face, much like the cat getting the cream. "Love to," he said, and fought to contain himself: the rest of the day was looking up, indeed.

* * *

Holli lived on the tenth floor of a luxurious condominium complex overlooking the marina. There was a valet at the circular drive-up and two guards seated behind a desk in the sleek entrance area.

"Good evening, sir," the guard said. "Whom are you visiting this evening?"

"Holli Coverton," Adam replied as he signed in at the desk. "Suite Ten-Forty-Two."

The guards exchanged a skeptical glance, then turned back to appraise him. Adam wondered how many men came calling on a place shared by two long-term, romantically involved females, and by the guards' reaction, it was likely not many.

"Wait here a moment," the man on the left said, not with hostility, but not particularly warmly either. He picked up his phone, punched in four numbers, and waited. "Miss Holli? It's Martin at the front desk. There's a man here to . . . yes, ma'am."

The man set the phone down and smiled, and this time there

was

warmth. "Sorry about that, sir. The elevator is around the corner."

Adam chuckled. "I completely understand, my man. Have a good one."

And so Adam found himself a short time later standing before the door of Holli Coverton's condo, eager once more to see the beautiful brunette, forever-and-a-day away from anything he could have imagined when she first sauntered out into the penthouse living room in Vegas. He knocked, and after several moments, she answered.

Michelle was a very lucky woman: Holli was an absolute knock-out.

In her own element, without the stripper make-up, flashy clothes, and Vegas vibe, she was amazingly even more lovely than before, long and willowy with flowing chestnut hair that absolutely cascaded from her head. She wore a knee-high dress, simple and elegant, and colored to match her bright blue eyes. Her smile sparkled and those eyes flashed, and she stepped forward to embrace him warmly.

"Hello, Adam," she breathed inside his arms. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," he replied with a smile of his own, inhaling the sweetness of her scent.

Holli took his hand gently and led him into the main room of the condo. He noticed a framed photograph on the wall featuring Holli and another woman, a gorgeous blonde, at the beach. "Is this Michelle?" he asked. "She's stunning."

"Thank you," Holli said. "Stunning, yes, and the most wonderful person in the world, too. Would you like something to drink?"

It seemed like a wine kind of night and Holli was happy he suggested it, and soon after that they were sitting on her oversized couch, sipping their respective glasses, slipping once more into the easy sort of conversation they shared in Vegas.

"The rest of the trip was fine," Adam was saying, "a little long, but decently enjoyable, although the night with you made it a weekend I'm unlikely to ever forget."

Holli giggled. "Sorry, I totally feel the same way, but I laugh every time I think about the next morning."

Adam chuckled himself at the memory: escorting her out of the suite that next morning, the morning after their night of unexpected passion, the two had discovered a veritable fraternity-esque scene of drunken debauchery. Five fully naked bodies had been passed out on the floor, as Dave, Trent, Ben, Mandy, and Kara were still sleeping off the effects of their own night of intense fucking. Holli had been the one, with girlish squeals, to point out the dried cum caking the skin of the girls in several places, and that barely scratched the surface of what they found; it had been one of the most remarkable scenes Adam had ever witnessed.

"Ridiculous," was what he said then, and how he categorized it now.

They laughed, and then quieted, and Holli looked at him sidelong and asked, not unsurprisingly, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, or that I don't overstep my bounds, but they don't really seem like the kinds of men you would run around with."

Adam met her gaze. "Honestly? I'm friendly with them, but I wouldn't really call us friends."

She nodded, and accepted his word."Why do you think married men do those kinds of things? The other men were married, right? And one is getting married soon? Why do they act like that?"

They were getting into deep waters, but Adam did not mind. "I don't know," he said simply. "It was never my way, but many men act as they choose in the moment, regardless of others. The men I was with . . . well, let's just say that despite some good qualities—and they do have some good qualities—in some areas they leave a lot to be desired."

Holli probed further. "What would their wives do if they found out?"

Adam shrugged. "Who knows," he said, and was ready to say more before he stopped himself.

He considered the women who were Jocelyn's closest friends. He knew them, some more than others but all very well, from both personal experience and from all the little things Jocelyn had told him over the years, which was quite a bit, and he suddenly realized exactly what they would do if they knew how their men behaved.

Holli read the change on his face. "And?" she asked with a hint of amusement.

Adam grinned sheepishly. "Nothing, it's just that, thinking about it, I know exactly what those women would do. I actually know some of their wives better than I know the men. They would not get mad, they'd get even. They're good women and they've been very kind and good to me, and they're all very sharp, very smart women, but they are also extremely uninhibited. They'd probably go out and screw five times as many men as the number of women they knew their husbands were sleeping with."

Holli studied him then for a long moment. "You're a good man, Adam Cross," she said finally, "you know that? If Michelle weren't around, my preference for ladies would be in serious jeopardy." She blushed and glanced down at her drink. "And thank you for being so gentlemanly last weekend. It is a rare thing to find that kind of respect in that business."

Adam felt his own cheeks go red at the compliment, which seemed so much

more

than some of the others she'd bestowed. "I was just acting the way I felt was right," he admitted.

"That's why I like you so much," she replied, and then grinned. "And why I want to fuck your brains out again tonight!" His eyes bulged and she laughed. "Come on, dinner is almost ready."

Holli proved herself a phenomenal chef: the food was delicious, an old family recipe for honeyed chicken passed down three generations. The conversation was equally thrilling, and over the course of the night Adam came to know beyond doubt that Holli would swiftly become a very good friend of his, whether sex was involved or not.

After dinner, they returned to the couch for more wine and relaxation, but the calm of the night would not last long; Adam could feel the heat of anticipation rising in the room. The memory of their last night together coupled with a stream of sassy commentary, combined again with the warmth created by the wine, and Adam found his ability to think straight severely compromised.

That is, he found he could think of little but for the memory of her exquisite breasts.

He looked up from his empty wine glass to find her gazing at him inquisitively, as a knowing grin crept onto her face. "Would you mind if I come a little closer?" she asked.

"Not at all," he replied, and suddenly he was filled again with the sweet scent of the woman as she crawled into his lap. She leaned in, blue eyes twinkling, and pressed her lips to his.

She gasped as their tongues touched and his arms wrapped around her slender form, and her fingers came up through his hair to cup his head in her palms. The kissing session was long and leisurely as they licked and kissed and nuzzled one another, and held each other tight; they had both been so frenzied and nervous during their last encounter, it was nice to feel comfortable, go slow, and revel in the sensations. For Adam, it was nice to enjoy the unrushed feel of a woman again, while Holli enjoyed the strong arms of a man.

Adam's hands slid down from her shoulder blades to curl under the cheeks of her rump, still above the dress. He squeezed gently and she giggled into his mouth.

She pulled back. "May I?" she asked, one eyebrow arched impishly, and he nodded despite not knowing what she was asking.

Which is why he groaned with surprise and anticipation when she pressed into him and slithered down, dragging her lusciously plump, still clothed breasts over the length of his body before settling between his legs with her knees on the floor. She grinned coyly up at him as she fished inside his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping, to draw his very hard erection out of its confines.

"I did not get to do this long enough last time," she told him, "and sucking cock is something I have greatly missed. You shall be the lucky beneficiary."

His breath caught in his throat. Her words were gloriously naughty, and the way her lovely face hovered over his penis and her tongue slipped across her bottom lip—itching to taste him—were incredible sights to behold. He burned them into his memory.

Holli leaned in and drew the flat of her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip, and he sighed heavily and shivered. Almost casually, the woman took him into her mouth and down her throat, descending further and further until the whole of him was down and his tip was tickling her tonsils—seven inches, one shot.

It was incredible and Adam very nearly came right there, and then again when the muscles of her tongue and throat massaged the invading meat. She was exceptionally good—which was a crime if he was the only one in a long time to have enjoyed it. Then she withdrew, one of her hands taking the place of her mouth, the other hand fondling his balls.

"Careful," he moaned, letting her know that what she was doing, and doing well, was taking him very close to the edge.

Which was, apparently, exactly what she wanted: she closed her mouth over the head again and sucked with unbridled gusto as her hand jacked him up and down at a rapid pace. He grunted, his body twitched, and he felt himself sliding into the abyss.

He looked down and their eyes locked, and the eagerness, willingness, and wanting he saw in her sparkling blues finished him. He spasmed once and exploded, and ropes of sticky white cum flooded her mouth. He lost count after the first three pulses, his attention diverted by the suction just then applied to swallow the fluid down. Her efforts were not enough to capture everything, however; semen trickled from one corner of her mouth.

And then he finished, mind reeling, and Holli sat back on her heels. She was smiling contentedly, very proud of herself and how quickly her ministrations overtook him. She used her fingers to wipe the little bit of cum from her face, sucked them, grinned, and dipped her head again to lick away any vestiges of sperm upon his cock. It was gentle and thorough, and felt so good Adam never actually lost his erection.

Holli stared at his unflagging cock in amazement, then raised her head to look at him. She was ready to be fucked, and hard, and it was written all over her face. "Would you like to see the rest of our home?" she asked in a husky voice.

"Love to," he replied, and they rose to their feet together.

The bedroom was at the end of the hall, past two broad double French doors with frosted glass. She glided into the center of the spacious room and turned to face him as she slipped the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She was left in a matching bra and underwear, which she promptly removed as he stripped off his own clothes, too.

He took two steps when both were completely naked and brought her once more into his arms, and pressed his lips again to hers. He lifted her, burying his face into her magnificent breasts as he carried her bodily to the edge of the massive four-post bed, onto which they both fell in a heap of limbs and warm flesh.

Adam suckled on her breasts, tonguing around the pink aureole and shriveled nipple, and Holli gripped his head in her hands again to hold it firmly against her chest. She moaned happily and cried, "Fuck me, Adam, please. I want it now!"

"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning, as he pushed her back onto the bed. "Turnabout is fair play."

And with that, he slipped down and buried his head between her legs. He wasted no time with gentility; it was his mission to make her cum hard and fast, just as she had done to him, and to fuck her brains out as she had requested over dinner.

Her pussy was neatly trimmed and tasted wonderful, and as his tongue assaulted the sensitive hub of her clitoris by turns fast and slow, his fingers went exploring across all the hidden nooks and crannies along the rest of her body, caressing and squeezing softly. The barrage did exactly what it was supposed to: in short order, Holli squealed and dumped a gallon of her sweet nectar onto Adam's face as her thighs clamped down upon his head.

And then she was tugging at his hair, begging for him to come up to her, and he stretched himself out over her body, his weight supported on his elbows, his hips resting on her supple thighs, the taut nipples of her breasts grazing his chest.

She kissed him, tilting her head up to his, and her hand slid between them and wrapped around his hard shaft, and guided it forward to the slick and swollen entrance at which his tongue had so recently been. She shuddered then and her head dropped back to the mattress, and she said, breathlessly, a benediction, "I'm yours."