Lending a Hand

This is a story about new beginnings.

I was twenty-one, and after graduating early from a faraway university, I'd moved home and taken a job at a coffee shop. In my time off, I was writing as much as I could: $20 here and there for freelance work on church newsletters, product descriptions, whatever people needed. The coffee shop had a neglected Facebook page that the owners asked me to bring back to life.

At home, I was alone most of the time. My dad was a jack of all trades in our small town, so from day to day he worked as a carpenter, a plumber, or even tech support, but his "real" job was as an electrician. He did whatever people needed around town, and mostly made cash for the side jobs. My mom died when I was twelve, and I think being busy helped him keep going.

About once a week, we managed to be in the same place at the same time long enough to eat pizza and catch up. Dad was proud of me for putting together a beginner's version of his multi-gig hustle - in a small town, that's how a lot of people have always worked, not a millennial trend. We compared stories about clients trying to weasel out of paying, and he treated me like an equal even though my bills were for $20 or $40 and his were for $500 or $1,000.

That September, Dad told me my cousin James was going to stay with us for a while. James was 28, and the wheels had come off his life in the last month. He'd been back in school, married for a few years, and living in a cute little house with his wife when she told him she'd met someone else and wanted him to leave. He'd stopped going to class and retreated into himself.

I loved James, who'd been the cool older cousin all my life and was nice to me even when he could have been mean and distant. I wore a locket that had belonged to my mom, and on the same chain I had a flattened penny from when James showed me how to put coins on the train tracks. James had been there for me after she died. I felt really bad about what he'd been through now, and Dad and I had plenty of room.

Right away, it was nice to have another person in the house. James was looking for a job, and sometimes he'd come to the coffee shop to post up and work on applications on his laptop. He stuck to times when I was working so he could walk outside to smoke without having to put all his stuff away. One day, I left the counter for a minute to use the restroom, and when I came back, James was bussing empty cups from a table. The last customers had left them, and we were alone in the shop.

"Oh my gosh, James, you don't have to do that," I said. But he was wearing earbuds and didn't hear me approach. I put one hand on his shoulder and reached out the other one to take the cups. James smelled just faintly of cigarettes, hidden under Altoids and what I assumed was his deodorant, like the ocean and fresh mint and lime. He turned to me and, as he pulled out one earbud, I felt a low vibrational beep pass between us. Whoa, what was that?

The moment passed, and we closed the shop together and walked home.

• • •

After that, James started to help with things during my shifts. Working at the coffee shop could be surprisingly hard on my feet and my joints, and his small gestures meant a lot to me. One day, an unfamiliar customer was watching James pick up some table trash when James looked up at me and smiled.

"Your boyfriend is so sweet to help you out," the customer said, and I blushed.

"He's not, uh, thank you," I stammered. "You're right, he's really sweet." James, once again in his earbuds, was oblivious.

Over the days and weeks, the color returned to James' face and he began to look like himself again after such a grim time in his life. He spent shifts at the shop with me, applying for jobs or playing games or working on whatever projects he might have had. At home, he was always cooking or tinkering with something - my do-it-all handyman dad had plenty of broken gadgets and furniture in need of repair or fresh paint.

And then James got a job. He'd been a welder before, and he found a good union position at a plant outside of town. I was so happy for him, and we celebrated with Dad over a splashy dinner of grilled shrimp and lobster. But that Monday, when James left for work and I walked to the coffee shop alone, I found I missed him. This is fine, I can do my job by myself, I thought. He was never going to stay there, that was never what was going to happen, and why do I care so much? This is silly, I told myself.

James was scheduled for regular day shifts, and I worked mornings or evenings that varied from week to week. Early one afternoon, I came home from work, took a shower, and fell into bed for a heavy nap. When I drifted toward waking, there was an unfamiliar weight next to me and what felt like a hand resting on my side.

"Hey sleepy," James said. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, and his hand on my waist felt electrified.

Outside, the sky was dark. "Wow, what time is it? I've been asleep forever," I said, with fake casual lightness even I could hear was not convincing.

"Move over," James said, and I scooted away from him on the bed. He lay next to me, over the blankets, and brushed hair away from my face.

"My hair must look awful, I fell asleep right after I washed it," I said.

"You look beautiful," he lied, and his hand gently squeezed my side. "I just got home from work, and I picked up stuff to make dinner, but honestly it's a lot nicer here with you."

"James, we shouldn't - I mean, it's . . . " I trailed off. It's what? We shouldn't what?

As my thoughts raced, James angled toward me, caught my eyes with his, and smiled that beautiful smile. I must have smiled back, because I was still smiling when he kissed me. At first, our mouths were closed, and I gently pulled away.

"My breath must be awful," I said. "All that coffee and then a nap?"

James fumbled in his pocket and pulled out an Altoid, which he held up to my lips. I opened my mouth to receive it, and as he placed it on my tongue, I heard a small groan from deep in his throat. I closed my mouth around his fingertip and gently bit down on it.

"Ohhh my god," James groaned. He pulled his finger free and kissed me, finding a rhythm with slower, softer kisses before opening his mouth against mine. My back arched and I felt our stomachs touch through the blankets.

"I hate these, we need to get rid of them, right?" James said, indicating the blankets. He stood up to shut my bedroom door, and I folded the blankets away to one side. James was tall-ish and rangy, wearing gray Dickies and a plaid flannel shirt. I watched as he methodically untied and took off his heavy work boots, which he did by bending at the waist and reaching all the way to the floor.

"You're beautiful," I said. "Take your shirt off."

I watched, rapt, as he partly unbuttoned the plaid shirt then pulled it over his head, revealing a broken-in gray thermal shirt beneath.

"Keep that on," I said, and he laughed. "Are you wearing a belt?"

He lifted the hem of the thermal so I could see the square buckle on a simple brown leather belt, which he unbuckled and pulled out of its loops in one agonizingly slow movement. I caught the briefest glimpse of his navel and a tangle of dark hair below it, and I felt my clit pulse achy waves up into my belly.

James sat on the edge of the bed again, and I sat up too, resting my head on the back of his shoulder and breathing in his familiar smell.

"You always smell incredible," I said. "Like, I don't even mind the smoke, which has never happened before."

He turned to face me, sitting cross-legged, and I inventoried my own clothes: I'd put on a soft tank top and pajama pants after I showered, with just panties beneath. Now, James brushed my back with one hand, finding the bottom hem of my tank top and sliding beneath it. I felt my nipples get hard, and James saw them through the thin material. I stood and let my pajama pants fall away, then I climbed onto James' lap, facing him, with my legs on either side.

He put both hands up the back of my tank top, and they felt warm and strong on the sensitive area at my waist. We kissed again and kept kissing, and he slid his hands around to my breasts, cupping them with his hands and using each index finger and thumb to probe and massage my nipples. With delight, he picked up and examined my necklace with the flattened penny.

My breasts were medium size, enough to be a real handful. I moaned at his touch and managed to say, "Please suck on them." He tugged the top of the tank top down, I lifted my breasts out, and he took one nipple in his mouth and the other between his fingers. Jolts of pleasure shot through me and I let my head roll back.

With his free hand, James touched the gusset of my pink cotton panties, which must have been wet. "Wow, you're ready, huh?" he said, laughing. His fingertips found the waistband and slid beneath it, and I gasped at the touch.

"We need to rearrange and take some more clothes off," he said, and tipped me backward until I was lying on the bed. Then he stood and pulled the thermal over his head, revealing more of the same soft dark hair across his chest and trailing down his belly. I could see a faint suggestion of abs, which I knew was because he was both naturally thin and a working man, not any secret gym membership. He unbuttoned his flat-front work pants and let them drop, revealing snug blue cotton boxer briefs.

"Oh, those are really good," I said. He smiled - was that a blush I saw? - and tugged them down too. Out sprang his cock, half hard, with neatly trimmed pubic hair.

I pulled my own panties down and off, and James considered my trimmed pussy. He knelt next to the bed and told me to scoot down to him. I pulled my tank top over my head, threw it on the floor with the other clothes, then did as I was told. James put one of my legs over each shoulder and gently moved me so I could feel my ass hanging just over the edge of the bed.

"I love your pussy," he said, and used two fingers to trace my outer lips. Then he used his fingertips to probe into my vagina, and the smooth motion told me how wet I must be. He drew his fingers out and gently touched my clit. When I gasped at his touch, he kept his fingers there, swirling soft circles around the sensitive knot of flesh.

"What do you want, Samantha?" he asked, in a low, steady voice. He was still massaging my clit.

"Ohhh. I want that, what you're doing. I want whatever you want," I said, and I knew then that I meant it.

"Do you want my hard cock?" he asked, and with his other hand, he plunged two fingers deep into my pussy. I felt them push into me rhythmically and then curl up into my g-spot.

"Please, I do, please, please," I begged. "Keep going."

My body moved toward climax, and I realized I'd begun tweaking my nipples without thinking. James kept finger fucking me until, after just a couple of minutes, I felt an orgasm began to pulse through my pussy and then my entire body. The intensity surprised a loud sound out of me.

"Slow down slow down," I said, and James' slower pace let me ride out the orgasm. I felt my pussy tightening in pulses around his fingers. He was watching my face, and I held eye contact while the last pulls of pleasure tugged at me.

"How was that?" he asked. He loosed his fingers and grabbed a tissue from my nightstand to wipe them off.

"So good," I said. "I want you to fuck me and then I want to sleep forever. Come here." I scooted back to one side of the bed, and James lay next to me. As we kissed, I found his cock, which was only half hard but quickly responded to my touch. I held my hand in a loose circle and gently stroked up and down.

James moaned quietly and kissed me deeper. His hand found my nipple again and he pinched it between his fingers, squeezing harder this time.

"Please, James," I said, in breathy gasps between kisses. "Please put your cock inside me. I need it." I felt his hard cock twitch in my hand. With the other hand, I reached into my nightstand, where I kept a small bottle of high-end lube. I dripped a tiny bit onto James' cock and stroked slow swirls until his whole cock slid easily back and forth through my hand.

"Is that okay?" I asked, searching James' closed eyes for confirmation.

"Fuuuuuck," he breathed out. "It's amazing."

I sat up and straddled James' thighs so I could use both hands. With my thumb, I sought the spot on James' circumcised cock where the head meets the underside of the shaft and rubbed small circles there.

"You're so beautiful, Samantha," James said. He lightly rubbed his hands up and down my thighs while I stroked his cock.

"Are you ready for me?" I asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he said.

I let go of his cock and got up on hands and knees so I was looking directly down into James' face. Slowly, I lowered my hips and felt the tip of his cock press against my clit.

"Are you sure?" I teased.

I felt James reach beneath me to grab the base of his cock, then he raised his hips to push just the head into my pussy. I tightened my pussy around him, squeezing and releasing a few times. His eyes widened and he laughed. I leaned back and eased myself down onto his hard cock. The length of it pressed fully into me and, after an agonizing and blissful slide, I felt our bodies press together.

With his cock filling me, I arched my back and leaned backward onto my hands, letting his cock press into my g-spot. James was stroking my thighs again, and I took one of his hands. I pressed his thumb against my clit and gasped at the sensation.

"Hold that right there," I breathed. I began moving my hips forward and back. James offered his free hand, and I interlaced my fingers with his. He squeezed my hand, and I noticed he was looking intently at me.

"I love you, I have for years," he said in a rush.

"Me too," I said, and smiled. "And I always just liked you as a person. I didn't even know how good you are in bed. Ohhh, keep going, I'm about to come."

I kept rocking my hips and sped up the pace. With James' strong pressure on my clit and his thick cock filling me up, it had happened really fast: the first flickers of orgasm touched me and I braced myself. Warm splashes of pleasure filled my insides, and I felt my pussy tightening around James' cock.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna come too," James said. I squeezed my kegel muscles and held onto his cock with all my might. He began to buck under me, raising his hips off the bed. I leaned forward, pressed our stomachs together, and put my mouth right next to his ear.

"Come in me, James," I said softly. "Fuck me and fill me up. I want it so much." I ran the tip of my tongue around the very edge of his ear and nipped gently at the lobe.

"I'm coming," he gasped, and reached for my breasts with both hands. As he pinched my nipples, I felt spurts of hot cum spread deep inside me from his twitching cock.

Finally, we lay together, spent and warm. "I should go pee," I said.

"You should stay here with me forever, but yes, go pee," James said.

When I got back into bed, James was under the blankets and lying on his side. I nestled back into him. His hands touched me idly: my breasts, the notch of my waist, the crease beneath my ass. I felt my breath catching and quickening.

James must have noticed too. "Oh, you like that?" he said. His hand sought my pussy and I felt his fingers on my clit. My thighs spread instinctually and James pressed his thigh up against my pussy. I grinded on him while he rubbed my clit, and I quickly came a third time.

I rolled to face him. "This has been incredible," I said. "I've never had sex with someone I really love, and I guess people are right that it's so different."

"It's different," James echoed.

For the next few minutes, we kissed slowly and deeply. After that, we fell asleep.