The Magic Touch

"Dez!" Lane leapt up and threw her arms around her old friend. The hug lingered a second longer than he expected. She stepped back and gave him an approving look. "Whoa. You got strong."

"You clean up pretty good too." Desmond winked back. "Went and got all professional on us."

Lane snorted and rolled her eyes. "You're half right. Beer?" From the waist up she was wearing a smart blazer and blouse, her auburn hair pulled back in a bun. From the waist down she was wearing sweatpants and slippers with bunny ears. This was her standard outfit when she was working remotely. She'd just finished a long day of video calls and was ready to unwind.

"Whisky if you got it." Desmond hung his coat up and took off his shoes. He'd thought about changing his shirt, but his whole closet was plaid button downs. It had seemed ridiculous to swap out the one he was wearing for an identical one. He was just nervous. He and Lane had been so close in high school, always hanging around the bleachers after class and shooting the breeze. Then she left for Brown, pre-law track, while he stuck around at the community college. His grades were fine, but money was tight and he had to work. They swore they would keep in touch, but between her classload and internships and his program and full-time job, they drifted apart.

For years he'd felt awkward about it. It was embarrassing to feel left behind. Eventually though, his job at the warehouse turned into leading a crew, and now he managed a pretty big team. He'd met up with other friends who'd graduated college and realized while they were still figuring themselves out, he'd already matured and come into himself. It felt good to have a secure place in the world and not have any debt. Plus, he felt a little flattered Lane had noticed his physique. He wasn't a massive guy, but long hours on the warehouse floor had thickened his arms and chest.

He flopped onto the couch as Lane yelled from the kitchen. "I hope you like bad whisky, because that's what we've got!"

Desmond surveyed the piles of books and papers on every available surface. "Still cramming, huh? I thought school didn't start for another couple of weeks."

Lane gave him a weary look and handed him a full shot glass. "It never stops. Cheers!" They clinked glasses, tapped them on the table, and took their shots with a grimace.

Lane flopped down next to him. She seemed suddenly exhausted. "Long day?" Dez asked.

She sighed. "Always." She leaned forward and picked at her nails. "I'm still wrapping things up from my summer internship, and they just mailed out syllabuses so I'm trying to get ahead on my reading, especially since I heard one of my profs is a total stickler and I really want to impress him."

This was new. Back in high school Desmond saw Lane stress out about classes, but she was always able to put it down on the weekends. Now here she was tense and cramming even though the school year hadn't started yet. He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling the taut muscles all frozen up from stress. It felt like he could read her through his fingertips, every knot and worry.

Lane hung her head as he rubbed her back. "Truthfully Dez, I'm pretty worried about this year. It's supposed to be a lot harder. My grades are great, but I feel bad all the time. Like physically bad." She squeezed her neck, lolling her head to the side. "I never used to get headaches, but now I get a migraine every two weeks. Sometimes I lose a whole afternoon to it, just lying in the dark with a rag on my face, trying to relax. I wish there was some magic word that could just stop it."

"Maybe it's not a words thing," Desmond said. "I can tell you're all knotted up." If there was one thing Desmond took seriously, it was how his body felt. His first year in the warehouse he'd eaten like shit, had terrible posture, and was rewarded by a never-ending string of muscle pulls and strains. To fix it, he didn't just change his habits. He'd also taken some classes on massage and meditation and even learned some anatomy. Now he knew his own body really well, and he knew the signs to look for in someone else. Lane's body was one big red warning light. She needed help.

"Look. Let me show you a couple things you can do to stay loose. Is it okay if I touch your back and neck?" Lane nodded. She slipped her arms into her shirt, shrugging off her bra without ever taking her shirt off. Desmond raised an eyebrow. That black, lacey bra was pretty fancy for just lounging around.

Desmond scooched up behind her and got to work. He ran his fingertips over her back, feeling under her shoulder blades and along her spine, mapping the muscles all the way up to her neck. Her right shoulder was higher than her left one and had a particularly big knot right under the shoulder blade. He pushed a thumb into it. "You lean on this side when you use the computer, don't you?" Lane grunted confirmation. "Don't do that. Let's get you a better chair."

He continued to feel along her major muscle groups, pointing out spots she could use a lacrosse ball on. He kneaded her back on section at a time, slowly coaxing her muscles into letting go. Her breath came heavy, nearly a sob. There was a lot of stress locked up in there. He tried to find the right balance of pressure and gentleness, knowing from experience that more force wasn't always better. Healing doesn't have to hurt.

As her back started to release, he worked his way up to her neck. It wasn't as bad as he thought. He could already feel her stiffness starting to melt away.

"Dez. Oh my god. When did you get so good at this," she mumbled as he worked. She seemed sleepy, more than she really should be at this time of day. Must be all that stress dissolving, Desmond thought.

Then he found a little spot on her neck that felt different from the rest. Not exactly a knot, but it definitely felt a little tense. He put his thumb behind it, slid the pad of his index finger around to grab it, and gently pushed the tip of his thumb into the spot.

The second he applied pressure, Lane's body slumped against the couch. It reminded him of the old trick for getting a cat to relax. When you grab the scruff of their neck they calm down and stop wiggling around. It activates an instinct from when their mama cat would carry them around by the neck as a kitten. Lane seemed just like that, totally calm and placid. He could feel the difference in her muscles too. Seconds earlier her muscles had been fighting each other, her short, tight pecs pulling against the bunched-up muscles of her upper back. Now all the fight had gone out of them. Her head lolled to the side, almost as if she was asleep.

Desmond gently supported her head. She'd had such a strong response, he didn't want to make any sudden movements. "Lane? Are you okay?"

"Mmhmm." Lane's voice was distant, like she was barely there.

"How do you feel?" He leaned forward so he could see her face.

"Good." Her eyes had drooped closed, and she had a small sleepy smile.

Phew. Nothing broken. He eased the pressure off her neck, finishing the massage with some light touches along her neck and shoulders. He felt her skin turn to goosebumps as she involuntarily gave a little shiver. Then he let go.

Her eyelids fluttered open as she slowly came back to her senses. Her mouth moved in the shape of words, but nothing came out. She laughed at herself, waited a few seconds, and tried again. This time the words came.

"That felt SO good. I can hardly remember what you did except that it felt just amazing. It was like I was floating underwater, totally weightless. I couldn't even talk afterwards! That never happens to me!"

Desmond smirked at that. Lane always had a lot to say. He loved that he'd left her speechless.

She shook her head and rolled her shoulders, marveling at the sudden change. "What on earth did you do? Why do I feel so relaxed now?"

Desmond shrugged. "I just felt where all the tension was and coaxed it to come out. I didn't expect you to drop into a totally different space like that. I guess you really needed some touch."

Lane blushed a little. "I guess so. It was so different, Desmond. Normally my brain is moving so fast. And I like that! I like being quick on my feet, crushing my classes, slipping in a joke where nobody expects it. That's ME. But this felt like a different side of me. A quiet, sleepy, animal side." Lane pulled into herself. "I don't know that side very well."

Desmond took her hand in his. "I like that side of you. I like all your sides."

Lane looked down at his hand holding hers. She seemed almost on the edge of tears. "I missed you, Dez." She moved his hand up to her cheek.

He leaned in and kissed her.

Something tender in her had opened up, a side he could tell she was afraid to share. He was full of nerves himself, a mix of feelings racing through his mind. He remembered how small he'd felt when she'd left, the long journey to get on his feet and become strong and healthy like he wanted to be, the guilt of not making more of an effort to stay in touch, the shame and fear that she would move on without him. And now this. Something new, a little scary, but exciting. Real. He put all of it into the kiss.

At first she just took in his kiss, soft but still. Then she put her hand around his neck and kissed him back, gently at first, then more passionately. There was an urgency in her now. He pulled her close, feeling the heat of her body against him, her little gasp of breath as he repositioned her so easily. She felt so light in his arms.

He pulled her down to lay on the couch with him. She kicked off her bunny slippers and snuggled up, still kissing as they twined their legs together. They held hands, fingers interlocked. Desmond's mind was still catching up to what was going on. Where did all this chemistry come from? How did this feel so good?

Then Lane broke the kiss. She pulled her head back to look at him, a dazed smile on her face. "Well. This is a nice surprise," she said. "You know, normally I don't even like massages. Just can't relax. But I knew I could trust you."

Now he was tearing up. He gave her a little kiss on her forehead. "Always," he said.

Lane's smile turned mischievous. She took his index finger between her teeth, closed her lips around it, and sucked it with a little pop. He wrapped his legs tighter around her, feeling her warmth against his thigh. She pulled her hips back, then rolled them forward again, just enough to graze against him. Right there, barely making contact, she held his gaze and licked the tip of his finger.

Desmond groaned from the attention. He was rock hard. After all the years apart, wondering if they'd ever see each other again, this swing from innocent hangout to intimate encounter had him burning up inside. He wanted to hold her and devour her at the same time. He was in no mood to be teased. The next time she rolled her hips back, he palmed her ass and pulled her tight against him. She whimpered in pleasure, sucking his finger and grinding in rhythm with his hand.

"Do you want more?" Desmond asked.

Lane still had his finger between her teeth. "Yes," she breathed.

"Then come here."

"Make me."

Desmond smacked her on the ass, making her yelp as he rolled on top of her, grabbed her wrists, and held her hands above her head as he pinned her to the couch. Her yelps turned to moans as he put his mouth on her neck and kissed and sucked it, his thigh shoved between her legs to press up against her. She squirmed helplessly as he ravished her neck. Her wrists were so small, he realized he could pin them both with just one hand. He repositioned, freeing up his other hand to slip up her shirt and feel her breast. She gasped as he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Then he moved his hand up behind her neck, right where he'd been squeezing earlier.

"Are you going to be good now?" Desmond asked.

Her breath was coming fast and ragged now. But he hadn't kept enough pressure on her wrists. Lane slipped his grasp, giggling, and slapped his ass right back. "Never! You'll never catch--mugh. Hunh."

He knew just where the spot was now. The second he squeezed the back of her neck, it was like he'd flipped a switch. Her words trailed off. All her squirming stopped. Her arms flopped limply. The only movement was her breath, fast and shallow now, and her hips pulsing rhythmically against his leg. He leaned his head back to look at her. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth open and panting like she was in a trance.

He asked again. "Now are you going to be good?"

"Uh huh," Lane said. Her rolling hips had felt like a tease before. Now it just felt like animal need, humping automatically against him.

Desmond felt strange. He didn't want to take advantage of her while she was so out of it. He let go of her neck. She was slower to come back this time, still humping away in her trancelike state. "Lane. Come back." Desmond said.

Her body calmed. Her hips stopped moving as her eyes fluttered and focused, the light coming back into them.

Then she was back. Her eyes got big and wild. "Dez. I am on fucking fire right now. Please, do that again and keep me there. I'm still here, I still want you. I want that feeling. I want you to fuck me."

Desmond stood up and offered his hand. "Clothes off. Show me your bed."

She hopped up and led him to her bedroom, peeling off her shirt on the way. She undid her bun, her long, auburn hair tumbling down her upper back. He watched her leap onto the bed and shuck off her sweatpants and panties in one motion. Then, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze, she tucked her legs together and blushed. "Um. How... how do you want me?" She tucked her hair behind her ear, averting her eyes. "We, uh, we don't need a condom. If you want."

Desmond silently unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the chair. His chest was heaving with anticipation. He unbuckled his belt and took off his pants and boxers, leaving them on the floor. She watched him shyly out of the corner of her eye. He stared at her with wonder and desire.

As he joined her on the bed, a piece of him wondered if this was some kind of dream. It didn't feel real. It felt like if he stopped watching her, stopped touching her, she'd disappear. He wanted her to feel free, to stretch her wings, but he also wanted to have her, to own her, to know she wouldn't leave. A delicate balance. Then he touched her hand again, felt her trembling fingers holding his, and came back to the moment. This was real. He could see something in her eyes: a desire not just to be taken, but to be kept. To give herself away. A desire she was afraid of.

He joined her on the bed. "You just lay back and follow me. Don't think about a thing," he said. He kissed her and grabbed her by the back of the neck.

He felt her kiss slacken and deepen as she went under, suddenly soft and pliant. He slipped his tongue between her lips and she instinctively sucked on it, licking it. He laid down on top of her, skin to skin. The feel of her bare breasts against his chest was electric as they melted together, breathing in tandem. It felt like her whole body was working in sympathy to him, listening to every word and movement. Wherever on her body he touched, she felt her skin humming under his hands, rising to meet him, asking for his attention.

Whatever this altered state was, he liked it. He decided to experiment.

"Can you talk when you're like this?" He asked.

"Yuh." It sounded like she was sleep talking.

"Stay," Desmond said. She went completely still. He let go of her neck, but saw no change. Her eyes were barely open. He put his finger on her lip, and instead of sucking it her mouth just hung open. He gently tweaked her nipple and still got no response.

"Suck." She wrapped her hand around his, pulling his finger into her mouth to suck on.

"Good girl," he said. She giggled and smiled around his finger. He reached down with his other hand, skimming down her stomach until he grazed her clit. "Unh!" she said, her eyes flashing at the sudden stimulation. She bucked her hips up, searching for his hand. His finger popped out of her mouth.

Desmond pinned down her bucking hips. "Keep sucking," he said. "Be good for me." She found his hand again and wrapped her lips around his finger, sucking it deep so she could press her whole tongue against its length.

"That's right. Good job." He let the pressure off her hips and trailed his fingers over her clit again. She hummed around his finger, her dull eyes flickering and rolling, but she kept sucking this time.

"Stop." He took his finger away. She looked needily up at him, her lips pursed and pouty. Her back was arching now. He could tell she was desperate for more stimulation but also wanted to follow his instructions.

He put his mouth right up to her ear, talking in a calm, low voice. His heart was racing. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Lane. You're so pretty when you're good for me. I'm so hard right now, I can barely resist you. You need me to fuck you, don't you."

Lane's breathing quickened. She made needy, whimpering sounds. Desmond kept caressing her clit and her vulva, still talking low and slow. "Use your words, Lane. Say it."

She struggled, panting out the words. "Need. Fuck. Fuck me. Need you."

Desmond positioned his cock over her, the tip of him sliding against her, warm and wet. His voice was still calm and controlled, but everything in him wanted to ravage her. "Say please."

"Pleeease. Please fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck. Please please AGHN!"

Her begging was replaced by a sharp cry of pleasure as he pushed his full length into her. He was amazed at how wet she was, how natural it felt to be inside her, like she was made perfectly for him. With just one thrust she was already trembling and clutching at his back, as if she was at the brink of orgasm. He withdrew and pushed back in, making her grunt and moan. He never could have pictured such sounds coming out of that mouth. She always spoke so precisely, so clearly, but right now her mouth hung open, drooling mindlessly. Desmond always felt he was okay in bed, nothing special. Right now he felt like a god.

He wedged his arms under her shoulders for more leverage, pulling her whole body up to him with each thrust. Her bed frame creaked but held. He reached behind her, grabbing a handful of her soft, silky hair right up against her scalp and tugging it back. She gasped and squeezed him, her mouth opening even wider. Her tongue hung out as she whined.

Before long, Desmond began to lose control. "I'm getting close, Lane. I can't hold on any longer. Where should I cum?"

Lane panted, meeting his thrusts. Her legs dangled uselessly, spread wide to take him as deep as possible in a full mating press. "Inside. Please. In me. Fill me." He looked into her face, felt her insides squeezing his cock as he fucked her faster and harder, racing towards his peak. For just a moment her dull eyes became clear. She focused on his face, gazing at him, and said, "I want your baby in me."

Her look darkened. "Make me have your baby," she said. Then her eyes went glassy again as she started to climax.

Desmond roared and erupted inside her. She shrieked, cumming with him, her vagina pulsing around him as he flooded her with his semen. He could feel her contractions milking him, extending his orgasm while drawing out every drop of cum he had to give. She hugged him close, wrapping her legs around him as they rode out the orgasm together.

They laid tangled together for a long while, dazed and dozing. He stayed inside her, softer but still throbbing. Every few minutes an aftershock would ripple through them, making one of them twitch and moan, the other squeezing them tight in sympathy.

Desmond woke up to Lane's fingers gently stroking his cheek. It was late, but the lights were still on. She looked peaceful.