Chevelle spent the morning helping Abel as he cleaned his plants, watered them, and rearranged them around the house so as to expose them to the most possible sunlight. Granted, she definitely spent more time laying around and admiring Abel than she did assisting him, but he insisted that her presence was a comfort all the same.

Chevelle found that after having had sex with him, her nerves around Abel had lessened an incredible amount. The sight of him gently wiping down the leaves with a moist paper towel—his tongue curled over his upper lip, eyes focused, bent over so that she had an expert view of his ass—it definitely still made Chevelle's palm's sweat and her throat dry up a little, but overall, she was still less nervous, and that in and of itself brought her great relief. It made her relaxed enough to just be herself.

When she was laying on the sofa and he walked by her, she didn't have to think for ten minutes about whether or not she should reach up and smack his ass. She just smacked it. And when he turned around and winked at her, she smiled and blew him a kiss.

At some point in the morning, she asked Abel how many plants he had, but even he didn't know, so as Chevelle helped him move the plants around the house, she tried to count them. She was doing a good job of it until she lost count somewhere around forty, getting too distracted by the bulging muscles in Abel's arms as he moved one of the larger plants—a Ficus, I think.

"So...any plans for your big day?" Chevelle asked, leaning against the wall as she watched Abel take one of his hanging plants down from the ceiling.

Abel glanced over at her. "My big day?" he asked.

Chevelle nodded. "Yes, tomorrow. Your birthday," she said.

"Oh, that." Abel chuckled softly and set down the plant he was holding. He walked over to Chevelle and took both of her hands in his, pulling her to him and wrapping her arms around his body. He looked down at her with a smile, his voice low as he said, "Well I was hoping to take you out somewhere nice. Celebrate our big day."

Chevelle felt the foolish grin spreading across her lips and she didn't bother trying to hide it. She really liked the way those words sounded coming from Abel's lips. The idea of them being a unit. It wasn't her big day or his big day; it was their big day. Together.

But as quickly as the smile had formed, it vanished when Chevelle remembered the events of that morning. She let her arms drop from Abel's waist as she sighed.

"What's wrong?" Abel asked with a frown.

"It's nothing, just...my mum wants us to do something for my birthday tomorrow. As a family. So I don't think I'll be able to celebrate with you."

Abel's face fell and Chevelle could see that he was disappointed, even if he didn't let in on it. She felt guilty about not being able to spend the day with him, especially after the impression she had left him with last night. And he had already made plans for their birthday.

Forcing a smile back onto his lips, Abel took Chevelle's hands in his once more. "Hey," he said. "It's okay, don't feel bad."

"Me?" Chevelle asked. "I should be saying that to you. You're the one who made plans and now I'm messing them all up."

Abel shook his head. "You're not messing them up," he promised. "Plans are easy to cancel. Much less easy to follow through on. Besides, my friends wanted to throw a little shindig for me and they were pretty sad when I told them I was spending the day with you instead, so they'll be happy to know it's back on."

Chevelle smiled, leaning forward and resting her head on Abel's chest as she gave him a tight hug. "Okay, good," she said. "I'm happy to hear that. I think you'll have a great time tomorrow."

Abel chuckled, hugging Chevelle back and resting his chin atop her head as he held her close. "Yeah, me too," he said. "I just wish I could do something to make your day better."

"Trust me," she assured him. "You already have."

↠ • ↞

After Chevelle and Abel finished up with the plants, Abel brought her with him to the hardware store where he bought three new pots to replace the ones at his house that had been leaky.

The trip was short, but Chevelle still enjoyed every second of it. It was nice to be out with Abel. Nice to see him as he interacted with other people, in his own element. And being with him in public made Chevelle feel closer to him—like she was with him, rather than just...with him. She wondered what the people they passed by thought when seeing the two of them. Whether people assumed they were together just from the way they looked at each other. The way they stayed close even when they didn't need to.

The two didn't engage in much PDA while they were out—the occasional touch of the hand or graze of the lower back, but that was it. And although they were very touchy in private, that wasn't really a problem for either of them. They were still learning each other, and through the years Abel had learned that it was best to take these things slow. Especially when outside eyes were involved.

As soon as they got back into Abel's car though, he leaned over to the passenger seat and kissed Chevelle. A hot and heavy kiss that left Chevelle breathless by the time he pulled away.

She brought a finger to her lips, touching them gently. "What was that for?" she asked.

Abel smiled, shrugging. "I need to have a reason?" he asked.

"I guess not," Chevelle said, biting her lip as she deliberated for a second, and then leaned over to the driver's seat and kissed Abel back—a much slower, more sensual kiss that made Abel reach over and lift Chevelle out of her seat and onto his lap where she could straddle his body. Where she could really feel what he was working with as they grinded into each other.

They spent the next ten minutes making out and dry humping each other in the front seat of Abel's Honda. Chevelle felt like a teenager again as Abel reclined his seat, laying them both down so they couldn't be seen. At some point, Abel's fingers found their way between Chevelle's parted legs. He teased her through her panties until the fabric was drenched, and by then, Chevelle was an incoherent mess, moaning into Abel's mouth as her legs trembled below.

When Abel finally yanked the fabric aside and pushed two large fingers into her wetness, Chevelle gasped loudly and he gasped with her, a wicked smile on his lips as he looked her in the eyes and watched her moans grow guttural.

"God...you're so fucking sexy," he growled, and Chevelle could do nothing but whimper in response.

She could feel Abel growing in his pants and she brought her hands to his crotch, rubbing gently and watching as Abel's brows drew together in pleasure. He whispered out a quiet 'fuuuck' and Chevelle literally felt her pussy quake. She wanted to pull him out of his jeans and sit on it. She wanted to fuck him right there, in broad daylight, in the front seat of his car. And she would've done it too, if not for the fact that they didn't have any condoms with them.

Chevelle didn't want to be as reckless as she'd been the previous night. She knew she'd been pushing her luck, fucking him raw the way she had, and she didn't want to push it any further.

"Put another finger inside me," she begged, her voice breathy and low, and Abel quickly complied, pulling out of her and replacing his two long fingers with three.

As he entered back into Chevelle, she gripped his shirt tightly, balling the fabric up in her fists as he fucked her harder this time. Faster.

"You're so tight," he purred. "And after I wore you out yesterday, too."

"Oh please," Chevelle whispered, too out of breath to find her voice. "I milked you dry."

Abel raised a brow at her, an amused smile on his lips as he wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her down on his body with even more force. With enough force that she could feel the monster in his jeans throbbing against her clit through the fabric.

"You feel that?" he breathed, and Chevelle nodded frantically. He smiled. "Looks like you might have to milk me a little more."

Chevelle whimpered out something of affirmation, barely able to even keep her eyes open as she felt something inside of her shudder. It was both Abel's voice and the way he spoke to her—something about the way he was never afraid to say what was on his mind. There was none of that nervous energy with him, and his boldness emboldened Chevelle as well.

All of a sudden, Abel thrust his fingers all the way inside of her, as deep as they would go. He watched as Chevelle's mouth fell into an 'o' and she made a noise that can't quite be described in English. Her head fell forward, onto Abel's shoulders, as her body tensed up.

As Abel gazed upon Chevelle's trembling body, the pressure in his jeans became unbearable. He couldn't really understand it; he'd never before been so aroused—so horny—that it hurt. Like, it was physically hurting him not to be inside of Chevelle, and he wasn't sure what to do with a feeling like that.

"Abel," came her quiet moan. "Please, don't stop."

Keeping the pace of his fingers steady, Abel brought his lips to Chevelle's ear and bit the lobe gently. "I want you to cum for me," he whispered.

And as though he'd spoken the magic words, within moments, Chevelle was cumming onto his fingers, whispering out expletives in multiple languages as her body shook in orgasm. Abel could feel the precum dripping from his cock as he watched Chevelle erupt in his arms, and once the intensity of her orgasm had subsided, Abel pulled his fingers out of Chevelle and brought them to his lips, licking every last drop of her juices from his hand.

Chevelle watched, hypnotized, as Abel sucked his fingers clean, not taking his eyes off of her even once. Before he could get to the last finger though, Chevelle grabbed his hand and pulled it to her, keeping her gaze locked on his as she wrapped her lips around his finger and sucked off the rest of her nectar, savoring the taste. When she was done, she then reached down to Abel's pants and unzipped him, gripping his cock tightly as her free hand roamed the body beneath his shirt. Abel winced, and then, as Chevelle began to gently circle the tip of his shaft with her thumb, his expression slowly contorted into one of pleasure.

Chevelle smiled, dropping her gaze as she pulled Abel's cock out of his jeans and into the light, admiring it the same today as she had yesterday.

She brought her hand to her mouth, wet it, and then lowered it back down to his pulsing rod as she began to stroke him—slowly at first, her touch butterfly-soft, but quickly growing needy. Abel was so thick that Chevelle's fingers didn't even touch when she wrapped her hand around him. It felt like she was holding a water bottle, except hot, slick, and throbbing.

Wetting her other hand, she brought it to his cock and used both hands to twist as she pumped up and down on his shaft.

She loved the sight of Abel like this—of him melting in her hands as the pleasure and arousal tore through him. His brows were scrunched together, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted, and his breaths were so shallow that Chevelle could hear them even above her own.

"Mmm..." she purred. "Does that feel good?"

Abel let out a low, rasping moan as he twitched below Chevelle, and at the sound of his voice, the wetness started to creep back between her thighs. He didn't need to speak; she could see exactly how he felt in the way he met her gaze, his eyes begging—no, demanding—for more. Chevelle leaned forward and kissed Abel, letting her tongue dip into his mouth as his hands found their way to the back of her head. Their kiss was wet and sloppy and urgent, and as Chevelle sped up her strokes, breathy moans began to rise from Abel's chest and fall into her mouth.

Before long, he was thrusting his hips against the movement of her hands, grunting as his breaths grew choppy. Erratic.

"Stop."

Chevelle didn't stop. She was half-sure she'd heard him wrong—that she'd missed the whispered 'don't' that came before the 'stop.' She squeezed on his shaft a little bit tighter, kissing him even harder as the pressure building within him grew.

"Chevelle, stop," Abel said again, panting heavily as he tried to fight back the orgasm he was just on the brink of. He pulled away from the kiss and looked at her, but he didn't make any moves to actually stop her from what she was doing. He didn't have it in him. It felt too good, and they both knew it. "Chevelle," he moaned, "I'm about to cum."

"Then cum," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss and lick the sensitive skin of Abel's neck. "I want to see you," she said, nipping at his skin sharply and loving the way he shivered in reaction.

"But—" He looked around them, and she thought for a moment it was because he was worried someone would see them, but then he said, "The car..."

And as the previous day flashed through Chevelle's mind, she suddenly understood his apprehension. His car was quite nice; it was obvious that he prided himself in taking good care of it, and if there was anything yesterday's rendezvous had taught her, it was that when Abel Seifu reached his climax, it was explosive. If she stroked him till he came out in the open like this, there was no doubt he would be spending a long time cleaning up the mess from the inside of his car.

A sly smile spread across Chevelle's lips as she finally let Abel go. "There's a very easy fix for that," she murmured, sliding off of his body and maneuvering back into the passenger seat. Once she was situated, she leaned over, not bothering to warn Abel before she brought her mouth to his throbbing monster and took as much of him as she could down her throat.

"Fuuuck,"

Abel let out a throaty groan as his head fell back onto the seat. He had to fight to keep his eyes open; they were itching to fall shut as Chevelle slurped up his cock, but even more powerful was his desire to see her. To watch as she eagerly fought to take more of him into her mouth—as the saliva dripped from her parted lips, her jaws pried open by his sheer size.

Chevelle had never sucked a dick this big before, and so as she tried to take him impossibly deeper, she felt herself starting to gag. Before her reflexes could force Abel out of her mouth though, she squeezed down on her left thumb to stop them, and once the gagging had subsided, she was able to open her throat even further. But even then, as she pushed her body beyond what it had ever done before, she saw that there was still a good two to three inches of him that she couldn't take.

It was no matter though, because soon enough, she felt Abel's hips buck. He began thrusting himself into her mouth, fucking her face as his moans grew airy, as his heartbeat became sporadic.

"God, yes," he breathed out. "That feels amazing. I'm—I'm gonna..."

Chevelle prepared herself, taking a deep breath and sinking herself even further onto his cock as he finally came, erupting into her mouth, a sticky, oozing mess of cum and sweat. He let out a deep, guttural moan as he orgasmed, and the sound filled the entire car. It filled Chevelle's body.

She kept on sucking his cock as he shot load after load of his sticky, sweet cum down her throat and into her gut, and she didn't stop gobbling him down until the twitching of his entire body had calmed somewhat. When it had, she lifted her head and looked up at him with a cheeky smile, using both hands to milk out whatever was remaining inside of him.

Abel let out a string of curse words as she squeezed out the remainder of his cum and brought her mouth back to his cock, keeping her eyes on his as she lapped it up. When she was done, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and before she could lean back into her seat, Abel had grabbed her and pulled her to his lips, kissing her with a feverish desire that fanned the flames between her legs.

They kissed for a few minutes, their lips teeming, their movements unhurried. They took their time to taste each other, to touch each other's bodies, and when they finally pulled away, they looked at each other, up close and personal. Both of them had smiles on their lips—pert, satisfied smiles that said everything words could not.

Chevelle's smile told Abel that she had needed this. That she had been yearning for an opportunity to let herself go—to reconnect with the most carnal parts of herself—and that he allowed her to do that in a way that only he could. And in turn, Abel's smile told Chevelle that she brought out something in him he had thought was forever lost. That there was something about their connection that just felt right—more right than things in his past that he'd thought were destined. That, with her, he felt a comfort that couldn't really be explained. As though they had loved each other in a past life. Like their souls were already old friends.

It was strange for either of them to think that they had met less than four days ago, because they didn't feel like strangers to each other, and it was rare to find someone like that. Someone that felt like home so quickly.