“Who told you that?”
“The chief resident selection committee. I'm too nice to be in charge. I guess nice girls can't be ballbusters.”
“Proven wrong. Show me your pissed-off side,” he dared her.
She whacked him with the spoon on the ass. “I hate mansplaining.”
He barely even flinched so she hit him again. It felt damn good. “I hate guys who tell me how I feel.”
She hit the other side. “I hate parents who skip their appointments and parents who won't vaccinate. I hate my office manager who treats me like a child.”
“You’re no child,” he grunted as she hit him again.
“I hate parents who act like DNA is the only thing that makes you a parent. Assholes who call me names because they're not getting along with the girlfriend or wife or whatever the hell she is. Dads who have four baby mamas and can't remember the name of a single fucking kid.” The words exploded out of her with every blow, gaining momentum.
“That guy today got to you,” he said when he she paused between breaths.
“I hate that he could. I don't know who he is, and he acted like he knew me. It’s not fair that he could make me feel weak. He could push me around and hurt me.”
She threw the spoon down as the stress of the day finally caught her. The tears started falling, and she couldn't stop them.
Somehow, Gene was on his feet with his arm around her, wiping away the tears. “Shh, it's okay, you're not weak. He’s wrong about you.”
“Is he? Right now, I'm the crying stupid drunk girl. I was supposed to be having wild sex, getting to know sadomasoitism or however you say that word. The guy I brought home won't even fuck me.”
He kissed her mouth gently and pushed his hips against hers. The outline of his cock more than pushed aside her slip. “Believe me, I want to. Fucking hell, I want to.”
“But you won't,” she accused him, wanting to blot out this pain with him inside of her.
“Not because I don’t want it. You don't know me well enough, and we’ve been drinking. There’s a lot going on in that head of yours, and I don’t want to add regret too. Let me help you forget. I can make you feel good.”
“Don’t lie to me,” she cried. No guy wanted an emotional mess like her.
"It's okay." He kissed her mouth gently, and she melted against him. "I told you to let it out. You did."
"Yeah, the cray cray."
"None of that was cray cray. Where's your bedroom?"
She nodded and pointed to the correct door.
He carried her there as if she didn't weigh anything and set her down the bed. The act was performed with such a reverence she didn't even think about whether or not her thighs were too big.
Gene knelt then, back in front of her, but this time, he looped her legs over his shoulders. "Lay back and stop thinking, gorgeous."
On a typical day, sans the assistance of alcohol, Lily would have totally been thinking about the long list of her imperfections and whether or not she was loud enough about whether or not she had an orgasm.
But not today because Gene—oh good lord—his tongue, his mouth… oh the things it did.
He gently eased her open, licking her and teasing her clit, which he'd made so very sensitive before. He started slowly and sped up, coaxing moans from her. As promised, she didn't need to do anything, which was good because a strange sense of near paralysis overtook her limbs. Awareness faded to only him and the single-minded intensity he was applying to his task.
He put one finger inside and then two, pleasuring her with his mouth and stretching her inside. Lily jumped when he touched the special spot inside of her that so rarely got the attention it needed.
Awareness disappeared until there was nothing except the looming orgasm growing more urgent and powerful as he owned her body. There was a sudden burst of glorious pleasure, and she let out a scream at the blessed relief.
It didn't stop there because he continued what he was doing, drawing it out. His tongue never faltered, lengthening her peak.
When it finally ended, she found she could barely move. Nothing like this had happened before. Was it the drinks or just him? Who knew, but she'd been reduced to a pile of languid limbs tangled in her bedspread.
