“Hmm…?”
“Can we use different terms other than boyfriend and girlfriend? I hate the way they sound. I don’t know why, but they make me cringe.”
He laughs softly. “Whatever you want, babe.”
Ooof,babe. That makes me feel some type a way.
“What do you want us to call each other, instead?”
I lick my lips in concentration. “How about we just say we’re each other’s person? Or you’re my man and I’m your woman?”
“Hm. I like the sound of you’re my woman. It sounds great. Better be prepared though…if someone asks what weare, I’m going to say you’re my woman and if they get offended and think I’m anti-feminist, it’s your fault.”
I smile down at my man. Ah! My man!
“I’ll take the heat for it. I don’t care.” I give him an eskimo kiss.
Butterflies explode inside me. I officially have a man, and he’s my best friend. I never would’ve predicted this. Getting to be with him used to seem like a far-fetched dream and now he’s mine.All mine.
I study him, running my fingers over his cheeks, his eyebrows, his chin, admiring every part of him. He lets me explore while looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world, a small smile permanently set on his face.
My fingers reach his chest and I notice his shirt’s still pulled up, his v-cut clearly sticking out, his belly rising and falling with his breaths. And then… and then there’s him, his hardness, pressing against his jeans, forming a huge outline.
My body reacts quickly. The rebound rate on me still surprises me but I’m not complaining about it. He clearly notices the change in me as his eyes glaze over, his lips now parting, tongue dancing slowly in his mouth as it lies in wait for my next move. His breathing picks up in sync with mine.
Feeling bold, I lean down, kissing him fiercely and explore his face, his neck, his chest and finally his v-cut and the creases in his abs.
Our tongues dance, his body trembling with each light touch I trace on his skin. I can feel him pulsing beneath his jeans on my leg which isn’t helping how wet I already am.
He can’t tell me what to do. I want to see what it feels like. I’m going for it.
I move my leg off him, making room for me to travel my hand along his skin, savoring every ripple until I run over the button on his jeans. He doesn’t stop me. I reach down and drag my palm over him on the outside of his pants. His thickness takes up most of my palm, the length longer than I expected.
When I reach the end of it, I drag my palm down again and apply a small amount of pressure. His hips buck and his eyes roll back as I rub my palm harder on him, slowly grinding up and down.
“Fuck, Char.Fuck,” he moans. I revel in his reaction, soaking in the control of his pleasure that makes me feel powerful.
“Even though I was forbidden from touching you, bet you’re glad I did, huh?”
“You brat,” he smirks mischievously.
In one move he hooks his arm around my leg, flips me on my back and climbs on top of me. He inches both my legs apart with his knees and lays himself on top of me.
Nervousness arises but I swallow it. There’s no need to be nervous. I trust him. Plus, I’m having fun, and I amreallyenjoying this.
I want to keep experiencing this pleasure and giving him pleasure back. This is how couples are supposed to be.
Ahhh, I love that we’re a couple.
He rests his hands next to my ears, the veins popping out from the strength it takes to hold himself up over me.
“Tap if you need to,” he pants.
He lowers, his full weight dropping on me before he begins grinding into me. Hard.
Up and down.
Up and down.
