Sam crushed me against him, the kiss deeper now, more insistent. His hands travelled to my hair, where he tilted my head sideways, which intensified the kiss. It was sweet before. Precious and good. Now it was hungry. Needy and possessive.
I moaned as Sam’s tongue met mine, teasing, toying, dancing against me. He shifted so his hands slipped down under my arms, gliding down my ribs so he could pull me, gasping, on top of him.
He was already hard for me. I could feel him through the thin gusset of my underwear.
“Fuck, Ellie,” Sam said against my lips, his face dipping down to my throat. “I want to be inside of you so bad.” He kissed my throat, my collarbone, the top of my breast emerging from the neckline of my dress. “But I want to taste every part of you too. What’s a man to do?”
“We have time,” I whispered, laughing.
But heat was blossoming between my legs, and as his mouth dipped lower on my chest, his hands discovered my dress stretched.
He made an animalistic kind of sound as he tugged the neckline down as far as it would give without my breasts popping out.
Support had been cleverly built into this garment for people with bigger girls like me, so when he discovered there was nothing under the dress itself, he went a little mad.
“Ellie, the whole river walkway is going to see your tits in a minute if we don’t go downstairs. Actually, they’re going to see me devouring your tits and then I’ll get arrested.”
I laughed. My back was to the street, and there were barriers between this place and the neighbors. But still, I lived here.
“I like how you dressed up,” I said, tugging gently at his tie.
Sam reached up, kissing my jaw as he loosened the knot. “I wanted to look good for you. But also I have to confess something.”
I frowned. “What’s that?”
“I’ve been buying things I shouldn’t have.”
I had no idea what that meant. “Like ties?”
He chuckled. Then he pulled the tie out from his collar and tossed it aside. “Something else. It’s becoming a problem.”
“You’re starting to freak me out.”
“It’s not bad. I don’t think. But?—”
He cleared his throat, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
He was wearing another one underneath. A t-shirt, with something written on it.
Impatient, I helped him open the rest of the buttons. Then I pulled his button-down shirt aside.
And clapped my hand over my mouth.
“Oh, Sam.”
“I keep seeing them and I keep buying them. I got some for you, too. Like, a lot of them.”
He was wearing a dad shirt. One of those corny ones they sold in gift shops. This one said,“Dad in the streets, Daddy in the sheets.”
“I would never wear it outside, I promise!”
I nearly fell off of him I was laughing so hard. “What do the mom ones say?”
“My favorite one has a bunch of raisins on it and it says ‘Mom: she’s raisin us right.’”
I laughed in the way one does with a terrible dad joke. Which I guess these kind of were for him.
I went slightly gooey inside. “They’re very sweet Sam. Just like you.”
