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Slapping her hand over her mouth, she shakes her head. “I can’t believe I just said that. That was so crude. I’m sorry.”
“I like it. You being bold and brazen needs to happen more often.”
“Why?”
“Because, it’s all part of owning yourself, your sexuality, and you’re giving yourself more confidence. Which… when are you going to tell me what that is all about?”
“I have to have a story, all because I’m not bold or brazen?” she asks, and I look her over, taking in each move she makes, whether that be just a lift of her brow or the twitch of her lip.
God, I’d like to suck on the plump flesh.
“No, let’s just say I have a knack for reading people, and I can tell you have some things you’ve been through that have made you closed off and maybe afraid to be the real you.”
This intrigues her, making her pause a moment. I can imagine she’s trying to decide what or just how much to tell me.
“Listen, it’s so easy for women like me—”
I interrupt her, “Women like you? What do you mean, Hanna?”
Rolling her eyes and tsking at me, she answers, “As if you don’t know.”
“No, Hanna, I don’t. And I’m wishing you would stop skating around it. Just say it,” I demand, and she rights herself.
Lifting her chin in defense, she answers, “Being a plus-sized woman. In today’s world, it is so easy to pretend we love ourselves, voice it to the world with gusto. But inside, we are still hurting. It comes off weak and as more reason to lose weight or eat better, so we hide the pain. We aren’t allowed to show when the world bites us.”
I understand what she means, but with her, I don’t see it. I see flaws, but they only add to her desirable features. I see curves, dips, and more, and it makes me want to explore. Why can’t she believe, while she may not be for everyone, her body is exactly right for me?
“Well said, puppet, but can you trust when I say I find you arousing? That I have thought about exploring your body nonstop since the day I first saw you?”
She shakes her head, rolling the stem of her wine glass in her between her fingers.
“Why not?” I push, and I swear it’s on the tip of her tongue and that I am on the cusp of getting it out.
“I’ve always been told I’m ‘pretty for a big girl.’ You don’t have to tell me that,” she responds, still avoiding whatever is under the surface.
“Those are two different things, Hanna. I’m not talking about your facial beauty. I’m referring to your body. If you want me to discuss what I think of your characteristics, I can, but I mean it’s all appealing; all of you is desirable.”
Her eyes widen as she slowly lifts her head to look at me.
Did it finally get through? That I want to make this woman fucking mine? Make her so damn mad over me that she craves me constantly? Needs me to come at all hours, to be raw and harsh with her? Do things she would never have imagined?
“When I was in high school, a guy like you, attractive…” She quirks a brow. “Don’t let your head get too big. Anyway, he was attractive, fairly popular. I wouldn’t say the most, but he was well known. Well, one day, he started showing interest in me. I was skeptical, as I wasn’t the ideal type I had seen him with. But he was nice.” She shakes her head. “God, why am I telling you this?”
“Because I asked you to, and you trust me enough to. Trust is important in these arrangements. Keep going.”
“Fine. So after he asked me out, I of course was excited. I’d never been on a date or had anyone interested in me. Add the fact that I was in my third foster home that year, and it was refreshing. Even if it would only lead to friendship, which I assumed that was going to be the likely outcome.”
She’s interrupted when the doorbell rings.
“Hold that thought. Let me get us our sweets.” I make quick work of grabbing the bag, plating the food, and setting it up in the living room.
“Did you just order dessert from the restaurant we left?” She laughs, looking at the spread.
“You’re correct. I wanted their cake. And we need the extra fuel.”
“I guess there’s always room for dessert.”
I watch in amazement as she cuts off a bite of the cake and moans around the chocolate now filling her mouth. My cock hardens instantly. I fork off a piece of my own and take a bite. Not surprisingly, it taste just like I remember. It’s a hit or miss sometimes with Dean’s when it comes to their food, but their desserts have been the same recipe since I was a kid.
