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“So, are we dating?” The fuck!
“Stephanie, how many nights this week did we go out to dinner together?”
“Three or four.” I hate and love that timid tone of hers. I love it because it makes me hard as fuck sometimes, and I hate it because I know sometimes it means she’s feeling vulnerable and unsure of herself. She’s had way too much of that.
“How many times have I been inside you?” Her body trembled a little, and she tucked herself in closer to my side.
“I don’t know; I lost count.” She mumbled into my chest, and I could almost feel the heat of her blush against my skin.
“I didn’t hear you.” I did, but for her, mumbling is another one of her tells, one of those walls she hides behind. She repeated herself louder this time.
“So, what’s the answer to your question?” I kissed the top of her head to ease the harshness of my response.
I felt her relax, but for some unknown reason, I found myself feeling pissed again. It’s been happening a lot lately, this unexplained anger, but never at her. I doubt she realizes how much she reveals about herself in the things she says, or maybe she’s not accustomed to anyone listening to her or reading between the lines of the things she discloses.
Me, I’d like to meet her ex and plant my foot in his ass. It’s obvious that she’d never been treated the way a woman should be in any sense of the word, but this last question made my heart go soft and tied my guts in knots. That’s something else that’s been happening more of late, that softness of heart that I’ve never known.
What kind of woman, having experienced what we had together in the last week, doesn’t know that she’s being wooed? It’s not innocence or even naivety because, in all other aspects of her life, she’s like a machine. Her business acumen is on par with mine, her self-confidence better than most, but in this one thing, when it comes to relationships, she’s like a lamb to the slaughter.
“Let me put it this way, no man fucks a woman as hard or as often as I fuck you if there isn’t something there.” I figured that was the best way to put it to her without beating around the bush. “Does that answer your question?” She nodded her head and moved it further onto my chest. In all fairness, maybe she doesn’t know that we’re dating because I spend more time inside her than taking her out on these so-called dates.
Like tonight, we were supposed to be going to some play she wanted to see, which I’d have rather put a hole in my fucking head than sit through, but had resigned myself to doing for her, but instead, as soon as she opened the door and I saw the sexy evening gown she was wearing I took her down just inside the door as soon as the shit closed behind me. Sex is my love, language, I guess.
She also doesn’t know that we’re both new to this. That I haven’t ‘dated’ anyone since my college days, and none of them were as serious as this. Right now, I’m going with my feelings and doing whatever I feel is right at the moment. So far, I know I like spending time with her, like taking her out on the town or sitting down across from her at some table in some fancy restaurant that’s not worth half the price on the damn menu.
Mostly I like the way she lights up when she’s happy; I’ve become addicted to it. And, of course, I can’t forget the way my cock feels when I’m buried deep inside her with her soft cushiony body pressed close to mine, our hearts racing together from another one of our sexual marathons. So far, that last one has all the others beat by a landslide.
“Ah, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Along with the play, I was supposed to be feeding her.
“No, what makes you say that? My tummy didn’t grumble or anything.” She put her hand on her stomach.
“So why are you asking me about dating?” That finger went back into play on my chest, and my cock took notice. “Forget it. Your answer will just make me crazy anyway.” No doubt, she can talk circles around an orator with her shit.
She opened her mouth, but I didn’t give her a chance to get a word out because her mouth was full of tongue as I rolled her onto her back and slipped inside her again. There it is! I closed my eyes in sheer bliss as her warmth wrapped around my length and squeezed.
Fuck, I forgot the condom again. I’ll just pull out. Though that hasn’t been working out so well for me thus far. She has this way of clamping down around me right at the end, and it feels so fucking good spilling anywhere but in her belly is the last thing on my mind.
