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Is it wrong? Is this a lie of omission? There’s been so much going on, but the fact is that Ed helps keep me sane. My climaxes at his hands help me relax, and he often draws a bubble bath for me afterwards, tenderly washing my hair and stroking my curves as I luxuriate in the scented water.
Then, we enjoy a meal together, and talk. Of course, I haven’t told him about my stepdad because like Jamie said, I know Ed would fly into a rage, and I don’t want any bodily harm to be inflicted. Instead, I want to take things at my own pace. But what does that mean? Should I go to the police? To my mom? To a women’s shelter? Or back to school, and just ignore everything that’s happened? I’m so confused, and at the moment, my nights in the handsome man’s arms are the only thing I look forward to. As a result, for the moment, I’m going to stay under the care and protection of Ed Ventura because I need the alpha male, and what only he can provide.
10
Ed
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” I murmur in the beautiful woman’s shell-like ear. Everything about Kimber is so gorgeous, and I’m grateful for the day that I encountered her in Club Z. Who would have thought that I’d fall for a breeder? Yet I have because Kimber’s everything that I want in a woman. She’s lush, ripe, and lovely, with an innocence about her even though clearly, something’s darkening her eyes at the moment.
“What is it?” I press again. The beautiful girl sighs before languidly stretching her arms over her head. We just made love, and her thighs are still sticky with my seed. Yet we’re so comfortable with one another, that Kimber hasn’t bothered to clean it off. Instead, she says she likes having my fluids on and in her. She enjoys it when my semen trickles down her leg, or when a gush comes rushing out unexpectedly at the oddest times. To be honest, when she tells me such things it only turns me on, and I’ve asked her to inform me when my semen rushes out of one of her holes because I want the opportunity to kneel before the curvy girl, and to clean her up with my tongue. That’s right. I’ll literally eat my own cream pie if it means tasting Kimber’s sweet snatch and ass again.
Not that I haven’t enjoyed myself the past week, cream pies or not. We’ve engaged in a flurry of lovemaking, and it truly is lovemaking and not just sex because Kimber’s vulnerability lends incredible dimension to our intimate sessions. We find ourselves staring into each other’s eyes with passion whenever I enter her. There’s plenty of kissing too, and the young woman spends the night in my bed. We’ve told Jamie that she’s staying in my daughter’s childhood bedroom, but hell if I’m sleeping on that narrow twin mattress.
But when I press her again about what’s on her mind, Kimber turns her face away, refusing to meet my eyes.
“You can tell me about Steve Forster,” I say in a low voice. “I won’t do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”
Those words make her turn to me with a wry smile.
“Really? Are you sure you won’t karate chop him so that his head falls off?”
I grunt.
“Okay, I might do that if it’s bad enough, but you can tell me, honey. I mean, don’t you feel comfortable in my house? In my arms? I’ve done everything to make you feel at home.”
A shadow passes over Kimber’s beautiful brown eyes, and immediately, I regret my words. I don’t want to make her feel worse than she already feels. The curvy co-ed is clearly juggling with some serious shit, and maybe I’ve crossed a line.
“Well, if you don’t feel comfortable with me, then how about a therapist?” I ask in a convincing voice. “I’ll pay for it, honey. A professional works wonders, and I’ve even been to therapy myself in the past.”
She shoots me a look.
“You have? Really?”
“I have,” I nod. “It was a long time ago, but I think it helped a lot.”
Kimber throws a curious look my way.
“But for what?” she asks. “Sorry, I know it’s an invasion of privacy. It’s just hard to imagine the powerful, charismatic Ed Ventura confiding in a therapist, or seeking that kind of help whatsoever. You seem invincible a lot of the time.”
I pinch her bottom, making her squeal.
“No one’s invincible, honey. But even the manliest manly man goes through tough spots, and we all have ups and downs in life. You’re not the only one.”
“Yes,” Kimber muses. “I know. Thanks, Ed.”
I let out a silent sigh of relief because I’ve avoided talking about the reason why I went to therapy, which is my low sperm count. I suppose now would be the perfect time to bring it up, and to show that we all go through phases which seem terrifying and unpredictable. I should share this confidence with Kimber in order to reveal my true self, and yet I keep my mouth shut. Why? I’m the one who’s been preaching open minds and open hearts, and yet here I am, being completely shady. What a fuck up.
