AllFreeNovel
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Another step. Two. Three. Six.
Then she’s standing next to my clothes. Since I’m expecting her to glance down, it’s satisfying when she continues surprising me and doesn’t.
Her gaze remains locked on mine as she takes a seat cross-legged on the deck. She’s dressed for the frigid weather. In addition to her heavy coat and silly hat, she’s wearing fur-lined snow boots.
“My ex cheated on me. I haven’t been with another guy since.”
I appreciate her bluntness as much as the indication she’s as interested as I am. I also admire it. Most girls would weave some story about ending things first.
My one and only relationship ended with me being dumped. I know how much it sucks, how easily inadequacy sneaks in. Even if I wasn’t so attracted to this girl, I’d want to help her regain confidence.
“I’m a great rebound,” I tell her.
She scoffs, then looks toward the mountains I was studying before she appeared. “You were right. The view’s better from here.”
“I meant the view frominthe tub, not next to it.”
She glances at me. Not at my face, at my dick, which swells further under her scrutiny.
I know I’m bigger than average. Some girls enjoy the challenge, others are intimidated by it. It’s an inconvenience, honestly, most of the time. Mainly because it’s rarely a girl who’s seen mycock before looking at my erection and so it’s a topic of conversation every time. A reassurance that yes, it’ll fit.
This stranger says nothing complimentary or concerned, which is new.
“Girls usually tell me their name, at least, before checking out my package,” I say.
She snorts. “Package?”
“Full one, isn’t it?” I wink. “Feel free to keep looking.”
“You’re the one with your dick out. It’s a free country; I can look wherever I want.”
“Did you learn that in England?”
She shakes her head, then tilts it back to look up at the starry sky.
I take the opportunity to study her profile up close. Don’t bother to look away when she turns her head to the side and catches me staring.
“Alice,” she says. “My name is Alice.”
“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” I lift my glass toward her in a mock cheers, then sip.
She snorts, then asks, “Do I have to show you my pussy to get your name?”
I start coughing, whiskey traveling up my nose so it feels like I’ve inhaled fire. My eyes water immediately.
Alice grins at my reaction, the first smile I’ve seen. It softens her perfectly symmetrical features, warms some of her icy aloofness.
I play hockey. I’ve heard—and participated in—plenty of chirping on the ice, and I have no problem talking dirty to a girl. But they don’t talk dirty tome. They giggle and blush and moan in response to whatever shit spews out of my mouth. I’ve never met a girl who usedpussyas part of her vocabulary, let alone in a first conversation.
I take another sip of whiskey, trying to soothe my irritated throat and regain some control over the situation.
Alice stands. For one disappointing second, I think she’s leaving. Then her pink pom-pom hat falls to the deck, right on top of my joggers. Followed by her down coat. She’s wearing a thick sweater beneath it, but that lands on the ground too. Followed by a thermal shirt similar to the one I wore snowboarding earlier.
She’s wearing a sports bra. Not lingerie or lace, but my cock doesn’t care. I can see the curve of her boobs above the stretchy material. The smooth, toned skin of her stomach beneath and the sharp edges of her collarbone under the straps. If I squint, I can make out the raised bumps of her nipples.
Her boots go next, followed by wool socks.
Girl dressed for this walk like it was an Arctic expedition.
