"I didn't realize I was doing a bad job, when I was um, doing that to you. It's just that I've not done that a whole lot, and I just...you made some noises, so I thought I was doing a good job. Maybe next time you could tell me what you like. I mean, if there is a next time. I understand if there isn't though. I'm sorry, you had to, you know, finish it yourself. I could probably get better." She rambles out as fast as she can. It may make me an asshole, but when I see this beautiful woman standing in a bra and panties, and acting self-conscious after giving the best head I've ever had, it causes my eyes to go wide and a smile to spread across my face. I mean, she's upset that I didn't come in her mouth. This might be the best conversation I have ever had in my life.
"No." I answer shortly. I know I must be grinning like a mad man because I can see her eyes narrow at me. I love the way she goes from shy to pissed, with only one smirk from me. If I ever do break this conservative woman out of her shell, she is going to be quite the handful. That thought only makes my smile widen. Cause and effect, pissing her off more. We stand staring at each other. Arguing with no words. It's an evil stare down, my humor versus her insecurities, but I need to wave the white flag before lightning bolts shoot from her eyes.
"You are absolutely, one hundred percent, not allowed to get any better at sucking my dick." Her cheeks flash pink and her eyes widen at my dirty words. I purposely try to poke the beast a little more. I love seeing her mad. It's adorable and a little terrifying too. But most importantly, it's sexy as hell.
"Gorgeous, you've had me in your mouth once. I'm already half tempted to quit my job and lock us both in this apartment for the rest of our lives. We can survive solely on protein shakes, beer, and Chinese takeout. So no, you are not allowed to get any better. If you do, it might convince the other half of my brain to follow through with that ridiculous plan."
I pause walking over pulling the dress she was holding in front of her out of her hand. "I'm honestly a little afraid for you Jess. If your mouth was any preview of how it's going to be when I get inside of you, there is a very good chance you may never see the light of day again."
I reach down dipping my finger into the top of her bra brushing against her nipple. "Did you want me to come in your mouth?" I look down to find, just as I hoped, all anger and embarrassment erased from her face. All that's left is pure heated desire.
When she doesn't answer me, I take it one step further pushing a hand into her panties. "Did you, babe?" I ask again and push the tip of my finger inside her. She lets out a loud gasp reaching forward using my biceps to balance. Leaning her head against my chest, she nods.
"Jesse, you have to stop worrying so much. I like you, and I enjoyed the hell out of everything you did tonight." I wrap my free hand around cupping her perfect ass. "I loved everything about what happened in that bed. Have a little faith that I'll be honest with you. If I don't like something, you'll know right away. However, I want you to be comfortable enough to try. Okay?" Again she only nods.
"Now, I want to get you naked and try all of that again, just to make sure we both enjoyed it as much as we think we did. Purely for research purposes. For the betterment of science." She lets out the most amazing giggle. I swear I can feel it in my soul.
It really should terrify me. If I was a smarter man, this would have been the moment I realized things were moving entirely too fast. I would have put some space between us, backed up, and recognized I was getting in too deep. It's been two dates. My soul isn't supposed to be anywhere near this yet. However, I'm not a smart man, so I suck in a deep breath and revel in feeling something again for the first time in over four years.
Brett
WHEN THURSDAY night rolled around, I was in no mood to go visit Sarah. Things had been getting worse with her recently. She's hated me for a long time. I like to think that I have gotten used to that over the years, but every time I see her it still burns. When I look into her eyes, I can still see the wild and crazy woman hiding underneath her sad, broken exterior. She is only a shadow of the woman I used to love. She's lost too much weight over the years, and for a woman who used to love shopping, she is almost always wearing yoga pants and t-shirts these days.
Two years ago, Sarah cut off all her beautiful blonde hair and dyed it red. I'm not talking just any color red either. She dyed it a shade of red that is not found naturally...anywhere. It's definitely not like Manda's deep vibrant shade of wine. Sarah's hair is the color of a fire engine. Ronald McDonald would probably sue for trademark infringement.
The first time I saw her new hair, I picked up a vase that was sitting on her kitchen counter and shattered it against her living room wall. I turned and immediately walked out, slamming the front door and causing a nearby picture frames to fall to the floor. I had already lost her mentally, but that was the first time I didn't recognize her physically.
I mourned her loss all over again that night. I stayed up for hours alternating between drinking beer, breaking things, and punching holes in my walls. It killed me, and not because I'm one of those superficial assholes that cares when my woman cuts or colors her hair. It was just one more thing about Sarah that was lost to me.
"Wow, is it Thursday again already?" Sarah asks, pulling the door open.
"Yep." I walk in carrying take out gyros. Her favorite.
"Did you get extra Z sauce and feta?"
"Don't I always?"