But what I said was, “Or we could go back to your place.”
I gave him my most seductive smile. He’d rejected me and I still wasn’t getting the message. I’ll never live down the humiliation I felt that night.
“I guess,” he said.
*
I FELT SILLY WHEN WE got to Rob’s apartment. It was obvious he was a bachelor, but the drawer in his bedside table was full of condoms, and I spotted a woman’s thong on the floor in the bathroom.
He was a player. He slept around. And again it hit me, how pathetic he’d made me feel, practically begging him to take me here to his bed. How had that happened? Had he planned it. Had he manipulated the situation so that it would end up that way? All that talk about how I wasn’t as perfect as the women at his clinic, was that a way of knocking down my confidence and getting me back to his place, feeling like this?
I was lying in my underwear, between sheets that still had the faint trace of perfume on them from his last conquest, and I waited for him to come out of the bathroom.
The wine was beginning to wear off, and with it, some of my natural shyness was beginning to come back. I pulled the sheets up around me and shivered. The apartment was expensive, but spartan and poorly decorated. The bedroom was cold and stark. It felt like a motel room.
What the hell was taking him so long? A minute passed, then another. Then five minutes passed.
“Rob,” I called at last.
No answer. I got up and went to the bathroom door, my underwear doing nothing to protect me from the chilly air. Why was the apartment so cold? Didn’t he turn on the heat?
I was about to knock on the door when I heard talking. What was going on? I put my head to the door and listened. He was on the phone. I couldn’t make out the words, I couldn’t tell who he was talking to, but he was definitely on the phone.
I thought I heard him say the words, “I’ll pay you back soon. I’ve got a plan. Just give me a few more weeks.”
It sounded like maybe he was in debt. Then he hung up and turned on the shower.
I sighed and went back to the bed. It was just after midnight. You want to know how long it was before Rob finally emerged from the bathroom? It was twenty-five minutes. If it wasn’t so cold in his bedroom, I’d have been fast asleep.
Rob was naked apart from a towel wrapped around his waist. His body was nice, but not as masculine as I liked. He was in good shape, well sculpted, but it was almost as if he was too manicured. I wondered if he shaved the hair from his chest and legs. His muscles were nicely formed but weren’t large.
“Are you ready?”
I guessed I was ready. I’d begged him to bring me there. I’d waited twenty-five minutes for him while he showered. I was ready. But what I really wanted to know, was who had he been talking to on the phone? Who did he owe money to? And how much?
I nodded.
He came over to the bed, the towel still around his waist, and pulled down the sheets. I shivered as he revealed my body. I looked down at myself. My voluptuous breasts were held nicely in their black lace bra. My panties matched. I looked good. But my mind raced over the millions of imperfections I was sure he was seeing.
I waited for him to say I was beautiful. Would it have killed him to say that? Even if he didn’t mean it? Just to put my mind at ease a little?
Instead, he said, “Pass me a condom, would you?”
I reached into the drawer by the bed and grabbed one from his stash. He was sitting over me, his legs straddling my body, and he finally took the towel from his waist and revealed himself to me.
Don’t compare him to Grant, I told myself. Don’t compare him to Grant.
But it was too late. My mind instantly made the comparison. Rob was smaller. He was also less confident. His cock was semi-hard, and hung from him lifelessly.
“Want me to suck it?” I offered.
He didn’t answer. He ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth and tried to put it over his flaccid dick.
I reached up and touched him, but when my hand met his cock, he flinched. It was as if he didn’t want to be touched. I felt painfully awkward. His cock wasn’t hard and there was no way the condom was going onto it in that state.
“Let me suck it,” I said again.
The sound of my voice sickened me. This was nothing like that passionate night in the barn with Grant.
That was sex. This was an awkward, sloppy, drunken mistake. I should have known better. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I shouldn’t have been putting myself into situations like this. It would take weeks for my self-esteem to recover from this.
“Just turn around,” he said.
I nodded. Anything to make the situation less embarrassing. He got off me and I turned around and got on my hands and knees. I waited to feel his hands on me but they never came. I turned around and saw that he was stroking his cock, masturbating, trying to make it hard.
“Maybe we drank too much,” I said.