Dahlia

I didn’t think it was possible to be even more attracted to Chet than I already was, but then he came into my office, looking his normal dashing self in that suit and carrying that stupid rose. I had been so afraid to tell him the secret of my sex life, but he took it like a champ. By the time that conversation was over, I was sure that I was going to have sex with him anyway, and that's the irony of the whole thing. But now that it was all out, I wanted to take this time to get to know him. The thought of a relationship loomed overhead, and now that that word was in play, I didn’t want to just throw it away by stretching myself too far emotionally. What if we did it and he decided that I didn’t live up to his expectations? What if he ended up not liking me after all? What if he was lying and I was just a slightly more complicated trivial pursuit? or worse, what if he was unsure about his feelings and hadn’t even really realized it yet?

God there were so many unknowns. But as I brushed my teeth that night, I stared at myself in my bathroom mirror, at my face, the high cheekbones, the pointed jaw, at my wide eyes, red rims forming around them because I was just so damn tired, I couldn’t help but wonder about what he would look like with his clothes off.

I pulled my thick hair into a ponytail and splashed some cold water on my face, dabbing it with my face towel afterward. I had to stop thinking about him this way. Obsessing about a guy was never a good idea. I just needed to calm down and take it slow, just like I had promised him I would, and just like we had both agreed we would. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said about it being sad about my sexuality. I had never thought about it that way. Being a doctor, I knew more than most about sexuality and I couldn’t say that he was wrong. I had been depriving myself all these years, surrounding myself with people like James and my mother who were perfectly fine to watch me do it, or even aide in it themselves. The whole thing was disgusting.

I turned off my bathroom light and scurried to my bedroom, sliding into bed and pulling the covers up all the way to my chin. October was well underway, and there was a surprising chill in the air. Well, surprising to me because I had always had this preconceived notion that Texas was like a hot plate with tumble weed on it. But my mind was changing about that.

My mind was changing about a lot of things.

In the next instant, I was thinking about Chet again. My vulva swelled, wetness seeping through as I thought about him in my office earlier that week. Now that I was alone and horny, I internally kicked myself for letting that opportunity just slip through my fingers. He looked so perfect in that suit and those black pants that made his lean, tall body look even leaner and tall. I remembered that bulge protruding from them, just out there for me to see.

My mouth watered as I thought about the way he put me on that desk, pressing his hips against me. I could practically feel his cock hardening through my pants.

I reached down under the covers and touched myself as I imagined the sensation of his lips on my neck, sucking on my flesh, his tongue drawing figure eights on my skin. I imagined myself running my hands through his perfect hair as his kisses drew lower and lower, his stubble scratching me ever so slightly as he pressed his nose into my cleavage, his hands slipping my blazer off.

I imagined him unbuttoning my blouse, slowly, sensually, maddeningly, exposing my bra-encased breasts as I reached down and slipped my hands into his pants, grabbing his cock. I imagined it would have gerth, feel thick in my hand, as I stroked it. I could practically hear his moans as I rubbed myself, shoving my fingers inside of myself, my toes curling at the pleasure.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I imagined him flipping my breasts out of my bra, one hand cupping my boob as he took it in his mouth, sucking on it while he flicked my nipple with his tongue. First the left one, then the right one.

My nipples hardened as I fingered myself, my jaw hanging open in the pleasure. With a sigh, I came and rolled over in my bed.

***

The next morning marked the fourth day since I had seen Chet and he hadn’t called or texted or shown up in my office. I held my phone in my hand as I stood in the elevator on the way in, wondering if it would have been a good idea to text or call him myself. But I didn’t want to do that. The jury was still out on whether he meant everything he had said and I was terrified to find out what the verdict would be.

Once the elevator stopped on my floor, I stepped out and made my way to the office. I rummaged around in my bag for another ten seconds while I looked for the keys, but finally found them and stuck them into the door handle. After I had let myself in, my eyes widened as the door shut behind me. I gazed across the room. It was completely evident that Chet had showered my entire office with flowers.

My dark, hardwood floor was covered in red and white rose petals. The large bay window on the right was lined with bouquets that expanded the entire window-seal. The small couch in the right corner had mini bouquets that were wrapped in little ribbons. I sighed, my heart inflating as I set my purse down on the sofa and stepped behind my desk. Sure enough, there was a note taped to my computer monitor.

“If this doesn’t say courtship, I don’t know what does. But if you’re still not convinced, why don’t you join my mother and me for breakfast tomorrow. I’m determined to make her see you the way I do. -CB”

My eyes widened as I sunk into the chair. This was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me.

But his mother?

Didn’t she hate me?