I spent all of my free time with Ali, taking time off work though I knew they were busy. My staff was competent, and good at what they did; I had no doubt that they would put out a publication that all of us could be proud of. I went there as needed, but most of the time I couldn’t help but spend my mornings with Ali, in bed together, fulfilling every fantasy we had. I couldn’t get enough of her—her soft, lush body, the way she moaned when she came all over my cock or in my mouth. I craved the sweet feeling of her riding my face, letting herself go, losing her self-consciousness and giving in to her pleasure.

We were watching a movie, her legs in my lap, and she turned the TV off as the credits started to roll.

“Finally,” I said, moving on top of her. I had tried to get her to play while it was going but she had told me never to interrupt a horror movie. Still, she teased me, rubbing her legs together, occasionally leaning over to share hot kisses that always left me on edge.

“Tyler,” she said. “Hold on.”

I stopped kissing her, lingering on top of her but not trying to touch. I gave her a concerned look. “What is it?” I asked her.

“Why—why are we doing this?” she asked. I sat up, then, and she sat up to, facing me on the couch with a shy look on her face.

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“Why are you interested in me?” she asked. “I’m not—I’m not like the women you’re usually around. I don’t get why you spend so much time with me.”

I peered at her, rubbing my hand over my mouth.

“Do you know how perfect you are?” I asked her. She blushed deeply, looking away from me.

“I’m not perfect,” she muttered. I took her chin, tilting her face toward mine.

“You are absolutely breathtaking, Ali,” he said. “I’ve never met anybody like you. You’re stubborn and funny and ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” she asked, smiling.

“Yes,” I said. “Afraid of the dark but doesn’t mind watching people get stabbed to death.”

She laughed. “It’s fun.”

“I know it is,” I said. “And that’s why I like you. You’re weird as hell. I’m surprised you like me.”

“Who said I like you?” she asked, a teasing look in her eyes. I kissed her neck, then her shoulder, pulling the strap of her dress down to reveal one of her bare breasts. I loved it when she went braless—I knew that meant she was wearing no panties, either, that she hadn’t expected to need them when she came over here. I slid my hand up her dress, cupping her soaking wet pussy.

“Just a feeling,” I said to her, grinning. She shivered against my palm, pulling her hips away.

“I think you’re flattering yourself,” she said. There was a playful look in her eye, challenging and achingly sexy.

“Oh?” I asked her. She nodded, a small smile on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest, covering her breasts, both of which had spilled out of the dress she was wearing.

“I don’t like you all that much,” she said in a faux haughty voice, her nose in the air. I chuckled, leaning forward, brushing my lips against hers.

“Yet you love it when I fuck that pretty little pussy, don’t you?”

“Hmm,” she said as I sucked her bottom lip. She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s okay.”

“Just okay?” I asked her, pouting. I kissed her again, hot and filthy, my hand on her throat as I tilted her head back and planted a kiss on it. “Not absolutely perfect?”

“It could be better,” she breathed as I pulled her arms down, holding them still beside her. I looked down at her breasts, pale and round, her large pink nipples which here hard and ready to be touched. I ran my hand through her hair then, gathering it my fist, pulling her hair back so that her chest was thrust forward to me. Her breathing grew shallow, her body squirming as I took her nipple between my lips and gently sank my teeth into it.

“I guess I’ll have to try harder,” I said to her. “What do you think?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding as I kissed her breasts, feeling like fucking her in a dirty way, making her moan, making her beg. I brought my mouth to her, biting her lip, tugging on it and letting it pop back into place. She stared at me with a sweet, pleading look. I kissed her jaw, bringing my lips to her ear.

“I want you bent over this couch when I get back,” I said to her in a commanding tone that made her shiver in just the way I knew it would. I slipped off the couch and into my room, grabbing a condom. My cock somehow grew harder as I went back into the living room to see her bent over the arm of the couch with her full, luscious ass in the air. She looked at me over her shoulder, biting her lip, and I rolled the condom on before positioning myself behind her. I looked down to see that her pussy was dripping, that the tops of her thighs were coated with her juices. Her lower lips were pink and swollen, desperate to be fucked. I slipped a finger inside of her and she whimpered as I pulled it out, spreading her wetness to her throbbing, needy clit. I circled around it, not touching it, ignoring her pleading moan as I pushed my finger back inside of her, pumping it in and out. She humped against it, sighing in relief when a second finger joined the first. 

“I’m not even fucking you yet,” I said to her, fingering her tight, perfect pussy. “And you’re telling me this pussy isn’t mine? That it could be better?”

She nodded, her eyes on mine as she looked back at me.

“Yes,” she said. I pulled my fingers out of her, rubbing her clit, straddling it and touching either side. I never touched it directly—I wanted to drag this out, to make her desperate. I wanted to make her admit that her body was made for me, that nobody had ever fucked her better and nobody ever would.

I felt her shudder, her pussy trembling as her hips started to grind against my hand, making me rub her clit harder, faster. She started to pant, chewing on her lip, and I pulled my hand away from her just before she could come. She whimpered in frustration, looking back at me again.

“Tyler,” she said, wiggling her ass in the air for me. I brought my hand down on the right side of her ass, not too hard, just enough to make her jump.

“I don’t think I like your attitude tonight, Ali,” I said to her, then spanked the other side of her ass, harder this time. “In fact, I think you’re being awfully rude.”

“I told you, I don’t even like you,” she said. I laughed, spanking her again, then again. With my free hand, I gripped my cock, pressing it to her pussy lips and rubbing her slit up and down, pressing it against her clit for only an instant at a time. She pressed backward, trying to get me to fill her up, but I only teased her opening by pushing in an inch or two. I pulled back from her every time she tried to take me deeper, making her nearly growl in frustration.

“Do you want it, Ali? Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

“I thought it wasn’t all that great?” I asked, pressing inside of her slightly again, pulling away within going deep.

“It’s—it’s,” she panted, filled with desperation. I spanked her again and she moaned, her ass growing a delicious red.

“Say it,” I said to her.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed, looking back at me. “Please.”

“What’s perfect?”

“When you fuck me. Your cock,” she said to me.

“God,” I breathed, and couldn’t resist entering then, pressing in slow and deep. I grinded my hips against hers for a moment, rubbing against the back of her pussy. Ali squirmed against me, taking me deep, her pussy clenching around me. I started to fuck her in and out slowly, moving my hips in long strokes. I pulled all the way out every time, then pushed in again full-force, making her lose her breath. She tried to squirm back, to get me to move faster, but I refused. I took my time moving in and out of her pussy, filling her up and stretching her out.

“Fuck you,” she said when I pulled out of her just before she came again, squirming in frustration on the couch. I laughed and swatted her ass, pushing inside of her again, beginning to fuck her hard and rough.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, grabbing her hair again, arching her back. I had one hand on her hip, digging into the ample flesh there, pulling her against me as I drove into her hard. I had never felt such a tight, responsive pussy before, never felt anybody come as hard as she did when I reached down and rubbed her clit with my free hand, covering it with my fingers, giving her as much pleasure as possible. As usual, she didn’t slow down when she came. She was the greediest girl I knew, always wanting more, to come again and again. I was glad to oblige her, and I continued my hard pounding as I played with her clit indirectly, waiting until it wasn’t too sensitive to rub again.

“Do you like me?” I asked as I fucked her.

“Yes,” she said. I grinned, kissing her cheek, biting into the back of her neck as I made her come again. I came only a few minutes later, unable to stop myself, jerking inside of her until I was finished. I pulled out a few seconds later, kneeling down, rubbing her ass with my hands. She turned around then, smiling at me with a flirty look on her face, one that made me desperate to kiss her. I took her mouth in a soft kiss, then deeper as I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her onto the couch with me. I stared into her eyes, pushing her damp curls back from her forehead.

“You’re beautiful,” I said. “I want you to know how beautiful you are. Always.”

She smiled, kissing me.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’d better get home.”

I nodded reluctantly, knowing that she needed to get to work on her new recipe but not wanting to see her leave. I kissed her one more time and watched as she got dressed, her dress flowing over her body perfectly, making her look just as decadent as when she was naked. I watched her leave, then went into the kitchen to grab something to eat. I had no idea what to do with myself now that she was gone—I had gotten used to spending all my time with Ali, but the last time I had helped her with a recipe, she had accidentally burnt it while I licked her pussy on the kitchen counter. Since then, she had banned me from being in the kitchen with her while she was trying new recipes, and though I didn’t regret pleasuring her, I wished I could join her again. I loved seeing Ali cook, how she lit up, how good she was at her job.

I ate by myself, watching TV, flipping through the channels in boredom. Ali was on my mind, and I wondered what she was doing, imagined her humming to herself like she sometimes did when she thought I wasn’t listening. Just the thought of it made me smile, and despite her barring me from her kitchen, I decided to go over just to say hi. I told myself that it would be quick and I wouldn’t try to distract her, but I knew I couldn’t guarantee that I would be so tempted to touch her that I couldn’t help myself.

I went over to her apartment, not wanting to surprise her, entering without knocking. I was heading toward the kitchen when I heard voices in the dining room—a man’s voice raised in anger. I crept forward, glancing through the crack in the door to see Ali in the room with her arms over her chest, an angry look on her face. She was standing with two people—a man and a woman—staring at them with something close to hatred in her eyes.

“I don’t need this from you,” Ali spat. “This is all you ever do when I invite you over. I don’t see why you can’t just be happy for me.”

“You’re not taking care of yourself, Ali,” the man said. “You’re clearly overweight—”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Ali said. “I’m not—”

“We just think you should stop eating all of that southern food,” the woman said. “Your sister doesn’t eat meat anymore at all. You should see how thin she is.”

“I don’t care how thin Alissa is,” Ali said. “I just want to live my life.”

I felt anger building within me, fury at their words.

“It’s just so disappointing,” Ali’s mother said. “If you weren’t so fat, maybe you could find a man like your sister.”

I burst through the door then, unable to take it anymore, sweeping across the room to Ali.

“Tyler,” she said, her eyes meeting mine. I looked over, glaring at her parents.

“I don’t care who you are,” I said to them. “Don’t ever insult her like that again. Ali is the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life.”

A delighted smile spread over her father’s face and her mother had a look of excitement in her eyes. She eyed Ali, looking her up and down.

“We’re glad you have a boyfriend. Finally,” said her mother. “But honey—are you sure you don’t want to lose weight? He’s a good-looking man.”

“He could get somebody thinner,” her father said. I gritted my teeth in anger, glaring at both of them.

“I don’t want anybody thinner. I want somebody perfect. I want Ali,” I said. “The woman that I plan to marry doesn’t need to be thin. Her body is incredible. She is perfect. And if you ever insult her again, I will throw you out of here myself.”

I felt Ali’s eyes on me, and turned to see that there was a stunned look on her face. I met her eye, a question there, then looked at her parents. They both look affronted, and for a moment I thought her dad would hit me. I could see malice there, an anger that he took out on his daughter for no reason. There was no way I was going to stand for it. I tilted my chin up, looking him in the eye, challenging him to try me. He took a step back, though, and exchanged a glance with his wife.

“I guess we’ll get out of here,” he said, his chest puffed out, a huffy look on his face.

“Good,” I said to them, staring them down until they turned to leave, leaving me alone with Ali.