TWENTY-ONE
Dalt
“What did you choose? What are you in the mood for?” Nikki asks as she comes bouncing into the room.
Okay. Maybe she’s not actually bouncing, but in my full to the brim of happiness mind, she’s bouncing. I’m stretched out on the sofa, fumbling with the remote but not thinking about television shows. My thoughts are consumed by everything Nikki. When she asks me what I’m in the mood for, my love-saturated brain thinks she’s asking me what kind of sex I want: missionary, oral, doggie style. Can’t help it. When I’m with her, and even when I’m not, all I can think about is the next time I can be between her legs. Fingers, tongue, cock, doesn’t matter, as long as I’m there.
“What did you say?”
“What are you in the mood for? Comedy, action, horror?”
She’s wearing leggings with pictures of Archie comic book characters on them and a cropped loose t-shirt, one side of it slipping down her arm, revealing her soccer ball tattoo. Her pebbled nipples are standing at attention, making it apparent she’s not wearing a bra. Her hair is twisted into a long braid which is hanging over one shoulder, almost to the exposed skin at her waist. The way she’s tilting her head has the braid swaying over her breasts, like the pendulum of a clock counting down the seconds before I’m sucking on those rosy tips and peeling Archie and Veronica down her legs.
“Oh. Right. I don’t know. Whatever you want.”
“I don’t care as long as it’s not a chick flick.”
“No shit? You used to love those. How many times did you make me watch The Notebook?” The first time it was pretty good. Even the second time wasn’t bad. But Nikki had it downloaded on her computer and I swear we watched it every weekend for months.
“It’s still one of my favorites,” she swoons. Damn. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. “But Tracey and Dak are on a romance watching binge lately. And if I have to watch one more episode of Outlander I’m going to strangle myself with one of those Scottish kilts.”
“Outlander? Is that a romance? I thought it was a docudrama about Scottish warriors. Isn’t it the show with all the dudes in skirts cutting each other up with swords?”
“Docudrama?” She squinches her face. “Yeah, right. It’s the show with all the sexy Scots wearing skirts sans undies, which makes their ‘love snakes’ easily accessible and the likelihood of all kinds of hot and heavy love scenes occurring in every episode. It’s a chick show hiding underneath yards of plaid.” Nikki plops down next to me.
“Wait. Are you kidding me right now? I walked in Dak’s room the other night and he was watching it. As soon as he saw me he slammed his computer closed but I had already seen the dudes in skirts battling.”
I stop to think for a second. I know he didn’t say it was romance. I’d seen a commercial for the show a few days before and it looked pretty good. I asked him if it I should stream it. He said something about it being a dope historical docudrama all about Scotland’s war with England, bloody and gruesome. But he didn’t suggest I watch it. Just said he was tired and he’d finish watching it the next day.
“That sly dog. He never mentioned it was a lovey-dovey chick show. So, captain, my captain watches chick shows.” I laugh at the thought of Andersen curled up and watching schmaltzy chick flicks.
“Watches it? He convinced Trace it’s one of the greatest shows on television. They never miss it. And they even binged watched the first two seasons to ‘refresh’ their memories of the plot.” Nikki air quotes the word refresh.
“Oh man.” I fall back in a fit of laughter. “Just wait ‘til I talk to that fucker. He is so not getting away with this.”
“Don’t come down on him too hard. It is kinda’ cute the way they cuddle together watching a show they both love.”
“Cuddling to a show they both love, huh? Alien!”
We shout in unison. “Sy-fy it is.”
“I’ll grab us a couple of waters while you find it. Or you want a beer?” Nik asks on her way to the kitchen.
“Water’s good. I’m saving room for our dessert.”
The one I’m going to smear all over your body and lick off.
“I could only find the second one in the series,” I inform Nikki as she rejoins me on the sofa.
“Since we can practically recite the dialogue from the first one, second’s good.” Nik’s fave romance may have been The Notebook, but our mutually favorite sci-fi, when we were together was Alien. We’d yell out lines like groupies at a Rocky Horror Show festival.
About twenty minutes into the movie Nikki has a revelation. “I just realized how dumb Ripley was to not know Carter was screwing her over.”
“What do ya mean?”
“Think about it. He swears to annihilate the aliens but then when they find them he won’t let her destroy them. Red flag much?”
“Hmm. Yeah, never thought about it.”
Nikki is curled into the curve of my arm. She starts making little circles on my bare chest while pondering Ripley’s dilemma. I never bother with a shirt when I’m relaxing. Sweats and no shirt, the most comfortable way to roll.
“How would a smart woman like her not have figured out she was being played by the company?” She runs her fingers over my pecs in absent-minded strokes.
“Hmm…yeah…she…she was…pretty fucking amazing.” Nikki picks her head up, aware of the weird breathy way I’m answering her question. Her fingers stop stroking my chest.
Fuck. Don’t stop.
She glances at my tented sweats, hops up from the sofa, and heads toward the kitchen. “Just a second. I’ll be right back.” I readjust my hard shaft who’s begging for another Nikki fix.
“Time for dessert,” Nikki announces, coming back in the room with a bowl and spoon in her hand.
“You’re the only dessert I want, babe.” She can’t miss the confirmation of that statement inside my sweats.
“Just what I had in mind,” she says, sliding the coffee table away from the sofa and dropping to her knees in front of me.
“Nik?” I’m not sure what’s going on but I say a little prayer she’s thinking the same thing I’m thinking.
She puts the bowl on the floor next to her knees and tugs at the elastic of my pants. “These have to come off, please.” So polite. It’s only right I agree to help her out by lifting my hips. She slides my sweats down my legs in a slow, drawn out movement. My hopeful cock waves in front of her face. Her eyes meet mine and she sweeps her tongue over her lips in anticipation.
Damn.
I have to stop my hips from pushing up into her face.
“Tell me if this is too hot.” Oh, it’s too hot alright. Explosive heat is already pulsing through my cock. She picks up the bowl and spoon and drizzles warm, gooey caramel and chocolate down my throbbing shaft.
Holy fuck!
“Mmm.” She licks her lips. “Is it okay?”
I nod, unable to speak, like a happy puppy being given a treat. She wraps her slim fingers around my throbbing erection. When she flicks her tongue over the head of my dick, taking a slow lap to taste me and the warm sweetness, my head drops back against the sofa.
“Fuck me. Nik.”
“Oh, we’ll get to that.” Her words flutter over my tip, causing my balls to tighten.
She flattens her tongue and licks at the sensitive spot just under my head.
“Fuck.” I choke out and I feel her lips smile around me.
She fists her hand, sticky with syrupy sauce, around my base, and starts taking long, slow licks from my base to my tip to lap at the sugary sweetness. My thighs tremble in response. She moves her hand back and forth, pumping me into a frenzy. When she relaxes her throat to open wider for me and takes me all the way in, deep throating me, working me up and down, sucking, licking and gently nibbling, I lace my fingers through her hair to slow her movement. I want to make this last.
“Nik, baby,” I groan, fighting the rush that’s building inside me.
“Hmm?” The sound vibrates my shaft. When she lifts her passion filled eyes, the sight of her eating me with such fervent pleasure intensifies the sensation of the imminent orgasm getting ready to explode down her throat.
“You’re too much. It’s too much. I’m gonna come, babe.” I tighten the fingers in her hair to keep her from moving but she ignores my warning. She sucks harder, swallowing me, taking me in deeper, eating me like she’s a chocolate addict and I’m her fix.
“Oh, fuck. Nik. Yes. Fuuuck.” I let go with a bone deep growl of pleasure and with such force, it leaves me gasping. Nik keeps making breathy moans of arousal while swallowing blasts of my warmth until my cock stops jerking in release.
After licking every last drop off my tip, she sits back on her heels. “Mmm. That was the best dessert I’ve ever had.”
I reach down and scoop her up onto my lap. Finding her lips, I kiss her hard, tasting the mixture of chocolate caramel and me on her lips.
I can’t stop kissing her and nibbling at her in between whispering her name. “Nikki.”
I suck her bottom lip between my teeth. “Nikki.” I let go and trail my lips down the length of her neck. She drops her head back and giggles. “Nikki,” I whisper into her ear.
“Yes, hockey boy?”
“My turn for dessert.”