*****
“I have something for you,” I breathed as sexily as I could into his ear, holding his face in my hands. Adam’s hands gripped my jean clad ass as I straddled him, sat on the edge of our couch. Stacy had stayed out with the others but, as the night had worn on, they disappeared off around the Riverwalk bars and Adam and I decided to steal home. We’d almost fallen into the apartment, making out furiously as he’d struggled with the key in the lock.
The door had opened onto our modest yet comfortable living room, with its low couch below the second-floor window, the single chair to the side, and the TV on its stand that faced them both. The walls were white-painted brick and the floor was wood, while our mostly unused kitchenette took up the enclave by the front door.
The bar we’d been drinking in was right below us, so we hadn’t had to come far, but it still felt too far to the bedroom for me. I’d dragged him to the couch and crawled into his lap, moaning loudly as his tongue explored my mouth.
“Oh, yeah?” he breathed. “What do you have?”
I climbed up off him and left him sat there, his shirt untucked where I’d pulled it out, and his belt and the button of his jeans undone. I silently stepped away into the bedroom and pulled the cardboard box I’d been saving out from under the bed. I held up the sexy, lacy black bustier, a tiny black thong, some sheer black stockings with garters, and a pair of red stiletto heels. I couldn’t ignore the erotic tingle that ran through my body as I slipped on the naughty underwear, my skin almost singing in anticipation of the look I’d see on his face and the merciless pounding I was sure to receive.
I took a good look at myself in my huge vanity mirror and decided I looked almost good enough to eat. The bustier pushed my full yet modest boobs up, cinched in nicely at my waist, and stopped to leave a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, flat stomach before it disappeared behind my thong. The stockings and shoes elongated my slim legs and I felt like the world’s most expensive hooker. I was ready to blow his mind. I took a deep breath headed back out. Adam turned to see me as soon as I stepped back into the living room and his jaw dropped.
“Holy shit, Paige,” he almost stuttered, “you look amazing. What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing,” I smiled, slinking toward him. “It’s just been a little while and I miss you. I know we promised Stacy we’d never fuck on her couch, so I decided that when we did, we’d make it memorable.”
“I’m sure I’m not going to forget this for a long time,” he muttered as I stood before him. I felt his soft breath on the sensitive skin just above my panty line a fraction of a second before his lips touched, sending shivers of pleasure across my skin and forcing a deep sigh from my lungs. I closed my eyes and let my fingers wander through his hair, as I felt his hands sliding up the backs of my thighs. His fingertips passing the material of the stockings to trace over the bare skin of my buttocks brought a slight gasp from me as well, and I pushed him back on the couch so I could lower myself into his lap.
I slipped my hands up under his T-shirt, running my touch over his beautifully defined abs and pecs, lifting it up so I would be able to feel his hot skin on mine when we actually got down to sex. He obliged me by slipping it up over his head, while my hands went down to his pants. I drew down his zipper and pulled his jeans apart, reaching inside to find him.
He groaned in pleasure as I made contact, but I was confused. We’d made love countless times in the years we’d been together and I knew how he felt when he was fully aroused. I could feel the heat from him and there was some life in his cock, but it was a long way from his usual, iron-hard readiness. Not again, I thought to myself, please, God!
Maybe he was just warming up, I decided. I pulled his mouth to my chest and he began eating at my cleavage, the bustier slipping enough so a proud, pink nipple could work its way free and fall between his hot lips. Still, though, I could feel very little happening between his legs. I quickly stood and kicked his thighs apart, like a dominating stripper, and kneeled down. With my stocking covered knees on the wood and my nearly naked ass in the air, I took his almost limp dick into my mouth and sucked, running my lips up and down him. Still nothing.
“God, I want you so bad!” I whispered, hoping it might tease some life into him. After a few more quick tugs that confirmed he was only getting smaller, I pulled myself away from him. “Are you okay, baby?” I asked. Sure, I was frustrated, but I cared more about his feelings. Plus, making him feel bad about it wasn’t going to help.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he gave me a weak smile, “it must be the beer. I’ve been drinking since lunchtime.”
“And yesterday?” I asked, getting up and sitting beside him on the couch. Again, I was trying not to sound pissed, but my confidence was taking a blow.
“I was tired,” he snapped, sounding defensive. He got up and walked toward the bedroom door.
I didn’t want to fight, I wanted to be with him. “I’m sorry, baby, but it’s been months since we’ve been together. I know things have been tough lately, but I’m starting to think it’s me.”
He stopped at the bedroom door and turned back to me. “Paige,” he said, “you are beautiful and so sexy. Please believe it’s not you.” He held his hand out to me and I knew we were going to bed to go to sleep. “We’ll work it out, I promise.”
My heart sank lower aswe undressed and got under the sheet. Adam was asleep in moments, leaving me staring at the ceiling, feeling insecure,tense, and horny. I killed me how much we loved hanging out, how much everyone was envious of us and what we seemed to have, and that it all felt like a lie. At first, it wasn’t so bad. He was too tired, or worried about a test, but the days turned into weeks, then months, and we’d pretty much stopped trying. That’s why I’d spent three hundred dollars on sexy underwear. I loved him and I needed him. We were planning our wedding, for God’s sake. I only hoped this was a glitch.