CHRIS
I had the hottest sex dream last night; actually, it was a sexy nightmare. No, the sex wasn’t what made it a nightmare, the girl wasn’t what made it a nightmare—Red made it incredible—but it was everything else that made it a nightmare. She was dressed in this barely there, black lace nightie and ‘fuck me’ garter. The sex was hot, carnal, and sweaty. I was so into her that it took me a minute to realize we were actually in my duplex, no longer at the house, and the instant I did, all hell broke loose. Instant twilight zone type shit. Red had been on top of me, about to make me fucking lose it. Looking up at her over her shoulder, I saw MJ standing at the foot of the bed crying and screaming, but only I couldn’t hear him. Immediately I lunged forward, unfortunately causing Red to head-butt me, breaking her nose. At the sight of blood, I startled awake. When I realized what had happened between us, it really messed me up. I didn’t know what parts were real and what parts I dreamt. Obviously, the nose breaking and MJ screaming part didn’t happen, but the sex, what was real?
Waking up after a sexy fucked up dream, in an insanely sexy, but equally fucked up, position is just wrong. Her moans kept echoing in my mind so much that I had to take a shower and shake that shit off. I couldn’t shake off the dread of MJ walking in on me, but at the same time, listening to this girl moan made it hard to focus on anything else. I’m pressed against the same girl right now and have been for most of the day. Thank fuck we were able to kill the awkward from this morning because I can’t keep my hands off her. It only seemed right to slow things down after last night, though. I told her that I planned to spend the day trying not to fuck her; little did I know how much those words would bite me in the ass. Red seems to have completely let go, and now, she’s turned this into some sort of tortuous competition. I’ve kept my word by walking away every time things get too hot, but she’s made it her mission to break me, and I’m too stubborn to give in. I told her that instead, I’d make her want to come so bad that she’d beg me to fuck her; she said: “game on”. So yeah, today has been pretty interesting.
We were already drawn to each other, but that heat has cranked up like a million degrees, and the visions from my dream aren’t making it any fucking easier.
Red and I stopped for burgers. When she stood from the booth and said she was going to the bathroom, I playfully followed her. I was actually planning to go to the men’s room, but the way she kissed me before entering the bathroom, following her inside seemed like the better plan.
Her soft moans hum through the small space as my tongue trails over her collarbone. The strings that are supposed to be holding her halter top up are hanging loosely. I kiss my way down toward her nipples and take one in my mouth, causing her back to arch as she squeezes her thighs together. The sound she makes turns me to steel. It’s soft, breathy, almost a moan, but almost a plea. I’m getting so lost in her taste and in her sounds. My heart is beating so fast, she has to feel it, but she seems too focused on trying not to moan.
“People, Liz,” she whispers to herself. “Old ladies and kids… old ladies and kids,” she gulps. “How wrong it would be to just start moaning all loud, confusing the kids and scaring the old ladies?”
She’s cute, and I can’t help but chuckle.
I pull her against my lips and kiss my way down her body. When I make it to her sexy little belly button, I slowly lick circles around it, causing her to tremble. I fucking love how good she feels. I will break her. I will break her, or I will break myself. The way she’s breathing and rubbing my head makes me think of something better I could be doing with my tongue. That line though, I won’t cross—I can’t. I’m not strong enough. I know I’ll completely lose it if I touch her there, because I know what it would do to her, and I know what that would do to me.
She bites the inside of her jaw, closes her eyes, and leans her head against the wall.
“Chris…” she moans.
Fucking hell.
Okay, I lied. Not only will crossing the panty line make me lose it, her moaning my name just might get her fucked. I may need to prepare to disengage.
She squeezes my biceps to steady herself, but when I dip my tongue in her belly button, a loud satisfied “Mmmmm,” leaves her lips. Her eyes fly open, and her head snaps down.
The ‘oh shit’ expression plays on her face, and I grin playfully then immediately stand, kissing her.
“Too… intense?” I tease, smiling against her lips.
“Shut up,” she says. I chuckle, and she moves, backing me against the wall on the other side of the room.
We quickly become lost in each other—panting, kissing, sucking, and groping… all things that shouldn’t go on in a public restroom. After a few minutes, I hear a light tapping sound and we freeze in place.
Knocking… someone is fucking knocking on the door.
I immediately look at the door to see if the person is trying to come inside, even though I know the door is locked.
“Hello?” I hear a little squeak of a voice from the other side of the door. It’s a kid, a little boy.
Shit, do we ignore the kid? Let the kid piss himself? That’s wrong. Fuck. How awkward will it be if we both leave the bathroom together, all flushed and sweaty and walk straight into a confused five-year-old?
Her eyes are as big as saucers, and I match her ‘oh shit’ expression as I try hard not to laugh.
“But Mommy tells me to use the girl’s bathroom,” the small squeaky voice says.
Yes, kid, go away!
A man’s voice tells the kid to use the boy’s room and, after a few seconds, we hear the men’s room door close.
We both continue to stare at each other, wide-eyed, and then we laugh quietly. That is definitely our cue to get the hell out of this bathroom. As we return to our booth, I notice the light in her eyes, she looks as starved as I feel, and neither of us wants food. I’m curious as to how much longer this will go on. I just may have met my match in the stubborn as shit department. Most of our near misses today have ended with me walking away, but she almost broke down in the car, earlier. We decided to go for a walk in the park, about a mile from my house. It didn’t take us long to realize that it was a horrible idea. Hangovers and sun do not mix, so we hopped back in the car, laid the seats back, and cranked up the music.
We talked about all kinds of things, like how she likes putting ranch on her pizza, and how the smell of bleach makes her happy.
“It reminds me of my grandmother,” she said with smiling eyes.
“Grandma used too much bleach, but those cool sheets felt great in the summer.”
She laughed and covered her face. “Does that make me weird?” she blushed.
“No,” I told her. She just dropped her hands and smiled.
“If it makes you feel better, I like the smell of new shoes. I smell them right out of the box.”
“Aw. Did your grandfather own a shoe shop or something?”
“No. I’m just weird.”
We both laughed.
She was quiet for a while after that. Bruno Mars “When I was your Man” played, and I felt the urge to turn it off as I watched hints of the sad, sexy girl I met at the bar make an appearance for the first time this weekend. I didn’t turn it off, though; I stayed quiet and watched her look at everything and nothing.
“So, how does this work?” she said a few minutes after the song ended.
“How does what work?”
“The casual sex.”
My brows knit. True, we’ve been all over each other, so I’m not surprised she’s thinking about it; I’m just surprised she asked. I’ve never had anyone ask me that before; it’s cute.
“Well, very simple. We get together, work off some deep-seeded lust, and bam, instant high, all is right with the world.” I smile.
She laughs and slaps my chest playfully.
“No, seriously. I’ve never done this before. There has to be rules, right? What’s sex buddy code?”
I chuckle.
“Never. Like never ever?”
“Never ever. I’ve always been in a relationship,” she says, looking embarrassed, and I’m not sure why.
“Well, sexy, what type of code should we have?”
She’s quiet for a beat, then sits up straight, clears her throat, and holds up one finger.
“One code: No lying. I can’t tell you not to mess around with other girls, but if you do, don’t lie to me about it. I’m not a fan of itching and burning in my nether regions, and I don’t like being put in uncomfortable situations.”
My brows shoot up, I didn’t expect her to be so forward.
“I’m not a fan of itching and burning in any region, and I don’t fuck dirty girls. Plus, I’m always safe. I’ve got too much going on to add that type of headache.”
“Okay.” She shrugs.
I nod.
We are quiet again for a beat, and I smile at her.
“What?” she says.
“That’s it? Just one code rule?”
“Well, you’re the one with all the experience, Mr. Stripper. What else should we add?”
I wait a minute before I respond, not because I’m thinking—I know exactly what I want to add—because I’m worried about how it will sound out loud. It sounds so callous. Possibly cold to some.
“Two code. No falling in love.” I hesitate, only for a second, before I look at her.
She grins and nods. I return her smile.
“Deal.”
After that, it’s like a gun went off. Red climbs into my lap, and our little make-out sessions went from hot to fucking scorching. Top of clothes stuff, turns into underneath clothes stuff, to I-can’t-wait-for-you-to-take-this-off stuff. We stop holding back, but the torture is still at play, of course. Just because we drunk fucked last night, I didn’t want her to think it had to happen immediately. Even after the understanding we just came to. Sometimes, sex is best when there’s buildup, and I’m all about the foreplay.
Ah hem, stripper.
The seats in my car are pretty wide, so she’s able to fit comfortably, sliding her knees alongside my body. She thinks she has complete control and is at the advantage. At first, she is. Her chest pressed against mine, her lips everywhere—on my neck, my ears. She fingers my abs and plays with my hair.
Flashes of that dream flick through my mind as she sets me on fire, and things ignite in the front seat pretty quickly. We moan and grin, and I don’t care that we’re carrying on like two fifteen-year-olds. The parking lot is pretty empty, and my window tint is immaculate. Red moans and grinds her sexy ass against me. Every shaky moan or hitch in her breath has me glued to her. Now, not to sound cocky, but I am pretty blessed in the area below the belt; it’s part of the reason I’ve been successful as a stripper. I didn’t have to stuff a sock or wear a cock ring; it was all me, all the time. The way Red is sitting on me causes the best type of friction. She’s hot, and her legs are wide open, causing my brain to short circuit. It doesn’t take her long to start to unravel. Her moans grow louder, her breathing became more erratic… then, she whispers, “Please.”
I grab her hips and pull her tighter against me as I devour her. I push against her hard, and that’s when she squeals and begs, “Oh, god! Please,” louder this time.
Smiling against her lips, I’m sure I hold a dark, heated expression.
“Please what?” I ask. Oh, she’s going to say it.
She moans. I kiss her and ask again.
Just as she opens her mouth to answer, we heard three car doors close simultaneously. Kids, dusty kids everywhere. Apparently, not only did this park have the best walking trails in the area, but it also hosts the best youth soccer games, just like the one that’s about to start. We had no choice but to leave the park, that’s how we ended up at the diner, and that’s why we’re so wound up.
We cooled off a bit while we ate, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to get back to the house. As we prepare to leave the diner, Red goes to use the bathroom.
“Stay here,” she laughs. “You interrupted me the first time.”
I watch her walk away, and my phone buzzes in my pocket.
HALEY: Chris. Why didn’t you tell me about Paul?
CHRIS: Shit, I’m sorry. Yeah. He got the job.
HALEY: Well, I know that now. Lol
HALEY: The guys said you’d be back tonight. It’s weird you’re here on a Monday.
CHRIS: MJ and his mom are in Florida until tomorrow. It’s her mother’s birthday. Leaving tomorrow, though.
HALEY: Nice. Well, I can’t wait for later. Text me when your friend leaves.
CHRIS: She’s not.