on my limited knowledge of one Wickham Dunmore.
“The fire station I worked at in the city. One of the older guys was an amazing cook, and he took me under his wing,” he says, very noncommittally. “Are we doing presents now? Because I can’t wait.”
He hands me a large envelope while we’re still sitting at the table. There’s a small red bow on the front.
“OK, this isn’t the puppy I asked for, is it?” I say, just trying to lighten the mood a little; he seems serious right now.
He’s also nervous. Now I’m nervous wondering what the hell could be in the envelope. I feel my hands shake a little as I open it. It’s a brochure for a resort in Wisconsin with spectacular views of Lake Michigan. It looks incredible.
“I’ve booked us for the weekend of Valentine’s Day. I hope that’s OK,” he says, taking a large sip of his wine.
Why is he so nervous? It’s just a weekend away for us. Then it hits me. Maybe he’s planning on this being the weekend we finally consummate our relationship. I walk over to the living room, to get more comfortable on the couch. He follows, with an unsure look on his face.
“Do you like it? Am I being too presumptuous about Valentine’s Day?”
“Wick, I love it. It’s such a kind gesture, and I look forward to it. I do have a question, though. Will we be in the same bed?”
May as well lay it out there, I’ve got nothing to lose.
“Well, yes . I know you’ve been frustrated with me, and I appreciate your patience. I have my reasons for behaving the way I do.”
“Will you share them with me? I’m just so curious, why the wait? I will admit, I do feel more aroused when we’re together. It’s like an extended foreplay.”
“I will, I promise, in my own time, OK? This whole relationship has turned my existence upside down, and I’m trying my best to manage pretty unfamiliar ground. I’m hoping that by February, I’ll be ready for this.”
I can’t help but notice he has an erection. Now I’m more confused than ever. I pretend not to see it, and thank him again for the gift. I rise to clear the dishes, and watch him out of the corner of my eye. He takes a long deep breath, eyes closed, and the bulge disappears. Wow. That’s some self-control.
I give him his sweater, and he loves it. He yanks off the tag, as I hold my breath begging it not to rip a hole, and throws it on. I never thought he could be more gorgeous, until now. It makes the color of his eyes absolutely pop from his head, and his dark hair look even darker.
“I’m afraid I’ve outdone myself and must insist that you wear that twenty-four hours a day,” I say, ogling him.
“What if I have a really good reason to take it off?”
Wait, what? Is he teasing me after the conversation before?
“Don’t toy with me, Wick. My poor, weak heart can’t take it.”
He stands up, slowly removes the sweater and pulls me up to standing in front of him. He takes my hands, and places them on the buttons of his dress shirt. I’m frozen for a moment. I’m not quite sure what the means.
“Unbutton it,” he whispers.
My fingers start shaking, and my body heat is rising. I fumble with the first button, and it’s a long shirt, we could be here awhile. I tell myself to calm down and focus on the task at hand. I even unbutton the cuffs. I see his muscled chest and his abs for the first time. I hear myself swallow. He has a small amount of chest hair, and the rest is bare.
“Take it off,” he whispers even more softly than before.
I’ve seen countless men with no shirt on, but this is so erotic I feel as if I’ll melt into a puddle at his feet. I grab the top of the collar, and slowly peel the shirt over his broad shoulders, and continue down his torso and back until it drops onto the floor. Another full erection has joined the party. This won’t be the night, will it? He’s made such a big deal out of our trip. I don’t understand, but right now, I don’t care. I’m enjoying this
“The fire station I worked at in the city. One of the older guys was an amazing cook, and he took me under his wing,” he says, very noncommittally. “Are we doing presents now? Because I can’t wait.”
He hands me a large envelope while we’re still sitting at the table. There’s a small red bow on the front.
“OK, this isn’t the puppy I asked for, is it?” I say, just trying to lighten the mood a little; he seems serious right now.
He’s also nervous. Now I’m nervous wondering what the hell could be in the envelope. I feel my hands shake a little as I open it. It’s a brochure for a resort in Wisconsin with spectacular views of Lake Michigan. It looks incredible.
“I’ve booked us for the weekend of Valentine’s Day. I hope that’s OK,” he says, taking a large sip of his wine.
Why is he so nervous? It’s just a weekend away for us. Then it hits me. Maybe he’s planning on this being the weekend we finally consummate our relationship. I walk over to the living room, to get more comfortable on the couch. He follows, with an unsure look on his face.
“Do you like it? Am I being too presumptuous about Valentine’s Day?”
“Wick, I love it. It’s such a kind gesture, and I look forward to it. I do have a question, though. Will we be in the same bed?”
May as well lay it out there, I’ve got nothing to lose.
“Well, yes . I know you’ve been frustrated with me, and I appreciate your patience. I have my reasons for behaving the way I do.”
“Will you share them with me? I’m just so curious, why the wait? I will admit, I do feel more aroused when we’re together. It’s like an extended foreplay.”
“I will, I promise, in my own time, OK? This whole relationship has turned my existence upside down, and I’m trying my best to manage pretty unfamiliar ground. I’m hoping that by February, I’ll be ready for this.”
I can’t help but notice he has an erection. Now I’m more confused than ever. I pretend not to see it, and thank him again for the gift. I rise to clear the dishes, and watch him out of the corner of my eye. He takes a long deep breath, eyes closed, and the bulge disappears. Wow. That’s some self-control.
I give him his sweater, and he loves it. He yanks off the tag, as I hold my breath begging it not to rip a hole, and throws it on. I never thought he could be more gorgeous, until now. It makes the color of his eyes absolutely pop from his head, and his dark hair look even darker.
“I’m afraid I’ve outdone myself and must insist that you wear that twenty-four hours a day,” I say, ogling him.
“What if I have a really good reason to take it off?”
Wait, what? Is he teasing me after the conversation before?
“Don’t toy with me, Wick. My poor, weak heart can’t take it.”
He stands up, slowly removes the sweater and pulls me up to standing in front of him. He takes my hands, and places them on the buttons of his dress shirt. I’m frozen for a moment. I’m not quite sure what the means.
“Unbutton it,” he whispers.
My fingers start shaking, and my body heat is rising. I fumble with the first button, and it’s a long shirt, we could be here awhile. I tell myself to calm down and focus on the task at hand. I even unbutton the cuffs. I see his muscled chest and his abs for the first time. I hear myself swallow. He has a small amount of chest hair, and the rest is bare.
“Take it off,” he whispers even more softly than before.
I’ve seen countless men with no shirt on, but this is so erotic I feel as if I’ll melt into a puddle at his feet. I grab the top of the collar, and slowly peel the shirt over his broad shoulders, and continue down his torso and back until it drops onto the floor. Another full erection has joined the party. This won’t be the night, will it? He’s made such a big deal out of our trip. I don’t understand, but right now, I don’t care. I’m enjoying this
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