fucking missed her. We hadn’t talked much through the week, once Sunday and once Wednesday, and I was always amazed at how quickly the time passed when we were on the phone. Half an hour felt like three minutes. Other than that there were just a few quick texts, once yesterday to ask if she ate red meat (she did), and then earlier today to make sure she had a couple ingredients I would need.
But I’d thought about her constantly, trying to reconcile my feelings for her with my responsibilities as a father. It would be so much easier if I just wanted the sex—but I didn’t. I wanted more. Did she?
When she answered the door, I realized I’d been holding my breath. Or maybe the sight of her took it away.
“Hi,” she said, giving me a quick kiss before reaching for one of the bags. “Let me help.” She was still dressed in her work clothes, a narrow black skirt, cream-colored blouse, and black heels.
“I’ve got it.” I held on to both bags and pushed the door shut behind me. “But you can kiss me again.”
She grinned and moved closer, putting a hand on either side of my face and pressing her lips to mine. Her kiss was soft and sweet at first, but then I felt her tongue sliding along my lower lip, her mouth opening, head tilting, hands sliding into my hair. Pretty soon her body was pressed against mine and her arms were wrapped around my neck.
“Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “I’m getting a little carried away.”
“No complaints here,” I said, “but I promised to cook for you, and in five seconds I’m not gonna give a fuck about dinner, so if you’re hungry—”
“Oh, I’m hungry.” She ran her hand down the front of my pants and rubbed my cock, which was quickly turning to steel. “I’m ravenous, in fact.”
“Jillian—”
“Shhhhhh.” She put a finger over my lips. “I’m making the rules this time.”
I dropped the two bags of groceries, pushed her back to the wall, and pinned her wrists above her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I love it when you get rough with me,” she whispered, like she was confessing a secret. “I've always remembered that about you.”
“And yet you’re trying to make the rules.” My calm, quiet tone was in complete contrast to the violent roar of blood through my veins. “What’s that about?”
She was panting, her chest rising and falling quickly. “To provoke you. And it worked.”
I shut her up with a kiss, crushing my mouth over hers and pulling her blouse from her skirt. She moaned when I slid my hands up her chest, covering both breasts and then rubbing my thumbs over her nipples. I could feel lace and wondered what it looked like. “Take your blouse off. I want to see you.”
“There’s a button at the back of my neck.”
I found the button and undid it, lifted the blouse over her head, and let it fall.
“Like it?” she asked, her hand rubbing my cock again.
“Fuck yes, I do.” I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing pretty, feminine things on a woman’s body—or maybe it was just that I loved seeing them on Jillian. Her bra was white this time, and almost completely sheer except for a few little flowers or something embroidered on it in white thread. Her rosy pink nipples peeked through the material, begging to be licked and sucked and bitten. I pinched them, enjoying the little gasp of pleasure from her lips, the way her hand stilled on my dick.
“Leave it on this time,” I told her, glancing down. “The heels too.”
“I’ll leave on anything you want.” Her hands moved to my belt and worked quickly, then she dropped to her knees and pulled my pants down just enough to free my cock.
She took it in one hand and angled it toward her mouth, stopping to look up at me, and I can say for certain it was the first time I have ever been tempted to take a dick pic. In general, I don’t think dicks are deserving of portraiture, but mine looked fucking fantastic next to her face.
Sorry, was that
But I’d thought about her constantly, trying to reconcile my feelings for her with my responsibilities as a father. It would be so much easier if I just wanted the sex—but I didn’t. I wanted more. Did she?
When she answered the door, I realized I’d been holding my breath. Or maybe the sight of her took it away.
“Hi,” she said, giving me a quick kiss before reaching for one of the bags. “Let me help.” She was still dressed in her work clothes, a narrow black skirt, cream-colored blouse, and black heels.
“I’ve got it.” I held on to both bags and pushed the door shut behind me. “But you can kiss me again.”
She grinned and moved closer, putting a hand on either side of my face and pressing her lips to mine. Her kiss was soft and sweet at first, but then I felt her tongue sliding along my lower lip, her mouth opening, head tilting, hands sliding into my hair. Pretty soon her body was pressed against mine and her arms were wrapped around my neck.
“Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “I’m getting a little carried away.”
“No complaints here,” I said, “but I promised to cook for you, and in five seconds I’m not gonna give a fuck about dinner, so if you’re hungry—”
“Oh, I’m hungry.” She ran her hand down the front of my pants and rubbed my cock, which was quickly turning to steel. “I’m ravenous, in fact.”
“Jillian—”
“Shhhhhh.” She put a finger over my lips. “I’m making the rules this time.”
I dropped the two bags of groceries, pushed her back to the wall, and pinned her wrists above her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I love it when you get rough with me,” she whispered, like she was confessing a secret. “I've always remembered that about you.”
“And yet you’re trying to make the rules.” My calm, quiet tone was in complete contrast to the violent roar of blood through my veins. “What’s that about?”
She was panting, her chest rising and falling quickly. “To provoke you. And it worked.”
I shut her up with a kiss, crushing my mouth over hers and pulling her blouse from her skirt. She moaned when I slid my hands up her chest, covering both breasts and then rubbing my thumbs over her nipples. I could feel lace and wondered what it looked like. “Take your blouse off. I want to see you.”
“There’s a button at the back of my neck.”
I found the button and undid it, lifted the blouse over her head, and let it fall.
“Like it?” she asked, her hand rubbing my cock again.
“Fuck yes, I do.” I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing pretty, feminine things on a woman’s body—or maybe it was just that I loved seeing them on Jillian. Her bra was white this time, and almost completely sheer except for a few little flowers or something embroidered on it in white thread. Her rosy pink nipples peeked through the material, begging to be licked and sucked and bitten. I pinched them, enjoying the little gasp of pleasure from her lips, the way her hand stilled on my dick.
“Leave it on this time,” I told her, glancing down. “The heels too.”
“I’ll leave on anything you want.” Her hands moved to my belt and worked quickly, then she dropped to her knees and pulled my pants down just enough to free my cock.
She took it in one hand and angled it toward her mouth, stopping to look up at me, and I can say for certain it was the first time I have ever been tempted to take a dick pic. In general, I don’t think dicks are deserving of portraiture, but mine looked fucking fantastic next to her face.
Sorry, was that
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