“Yes,” I say, my voice softer than I intended. “You can stay over.”
He beams at me, his hand slipping easily into mine as we continue down the boardwalk. The night stretches ahead of us, full of possibility—like the ocean just before a storm, calm and inviting but with a thrilling undercurrent of something about to break.
I know, deep down, that there’s more to Timmy than he’s letting on—more than just charm and good vibes. And the fact that the photos from the bar went toher—a friend, maybe, but possibly more—sits uncomfortably in the back of my mind. I'm not a jealous person by nature, but the way he said it just made me feel weird.
But for tonight, I don’t care. We just met, we haven’t by any means discussed exclusivity other than his cryptic comments about nobody else being able to stay over at my place, and of course he’s allowed to have female friends. It’s not like I don’t have plenty of male friends.
Tonight, I’m not going to worry about it anymore. I’m ready to be swept away.
21
HE LIKES MY CAT
The Past:
No one: (tumbleweeds roll by and crickets chirp)
The Present:
He assembles my desk and the matching chairs, and looks around the room.
As promised, he positions them so I can see the ocean while I’m writing. “For inspiration,” he says. “Because I know you love being able to look at the ocean.”
It’s like he’s listened to every word I’ve ever said, every story I’ve ever shared, and absorbed it all. And then he puts them into practice in the most subtle, thoughtful ways.
I’ve never felt cared about like this. Had someone put themselves into my shoes and think about what would work best for me. I feel almost… adored… I guess you could say. And it’s a wonderful feeling.
As we’re setting up my apartment, every look he gives me, every glance we share, feels charged with something more than just the ordinary thrill of moving into a new place. There’s this sense of electricity coursing between us, a chemistry so potent it feels like a magnetic pull. We’ve already been struggling to keep our hands off each other, and when we finally let go, it’s a rush of pent-up desire, and raw, undeniable need.
He slides my top over my head, and his eyes go wide as he notices the little silver bars that run through both of my nipples, as if he’s seeing a gift just for him. An involuntary groan escapes his lips, and his expression is so feral, so primal, that I almost lose myself.
“Oh my fucking god, I didn’t know your nipples were pierced,” he growls, nearly breathless. “Holy fuck, that’s hot.” The intensity of his gaze has me feeling both powerful and completely vulnerable.
“They’re new,” I say, a sly smile playing on my lips. “I just got them done a few weeks ago, so please be gentle. They’re still pretty tender.” I can tell by the way he’s looking at them he wants to either yank on them or put them in his mouth—maybe both—his expression turning reverent, as if he’s unwrapping something secret and sacred.
“They’re so fucking hot,” he says. “Oh my god, you’re amazing. Every fucking day I find out at least one new amazing thing about you, usually way more than just one.”
I don’t need to worry about him being too rough with them, though. He leans down and places a soft kiss on each, sending a shock that zips through my whole body. His touch is electric, and as his lips brush over my skin, any fears I had about remembering how to be intimate melt away.
When he lowers his board shorts and his cock springs free, my breath catches. Girthy and thick, with a slight upward curve that makes my stomach clench with excitement. And it’s rock hard.
“Jesus, you have a huge cock,” I blurt out, my face flushing, feeling myself grow even wetter, and he smirks.
“I know,” he growls, confidence radiating off him.
After five years, it felt like that whole part of my body had closed up shop. You know, insert jokes about cobwebs and the like.
But he makes me feel beautiful, desirable and worshipped in a way I never have before. My body responds to him as though it’s been waiting for exactly this.
I’m so horny right now, and as I see the lustful look in his eyes, my concern dissipates in an instant. He looks at me like he wants to eat me. And then he does, yanking my thighs apart and diving between them headfirst.
I moan as Timmy's hot, wet tongue teases its way up the inside of my thigh. I can feel his cocky grin even though my eyes are closed, his fingers gently exploring my lips.
“Your pussy is so pink,” he says. “And oh my god, you taste so good. Mmm, you're soaking wet for me, babe," he purrs, making a trail of kisses across my pussy. “Bet you've been aching for this, haven't you?”
“Oh, fuck, Timmy," I gasp, arching my back as he slips a finger inside me, curling it in a way that drives me wild. "Yes, yes, don't stop."
He laughs softly, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine. His free hand caresses my stomach, his thumb tracing patterns over my navel as he works a second finger into me, stretching me just right.