Dial a Stud: Dante's Story

by J. a Melville

  Chapter Sixteen

  I looked at Dante, and all I could think, was how different things could have been, if I’d only known he was out there, watching me, wanting to come to me.

  “If only I’d known you were there. I never knew though. I never saw you. I would have noticed you. You are a very good looking man, so tall and strong. You’re hard to miss.”

  “Even after I bought Dial A Stud, and stopped working as one, I could do little more, than watch you dancing with men, and watching you leave with some. That night at the club, the night we ended up lying on the damn thing, was the night I finally got to see you up close. I knew you were my Barbie. You’re older of course, and your appearance has changed, but there are three things about you, that time and losing weight, can’t change.”

  I stared at him, suddenly curious, at his words. “So what made you realise I was Barbie?”

  He raised a hand to cup my cheek, turning my face to his, staring into my eyes. “Your eyes were the first things for me. Did you know that you have little greenish flecks that radiate out from your pupils in the brown? One in particular, has this little bit.” He pointed at my right one. “It’s distinctive, just one little blemish, flaw, one little mark, which is imprinted on my memory.”

  I shook my head. I’d never really studied my eyes that closely. They were brown, I’d always wished, they were blue, like Mel’s, that was about as much thought, as I gave them.

  “So what else made me recognisable to you?”

  Dante lifted my hand, and turned my wrist over. “It took a while to see this one, but the night we danced, and fell over on the dancefloor, was the moment I got to see this.” He said, pointing to my scar, where I’d slit my wrist. “It’s not just that you have the scar, it’s the scar itself. I used to think when we were at the centre, that you scar, looked like some kind of crazy smile. See how it kicks up at one end? It’s like you slipped or something.”

  I found myself staring at him open mouthed. The man was incredibly observant, and had been for a long time. He’d found that little thing in my scar, that to him made it unique, and he’d never forgotten that.

  “You said there were three things. I can’t imagine, what else, you saw in me that convinced you, I was Barbie.”

  Dante’s fingers suddenly brushed lightly over my neck. When I didn’t react, he bent forward, and I blew out a noisy breath, at the touch of his lips, on my sensitive skin.

  “It’s these cute little moles you have here. Do you know, they look, almost like, you’ve been bitten, by a vampire? They kind of make me want to bite you. One is slightly larger and darker than the other.”

  “I’m just shell shocked at how observant you are Dante. You would have been great for the police force. I still find it hard to believe, that I made an impact on you in any way at all. What were you hoping for?”

  I wanted to meet you cara. I wanted a name to put to your beautiful face. That’s why I was so desperate to learn it, that night in the club. You can probably also imagine, my reaction when I saw your name, being typed into the Dial A Stud computer. I knew I couldn’t send, any of my studs to you. I wasn’t going to let anyone else touch you. In my mind, you were mine.”

  “You make it sound like I’m very important to you, almost as if you love me, but how can that be? We don’t know one another that well.”

  “That’s where you are wrong Grace. I fell in love with you as a seventeen year old boy. You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Now years later, you are still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I hated to see you with other men, but it was a long time before I felt I could approach you. I couldn’t be a stud and come to you. I needed time to free myself of that life, time to try and get my head sorted out. I tortured myself with fears that you might find a man. That you might find one, you could settle down with, and my chance with you would be gone.

  Call me crazy, but I have loved you since I was seventeen years old. Time has made me older, and hopefully wiser, but my desire to be with you, is still the same. I don’t want to lose you again. I want the chance to get to know you, and for you to know me. I know I have problems. You’re a sexual woman, I’ve seen that, and you did call Dial A Stud. I can’t give you everything you need sexually, but I don’t want to lose you either.

  Tears filled my eyes at his heartfelt, yet poignant words. How could he think I might discard him like yesterday’s leftovers? He’d told me everything, laid his soul out to me. I might not feel as strongly, as he said he felt for me, but I didn’t want to lose him either. Right from when I’d first seen him at the club, I’d been drawn to him. I’d felt it and sensed the attraction to him.

  He was right, he was fucked up, but then so was I, in a lot of ways. Hell, half the world’s population were probably fucked up in some way.

  I did feel an uncomfortable pang, at his suggestion he couldn’t satisfy me sexually. Of course he could. He’d done so numerous times. It was me, who couldn’t necessarily satisfy him. Normally that would have had my insecurities going crazy on me, but I knew it wasn’t me, it was the damage done from his job, and his own pressures on himself, that had led to the problem.

  I didn’t want to lose him either. I wanted to help him. I wanted to make him enjoy sex again, I just wanted him.

  “I’m not going anywhere Dante. I felt that connection when we met in the club. You have no idea how hard it was to walk away from you that night. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and to be honest, I only called Dial A Stud, in a desperate attempt to wipe you from my mind. It seems fate intervened. Despite all that, we still ended up together. You saw my name on the computer and, well, here we are. I understand your issues. You please me greatly, you pleasure me beautifully. Please don’t say you don’t. You are a beautiful man both here. “I waved a hand down the length of him. “But especially here.” I placed my palm over his heart, feeling the strong, steady beat through my hand. “Now I want to see if you will let me pleasure you? I want you to let me try and help you in the bedroom. So I guess the question is, will you let me?” I asked.

  I waited, watching him, seeing a myriad of emotions crossing his face. “I don’t need your pity or your sympathy Grace.”

  “I don’t pity you Dante. This is not some kind of mercy fuck so to speak. I don’t feel sorry for you either, but I do have compassion for you, and all you have endured. Don’t hate me for that.”

  Dante raised those beautiful, expressive brown eyes of his to mine. “Oh cara, I could never hate you. You have been in my memories for almost twelve years. You have been here for almost twelve years.” He placed a hand on his chest over his heart. “Are you sure you can handle being with someone like me; someone who is fucked up like me?”

  I touched a hand to his cheek. “I’m sure.” I whispered, just before I leaned forward and kissed him.

  I spent the next couple of days with Dante. I held him, touched him, kissed him, opened my heart to him, but not once, did I try to arouse him, or encourage him to make love to me.

  That didn’t mean I didn’t want him. The man was sex on legs. Watching him, everything he did, made me want to fuck him but I did nothing.

  A lot of Dante’s issues stemmed from being objectified by women, an irony I understood well, given he’d said he would never have attracted any women, if he’d still been overweight.

  It was cruel and unfair, that so many people could be that shallow, but everyone was guilty of doing it, at least once in their lives.

  I’d liked him when he was Arnie to me, but would I have wanted him now, if he’d still been morbidly obese? I honestly didn’t know. The fact that I didn’t know, made me just as guilty of wanting the pretty wrapper, without necessarily opening it up, to see what was hidden inside.

  Of course, torturing myself with ‘what ifs’ achieved nothing, I couldn’t change what had been, all I could do was try to make things better now.

  So, in my head, the best way, was to not hit Dante up for sex. It was just so fucking hard th
ough. The man was made for it. Everything he did, every move he made was sensual, sexual. He moved with such incredible masculine grace for such a tall, bulky man. The worst thing about it all, was he didn’t do it deliberately, I knew that. None of it was a ploy to turn me on, to draw me to him. None of it was designed, to lure me, into spreading my legs, to him.

  I was simply weak with him. I wanted him, and he was driving me slowly insane, without doing a damned thing to me.

  Since I was still staying with him, and had no clothes, besides what I’d been wearing the first night I turned up at his home, I felt exposed, walking around all the time, as I was, in his t-shirts and no panties.

  In a desperate bid to not jump the man’s bones, and beg him to fuck my brains out, I spent my time, trying to expend as much energy as I could, being domestic, and I hated being domestic.

  I cooked, still badly, and cleaned, I even did the man’s washing for him. When I wasn’t occupying my time playing Ms Housemaid, I read, watched TV, anything to keep myself busy.

  Dante was well again, I could go home, but a part of me didn’t want to go. I liked being in his company. He was an easy man to get along with. He was intelligent to talk to, he had a surprising sense of humour, and he was attentive and caring. He was the perfect boyfriend material. Well, almost.

  It was fascinating for me, to see him doing mundane, ordinary, daily chores too. He was very neat and tidy; now that had surprised the hell out of me. He was very sweet but at times, surprisingly bossy. He liked things a certain way within his home, and would glower at me, if I tried to change anything.

  After a very short time, I realised he was, the way he was, because he’d had no control over his life when he was younger. If anything it had spiralled so out of control, he’d tried to end it.

  He was very strict with what went into his body too. I guess someone with a weight problem, never forgets what it was like. I know I don’t. Although I still had issues with my body at times, I knew I wasn’t that same plump teenage girl anymore, and had no desire to be her again. Quite obviously, Dante was the same. He treated his body like a temple now.

  He monitored everything that went in, and unlike me, who would occasionally indulge, and eat something fattening, he didn’t.

  There were a lot of protein shakes and high protein foods, but then he was a tall man, and incredibly muscular. His body really did remind me, of the very sexy werewolf, from my favourite vampire show.

  Then there were the workouts. I’d watched a couple of those, seeing him run, until sweat dripped off him like mini rivers. He’d do workouts involving weights, and to see him flexing, those muscles popping and bulging, on his beautiful body, got me so wet, I’m sure if I’d stayed sitting too long, I’d have left a wet patch on the chair.

  After watching him for about half an hour, I’d decided it wasn’t such a good idea. Seeing him, covered in sweat, body glistening, and all those wonderful muscles at work, only made me want him more, and I couldn’t make a move on him. Not only would I prove his point, that I was a typical, shallow woman, like the ones he was used to, salivating over him flexing before me, I would make him feel pressured to perform, and I was trying so hard, not to do that to him. Even though it was killing me not to run my hands over every delicious inch of him, or lick my way down his body like he was some exotic kind of ice cream.

  When I thought of him and ice cream, I think I nearly drooled. God, I was pathetic. I was fantasising about covering him in ice cream, and licking it off again. Ugh, dammit, but this being a martyr was killing me, slowly. Could a person die from sexual frustration?

  I had to get out of his house. It was time to go home.

  So, on the morning of what would have been my third day since what I called, The Big Revelation, I announced I would be going home.

  “Are you tired of staying with me cara?” He eyed me over the glass, of the protein shake, he was drinking.

  “No of course not, but I’ve been here several days, and I have work, a house, hell, clothes, I need to get back to.”

  His eyes drifted down, over what he could see of my body above the table. “So wearing my t-shirts, is losing its appeal?” A hint of a smile touched his lips.

  I smirked at him. “I have loved wearing your t-shirts, but I’ve been commando for days now Dante. I’m not accustomed to not wearing panties. It is a little restricting, trying to do things around your home.”

  One eyebrow lifted as he studied me. “I would have thought no panties would have been very liberating.” I could see the humour in his eyes.

  Childishly, I poked my tongue out at him. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  Something flashed in his eyes and was gone again. It was so fleeting, but for a moment, it had looked like desire. “I like having you in my home, in nothing more than my t-shirts cara. It makes me hard for you.”

  “You get hard? I thought that…” I trailed off, frowning.

  Dante laughed softly. “You’re confused obviously. I still desire you, and I get hard for you; painfully aroused for you in fact. I’d have to be made of stone, not to have it driving me crazy, watching you in nothing more than my t-shirts. It’s not a problem with my desire cara, it’s my own fucked up head when I want to come, that is the issue.” He tilted his head to one side, studying me. “Is this why you have done everything you can, to avoid any kind of intimacy between us?”

  I stared at him in shock. Fuck, he’d noticed.

  “I…well…I…I thought that…” I trailed off again.

  “Come here Grace.” Dante held a hand out to me, and on suddenly shaky legs, I rose, walking around the table to him.

  He tugged me down onto his lap, grabbing my hips to pull me back, more firmly against him. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?” He yanked me down hard onto him and I felt him, I could feel the hard ridge of his cock against my ass.

  “But…I thought…I thought you didn’t want sex? Well, I thought, if I didn’t sexualise you that would be a good thing.” I finished on a whisper.

  Oh cara, is this why you have avoided any direct contact with me? I thought after all I told you, that you might not feel any attraction for me, anymore. I thought that perhaps, I was not man enough for you.”

  That was enough to have me twisting myself around on his lap. “Fuck no Dante. How could you even think such a thing? You are more than enough man for me. You are a sexy, beautiful man, but I…I didn’t want to treat you, as other women have. I thought I would put pressure on you to perform, and that’s the last thing I want to do to you.”

  “I know you’re not like other women Grace. I want you, to want me, and I will happily give you what you need, when you need it.”

  “But that’s just it. I don’t want you servicing me. I don’t want you doing something like it’s your obligation to do so. I want you to get something from sex too. I want you to crave it, to want me so desperately, you, would do anything it took, to get between my legs. I want you to focus your thoughts on coming, not on making me come.” I ran a finger gently over his bottom lip. As I stared at him, suddenly an idea hit me and I sat up excitedly. “Let me make love to you. Let me service you. Think of it like a role reversal.”

  Dante frowned, as he stared at me. “Are you serious? I’m not used to being on the receiving end cara. I give it; I don’t generally get it back.”

  “Please.” I begged him. “Please, let me try. I would love it and hopefully you will too.”

  “This is that important to you is it?” He asked, his eyes searching mine. “If I do this, if I allow you to do this, what if my problem rears its head?”

  “Stop thinking you have a problem.” I said, and kissed him.

  With just a feather light touch, I moved my lips over his. I didn’t force myself on him, or demand him to open to me. I just continued the slow, unhurried movement of my lips, on his.

  After a short while, I felt him start to kiss me back, and I responded, by tracing his bottom lip with my tongue, lick
ing over its softness.

  I heard a tiny sound come from him, a low moan or sigh, from his throat, before his mouth opened, and suddenly, it was him kissing me, forcefully.

  I opened to him, feeling his tongue immediately sweep over mine as he kissed me, taking control, dominating me. My tongue tangled with his, licking, sucking, curling around his, tasting him, savouring him.

  For a while it was like a battle for control. I tried to take over the kiss again, my tongue duelling with Dante’s, but he responded by taking my bottom lip between his teeth, and giving me a sharp nip.

  I moaned as my excitement grew. God this man drove me crazy. He was the only man I’d ever been with, who could have me ready to throw off my clothes, and spread my legs wide with nothing more than his lips on mine.

  When he suddenly, shoved a hand, under his t-shirt I was wearing, and pushed a finger into me, I gasped with the surprise of having him inside me. He took advantage of me opening, wider still, and thrust his tongue past my lips, where he began a thorough and extremely erotic, exploration of my mouth.

  The kiss went on and on, his finger mimicking the action of his tongue, thrusting in and out of me. He kept curling it, applying pressure to my g spot, until I could feel my body tightening, as he began to build me up, towards an orgasm.