by Jemma Bell
“Emily, so good to meet you. I am Libby. We will find you the perfect dress, oui?” She greets me with a fake smile and a cultured French accent. What the hell, is my name that difficult to remember?
“It’s Amy,” I correct her. “And yes, I hope we’ll be able to find something appropriate for a cocktail party.” I shake Libby’s hand and she yanks the tape measure off the hook. Turning me this way and that way, measuring me. Once she finishes, Libby rambles off a few orders to her assistant and the girl goes running.
“Well, I’ll leave you in Libby’s capable hands, I’ve got to find my perfect dress as well.” Mitzi waves me off and closes herself in her dressing room to try on her selections.
Over the next two hours, Libby’s assistant, Brie, the short, blonde girl, is run ragged going back and forth fetching dozens of dresses for me to try on. Unfortunately, none of them seems to work with my height, shape, hair color, or complexion. I’m just about to give up hope when I spot a champagne colored, strapless cocktail dress in Mitzi’s discard pile. Running my hands over the delicate lace and beaded overlay, I quickly scoop up the dress and bring it into my dressing area. I quickly wiggle into it and adjust my ample C cups into the sweetheart neckline. Not believing my eyes as I look in the mirror, I look stunning. The dress hugs my curves in all the right places and showcases my long legs with its short skirt. The amount of cleavage I have shown is a little more than I’m comfortable with, but I simply glow in this dress. Libby and Brie come bustling into my dressing room with armfuls of more dresses. They both take one look at me and are rendered speechless.
“Oh, Emily, oui, magnifique!” Libby complements and poor wearied Brie just smiles her first genuine smile of the day.
“My name is Amy and yes, I think this is the one,” I inform the two gaping women. Just as I turn my back so Brie can assist me with the zipper, Mitzi barges in and sees me in the dress.
“Well, look at you,” she takes me in and does a full body scan. “I’m not so sure if champagne is your color, Amy, we wouldn’t want you appear washed out. Perhaps a more bold color would do you justice. There’s a stunning mauve go-,” I interrupt her suggestion because I’ve already seen the mauve gown and it’s hideous, flat out ugly.
“Thanks for the suggestion, Mitzi, but I think I’m going to get this one.” Scrunching up her nose and rolling her eyes, she’s obviously not happy with my choice of dress. Well, tough noogies, you brat.
“That’s fine, that dress wasn’t my taste anyhow I went with classic black, I’m sure that one will be fine for the party. Libby dear, can you lend a hand picking shoes that match that dress for Amy?”
“But of course,” Libby replies in that French accent. We spend the next half hour trying on all kinds of different shoes. Some strappy, some backless, some sling back, but all have super high heels. I wobble and stumble around in them. Yep, practice is in order if I’m to survive an evening in these death traps. Once I find the perfect pair, I feel just like a princess. I do a quick prance around the dressing area, admiring myself in all the mirrors and putting a little extra strut in my steps and wiggle in my hips. Those pole classes are starting to pay off; My posture is better, my confidence is growing and, with more practice, I might pass for elegant. Taking one more look in the mirror, I spot someone watching me in my reflection. It’s Mitzi and boy does she look pissed off. I can’t imagine why, though. The whole point of going out today was to find dresses. What did she expect? Me to purchase a pillow case to wear? She quickly leaves the room and returns to the main part of the boutique. With Brie’s help, I quickly change back into my street clothes and join Mitzi up front to take care of our bill. As soon as I pull out my debit card to pay for my stuff, Mitzi laughs at me. Why the hell is she laughing?
“Oh, Amy, how sweet! Derrick is taking care of paying for your dress. You are his date, so it’s only right he foots the bill.” No, no it’s not alright. I attempt to hand my card to the clerk again and the girl explains to me that my dress and shoes have already been taken care of. I guess I’ll have to take this up with Derrick and pay him back. Once our dresses are wrapped up and placed in garment bags, we’re given large, handled, shopping bags containing our shoes. With a charming “au revoir” from Libby and a wave from Brie, we’re done with our shopping trip. Not so very quick and painless, but I have a killer dress and I am going to knock Derrick on his ass when he sees me dressed for his party.
“Well, Amy, where are you off to now?” Mitzi asks.
“I’m having dinner with Derrick at his house tonight; he’s cooking for me,” I tell her. She gives me a vacant expression, but her eyes say something entirely different. She is trying to appear unfazed by this information, but I know differently.
“Well, enjoy yourselves. Tell Derrick I need to speak with him later about something, will you?”
“No, problem.” With that, Mitzi turns and leaves me standing on the sidewalk by myself. Yanking out my phone, I bounce a quick, one word text to Derrick. Earlier he asked me to send him a text with my color choice of the dress so he can match his cummerbund and tie to what I’m wearing.
Amy: Champagne.
His reply comes back almost immediately.
Derrick: Elegant!! See you soon. Xoxox
Amy: On my way now. Xxxx
Practically skipping to my car, I make a quick detour home. I want to drop off my dress because I want the night of the party to be the first time he sees it. I show GG and Pops my dress when I get home. GG is impressed with my choice and spends at least fifteen minutes gushing over how lovely I’ll look and that Derrick is such a considerate boy to pay for everything. I hang my dress in my closet and pack a small overnight bag just in case I decide to stay again with Derrick. Clyde pushes my bedroom door open and keeps me company while I putter around, packing essentials; tooth brush, extra panties, etc. I guess I have been neglecting him a bit lately. I get down on my knees in front of him and wait for him to nudge me with his nose. Those pleading eyes look everywhere, but at me. Poor baby!
“Hey, boy, you going to give me some love?” I pat my lap twice and wait for him to make up his mind. Eventually, he gives in and gives me the nudge. Using both my hands, I rub under his floppy, velvety soft ears. He licks my face and lifts his front paw to my shoulder. All is right in our world. I kiss his head and stand up so I can finish packing. He stays sitting on the floor, just watching me. “You be good, Clyde, and take care of Pops for me,” I tell him the same thing every time I leave the house. Shouldering my bag, I leave my room, kiss Pops goodbye and give GG a squeeze. I tell them where I’m going and that I most likely won’t be home tonight. They worry but know I’m 23 years old and have to let me live my life. As I go to open the front door, I hear the clicking of claws on the hardwood floor behind me. He doesn’t approach me any further he just sits and waits for me to say something to him. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Clyde. I love you.” His reply is a grunt and then he gets up and walks away from me. He always makes me feel so guilty for leaving him. Almost like he’s afraid I won’t come back. Crazy dog!
Hopping in my little red Hyundai, I drive the three towns over to Derrick’s town house. I was brought up with the rule you always bring something with you when you’re invited to somebodies house. Whether it’s a bottle of wine or a dessert, you always bring something. Derrick informed me I was to bring nothing but myself. He was taking care of the rest. I park my car on the street next to the front of his house and walk up to the porch, knocking twice before entering. Upon opening the door, my senses are attacked by the most delicious aromas. Following my nose and ears into the kitchen, I find Derrick hard at work chopping and dicing vegetables for what looks like a delicious salad. He glances up when he notices me come in, greeting me with a smile that makes me go weak in the knees.
“There she is.” Placing his chopping knife down on the counter next to the cutting board, he rounds the island, hauling me into his arms. He devours my lips with a kiss that says ‘I missed you something fierce.’
He must have been drinking wine because I can taste the tangy flavor on his tongue. “Dinner is almost ready. I sure hope you’re hungry.” Giving one final lingering kiss, he returns to resume his chopping.
“What’s for dinner? It smells mouthwatering, by the way.” I take up my usual perch on the bar seat opposite him at the island. Taking in the open floor plan of his home I notice the dining room table is laid with fashionable looking china, crystal wine glasses, lit taper candles and linen napkins folded into…is that a standing fan? He’s been a busy boy. The whole atmosphere here is designed for romance.
“I made grilled salmon, fresh asparagus, angel hair pasta with lemon sauce and salad. For dessert, I made strawberry cheesecake.” Well, well, well, the boy sure can cook.
“Sounds scrumptious, I can’t wait.” I watch him put the finishing touches on our salad and place the rest of our dinner on a serving platter. Once everything has been transferred to the dining room, Derrick holds out my chair so I can be seated. Such a gentlemen. Pouring me a glass of Pinot Noir, we settle in for our delectable meal. Our conversation is easy and flows smoothly. We talk about the events of our day; how his tux fitting went, how my dress shopping was with Mitzi, the usual stuff. Once our bellies are full, we sit at the table sipping our wine and just relaxing.
“So where’s Riven tonight?” I’m curious because I haven’t heard anything about him from Layla other than he asked her to be his date for the launch party. He gives me an awkward look.
“Riven had a date tonight.” Huh? That’s weird because I know Layla had to work the late shift at her salon tonight. That’s when it hits me.
“Riven went out with some other girl tonight? Why would he do that? I thought he was interested in Layla.” I could have sworn he was serious about Layla, what the hell! You don’t date other girls if you’re interested in somebody else.
“Amy, Riv is interested in Layla. The problem is he’s not so sure she’s interested in him. She’s made no declarations about their relationship to him. She’s a complete enigma.” Derrick takes a sip of his wine and continues explaining to me why Riven went out with some other chick tonight. “Riven is the type of guy that wants a girl to lay claim to him, tell him he’s hers. Layla hasn’t done that and she’s very nonchalant about everything. Riven likes the idea of her being a take charge girl and that’s what he’s waiting for.” Now that he’s explained everything to me, I understand better, but I still don’t approve of Riven dating other girls while he pursues my friend. Derrick is right though, no promises have been made to either of them and so nobody gets hurt.
“You about ready for dessert.” Giving me a smoldering look I know he’s not talking about the cheesecake. I’m ready. I want tonight to be the first night we make love together. I’m nervous but excited. My first time was a disaster, this time I hope makes up for it.
“I am.” I respond to his question and get up from the table, holding my hand out for him to take. His hand trembles a little in mine. I guess perhaps he’s just as nervous as I am.
We walk hand in hand up the stairs while his other hand softly runs down my back to my rear end, giving it a light squeeze. Upon entering his bedroom, I notice the bedsheets turned down and candles lit on each of the nightstands. Downstairs was designed for romance, whereas the bedroom is designed for seduction. Standing in front of me, Derrick quickly, but methodically, removes my black t-shirt with “Love” ironically written across the front. I toe off my black ballet flats and he helps me remove my black cargo pants. Standing in just my panties and bra, he looks his fill at my body. Stroking me from my neck, down to my shoulders, over the curves of my breasts, and lower still to my flat stomach with his hands.
My hands move about on his chest. Smoothing down the material of his black polo shirt to the hem, I bunch it up, lifting it until it’s over his head and drop it to the floor. Now I can pet and stroke his skin like he’s doing to mine. His eyes are glued to my hands stroking along his torso, circling his pierced nipples and giving a gentle tug on each one. He’s getting more and more turned on, the evidence is trying to escape his jeans. Breathing in harsh pants, he grips my ass pulling me close and attacks my neck with aggressive open mouthed kisses and tender bites. Sliding one hand up my back, he expertly unhooks my bra. The boy has skills.
Picking me up in his arms, Derrick lays me down on his bed. Leaning over my body he uses his face to stroke down my chest, breathing over me with soft puffs of air. Circling my tight nipple with the tip of his tongue, he then takes me into his mouth, suckling hard. Not letting go of my needy breast, his hands continue to glide down until he reaches my panties. Hooking his pointer fingers in the elastic, he pulls them down my legs to my ankles, where I kick them off. Switching breasts he pays the same attention to my other nipple. I can feel my core weeping and begin to scissor my legs to try and alleviate some of the pressure building up inside of me.
Leaving my nipples puckered and red from his hard sucking, Derrick kisses and licks his way down the front of me. He climbs on the bed and settles his torso on the mattress between my thighs. Throwing my legs over his shoulders, opening my pussy up for his special attention. With the first swipe of his tongue, I’m ready to fly off the mattress. I swear, if his body weren’t holding me down, he’d have to peel me off the ceiling. Circling my clit with the tip of his tongue and licking me from clit to my back entrance, feels incredible. I can’t form coherent speech, so I just moan out my feelings in a series of “ooh’s and ah’s.” Grasping both my breasts in his hands and circling my nipples with his thumbs sends shock waves directly to my core, making me even wetter. Derrick’s tongue brings me to the peak and then helps me over the edge. I hold my breath as my orgasm slams through me, trembling and shaking.
I come back to reality with the echoes of my climax still clenching inside me, searching for something to clamp onto. Derrick stands quickly, dropping the rest of his clothes on the floor. He has an impressive size cock and I get butterflies in my stomach thinking about how he’s going to fit inside me. Taking a condom out of the night stand drawer, he rolls it on and climbs back on the bed to settle between my bent knees, kissing me intensely. Smoothing his hands down the front of my torso and lightly stroking the soft flesh of my pussy to test my readiness. My arms encircle his neck as he grasps hold of his cock with one hand and slowly enters me. I can feel a sharp sting as he stretches me open, making room for his solid girth.
“That’s it, baby, you feel so good, so tight and warm. Fuck!” My mouth drops open, but I’m unable to speak. With his mouth covering mine, Derrick continues to whisper words of encouragement to me until I feel him bottom out inside and our pelvises are meshed together.
“Ah, yes!” Derrick waits a few moments for my body to adjust to his invasion and then he asks the million dollar question. “You ok, sweets? Can I move? Because, baby, I need to move.” His breathing is coming in fast pants and I place a lingering kiss on his lips, speaking the words he needs to hear.
“Oh god! Derrick, make love to me.” He pulls out almost to the tip and then glides back into my soaked pussy. The friction he’s creating on my clit feels so amazing. I can feel my inner muscles trying to grip onto his dick with each inward thrust. Wow! If I knew what I was missing, maybe I wouldn’t have waited so long to have sex again. There’s a huge difference between an inexperienced boy and a man who knows what he’s doing. Derrick’s thick cock plunges in and out of my greedy pussy, creating a steady rhythm that’s driving me wild. With a devilish grin, he stops mid stroke.
“I want you to ride me, baby. I want to be able to see your face and touch all of your body. You can control the pace, you’re in charge, and I’m just your humble servant.” Before I can even voice my thoughts, he flips us around without dislodging his cock and I’m sitting straddled on his waist. “Ah, that’s better, now I can play with these,” he says with a smile, zeroing in on my breasts and grasping them in his hands. “I’ve never been a boob man before, but yours are so luscious,” sitting u
p he kisses each one. “Sweet,” lick. “Perfect,” suck. Laying back down on the bed, Derrick grips my hips and lifts me up just a bit, thrusting deep into my core. “I’ll guide you, baby, and then you can take over.” Bracing my hands on his chest to hold myself up, we settle into a rhythm. Soon enough, I find myself moving up and down on his delicious length. His hands are not idle, squeezing my breasts and tugging on my nipples. Wrapping his arms around my back, Derrick pulls me down, so my breasts are dangling in front of his face. Latching onto my nipple with his teeth and biting gently is enough to set my orgasm blazing through me. I shiver and tremble while my inner muscles clamp down on his cock, sending him erupting into his own climax. He groans out his ecstasy while still sucking on my tit. Bending down and wrapping my arms around his head, I kiss his hair and clutch his face to my body as I ride out the aftershocks.
“So good, so fucking, good!” He mumbles against my chest. Poor guy, I must be crushing him. I’m halted in my attempt to sit up, Derrick wraps his arms around my waist and clutches me to his body. That’s when I notice he’s still moving in short quick thrusts inside me. I could have sworn he came right around the same time I did. How is it possible he still feels semi-hard and is still moving?
“Wait, Amy, just stay right there. I don’t think I’m ready to leave you yet.” He pulls out a little bit further and thrusts back inside. The glide of his cock through my sensitive flesh feels decadent and arousing. I’d be getting turned on if I thought I could cum again so soon after the last time. With a few more shallow thrusts, Derrick throws his head back on a moan, his body trembling again. I guess the stories of multiple orgasms are no longer a myth, Derrick just proved the theory. I’m still perched securely on his waist when he comes back from his daze.
“I’m sorry, but you just felt so incredible, I didn’t want to leave yet.” He brushes my hair out of my face and pulls me down for a quick kiss. “So how do you feel?” He asks.