“Do you like them?” I asked, rotating in a circle so he could see all angles of my physique.
“Love them. Where are your shoes, baby girl?”
“Oh, I left hem in the dressing room,” I said pointing in the room.
Erik walked past me, and into the dressing room. He motioned to me with his hand to come into the dressing room. I looked through the store, which was almost empty, and walked into the room.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
He held his index finger to his lips, giving me the symbol to be quiet, and leaned toward my face. With his finger still crossing his lips, he brushed my hair behind my ear with his other hand. I could feel his lips touching the lobe of my ear, and feel his breath on my ear and neck. His mouth moved from my ear along my neck to my shoulder, and I felt his breath on my skin as he moved. It was as if he smelled me with his mouth.
His mouth opened and wet, he began kissing along my neck to my ear, licking my skin with the tip of his tongue as his mouth moved up and down my neck. His tongue darting out and randomly licking me made goose bumps begin to rise on my arms and legs again. He positioned his head directly in front of mine, and held his finger tightly to his lips. He raised his eyebrows as if to confirm that I understood. I nodded my head and smiled.
“Don’t say one fucking word, baby girl. Not one fucking word,” he whispered in my ear.
I nodded again.
Using his index finger, he moved the neck of my shirt aside, and kissed and bit my clavicle. Chills ran down my spine all the way to my toes. His lips moved up my neck to my ear. His mouth opened and lightly encompassed my lower ear lobe, kissing it with his lips. He grasped my face lightly with his right hand, and turned it to meet his.
Pressing me against the corner of the dressing room, he began to kiss me. I could feel my heart beating in my throat. His hand slid from my face to my lower neck. With his palm resting on my lower neck, his thumb and fingers stretched to my collarbones. The tips of his finger began squeezing my neck. His grip alternated between lightly squeezing and a more firm grip, we continued to kiss.
I focused on his hand squeezing my neck more than I focused on the kiss, and it was making me want him to fuck me. I wanted him inside of me, right there in the dressing room. Slowly sliding his big cock inside of me - gently, quietly, deeply…as he held his hand over my mouth. I felt as if I were fading in and out of consciousness.
As we kissed, with his right hand on my throat, he reached around the lower part of my back with his left hand, grabbing my hip bone. Pulling with his left hand, he began to spin me around, my back facing him. He held my face and continued to kiss me as he turned me around. With his left hand he unbuttoned and unzipped the jeans.
As the jeans fell to the floor, my heart raced. I could feel every beat of it against his palm, which still rested on my throat. I felt his hand on my butt, struggling with my panties. I reached for my panties, and when I did, I realized my hand had been stroking him through his jeans. I have no idea how long it had been there, but one hand was against the wall, attempting to hold myself steady, while the other was reaching behind me stroking him to rock-like hardness.
I pulled the front of my panties down with my thumb, and he pulled on the rear. After they slid down my thighs, they fell to the floor. I kicked my jeans and panties to the side, and pressed my butt against him.
“Put both your hands against the wall, baby girl, and don’t say a word, understand?” he whispered in my ear.
I nodded.
I heard his belt unbuckle, and the sound of his zipper. With both palms on the wall of the booth, I stood - naked. All I had on was my shirt. I began to shake. A chill went through my body. I wanted him inside of me desperately. I wanted to feel him become part of me. I looked between my legs, and saw his pants fall to the tops of his boots. As I was focusing on his pants, I felt the head of his hard cock press against my wetness.
His right hand grasped my neck, and I felt his mouth by my right ear.
“Not a word,” he whispered.
I looked up at the wall, and braced myself, pressing hard against the wall.
As he began to slide inside of me, I bent my knees, and pressed my butt against his hips as hard as I could, forcing him inside of me as deeply as possible. I felt his left arm on my ribs, as his hand slid slowly down to my crotch. His finger found my clit, and he began to massage it with the tip of his finger as he squeezed my neck lightly with his other hand.
He had found a rhythm of slow, long strokes. His hips lightly slapped against my butt as he attempted to go as deep as possible. His thick long cock working its way in and out of my wetness…this was not love making, we were fucking - and I loved it. He continued to rub my clit, sending miniature electric shocks throughout my body. His breath against my ear felt like steam. As I began to tingle, I bit my lower lip with my teeth, knowing I was going to have an immediate orgasm.
“Listen to me, baby girl. Listen. Cum on me. Cum all over my cock. Cum for me, baby girl. I want you to cum. Cum for me,” he whispered into my ear as he continued to push himself deeper inside of me.
My legs began to shake. I removed one of my hands from the wall, and grabbed his hand, trying to hold it still. His finger on my clit was sending waves through my soul as I began to climax. I couldn’t remove his hand, and his finger continued to massage my clit as his swollen shaft slid in and out slowly. His chest pressed against my back, and his hips pressed against my butt, my eyes rolled back and my eyelids closed. Lost in the moment, I came, and I came, and I came. I heard him whispering in my ear, and felt his breath, but I could not comprehend what he was saying. As I continued to have orgasm after orgasm, I felt his cock swell, growing inside of me. I could feel his heart beating through it as he held it deep, pressing against me. I wanted to capture this moment, this feeling, and keep it. There was nothing I could ever do to resurrect this feeling, to make it recur.
His chest released pressure from my back, and he began to groan. As he continued to groan, he erupted inside of me. My entire body shook, tingled, and felt warm at the same time. An orgasm like experience that I had never witnessed went through my entire body as he came. I couldn’t breathe. I opened my eyes. I heard nothing but ringing in my ears.
As he pulled himself from inside of me, I reached down and cupped my hand over my crotch. His orgasm felt massive, and I knew it would eventually be everywhere. Standing there with one hand between my legs, I turned to face him. With his hand still on my neck, he slowly slid it up to my chin, and gripped my jaw with his fingers. He looked me in the eye, and his lips slowly and softly met mine. Two soft, wet kisses later, he pulled his face back.
“You’re perfect for me. You’re human, and you’re flawed, we all are. But for me, you are perfect,” he whispered.
I felt like my heart was in my throat. I could feel it beating in my mouth. I stood, one hand on my crotch, and stared at him. With my free hand, I reached around him and hugged him, pressing my cheek against his chest. Listening to his heartbeat, and feeling it against my face, I wondered just what he meant. Just how perfect was I, and what would that afford me? With one of his hands in my hair, and one against my back, we hugged.
“You guys need help in there?” the irritating high school teen asked from outside the door.
“No, just trying on jeans,” I responded.
“Okay, well…one person to a room, please. It’s store policy,” she responded in a sharp tone.
“I will be right out,” Erik said in a deep voice.
As he pulled his jeans up, I admired his body structure. His back muscles through his tee shirt as he bent down. His calf and thigh muscles as he pulled his pants up. His forearm, covered with tattoos and muscle as he zipped his jeans. Talk about perfect.
He opened the door just enough to exit, and slipped through, closing it behind him. After he stepped out, I stood, one hand on my crotch, and one free. I looked around the room. I grabbed the jeans from the corner of the room, and
used the inner leg of the pants to wipe myself clean. Covered in his cum as well as mine, I wiped several times. I then neatly folded the jeans, placed them on the bench, and got dressed. With the jeans in one hand, and my purse in the other, I walked out of the booth.
“I need to go back to the jeans,” I said, motioning to the display.
Erik followed me as I walked quickly to the jean display. I dug through them, and found a similar pair in the wash and color of the jeans I was carrying I checked the size, and handed the new jeans to Erik.
“Hold those please?”
Looking puzzled, he reached out and took the jeans. As we walked to the counter, the teen was checking someone out, and popping her gum as she did. What an irritating little bitch. We stepped in line behind the boy who was paying for his clothes. As she handed him his purchases, she popped her gum again, and tilted her head to the side.
“Thanks for shopping at The Buckle.”
“These fit funny,” I said, handing her the dirty jeans I was holding in my hand. “So, you may want to check them for correct sizing.”
“These are the correct size, and we’ll take these,” I said, taking the jeans from Erik and handing them to her.
She placed the first pair of jeans on the counter.
“I will check them later,” she assured me, popping her gum as she spoke.
As she rang up the jeans, Erik nudged me aside and pulled money from his front pocket.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Taking care of you,” he responded.
He handed her a 100 dollar bill, and received the change. She placed the jeans in the bag, and handed it to him, smiling.
“Thanks for shopping at The Buckle. And, uhhm, you guys make a cute couple,” she said as we were turning to walk away.
Wow. She was a perceptive dumb bitch.
KELLI. “Say Penelope, I want to watch you say Penelope,” he asked, his hand resting on his chin, his elbows on the table.
“Penelope,” I said slowly, focusing on the “p”s.
“Two more,” he requested.
“Watermelon.”
“Watermelon,” I responded, feeling my lips come together on the “m”.
‘Perpendicular.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” I asked.
“Say it,” he demanded, smiling.
“Perpen. Dick. I want your dick. I want you to fuck me. That motorcycle ride has me horny as fuck. I never really knew that they did that. Made you horny,” I said, writhing in my seat.
“Perpendicular.” he said again. “Say it, Kelli, don’t disappoint me.”
I hated the thought of disappointing Erik. The notion of it crushed me, and made me feel ill. Whether or not he was joking when he made reference to me disappointing him, I had no idea. All I knew was that if I ever did anything to disappoint him, I wanted to know. I really wanted to know, and to never allow it to happen again.
“Per…pen…dic…u…lar,” I drew the word out as slow as I could, syllable by syllable, and then repeated it slowly.
“Perpendicular.”
I felt like I was in a spelling bee, but just saying the word, and not being required to actually spell it. I thought of how to spell perpendicular. I remembered that the pen part of the word was spelled with an “e” just like writing the word with a pen, and not an “i”.
“I like watching your lips form words. Watching your mouth move, and hearing the words flowing from your lips and tongue. You amaze me, baby girl. You amaze me,” he said from across the table.
“Your lips are perfectly sculpted. Your mouth is perfectly proportioned. It aligns with your eyes perfectly, as if you were an art project. It’s easy to get lost in admiring you, Kelli, really easy.”
I felt warm inside. I felt so good when he was pleased with me. My best and worst feelings were a result of Erik’s pleasure or disappointment. When he tells me that he is pleased with me, I am a greater degree of happy than I have ever known. When he is disappointed with me, I feel as if I wasn’t given an opportunity to correct it, life would not be worth living. To think…two months ago, I did not even know this man. I didn’t like thinking about life before him, nor did I like thinking about September.
“I want to find out more about you. I want to know everything about you, Kelli. I want to know what you do when you’re startled. How you react. I want to see you shoot a basket. I want to watch you walk in the warm rain. Smell a flower,” he took a drink of his water, and continued.
“I want to watch you count on your fingers. Choose food from a menu you’re uncertain of, but afraid to ask about. Use chopsticks,” as soon as he said chopsticks, I smiled, thinking of the day at Espresso A Go-Go.
“Fry an egg, wash your car by hand, tear up a sheet of paper, attend a wedding, ride a rollercoaster,” he paused, looking at his glass of water for a long moment.
“Just everything, Kelli, I want you to be yourself in front of me,” he said, continuing to look down at his water.
“I am myself for you, Erik.”
“Oh, I am aware that you are. I mean that I want to witness you being you. Watch you grow, live life, exist. Kelli, I want to see you doing all of the things that you do, and be all of the things that you are able to be,” he said, looking up from his water.
This all sounded good to me. It sure didn’t sound as if he intended to drop me like a hot rock at the first opportunity he had to do so. Eager, uncertain, and scared, I responded.
“Making you happy makes me happy. I just want to make you happy,” I said, with my palms on each cheek, resting my chin on the heel of my palms.
I thought about it, and I took a chance. I wanted to try to find out what he was thinking, what he intended for us, and how long this may last. I felt like I was riding an emotional roller coaster against a clock, not knowing when the time would run out.
“I like what we have together. Being with you makes me happy. I like the adventurous sex, and how you’re spontaneous with it. I enjoy it, and I could do this forever, and be happy,” I said as I brushed my hair behind my ears.
Erik had said he really liked my hair behind my ears, and I had been trying to remember to do this as often as possible.
“Kelli, the extent of what we have done, sexually…well, it’s just one facet of my sexual life - my sexual preferences. I am slowly, and I do mean slowly exposing you to what a sexual relationship with me would consist of. I am not an exhibitionist, by any means. Movie theatres, patios of restaurants, and dressing rooms at the mall, those are acts of spontaneity. That is not, in any fashion, the extent of my sexual prowess or interest. As I said, it is a facet. One cut on the face of a stone that will later become a diamond. Do you understand?” he asked in a matter of fact tone.
“Yes, sir,” I responded quickly. I was both scared and excited. I wondered what else he intended to do with me. A sexual relationship with me…I wonder what he means by that. Not the sexual part, but the relationship part. We hang out and fuck with no commitment? I may not have committed to him, but I was convinced that no other man could satisfy me. I suppose that was some form of commitment. Sitting here thinking was making me want more of an answer. I had everything to lose, but the curiosity was killing me.
We were sitting outside in a covered patio area of what looked like an old airplane hangar that had been turned into a restaurant and club. The hangar doors were open, and the wind was blowing through the hangar. One set of doors faced the runway of the little airport, and the planes were flying in and out as we sat and talked. It wasn’t hot out for this time of year, but my tea glass was covered in moisture. I took my hand and wiped the cold layer of moisture from the glass, collecting it in my hand.
“I understand the sex, the sexual part of the relationship. I understand that, but what about the relationship? What does our relationship consist of? In your eyes?” I asked as I wiped the moisture from my hand onto my forehead, and then ran my hand through my hair.
“That’s you and
I being together. Like we are now, doing things together,” he responded, outstretching his arms, “this is the relationship.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything. Sex and hanging out, that’s it?” I felt myself starting to get frustrated.
“Are you disappointed baby girl?”
It wasn’t as satisfying knowing that he was saying baby girl to try to get me to shut up - to try to satisfy me. We had started this conversation, and I wanted to get some satisfaction out of the answers, regardless of what they were.
“I guess, I don’t know. I mean, I want to know what you’re thinking long term. I don’t care where this ends up. I mean, well, I do, but I don’t. Whatever you answer, I am going to be the same person with the same interests. But I want to know what you’re thinking. In a perfect world, as you always say, where do we end up?” I asked as I stared at my glass, waiting for more moisture to collect.
“Well, let’s see. Kelli, I enjoy your company. I enjoy your company immensely. I want to make the most of this – what we have, and for both of us to be happy with it,” he responded quietly, as if that solved the questions I had asked.
“No. I want an answer. You talk in circles about things that you don’t want to answer. Us. You and I. Am I different enough? Do I spark enough interest in you that I qualify for something…anything that other girls in the past haven’t? Is it too early to tell? Are all women the same to you? Is this the same…”
“Stop. Let me try to explain,” he interrupted.
“No, let me finish,” I asked.
“Let me finish, Kelli, I think this will answer everything,” he said.
“Ok.”
“Let me see. You are different to me, much different. This is not something I had intended to talk about today, or really even in the next month or so, but this is how I feel.” He paused, took a drink of water, and continued.
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