by Young, M. L.
“You guys just go. What do you need done? I’ll do it for you,” Morgan said.
“My laptop. Can you just go in later and make sure it’s closed? I don’t remember if I did it,” I said as I hurriedly slipped on my shoes.
“Yeah, just go!” Morgan said as she pushed us out the door.
•••
Tom rented a cab because of the reservation, and it wasn’t exactly the fanciest place, but it was popular, and the line was already out the door for the walk-ins.
The hostess sat us, the noise of the restaurant drowning out my own thoughts, and she handed us our menus, as a busboy promptly came and set down glasses of water and chips on the tiled tabletop.
“Have you ever been here before?” Tom asked as he opened his menu.
“Yeah, but never on a Saturday night,” I said as I looked around.
“Yeah, I didn’t know it would be this busy. I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. I’m happy just to be spending time with you,” I said with a smile.
“Same here,” he replied as he flashed his bright white smile.
The food was all the same, Tex-Mex. They had other things also, but it seemed like everyone in here had a taco, burrito, or fajitas. I usually didn’t mind this type of food, but there was one problem: it gave me gas. The last thing I needed was a big pile of beans to work their way through my system and make me gas Tom out all night long.
Our waitress, Maggie, came over not too long after and took our drink orders, which were just sodas. We munched on chips as she was gone, kind of just looking around the noisy restaurant instead of talking to one another, like we should’ve. I felt as though this place wasn’t the best restaurant to go to if you wanted to have a long and meaningful relationship with someone. I guess this was what I got for screwing Kurt behind Tom’s back.
When Maggie came back, we both ordered chicken fajitas, which I felt were a safe choice. Nothing in there would cause me problems later, and I loved build-your-own-food. That way I could control my portions and not put too much fattening cheese and sour cream inside, mostly because I didn’t want my waistband to get too tight.
“So, classes are going well?” I asked as a few minutes went by and we were waiting on our food.
“Yeah, but my French professor is really going hard on us lately. He is giving us a bunch of in class speaking and small play roles, which are rough,” Tom said before taking a sip of his drink.
“I’ve never been big on language. Sometimes I feel like I can barely get through the English language, let alone a new one,” I said.
“Me, too,” Tom said with a hearty laugh, as if I had found that funny bone.
“I mean, how can we be expected to learn something new like this? Maybe if we were four or something, but we’re fully grown! It’s just too much,” I said.
“How about the really active professors? Now, I’m all for a professor who takes an interest in the subject and students, but some of it is just too much. If I want to participate or if I know the answer, I’ll raise my damn hand. I don’t need you to call on me randomly and make me look like an idiot,” Tom professed.
Tom and I continued to talk, swapping joke, and feeling like old times. We didn’t seem like two awkward people trying to rekindle a romance in the slightest. It felt as though we’d never had a problem. Maggie brought over our meals within fifteen minutes, and Tom and I continued to talk, even at times with our mouths somewhat full as we ate. It was a dream, and I had been waiting for something this great to happen for a while. I never thought we’d end up like this.
We ate for forty minutes, taking our time and laughing as the conversation only stopped when we took a bite of food. The waitress seemed to want to get us out quickly as we were done, for the line was still wrapping outside and this table meant money for her. We took the hint and Tom paid the bill, leaving a twenty-five percent tip. I thought it was a little much, considering she wasn’t around that often, but I guess being in a good mood rubbed off on her, and she should feel lucky.
We walked outside, the music bumping out of the door behind us as the kids in line were all looking at the glowing screens of their smartphones, and I looked at Tom, who I hoped had more planned for this night. I loved dinner and spending the time with him, but to say I’d be disappointed with just this would be an understatement.
“I was thinking we could do something fun tonight. I like getting to know you more, and this night has been nothing but fun, so how do you feel about bowling?” he asked.
I hadn’t been bowling in at least six years. I think my highest score was seventy, and I wasn’t really that great at it, even if it was a simple game and concept. That being said, Tom seemed to want to do it, and who knew, it could be fun. Being open to new ideas and concepts is great when you were dating and trying to get to know someone better.
“That sounds fun,” I said.
“Great, let’s go.”
•••
The bowling alley was about a third of the way full, with a few groups and couples all playing around, none of them really taking the bowling seriously. Tom bought us a game, rented some shoes, and we were assigned lane twenty-one. As we walked over, the little screen overhead reset and the advertisements for local pizza parlors went away. The grid was now on the screen, and I claimed it quickly, ready to put in some stupid names for us.
“What do you want your name to be?” I asked.
“Tom,” he replied.
“No, come on, that’s boring! We need cool or funny names,” I said.
“How about eyes for you, and chop for me,” he said.
“Eyes?” I asked in confusion.
“Yeah, because once I look into your eyes, I can never move my gaze from you,” he said with a smile before putting his head down to put on his shoes.
I blushed, and typed in eyes for me and put in lips for him, taking away his dream of making his bowling name the same as his dog’s.
“Lips?” he asked as he stood up to get his ball.
“Yeah, because whenever I look at your lips I want to kiss them,” I said before getting up and walking away to get my ball, leaving him there with that thought.
I had to use a lighter ball, which was a few lanes down from the heavier ones he was looking at. I felt stupid getting a pink ball, usually for kids, but the finger holes fit just right and it was the right weight for me.
I put my ball in the ball return and sat down as I changed my shoes, which felt a little loose, but not too bad. I was first, and got up, waving my hand in front of the little air vent on the ball return, as if I were some hardcore seasoned veteran.
“Get ready to get beat,” I said with a playful smile.
I grabbed my ball and walked up to the little arrows, which I remember were supposed to help you keep the ball straight or something. I lined myself up and began to walk forward, before letting the ball go and watching it glide about three feet down the lane before plunkering down in the bunker.
“Great job,” Tom said as he slowly clapped, making my cheeks turn red in embarrassment.
“Oh shut up, not like you can do any better,” I said.
“Is that a bet?” he asked.
“Yup, it’s a bet if I’ve ever seen one,” I said.
“And the stakes?” he asked.
I sat there, tapping my fingers on my leg, as I tried to think of something good. Maybe a drink, or a foot massage after I pulled them out of these stinky shoes. No, those were no good. I needed something good, something that would make him work, even though I knew he would easily win.
“If you beat me at this game, you can come inside when you take me home,” I said with a smile, obviously hinting at something more than just a sweet little date.
“Really?” he asked, not sarcastically, but in shock.
“If you think you can win,” I said.
Tom put his hand in front of the air vent, drying off the sweat that was likely now forming, as the stakes were set.
&nb
sp; “I know I can win,” he said before turning around and taking his first turn, which was a strike.
I tried to convey a sense of fear in my eyes, although all I wanted was for him to win. I couldn’t let him know that, though. I had to try and make myself look like I was doing the best I could. I knew, though, especially after his strike, I didn’t stand a chance, just like I wanted.
•••
The game entered the final frame, and surprisingly, the score was closer than I thought. I had seventy-three, and he had eighty-two. That strike must’ve been some huge stroke of luck, for it all went downhill for him after he scored it. I tried to do poorly, but I didn’t want to blatantly throw the ball in the gutter. Besides, at this point, I almost wanted to beat him. I knew he’d still come over anyway, and I could at least say I won.
I got up to bowl, grabbing my ball, and tossed it down the waxed and glossy lane. I watched anxiously as it went down, before finally hitting the pins. I hit six of them, meaning I had four left to go. They were all scattered, none of them wanting to let up and give me an easy time. My pink ball came back, and I picked it up, looking back at Tom as he was smiling, for he didn’t think I could hit them all. I walked up to the markers, took a deep breath, and walked forward before releasing my ball. One pin, that was all I hit, and that was a stroke of chance and luck. My ball hit the gutter halfway down the lane, and only hit a pin because it was already on the edge of the gutter lane, my ball just nicking it slightly.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, cements my win,” Tom said as he got up to take his turn.
I pushed him jokingly on my way back, and sat down, knowing it was over. He could hit the gutter and I wouldn’t win. I lost, and I accepted it.
Tom ended up hitting five pins in both of his turns, which was nice because at least I hit more pins in the final frame. He just got lucky was all.
Animated pins danced on the small score-screen before Tom and I took off our shoes, which were starting to feel a bit clammy and sticky inside.
“Well, it looks like I won,” he said as he grabbed my shoes to take back to the counter.
“Yeah, you did. I’m a woman of my word, though, so I will let you come inside,” I said.
“Looking forward to it,” he said with a wink before he walked up to the counter and I was left putting on my shoes.
I slipped them on and walked up to Tom, who was up front and looking inside a toy claw machine, which had unusually greasy looking metal claws inside.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“I’m ready,” I said as the butterflies filled my stomach.
This was it. I was finally going to have Tom alone in my room.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you sure you actually tried?” Tom asked as we walked out of the bowling alley, which was around ten or so minutes from my apartment.
“Yeah, don’t you believe me?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know. You made up that bet pretty fast and then you lost.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to come in?”
“No…not at all.”
“Then just be happy,” I said as I grabbed his hand and laced my fingers with his.
He shut up, kept walking, and didn’t let my hand go. The feeling of his skin against mine, even if it was just his hand, made my heart skip a beat. He was cute, especially when he doubted me like he did, and I couldn’t wait for him to finally come inside and spend some time with me at my place. Maybe we could cuddle up, get in bed, and watch a movie. That does sound nice…but I had something better in store.
Our walk was pretty boring, not much small talk, even though we got stopped at three crosswalks, and we arrived at my apartment twelve minutes after leaving the bowling alley. We walked up the wooden steps, the planks squeaking and bowing under our weight, and I shuffled in my purse for my keys as Tom stood there, his hands resting patiently in his pockets.
“Here they are,” I said as I pulled out my silver and golden keys, jingling them.
I put the key in the deadbolt, followed by the handle, and opened the door to the cool apartment.
“Morgan left the window open,” I said as I saw the blinds on our kitchen window lightly blowing, letting in all of the cold air.
Tom followed me in, and I closed the door behind him, locking it, and chucking off my shoes as he kneeled down and unlaced his. I walked over to the window and closed it, before walking down the hallway to see if Morgan was home. Her bedroom lights were off, the bathroom was empty, and I knew she must’ve been gone. I don’t know where she went, but she wasn’t here, and that meant I got some alone time with Tom, even if it’s not for too long. She probably just went to get takeout or something.
“So, this is it,” I said as I put my arms up.
“It’s nice, I like it,” he said with a smile.
“Would you like to sit down?” I asked, unsure of where to take the conversation.
“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he said before coming over and sitting down next to me, as I sat down a second before him.
“So, you like living here?” he asked.
“Yup, it’s really nice,” I said awkwardly.
As I sat there, not knowing how to proceed with this date or the conversation, he grabbed my face, and quickly pressed his lips against mine, taking me by complete surprise. My eyes were still open, looking at his, which were closed, before I slowly closed mine and enjoyed the moment. This wasn’t like him…all aggressive and quick, but I kind of liked it. We both gasped for air before going back in, his tongue now knocking at my door, wanting to see if mine could come out and play. I obliged, letting his in, dancing and playing tag with my tongue, as if they were two kids out on the playground. His right hand brushed my hair back, the same hair that had fallen in my face and almost got into my mouth. I sat there, my hands in my lap, as I felt almost unsure of where to place them. Do I grab his arm, his hand?
“You’re…so…sexy,” he said in between gasps of air.
I grabbed his bicep, feeling it bulge, as I squeezed tenderly, my core beginning to tingle. This is what I wanted…what I desired. He was finally showing me that even though he was vanilla, he still had some sprinkles he could shower on top of my ice cream. He was being more like Kurt…and right now, that was a good thing.
The kissing didn’t stop. In fact, it got heavier and more intense. I—in an act of bravery and lust—climbed on top of him, our clothes still on, but our bodies rubbing up against one another. I was riding him, grinding him, and I could feel his erection starting to grow, as if I were the snake charmer summoning his cobra out to play.
Tom’s hands wandered, rubbing along my ass before slightly squeezing my cheeks. I stopped kissing, looked at him, then slapped him across the face, his expression one of shock, as I went back in, and resumed our kissing again. He responded by spanking me, a faint red mark surely left on my bottom, as my skin tingled from the contact of his hand.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I asked as I placed my hand under his chin, lowering my hand to his neck, and squeezed lightly.
“What got into you?” he asked with a smile.
“Pretty soon you’re going to be into me,” I said as I grinded myself ever so slightly against him.
“Fuck,” he said before slapping my bottom again, this time harder, letting me feel the warmth of the red handprint he had to have left.
I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it up over his head. I rubbed my hands against his pecs, the smooth skin accenting his features as my hands moved down his abs and counted them one by one.
“Don’t I get to take yours off?” he asked.
“Dominate me and you will,” I said.
“Deal,” he said before slapping me lightly on the face, yet hard enough to leave a little tingle on my skin.
I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up, the sheer pink and camisole underneath being quickly thrown to the ground as my breasts were popping out of my bra. He stared at them, unable to take his ey
es off them as my small little nipples were at the edge of the fabric.
“Like them?” I asked.
“Love them,” he replied as his hands groped my bottom.
“Come on,” I said before getting off of him, grabbing our shirts, and taking his hand to lead him to my room.
The room was dark as we walked in. I immediately closed the door behind us and turned on my lamp, giving us some light.
“Get on the bed,” I said, pointing at it as I gave him the order.
He walked by me, jumping on the bed and lying back, his left arm behind his head, propping it up against the pillow.
I put my hands behind me and grabbed the zipper on the back of my skirt, pulling it down and letting it fall to the ground. I stepped out of it, kicking it aside, as Tom rubbed his erection through his pants. I stood there, just in my bra and panties, as I put my right index finger in my mouth and sucked it, sort of like a precursor to what was about to come.
“Do you like watching me suck things?” I asked.
“I love it,” he replied.
“My finger isn’t big enough though. Do you know anything bigger I can suck on?” I asked with almost pouty eyes, as I saw him getting bigger inside his pants.
“I know of something,” he said as he rubbed himself, hinting at what I should suck on.
I walked over, unbuckled his belt and pants button, and pulled both his boxers and pants down past his ankles as they were quickly thrown to the floor. He was lying there naked, his erection standing straight up like a flagpole. His nectar was already seeping out of the top of his head, showing me just how turned on he was.
I climbed on the bed, moving him farther toward the middle of the bed, as I spread his legs apart and bent myself over, my bottom high up in the air. I grabbed his shaft, gripping it tightly in my hand, as I slowly began to stroke it up and down. I watched him squirm, trying to bunch up the pillows behind his head so he could get a better look. I heard that getting head was one thing, but watching the girl perform it on you was so much better.
I moved my mouth in, opening it and letting the warmth of my breath pound against him, as if I were teasing him. I giggled, my mouth still open, as I kissed his shaft slowly, feeling the blood rush inside and make it as hard as he could get. I moved down, still stroking him, as I licked his balls, sucking one into my mouth as he let out a faint moan. His ball fell out of my mouth, and my tongue, still against his sack, ran up his erection and up the shaft, before finding its way to the head. I sucked it in quickly, every inch of it floating down my mouth and into my throat, as I gargled my spit and made his eye twitch. I pulled up, gasping for air, as my spit provided much needed lube, letting my fast moving hand slip up and down with no problems.