by Jamie Knight
Quickly, I remembered the other mint chocolate chip carton in the freezer. I volunteered, “How about I get another? I always keep a spare on hand.”
Before he could answer, I jumped up from the couch and ran into the kitchen. I grabbed a bag of popcorn and dumped it into a bowl. I pulled out the other carton of ice cream and grabbed another spoon.
I checked my reflection in the glass on the cabinet before returning to the living room to make sure that I looked okay. Other than my hair being a bit frizzy from the approach of summer, I had to admit that I looked pretty good.
I marched back into the living room, snacks in hand, and plopped next to Bradley on the couch. I sat right next to him, feeling the warmth of his leg against mine. This time, he didn't move away. That made me feel happy and more hopeful.
“I hope you don't mind that I've put on a different movie,” he said, sounding apologetic. “I just can't take the depressing stuff right now.”
I looked up at the screen and saw that he was watching a comedy. Had I been thinking, I would have realized that that probably would have been a better idea in terms of cheering me up rather than watching a sad romantic movie.
But, I knew that I wasn't going to pay attention to the new movie anyway, now that Bradley was sitting there. I was more curious about how his date had gone, despite also wondering if finding out about it would lead to more harm than good.
“So, how did your date go?” I asked, drawing my legs up under me and angling my body so that I could see him better.
He winced and shook his head.
“Let's just say that it was definitely ice cream-worthy,” he said. A laugh spilled out of my mouth before I had a chance to think.
“Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry. I don't mean to laugh. But, I have been there. I was always under the impression that only women drowned their sorrows in a carton of ice cream.”
“Oh no,” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “Men do the same thing. We just do it secretly, so that no one will know. I, on the other hand, proudly wear my ice cream eating binges like a badge of honor.”
He smiled, as his heavy fist rapped on his hard chest.
“Okay, what happened?” I asked, my curiosity starting to get the better of me, but also suspicion. “You're such an amazing, charming, and handsome man. How in the world could any date with you not be awesome?”
“Why, thank you… for the compliment,” he said, smiling graciously with a hint of coolness behind his sharp eyes. “But I have a confession to make.”
“Well, what is it?” I asked, genuinely curious now. I felt stabs of jealousy but also intrigue as I wondered what this confession could be.
“I didn’t really have a date today,” he said.
I looked at him in shock, my mouth hanging open. What? No date? If he had only known the agony I had gone through, thinking of him on this non-existent date. I guessed I should feel happy that it hadn’t happened, but I was more stunned, and rather upset that he had lead me into thinking that there was a date when there wasn’t.
I was too surprised to say anything. My eyes were glued to him as he continued.
“I went on a dating app because I thought I needed to find something— someone— to distract me from… everything. But I couldn’t end up going through with it. I just felt that the timing wasn’t right. And then I got a job interview, so I thought I should show up for that instead.”
I stared at him in confusion. So that was why he was so dressed up, claiming to be going on a date in the middle of the day. It all made more sense now. Except it also brought up a couple more questions. Ones that were so burning inside me, I couldn’t help but ask them.
Chapter 23 - Natalia
“Why did you not want to go on a date?” I asked Bradley.
He opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking hesitant. I could tell he wanted to say something more and then thought better of it.
“I’ve been afraid to show my scars for the first time to anyone,” he finally said. “I don’t think I’m ready.”
I looked over at him and saw the redness in his eyes. They held a pained look of loneliness, one that I knew all too well.
It was then that I realized that he hadn't been with anyone since his accident. I could see that he didn’t want his first attempt at anything romantically to be rejected, because of his accident, which was the very thing that made him self-conscious.
“I’m sure they’re not as bad as you think they are,” I tried to reassure him.
“They’re pretty bad,” he said, with a sigh. “I noticed the nurse flinch when she pulled back the sheets in my hospital bed. And she’s a trained professional, experienced at seeing such things and dealing with such patients. It was obviously still shocking, even to her. I can only imagine what a woman that I wanted to get… intimate… with might think of them.”
I couldn’t believe that nurse. It made me angry that someone could be so shallow. Here he was, an incredible man, one with virtue and honor, something that you didn't find every day, and because of something as superficial as an accident, she flinched. Even though I knew it was probably a visceral reaction she couldn’t control, I still wished I could go give her a piece of my mind.
However, while I was angry that he had gone through that, part of me felt relieved that he didn’t go on the date, for whatever reason. It gave me the chance to spend more time with him. This was it and I was going for it. It was time I asked him my other question.
“I’m sorry that happened,” I told him. “But I really don’t think it should scare you off from ever dating. I guess what I’m wanting to know, then, is… why did you tell me you were going on a date if you weren’t?”
He looked at me, suddenly aware that I’d caught him hiding something from me. It was obvious that he had been telling me part of the truth but there was more to it. Now, I was asking for all of it.
“Natalia,” he said, in a way that made my name sound more beautiful than it ever had before. “I’ll go ahead and be honest with you. It seems I’m no good at lying anyway. I was trying to go on a date because I wanted to distract myself from you. I felt I’ve been too focused on… you… and that it’s inappropriate, due to… the age difference and your father helping me out so much… so, I wanted to try going on a date with someone else.”
My heart was doing somersaults as he told me this, but I didn’t want to interrupt him by saying anything. I was so happy to find out that he had been thinking about me as much as I’d been thinking about him.
“Since my whole goal was to put distance between us,” he continued, “even though I couldn’t bring myself to go on an actual date, I decided to just tell you that’s where I was going, so that in case you were having the same… inclinations… that I was, that you would realize it’s only right for you to focus on other things like I was doing, or planning to do. Boys your own age, and such.”
I looked at him and shook my head, because dating boys my own age was the last thing I wanted to do. But now that he was talking, it seemed he didn’t want to stop.
“I went to the job interview, which I guess went all right, but we’ll see if they call me back,” he said. “And then I went to the library and looked at some interview and resume books, and read a bit of a military suspense book, anything to try to get my mind off you. When I got home and saw you here though, I realized it was all futile. No matter what I try, you’re still on my mind.”
It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me. I wanted to plunge in head first and not be afraid of where the leap would take us. I wanted to know Bradley— all of him.
“I want to see your scars,” I blurted out, before I had time to realize—or back out of—what I was saying.
Bradley turned his head slowly and looked at me, confused, like he was trying to see if I was being serious or joking. When he saw that I was serious, he shook his head so hard, I thought I’d ruined everything.
“N
o, that's okay,” he said, crossing his leg and shifting away from me slightly. But, I pressed on.
“No, seriously, I want to see them. I know that you’re afraid to show them to me, but I promise I won’t think badly of you. I just want to know all of you—how you really are.”
“You know, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” he said. “I know I’ve just bared my soul but we really need to think about the best next step here, which might be none at all. I appreciate what you're trying to do, though.”
I didn't bother to hide my disappointment. He was pushing me away again. I didn't want to wake up tomorrow and see that he was going on yet another date, so I took my chance and did something that I didn't think that I would ever do.
I got down on my knees and started trying to lift up the leg of his PJ bottoms.
“Whoa, stop...” he said, reaching down to catch my hand.
I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. I had crossed the line and I knew it. I had no idea what I was thinking or why I was acting this way. It was as if something had come over me and was pushing me to do things that weren’t normally within my character.
“I'm sorry,” I began, standing up and backing away.
“No, it's okay,” he said, apologetically. “It's just that you can't see the scars that way. The only way that you can see them is if I pull down my pants. And that’s a no-go.” His voice was final.
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I offered quickly. I didn’t want to lose this moment. “I’m just… here for you.”
My words had a strange effect on him. As certain as he’d just seemed, now it was like I’d turned his lock and the deadbolt had fallen away. He nodded slowly, more to himself than me.
“Okay,” he said, to no one in particular.
This was it. This was go time. It wasn’t the way I had been expecting it to happen, but it was happening, and I was ready.
Chapter 24 - Natalia
Bradley put his hands on the waist of his pants, getting ready to pull them down. I looked away shyly, wanting to give him some sense of dignity. When he had pulled his pants down, I looked back at him.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at his scars in silence. His boxers stayed up, covering his manhood. Just under the boxers’ hem on his thigh, a sinewy line wove down the side of his leg, towards his knee. There, the line split like a river with many tributaries. Organic. Natural. It almost looked like body art.
Neither one of us spoke. The scars weren't exactly what you’d see on sports models, but they weren't bad at all. In fact, I found them kind of beautiful, in terms of visual appeal, but I also found them as proof of his bravery. I told him as much.
“I would hardly say that I got these scars being brave,” he said, sinking his head down. “I was just doing my job.”
“Are you being serious right now?” I asked, incredulously. “You chose that job. You could have chosen to do something else. You could have easily been a mechanic at any auto body shop. Or a self-employed mechanic. I know plenty of those guys who live around town, guys I went to school with. But, you decided to lend your skills to the United States Air Force in service of your country. And you got into an accident in combat. But, the thing is, even though the scars are something that you feel self-conscious about, you really shouldn't. These scars are proof that you survived.”
He gave me a look like he wasn't convinced.
I reached over and touched his scars gently, my fingers tracing the ridges that snaked around his thigh. Bradley closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his breath getting heavier by the second.
I could tell that he was enjoying the feel of my fingers gingerly running up and down his leg. He picked up a throw pillow and put it over his crotch. I couldn't be sure, but I had a feeling that he was hard and didn't want me to see it.
I couldn't resist any longer and wanted to take my chance before it escaped me yet again. I leaned down and tenderly kissed his hip. His eyes snapped open and he looked down at me as if he were trying to make sure that it was really happening.
He moved his hand toward me like he was going to push me away and hesitated. I kept on kissing his scars, landing juicy wet kisses on every inch of where there was scar tissue. His hand was resting on my shoulders as I kissed him.
Since he didn't stop me, I took it a step further. I stuck out my tongue and started licking his scars. He sucked air between his teeth, his eyes rolling up in his head. I reached over and felt around his underwear, pushing my hand over the fabric to feel his dick underneath.
Just like I thought, it was hard. And huge.
But, I didn't really have much to compare it to, other than the ones that I had seen in dirty magazines or porn. I was a virgin. But, sitting there, feeling on Bradley's dick was making my crotch heat up like crazy. I knew I was getting wet.
“Stop,” he said firmly, putting his hands on mine like he wanted to move it away. But, he didn't.
I ran my hand over his hard dick, gripping it in between my fingers firmly, yet still underneath the boxers. I moved the pillow away with my other hand and went to pull his dick out of his underwear.
I wanted him. But this time, his strong hand stopped me.
“Think,” was all he said, low and deep.
“I've never done this before,” I admitted to him.
“You don't need to.”
He said it so tenderly, putting his hand under my chin and raising my head so that my eyes met his. There was so much compassion in his eyes that it made me want him even more.
“No, I want to,” I said decisively. “I want… you.”
He looked at me carefully, as if he was searching for any shred of doubt or hesitation. I gave him a look, telling him that I was sure. I had been waiting for this moment since I saw him and started getting to know him.
I was ready.
But he wasn’t. He tensed his muscles, fists tight. “I won’t.”
“But I want you… to be my first. Please, don’t make me beg!” My voice rang high and loud.
I couldn’t believe my outburst. But my lust for him was raging below. I could barely keep my head straight, I was so fixated on needing his touch.
His face said a lot that I didn’t understand. I silently hoped my intensity would be recognized as the righteous need of a woman, and he would just get on with it and take my body as his own. But he didn’t move.
After an excruciating pause, he spoke. “This is what’s gonna happen. I will take care of your need tonight, in one way,” he grinned saucily and winked, “but not in every way. You’re going to sleep on that idea. Then, tomorrow, you check in with yourself and see how you feel about… what you want.”
He stood apart from me, still.
“Yes. Fine. Whatever. Just, touch me now.” It was all I could get out without jumping his bones. God, his tension and control was so hot, I was getting dizzy.
He stood before me, getting in close. He lifted his hands to rest on my shoulders. Right then, I surged upwards on my tiptoes so that I could meet his gorgeous lips in a sudden, hard kiss. I sunk into his mouth like an arrow for its target. I just needed to feel him, his skin, his muscles, his bones, his warmth.
His hands slid down my ass and squeezed and rubbed as new shivers of pleasure traveled up and down my body. I felt so secure in his arms. For what felt like forever, we kissed as his hands searched, found and thumbed my hard nipples.
I couldn’t hold back. I was so in want, I whispered, “Please, more… ” No one had ever drawn out that reaction from me, not in my entire life.
He laid me on the couch gently, and pushed up my sheer dress just above my breasts. My huge nipples rose high, as I relished the feeling of being naked below my neck and in front of a gorgeous, assured man.
His flashing eyes surveyed the length of my body hungrily. His mouth flew to my tits as his fingers rubbed my crotch expertly. I couldn’t believe the sensations he gave me. We’d just gotten star
ted, and the building pressure of sheer bliss in my pussy was already making my eyes roll back. I was definitely in the hands of a real man.
He came up and kissed me deeply, tenderly, then looked close into my eyes. His pupils were black in the darkened room. He said nothing, but waited.
I only said, “Please…”
His head sunk instantly down my neck, kissing, nipping and licking in ways I’d never felt. His other hand palmed my breast as he made a trail of nibbling kisses along my collarbone, down my chest, mouth tonguing my nipples in slow hard circles.
My pussy throbbed with need and I moaned again. Like a bloodhound, he picked up the scent and continued his tongue’s travels down my torso. He licked the ticklish sides of my midriff as his huge hands cupped my hips, thumbs making circles on my wide rounds.
I’d never felt anything like this when I made out with guys before. My body felt like a fine, rare violin and he was its virtuoso player. He brushed his nose on my belly below the button, kissing lightly and tonguing hard. He was taking the elevator straight down.
“You want me to eat your sweet little pussy, don’t you?” he asked, his voice sounding different than I’d ever heard it. It was low and deep, and full of need, but it also retained its normal commanding quality.
“Yes,” I nearly whispered, wanting his mouth on me so badly.
“You’re gonna give me your little virgin pussy to feast on? Because then it’ll be all mine,” he said.
He was acting so differently than the respectful, nearly awkward man who had tried to ward off my advances. I loved that I had brought this out of him. He was acting in charge, but I also knew it was because I had a powerful effect on him.
“Yes, please, eat my pussy,” I begged him, surprised at the words that were rolling out of my mouth. Apparently, he had a powerful effect on me, too. “I want your mouth on my pussy. Now. Please.”
When his tongue first made contact with my slick pussy, I thought a bomb had gone off. My body jerked with such intensity, I thought I was going to have an orgasm right then. It was like I was being pricked with his sexy lava wand on Instant Melt setting. My fingers clasped his head between my long legs and I ran them through his hair. A few times, I even pulled hard on his head to go further in, deeper, deeper.