by Paula Mabbel
“Anyway, I've brought you your scarf. Polka dot. I think I'm gonna call you that.”
“Why?” Somehow he always made me feel better, so I went along with this line of talk. Especially since it kept his dick off my mind.
“Well, mainly because of the polka dot scarf that you forgot in my car. Twice. You seem to love this thing.”
“I do. It was my grandmother’s. She always looked good, no matter what.”
“And now I know who you take after.”
I didn't know why, but I felt the urge to kiss him. I started fidgeting with my fingers, trying to control myself.
Maybe it was the nostalgia of remembering my grandmother, or the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about him these past weeks, but all I knew was that I wanted this man.
“What's the other reason?” I asked, trying to settle the butterflies in my stomach.
“You're a dot.” The seriousness in his voice and the abruptness of his answer made me pause before I started laughing out loud.
“What?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“Dot is the last thing anyone has ever called me.”
“You don't like it?”
“I do. It's just that I've always been taller than the average girl, so no one ever thought of me as a dot.”
“Oh, to me you're a dot. So, where can I drop you off?”
“It's alright, I can take the subway.” I started to say goodbye, but paused. I had an idea. “Have you had lunch already?”
He checked his shiny wristwatch with a flick of his wrist that gave me nauseating butterflies.
“No. Haven't even had breakfast. What's your suggestion?”
“I know a place,” I said, cryptically.
He opened the door for me and I hopped in. I bit my lip, so nervous about my plan I could've choked on air. I never was too forward with guys before, but I felt it was time with him. He had been a complete gentleman so far and, if I were to take Debby seriously, he liked me enough to deviate from his usual pattern.
“What's it called?” he asked, pointing to the GPS.
“It's called a GPS,” I said, as he was starting to type. He turned his face to me, frowning. God, those lips, I thought and reached my hand into his hair. I pulled him close and kissed him like I never kissed anyone. Deep, hungry, my body quivering with the boldness of my move.
He soon took over, holding me close, giving me the chance to let go, let him lead from what I've started. When we finally came up for air, I couldn't take my eyes off his. I was completely lost in their blue trap and I didn't want to get out.
“Where are we going?” he asked, holding my hand tightly.
“Home,” I said and typed in my address.
*****
I was quivering like it was my first time, my face flushed, my eyes cast mostly downwards.
“God, you're so cute,” he whispered, coming closer.
With one hand, he lifted my chin while the other went around my back, settling on my now too sensitive skin. It sent a stronger shiver through my body and he caught it.
“Baby dot, are you sure about this?”
What was wrong with me?
I nodded. “It's nothing. Just that I haven't been with anyone in some time and…”
“And Deb scared you with stories about my cock.”
“What? No! How did you...”
“You couldn't stop staring at my crotch the entire drive here.” I blushed. “Besides, it sounds like something Deb would do.”
“I'm sorry. Is it true?”
He chuckled, watching me bite my lip.
“Don't worry, I'll make sure not to hurt you, dot.” He pulled me close into his arms, my cheek resting on his bare chest. I sighed. It was true, then.
His hands first wandered over my back, caressing my skin slowly, then eventually his fingers slipped under my bra and unclasped it gently. Instantly, my ample breasts popped out, the bra just a sad excuse of a cover. I pulled back to get rid of it and caught him biting his lip. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I tried to cover my tits with my hands but it was impossible to manage both in a decent manner. He growled and snatched my hands off.
“Don't, baby. They're gorgeous.”
Next thing I knew, I was in the air, my legs wrapped around his waist, his mouth suckling my nipples feverishly. The force of his hunger threw me off and I moaned loudly.
“Fuck, you're perfect,” he mumbled, looking at me with glassy eyes.
He moved with me towards the double bed in my room and placed me on top. Unzipping my jeans, he continued kissing my breasts, then down my belly, until he reached the waistband. In a split of a second, I was left wearing only my tiny panties, but Peter didn't like them one bit, if I were to judge by the speed with which they followed the same fate as my jeans and ended up somewhere on the floor.
“Fuck. I think I need some assistance.”
“With what?” I was so tense, I didn't get that he was joking.
“Relax, baby. I need you wet if I am to at least try not to hurt you.”
Instinctively, I closed my legs. I felt embarrassed for not being ready, and angry at the same time.
“Shh,” he said, running his hands over my thighs. “Let me in, baby. Trust me, I don't want to hurt you. OK?”
I nodded and let him spread my legs. He smiled and leaned down to kiss my lips, a deep kiss that left me wanting for more. Giving me a last look that promised dirty pleasures, he shifted down my body, trailing kisses all over, nibbling at my nipples, circling my navel with his tongue. I squealed under him, unable to stop my hands from grabbing onto his perfectly black hair.
Slowly, he had reached my pussy, never stopping the gentle caress his lips were giving my skin. He looked up one more time, licking his lips in anticipation, before tasting my pussy. I moaned, feeling his tongue along my slit, gently at first, but gradually becoming fast lapping that shook my world. I squirmed, my thighs coming closer around his head.
He pushed my right thigh down with one hand, while using the other to circle my clit. He watched my face as he rubbed my pussy, his eyes hooded and filled with desire. He looked like he wanted me so much, I couldn't take it. I closed my eyes.
To get back my attention, he changed gears and pushed a finger inside me, leaving the clit for his expert mouth. My eyes popped open as my lungs couldn't bear the sensation any longer.
I cried out, my hips moving on their own accord, grinding on his face as he picked up speed.
“Oh, baby, you taste like heaven,” he said, sitting up. I looked into his eyes, my mouth half open as if I wanted to say something but my brain lagged behind.
“Please, fuck me,” I whispered, oblivious of how I looked or what I was saying.
“Your wish is my command, baby.”
Standing, he pulled his jeans off and I could finally see the bulge in his boxers. It was huge and it made me want him more. I moaned, spreading my legs for him, my hands playing with my body in an invitation to make me his.
With a grunt, he lost the boxers as well and, although I expected him to be big, my mouth fell open at his actual size. I have never seen a cock so big, be it black or white, both in length and in girth. It hung heavy, riddled with veins, and I couldn't help but think how much of a shower he was.
I caught his smirk and smiled.
“That'll hurt me no matter what you do,” I said, purring like a kitten.
“Oh, well, I can't get any smaller, baby dot.”
He crawled on top and kissed me. “What's your favorite position?” he asked.
“From behind.”
He moaned. “God, if it were just a one night stand I'd so do you like that from the start.”
“Oh?” I asked, both for his remark about us and for what he wanted to do to me.
“Yes, baby. But I don't want you to run away before I can cum.”
While talking, he was fingering my pussy, trying to stretch it slowly. I moved my hips in his hand, almost on the brink of cumming.
&nb
sp; “So you're worried only about you cumming, then?”
“Oh, you'll cum, don't worry.”
“Is that so?” I was still playfully talking when he thrust his cock inside me. I cried out loud.
“Shh, baby. I'm sorry.”
“Oh, my God!” I had no other words to describe what I was feeling. A lone tear slid down the side of my face, not out of fear but painful pleasure.
It was something new, filling me to the brink, stretching my pussy to the limit.
He started moving in and out, slowly, letting me accommodate him on my own terms.
I bit my lip, feeling how he gradually pushed inside me, sliding inch by inch into my wetness. Instinctively, I started clenching my muscles, as pleasure began pooling into my core.
He didn't need to do anything more, just by the shock of his size he was bringing me to orgasm fast. And he wasn't even fully inside me yet.
One more thrust and I screamed.
“What did I do?” he asked, his face the picture of concern.
“I think you hit my cervix,” I said and giggled.
“What? No way. I haven't even gotten half in.”
“You're kidding, right?” That couldn't be true, surely.
“I'm serious!”
I deflated, unhappy with myself.
“What's the matter, baby dot? It doesn't feel good to you?”
“Oh, it feels godly. It feels like nothing I ever felt.”
“Then what's the matter?” He was thrusting again, slower, paying attention to my reactions. To me, he wasn't making things any better. His rhythm was driving me crazy, his cock stretching me in the most pleasurable way.
I moaned, trying to settle my core and delay my orgasm. It would be unfair, I thought, biting my lip with all the strength I was capable of.
“Let it go, baby. Don't think,” he whispered, catching on to what I was doing.
“I can't. I shouldn't,” I managed to say, between moans.
“Why, baby?”
“What about you?”
He chuckled. “Oh, I'll cum, baby, don't worry,” he said, ramming faster into me, fighting my holding back.
He picked up speed, fucking me harder, magically managing not to hurt me more than I could take.
The edges of the sweetest orgasm came together into an explosion of color and tears of joy.
I fought for air, too busy surviving this beauty to notice his body jerking over mine, muscles contracting in the same pleasure he was giving me.
It took me a long time to come back to a state even remotely looking like consciousness. Finally opening my eyes, I met his, which were boring into mine, satisfaction all over his face.
“Are you alright, baby dot?”
“Oh, yes,” I cooed. “I need some water.”
He laughed, rolling off me. I sat up and turned to kiss him before getting to my feet. Good thing he was lying close to the edge because my knees gave out under my weight and I would've fallen if not for his strong arms catching me.
“Careful, baby dot,” he laughed, obviously pleased to be the one who did that to me.
I stuck my tongue out and started for the door. Crossing my living room, I paused next to the coffee table where my phone was temptingly waiting. “No, I wouldn't, surely,” I thought, pouring a glass of water.
As it turned out, I would, as the next thing I remembered was sitting on the toilet, texting Debby about how amazing everything was.
*****
Searching for coffee in his apartment had been an adventure the first time I stayed the night. Today, I just knew to brace myself for the labyrinth I had to pass through to get to the kitchen.
Gingerly rolling close to the edge of the bed, I sneaked out of the covers and stood. Peter was still sleeping. Phew.
I put his t-shirt on and left for downstairs. He had the best coffee machine in the world and I loved pulling the lever down. I had enough strength for this operation only in the mornings, when the need for caffeine was dire. Anything after the first cup and I needed his assistance.
I was humming, happily clutching the mug of fresh coffee, when I felt his hands around my waist.
“I think I'll get rid of this damn machine.”
“Nooo! Why?”
“It keeps stealing you away from me in the mornings.”
He leaned in and kissed me.
“Jealous of a lifeless thing, are we?” I asked, more cooing than actually talking.
“Yes. Anything that gets you out of my arms is my enemy.”
I giggled like a little girl, happy that he wanted me so much.
“I could say the same about that thing,” I said and pointed to his ringing phone. He mouthed “sorry” and picked up. Another Russian connection.
I waited patiently, not understanding a word of what he was saying, but enjoying the roughness of the language, until he was finished. When he turned to me, he looked upset.
“What is it, baby?”
“My father.”
“Did something happen?”
He nodded. “Another heart attack. He's not well, they're telling me.”
“Oh, my God. What are you going to do?”
He sat down, shrugging.
“I need to go and see him. I barely met him when I arrived, and I wouldn't want to lose him before we had the chance to talk again.”
“I understand. When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
My heart sank. I pursed my lips, trying not to be selfish, and turned to fiddle with the stove.
“Are you having breakfast, baby?” I asked, suddenly concerned with his habit of skipping meals.
“I don't really feel like eating.”
“Oh, you're having breakfast.”
He chuckled as I searched in the fridge for eggs and bacon.
“What are you making?”
“A proper breakfast. My mother worked in a diner and she taught me how to make it.”
“OK. I love your cooking no matter what you're making. You know that, right?”
“Stop sucking up to me, you're having breakfast. End of discussion.”
Too preoccupied with keeping my selfishness in check, I didn't see him standing up. Suddenly, everything went upside down as he lifted me on his shoulder.
“What are you doing? Quit playing, the eggs are burning!” I tried to wiggle my way out but it was no use. I resigned myself to being suspended, laughing my heart out.
“Why haven't you seen your father more when you came here?” I asked, after he put me down.
“He left the next day. You don't leave business unattended in Russia.”
“You were the boss back there?” I was impressed.
“I am the boss up here, too.”
“What?”
I suspected my mouth was hanging open, as he started laughing.
“Like ‘the boss’ boss?”
“Yes, baby. That's why I came to the U.S. To take over the business here.”
“And your father?” I asked, honestly curious.
“He wasn't feeling so well, so he decided to go back to Mother Russia. You know, like a dog.”
“Wait, wait! First, do you actually say ‘Mother Russia’? And second, like a dog?”
I was gesturing with the spatula, so interested in the things I was learning.
He just laughed.
“As in, going back to die home. I think dogs do that. My father said it like that. And no, we don't.”
I made a scrunchy face at him for making fun of me.
“Are you proud you're the Russian Mob’s first lady?” he asked, pulling me into his arms.
“I am?”
“You're my woman, aren't you? And I'm the boss of the Mob. ‘The boss boss,’ as you so eloquently put it.”
I punched him in the arm.
“Sit down and eat your food, mister! There's no boss in this house before breakfast.”
“You sure act like one,” he mumbled under his breath, sitting down.