Then, I open my eyes and look up at him. He’s looking right down at me. It’s so hot. So intense. I keep sucking. It feels good to know that I’m making him feel so good. I’m loving this.
His legs shake a little. I must not be half bad. Scratch that. I can tell he’s loving it. I keep going. I’m ready to taste him again. I know it will drive him crazy. He bites his bottom lip. I can taste a bit of his precum.
“Wait …”
I moan and keep sucking.
“Baby, come ride me.”
Oh no. Not that. Anything but that.
“Ride this cock. Come on …”
How can I ever resist this man, I think as I slowly pull my mouth off his rock hard cock. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on top. I can’t even remember the last time. I hope he doesn’t laugh.
I sit up and straddle his legs. He pulls me close and kisses me. Right away, I feel more at ease. More horny. More ready to do this. I grab his cock and rub it up and down my wet pussy lips. Damn, it feels good. He moans.
I slowly bring my hips down taking his whole dick inside of me. It’s so big! I yell, as I slowly bounce up and down. He grabs my tits. I look into his eyes.
I can totally control his cock, and there’s nothing he can do about it. I ride harder. I’m a little winded. But I keep going because it feels too fucking good to stop.
“Angelo! Angelo!”
“You gonna cum for me, baby?”
I nod my head because speaking is out of the question. I scream as I reach my climax. I’m so out of it that I kind of stop moving altogether. He cuffs my ass and bounces me up and down. He’s doing the work for both of us.
“Cathy, you feel so fucking good!”
“You do, too!”
“Oh fuck! Can I cum inside you, baby?”
I couldn’t tell Angelo no if I tried. And just like that, he grunts, and my pussy is filled up with his seed. It’s so fucking wet. My cum mixed with his cum. It’s simply beautiful. We’re sticky and joined and spent. I roll my hips just a bit and feel his cock twitching inside me, I’m getting every last drop.
I let the feeling linger for moment before I climb off of him, exhausted. I lie next to him, breathing like I just finished a marathon. He wraps his arm underneath me.
“Come here …”
I lay on his chest. His heart is beating really fast, too. He smooths my hair, and we stay like that not saying a word. I like it so much. Maybe too much.
It makes me a little sad to know that this is the last time. But I will be happy to remember him this way. I don’t have any regrets. At least that’s how I feel for now.
When I go home, I’ll probably cry and watch a Bridget Jones movie. But there won’t be any ice cream because that’s just too cliché. Why did something this wonderful have to happen to me after I found out I have this dreadful disease?
On the other hand, maybe I have to take some of the blame. Zoe always told me that I needed to live a little. And now that I’m dying, I guess I’m finally getting around to it.
Chapter Eleven
I hold Angelo tight, as we ride through the streets on his motorcycle. Look at me! I don’t recognize this woman at all. Not even remotely. I’ve lost count of all the new things I’ve tried in the past 24 hours.
“Right here!”
He pulls up in front of my condo. I wonder if the neighbors are watching as I hop off of the bike. I take off the helmet and try to fling my hair around. It’s my best attempt at looking sexy. I stare into his hazel eyes, not quite sure what to say.
“Um … um …”
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into a kiss. Our tongues dance. All the memories of our hot sex come flooding back. Is this a goodbye kiss? If so, it’s the sweetest goodbye I’ve ever known. He touches my face and smiles.
I’m about to do something really stupid, and I brace myself for the worst. The old me, not that I ever would have done anything like this, but the old me would be too scared to admit that I don’t want this to be goodbye. The new me—the terminally ill me—is willing to take a chance.
If Angelo doesn’t want to keep in touch, I’ll sob fat, salty tears. I’m sure of it. But it’s not like I’m going to ever run into him again. I won’t ever step foot in that bar. In fact, I might just stay away from bars altogether.
“I … I … um … Angelo, can I call you sometime?”
He hesitates.
“I know I wasn’t supposed to ask that. I just… I’m sorry. I had fun though.”
“Cathy, you were reading my mind.”
“Huh?”
“I was going to ask for your number, too, but I didn’t know if you wanted this to be just a one-time thing.”
“It’s 555-9214!”
“Hang on. Let me get my phone.”
He pulls his cell out of his jacket pocket.
“What is it?”
“555-9214.”
“Got it. Do you want mine?”
“Of course!”
I take my phone out of my purse and punch in the numbers, as he calls them out, I hope to God that he’s not just making it up. I will die if this turns out to be a number for Mexican takeout. I take a deep breath, as I hit the save contact button.
“So I guess I’ll see you.”
“Soon I hope.”
He’s just saying that. Soon? Really? How soon does he want to see me? I’m free right this minute, but I don’t want to push my luck. I’ve already crossed enough boundaries.
He kisses me again. I don’t want him to stop, but I pull away first. I grin at his handsome face. I want to take it all in. I know that even though we just exchanged numbers there’s still a chance he may never call.
Zoe has told me many stories about guys who disappear after they get laid. If it can happen to her, it can certainly happen to me. I don’t want to get my hopes up.
I smile at him. “I really, really had fun.”
“Me too, Cathy.”
“I guess I should go now.”
“You know where to find me.”
I nod. What does he mean? Is this an open invitation for me to just drop by his place unannounced? Because I’m tempted to do just that. But I don’t want him to think I’m a stalker. I’m not a stalker. Am I?
I walk towards my front door. I practically can feel his eyes on my ass. Maybe he likes it. That’s unexpected. And besides, how could he not stare at it in this skirt? There are like…two asses in here.
I unlock my front door and turn around. There he is. Yes, he’s checking me out. I blush, as I wave goodbye to him. This crush is more intense than the one I had on Jared Leto when My So-Called Life was on TV.
By the way, Jared has nothing on Angelo. Hell, Angelo could even give Ryan Gosling a run for his money. Those hazel eyes alone are enough to have me hooked.
As I close the door behind me, I realize that I’ve barely even thought about my disease. And I don’t have the slightest hint of a headache. Angelo was like medicine to me.
I call Zoe right away. She answers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I can hear it in your voice. You had amazing sex last night, didn’t you?”
I laugh.
“When you told me you were leaving with that hottie, I couldn’t believe it.”
“I couldn’t believe it either! A guy like that with me!”
“That’s not what I meant, Cathy. I’ve never known you to do something like that…go home with a guy you met at the bar. That’s so not the Cathy I know.”
“Yeah, Angelo was worth bending the rules for…along with a few other rules, for that matter.”
“Oh shit. Give me all the details.”
“Kiss and tell? I think I’ll pass.”
“Come on.”
“I’ll sum it up with one word. Mind-blowing.”
“Technically that’s two words.”
“Hyphenated. Does that count?”
“Fuck punctuation. Tell me about t
hat cock. Did he know what to do with it?”
I laugh.
“I take that as a yes. I’m glad your drought has finally come to an end. You have arrived at your oasis.”
“That’s exactly what it feels like.”
“So, are you going to see him again?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Well, I’m new to this whole scene. We exchanged numbers, but it’s not like he officially asked me out on a date.”
“So what. Ask him out.”
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Because?”
“Because a lot of reasons. I gotta go change out of these clothes. Catch you later, alright?”
I hang up the phone and scan to Angelo’s name. Maybe she’s right. Why not take the initiative? What the hell am I waiting for? To slip into a fucking coma?
But then again, I can’t help but think of the unspoken rule about waiting 48 hours to contact a guy. It hasn’t even be 48 minutes. What the hell will he think? I pace the floor, unsure what to do. This could go either way. Fuck it!
I decide to send a text. It’s a little less bold than a phone call. And even though I don’t like emojis, I think it’s the perfect tool for my passive aggressive mood. I send a wink.
I stare at the phone for a few minutes. Nothing. My heart sinks. That man just fucked me in positions I didn’t even know my body could contort into and now he can’t even be bothered to respond to my stupid emoji! Even an Angelo liked … would suffice.
This might not even be his real number. There’s always that possibility, too. I’m done agonizing over it all. No, I’m not, but I desperately need a shower.
I head to the bathroom feeling dejected. I look at my reflection, and there’s the culprit. Racoon eyes from all the mascara. My hair is a fucking mess. It’s a miracle he could even get it up. No way I’m ever hearing from that guy again.
I strip out of my slutty clothes and step into the shower. I wash between my legs with plenty of soap. I still can’t believe I let him cum inside me. The truth is I want him to do it again, but that’s not going to happen.
I step out of the tub and put on my comfy robe. I feel better. My face and body are scrubbed free of Angelo’s scent. It will be easier to forget him now. Probably not, but I’m determined to try.
I head to the kitchen. I could really use some coffee, spiked with scotch. I turn on the coffee maker. And then, my phone chimes with a new message. My heart skips a beat. Angelo! I race across the room.
Nope. Just a reminder that it’s time for an oil change. I want to cry. I’m not cut out for any more one night stands. I’ve grown emotionally attached to a perfect stranger, and it sucks.
A new text. From him. WOOHOO!
Hey sexy.
I’m sexy? He probably meant to send this to another woman. But I’ll bite.
Hey yourself.
You got any plans this weekend?
Not really. How about you?
I’m heading to the lake on Sunday. Want to come with?
I pause for a minute. Is this a date? My heart flutters. I type the text quickly, so he doesn’t change his mind.
Yell.
?
I mean yes. Autocorrect.
LOL. I’ll pick you up around 5 if that works.
Okay. Everything is different now. I’m freely using emojis and about to go on a date with a man who’s too fine to be true.
Ah yes! This is the shizzle! Now I’ve got the rest of Saturday to enjoy AND something to look forward to tomorrow. Sit here and be miserable? Fuck no! I’m going to order ALL the pizza and some hot wings and watch reruns on Netflix!
***
When Sunday rolls around, I’m anxious but prepared. I wear a pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt. I think I look trendy. At least I hope I do. I don’t bother with much makeup, and I wear my hair down. I guess I want him to see the real me—or the best version of it.
A few minutes after five, I hear the roar of his motorcycle engine. I rush outside like my house is on fire. He looks so fucking sexy on his bike.
He kisses me. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, handsome.”
We kiss longer this time.
“Come on. You ready?”
I nod. He helps me with my helmet. I slide in the seat behind him and wrap my arms around his muscular body. I hold on even tighter than last time.
It’s an unseasonably warm day. I’m guessing it’s eighty degrees. It feels even warmer in the sun. I’m still a little scared about being on a motorcycle, but I’m starting to get used to it.
We turn down a country dirt road and ride for a few miles. It’s nothing but giant trees and the sounds of nature. He parks his motorcycle near a lake. The water is very clear. I take off my helmet and take in my surroundings.
“This is breathtaking.”
“Yeah, I love it up here. You hungry?”
“I’m never not hungry.”
“I packed a little picnic. Nothing fancy, but I think I got us covered.”
He opens a compartment in his motorcycle and pulls out a big paper bag, a bottle of wine and a blanket. I follow him to a willow tree, looking out at the lake. I help him spread out the blanket.
“I hope you like Italian sandwiches.”
“I love Italian anything.”
He smiles. “You know I’m Sicilian, right?”
“Now I do.”
He hands me a sandwich. “It’s prosciutto with cheese and tomato.”
I take a bite.
“Mmmm! This is fucking amazing!” Am I swearing too much?
He laughs. “Glad you like it.”
He pours some wine into a plastic cup. Then, he stares at my face. But it’s not a romantic look. Wait. What’s happening here?
“You got something on the side of your mouth.”
He wipes away a crumb from my lips. His touch makes me feel so alive.
“Thanks.”
“You got it, babe.”
He called me babe! He fills another plastic cup with wine.
“Let’s toast.”
“Okay. What to?”
“To doing whatever feels right.”
“Hear, hear.”
I touch my cup to his and drink up.
“This is good wine. What is this?”
“Chianti.”
“Nice. So tell me about yourself.”
“Ask away.”
“Where’d you go to college?”
“I didn’t. After high school, I apprenticed with my old man in the construction business and I’ve been doing that ever since.”
“Is that what you always wanted to do?”
“It’s complicated, but family is very important where I come from.” He hesitates a moment. “I’ll put it this way … the whole putting on a suit and working a desk job, I always knew that wasn’t for me. So what about you?”
“Wait! What about the bikes? I could swear I thought you told me you fixed bikes for a living.”
Angelo laughs. “You must’ve imagined it.” He taps me on the nose, it’s kinda cute. “I just like bikes. Not much more to it than that. Your turn.”
“Actually, I do put on a suit and work a desk job.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, it’s fine. It would take much more than that to offend me.”
“So, what do you do exactly?”
“Quality control management for a cabinet manufacturer.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It’s really not, but I’ve been doing this so long I couldn’t picture myself doing anything else.”
“Is that what you always wanted to be?”
“No.”
“So, what was it? Did you want to be a ballerina?”
I smile and shake my head.
“Come on.”
“You would laugh.”
“Just tell me.”
“A professional ice-skater. There I
said it. Now promise never to tell another living soul.”
“I could see that. You’re very graceful.”
“Not at all.”
“Sure, you are.”
He brushes my hair out of my face and kisses me. Being here with him is like a dream. This is without question the best date of my life.
After we gobble up the sandwiches—which are absolutely divine by the way—and half the bottle of wine, we start making out hot and heavy. Angelo is on top of me. I can feel his hard dick pressing against my crotch. He leans in and whispers in my ear.
“I want you to take everything off.”
I hesitate. Getting naked in public is a big step for me even if there’s no one else around. I might be a whole lot of things, but an exhibitionist is not one of them.
“I don’t know …”
“Come on!”
He stands up and starts to undress. I could stare at his perfect body all day. He looks like a Roman god in the sunlight. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around for miles. I sigh.
“Okay.”
I strip down to my undies.
“No. Everything.”
“Everything?”
He nods.
“Here goes.”
I toss off my bra and panties. Instinctively, I cover up my tits and pussy. He smiles and pulls my hands away.
“I’ve seen all of you, remember?”
He leads me by the hand.
“Where are we going?”
I shake my head as we near the lake.
“I’m not getting in there. No way!”
“Is that right?”
“I’ve heard that snakes can crawl up your ass crack. Not chancing it.”
“You don’t have to worry about snakes, well, except for one.”
He places my hand on his stiff cock.
“But this one doesn’t bite.”
I smile.
“Come on, Cathy … I got you.”
And just like that, I follow him into the water. It’s a little cool, but it feels just fine. I can’t believe I’m skinny dipping. Me! Cathy Andrews! He nears me. The desire in his hazel eyes is unmistakable.
“You know something?”
Dieting Makes Cathy Crazy Page 9