Page 15 of All My Love
I walk back into my room and open the top drawer on my dresser. I didn’t want to live out of a suitcase this week so I went ahead and stocked the drawers with my things. I pull out a white lacy bra and panty set I bought from the Macy’s clearance rack before I arrived here. Sliding out of my black jeans and pulling my black sweater over my head, I toss the chunky knit onto the bed. I strip out of my basic underwear and t-shirt bra and trade them in for the white laceinstead.
I’m going to take myself out to dinner tonight, and I’ve picked a really cute, inexpensive Ramen place. The lingerie is just for me - no one is going to see it. It’s what I’d like Ben to see me in, though. I check myself in the mirror, my face flushed with a pink hue. I’d like to get cozy on his couch in just this, have my feet in his lap and a book in his hands and just feel close to him. It’s a delicious fantasy, and I wrap my arms around myself when I imagine him coming home from work, pulling his tie off, and grabbing me by thewaist.
He’d lift me up like you see on tv. I always made fun of when the Bachelor does that to the contestants. I always sayyeah right, try doing that to a slightly bigger girl and see what happens. Sometimes I’m saying it to my friends Kit and Madelyn, sometimes I’m saying it to the KitKat I picked up from the bodega when I come home from my late class on Monday nights. I always have a KitKat for dinner that night because I don’t have any classes the next day. The caffeine in the chocolate keeps me awake, but its okay because I don’t have class the next day and I like to stay up late preparing my posts for the blog for the next couple of days on Mondaynights.
But now, having Ben pick me up and wrap my legs around him seems like a fantasy I’d really want to indulge in. I don’t even think he’d hurthimself.
A college professor with the physique of an athlete. Brains and brawn, and it’s all topped off with these deep, dark blue eyes that make me crazy. And a smell that’s a hair off of the body wash in his shower. Peel away the body wash from his scent and you’re left with something else. Books? Book have a distinct scent. But that’s notit…
Some nights, he would come home from work and just sit down on the couch and read a book while I cooked. But other nights, he would stick his finger in his tie, pull it aside, and stalk toward me like the hungry beast I know he has trapped inside him and is just dying to get out. I’d like to think I could unlock that side of him. The sexy, lust-crazed beast hiding under the preppy sweater and the sweet, slightly possessive demeanor. I know there’s something else in there. I can feelit.
In my lingerie I tip-toe into the living room and perch on the window sill. The window is open and there’s a screen on it, but still, I feel like I’m right outside with nature next to me. Everything feels open and free, and I brush my fingers against my throat imagining it’s his fingers. I wiggle in my seat. I’m so wet that I’m afraid tolook.
So I won’t look. I won’t slide my hand down to dip inside. I’ll fight thedesire.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t let my mind take awalk.
I move over to the couch and slide down against it, the vintage brown leather rough against my soft skin. I picture him coming in, saying nothing, throwing down his newspaper and umbrella. For some reason, in my fantasy it’s raining. His wavy dark hair is wet and his eyes tell me to stay there, so I pin myself against the cough and purr into the the leather seat as he comes up to me, positions himself between my legs, and tugs on my hips so I’mhorizontal.
He kisses below my ear first and I lace my fingers through his wet hair. Then he moves lower and I watch as he glides his hands around my waist and kisses my breasts through my bra. Then one of his hands curls over the top of one of the cups and he pulls it down slowly, making sure that my nipple is grazed by the soft lace before he curls his lips aroundit.
Thinking about it sends heat down below and I feel my panties positively flood. I lay back on the couch to let my manic muscles stretch out. I imagine Ben taking his attention away from my nipple and kissing down my stomach, stoping when he gets to the top of mypanties.
He’d be happy that I’m thoroughly waxed, not because convention dictates it. He’d be happy because it’s how I like it, and that makes him like it. He knows I like to watch, and he knows I’m so much more sensitive when I’m fully bare. Too bad I’ve only had my own self to experimentwith.
He’d keep kissing me and then stop to push both of my legs up. He’d drag his finger along my skin where the elastic meets my inner thigh, and I’d ask why he’d stopped. He’d tell me it was because I was too greedy and needed to be shown who was incharge.
You think you can get yourself all wet thinking about me, he’d ask. He’d remind me that my pleasure is his responsibility and therefore not something I should do without him. Every time I get that tickle, every time I need to get that itch scratched, I would call upon him and rub myself against him where I needed to be touched and he would give me when Ineeded.
“You want your kitty played with,” he’d breathe, sliding a finger inside my panties. He’d make sure his finger didn’t touch me, but a deep, dark growl would break inside his chest when he saw how wet Iwas.
“Did you make a mess out of these little white lace panties?” he’d ask. I’d bite my lip and nod andapologize.
“I know that’s your job, but I couldn’t help it,” I’d whimper. “Sometimes my body takes on a mind of itsown.”
Then he’d take me over his knee and smack my ass until it was pink and I was begging him to slide his thick cock intome.
I’m about to get even more lost in my thoughts. I drag a finger along the hollow of my throat and I give myself the green-light to give in, and as I bite my lip and I’m about to slide my fingers down into my panties, I hear the doorunlock.
“Oh shit,” I mutter under my breath, hopping off the couch and racing into my room. I slam the door shut and lean back against it, my heart racing and my pulse pounding in my ears. I let out a big, shaky breath, and I try to get myself together. I go into the closet and throw on the dress I was planning for tonight, check my reflection in the mirror, and snap back toward thedoor.
“Elizabeth?” I hear Ben shout from the living room. I open the door and poke my head out. He looks concerned, his brows pinched in themiddle.
“What’s up?” I ask, coming out of the room and landing in the hallway. I swallow thickly, knowing that my face is still pink and my breathing is still rapid. Ben’s gaze isn’t doing anything to help the situation, either. His gaze glides up me, from the pink nails on my toes to my breasts and then my lips. Then my eyes. He clenches a fist up and turns away from me, pacing into thekitchen.
“You look nice, Elizabeth,” he says. I follow him. Did I do something wrong? He keeps his back to me and puts one hand on the window frame of the little window in the kitchen, the other hand on hiship.
“Thanks.” I take a tentative step toward him, my knees feeling wobbly as I twist my fingers in the black tulle skirt of my dress. “I thought you were at dinner. What’s the matter?” I ask him softly. I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder, just his white crisp dress shirt separating my fingertips from the smooth, perfectly tight muscle beneath. I feel my breath shudder and break inside me when he tenses up and puts his chin over hisshoulder.
“What were you doing in here?” he asks, his words slow andcalculated.
“Nothing,” I reply. I add the word again, more emphatic this time. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he says, turning to face me. Now his eyes are really heating me up, and my knees feel like jelly. “Look, I’m just going to come out and say it. I don’t want you going on this date tonight,Liz.”
So he does assume I have a date. And he doesn’t want me to go on it. What thehell?
“You…you can’t tell me what to do.” He can’t. He doesn’t want me, and yet he doesn’t want me to go on a date? “It’s notfair.”
“You misunderstand me, Elizabeth,” he rasps. He turns around and his big frame blocks the entire window. I feel small, crowded in with him around me, and my heart is still beating like a bass drum. He takes one step toward me, collapsing ourdistance.
Reaching down and putting his hand on the back of my head, he threads his fingers through my hair, making me whimper and ask myself what the hell he’sdoing.
