We need to talk?! Scariest fucking words in the world, especially to someone like me. I try my best to avoid emotional discussions at all costs, turning them into hot sexual interludes whenever possible. And from him? Come on! He was as unlikely to openly discuss feelings as I was, probably more. In fact I had kept him at bay on more than one occasion with only a subtle hint at wanting to have a conversation about, gasp, feelings.
So what the fuck was going on? We had been "carrying on" for quite some time just fine. Best sex ever, no real commitment involved. Did I love him? Duh! But feeling it and showing it were about all I thought I was capable of. Talking about it? That made me want to run for the goddamn hills. I had been through the supposedly happy marriage thing, how well that worked out. Now I just wanted to be happy and I thought we had that down pat.
Sure I refused to move in with him and rarely spent more than a few nights in a row with him before the anxious feeling set in and I had to go. But I always came back happier than before. And I always put out as properly as possible, I lived to satisfy him and myself in the process. It was perfect. Or so I thought.
And now he wanted to talk. Fuck. I knew what was coming and it was so ironic because we had been through so much and had never once had a serious argument only petty, good natured debates that almost always ended with us laughing and then fucking like rabbits. We were the same, him and I and never before had I felt so content with someone who could calm me down and/or work me up depending on the situation. So was that all in jeopardy now because he had decided to overcome his own commitment issues only to run smack into mine? Fuck.
I sighed and looked around the small apartment I had been living in since my divorce. I had my daughter roughly half the time, her father and I somehow able to remain civil throughout out it all, for her sake. I loved living in small space I could keep as neat or as messy as I wanted. She had evolved into a neat teenager from a messy tween and we got along great. She was my world and although adjusting to seeing her half the time was hard, in the end I know I made the right decision. She initially had a hard time adjusting to me dating but eventually she not only adapted but supported me fully, even questioning my lack of commitment at times. She was gone for the week, visiting my parents in Colorado and I had a ton of free time on my hands.
I had quit my job a year ago to start freelance writing and was able to more than support myself and her doing something I absolutely loved. Life was good. Except. Fuck. He was due over any minute and I knew I looked cute but I was worried about what was to come. I wandered into my bedroom glanced at the queen sized bed with the four posts and I got a little horny thinking of all of the escapades that had transpired there. I pushed that aside and walked to the full length mirror in the closet to examine myself thoroughly.
I was wearing a light blue t-shirt that was low cut and tight with a short denim skirt that nicely showed off my legs. I had worked hard to first lose a significant amount of weight and kept working to keep it off. I had on brown sandals with a wedge heel that made me an inch or two taller. My hair was long and mostly straight with little curls at the ends, my bangs had grown out to past my eyebrows and my makeup, the little I wore looked good. Satisfied I walked over and sat on the bed, wringing my hands and trying not to assume the conversion to come. Then I heard the knock.
Slowly and trepidatiously I walked to answer it, excited to see him, as always, but nervous too. I opened the door and looked at him, a smile playing on my lips, hoping to postpone, if not forgo, any conversations. He looked so fucking good, as always, in a tight white t shirt and jeans, also tight in all the right places. I immediately threw my arms around him, hugging tight so I could feel his strong arms wrap around me and his hard chest up against my tits. Already I was getting wet and he had been there less than a minute. Sensing my plan, I think, he pulled away quickly and walked into my living room.
"Hi Jenni." He said, glancing at my breasts and then my legs before coming back to meet my eyes. "How are you baby?" So. The disarming had begun. He knew I melted when he called me baby. It was like that, huh?
"Hi Joshua, I'm okay, how are you?" I asked, bringing my hand to touch his arm, two could play this game. I leaned in to kiss him lightly at first, then harder as he parted his lips to allow our tongues to meet. We made out for several minutes, my hands in his silky black hair, his hands on my ass then around to my breasts, using his thumbs to simulate my nipples, bringing them to life.
He started to slip his hands under my shirt, up to unhook my bra when he stopped and again pulled away. "Jenni...baby...I really need to talk to you," he adorably stammered, obviously aroused, his eyes still roaming my body as he tried to speak. "It's important..."
"Laters babe, I promise!" I argued, pulling him over to the couch and pushing him down onto it. Although he pretended to fight he exaggeratedly fell backwards and I immediately went to my knees before he could stop me. He gave in and sat back, eyeing me with those hungry fucking eyes as I pulled open the buttons on his jeans and eased them off of his legs. I then went for his boxers but decided to leave them on, instead pulling out his cock through the opening in the front. I quickly put my mouth down to him and lightly licked his head, teasing him as I took a little more a bit at a time.
I heard him intake a sharp breath as I reached the base and sucked hard, maintaining suction as I brought my mouth back up to repeat the process several times getting a little faster each time until I was bobbing my head up and down, my tongue running along the shaft as I sucked. I brought my hand up to rub beneath my mouth as I moved, finding a rhythm that I could tell he was enjoying. I looked up at him to see his head leaning back, eyes closed as he tried to make it last as long as possible. I knew he was close however when his fingers started grabbing my hair and he was lifting his hips slightly off the couch to fuck my face. "Goddamn Jenni that feels so fucking good!" He yelled as he grabbed my hair harder and unloaded his cock into my willing mouth. I felt the warm liquid pour into my throat; I quickly swallowed as he spasmed again and again I took it in.
Too late I realized the flaw in my plan. He was still recovering from his orgasm and a smile overtook his face and there was a new gleam in his eyes. He calmly pulled up his jeans and stood up to fasten them. He then sat back down and motioned to me to sit next to him. Shit! He had gotten his and now I was super horny and feared the only way I was getting off was to have the conversation I didn't want to have! Resigned, I took the seat he offered.
"Now that that's out of the way...." he began and I instantly knew he had been on to me. "I think we should talk. About us."
Fuck fuck fuck! Was it the end of the world though? I took a deep breath and tried to think. "Sure, yeah, okay, us...." I managed to get out while really I was considering how much damage jumping off of a two story balcony could really cause. A broken leg or two?
Seeing my recalcitrance, he began "We're terrific together. We're alike, we want the same things, and the sex, well, that's out of this world!" He stopped to gather his thoughts, looked into my eyes and my heart stopped.
"You're right about that!" In agreement I started running my hand up his leg, but he stopped me by putting his hand on mine.