I looked over at Emily in the seat to my left, only to be forced to look at the road again. In the two seconds I looked at my girlfriend I knew something was wrong. She leaned away from me, scooting the furthest she could, and even though it wasn't much with her wide hips taking up most of the seat, I got the message. Her head was resting against the window, her bright hazel eyes fixed on observing outside. There was nothing to see, nothing new that is. We had spent our twenty-one years of life in this small town, she knew it walking blindly; but it seemed more interesting to her than talking to, or even looking at, me. She had barely said five words to me when I picked her up from the campus library, answering all my questions with limited words. She didn't elaborate when I asked about the project she was working to for her class. I found it strange.
It was just last week she was asking me to pay more attention to what she was doing; keep track of her whereabouts and interests. She had claimed I always brought up football(soccer) or the guys and never asked her anything about her day. I knew I did ask since she always spoke of a new project for class or a new series she was watching on Netflix. Emily then told me that she was the one who always brought it up and then I would quickly interrupt her and talk about football again. Her insistent nagging had stopped, so I assumed something had improved, but now I was thinking maybe it didn't.
Today was Wednesday. When we first started dating three years ago, I would always take her out for dinner on Wednesdays. It started off as the occasional fancy dinner or date night but then things got rough when we both started college and didn't have time for part-time jobs. With me having a full ride due to football, and her through science, we both had to keep up our grades, and me my football, to keep our scholarships. Fancy dates were then morphed into cooking at home or picking up some takeout and spending nights on the couch watching a movie, or maybe even the bedroom. The past few weeks I've been caught up with football, so we didn't have time for dates, out nor home. That's how drained I was from training.
I looked over at her again. She hasn't moved much. She was still looking out the window, but now her shapely legs were now crossed, exposing more of her soft skin in the flared dress she wore. I didn't get to see much as I had to keep my eyes on the road. I couldn't remember the last time she had those legs wrapped around my hips while I fucked her, or even around my head as I ate her bald pussy. I felt my dick swell in my pants. I could do with either one right now. I looked over at her to stare at her chest. Though not low cut, the swoop design gave out just enough cleavage that I could imagine sliding my dick through her large tits. I wonder how long it would take to convince her to spend the night at my place.
"You need to buy groceries," she said. "Your pantry is empty."
I smiled at her. Emily still stayed with her folks, but she came over a few times a week. I knew she would manage our future home well. After indicating, I swerved into the exiting lane and made the turn to our usual grocery store. She barely waited for me to cut the engine before stepping out.
I met her at the door already with a grocery cart. I just lingered behind pushing the cart as I watched her compare items before choosing which one to buy. I wasn't complaining as she bent over or reached up high and her skirt hitched up a little showing her thick tanned bare legs. Her ass bounced as she walked ahead, and I could see the stares of males, but Emily played no mind. She didn't know how beautiful she looked in that dress.
I did a once over. I did realise she wore wedges with it. Did she dress up to go study with her classmates? Emily wasn't the type to.
I don't think we made plans to go out tonight. I tried to think of if we made date plans, but I knew I wouldn't. I was exhausted from practice. I started thinking the last time we went on a date. Emily wore a body-hugging red number and what was underneath was even better, a lacy red thong and matching bra and garter belt. We had fucked so much that night it was amazing. I tried to think of another date, but I drew up blank. We did go to her cousin's wedding last month. I paused reminding myself that I had left for practice mid-way. Well it's only been a few weeks since we went out, it wasn't anything too bad. Maybe she was planning something at home tonight. I could only imagine what she had underneath that dress, just waiting for me to see.
I watched she paid for the groceries and collected the bags in the basket of the cart. I wheeled it outside and she put them in the boot. Emily was one who always made people's jobs easier. She made the trek back the entrance to put the cart away. I waited for her and allowed the engine to warm up. I found myself waiting a good few minutes before I realized she hadn't returned. I slowly moved out of the spot to make it quicker so we could leave. I thought she would have been on her way, but I found her talking to one of the male employees, most likely the unfortunate fellow who had to pick up the carts from the lot. He didn't seem so unfortunate as my curvaceous girlfriend was smiling at him. I wasn't sure when was the last time she smiled at me like that.
I honked the horn and she looked up at the car. I rolled down my window giving the guy a stern glare. I saw she waved him off and walked across towards me. As soon as she got in, I leaned in to kiss her, to prove my point to the employee. She pulled away quickly though and almost snapped at me, but I could see she held her tongue. She again went to looking out the window, most likely to apologize to the guy, but I quickly rolled it up, all the while smirking at the employee, but I couldn't help but feel he was the lucky guy.
"What was that about?" I asked. "Why'd you take so long talking to that guy."
"He was just saying thank you for bringing the cart back," she told me.
"For five minutes," I snapped looking at her.
She rolled her eyes.
"It was hardly two," she replied calmly.
"Two too fucking many," I muttered.
"You don't hear me complaining when it's the other way round," she groaned.
"What you mean by that?" I questioned defensively.
"You don't seem to care when your football groupies arrive," she snapped. "I'm the one who is left waiting for hours at parties or at the field."
I didn't have an answer to that. I knew it was true, but I quickly denied it.
