"It's me!"
"Just a sec!"
I press the button and hear the buzzer three floors below unlocking the building door. There's no elevator so it'll be a minute before Emma climbs her way up here. I plop back down on the futon and wait. Try to be cool, but there's a little flutter inside anticipating her arrival. It's faster than I expected when I hear the knock at my apartment door. Not the typical
knock, knock, knock
like most people, but instead a crisp, double
knock, knock
! Loud enough I wonder if it hurt.
Emma has just a hint of aggression about her. Like the every day things people do, she does a little harder. It can be intimidating, but I kind of like it.
I get up and saunter to the door, despite my internal excitement. Down the short hallway, twist the deadbolt, and open the door. Emma stands there, bag slung over her shoulder. She's a little sweaty from the three floor climb and the warm, borderline hot weather outside. There's a slight tang in her smell from the exercise, but doesn't mask her sweet, appealing earthy scent.
"Hey, babe," she says, pushing up on her toes to give me a sloppy wet kiss. Just enough tongue to make me want to start tossing clothes. I restrain myself, closing the door behind her, and gently lock the deadbolt. There's something about aggressively locking the door that seems a little menacing, and that is exactly the opposite vibe I want to set. Emma's oblivious to my annoying self-awareness, gliding into the living room. I watch as she gives just enough sway to her lovely round ass that indicates she knows perfectly well what it does to me. I follow.
Emma's wearing jeans. Flat shoes. A light, no-nonsense blouse the has enough buttons loose that when she turns this way or that, I can see her bra snugging against her breasts. She keeps her dirty blonde wavy hair on the short side. Her ears glisten with the many piercings running from top to lobe.
"You hungry?"
"No, but I'll get there," she says, throwing her bag on the futon. "I'm gonna take a shower. I'm disgusting."
This is ridiculous, of course, but I just say, "sure," and nod towards the bathroom.
She kisses me again and gives me a wink as she turns, heading towards the bathroom. "You're not coming," she says, as she starts removing clothes on her way. She's down to her underwear when she opens a bureau drawer and pulls out one of my t-shirts. She goes in, closing the door behind her, but not entirely. It's still open a crack. Whether to let steam out, or as an invitation is unclear.
She's in there for about ten minutes when I hear the water stop. I'm on the futon, scrolling through my phone. I moved her bag to the little table off from the kitchen area, knowing she'll probably think she put it there herself. Emma's not super into detail, which can be annoying, but that's only because I'm OCD.
Emma comes out of the bathroom wearing my t-shirt, frilly panties, and that's it. No bra, which I wholeheartedly support. Her nipples make two small points tenting the fabric as her breasts push out sideways against the shirt, stretching it wonderfully.
Her breasts are far from big--medium sized, at most. I'll admit, I'm a breast man. But I like the whole package, and Emma's are perfectly proportioned to her 5 foot, 4 inch frame. (She told me these numbers at one point.) She comes over and falls heavily on the futon next to me. She turns, her face only a few inches from mine and says, "Hey."
"Hey yourself."
Emma's cute. Not a ravishing beauty, but I like that. I always felt women of spectacular beauty kind of cancels out their sexiness. Or it could be that I know to stay in my lane. Emma has charming, down turned green eyes. A small nose. Full mouth with a devilish tongue. There's just a hint of acne scar on her face, but it's barely noticeable. I think it gives her character. The rest of her pale skin is smooth and soft, with just the right amount of freckles.
It's not like I'm any great thirst-trap. I exercise regularly to keep fit but I'm hardly toned. I know my assets. Relatively good-looking. Women have complemented me on my hands. I have curly hair that I keep short, but long enough so Emma can run her fingers through it. I have two main attributes: My eyes. They're hazel in color. When I wear my contacts I notice some women getting drawn into them when I look back at them directly. The other is, well, my cock.
I don't have a huge amount of sexual experience, but I've slept with enough women to know that mine is larger than average. Not so big to be scary, but large enough that when women see me fully erect there's usually a short intake of breath along with an
oh my god
. Should we get far enough, this is usually followed by an astonished
shit!
upon entry.
Emma lays her hand on top of mine gives it a few gentle rubs. She has small-ish hands, not too delicate. She keeps her nails short--another plus for me--currently without nail polish. Her hair is still wet from the shower, and I can smell the shampoo.
"I missed you."
She likes that and gives me another kiss. Full on, but no tongue. "I missed you too," she says.
It's a little awkward sitting side by side, so she turns and swings her legs over mine. I take one of her feet and give it a gentle massage. Her feet are also on the small side, and adorable. Unlike her fingernails, her toenails have dark red nail polish. Emma leans back a little, enjoying the massage. Eyes closed with a contented smile.
Suddenly, she opens one eye, keeping the other squinted closed, Popeye-style.
"Um...do you have any edibles?"
"I think so. Let me check."
I go into the kitchen and root around the cabinets. Behind some flour and cornmeal is a small bag. It has "bliss" written on the front with smaller lettering below saying "cannabis-infused gummies." I pull out two and head back over to the futon.
"Here." I drop one in her cupped hand. We tap them together, say "cheers" and pop them into each other's mouth. We chew in silence.
After a moment Emma says, "I was thinking about you today."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Anything specific?"
"Uh-huh."
"Something you'd like to share?"
"Sure."
"I'm waiting."
"I was thinking about your cock."