How do you start when you do not really have a beginning? I know it sounds like I am talking back on myself, but that was how it is for me. I do not remember any single event, no life-altering boom or cosmic show-down, but here I am with the love of my life, Cera.
That's her over there on the couch. Yeah, I know, right? She's not your typical Hottie. On the short side with dark mahogany hair that reaches just above her tight rear, Cera was all curves and soft lines without being even slightly overweight. Add in her husky hazel eyes, full mouth, and pert round breasts (yes, they are 100% real), she was Venus incarnate.
And then we reach my problem. I am no flab-flip kind of guy. Hell, Cera even calls me her Lanky Wolf for all the bulge I have on me. Not that I am skinny. No, it's more I'm lean and fit than anything else (something I take pride in). So you would think that we would be going at it like a pair of bunnies on Easter with Jesus' Blessing, right?
Wrong.
Call her cock-tease, but the girl won't let me see her naked. Hell, the most I can get out of her without pushing rape is like she is now: a long t-shirt that flashes a whole lot of smooth, pale, and perfectly shaped thigh. Sure, she lets me feel her up all the way, take her panties off and everything; but no sex (unless it's VERY rare oral sex, and she never takes more than her bottoms off) and no nakedness. I can be naked (and she has let me know that much), but not her. I mean, what is a guy supposed to do? Get her drunk? Yeah, well, tried that. You want to know what happened? I ended up getting cuffed to the bed all night. Did she take her clothes off? Nope. Drug her? Only bastards and sickos do that. Cuff her? Only if you like raping a girl.
No, my hands were tied. You want to know the worst thing? I think she was doing it on purpose! Yeah, wrap you hand around that one. Sometimes...sometimes I can catch this wicked gleam in her eye, like an evil twinkle you would find on the bad guy in am awful movie. One second it is there and the next second it is gone.
Let me take a moment to sigh heavily here. *SIGH*.
Tonight, like so many night before, I could not my mind from wondering if we were ever going to get it on. Imagination at work, I thought about what she would look like without any clothes on. Would her breasts be as perfect and full as they are under her shirt? Would that triangle of fur below be the same soft silky brown as her hair? Would she be all cream and peaches and soaking wet for me? I knew she wasn't a virgin. Hell, with as many toys as she had, I would not be surprised if she had been bi in the past. But she was mine now, and that was all that mattered (bad thought, very bad thought).
I winced. It was a good thing I was standing behind the kitchen island waiting for the popcorn to finish. My jeans were feeling way too snug to do the boys any good.
Cera jumped up from the couch. I could barely hear the string of obscenities flowing from her mouth as the commercials were playing. Something like fucking corporate ass-junk losers was floating around.
I smiled. My girl was definitely no weak whiner like some of the girls I used to date. "Steve, can't you skip this part?" "Steve, where is the milk?" "Steve, bring this, get me that, do this..." Blah, blah, blah. No, Cera was get-the-hell-out-of-my-way-if-you're-going-to-bitch-about-it kind of girl (not too many you don't have to actually look after, right?).
By the time the microwave beeped, Cera had the menu playing its dramatic music. Tonight, it was the Boondock Saints, her favorite. Honestly, she could quote the whole damn thing.
"Hurry up," Cera yelled, back on the couch. I hot-potatoed the popcorn into the bowl (which I made sure it was a very big bowl), and, carrying it low, went over to eased onto the couch next to her. Cera jumped up, the bowl doing a jig on top of my lap, and pushed play.
I tried to settle in to watch the movie. Connor and Murph were getting ready to blow some mafia bastards to Hell. Cera shifted next to me, leaning up against my arm. Okay, she usually does this. I mean, the couch was sagging a bit towards the center. I could feel the heat radiating off of her like a furnace, a hot spot on my arm. If that was not bad enough, the bowl jiggled on my lap every time she went to get popcorn. Not a lot, but enough to keep me...er...hyper down there.
Cera was mumbling the lines to herself. I do not know if she noticed or not; but as the popcorn level went down, the rougher her "digging" was. The bowl would tip wildly back and forth, her hand pressing it down and into my legs and cock. My hands were curled into fists, arms locked to my sides. If I let go, even a little bit, I was going to jump her, consequences be damned.
When the popcorn was all gone (which thankfully was not too slow), Cera shifted so she was leaning mostly sideways against me, her arm dangling over my thigh. Bad. That was all that was going through my mind. Bad, bad, bad, bad! I groaned, realizing the movie was only half-over. Cera chuckled next to me, rubbing her cheek on my arm.
"It's almost over," she said softly. Oh, how she did not know the real meaning of the statement! Could I sit here for another minute, my pants shrinking way too fast, leaving comfort as only a memory? God, I needed a shower...a really cold shower, maybe even take trip to the North Pole to get it. I was not watching the movie, sitting here with my girl all snuggled up close. I was fighting for my manhood!