Adventures with Charlotte
Part 2
I was the first one up the next morning, and helped myself to coffee and a Pop-Tart. I'm not much of a morning person, so I was sitting at the table and blearily staring at my phone when Charlotte and her boy finally appeared.
He was fully dressed in the same clothes he showed up in the night before. She was wrapped in her bathrobe, and sporting an impressive knot of just-been-fucked hair.
"Morning," I said, finding a sudden burst of perkiness. "Coffee?"
The guy seemed to have forgotten about me, and was startled by my presence in my own apartment. Charlotte, however, smiled brightly and went into the kitchen to get a mug for herself.
"Uh...no thanks, bro," the guy said, still dazed. For some reason, I was highly amused by how uncomfortable he was. "I actually gotta get going."
"Okay," I said. "Nice meeting you."
"Uh...sure." Charlotte met him by the door, there was a brief exchange I couldn't hear, and he was gone. She came back and joined me at the table, staring out the window and lazily sipping her coffee.
"So," I said, "he seems nice."
"He is, I guess," she said, halfheartedly.
"Will you be seeing him again soon?"
"Actually, I'm not going to at all."
"Oh?" I said, tilting my head quizzically to one side. "What's the matter?"
"He just...," she began, "it's not going to work out."
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Yeah," she said. "So am I."
She didn't seem terribly disappointed. Then again, as far as I was aware, she hadn't been with this guy for long. For all I knew, last night was as much as she had been with him at all. She had never mentioned him before, so it couldn't have been that important to her. My best guess was that, despite her enthusiasm, the previous night's activities had not been as satisfying as she would have hoped. I almost felt bad for the guy.
Almost.
*****
Over the course of the next several months, Charlotte had two more guys over at the apartment. The first one, Michael, lasted longer than the previous guy and the next. She actually talked about him a little before she brought him around, and there was a better introduction when she did. He was a lot more open and friendly than Zach. He actually accepted when I offered him a beer, and the three of us hung out together a couple of times. He wasn't much of a sports guy, but we bonded over mutual taste in music and movies.
Charlotte dumped him shortly after New Year's, though. He actually seemed pretty upset about it, but not for being dumped. It was more like he had wanted to end it, and she beat him to it. Whatever their issue had been, he was the one who was angry, and I guess she took offense to that. She never explained, and I didn't press, but she was over it relatively quickly.
About two months later, she brought James around. He was also a fairly cool guy, and was cool hanging out with me, too. He was good to watch a basketball game with, at least. A little more political than I would usually like, but nothing I couldn't handle. Charlotte decided she was tired of him after a couple of weeks. He didn't seem overly bothered by it, either, but he wasn't angry or anything.
The good news for me was that, while they were together, I was treated to several more nights of very vocal sex. Both Michael and James stayed over many times, and I always made it a point to stay up a little bit later at night when they did. One thing that became immediately apparent was that Charlotte had been completely faking it with Zach. She was no less vocal with Michael and James, but she was definitely more...sincere. They both seemed to have a better idea of what they were doing, which confirmed my theory about why Charlotte was done with Zach so quickly. Even so, it seemed the other two weren't entirely up to snuff, either. They had their chance, and that was that.
The thing that I continued to find most interesting, and hilarious, was how different Charlotte was in and out of the bedroom. Whatever wild side she unleashed in the sack, she kept perfectly in check the rest of the time. She was a fully fledged kindergarten teacher now, and was always so sweet with her kids. She listened to her jazz, read her books, and kept her sense of humor light. If I hadn't heard it with my own ears, I never would have believed it about her other side.
*****
Somewhere in the midst of all that, I met Danielle. The coffee shop I usually stopped at on my way to work closed down, so I ended up switching to another one. It was slightly out of my way, but was completely worth it. I had definitely traded up. The coffee was better, the selection of baked goods was wider, and the service was spectacular.
Danielle was a regular, and we met when I ended up in line behind her on my third time there. She had just received her order, turned around to leave...and walked headlong into me.
"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, as we both jumped back from the scalding hot puddle that had just spread across my shoes. "I am so sorry!"
"It's okay," I said, checking quickly to make sure none of it had spilled anywhere else on me. No third degree burns, so I was fine. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," she said, but she didn't sound it. I couldn't tell if she was more upset that she had almost injured a total stranger, embarrassed that she had had an accident, or annoyed that she had spilled her coffee. I offered to buy her a new one.
"You really don't have to do that," she said.
"I insist," I told her, and I added hers to my own order. She was still a little grumpy, but smiled all the same. She was pretty, too. She had jet black hair down to her shoulders, which hung in a way that it perfectly framed her face. Startlingly blue eyes, which stood out against her dark hair. She always showed her teeth when she smiled, setting dimples in her slightly pale cheeks. When I looked a little closer, I noticed very light freckles under her eyes. I was attracted to her right away.
We got to talking a little bit, and I found out that her grumpiness was more about her job. She worked in the human resources office at one of the buildings near mine, and there were major clerical issues that had been heaped in her lap. She was not looking forward to facing them.
We saw each other again almost every morning for the next week or so, taking a little time to talk before going off to our respective jobs. After about a week and a half, I made the move and officially asked her out.
We went on a couple of dates, sometimes to dinner and sometimes to the movies. We almost always ended up back at the coffee shop, though. They were just as good for dessert as they were for breakfast. Danielle was fun to talk to, and a good distraction after a bad day at work. She was a woman of strong opinions, not afraid to speak her mind, which I liked. But she was also good at listening, and was very interested to hear about my life as a freelance writer.
She didn't mind at all that I had a female roommate, though she did inquire as to whether or not Charlotte and I had ever dated. I assured her we had not, and relayed the story of her relationship with Bill. Danielle was duly shocked and fully supported me taking her in afterwards. I was glad of that, because it was my experience that not a lot of women were okay with their boyfriend living with another woman.
The first time we had sex, we went back to her place. She lived alone in a studio apartment on the other side of town from me. It was small, but nice, and she was an excellent decorator, as it turned out. It took us forever to get into her apartment, as we kept stopping in the hallway and on the stairs to make out. By the time we finally got inside, she was already undoing my belt. She was damn good in bed, too, but something was off. I guess I had just gotten used to hearing Charlotte's escapades, but Danielle was considerably less vocal. I still had a good time with her, but I found myself wishing she would make more ruckus.
We had been together for about a month when she finally came over to my place for the first time. It was shortly after Charlotte had dumped James, and she was curled up on the couch reading a book when Danielle and I arrived.
"It's nice to finally meet you," Danielle said, as Charlotte got up to greet her. They shook hands, and Charlotte ran off to the kitchen for a bottle of wine. The three of us sat up in the living room for a while, chatting and laughing. We polished off two bottles before Charlotte finally decided to call it a night.
"I probably shouldn't have had so much," she said, teetering a little as she tried to stand. "I do have to work in the morning."
"Are you gonna be okay?" I asked. I had seen her drunk before, but usually on a weekend when she could sleep it off.
"I'll be fine," she said, smiling wider than normal and tossing us an unstable thumbs up. Danielle walked her to her room. I heard some shuffling about, a little giggling, and then a soft thud as Charlotte fell into bed. Danielle came back out, and shut the door behind her.
"We should probably be getting to bed, too," she said, when she came back. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and looked up at me with half-closed eyes and a wry smirk.
"I was just thinking the same thing," I said, and pulled her in to kiss her. Her hands moved up to my face, and I pulled her closer. We fell into that kiss, letting the wine go our heads a bit, as we started to fumble with each other's clothes.
We moved quickly to my room, and Danielle pushed me up against the door as it closed behind us. She kissed me harder than she ever had, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I was still immersed in that kiss as she started to undo my belt. She paused and put her hand against my crotch, feeling my cock harden against her palm.
"That's what I wanted," she purred as she broke the kiss. She locked eyes with me, smirking slightly in a way I had never seen in her before. There was something different in that look. Something hungry. Without another word, she slowly sank to her knees, her hands caressing down my chest as she did so. "And what do
you
want?"
She never took her eyes away from mine. I stared down at her, too shocked for the moment to answer properly. My breath caught in my throat. Was I actually nervous?
She undid my belt, unzipped my jeans, and reached in to grab hold of my cock. It twitched at her touch, and she smiled even wider.
"What should I do with this?" she asked, ever so slowly pulling it out. She began to stroke it slowly, inching her face closer and closer. "Well?"
She paused, looking up at me expectantly. My cock twitched again, and she stopped stroking me, her thumb pressed against the sweet spot at the tip.
