"D-daddy."
He nodded with a smile of satisfaction on his face. Now, instead of the swats, he lovingly rewarded her by caressing the spots he punished. His fingers inadvertently slipped between the valley and grazed her lips as he did so.
Or maybe, it wasn't so inadvertent. After that first gentle brush, he paid closer attention to her vulva, making sure to slide his finger between the folds. Once he found her clit, and felt the piercing there, her cries became wails of pleasure.
Once again, in that low, cool voice, he asked, "And what do you want Daddy to do?"
Her orgasm was right there. She needed his fingers to keep rubbing her clit, just like it was doing. That, mixed with the sensation of him still possessively pulling her head back, had her on the cliff of bliss.
"What do you want Daddy to do?" he repeated, his modulations moving faster.
"I WANT DADDY TO FUCK ME!" She cried out.
Both hands, the one pulling her hair and the one that was playing with her, left her. She dropped her head and breathed a little easier. From behind, she heard a zipper, followed by the jingling of a belt being loosened.
She stood ready, anticipating the moment of penetration. Suddenly and inexplicably, he started licking her face...
***
Monique snapped awake. Alex was gone, but in his place was her other best friend. Mr. Pugsly greeted her good morning, just as he did every other day; with loving kisses.
Never before had his love been so irritating.
"Stop Pugs." She said. She went to swat him away but realized she couldn't. Looking down, it was only then that she saw where her hand was.
It was stuffed down inside of her shorts. Her fingers were soaked with her juices.
What the hell?
Was I playing with myself in my sleep again?
Why do I keep having these sex dreams?
It'd been a few weeks since that night on the bridge. That was the first time she made peace with her feelings involving him. Even after he said he wouldn't date her, she felt closer to him than she ever did before.
Confronting the nature of their relationship was something that was a long time coming. She'd ducked, dodged, and hidden from the reality of what was happening until it was almost too late.
In that moment, even though he ultimately turned her down, she felt a weight being lifted from her. She'd finally owned up to her feelings, threw the middle finger to her fears and doubts, and took control.
For someone like her, the small feat of telling a guy she liked him was a herculean task. Even before Trey's cheating ass ripped her heart apart, she was taught to be coy and stand-offish with guys. You know; play hard to get; make 'em chase you. Being a beautiful, brown-skinned woman with a slim-thick body came with the benefits of not having to look for male attention. It was thrown at her on a daily basis.
Chris Rock put it best. Almost every time a guy was nice to her, no matter how innocuous the conversation, it was just an invitation for dick.
Can I get that for you?
Can I get you some dick?
Do you need any help with that?
Can I help you with some dick?
To her, dick invites were as common as daddy issues were on a porn set. Men flocked to her, spreading their beautiful feathers in hopes of impressing her.
At a glance, she was always the one in control.
But was she really? Yes, she could easily pull a tall, good-looking guy with a decent job.
That
guy, though, would only see what he could
see
. He wouldn't care about her ambitions, her feelings, her secret fears. After all, he couldn't cum inside of those aspects. When he was done wetting his dick with her juices, he would turn into an asshole, just as the rest of them did.
In the course of dating, Monique had come to an unfortunate conclusion. Men just aren't loyal. They aren't trustworthy. If a girl happens to find one who is, it's because he doesn't have many other options.
That theory held up for so long she started to believe it with biblical faith. And then, over a year ago, she caught an Uber that started to change her perspective on men.
Alex was the antithesis of everything she thought she knew about men. Every time she peeled back a Lexxy-layer, she found more layers yet to be discovered.
On the surface, he wasn't overly attractive, didn't have a lot of money, and wasn't very confident and suave. Life had taught him that he wasn't worth a second glance.
Alex was just a skinny, white-boy nerd; average in every way.
Simplifying Lexxy with such a reductive sentence was like minimizing the impact of the sun by saying it was hot and bright. One would have to begin researching dwarf stars, calculating its magnetism, and seeking answers about radiation to even scratch the surface.
There was more there than meets the eye.
Lexxy was honest with everything. That's not to say that he was incapable of lying like any other human. That's just an observation about his core character. Even amidst his insecurities, he exhibited more integrity than most men Monique had encountered. If he did something, it was genuine and real.
He was charming without meaning to be. His humor wasn't him trying to be funny; he just was. When he did a thoughtful gesture, it was because he was thinking about you, not because he wanted anything in return. His sensitivity to people around him made him silently observe what they needed, and then form a plan to give it to them with no strings. He wasn't some world class karate expert, but he'd damn sure challenge you if you threatened someone he cared about.
On top of that, he was loyal; arguably to a fault.
Monique
knew
her feelings for Lexxy were reciprocated. She felt it in the way he looked at her. Thinking back, she could pinpoint when things started to change between them because of how his eyes fell on her. From the first day the two of them began watching Luke Skywalker's journey to becoming a Jedi, she knew how he felt, even if she pretended she didn't.
And yet, he refused to date her now. Even when she offered to share him with
that other chick
, he declined.
That threw her. After all, guys were only as loyal as their options, and here she was offering to play second fiddle. According to her theory, Alex should have jumped at the opportunity.
Yet, he didn't. Instead, he displayed the flaw in her line of thinking by saying he wasn't the type of guy that could date multiple women. It had nothing to do with his feelings, or who he thought was prettier. It was about timing. By the time Monique got around to choosing him, he'd already chosen someone else. His loyalty was duty bound to see it through because it was fair.
It was at that realization that her feelings surpassed mere liking. His looks no longer mattered to her (although he was quite toned now underneath his baggy, drab clothing). All the superficial shit that she once looked for seemed so small and petty now. Watching him bloom over the past year taught her more about men than all the players of her past combined.
Despite being just a skinny, white-boy nerd, he was what she was looking for in a man. He was what her mom found in her dad.
The question was, what was she going to do about it?
***
With the start of the sex dreams, Monique's outlook towards Lexxy changed dramatically. Everything he did or said now held a different meaning to her. She was analyzing him; looking for all the things she missed over the past year and some change.
A part of her automatically expected everything to change. After all, she humbled herself and declared her feelings. There would most likely be some awkwardness as they navigated these new waters.
What she wasn't expecting, however, was for
nothing
to change. At least, nothing on Alex's part. There was no awkwardness; no shy glances or trouble looking her in the eye. He was as comfortable around her as he'd always been.
That in itself seemed strange. It was as if that night on the bridge never happened for him.
Alex showed up to their next session after that night, punctual as always. He greeted her with a friendly head-nod and a "Sup Mo. What's on the agenda for today?"
She wanted to talk about things a little more, but they were on the clock (not that that small factor had ever stopped them before). The two of them went through his routines with the normal ease.
Same jokes. Same playfulness. Same everything.
She called him later that day, hoping to broach the subject. Speaking with him was eerily ordinary, considering the major shift in their dynamic. Every time she tried to steer conversation in the direction of where they stood, the conversation would shift to something else familiar and safe.
It wasn't even like he was dodging the subject. It just didn't exist.
