Chapter 1- Brat
I've always had rebellious streak. In all my relationships, as much as I hate to admit it, I've been a bit of a brat. I'm pretty damn cute though, with a dimpled half grin that melts other girls like ice cream on a sunny day, so I get away with it at first.
Women love a challenge, particularly a barely five-foot tall, freckled, wild haired, perky C-cup, pretty-as-hell even in work clothes, kind of challenge that happens to have an amazing ass.
Seriously, I'm not sure how I fit this booty into my boring mail lady work shorts, but I manage.
It's never been hard for me to land a date, and almost easier to find a girlfriend, so I can afford to be picky. Every woman I've been with has been amazing, though mostly the actual relationships short lived. That said, my last relationship was a long one, for a minute there I thought it was
the
one, picked out rings and everything. But eventually she got fed up with my antics and took off, claimed I didn't take anything seriously.
After that, I vowed to be less of a brat in the future, and though I didn't believe I could live up to that, I thought I'd try. With the woman I wound up with, I wasn't left with much of a choice.
When I met Anna I thought that finally I'd found someone I could get real with, be serious with. She's not the game playing sort, she sees what she wants and she goes for it. An athletic nerd, she is full of contradictions, but she makes perfect sense to me. She's the bookish sort, with those sexy smart girl glasses and black hair she keeps relaxed and in a sort of half assed upside pony tail, she actually sticks pencils in it. Get this, she's a real-life librarian.
Yep, I landed myself a sexy librarian.
She's kind of short and slim for my usual tastes, I generally like thick girls, or tall girls. I like being the tiny one. Not that she's smaller than me, she's nearly 5'5 and pretty athletic.
I stay active with my job, lots of walking and stairs, but I don't hit the gym or anything. I'm soft, all curves, fun sized but fun to cuddle.
She's a rock climber, and I guess her dad's some sort of famous body builder guy, so she started lifting weights when she was 12. That's the limit of what I know about her past, but I don't talk about my past either. My point is, she's ripped and it totally shows once I get her out of her modest work clothes. I guess her practically super human strength makes up for being relatively normal sized.
She was on my mail route, that's how we met. After some hardcore flirting, she invited me to go rock climbing with her. I'm a terrible climber, but it was fun, and I admit the view from below her was pretty rockin'! (See what I did there?)
We'd been dating for several months, and when my lease was up she asked if I'd move in with her. I'm not used to doing things that fast, I'm not really the U-haul type, but I remembered my ex's last words to me, and thought, "All right, let's try serious."
I moved my stuff in, my cat got acclimated, and everything seemed to be going well for the first week. I've got to say, I was on my best behavior.
As we fell into a routine I noticed some dynamics that were unexpected. Now, I wouldn't say either of us are generally more dominant in bed than the other, we meet in the middle, and it's good, clean, fun sex. We weren't that adventurous back then, we tried blind folds and ice cubes, and a few other things, but generally we were pretty vanilla. She let me set the tone, and I was too self-conscious to break the mold.
Anyway, back to these interesting dynamics. First, she got in the habit of telling me to do things instead of asking, and inevitably, instead of communicating about it, my brat tendencies came out. Little things at first, like her telling me to do some small chore, and I would either simply not do it, or come back at her with some snark. Or sometimes it was as simple as her telling me to hand her something, and I'd hold it just out of her reach.
At first, she responded like previous girlfriends had, at least the good-humored ones. She'd make a joke out of it and take it as an invitation to wrestle or rough house and eventually have sex.
For that second week of living together, she put up with it without complaining. But by the end of the week, I could tell she was finding my compulsive baiting annoying. But that's the problem with compulsive behaviors, you can't just stop.
I started expecting a break up speech from her, and my nerves just made me even more bratty, which I'm sure didn't help. To my surprise she didn't dump me, instead she did what any grown-ass adult does. She asked me about it.
"Bri," she said as we tidied up after dinner one night, when I held the dish towel just out of her reach, forcing her to come around the kitchen island to get it. "Why do you keep baiting me like this?"
At first, I pretended I didn't know what she was talking about, but she called me on it.
"Like this, you're doing it again." she said, snatching the towel from me then throwing it on the counter. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! Every time I ask you for anything, or to do anything, you pull this shit."
"You don't ask me to do things." I replied, my filter temporarily AWOL, "You tell me to do things."
She was quiet for a moment, and I was suddenly uncomfortable and wished I'd said anything but the truth. I worried for a moment that she'd be angry, was this going to be our first fight? Would she deny it, or demand that I give explicit examples? Or perhaps she'd point out that if I was going to avoid chores she had every right to tell me to do them.
"Wow, I'm sorry." She said, her sincere tone the last thing I expected, "I am totally guilty of that. Why didn't you just tell me what was bothering you?"
I put away the last of the clean dishes before answering.
Be a grown up, Bri,
I thought to myself,
Just say something true.
"It doesn't actually bother me." I said, realizing the truth of the words as they came out.
"It obviously bothers you if you're so reactive" she replied, "I'll work on it, all right? I just want you to talk to me if you're upset."
"No, Anna, it actually doesn't bother me." I said, rolling with this thinking aloud vibe I had going, "Sometimes, it's not that I don't want you to
tell
me what to, I just want you to make me do it."
No sooner did the words leave my mouth did I wish I could eat them again. I assumed that deer in the headlights expression, and just zipped it before I said something else weird straight out of my subconscious.
Anna stared at me for a few moments, and I got really uncomfortable, and sort of turned away from her, searching for something to do with my hands.
Then she did the last thing I expected her to do. She stepped forward, hooked a couple fingers into the front pocket of my jeans, and pulled me towards her. Her other hand slid up my neck and twisted in my curls. Her lips were so close to mine. I leaned in for the kiss, but she tightened her hand in my hair and held me just a hair's width away.
"Well then," She whispered, as my heart started to pound with excitement. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"
I think I made one of those sounds in the back of my throat that you make when you want to reply, but your girlfriend is so fucking sexy that the part of your brain that makes words just shorts out.
