Anyway, that's how I started my relationship with Efe.
It was definitely the strangest relationship that I'd ever had. The easiest as well. I'd dated girls in the past as well- a six-month relationship in high school, both of us fumbling around with no idea about what we were doing in and out of the bedroom. I'd gone on a handful of dates in college, culminating in a disastrous off-and-on again thing with a girl I thought was sweet and damaged but turned out to be horribly selfish and narcissistic- and a cheater to boot. It ended with her finally dumping me for good, leaving me with little more than a lot of stress and issues with women that took me a year to resolve.
My point was that I had enough experience in relationships to know what to expect. Dates, dinners and movies, fun and games that slowly morphed into semi-serious discussions about the future; a lot of effort on the guy's part to begin with unless their game was
really
good. The occasional argument.
I got my first hint that things would be different for Efe when she came over to my house five minutes after I got home that night; she brought with her some sort of curry dish and a beer, which she put down on my coffee table before starting a makeout session that turned into a nice, slow fuck. While I recovered she busied herself with preparing a meal for me, clicking her tongue at my dirty plates as she dished out the food. Having your hot young next door neighbour hand you a plate of delicious food and a can of beer while naked turned out to be an undiscovered fetish of mine, and so the food ended up needed to be reheated after I dragged her back to the bed. I sat down to eat but noticed that she'd neglected to dish out any food for herself.
"I'll be eating later with my sister," she said. "I don't mind- eat! You need feeding. So skinny!"
I ate and we talked and then we fucked again. There wasn't the slightest hint of shyness from her anymore; not a moment of hesitation as she, following my commands, rolled over and rose to her hands and knees, her heavy breasts hanging low while I slid into her from behind. The sight of her panting and shuddering her way through an orgasm, braids hanging down across her face, as I drove into her had to have been one of the hottest things I'd ever seen.
She came over the next night and the night after that; sometimes bringing food, always bringing eager, hot sex. Afterwards we'd cuddle and talk for a while; I learned about her parents sending both of them to America for schooling, her sister's chance to allow them both to stay in the country through her job. I learned about her loneliness, about her sister's protectiveness; a bitter lesson learned from a disastrous love affair with an American man who turned out to be cruel and faithless. Eventually she'd get up and explain that her Kayin would be coming back and leave. I'd asked her once if she wanted to go on a date- see a movie, go out or the like. She looked confused for a moment before explaining that no, she was fine; she didn't really need to do anything like that unless I wanted to.
"I mean, I like looking after you," she said, cuddling up against me in a way that made her breasts press against my chest. "And I said I would."
"When?" I asked, but she ignored the question.
Sex, too, was an area where she differed from most girls. She clearly enjoyed sex with me- my college ex had been good for teaching me how to fuck properly, at least- but it wasn't long before I realised that her orgasms were merely a pleasant bonus to what she really wanted.
And what she really wanted was to look after me.
Her goal in life seemed to be to make sure that I was happy, with a full belly and empty balls. She took to these two tasks with both determination and eager relish, happy to offer relief to my cock the moment she sensed I was horny. Long, slow, passionate romantic sex, the two of us entwined on the bed, or a rough quicky against the wall with her pants around her ankles; she was ready for both. I mentioned blowjobs in an off-hand way and she immediately set about training herself. Within a week she was deep-throating me. Deciding to push the boundaries a little, I told her I wanted her to do anal; she looked a little hesitant but agreed, and the next night she groaned and bucked beneath me while I eased my way into her lubricated ass.
(For what it's worth anal doesn't feel particularly impressive but there's nothing more psychologically arousing than having a girl who was a virgin a month ago happily give up her ass to you. It wasn't an experience I repeated though).
To be honest, I felt a little conflicted. I mean- a hot, sexy school-age (okay, nearly school-age) girl who literally got off on making sure I was happy... but it all felt a little too easy, a little to servant-master for me. I wasn't the sort of guy who liked took people- friends, family, definitely not my hot girlfriend- for granted, and I was becoming more and more aware it would be extremely easy to do exactly that with Efe. My conscience kept very softly, very politely but very determinedly reminding me that this was all a little too good to be true.
It meant that I made sure she got her share of orgasms during sex; that she only cooked for me sometimes (not that my fridge didn't fill up with leftovers); that she did not need, as I had to explain to her, to clean my apartment, thank you very much. That she got gifts and flowers (cheap, mind you- I was still very much broke) and I took the time to listen to her complaints about her day. Little things but they meant I didn't feel like a complete tool when she showed up, ready to strip down and see to my needs after a long day at work.
"You really need to stop complaining."
It's a funny thing about friends. Like I said, you have to know them to get them. In an indirect way fucking Efe let me make friends with Claire.
Claire worked in the cubicle next to me in the shithole data centre that paid me far too little. She was one of those indie rocker chicks that never would have existed out my sleepy little country town; all bright coloured hair, piercings, tattoos and other clear signs that this was a girl who was way, way too cool for me. And for the first few months of working with her, this did the trick; sad, single me barely knew what to say to her. Not-single me, who was getting fucked into a happy puddle nightly by his barely-legal girlfriend, was a different matter, and soon enough I'd broken whatever strange little barrier existed between us. This meant, it turned out, being regaled with endless stories about bands I'd never heard of, parties I'd never gone to and boyfriends (and girlfriends) that seemed to come and go with dizzying speed.
Right now she ran her hands through her (blonde with blue highlights) hair, clucked on her tongue piercing, and said, "You're basically living every guy's dream."
"It's not every guy's dream."
"Whatever you say, hayseed." (Yes, I'd told her to stop using that nickname. No, she didn't stop). "Look, you've got a hot girl who wants to take care of you, alright?"
"Well, yeah, I just think-"
"Look, I've dated a lot of guys." She paused. "Some girls. Trust me, I know the type."
"Type?"
"Givers. They get off on making sure their Ess-ooh's all comfy and shit. It's their 'love language' or whatever. I knew this one guy, he wouldn't be happy if he thought I was tired or upset. Always, "Are you okay? Are you happy?"
"You don't sound all that happy."
"Found it clingy. He
was
clingy. But after I broke up he started seeing this other girl, and she ate the princess and knight treatment all up." She shrugged. "Just don't act like a cunt with her- girls like that, they tend to attract complete cunts- and she'll be happy enough."
"Hm." I paused. "It's still a little weird."
"Christ's sake, Hayseed- just enjoy it while it lasts, okay? What's the worst that could happen?"
"Her sister could kill me." I'd bumped into Kayin in the hall yesterday. She gave me the sort of glare that promised bloody, screaming murder. I'd texted Efe to let her know that that jig might finally be up.
"Her sister really that scary, hayseed?"
"Scary as hell."
