by Portia Moore
“Like I’m a little kid with a crush,” he tells me, his confident signature smirk returning. I approach him slowly.
“Are you a man with a crush?” I ask him teasingly. His hands land on my waist and he nods.
“Absolutely.” He pulls me into a thought-stealing kiss.
“So about this date?” I say nonchalantly. He looks at me, his eyes wide with surprise, and it makes me smile.
“You are going on a date with me. Which God should I thank?” he exaggerates, squeezing me in his arms.
“Huh, you’d worship someone other than yourself? I’m shocked!” I tease.
“Keep going and this date will be at Burger King,” he teases back, and I giggle.
“What about a double date?”
“With who?” he asks reluctantly.
“Angie and a guy she’s crazy about apparently. His name’s Devon and he’s a basketball player, so you might even be able to score some tickets if you play nice.”
He winces. “It depends… does Angie want to rip my head off for dating you?”
“No but if you screw it up I’m sure she’ll rip another part of your anatomy,” I say before I give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Ten
…A meal fit for a prince?
“What type of fucking call is that?!” Michael shouts along with all the other sports fans around us.
“Geez he’s more into the game than I am,” Angie teases, as we stuff nachos and popcorn in our mouths. The first part of our double date is actually me and Angie gossiping and eating concession stand food and Michael watching her date, Devon, tear up the court. Devon is a minor league basketball player. He’s tall, not the regular kind but the basketball player kind at 6’7” with an actual athletic build. His skin is the color of a penny and he sports a wavy hair cut into a fade, and has green eyes. Simply put, he’s spectacularly beautiful and him and Angie make a breathtaking couple.
“The ref’s an idiot!” Michael calls out before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek and focusing his attention back on the game. I thought it might have been awkward for us, especially since Angie’s not the biggest fan of him, but it’s been a lot of fun. Michael is barely paying us attention. He’s made friends with a few sports fans sitting near us and is really into the game. Angie leans over in my ear.
“I have to admit. You guys are cute together.” I give her a one-shoulder shrug and look over at him. He flashes me a dazzling smile and squeezes my thigh before nearly scaring the bejeezus out of me, yelling when Devon makes a three-point shot. He and the crowd go crazy. Devon turns towards us and winks at Angie; she blows him a kiss in return.
“Let’s take a bathroom break,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me with her.
“I think I’m falling for him.” She sighs, her big brown eyes wide, and she looks so happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen her before.
“I’m so happy for you,” I tell her genuinely.
“I never felt the way I feel about him before. It’s, it’s scary,” she relents, fiddling with her long thick curls. I’m quiet because I don’t know how to calm her fears. Love is scary, liking someone is scary.
“Giving someone your heart and hoping they don’t stomp on it is one of the bravest things you can do,” I tell her, and squeeze her hand. She gives me a crooked smile.
“And the sex is so amazing. You think he can move on the court, but in bed…” she says with a sneaky smile. I blush. The woman next to us washes her hand with a grin on her face before leaving.
“Let’s stop at the bar before heading back,” I say, and Angie laughs.
“So… about sex?” Angie asks innocently, even though her question is anything but.
“Yeees.” I say, swirling my straw around my Margarita.
“Have you decided if you’re going to let Michael take a shot through your hoop?” She winks at me and I can’t help but to laugh. Have I thought about it? Yes, just about every night! But that’s different from letting it happen.
“It’s easy to think, another to do. Also, how I feel when he touches me, I’m a little afraid.”
She arches a brow at me. “What do you mean?”
“Not in a bad way, in a good way. Too good… when he touches me it’s not how it was with Daniel. It’s more intense, adult. Daniel was a boy, big for his age, but… Michael is a man. It’s different territory.” I start to feel slightly self-conscious.
“Wait, are you afraid you won’t live up to the other girls he’s been with?” she asks, almost in disbelief. I look down at my straw and play with it.
“I’ve only been with one guy one time. I have no clue on how to suck a sausage or ride the bike, so to speak.” I roll my eyes at her and she gives me a soft smile.
“Girl. You don’t have to worry about that. Sex is like learning to dance. Not literally but figuratively, and the more you do it the more you’ll get your groove. And it’s different each time, even when it’s with the same person. Sometimes it’s intense, sometimes it’s light, it can feel like forever, or be quick. Sometime it’s hate, sometimes it’s love. As long as you don’t bite him and you smell good down there I doubt you’ll disappoint him, and I’m pretty sure he won’t mind teaching you what he likes… if that’s what you want.”
Devon’s team wins the game by ten points so the boys are in a fantastic mood by the time we reach Lalo’s, Angie’s favorite Mexican restaurant. The place is packed but we’re lucky enough to get a booth without a wait. We order the party-sized taco and burrito platter and two pitchers of margaritas. Michael and Devon are getting along famously, talking about basketball and every sport in between.
“Uhm, boys, you guys forget you have dates? What? Do we have to have on a mascot head to get some attention!” Angie interrupts playfully.
“No, this is perfect,” Devon says, pulling her to him and kissing her shoulder. Not to be outdone, Michael grabs my face and starts smothering it with kisses. I jokingly push Michael away while Angie basks in the attention.
“Okay, what do you girls want to talk about?” Michael says dramatically. Devon laughs before Michael gives us a beautiful antagonizing smile.
“Let’s play a game. 21 questions!” she says excitedly; the guys groan.
“No, it’ll be fun.” She pouts. “ Okay, seven questions and whoever doesn’t want to answer a question has to take a shot, and you get to pass on a question only one time,” she explains, and the guys seem a bit more interested. My stomach sinks. The rules are not set up in my favor. I’m a lightweight so if I don’t answer a question I’ll end up stupid drunk.
“Okay, Devon, my first question’s to you… how many girls have you slept with?” she asks with excitement.
“I’ll take a shot!” he answers immediately, and we all laugh.
Angie frowns. “Wait, wait. Just give a range, you don’t have to give a specific number.”
Michael and Devon exchange knowing glances.
“Ugh. I don’t know. I lost count after fifty.” He laughs, and Angie’s mouth drops open, as does mine. Only him and Michael seem amused.
“Fifty?!” Angie exclaims.
“I think he said he stopped counting after fifty,” I add quietly.
“What’s the number?” she demands playfully.
“Michael, what about you man?” he asks, taking the heat off himself. I turn to Michael. His green eyes look brilliant tonight.
“Hey, don’t bring me into this!” Michael says, throwing his hands up.
“Tell them it’s different for guys.” Devon gestures.
“It is different, fifty’s like five for girls.” Michael smirks before taking a gulp of his margarita.
“You both are sexist pigs!” Angie points at them accusingly.
“Come on and dance with the me, Ms. Mcdonald.” Devon tells her, pulling her up out of the booth and to the dance floor.
“That was a master move,” Michael chuckles, shifting his body towards me.
“I’m not so easily distracted.
What’s your number?” I ask, adamantly. He throws his head back and laughs like I’ve told the biggest joke in the world. I keep my face serious.
“Look, I’m not going to lie. I’ve been around the block few times.” He says this wearing a flirtatious grin.
“A block or a city?” I assert.
“Does it matter, if it led me to you?” He says this as charming as a prince out of a storybook. I wonder if Cinderella’s prince was a former manwhore? I playfully narrow my eyes at him.
“And on that note, it’s time to dance.” He pulls me up, stealing a lesson from Devon’s playbook. The restaurant’s live band is amazing and the floor is packed but we squeeze our way near Angie and Devon, who look way better dancing than Michael and I could possibly aspire to, but we hold our own. Angie grabs my hand and we dance together much to the boys’ enjoyment, and when the beat switches to something slow and sexy, she nudges me before slinking over to Devon.
I don’t know why I’m nervous when Michael looks at me with a devious smile, but I am and I hide it well. He pulls me close to him. My arms are around his neck and he begins to kiss my wrist. It’s such a innocent place but it feels erotic and I don’t know if it’s the one margarita as he drags his hands across my back and waist and they land on the swell of my butt, but I’m more turned on that I ever have been. I can’t even think straight, blood is pulsing through my body straight to a place that’s making it harder to dance. The atmosphere is intoxicating, and when I feel him through his jeans, my heart begins to race. Angela nudges me, breaking the trance. Devon’s behind her, arms wrapped around her waist as if he doesn’t want to let her get an inch away from him.
“Hey, we’re getting out of here. Do you want us to drop you off since it’s on the way to my house?” Angie asks, trying to read my expression. She’s giving me an out if I want it. Right here I can take it. Michael’s arm gets firmer around my waist. I can still feel him, and I want to feel him more.
“Ugh no we’ll be here a little longer,” I lie. She gives me a knowing look.
“Okay, well call me later okay?” she says with a tipsy smile. We all say our goodbyes. Michael leans down and whispers in my ear.
“How much longer do you want to stay?” he asks, playing with my hair.
“I think we’ve stayed long enough,” I say quietly, and he grins like he’s won the lottery. Heat makes its way across my face.
I’ve been to Michael’s apartment before but it was daytime and I stayed outside, so it’s technically the first time I’ve been in his apartment. It’s a studio but the space is large enough where there are separate areas. There’s a section where his big screen TV and video game system are with a black sofa in front of it, another area that has a punching bag and heavy weights, the kitchen with a small table, and what looks like a king-size bed far in the back. It’s clean yet messy, spacious yet cluttered, an enigma just like its owner.
“Do you have any water?” I ask, my nerves kicking in fully.
“All the water you can drink. Or do you prefer vodka?” he teases, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Water it is,” he promises. I watch him. Tall, lean, and wrapped in muscle.
I absently look around and he hands me the water bottle. I quickly open it and take a sip to calm my nerves. He’s in front of me now, wanting my undivided attention, even though he already has it.
“Want some?” I say, offering it to him. He takes it from me and tosses it on the couch. His hand lands on my waist and I let out a held-in breath.
I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know what I was thinking but I’m not ready to have him in the way I want him. Not yet, not with things being so new, so great. I start to panic, remembering what happened after the last time I had sex. Stop it! He’s not Daniel!
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his beautiful face full of concern.
“I’m sorry. I just… I came here wanting to… I thought I was ready, but— ”
“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want do tonight. If you want to lie on that couch and cuddle, it’ll be a hard long night, but we’ll make it work. I like you, it’s not just about sex. If it was I’d have been done after our second non-date.” His eyes are full of sincerity, and it makes my heart swell. I let out a sigh of relief.
“You’re not disappointed?” I ask him unsurely. He laughs.
“I’m a guy, you’re in here with this dress on,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down my body, both lips pressed together.
“But, I don’t want to until you’re really ready,” he assures me. I hug him tightly.
“I’m sorry. It’s just me and sex. I’ve had a bad experience. Not with it, it was okay… it was the aftermath,” I try to explain. He looks confused. We sit down and I lay it all out on the table what happened with me and Daniel, how bad he hurt me, and how I’m terrified of being hurt that way again. When I finish, he looks at me stunned but is smiling.
“I’m sorry that happened to you, but you mean to tell me you’ve only had sex once?” he asks, almost giddy. I frown.
“That’s what you take from what I just told you?” I ask, disappointed. He stands and walks towards me.
“No, men are trash… teenaged boys even worse. But baby. You’re almost like a virgin?” His eyes are lit up like a cat with a mouse. I sigh.
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. That’s amazing.” He continues kissing me on both cheeks.
“Gosh now you’re treating me like I’m your little sister.”
I’m so embarrassed.
He frowns at me.
“What? Fuck no. I’m not looking at you like my little sister!” His voice drops and he looks at me so intensely I have to clear my throat. He drags his fingers down my neck and makes me look at him.
“I want to do something for you. If you’re open to it,” he says, his expression serious. I look at him confused.
“I promise, if you let me do this, I won’t take it any further. Even if you beg for it,” he teases. “Trust me, okay?” He lifts me out of the chair. When he sits me on the table and starts moving my dress up, I start to tremble.
“I promise, no further than this,” he says again, maintaining eye contact with me, and I nod as I watch this man in front of me, when I’ve only been with a boy. He leans down and begins to push my dress up. It’s long but fitted. When I put it on I imagined it being sexy but not provocative. From the look in Michael’s eyes I was wrong because it’s provoking. Nervousness and anticipation collide as I realize what he’s about to do. Something Daniel wouldn’t have ever thought of doing… he called it “disgusting.” When Michael’s hand slips into my underwear and his finger makes its way inside of me, I let out a small breath. And when he brings his finger to his mouth and savors it, I know I’m in trouble.
“Lie back,” he commands, only the hint of a smile on his lips.
“I thought—” I begin to say, and he puts that same finger to my lips.
“Shut up, please. You won’t be able to in a minute,” he promises, his eyes gleaming with lust and mischief. I don’t protest this time. I do as I’m told and close my eyes. He pulls my underwear down and spreads my legs. I think of how the tables have turned, how I was in control of our dates, the time of them, where they took place. It was all strategic, so he could get me here. I gasp as his mouth presses down on me. He moves his finger deeper inside of me. His lips are caressing, his tongue pressing, and they all move in a perfect rhythm. Slowing down, speeding up, simultaneously teasing but unrelenting.
I can’t stay quiet anymore. I’m pulling his hair for dear life. I’m moaning, panting, begging him to stop, to not to stop, calling out to God! I’m an incoherent, babbling mess and I’m getting louder and louder until my entire body melts and I have no voice. Then it’s quiet. I can’t speak and I can only try to catch my breath. He pulls me up to him, a satisfied grin on his face. He looks so pleased with himself. He kisses my breathless mouth.
“It’s only fair you feed me after al
l the times I fed you.” He chuckles, and I roll my eyes at him but it takes all the effort in the world. I’m exhausted.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed, Sleeping Beauty.”
He keeps his promise. He lets me sleep the entire night and he’s the perfect gentleman aside from waking me up with his tongue inside of me the next morning, but that’s as far as it goes, and I wonder how much longer I’ll be able to hold out because now I can’t imagine going another day without thinking about having sex.
Eleven
…was the glass slipper actually plastic?
It’s been four weeks since the night Michael claimed me as his favorite meal, and every time we’re together I’m usually his dessert. His power of restraint is not only impressive but almost irritating. He never pressures me about sex and only lets me give him a hand job, which, compared to what he gives me, I’d take almost as an insult. But tonight it all changes. We’ve been exclusive for two months and after Auntie Raven gives him her stamp of approval, I’ll let him do whatever he can think of to me. Well, almost everything.
“I love Chicago. But if I went to school here I probably would have flunked out, there’s so much to do here. I admire your self-discipline,” she tells me, as we settle into my favorite brunch spot with our shopping bags.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I tell her genuinely. She smiles at me, touched.
“I’m so glad that you still want your old aunt around. My friends are all jealous that you actually invited me. They said their kids have never asked them to visit at their school.”
“First off, you’re not old. And second, that’s because you’re a cool aunt.” I tease her, paraphrasing a quote from our favorite movie Mean Girls. She laughs; it’s elegant but unrestrained, which sums her up perfectly.
“So what do you recommend?” she asks, picking up the menu and examining it.
“I love the crepes and sausage but Michael likes the stuffed pancakes,” I tell her. When she doesn’t answer I see her smiling at me brightly.
