Lucky Prince_A Fake Fiance, Real Royal Wedding Romance
Page 15
“Your turn,” she said. Just as she said that, I saw Ryan had made his way to the basement and found a spot in the circle. I immediately got nervous. But, I was willing to play along. I spun the bottle softly and it wobbled a little bit.
“Come on! That was weak! Give it a REAL spin,” said Courtney energetically.
I spun it again. The bottle spun like a tiny tornado, moving around the circle. People moved out the way so that they wouldn’t be hit by the spinning glass bottle. The bottle began slowing. It went slower and slower until it landed on Gary, Ryan’s best friend who was sitting next to him. He looked at me, winked, and licked his lips.
“Wait! It’s still moving,” said a guy sitting in the circle. Sure enough, the bottle move a little bit more until it landed directly on Ryan. It was the first time that I ever remember him looking at me. His eyes were so clear, so calm. I didn’t know if I had crawled or floated over to where he sat in the circle. I leaned over and gave him a quick peck, which was met with a bunch of cat calls by the rest of the people in the basement. I was embarrassed, but the kiss felt wonderful. It was better than I had imagined that it would be all those days that I spent daydreaming about kissing him while sitting behind him in Algebra class.
When the party was over, Shelly and I prepared to walk home.
“How did you guys get here?” asked Courtney, picking up trash that had been left all over the living room.
“We walked,” said Shelly matter-of-factly.
“Okay, well, maybe you can see if someone can give you guys a ride home. Hey, Ryan! You’re going on that side of town, right?”
Ryan had been deep in conversation with someone, so it took her calling his name a few times before he finally responded.
“Yeah, I’m going that way. You guys need a ride?”
“Yes,” I said loudly.
“Wow,” said Courtney, laughing. “It looks like someone has come out of their shell. Maybe the kiss had something to do with it.”
Ryan laughed.
“Court, you are a riot,” said Ryan. “I’ll pull the car around to the front door for you ladies. Hang tight.”
I stood there trying to hide my excitement. I had already kissed him and now I was going to be in a car with him. I didn’t know how I had gotten so lucky, but I was glad that I had come to the party with Shelly.
We stood there for a few minutes waiting for him to pull up.
“Do you see him?” asked Shelly, craning her neck all around to see his car. All we could see was people getting into their cars and pulling off. After about thirty minutes, we realized that he had left already.
“Let’s just go,” said Shelly, pushing me out the door. It was almost 11 o’clock at night and pitch black. It was the saddest walk of shame that I had ever taken. I couldn’t believe that I had gotten my signals so confused. I thought that he was a sweet guy and that he liked me. But, the fact that he lied about wanting to take us home spoke volumes.
And now, here I was with that same feeling. I was sure that Blake liked me. But, when he pulled away, it brought up all of those same feelings that I had felt on the night of the party as I walked home in the dark.
I folded my arms and stared at him. Even in the dark, I could see the nervousness on his face from the glare of the TV. He fidgeted with his fingers, his eyes roaming all over the room like he was searching for the best words to say.
“I…I don’t want to offend you at all…“he said, his voice trailing off. He rubbed the back of his neck as if he were in pain.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I guess I didn’t realize that you had changed or mind about our arrangement. And I was in the moment. I figured why wait?”
He was quiet for a moment, watching my every move. I was beginning to feel more uncomfortable by the minute.
“I know the arrangement that we have. And I’m glad that we have the arrangement. I feel lucky that you even agreed to it. But…“he sighed. I wish that I could read his mind to find out what was holding him back. Was he not attracted to me? I was afraid to ask, afraid that I would find out that my dreams would be dashed to pieces in less than twenty four hours of me getting here.
“Don’t get me wrong; I am VERY attracted to you. I don’t want you think that. It’s just…maybe it’s just my own stupid hopefulness, but I was hoping that we could take our time, get to know each other better, so that when we did have sex, it would be something organic, natural, not something forced or the result of some arrangement that made sex something that you just had to do. I guess I want you to want it when we do it. I want you to want me.”
He stopped talking and covered his face with his hands. He looked drained, like he had been holding that in for quite some time. I sat down on the couch next to him, uncovered his face, and took his face in my hands.
“I do want you,” I told him evenly. “I want you so much. That’s why I even felt the urge to make a move. It doesn’t feel forced. It feels so natural, so right. I didn’t know what to expect when I agreed to come out here. Actually, I had convinced myself that you would turn out to be like 100 years old or something.”
That made him laugh hard. In fact, he laughed so hard that he had to stop to try catching his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said when he could manage to speak. “I’m not laughing at you, really. It’s just that I had the same thought when I saw your picture. I assumed that you had sent me an old picture or a picture of someone else altogether. Maybe a model or something. But, I really do want this to be an arrangement that works for the both of us. So, that’s why I’m okay if we wait a while before exploring things sexually.”
I grabbed his hand in mind and stared deeply into his eyes.
“I want it now,” I said. His eyes widened. He just stared at me wordlessly. After a few moments where he searched my face, looking for a hint of deception or hesitation and not finding it, he kissed me. His lips felt soft and warm pressed against mine. I kissed him back hard. He grabbed the back of my neck and took longer and deeper kisses. He leaned on top of me, pressing me against the soft couch so that I sank into the pillow. The weight of his body felt perfect, not at all confining or uncomfortable.
We laid on the couch making out like teenagers for a good while before we finally came up for air.
“I just want to make sure that you’re doing this because you want to, not because you feel that this is part of the agreement. Like…I’m not stupid. I get that you probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the agreement, but still. I want to give you time to adjust to everything that’s going on here. It’s all new. I want to make it clear that I really don’t expect anything at this point.” I could sense the nervous energy starting to build up in him again.
I pressed my finger against his lips, signaling for him to stop talking.
“I do want this. I do want you. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t,” I said, hoping to reassure him. He nodded slowly, looking at me intently.
He stood up, reached down, and scooped me up into his arms. He did it easily, like I was a feather. He carried me down the hallway to the room that he had set up as mine and carefully placed me on the bed. I waited for him to join me. He didn’t at first. He walked around the bed staring at me like I was a billiard on a pool table and he was trying to figure out the perfect angle to shoot his shot. I just laid there still, watching him watch me.
He finally crawled over to where I laid on the bed and began caressing my face. He worked his hands down, running his hands over my breasts, kneading them gently. He moved his hands down until he landed on my crotch. His hands purposefully massaged my pussy. It felt good even with all of my clothes on.
I peeled off my jeans and kicked them off of the bed onto the floor. I pulled my bottom down shirt up over my head and threw it in the same direction. His eyes roamed the length of my body. I could feel my nipples hardening. He reached over and pulled out one of my breasts and began sucking it. The moment that his tongue touched me, sparks of elec
tricity seemed to resonate through my body. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and moaned. He took time, carefully and attentively sucking and caressing each of my breasts. He moved downward, kissing a trail from my breasts down my belly. He stopped once he reached my vagina. He kissed the hairs of my pussy softly, making a soft smacking noise with each kiss. I looked down and saw that his eyes were closed, like he was savoring every kiss. He parted my pussy lips and plunged his tongue into my moist center. I gasped at the suddenness of it. His wet tongue felt wonderful against my soft, wet pussy. He licked my clit up and down, back and forth, making it jump with delight. He started circling his tongue around and around my clit. I wrapped my legs around his shoulders and started pumping my hips, panting with excitement as I felt the orgasm building within me. I exploded in a powerful orgasm, splashing little drops of cum onto his tongue. He drank it up greedily. Once he had his fill of me, he pulled off his pants, pulled out his hard dick, and pressed it against my pussy. When he started to push his dick into my pussy, I could feel the thickness. He was so big, I had to hold my breath as he pushed in each solid inch of himself. He felt amazing. He started to stroke slowly, like he was trying to feel each and every inch of me. My pussy tightened it’s grip around his dick as he slid in and out easily. I could feel my pussy getting wetter, hotter, with each stroke. He stroked long and deep for a while, my hips circling to meet his thrusts.
All of a sudden, I could feel the intensity rising from the soles of my feet and shooting up toward my head. My pussy began pulsating, gripping and releasing his dick over and over. My body trembled as each wave of the orgasm coursed through my body. It started to die down. Before I had the chance to recover from the first one, another orgasm was already beginning to build. This went on for a while until I had so many orgasms that I lost count of how many I had. I had never came so hard from any other guy that I had ever slept with.
“I’m coming!” he yelled out, tensing his body as his dick dug deeper into my pussy. When he finished, we laid there in the bed trying to catch our breath. I could feel sleep weighing heavily on my eyelids. I felt completely drained and completely refreshed at the same time.
As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but feel grateful that Blake turned out to be an incredible guy and not some creepy old man.
I could already tell that I was going to really enjoy our time together.
Chapter 5 – Blake
I had such vivid dreams that night. It had been such a long time since I had had any dreams that I could remember. These dreams were about paradise. The lush, green covered everything as far as the eye could see. Vibrant flowers were scattered everywhere. The sun shone brightly, making everything look like it has been kissed by the sun.
When I opened my eyes, I struggled to focus. I had a moment of confusion as I tried to figure out exactly where I was. It took me a few minutes to remember that I had fallen asleep in the bed next to Talia.
I glanced over to the side of the bed where she lay. She looked so peaceful. I watched the rise and fall of her chest as she took in long, deep breaths. Part of me felt the urge to reach over and brush the hair out of her her face. I didn’t want to risk waking her, though. But, she was beautiful. I wished that I could have just laid there all morning staring at her.
It had been a very long time since I had woke up next to a woman. In fact, it had been pretty close to a decade. My wife and I spent many years sleeping apart from each other. Most of the time, I would find a place on the couch or in a spare guest room and she would sleep in the bedroom. Our lives had drifted so far apart that I would come home after a long day of work and she would come in from doing whatever it was that she had spent the day doing. I would often fall asleep with the TV watching me.
There was one night, though, that was different. I remember when she came out of the bedroom and stood in the doorway of the living room. She almost startled me because I didn’t know that she had been standing there.
“Come lay with me,” she asked quietly.
“What?” I asked her, straining my ear in her direction so that I could try to hear her.
“Come lay with me,” she repeated, this time a little bit louder. I almost ignored her and turned over on the couch. But, something in the way that she asked me to lay with her made me pay more attention. She looked so much like a child, like she was afraid of her own shadow. I got up, turned off the TV, and followed her to the bedroom. Once we got there, she clicked off the TV, slid into the bed, and waited. I slid into bed next to her. She wiggled her way backward against me, pulling my arms around her like a warm blanket. It felt nice to be holding her.
As nice as the memory was, it also made me realize how careful I needed to be. I shouldn’t be laying there, trying to relish in the moment, trying to get closer to her. I needed to keep things simple. I wanted us to be friends who had sex, nothing more. I felt that doing things like falling asleep in bed together would make things more complicated and confusing. I cursed myself for falling asleep and wanting to take her in my arms. I didn’t want to get so attached to her that I could be hurt by anything that she did or didn’t do. I wasn’t ready for that kind of rejection.
I slid out of bed wordlessly and made my way out into the hallway, being careful to close the door behind me softly so that it wouldn’t wake her.
I went into the kitchen and started rifling through the pantry to see what I could whip up for us for breakfast. Finding some bread, milk, and eggs, I decided that I would treat her to a plate of my famous French toast. I figured that she would be really hungry when she woke up. I certainly was. I could hear my stomach growling loudly in protest.
I tried to throw myself into cooking, telling myself that I needed to get her off of my mind for a while. It didn’t work. Instead, I found myself more drawn to thoughts of her. Would she be happy here? What if she changed her mind and decided that she wanted to leave? I wasn’t going to keep her against her will, that was for sure. But, I know that she had enjoyed herself the night before. Thinking about her soft, wet pussy made me swallow hard. I couldn’t wait to have more of her.
I was sure that the smell of French toast cooking would waft through the hallway and make her emerge. After making a whole loaf of French toast and not seeing her, I got a little worried and decided to go check on her. I grabbed a tray and loaded it with a plate of French toast, a banana, and a glass of orange juice. I would leave the food next to her bed so that whenever she did finally wake up, she would have it there to eat.
To my surprise, when I got to her room, she was not in bed. In fact, she was no anywhere in the room. I stopped and listened carefully to the sound of jazz music flowing from the next room. I walked over to the double doors leading to the art room and pushed them open enough so that I could look inside. Talia was standing in front of an easel, splashing colors across it. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn’t even notice when I walked into the room and stood behind her. I cleared my throat and she jumped.
“Good morning,” I said, placing the tray of food on the table behind the easel. “I thought that you might be hungry, so I made you some food.”
“Oh, I’m hungry, alright,” she said, giving me a playful wink and smiling. She had such an easy way of turning me on. I smiled back, feeling my dick beginning to harden in my pants.
“Well, here you go,” I said, motioning toward the food.
She had streaks of paint all over her hair, face, and clothes. But, I could tell that she really didn’t care. She had been so immersed on finishing her art that she put more attention in the work that she was creating rather than worrying about what her own appearance looked like. Even though she was messy, there was something about how she looked that really turned me on.
“I have another appetite that I want to whet,” she said, sauntering over to where I stood next to the table. She kissed me hard, her soft lips caressing mine. I circled my arms around her waist and pulled her closer to me. I could feel her hard nipples pressed
against my chest.
I unbuttoned her shirt and threw it onto the floor. She unbuttoned her pants and shimmied out of them, making them land in a pile near where her shirt had landed. Her curvy body looked amazing. I tried not to stare as she shed her bra and panties. I reached down and stroked my dick, feeling it stiffen excitedly in my pants.
I leaned her over the table and spread her legs apart wide. I pulled my dick out of my pants, spit on my hand, and rubbed it over my dick. I entered her pussy, pushing my hard dick deep inside of her. She moaned loudly, trying to brace herself against my thrusts. I pushed deeper and deeper into her wet pussy, feeling her pussy get more wet with each stroke. I pounded her pussy over and over, pushing as hard as I could, trying to go deeper with each stroke. I tried to maintain my composure and not explode in a powerful orgasm too fast, but her pussy just felt so good.
I yelled loudly as I came, holding her hips firmly as the waves of cum poured out of my pulsating dick.
After we finished, I leaned over and handed her her clothes. She refused them and, instead, walked back over the canvas and started painting more. She ran her fingers along the canvas, taking great care to make sure that each of the colors was blended well. Her butt wiggled from side to side as she worked, flitting her fingers back and forth across the canvas.
After a few minutes, she stood back and stared at the canvas. She walked over the plate of food that I had left for her and started to nibble on it while looking over her painting.
“I can go heat that up for you if you want. I don’t want you eating cold food,” I told her, moving toward her so that I could get the tray.
“No, it’s fine,” she said, waving me away. “It’s actually really delicious. You made this yourself?”
“Yes,” I said. “It tastes a lot better hot, though.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she said. “But, I’m used to it. And besides, by the time that heat it up again, I’ll probably be working on my art more and the food will only get cold again, anyway.”