by Claire Adams
He walked over to his cot, got inside his sleeping bag, and got comfortable. I snuggled back into my sleeping bag, wondering about what was going to happen next.
He looked over at me, smirking.
“You forgot something,” he said.
He pulled out his rolled-up socks from his sleeping bag. He tossed them on the floor by his cot, and he sat up, leaning against his arm.
“You’re still wearing socks,” he said, winking.
“…It’s cold!”
“All of your clothes must go, little lady,” he said.
“You could’ve kept your socks on…”
He pondered that to himself for a few short moments. “Okay, you can keep your socks on.”
“Thank you.”
“But, that means… you have to walk that sexy body of yours over to my bag,” he added with a sly grin.
“Sawyer, it’s fucking cold!” I reiterated.
“That’s the deal, Ms. Stone,” he said. “You come to me.”
I bit my lip but decided to retort. “Don’t you owe me fifteen-hundred dollars for getting out of jail?”
“…Wow,” he said. “I didn’t think it could possibly feel any colder. That’s colder than the ice, Hannah.”
“I waited a whole month before I finally let you inside me,” I said. “I took care of myself that whole month, and it felt good.”
I slid my cold hands down my icy thighs and to my warm center. I began to touch myself, just lightly rubbing my clit. I closed my eyes and moaned. When I opened my eyes, Sawyer was lying on his back, his arms concealed in his sleeping bag.
“I’m really warm and wet…” I whispered.
“You are so goddamn sexy,” he growled.
“So are you… looking at your body and listening to you talk… it’s making my fingers soaked.”
I kept one hand on my clit, lightly pulling and rubbing, while my other explored my throbbing vagina. Two fingers easily found their way in, while I was tempted to do a third. I wanted to prepare for his dick.
“I want to feel that pussy, baby,” he said, jaw clenched.
“Then, come over and feel it,” I said, letting out another moan. “What are you waiting for? Come over here give me that cock.”
I was relaxed, relieved. As I continued to touch myself, I only felt content. What was missing was him. He was not as content as I was. He was red in the face and appeared to be masturbating rather furiously.
“Do you have to win at something so bad that you’re determined to wait me out?” I said, beginning to rub myself a little faster. “It doesn’t have to be a competition… We can play a fun game instead. It’s called ‘69’; ever heard of it?”
Sawyer and I had yet to perform oral sex on each other at the same time. It wasn’t that either of us was against it. I think we were both waiting for a special moment to try something like this for the first time together.
He gulped. “Uh… that sounds fucking amazing. Perfect. Heavenly.”
“Then, get over here and enter heaven,” I said, throwing in a wink.
He broke almost immediately. He leaped from out of his sleeping bag, and before I could even think to do it myself, he was already unzipping my sleeping bag. He put his foot up on my cot, analyzing the situation.
Without a word, I repositioned myself in the sleeping bag. I crawled to the bottom so that my legs would go out, and my glistening pussy would be presented.
Without a word from him, he knew what to do. He slid carefully into the sleeping bag, kissing down my legs and caressing my skin as he made his way in. He felt down my curves, squeezing my sides, and feeling inside of me. I wasn’t just feeling goose-pimples across my skin; I was getting chills.
Finally, his hard cock, already secreting drops of pre-cum, found its way into my mouth where it stayed, throbbing for several seconds. He pulled out, letting me breathe, and then I began to feel his mouth and tongue against my pussy.
I moaned and was silenced by his cock re-entering my hungry mouth. He fed me; all the while I was in bliss from the kisses he left on my clit. His warm lips against my warm lips would now be something I would require for every Wisconsin winter I would endure from then on.
His tongue traveled along my walls. I could feel his intense breathing on my sex. His moans made me want to please him more. When that happened, I would take him out of my mouth, briefly lick his nice balls, and then put him back past my lips and against my throat.
He inserted one of his fingers inside of me while he tickled my clit with his skilled tongue. This was new. I had never had a man’s tongue and finger inside my pussy before. I knew that I would collapse within seconds—it felt so incredible that I could barely take it.
I climaxed, tightening around his finger as I screamed out, unaware and uncaring about the possibility that anyone around might be hearing me. I felt so good that I didn’t mind if others knew.
I sat heaving and panting for only a few seconds, with my hand now firmly gripping his erection. I considered letting him finish in my mouth, but I knew I would have to wait until I could get what I already wanted right then.
I spun myself around in the sleeping bag, wriggling up so that I could climb on top of him, sitting with his cock pressed against my loins. I reached over to my purse and pulled out a condom. I ripped the wrapper and slid the rubber down his throbbing member.
I put his cock inside of me and began to ride him. I had my hands pressed against his chest. My hair would graze his face, and he would sometimes get a good grip on my hair and pull my head back as he pleased. I would feel him tremble, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold. Or maybe he was nervous for some reason, too. He looked nervous to me. We never stopped looking into each other’s eyes, and our hands never stopped exploring each other’s bodies.
It didn’t take long for either of us. He gave me my second orgasm just as he began to fervently thrust into me until he roared like an animal.
We sat panting and kissing for only a few minutes. To my surprise, he reached over to the floor and pulled out another condom. I was stunned that he had refilled so quickly and that he was already so willing to fuck me again.
He moved me around in the sleeping bag so that he could be on top of me. I expected him to be aggressive, “picking up where we left off.” Instead, he was gentle. His thrusts were deep, but they were few. I could savor them even more.
We kissed in between our rhythmic thrusting. I kicked off my socks inside the sleeping bag. For some reason, our sex that night felt different. It didn’t feel like hooking up with a friend, or like fucking a stranger. It felt like making love.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sawyer
It was Friday. Nearly a week had gone by since my successful trip to Lake Mendota took place, and it appeared I was still continuing to reap the benefits of that one night.
Ever since then, Hannah and I had become nearly inseparable. The remainder of the past weekend, and the subsequent week that followed, were filled with intense sex. We couldn’t get enough of each other. There were points where it literally felt as though we were addicted to drugs. We would touch each other randomly. It was like being on ecstasy or something. Sex happened frequently, and when we weren’t physically around each other, we would send each other dirty text messages.
I thought about how she and I had been spending every day together. We were sleeping in the same bed every night. We were doing everything together, even mundane things like going to the store for milk and bread. Not only were we routinely with each other, but I enjoyed doing things with her, including the mundane. It occurred to me that whenever I would make plans, I started factoring Hannah in.
I always wanted to be with her. Once I made that realization, I knew it was time to stop ignoring my feelings.
I wondered again whether I might have been falling in love with Hannah. I stood by the belief that if you had fallen in love, you would know it. It still didn’t feel right to say I loved her, but it didn’t hurt
to say that I cared deeply for her. It felt good to know that I cared about her because she was steadily becoming the most unique, special woman that I had ever known. No one else had come close to her.
And so, once we both got home from work, we showered and decided to kick off the weekend with dinner out. We got dressed up, got in the Camaro, and drove into downtown Madison. We were both indecisive on where we wanted to eat.
Eventually, we agreed on Natalia’s Greek, a new Greek place that just opened two blocks down from Bauman’s. Fortunately for us (and unfortunately for the owners of Natalia’s), we got a table instantly due to a disappointing dinner turnout. We were seated beside a large fish tank that was set in the walls and wrapped around all the way to the back of the restaurant.
“I was just texting Lisa about you and me eating here,” said Hannah. “She says one of us should try their chicken gyro plate. Apparently, it’s really good.”
I held my menu in front of my face, looking over the different options, but barely paying attention to any of the actual content. I was going through an internal battle about how to address my feelings to Hannah.
“I might just have a salad,” she said. “They look pretty good.”
“Yeah,” I grunted.
“It’s a little pricier here than I thought—might have to start making you pay rent, I’ll go broke if we keep eating out like this,” she joked, elbowing me lightly.
I smiled politely, but couldn’t muster a word.
“What’s wrong?” she asked me.
“Nothing… I… I’m paying for dinner anyway,” I stuttered out. “You don’t have to worry about going broke.”
She didn’t seem satisfied with my reply. “Okay…”
I had an epiphany, realizing that I had a solid cue to finally settle my financial debt to her. Seemingly, our sex had been outweighing her desire to be paid back.
“I don’t know why I waited this long,” I said quietly. I pulled out my checkbook and I wrote her a check for $1,608 (the courts had slapped fees on top of my bail amount). I ripped out the check and slid it over to her. She looked at it, grinning.
“I told you that you didn’t have to pay me back right away,” she said.
“Right, and it’s been a couple of weeks since I got out, hasn’t it?”
She nodded in agreement, still not picking up the check.
“I don’t want you to go broke. I can’t accept this.”
“Even though I’ve got over two grand in the bank?” I said. “I won’t be broke.”
“Close enough,” she retorted.
My stomach was killing me. My mild nervousness seemed to be escalating into a sickness, and I didn’t know why. I couldn’t tell how I looked, but I knew that if I looked half as bad as I felt, I didn’t want Hannah to see me like that.
“You might as well rip up that check because I won’t take it,” she persisted. “Write a new one for a smaller amount, if you must, but don’t drain yourself like that.”
“Speaking of draining—” I blurted out, taking another unexpected cue in my favor. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick.”
“Eww,” she said. “That’s more than I needed to know, Sawyer, but please, be excused. What do you want to drink?”
The thought of liquor made me feel sicker. “Just water.”
I stood up and took a few steps towards the bathroom. Then, I turned and for no apparent reason, I went back to her, moving her hair from off her shoulders so that I could place my hands on them. I squeezed her shoulders, and she rested her head against my arm.
“That check better be gone when I get back,” I whispered in her ear.
“I’m dipping it in your glass of water,” she said, kissing my hands.
I went into the restroom, unsure of where to start. I lingered by the sink for a few moments, looking at my reflection. Small beads of sweat had formed around my face. I turned the sink on, splashing my face and letting the water hit my skin, hoping that I would snap out of whatever it was that I was wrestling with.
I knew what I wanted, but I was afraid that I would hurt her. Since I was unsure of exactly how I felt, I didn’t want to make a firm decision and risk destroying what Hannah and I had together. I’d been telling myself that since we were both happy, I didn’t need to ask her for anything else.
…But, I wanted to. And, I thought that she wanted me to, too.
I got a text message. I pulled out my phone, wondering if it was Hannah.
It was the mystery number:
“Fuck me again and pull my hair. Mmmm, make me your little whore.”
I still had yet to discern the identity of my texter. Every time I called to try and hear a voice, it only went to an automated voicemail message. I still wasn’t sure if the phone number belonged to an old flame or hookup. Whoever it was seemed to know things about me. For a while, I thought maybe it was one of my boys just messing with me, but none of them would have kept a joke going for weeks like this.
“I want you to shove your cock down my throat, Sawyer. Make me gag.”
I looked at the texts for a few seconds. Then, I turned off my cell phone and put it in my pocket. I wasn’t going to let anything disrupt the vibe.
I peed, washed my hands, combed my hair, and exited the restroom.
When I got back, our waiter was waiting for me. I sat down next to my glass of water, smiling at Hannah.
“Would you like another minute to look over the menu?” the waiter asked.
I glanced at the menu, then back at Hannah.
“I know what I want,” she said.
“I know what I want, too,” I said absentmindedly. “Uh… sorry. I’ll… uh, try the chicken gyro plate. With veggies.”
“I’ll try the ‘traditional salad,’” said Hannah. “Could my dressing come on the side, please? Thank you.”
The waiter took our menus and was off with haste. I decided to act with haste as well and not risk overthinking it.
“Hey, Hannah… what would you… what do you think happiness is?”
She sipped on her tea, puzzled. “Beg your pardon?”
“Well… we talked about what we thought love meant,” I elaborated. “I want to know what you think it means to be happy.”
She thought about how to answer the question. I was thinking about it, too.
“I think…” she began. “Hmm… what it means ‘to be happy’… I mean, I don’t know. A lot of different things make me happy, it depends.”
“Okay, how about this,” I began to paraphrase, “Do you aspire to be happy?”
“Sure, who doesn’t?”
“So, how do you do that? What is it that you’re pursuing? What makes you happy?”
She considered for a few moments. She shrugged.
“I don’t know, Sawyer, that’s… what’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems like something’s bothering you,” she said. She reached out her hand to me, and I took it willingly.
“I think how we identify happiness is the same as we identify love,” I said. “It changes as we change.”
“I would agree with that,” she said beaming.
“I used to think that I could only be happy going through a guiltless, careless… meaningless journey littered with passionless sex with girls whose names I didn’t need to remember. I enjoyed a lot of the time I spent with those women… I could move on and then be on the hunt for the next one—the chase never had to end. I was happy knowing that I only had to answer to me and I only had to take care of myself.
“But you know what? That’s not enough for me anymore. I started wondering to myself what it was that I was actually chasing. And, I don’t even know. There’s a lot that I don’t know these days. And, it’s all because of you. I don’t mean for that to sound like I’m blaming you or anything. I mean… it’s a good thing.”
I didn’t feel suave or smooth at all at this moment, despite Hannah’s wide smile.
“I’ve
been questioning everything these days,” I continued while nervously tapping my fingers against the table. “We… spend a lot of time together.”
“Yes, we do,” she agreed.
“I know they say don’t mix business with pleasure,” I went on. “You know, since we’re roommates, and it’s awkward to ask for more after all that you’ve done for me—”
“Just say it…”
“I think we should be in a serious relationship,” I said rapidly.
“…You do?”
“You don’t?”
She began to laugh, biting her lip. She held both of my hands in her hands, squeezing them harder than I had ever felt before.
“I want that, too,” she said.
I put my hand on her face, stroking her cheek, looking into her dazzling eyes.
“And I don’t want to leave,” I said to her. “I want to stay with you. I want my future to have you in it. I think we’d look pretty good together.”
She leaned in across the table, and she kissed my lips. We held for several seconds, not noticing our waiter nearby waiting to refill our glasses.
“So…” she said. “I guess I won my bet, too.”
I drew a blank. “What bet was that, again?”
“I said you’d want more after you had sex with me,” she said.
“Okay, yeah, you were right, you were so right. I do want more. I want as much as you’re willing to give me.”
She shook her head, thinking something to herself. She then placed her hand on my face, rubbing my subtle stubble with her fingers.
“Be careful what you wish for,” she said in an interesting tone.
We kissed each other again, thus sealing Hannah Stone as my girlfriend.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Hannah
I woke up beside him, still slightly numb and sore from the night before.
It was a little strange at first. It occurred to me that while Sawyer and I had shared a bed for the last several nights in a row, this was the first time I was waking up next to him as his girlfriend. I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around him. Sleepily, he wrapped his arms around me too.
