Recovered Love

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Recovered Love Page 4

by Chrissy Snyder


  Lacey arrived about an hour ago, and we’re just goofing around before we need to get ready for tonight. We’re heading out to a local club to get our dance on, and I can’t wait. We’re in my kitchen, and I’ve poured us both a glass of wine to savor while we get ready. Lacey is sitting on my center island, eyeing the bananas sitting in the wire basket. “Go ahead,” I tell her, “just help yourself, you know you don’t have to ask.” I see her shaking her head, “No, that’s not what I was thinking at all,” she says giggling, “I was thinking that you don’t know how to give a blow job and you should. It’s a skill every girl needs,” she finishes seriously. I’m so shocked that I suck in a large gulp of air with my wine, and end up spitting most of it out, choking while laughing.

  “Geez woman”, I cough out, “give a girl some warning.” We’re both giggling, but I’m eyeing the bananas, curious.

  “Ok”, I tell her, “I’ll bite,” I wince and quickly correct myself, “no wait that was a wrong word choice,” I say laughing. “I’m interested in your knowledge, you penis whisperer, show me what you’ve got,” I finish while bowing down to her in deference.

  “You’re such a dork,” she says while throwing an orange at my head, “This is why you haven’t met anyone.

  “Too much granola and sunshine,” she snorts, “Well, that and you’re just too damn picky,” she says while throwing her nose up into the air.

  I run over to her and throw my arms around her in a big hug, “That’s why I have you, you sassy bitch,” I tell her. We both laugh as she nods at me, agreeing with me.

  “Listen, do you want a bj lesson or not?” she asks. I nod eagerly, I mean, I’m not one to turn down learning a new skill and all.

  Lacey’s come prepared for the lesson with an enormous package of condoms. Lesson number one is learning how to put on a condom, If only I could learn how to tear the damn package open. Geez, they lock these things down like Fort Knox. It only takes me 3 tries to figure out how to roll it down (not backwards) all while pinching the top. I catch Lacey shaking her head at me several times and I can’t help but to burst out laughing. She’s right. I’m a total and utter mess. What other 22 year old out there do you know in this day and age is still a virgin? Yeah, me neither. Just me, me and well…me. I let out a sigh, and get back to the task at hand. Lacey is carefully instructing me on how to hold, and stroke a cock. Gah, I even blush at her use of the word cock. She’s very clear in telling me how firm to be with the cock itself, and less firm with the balls. She cautions me to carefully watch a man’s face to read whether they like what I’m doing or not. She assures me that it would be clear to me, one way or another. I’m skeptical, but I don’t have much to add, so I keep my mouth shut. Well, I was keeping my mouth shut, but we’re on to the “sucking cock”, part of the lesson.

  “So,” she says to me, “a lot of guys really love to tangle their hands into your hair when you’re blowing them,” she says in her best tutorial voice. I snort at her antics, this woman cracks me up.

  “Holy shit sweets”, she shouts suddenly as I look at her in question.

  “Whaa?” I question around my mouthful of banana.

  “You can deep throat,” she crows happily, clapping her hands. “See if you can swallow while it’s deep in your throat”, she instructs, “a lot of guys really love that move cause it grips their cock the same way your pussy does when you’re coming.”

  I try, but gag and cough, “how am I supposed to do that and breathe?” I ask her.

  “Through your nose, dumbass”, she says sarcastically.

  God I love her, she’s so sassy and mouthy. I keep trying, till I’m finally meeting Lacey’s lofty standards. I’m hoping I’m off the hook with her embarrassing questions when Lacey bursts out with, “if you know a guy is clean, you can do it without the condom, but truthfully sweets it’s best if you’re safe,” she says, “and most guys will give you a signal of some kind that they are about to come. So you can swallow, or not,” she finishes with a smile on her face. I must have an odd look because she says, “Please tell me you know what an orgasm is.” I blush and turn my face away, until she grabs my chin and forces me to look at her. She lets out a huge overly dramatic sigh and says, “I see I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

  I roll my eyes, “Whatever Lacey, don’t be such a bitch,” I snark out, embarrassed to be caught out. “Listen doll,” she says softly, “I’m on your side and I’m trying to help you so that you’re prepared, and not flopping around like a fish out of water,” she says firmly.

  I nod my head, “Yeah, I know and I’m sorry,” I say, “I’m just embarrassed is all. I’ve obviously heard about people swallowing and stuff, but is it good? Do you?” My face feels extra hot and my scalp is tinging, but I couldn’t hold it in, I have to know.

  “First off don’t be embarrassed around me, I’m here for you,” she says while rubbing my arms. “Secondly to answer your question, I do swallow and I do like it, most of the time.” I must have a look of confusion on my face so she goes on to explain, “Sometimes what a man eats can affect the taste. So things like too much asparagus and garlic makes it taste stronger, but lots of pineapple or fruit and it can sometimes have a sweeter taste.” She shrugs and then looks at me as if gauging whether or not she should ask me what she wants to. She must decide it’s ok to continue.

  “So….have you ever had an orgasm?” she asks.

  I’m beet red, humiliated, but I answer her, “Yes Lace, I’ve had an orgasm.” I stick my nose in the air proudly and sniff saying, “I even have a vibrator. I’m not a damn nun.” I finish hotly. I clear my throat and ask, “Can we please change the subject or something?” Lacey nods and lets me off the hook, thank goodness.

  We head to my closet, so she can help me pick something to wear out tonight. We settle on a kickass sleeveless red dress that is backless and the cowl neck plunges very low in the front. The skirt portion is tight to my body and very short. I have full breasts, but they’re firm so I can get away without a bra, but it still feels strange to me, as if I’m naked somehow and everyone can see. Lacey convinces me to go without panties as well, noting even a thong was showing lines and ruining the entire look of the dress. I agree reluctantly, nervous that I’ll show something I shouldn’t, but I’ll deal with it if it happens. Mom always tells me not to “borrow trouble”, and she’s right. I’ll deal with it if it happens, otherwise I’m not even going to think on it.

  My hair is thick and wavy, almost black in color. It’s long, and reaches to my bottom. I don’t want to ruin the effect of the dress, so Lacey convinces me to pull it into a loose side bun, and I love how it looks with it swept off my face like that. My makeup is a dramatic smoky cat eye, and minimal color on the lips. Finishing the look are large hoop earrings, and kickass pumps that add 4 inches to my 5’1” frame.

  Lacey is a redhead, and she’s wearing a smoking hot, deep green halter dress that showcases her long legs, gorgeous eyes and thick auburn hair. Her peaches and cream skin looks especially radiant tonight and her green eyes are sparkling. She’s tall at 5’8”, and has a serious addiction to shoes of any kind. Tonight she’s wearing a pair of Jimmy Choos and I wish we wore the same size, but like my tiny frame, my feet are tiny too and I wear a size five.

  We decide to cab it, so both of us can let loose and have a few drinks. I’m a lightweight, but I’d still like to have a few. We throw ourselves into the back of the cab, giggling as we give the driver the address. The drive doesn’t take long especially with the two of us chatting away. The club is already packed when we get there, but we don’t have to wait in any lineups as Lacey approaches the bouncer and says, “Hey sugar, we’re just going to head on in,” and proceeds to kiss him on his cheek and sail right on by him. I just grin sheepishly and tag on her coattails, ducking my head as I head past him, ignoring the angry looks of people standing in line.

  The music is pumping and I’m stoked to do some dancing. We don’t even stop to get a drink first, choosing to get ou
r groove on instead. It isn’t long before a fine sheen of perspiration coats my body as I shake my ass and twirl my hips. I let the music move me and let a week’s worth of tension leave my body. My legs are shaking with fatigue, and I’m out of breath but having a fantastic time. I’m so glad I let Lacey talk me into this. I needed it more than I knew. I dance with my eyes closed, but I have the weirdest sensation come over me, my skin tingling with awareness. I open my eyes and the first thing I see is an extremely gorgeous man standing with his back against the bar, staring at me. His gaze is intense as he stares, making me feel funny, almost ill. I feel wetness between my legs and curse Lacey for not allowing me a pair of panties. I’ll be mortified if it’s noticeable to anyone else and I cringe at the idea. It’s as if he knows what I’m thinking because he smirks at me, with those full lips of his. I can’t tell what color his eyes are from here, but what I can see is that he is very tall, very big and blond. I throw a little smile at him, but then my mouth drops open in shock when I see two more just like him. Holy Shit….triplets? Lacey has finally noticed that I’m not paying any attention to her and looks to see what or who I’m looking at. “Oh,” she shouts, “aren’t they tasty. Let’s go over and say hi,” she says pulling on my arm. I yank back, “No way, I’m not ready for that.” Lace just shakes her head at me, annoyed no doubt, but I can’t let that bother me. She stomps off finding another friend to dance with while I shrug my shoulders. She can’t stay mad at me. I look back over to see that the sexy guy has pushed himself off the wall and is walking towards me. Stalking me more like. I feel like I’m a rabbit and he’s a big coyote, ready to pounce.

  “Hi, I’m Reid,” he says in a gravelly voice that makes me want to squeeze my legs together really tight. I don’t understand what is going on with my body, maybe I’m coming down with something.

  “Hi, I’m Savannah,” I respond shyly looking up at him from behind my lashes. I’m utterly scandalized when his big hands grip my hips and we dance together. I finally relax about twenty seconds into the song, letting the music roll over me. His hands roam over my back and hips, eliciting tiny body shivers every so often.

  “Come home with me,” I hear him whisper in my ear, his hot puff of air causing me to tremble. I’m about to respond to him when I hear, “There you are,” and notice a woman and she’s got her hands on Reid. I can’t explain why I immediately get a pissed off feeling when I see her hands on his arm. I want to rip it off and stake my claim, but then I shake my head at myself. What am I thinking? I mean really. I watch as the two of them take off, her intent clear. I suppress the jealousy I feel and shrug my shoulders. I’ve got to do this on my timetable, not his, and certainly not Lacey’s, whether she likes it or not.

  I feel like I can breathe a bit easier with him out of the room, surprised at how much effect he had on me. Never, in all my years has anyone sparked the remotest interest in me, until tonight. I also feel a pinch of jealousy that he took off with that woman, and then I mentally smack myself for thinking like this because I have no right to be jealous of whoever he’d like to hang out with.

  Lacey comes back carrying two drinks and has a big grin on her face, “Hey girl,” she says, “you forgive me yet?” I smile at her and nod. I can’t stay mad at her, she’s my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

  “I saw you dancing with that hottie,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. I blush and shrug my shoulders. “I gave him your number,” she says while watching my face for my reaction.

  “Lace,” I shout, “you can’t just give my phone number to anybody, and you don’t even know if he’s a nice guy.” She shakes her head at me.

  “You’re so naïve, you need to put yourself out there a little.” Ugh I’m pissed, but then when I think about it, he seemed pretty into that woman, so what are the chances he’ll do anything with my cell number? I shrug it off. I’m not going to worry about something that may not even happen. Lacey can see that I’ve let it go, and that’s when she dumps the big surprise on me.

  “See that guy hanging by the bar? His brother wants to go out with you, so I said you’d meet for coffee tomorrow at 2,” she finishes while beaming me.

  I look at her in alarm, “Lacey,” I say, “you shouldn’t have done that. I don’t even know this guy, and I may not even like him,” I finish lamely.

  She grabs my hand, “Listen,” she says calmly, “It’s just coffee, and nothing major. Don’t make more of it than it is,” she says patting my hand.

  I sigh loudly, annoyed with her, but silently agreeing with her. I’d never admit that to her in a million years. She’d gloat forever and I’d never hear the end of it. It is just coffee, and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll have only lost an hour of my life.

  I nod at Lacey and watch her smile stretch across her face, hopeful that this isn’t going to be one of those times that I fall for one of her schemes that go awry. It wouldn’t be the first time that she’s gotten me into a pinch, and I always threaten that I’ll never speak with her again, but usually forgive her quickly.

  She’s lucky I love her, after all it’s just a coffee date and what could possibly go wrong?

  “Harder, oh my God, fuck me, yes, yes, yes yes.” Fuck me, but I hate screamers, constantly shrilling in my ear and begging for more. Thank fuck I don’t do repeats, but this woman, she won’t even have a slot in my little black book. I’m losing her number, and I can’t do it fast enough. I’m surprised I’m still hard, that’s how much she is grating on my nerves, but I need the release, badly. I can’t get Savannah out of my head, and I’ve been walking around harder than a fence post since. All of this is running through my head, while I’m pounding the shit out of this woman.

  I’ve got Kristy up against the wall, and I’m fucking her like there’s no tomorrow. I need to hurry this along, but I never let the women I’m with leave without reaching their own peak. I grab her ass to change the angle, and I’ve hit the jackpot judging by her screams. My piercings scrape along her insides and she comes hard, milking my dick for all it’s worth. I tune her out as I pound into her, stroke after stroke, until I shoot hot cum into the condom. I’m breathing harshly as I let her down off the wall, and tie off the condom, throwing it into the trash. I barely look at her when I say, “Thanks, but I’ve got things to do, so you’ll need to leave.” I watch her face go from confusion to anger in a split second, “We went over this, and you said you understood there were no expectations,” I remind her hotly. “This was just sex, not the beginning a relationship.” Her face turns red face and I wait to hear what name I’ll get this time, “You’re an asshole”, she spits out. I laugh at her, and nod my head. Yup, that’s me lady. Grade one asshole, now leave. She pulls her dress down, angrily grabs her purse and slams the door behind her when she leaves, the glass rattling in her wake.

  I hadn’t even brought her home, instead bringing her to the conference room at King Securities. The walls are soundproof, not that my brothers don’t know exactly what’s happening. They also know I’m either fucking them at a bar or here at work, never bringing them to my home. That’s my place to unwind. That and I don’t want them to know where I live. I’m not typically a dick to the women I hook up with, clearly discussing my perspective to avoid conflict. Most of the women are just like me, and need a release without any attachments. They aren’t looking for hearts and flowers. Thank God, because I don’t have it in me to give romance.

  I choose women who understand my needs, and have no expectations of a relationship. Every so often a woman says she understands, but then her actions are a big red flag waving a signal in the air. Those are the women that think they’re going to be the one to change you, to get you to commit, or surrender. When reality slaps them in the face it’s almost difficult for me not to smile at the look of utter rage that crosses their faces when they realize that I don’t give in or yield, to anyone. I even have a tattoo in Latin that says “Me concedere eorum nemini”, or “I yield to no one.” I will never again put mysel
f in a position to be used or victimized, ever again. Yes, I understand that I was a child, and that was out of my control, but I’m not a child anymore. My other tattoo is “numquam solus”, or “never alone”, which represents the fact that I always have my brothers and my family at my back, surrounding me in their love and support and for that I’ll be forever grateful.

  It’s only been about five minutes since I’ve come and I can feel my dick stirring again as I think of Savannah. Fuck it, I may as well text her. I was so happy when her friend gave me her number with the instruction to “go easy on her, she’s a newbie” and a pat on my chest. I have no idea what her friend is referring to when she says she’s a newbie. I pull out my phone and start typing, then I erase, type again and start all over again with the following:

  Me: Hi

  Yeah, I know. Smooth right? I snort at myself and put my phone away before I go any further without making an ass out of myself. This has never happened to me before. Women usually throw themselves at me, and I rarely, if ever have to put in any work so this is really throwing me off my game.

  I head down the hall to my office, passing Deacon and Carter. They are both on their phones holding animated conversations. Deacon looks pissed and I wonder if it’s one of our clients, and sincerely hope not. I’m exhausted, and sit behind my desk, staring at the mound of files in my in-basket.

  Our business is booming, which is great, but we’re behind with hiring. Our receptionist/HR, April Hollingsworth is doing all the interviews, and they are going well, just slow. In the meantime, I just need to buckle down and tackle what’s in front of me.

 

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