Rosie Labrun is a lot of things: a college student on the cusp of graduation; an intern for the Portland Pirates, a romance novel connoisseur; and the most recent addition to her resume...the girlfriend of a professional athlete.
She won't let it d...
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"Ow." Rosie exclaims, immediately putting her hand on her head when she accident bumps it on the roof of my truck.
I guess in hindsight, trying to make love in the truck when you're six-foot-five and have a girlfriend that's five-foot-seven (or eight, as she claims), presents its challenges. But a far more difficult challenge - one that I'm not sure I could handle, is her being wet and me not doing anything about it.
Call me crazy, but I think as her boyfriend, it's my job to satisfy her. Also, her getting wet because she's been thinking about me at work (involuntarily), is probably the hottest thing in the world.
Right next to a thousand-degree oven and her when she's grinding against my dick in bed. Or that one time (which I will remember even on my death bed), when she brought my hand between her thighs in bed. That shit was really fucking hot.
Anyway, back to the point. The point being that my dick is about as stiff as a piece of iron rod that you hand curtains on and her moving - in whatever light or breezy ways she may, against it; or sitting on it, as she was a few moments ago, is both heaven and hell.
Because on one hand, I really just want to get a condom and get inside her; but on the other hand, I have to remember that as my girlfriend and the love of my life, I have to make her orgasm first.
Yes, because even during sex, I believe the woman should come first. Especially during sex. That's also how you get women to want to have sex with you again - by actually caring about their needs and getting them off. Granted, it's a little different when you're with someone you love versus a random hookup, but it's still the same principal at work.
Make a girl cum (not fake cum) = make her want to have sex with you again - because I would say the majority of guys talk a big game but when it gets down to the last quarter, or I guess the first one, all they give a shit about is getting their rocks off.
Which, kind of like investing with an overly ambitious stock advisor that just came out of school, seems enticing but won't help you in the long run. It'll also usually come with many fees, because well, not that many women are looking to just have casual sex.
Sure, as a professional athlete, I had more options to choose from. But those come with costs of their own - mainly, girls taking Snapchat selfies when I'm sleeping beside them, then sharing them online. Yeah, that's happened a few times.
"Are you okay?" I ask Rosie, reacting right away. She plops down on me - probably from frustration of accidently injuring herself, which causes both of us to look towards my groin.
And Rosie, to let a sound escape her lips that's a mixture of a moan and excitement. Like this is the first time she's ever ridden me, and she's about to take full advantage. Or maybe like this is the first time she's getting into a bumper car and is thrilled at the prospect of smashing into other people.
A low groan comes from me, along with some pre-cum which we won't talk about. Fuck, she's so fucking beautiful. I feel like my dick is about to explode. "I'll be fine." She answers, though she seems more distracted now by the friction between us than her head.
Wanting to make a point to show her I care - and actually caring about her, probably more than I care about myself, I bring my mouth to the side of her head where a small goose egg is forming and kiss it. I don't consider where my mouth will go next until it's already there; and seeing as how much traffic there is, plus travel time, I decide to explore the local area.
And by the local area, I mean her face, then neck.
She's wearing this button-up oxford shirt (I think that's what it's called) and my fingers are already pulling at the buttons, wanting them to fall off faster than my pants and hers. "Jesus." I mutter, something rather unholy coming to mind when I see what's under her shirt.
And no, I don't just mean her tits.
"What?" She draws her eyebrows together, looking down as if she's not seeing what I do.
Lace.
"Is that new?" I ask, barely able to rip my eyes off the light purple torture device (or bra), that she's wearing. I think it's a bra, it looks like a bra. It seems a little lighter than normal ones without those uncomfortable rings underneath.
She looks down, now making it acceptable for me to stare at her tits, since she's looking at them as well. "Oh, no. I've had it for a while. I got it from Urban Planet." She begins explaining, talking about where she got is, how it was on sale, how long the lineup was.
And usually, I'm all for hearing her talk. But right now, I really just want my tongue in her mouth and my dick inside her. "It's cute." I tell her with a dopey smile on my face before dropping one of the straps off her shoulder. My mouth quickly fills the space where it once was; and she moves her fingers to my shoulders; maybe trying to stabilize herself and show me how good it feels.
Whether on purpose or because she's trying to torture me - or both, she rocks her hips, and my dick practically explodes. "Fuck, baby." I groan, losing my own ability to think straight as soon as it comes to getting inside her. All I know is that her flesh is my flesh; and nothing feels better than feeling my dick being squeezed my her.
She seems to enjoy the sensation as well, not responding and instead rubbing herself against me, once more. This feels kind of like that scene from Ginny & Georgia (Rosie made me watch it with her), where Marcus and Ginny are having sex for the second time (both of our favorite parts) and she's basically dry humping on him.
That's what this feels like. Fabric rubbing against friction rubbing against parts of our bodies that we both need explored. And I, not being able to wait any longer - and taking full advantage of women's fake dress pants, slip my hand underneath the waist band of hers.
Her breath hitches from the contact; and I turn my attention from kissing her every cell of skin to looking at her. "Jesus." I groan, lacking any other word in my vocabulary when I feel the dampness of her underwear. She said she was thinking about me at work; I didn't realize exactly how much, or how in-dept, that thinking was. "Fuck baby, you're so wet."
Usually, she laughs anytime I say something remotely sexy or that could be the fill-in dialogue of a sex scene. But this time, she just bites her lip and stares at me; then me, sliding my hand underneath her underwear - a thong, and putting some pressure against her clit.
She lets out a whine - one so quiet, that if I weren't paying attention or were in a crowded bar, someone might miss. Thankfully, I would never waste the sounds and motions of making love in a bathroom stinking of beer. Nor would I ever be able to have sex in a stall without people being able to see the top of my head.
Also, I like to take my time (when I can); and being cramped in a tight space around a bunch of strangers might seem exciting when hearing about it from your friends, is really not as enticing as you may think.
"Erik." Rosie whines, growing impatient with my teasing and taunting of her. I know what she wants; we both know I know what she wants - hence her irritation. And spoiler alert: it's not my dick (though I'm sure she's going to enjoy that); no, it's my fingers. My fingers inside her.
