“So, how was it?” Katy asked me as I tried to glide into the kitchen to get a glass of water, wearing nothing but Dan’s shirt.
“Um…” I thought about it really hard. Should I downplay it, build it up or just be honest? “Fucking great!” I laughed.
She smiled. Took another swig of a beer. “Want one?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said.
She hopped down off of the counter, which was apparently her most comfortable spot, and grabbed me one out of the fridge. She twisted off the cap with ease and handed it to me, smiling again.
I felt off balance a little, as if she was the somewhat scolding mother, or the shoulder to cry on, and I was the young troubled twenty-something.
“Let me guess,” she asked. “Divorced. Recently. Trying to find out what she wants to do with the rest of her life?”
“Something like that,” I said, with my eyes diverted to the ground. “Exactly like that, actually.”
“I figured,” she said. “I’m not judging you, please don’t misunderstand. It’s just a pattern. With him.”
I felt again like she had this conversation with several if not handfuls of women like me. I realized what I was, just a toy for him to play with. I was more or less OK with it, but the see-saw of who was using whom seemed to tip forever in his favor no matter how much I tried to play it up that I was the huntress and he the prey.
“I do think it’s odd why he doesn’t go for women more…your age,” I said.
“So do I, hon,” she said. “But it’s obvious why.”
“Really?” I asked bemused.
“Yeah,” she answered, “it’s so he doesn’t have to commit. He knows he won’t fall in love.”
“Hmm, makes sense. How’d you get so smart?” I retorted.
“I’m studying psychology, of course!” she laughed.
“Of course,” I chuckled. And why do you care?” I asked.
She got really quiet. Apparently the “joke” had gone too far for her comfort. She just frowned a little and said “I don’t know.” Lifting her eyes, she brightened and said again “Really, I don’t know why I care…but I do.”
I figured it out. It was really easy. And you didn’t need to be a psych major to figure it out.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” I asked.
“How can you tell?” she sighed.
I didn’t say anything. I just smiled sympathetically. “Another beer, perhaps?”
“Sure,” she said.
We joined one another on the couch. “Let’s watch a movie,” she said.
We found a Marilyn Monroe film, The Seven Year Itch. I always loved that one. Provocative yet cutesy. Nothing like that made nowadays.
She put her feet on my lap and I massaged them.
“All day and night on my feet,” she groaned.
“Yeah, I bet…” I said.
We snuggled on the couch like old friends and before long she fell asleep. Thinking back to what I had said about Dan, about the sex being “Great”, to be honest, it really wasn’t that great. I had better. He had a huge cock but there was something missing, and I supposed it was that intimacy factor that was lacking between he and his older-women girl…fuck friends. Hopefully, though, it was going to improve with familiarity the way the first time sex with someone usually sucks. Sometimes, however, it’s so good it never can be duplicated.
I heard Dan come down the stairs and he saw us on the couch. I smiled at him.
“Come back to bed,” he said, with a slow drag on the word bed.
“What about her?” I asked.
“I’ll take care of it. Happens all the time,” he said.
He was a strong guy so he was able to pick her up and carry her to her room.
What a sweet guy I thought. He did have some heart. I had to admit it.
“Just go in and I’ll join you,” he said. I guess he put her in bed and tucked her in. It was right there in front of him and he didn’t know it.
He came back into the room without turning on a light he found me laying there naked and ready. I could feel his breath and his body on me, kissing, stroking, bending and stretching my body in the darkness. He penetrated my moist pussy with his cock and buried it deeply. He called me beautiful in the dark, we moaned in the dark, sweat dripped from our bodies in the dark – he erupted inside me in the dark and we both lay spent in the dark.
The physicality aside – really enjoyable sex, there was a distant between us, he, or I, or both of us. Perhaps I just understood it all too well. This was just sex, nothing more. I could easily be replaced by next week if not sooner. Besides, all I could think of was the poor girl in the next room.
I began to think maybe she was the reason I was here. She was so in love with him and he was really rather decent to her but for some reason they were just friends. Perhaps that was for the best? Or… maybe I could bring them together?
Miss part 1? Read it here.