Twisted Thomas

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#43 Everything is different with you

Tracy

Thomas takes his time undressing me, kissing and touching every part of me before taking off the next piece of clothing. By the time I’m down to nothing but my panties, I’m strung so tightly with need that I moan from the slightest touch, feeling like I might come without him so much as getting near my pussy.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs against my neck while he hooks his fingers around the elastic waist of my panties, pulling them down. “You smell so good.”

“I didn’t even shower when I got home,” I reply with a small giggle, kicking my panties off my ankles while I tug at his shirt. “Let’s get you naked now.”

“No,” he says, smirking. “For two weeks now, you’ve been driving me crazy without even taking your clothes off. I think it’s time to turn the tables. Let’s see how many times I can get you off while I’m still fully dresses. I’m thinking… five.”

“Five?” I gasp when his fingers finally find my clit and one of them slides right into me. Damn, that feels good. “Thomas, you know I don’t come easily.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he assures me, lying down next to me and watching my face while his fingers keep working on me. “If I cramp up, we’ve got a nightstand full of toys to help us out, and there’s always porn. But I have a feeling we’re not going to need that tonight.”

“I’m sorry that I-”

Thomas pulls his finger out of me and pulls me against him, kissing me tenderly. “I’ll get back to getting you off in a minute. First, tell me while you always apologize for not falling apart within a few seconds.”

Oh God. I thought this was going to be us getting lost in each other’s bodies, but he’s asking me to spill my guts. It’s a good question, though, and I want him to know me the way no one has before, so I press my face into his shirt, inhaling deeply to soak up his heady, male scent, letting it infuse me with the strength I need.

“I’m not an easy person,” I say softly, not looking at his face. “I know I’ve got so much baggage that it’s almost too much for one person to carry, and I don’t really deal with it – well, until now, that is. Being with me… it’s not easy. It takes someone really patient to deal with my ass, and sex is supposed to bring people together, to feel connected, you know, but I make sex into a chore by being so goddamn difficult.”

“A chore?” Thomas echoes, sounding incredulous. “Having you naked in bed with me doesn’t even resemble anything close to a chore, baby. Did…” He pauses, but then decides to go on. “Maybe I’m stupid for bringing him up, but did Michel… Tell me if I need to shut up, okay, but I want to make sure I understand you and everything you’ve been through. Did Michel make you feel like it was a chore to get you off?”

I’m not in the mood anymore, and I pull away from him for a moment, slipping underneath the covers and pulling them up to my chin. Thomas stays on top of the covers and hugs me, rubbing my back, trying to keep close to me while giving me space at the same time. He’s so fucking perfect.

“You saw what he’s like in bed,” I say quietly, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. “Commanding, taking control, calling me names… I liked that, to be honest, it got me off most times, but… at the end of our relationship, when things were more fucked-up then ever, he told me that he would prefer me to just be a normal girl, and for us to be able to have regular sex without all the dirty talk and sex toys and porn, and for me to get off from, you know, normal sex.”

Thomas doesn’t say anything, he just waits for me to go on, sensing I’ve got more to get off my chest.

“I think I always sort of sensed that he resented how difficult I am,” I whisper. “I don’t blame him, either. He was with me for years, and I was shut down emotionally, so all he got was my good days where I was all flirty banter and hot sex, so if sex started feeling like chore for him… It was all I allowed to have with me for a long time, so if even that wasn’t good for him…”

“Didn’t you have sex with him every single day after he moved in with you?” Thomas asks, frowning.

“Yeah,” I confirm, feeling a little weird talking to him about this. “Every day, sometimes more than once. I didn’t always get off, though. It wasn’t even remotely good anymore the last two months or so.”

“Because it felt like a chore to you,” Thomas realizes, understanding flashing in his eyes. “And now you’re scared that because you’re a little more difficult than most girls, I will start to resent you for it as well, and that things will get as bad as they were with Michel.”

“Maybe,” I reply, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. “I know that’s stupid, because we fucked for six months, at least three times a week, and it was good. Like, crazy good. And you don’t mind my… erm… preferences.”

He laughs. “I think it’s hot as fuck that I found a girl who watches more porn than I do. It’s sexy. Every single thing about you is sexy, from your cute little toes to your soft, pretty hair.” He kisses me softly and pulls me a little closer, nuzzling his face against my neck. “Can I ask some more questions, or is this too hard for you to talk about?”

“It’s hard, but ask me anyway,” I decide, determined to not revert back to the old me who tried to fuck away all her problems and feelings. It sucks that I managed to turn what was supposed to be our first time having sex since we got together into a talk about my ex, but Thomas truly doesn’t look like he minds. In fact, there is so much love and fondness in his gaze that it warms me on the inside.

“You’re very… vocal about what you like,” he says, smiling a little. “And I love that about you, just to be clear. You know what you like, and with me, you don’t seem scared to ask for it. You let me take control, but you grab back the reigns when you feel like it, and it all just seemed pretty natural for us from the start, right? How can it be like that for you, when your experiences with sex haven’t been all that great?”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” I assure him, pulling my fingers through his hair. “I like sex. Always have. I haven’t been with many guys – five, to be precise, including you – but it was good with all of them, even though the first three never got me off. I think sex is about more than getting off. I think for a long time, it was the only time when I let myself feel anything. It’s impossible not to feel close to someone when you’ve got someone literally inside of you. And…” I take a deep breath, ready to voice something I’ve only ever told my therapist. “Having people close to me is scary, and sex used to be the only time when I let myself feel close to someone else. You can connect to someone when you’re sleeping together, without having to talk about your feelings, and that was perfect for me. No one is going to ask you during sex to talk about your deceased parents or anything else that I didn’t want to talk about. I don’t usually allow people to see me vulnerable, you know that.”

“You allow me to see you like that.” He wipes away a stray tear that was slowly making its way down my face.

“It took me a year and a half, Thom,” I say with a small smile.

“Nah, it didn’t,” he argues. “I could see this side of you in your eyes that first night we slept together, on our first date.”

“Are you serious?” I study his expression and realize that he is. “You knew this was always there, underneath the cool ice queen exterior?”

He nods and kisses me softly, his hand knotting my hair. “I knew from the start there were two sides to you, and I’ve always loved both sides equally. The soft, sweet emotional side, and the crazy, dark, twisted side.”

Oh God, I’m full-on crying now. “You never pushed me,” I sniffle. “Everyone one else always pushes me. Michel pushed me really fucking hard, even though he meant well. Why don’t you ever push me for more?”

“More?” Thomas asks, smiling widely now. “Tracy, you’re my girlfriend, you’re naked in bed with me, and I am allowed to hold you while you cry. What more could I possibly want?”

“Before, I mean,” I insist. “You told me you loved me that night we were supposed to have another threesome with Michel, and we left things a mess, but you didn’t show up at my place after, you didn’t pressure me to keep seeing you, you didn’t show up at my place of work or blow up my phone like a stalker or anything. Michel would have. And when we became friends again, you were okay with that, not asking me to bare my soul to you. Even after I broke up with Michel, you waited for me, and while you did ask me to talk about things, you didn’t pressure me when I told you I didn’t want to talk yet. Michel definitely would have.”

Thomas gives a knowing look. “And who is in here with you now, Tracy, holding you while you cry? Listening to you talking about things you never would have opened up about a year ago? That’s me, isn’t it? Not him. Pushing someone to do something they’re not ready for only ends up in heartbreak, so why the fuck would I do that?”

“You’re so perfect,” I sigh, pulling the blankets up so he can slip under them with me. I push up his shirt so I can feel his warm skin underneath my fingers. “Did you mean what you said before? On the phone? About the barn?” It’s been on my mind all day long, and the thought isn’t nearly as scary as I thought it would be.

“I don’t want to move too fast, mostly because I don’t want to freak you out,” he murmurs, gazing into my eyes while he trails his fingers down my back, cupping my ass and squeezing. “All I know is that I love you, and thinking about moving in with you one day and looking for a place to call our own, with pigs and dogs and all that… It makes me happy.”

“Me too. I’ve never felt like that before.”

“Not even with Michel?” Thomas asks softly, his fingers digging into my skin a little.

“Only with you. Everything is different with you.” I tug at his shirt and he complies, pulling it off before lying back down. “I love this tattoo,” I murmur, touching the crown on his lower abdomen. “Do you tattoos have meaning?”

He shivers from my touch. “Nah, I just like the way they look. The crown was a joke, really, I got it when I was drunk, but it’s one of my favorites. I got the snake just below my neck because Dylan designed it and he was too fucking scared to get it himself, and I loved the way it looked. Dylan drew most of my tattoos, actually. I’m gonna get a new one soon.”

“Where?” I ask, pulling back to look at his chest. “Not much room left.”

He shows me his arm, the one that doesn’t have a full sleeve yet. “Dylan was doodling the other day, and there was this one doodle of a cartoon cat, and I want it right here.” He taps his bicep.

“You’re gonna put a random cartoon cat on your arm?” I ask, laughing. “Oh God, I love you so fucking much, Thom. I think God must have been in a really good mood when he created you.”

He smirks. “You know it, baby. Seriously, though, I just love tats and piercings, always have. Charlie, my younger brother, only has one – a black circle on his chest.” He points at the circle on his own body. “Same as I have. It was the first and only one he got, and my tenth or something. It’s the one that means to most to me. Unbreakable brotherly bond and all that. I think that if I ever get married or have kids, I will want to add something like this, maybe tattoo a ring on my finger instead of getting a golden band. Seems more me, you know.”

“I like that.” I interlace our fingers. “I’m gonna need a ring, though.”

His eyes widen. “You want to get married? I didn’t peg you for the poofy dress type.”

I laugh at that, trying to imagine myself in a white dress like the one Annabel was wearing. “That’s so not me,” I tell Thomas, grinning. “I never dreamed of walking down the aisle as a little girl, and I think I’d burst into flames if I tried to get married in a church. I also think big surprise proposals are stupid. I think when you love someone and want to be with them, you should just have a serious conversation about what you want, and make the conscious decision to get hitched. Pick out rings together, and go to the courthouse to sign the paperwork. I want a husband and a marriage, but I don’t give a shit about a wedding.”

“So if I want to marry you one day, I should just ask you if you’re up for that over dinner or something?” Thomas asks, grinning. “No getting on one knee, no buying an engagement ring?”

“I mean, you can if you want to,” I shrug. “If you’d want the whole shebang, I’d do it, but I don’t need all that sappy shit. I do need the big barn with the animals, though. And you. I mostly just need you.”

“You need me,” Thomas repeats, sounding like he can’t believe I said that out loud. I can hardly believe it myself. “I never thought I’d hear you say that, baby.”

We kiss again, and I’m starting to get in the mood again, unzipping his pants.

“This is nice,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over my skin, making me shiver. “Talking like this about the future. It’s really nice.”

“I agree,” I grunt, yanking at his pants. “Do you know what’s also nice? Sex.”

He smirks. “Sex with me is more than just nice, babe.”

“Prove it,” I challenge him, rubbing his erection through his boxershorts. “You did promise me five orgasms, after all. Let’s see if you’re up for the challenge, you cocky bastard.”

“Oh, you know I am,” he grunts, kicking off the last of his clothes. “You’ll see.”

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