Needy Nia

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#8 Even gentlemen aren’t what they seem

Xavier has been texting me all day long, and even though I’m not replying, I still read every single one of his messages. I told him last week that I’m not up for more booty calls, feeling like that wouldn’t be fair to Randy, but apparently Xavier can’t take a hint. The last time I texted him back was to let him know my STD test came back negative, and I plan to leave it at that. I’m focused on Randy right now.

Mom insisted I should bring a bottle of wine to my date, and although I tried to tell her that I’m not forty and this is a casual date, not me meeting his parents, she wouldn’t budge. So here I am, holding the only expensive bottle of red wine my dad could find in the liquor cabinet.

“Hey,” Randy says when he lets me in, kissing me on the cheek. “Oh, you bright wine. That’s so sweet. You didn’t need to bring anything, Nia.”

I smile. “Courtesy of my parents. Apparently, it’s rude to show up empty-handed.”

“You? Rude?” Randy grins, his dark eyes sparkling. “You’re a lot of things, but you’re not rude, Nia.”

“A lot of things, huh?” I tease, following him into his living room, looking around at what is obviously a bachelor pad. “Enlighten me. What am I?”

“Beautiful,” Randy replies right away, reaching out to brush my hair out of my face, his fingers lingering on the side on my face. “Radiant. Feminine. Sweet.”

I know those are nice compliments, but my stomach tightens with tension. Aside from sweet, those are not character traits. That’s just about my body. It’s nice that he likes the way I look, but does he actually like me?

Those thoughts are pushed from my mind when his lips find mine, and his big hands pull me against his body as he slips his tongue into my mouth. The guy can kiss, that much is obvious.

“You’re so sexy,” he groans into my ear, moving on to trail kisses across my neck, my collar bone, and back up to my mouth, devouring me.

“Hmm,” I moan, pulling him closer. We haven’t kissed like this since we met in the club. He’s been such a gentleman on all our dates, and I guess I was missing a bit of heat. There is heat now, though, definitely.

After a while, Randy pulls back and straightens my shirt, giving me one last peck on the lips before offering me something to drink. “I’ve got wine,” he says with a small smile, motioning at the bottle I brought.

“What are we having for dinner?” I ask curiously, following him into the kitchen. “It smells great.”

“Chicken parmesan,” he says, lifting the lid of the skillet.

“Nice,” I comment, inhaling the scent of his cooking. “You can kiss, you can cook, what other talents do you have, Randy?” I didn’t mean for it to sound flirty, but that’s the way the words come out anyway, and he smirks a little.

“Maybe you’ll find out after dinner,” he says, winking at me.

Ah. So I guess I was right to assume that dinner at his place means he wants this night to end in the bedroom. I’m not complaining. Ever since my first time in high school, I’ve never spent this much time with a guy without having sex with him. He’s attractive, I like him, and I’m more than curious to see if we’re compatible in the bedroom.

Let’s get this show on the road.

Dinner is lovely, and the conversation flows, as does the wine. Two hours later, after dessert, we’re making out on the couch, his hands finally roaming over my body, and I straddle him, grinding against him needily. He’s hard and big, and his groans are so fucking hot.

“Bedroom?” he asks, squeezing my ass while I kiss his neck.

“Yes,” I say right away, eager to see what he’s packing in those jeans of his.

I expected him to move slow and careful, but instead he picks me up and carries me into his bedroom, throwing me down onto the matrass with a growl. He undresses without taking his eyes off me, and I prop myself up on my elbows to take in his naked body. He’s indeed got a six pack, and bulging abs, and a cock that must be at least eight inches.

Holy fuck.

Randy smirks at the way I’m staring at him, and he grabs my legs, pulling me to the edge so he can take off my jeans. My thong comes off as well, and before I can even sit up on the bed to take off my top, he’s already moving between my legs, his cock in his hand, ready to push in.

“Hey,” I rush out, surprised. “Not so fast. And not without a condom.”

“Right,” he says, moving to the nightstand to take out a gold foil package. When he rips it open and puts it on, I realize I’m not going to get any foreplay. Jesus fucking Christ, even gentlemen apparently don’t do anything but push in and fuck, do they?

For the first time in years, I consider speaking up about it. I’m not some girl he took home from the club. We’ve been dating for weeks now. He cooked for me. I told him about my family. But then he’s already on top of me, pushing open my legs and lining up with my entrance, and I decide to leave it be. It’s not that big of a deal, right?

He enters me slowly, giving me time to get used to his size, kissing me hard while he keeps still, feeling my pussy struggle to accommodate him. I’m wet, but not enough for a cock this big. I groan when he starts moving, since he’s hurting me a little.

“Okay?” Randy asks, sensing my discomfort.

“You’re moving a little fast,” I say honestly, squeezing my eyes shut.

He slows down his pace, not getting that I don’t just mean that he needs to slow down his thrusts.

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, having a hard time not pounding me as hard as he’d like to.

“Stop,” I say, feeling horrible, pushing against his chest. “I’m sorry, I need a moment.”

Randy pulls out, looking confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

I shake my head. “No, I just… I’m not there yet. Can we just… kiss for a bit? Touch? Before you enter me again?”

“Oh, okay,” he says, sounding incredulous now. “Sure.”

He lies down next to me and pulls me against him, kissing me softly. It takes a while before I can relax, feeling weird and on edge from the whole thing. I think I just expected more from Randy. Part of me is proud for not just lying there and waiting until it’s over – which is what I usually do, if I’m honest.

Randy takes off my top and bra, kissing my breasts as his hand moves down my body slowly until his fingers find my clit, rubbing it gently. That’s more like it. I wrap my hand around his cock and jerk him off while he pleasures me. He’s firm but gentle, and it doesn’t take long before I’m getting closer and closer to the edge, moaning with every move of his fingers.

“So sexy,” Randy growls, flicking his tongue over my nipple. “My good girl.”

I moan again, arching my back as he picks up the pace. I’m so close I can almost taste my release.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers into my ear, circling my clit with his thumb. “You like it when I call you that, don’t you? Will you be a good girl for me, Nia? Will you let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” I moan, getting even hotter from his words.

“Come for me first,” he orders hoarsely. “Let me hear you moan my name.”

I shudder and with a flick of his deft dingers, I’m pushed over the edge, coming hard and fast. The start to all of this may not have been great, but he’s sure trying now. As I come down from my orgasm, he keeps kissing and teasing me, pleasure building up in me again until he makes me come a second time, whispering dirty words in my ear the whole time.

Now can I fuck you?” he grunts, already rolling on top of me.

“Yes,” I moan, feeling like my body melted into a puddle.

He pushes in, and this time it doesn’t hurt. I’m ready for him now. My legs go around his waist as he fills me up, and I moan at the way he pounds me. It’s so hot to hear him grunt my name, and while I don’t come again – I hardly ever do from penetration – it’s pretty damn good to feel this wanted. He lasts pretty long too, and even flips us over at one point to slam me down on him while he watches me ride him. I hate being on top, since I always feel like my breasts should be bouncing, and they’re just not big enough for that, so I ask him if I can be on the bottom again. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to care what position we’re in as long as he gets to come. And he does, with a feral grunt while he buries himself deem inside of me, filling up the condom.

Afterwards, we cuddle for a while, but then he sits up and yawns. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” he says, taking me off guard. “I hate to do this, but…”

Is he seriously kicking me out? I was expecting to stay over after this, or at least get more than twenty minutes of cuddling after sex before being asked to leave. Then again, I know he works hard and goes to the gym every morning before starting work at eight, so I get that he’s tired. He cooked for me, listened to me, made me laugh, and gave me two orgasms. I’ve had nights way worse than this with guys way less hot and sweet than Randy. I don’t have any reason to complain.

Five minutes later, I’m back in my car, and even though I keep telling myself I’m being ridiculous, I feel a little… dirty, I guess. I’m used to driving home this time of night after one-night stands or booty calls, but Randy is neither of those. I was all cozy in his bed, my slim body fitting perfectly against his big manly one, and I would have loved falling asleep with him.

Maybe next time.

***

Aimee met someone. Apparently, he’s a professional hockey player who’s tired of sleeping with puck bunnies, and he’s ready to settle down. Considering the fact that she slept with him the first night they met, and that she keeps getting dick pics from him, I doubt that he’s serious about the settling down part, but who am I to judge? Aimee seems to like him, he sends her flowers at works, and judging from the pictures she showed me, he’s gorgeous and very well-endowed.

Yeah, Aimee showed me the dick pics. She’s my best friend – I’ve seen every single dick pic she’s ever gotten since she lost her virginity at 15. Even before that, when the guy who wanted to swipe her V-card at 14 thought that it was a good idea to text her a pic like that. I remember giggling so loud about it that her mother came into Aimee’s bedroom to ask us what was so funny. We hid her phone and told some lame-ass story about something that happened in Biology.

Oh, to be that young and stupid again. Then again… I’m only 22. And I feel pretty fucking stupid most days, so not much has changed, I guess.

“We should double date,” Aimee says excitedly as I sit down between her and Ayaan on the couch while Holly sits on the floor across from us, her tongue between her teeth as she paints her toenails a cute shade of pink.

“Who?” I ask, sipping my beer.

“Me, Justin, you, and Randy,” Aimee says, smiling when she says the name of her hockey hunk.

“Randy and I are just getting to know each other,” I remind her for the millionth time. “We’ve only been hanging out a few weeks, and only slept together twice.” The second time was better than the first time, since he took his sweet time getting me off before pushing in, but again he asked me to leave. This time he didn’t even wait more than five minutes. I’m starting to think he might not be in it for more than the sex anymore. We started off all sweet, with dates and shit, but last night all we did was eat a pizza and fuck, and then I was back off to my parents’ house.

“Come on,” Aimee pleads. “Holly and Ayaan are not going to settle down anytime soon, and we’ve never been dating at the same time. Justin is all up in my grill about meeting my friends, and I don’t want to jump three girls on him at once.”

“Why not?” Ayaan asks, batting her lashes. “We’re harmless.”

“Please, bitch, you’re brutal.” I roll my eyes at her with a smile. Ayaan grills boyfriends in a way no one else can. Wouldn’t be the first time she scared off a guy who had the wrong intentions. Ayaan doesn’t do monogamy herself, doesn’t even belief in it, so she’s always suspicious when one of us finds someone who seems to be serious about us. Not that I’ve had a boyfriend since high school. Aimee finds a guy from time to time, but it never lasts long. I doubt Justin will be any different.

“Please?” Aimee asks me again. “I already met two of Justin’s friends, he just wants to know more about my life, and I am nowhere near ready to introduce him to my mother. You and Randy are my safest bet to not scare him off.”

“We would never scare him off,” Holly says, grinning as she looks up from her toenails. “Pinkie promise.”

“I’ll ask Randy,” I say when Aimee keeps looking at me with her big blue eyes. Honestly, it would be nice to get my best friend’s take on Randy, because I’m not sure where we’re at right now and if this is going to go any further, or if I moved from girlfriend material into the booty call zone again. That would suck, of course, especially since I like this guy, and I truly tried to show him more of myself than I’ve done with all the guys I’ve met since high school.

Like he can sense me thinking about him, my phone buzzes, and I smile when I read his text, telling me he misses me.

Can I convince you to come by?

I hesitate. It’s after dinner, which means that saying yes might push me further into booty call territory and further away from becoming more to him.

No early day tomorrow, he shoots before I can make a decision. I got your favorite wine and that guacamole dip you like. Let me make up for being so busy with work all week.

That’s pretty sweet, actually. He’s inviting me to spend the night with him. Might as well see where this might take us, right? I tell him I’ll be there in an hour and spend the next thirty minutes getting ready with some help from the girls. I swing by the house to grab a toothbrush and a clean set of clothes before I go over to Randy’s place.

He opens the door before I even have a chance to ring the doorbell and pulls me into the hallway, kissing me hungrily.

Well… hello, Randy.

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