“Not one of my cute outfits. I should probably be wearing one of your T-shirts when this happens. And maybe some shorts I don’t give a shit about.”
Even in her fantasies, clothing was sacred. I chuckled. “Okay. I rip my shirt and your shorts off you. You’re not wearing a bra or panties, so you’re left standing there naked in front of everyone.”
She sucked in a breath.
“And you’re fuckin’ beautiful. Sexy. Curvy. Every woman there wants to be you, and every guy wants to fuck you.” Just thinking about exposing her had me ready to rip the eyeballs out of anyone who happened to see her. Releasing her hips, I squeezed her breasts again. “But you’re all mine. Nobody can have you but me. As they watch, I suck on these perfect tits.” Popping a nipple into my mouth, I teased it with my tongue and teeth. “I play with this swollen clit.” Sucking on the other nipple, I massaged her clit with my thumb.
She moaned, arching her back.
Releasing her nipple with a pop, I gripped her hips again and started moving her against me. “Then I back you up to the wall and bury myself balls deep inside of you. One thrust and I fill you so full of me you cry out.” I gave her a little taste of what I was talking about.
She gasped.
Picking up the pace, I brought her down harder and faster against me. “With everyone watching, I fuck you until you call out my name.” Now slamming her onto me, I moved her so fast, she looked like a goddamn pogo stick hopping away on me. Tits bouncing, ass slapping against my thighs, her pussy so wet it drenched me in her sweet juices, I gave her everything I had and more until she finally called out my name and shattered around me.
Then she collapsed on my chest and I wrapped both arms around her, giving us both time to recover.
“That was… intense,” she finally said.
Kissing her forehead, I squeezed her closer to me. “Yeah it was. I want to know all your fantasies, baby. I can’t promise to make them come true, but I can promise to fantasize with you.”
Raising her head up, she kissed my chin. “You got some game, white boy.”
I smacked her ass. “I got your white boy for you.”
***
After I recovered from Monica’s wild wild west wakeup call, we showered, dressed, and went downstairs to scrounge up food and coffee. This time, we almost plowed into Bull. The youngest member of the club stood in the doorway of the dining room with both hands wrapped around a coffee tumbler and a lost look in his bloodshot eyes.
“Hey brother, you okay?” I asked.
He shook himself, as if trying to come out of a daze. “Women! I just don’t get ’em.” Then he realized Monica was with me and backpedaled. “I mean, not all women. I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to generalize like that. I should… I should get going. I gotta head to work.”
Despite his dishonorable discharge, Bull had landed a job at a manufacturing plant. His swing shift hours sucked ass, but he seemed to like the work and promised to put in a good word for me once he built up some rapport. I was grateful he was thinking of me, but wasn’t holding my breath. Lately it seemed like the entire universe was stacked against me getting a damn job.
Before Monica or I could respond to Bull’s ramblings, he took off. We watched him disappear around the corner before facing each other.
“He’s right; bitches be crazy,” Monica said with a shrug.
I squeezed her hand. “Good thing my woman’s a queen, huh?”
“You think you’re so smooth.” The smile she fought said a hell of a lot more than her words.
“Like butter, baby.”
“Let’s see how smooth you are in the kitchen.”
I made some fresh coffee while Monica took stock of the refrigerator and listed off options. Settling on pancakes and bacon, we got to work. Monica had no trouble cracking the eggs one handed, but mixing the batter was another story. I offered to swap jobs—letting her fry the bacon while I stirred—but she was determined to do it herself. Wedging the bowl between the industrial toaster and the wall, she was finally able to keep it still as she stirred.
Grinning up at me, she mixed out the last of the lumps before setting it down by the stove with a triumphant cheer.
My chest swelled at the sight. There was something so perfect about the moment, I had to kiss her. Fisting the front of her shirt, I pulled her against me and kissed her breathless.
By the time we pulled apart, I was ready to head back upstairs, but the bacon was finished and the pancake pan was smoking. Focusing on breakfast, we finished up, ate, and then cleaned up our mess. By the time we finished, we only had about an hour and a half to get to Monica’s doctor’s appointment.
The weather had been unseasonably dry lately, but today had taken a turn for the worse. The rain came down in sideways sheets, slopping up the streets and wreaking havoc on rush hour traffic. Taking my bike would have been stupid, so we opted to drive her car instead. Since I knew where we were going, she tossed me the keys.
Dr. Nuddell had taken excellent care of me, and I was confident he’d do the same for Monica. The long, silver-haired hippy of a doctor didn’t disappoint. He explained all of her options and put the ball firmly in her court, encouraging her to take her time making a decision. He fitted her with a temporary prosthesis to help her get used to the weight and simple exercises, before having her work with a physical therapist. The appointment took a couple of hours, and we left his office loaded down with several pamphlets of information, a temporary prosthetic, and a whole new appreciation for ever-changing technology.
