Aside from her physical beauty, which I admit is fucking alluring, Ellie has this level of emotional maturity that I never knew girls could have. Or maybe that’s the problem? I’ve only ever dated girls, never awoman. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging. Lord knows I went through plenty of my own immature shit over the years. I’ve still got lessons to learn, I’m nowhere near done becoming the man I’m meant to be. But I have never had a girlfriend, a hook-up partner, or even a female friend with the type of calm, has-her-shit-together energy that Ellie exudes with every action she takes, everything she says, and everything she doesn’t. And then there’s those times she lets loose (on purpose, with a drink, or a casual night in front of the TV, or accidentally, when she gets nervous and starts rambling), that just make me fucking adore her that much more.
The fact that I just feelcomfortableto be myself around her speaks volumes to me. There’s no pressure to be anyone other thanme. It feels like she sees the best in me, even brings it out, and isn’t worried about those parts of me that I’m still taming and refining. She’s okay with all of it. And I fucking love that about being with her.
I stop pacing my room and flop down onto the bed on my back, staring at the white, textured ceiling like it’s a blank canvas, painting my own mental pictures, imagining how that little moment between us could’ve ended differently had Mark and the rest of the clown squad not shown up unexpectedly.
Those breathy noises she was making play on repeat in my head. It leads me to imagine the sweet sounds she would’ve made if I’d had just fifteen more seconds alone with her and my balls tighten at the thought. Images flash through my mind’s eye of me between those thick thighs, buried to the hilt and pulling pleasure out of her in ways she’s never had before. Ever since she shared with me that she’s never had a vaginal orgasm (okay, maybe it started before that), I’ve been planning all the things I want to do to her. My fingers, my tongue, my dick. I’d use every single part of me to make her scream.
I look down sadly at the newly reformed tent in my sweats and sigh.Not happening, little buddy.We missed our chance for tonight. My hand isn’t even gonna feel good after what we had a taste of earlier. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’ll get her alone again soon.
My stiffy doesn’t listen to me, staying resolutely erect, despite my attempted negotiations and use of logic in talking to my own junk.
It’s a wonder I’ve been single for so long, honestly. I am atreasure.
I let out self-deprecating snort, followed by a pained groan and scrub my hands over my face to attempt to wipe away the lingering frustration. There’s no hope for that, though. I have a feeling this irritation at my roommate’s impeccable timing is going to remain until I manage to get a willing Ellie all to myself again. I just hope that close call didn’t set us two steps back.
Despite my obvious annoyance at being disrupted, I can’t help but smile at the progress we made tonight. I know she’s scared to let herself fully go with me. I know she’s worried she’ll be seen as something of a predator, which is fucking ridiculous. She has been so professional, crossed zero lines with me untilIdecided she was what I needed and started pushing her for more. I’ve been a grown-ass adult for thirty-six motherfucking months. It’s hardly unheard of, the age difference between us. If I were the older one and she the younger one, I doubt anyone would look more than twice at us.
But I know society would give her a hard time, more than they would me if we were openly, publicly together, because an older woman and a younger man? Still rare to see on a day-to-day basis, even for as much sense as we make together. And at our ages? Almost never seen.
I want her to see how good we are together. How good things can be between us, how worth it it will be to push through these barriers with me for what lies beyond them. I’m more than happy to take this at her pace, as slow as she needs to in order to see what could exist when it’s just her and me.
Ellie and Asher.
Asher and Ellie.
Even the thought of us together for real does things to me.
But I said as slow as sheneedsto, not as slow as shethinksshe needs to. She’s been stalling, trying to put off anything physical developing between us, and she’s obviously ready to move forward. I think she might be done letting her head get in her own way, her own twat-stop, if you will. She was ready for me tonight. Ready for me to push her over that edge, to see how good I can make her feel, the things I would do to make her happier than she’s ever been.
I’ve never been more glad of the experience I have with women, because I can’t wait to put all the tricks I’ve learned over the years to use for this one. A grin breaks out on my face at the thought, and I don’t even try to stop it. From what she’s shared of her own sexual history with me, I’m positive I’m going to change her world in ways she hasn’t even anticipated.
I can’t fucking wait.
If she gets skittery now, that’s on me. I should’ve gotten her somewhere I knew I could’ve finished anything we started, not mauled her in fucking public. Though, if we’d been in my room when they came home, that could’ve endedsomuch worse.
I can’t let this scare her away. I know she’s as ready for me as I am for her—I hardly had to do more than be in her proximity tonight, and she was ready to feel out the temptation that’s been brewing between us for months. I hope I didn’t undo that progress by nearly getting us caught by the douchebags in the room next door.
While I didn’t pursue her until she was single and over her ex (the change in her wasunmistakableafter she got away from that burlap-sack-of-potatoes-with a-pocket-protector of a human being), I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed her from day one and wanted her in some dark recess of my mind that I tried to repress for those first weeks.
She is so effortlesslysexyin a way that drives me fucking wild. I can’t wait to get underneath that put-together exterior and see how crazy I can actually drive her.
Trust me, I have plans for her. I just need to get her alone again, and I hope she doesn’t make me work even harder for it now. But if she does, I’m ready. I’ll do whatever it takes to show her what’s waiting for us.
* * *
“Hey man,have you seen our other beach towel?”
I halt, my back to my best friend, not even breathing. Ihaveseen that towel. I saw it wrapped around my soon-to-be missus, when Mark and the others busted up our make out and more sesh in the pool the other day and she practically ran away, back to her car.
“Ummm, I dunno? Maybe I used it at the pool? It’s probably in my laundry pile.”
“Huh,” he muses.
“What do you mean, huh?” I bite the bait.
“I was just messing with you yesterday, ya know. I didn’t actually think you were trying to make a move on that chick up there. But I’m pretty sure that she had a towel just like ours as she ran away. Her face was awfully fucking red when she bolted, and you were mighty pissed at me and Brooklyn and Livvy and everyone for crashing your private party. I’m starting to wonder if I wasn’t onto something.”
“Dude. I didn’t even notice that chick’s towel. Sounds like you were the one checking her out. But are you asking about the blue one that says St. Pete Beach? ’Cause we live in a world-famous beach town. I guarantee you a lot of folks around here have that damn same one, or one that looks just like it.” My mouth won’t stop moving, trying to throw him off the scent, and I hate what I throw out there next. “But hey if you’ve got the hots for Mrs. Robinson, maybe you should shoot your shot with her again next time you scare her away from the pool deck. Not sure it’ll go any better this time, but hey, if you’re this obsessed with her, you might as well try.” The thought makes my stomach turn, but I have to play this right. Hope I sound as innocent and give-no-fucks as I tried there, but I’m too in my head to tell if I pulled it off. Mighta over-sold it there.
