Chris and I stay at the party for a bit longer, but shortly after, we bid our goodbyes and then we go back to his apartment. To have sex! Yay!
Before we can even start to get hot and heavy, Chris makes a beeline for the bathroom. I know he has to take his pill, and I’m guessing he’s probably emptying his bladder. I swear I wasn’t snooping, but one day he left a drawer in his bathroom slightly ajar and I happened to notice a supply of catheter bags. I deduced that he probably needs to catheterize himself in order to pee.
There’s something about catheters that’s a little hot. There, I said it. I’m sure that admission puts me solidly back in the pervert territory, but I’m nothing if not straightforward.
In any case, I’m sure Chris would never guess in a billion years that I find it sexy that he needs to stick a tube up his penis to pee, so he’s probably being very discreet about it, and will probably never tell me about it unless for some reason I absolutely need to know.
While I’m waiting for him, I start stripping. I kick off my shoes and pull off my dress, debating whether or not to get completely naked. I finally decide not to. I always feel a little weird walking around naked. Too exposed. Especially since I know Chris won’t be naked when he comes out of the bathroom. He always gets undressed in bed.
Chris looks pleased to see me at my current level of nakedness at the edge of the bed. He wheels over to me and pushes me down, pressing his face into my bare stomach, kissing me in that way that makes me tingle everywhere. After a minute of this, he starts to head south, and I’m worried that the play for sex has been forgotten. So to bring him back on track, I say, “Did you take your pill?”
He lifts his face. “Yes,” he says, a little warily.
I smile, hoping he won’t think of having sex with me as so much of a chore. “Then why don’t you come into bed?”
He transfers onto the mattress next to me, still not looking too thrilled. He pulls off his pants, and I get an extra thrill watching the way he has to manually lift up each of his legs to pull the pants leg off. He leaves his boxers on, but I don’t waist a second pushing my hand into the gap and wrapping my fingers around his penis.
Even the thought of touching Rob’s penis had been distasteful, but when you are really into a guy, having your hand on his penis is just so damn hot. This is so damn hot. He’s slightly erect, but not very. “Can you feel this?” I whisper.
“No,” he says.
“Not at all?” I ask. And he gives me this pained look, but fuck, I have to know, right?
“I need a little time for the meds to work,” he says. “Can we just kiss till then?”
Before I can say anything, I feel Chris’s hand forcibly pulling my own hand out of his boxers. And then he starts to kiss me. But I can tell he’s nervous and distracted, and as sexy as he is, I am beginning to just want to get this over with as much as he does.
Finally, he gives me permission to start touching him. His penis does respond better to me this time, growing hard under my hand. And by now, it’s been long enough that I’m practically sopping wet. I want him inside me so bad that it hurts. “I think you’re ready,” I whisper.
He nods and I mount him, since cowgirl seems to be the easiest position. I guide his penis inside me, and although it’s not as big and hard as Patrick’s, it’s still pretty amazing. It’s really true that for women, it’s less about the penis than about the guy.
Chris, bless his heart, is trying his best to contribute. He touches my breasts, my clitoris, my thighs, while I do all the thrusting. I start to get closer to climax, but this compulsion comes over me that I try to ignore but can’t. I know what will make me cum.
“Hey,” I say to Chris, “I’m going to turn around, okay?”
A look of confusion comes over Chris’s face, but he nods and allows me to get myself into a reverse cowgirl position. He touches my back and my ass as I continue to thrust, this time looking down at his legs. His legs, which bounce lifelessly with each thrust. And just as his slightly swelled feet both turn in to knock against each other, I explode in orgasm. Then quickly after, three more.
That was so, so intense.
As I collapse on the bed next to Chris, he puts his arm around me and pulls me close to him. “I take it you enjoyed that,” he says.
“Yes,” I manage.
“That position was a new one for me,” he says. “You were pretty… into it.”
I frown at him. “Well, why shouldn’t I be into sex with my boyfriend?”
He looks like he’s about to say something but thinks better of it. “True,” he finally says. “I’m glad you liked it. I feel like it’s not exactly… my forte.”
I laugh because he sounds so awkward saying that. I’ve honestly never known a grown man who seemed so embarrassed talking about sex. “So what is your forte, Mr. Barrett?”
“Oral sex,” he says. He smiles at me. “I’m pretty good at it, right?”
That’s the understatement of the century. “More than pretty good,” I say. “How come you’re so amazing at eating girls out anyway?”
“Because I love doing it,” he says very earnestly.
I don’t know how I lucked out so much. I’m dating a really cute wheeler who loves eating me out, and the sex is pretty damn good too. I hope this lasts forever. Although knowing me, it won’t.
Kate has just broken up with her latest redhead. I swear to god, she’s been in love with like six of them in the time that Chris and I have been dating. This guy was special though, or so she says. His name was Austin, and I have to admit, he was pretty hot. For a redhead. I can see what Kate liked about him.
Unfortunately, so did a lot of other girls. Austin was an insufferable flirt, and it was just a matter of time before he strayed. Kate found a suggestive text from another girl on his phone and she called it quits.
I’m on my way to Sunday brunch with Chris when Kate calls me and fills me in on the Austin situation. “Can I join you guys?” she asks me in her most pathetic voice. “I don’t want to be a third wheel, but I’m too depressed to be alone right now.”
“Definitely,” I tell her, knowing Chris will be fine with it.
Kate joins us about half an hour later, her usually flawless complexion red and blotchy. Her black hair is usually immaculate, but now it’s pulled back in a messy ponytail. Poor Kate. Of course, what really proves she’s miserable is when she flags the waiter down and orders half the menu.
Chris looks shocked. “I’ve never seen you order anything besides a salad.”
It’s not a great idea to criticize a woman’s eating habits, especially a woman who just caught her man cheating. Kate glares at Chris. “Are you saying I’m fat?”
Chris’s eyes widen. “What? No! I…” He looks at me for help and I shrug. “You’re definitely not fat, Kate. I’m just saying… you usually order salad.”
“Well, fuck salad,” Kate says. “I’m eating whatever I want from now on.”
Ha. I’ve heard that before.
“Anyway,” Kate says. “I’ll just get liposuction.”
Kate works in fashion, so she talks about plastic surgery procedures frequently. She says when she’s 35, she’s going to start getting Botox. “Go for it,” I say. “I’ll come with you and finally get that boob job I’ve always wanted.”
Chris looks horrified. “What are you talking about? You don’t need a boob job!”
Kate snorts. “Oh, come on, Chris. I know you love Sam and all, but you have to admit, she could go up a cup size or two.”
I nudge his shoulder. “It’s okay. You can admit it.”
“Samantha is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in my life,” he says. And he says it so seriously, like he really, really means it. It’s actually one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. Especially considering I’m not even beautiful, much less the most beautiful person he’s ever met, but he’s got me believing he really thinks that. I smile at him and he takes my hand under the table.
Kate looks at us for several seconds, then bursts into tears. “Nobody is ever going to love me that much!” she sobs.
We spend pretty much the next hour reassuring Kate that she’s going to find a great guy and it’s just a matter of time. But secretly, I keep thinking to myself that there are a lot of jerks out there, and I am one lucky biatch.
To be continued....