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“I thought it was only fair.” And before she can even let out a laugh, I am reaching for her, pulling her to me and on top of me so my lips press hard against hers. I taste me, and her, the perfect blend--a delicious combination that I won’t be able to ever get enough of. She collapses onto me and we both give into it, drifting, kissing, and touching each other until the night takes us and we fall asleep, tangled in blankets on the floor.
7
Lola
There are moments in your life that are so important that a “before” and an “after” are created, with reference to them.
Willow Rutherford came crashing into my life. Despite our very obvious differences, from the moment I felt her on my skin, I knew she was only supposed to taste me more. I left for our date nervous, but the second I saw Willow, I knew she was special and that I wanted her—and I am not the kind of woman to let opportunities slip me by. She was unsure, a confident woman out of her comfort zone. So I took the lead, flirted harder than I perhaps might normally, and pushed myself into her space to show her that what she wanted and what I wanted were the same. Because I knew she wanted me.
It is my job, after all, to read not the things that people say, which are often cloaked by darkness and music. And many words are left unspoken. Instead, I read their bodies, their actions, and the invitations they give away with their eyes without even knowing they are doing it. And Willow’s body was like a megaphone, hollering out exactly what she wanted. Her eyes showed nothing but hunger for me. And once she started to let go of her reservations, the words fell from her beautiful lips as well.
She surprised me sexually. And I don’t surprise easily.
Her words during our sex were so fucking hot. Willow didn’t yet realize that she wanted to really take control--to make me need her, want her, drown in her. And that is exactly what I wanted too.
Willow tasted like heaven to me. I’d have happily drowned in her.
Sleeping on her floor left me achy despite the luxurious floor coverings, however, and the sun was streaming in early, which I wasn’t mentally prepared for. I only see one “six o’clock” in a usual day, and it’s never the first one. But Willow’s body is stunning in the sunlight. Her pale skin is luminous in the morning light and her hair is all kinds of honeyed highlights in easy waves. Maybe a little messy, but not much. Even a post-sex Willow Rutherford who spent the night on the floor is very well put together.
Willow, it seems is an early riser, and the moment her lovely brownish gold eyes open they have a focus I’m envious of.
“Well, good morning, sleepy girl,” she says with a warm smile that makes my morning grumpiness fade in seconds. Her teeth are perfect. Not hollywood dazzling white, but a lovely natural shade of white with very neat alignment. I imagine that has something to do with an expensive cosmetic dentist. She is so very pretty.
“Is it morning? . . . I’ve never seen this mythical thing,” I say with a wry smile, as Willow laughs.
“I usually get up at six, but then I get to the office early, or work out--or you know, do things. I think maybe for this one morning, I could do fewer things.” I listen to Willow’s words, but am aware that her body is telling me more. Her hand reaches to touch me. Her nails are neatly manicured and french polished. Her hand is soft and her touch is gentle and intimate.
“I like fewer things,” I reply, but I can hear the little shift in my own voice. It’s almost thickening with want.
What is it about Willow Rutherford that is so enticing to me?
In my line of work, it would be easy to make assumptions that I often sleep with clients. Either for money or otherwise. I know that some of the girls do, but for me it couldn’t be further from the truth. Maybe it helps that most of my clients are men and I’m just not interested in men. I never have been.
Willow is the first. My first time meeting a client outside of the club. My first time sleeping with a client.
For all the sexual charge I have at work, most of my actual sex is solo. Had alone, at home.
Willow leans in slowly to kiss me, as though it is the most natural move in the world. As though we have kissed a million times before.
Her lips press against mine like I am made of glass. She is so sweet and delicate this morning.
So I give her a really delicate kiss back, super slow, soft, gentle and shy--but I make sure she can feel me linger before I pull away.
I want her to know that I like it.
God knows what this is between us, or where this is going. I’m no expert in one-night stands, but I’m sure that waking up and tenderly kissing the morning after sex isn’t the norm for a casual hook up.
Willow gives me a soft squeeze. I lean forward, resting against her, nuzzling into her. I feel desperate to be close to her and I know how much she craves me like this. “You can lean right here, baby. Okay?” she says, as she gives me another kiss back.
I nod seriously. Sitting exactly where Willow indicates, closing my eyes as she kisses me back, and letting my need wash over me. I feel safe in her arms. Very safe.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she murmurs softly.
I nod again. I’m not sure I’ll be able to find words right now.
“It’s okay. Needy girls don’t need to talk, do they? And you are a very pretty, needy girl.” Willow is confident when she is with me. I never thought of myself as needy and submissive, yearning for a strong capable mommy type, yet here I am. And I like it.
Who is she?
