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“It’s when the crust around the hole gets good and juicy…that’s when I know it’s ready for me to finish it off.” I smear a wad of peanut butter on the top of the bagel. “Got to get all that wetness from around the hole. Makes it taste better.”
“Oh, my holy Jesus,” she mutters, finally breaking eye contact and dropping her food onto her plate.
“Savannah?” a woman’s voice asks. Savannah jumps, almost knocking over her coffee, and shakes like a chill went up her spine. My eyes widen, and my tongue freezes, still out of my mouth with peanut butter on the tip. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all,” Savannah recovers, her face bright red. “Um,” she clears her throat. Shaking her head a bit, she gestures to the woman. “Wilder, this is my friend, Melissa. Melissa, this is Wilder.”
Melissa holds her hand out to me, and I shake it. It’s cold, and it feels weird to notice that not everyone’s hands are warm like Savannah’s. I reach for a napkin and wipe my lips, pulling away the napkin to reveal a brown stain. I must be covered in it. Savannah’s friend probably thinks I’m insane.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Wilder. Savannah said you were good looking, but she held out on me.”
“Down, girl,” Savannah says. Her face returns to a more normal color, and her legs stop shaking the table.
Damn. I had it set up where I’d be face first in Savannah’s snatch in ten minutes if this woman hadn’t interrupted us. I smile at the woman, but it’s hard. Now I have to find another food around the apartment I can use to simulate oral sex. Oranges? Two cherries clumped together? Should I just go buy a ton of bagels?
The women make small talk for a bit and make lunch plans for the next week. I listen to very little. I’m too focused on Savannah and her calm voice as she talks to her friend. She speaks like she wasn’t just ready to jump over the table and open her legs for me.
“It was nice to meet you, Wilder,” Melissa finally says. She waves and adjusts her purse strap over her arm.
As soon as she’s gone, I blow on my coffee and take another drink. “Where were we?”
I hope we can pick up where we left off so I can get Savannah going again. A ping from her purse ruins any thought of that, and I let out an audible groan in frustration as she checks her phone.
“Sorry, Wilder,” she says, looking at her device. “Mom needs me to come over for a bit. Can you walk back on your own? Do you want my key?” she asks, emptying her plate into the nearby trashcan and grabbing her coffee.
I nod, completely deflated. How long until I can give this woman pleasure in some way and get pleasure in return? Every time I get close, we get interrupted. You’d think it’d be easier since we live together, but I’m still learning the best way to approach her.
I look at my plate and accept that I’ll need to buy bagels and peanut butter for the apartment.
November 8 - Wilder
“Why would any woman not straddle you and go for a ride on the D after living with you for almost a month?” Gus laments as I ignore the sarcastic lilt to his voice. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t have such alpha friends. I should find more female friends or a good beta dude that’ll actually give me sensitive advice.
Gus crushes his cigarette into the bar ashtray and runs his fingers over his handlebar mustache that drives the ladies insane when he offers them a ride on it. If it’s even possible, Gus gets laid more than I get laid, and that’s saying something. As a team, we’re unstoppable, and the regulars in bars leave when they see us, knowing we’ll take home all the good pussy. They don’t stand a chance.
“She’s hot.” He nods to a woman with red hair in the corner, watching us both.
I look away and focus on my beer. “I don’t want any of that. Savannah’s my cuff partner. I need to give it a shot.”
“She’s not putting out. You put it in the contract you didn’t have to be monogamous if she wasn’t fulfilling her duties, right?”
“It’s in there. I just think we’re close, you know? Surely, I’ll make it happen soon. I don’t need to fuck anything up by not coming home tonight. She’s warmed up to me. I’ll be face first between her legs in a matter of days.”
“Good,” Gus claps his hands. “Then, you can get it out of the way, fuck her for a few months until it gets old, and be on your way.”
I raise my beer in a salute. That’s a good plan. That’ll work. I just need to knock a couple of good fuck sessions out with her, she’ll bore me in bed by Christmas, and February fifteenth will be easy peasy. I’ll hug her goodbye, pat her on the back, get on my bike, and move to the next town.
I tap the bar and look at the framed pictures, neon signs, and sport team flags behind the bar. “Uh, Gus?”
“Yeah?” he asks, already staring at the redhead and making eyes at her, luring her into his fuck trap.
“Any advice?”
He turns to me so fast his neck will probably hurt tomorrow. “Advice for what?” He rubs the back of his head like it already hurts.
I shrug. “Getting face first between her legs, of course.”
“Why the fuck do you need advice? You’re a fucking sex god. Get in there!”
