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Five
Her apartment is cozy.
Colorful throw pillows are lined up on her gray couch that sits in front of the medium sized television. She has a bookshelf that has books spilling off the shelves and a small dining table with two chairs off the galley kitchen.
She has picture frames with inspirational quotes on a few of the walls and a few photos of her and others that I imagine is her family.
She pulls me by the hand past everything and down the small dark hallway which passes by a bathroom and then into another dark room.
She lets go of my hand and then the dark room fills with a low light from the lamp beside her bed.
“Is this okay?” she asks hesitantly.
I nod, as words cannot form at the moment.
She sits down on her bed and pats the space beside her.
“I don’t want to be too presumptive. But I really like you,” she says.
“I like you, too.” I say sitting beside her. She places her hand on my thigh and through her lashes, she looks up at me.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
“You’re good. I promise you that you are all good and I’ll be okay with whatever you want,” I reply with a smile.
The look of nervousness disappears from her brow as she leans in, making the first move. I lean forward and kiss her with as much passion that I can spill into a kiss. We must have kissed for minutes, memorizing one anothers mouths and how the other likes to be kissed before she pulls back and maneuvers to sit astride me.
“Let me know if I crush you,” she whispers against my lips. Before I can protest, her tongue dives into my mouth and we’re running our hands across each other’s backs and moaning in the back of our throats.
Her hand moves in between our bodies as she fingers the waistband of my jeans and in a second, she has my pants unbuttoned. She lifts slowly then pulls the zipper down as I pull back to gauge her mood.
“I don’t want you to rush if you don’t want to, I’m not going anywhere and I’ll go whatever speed that you want me to,” I say to be clear to her that I genuinely like her.
“I want to do this, after last night, you’re all that I can think about.”
“I feel the same way,” I say pulling her back into the kiss by the column of her slender neck.
Her shirt comes off as she leans back on my thighs and cups my cock through my pants. She smiles when she feels around with the length and then looks up at me with a sparkle in her eye while biting her lower lip.
“What’s that look for?” I ask her.
“I am just surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised, by what?” I ask her confused.
“You didn’t strike me as a big dick.”
I laugh, then clear my throat. “Excuse me? I’m not quite sure what that means.”
“I just was expecting you to have an average sized dick,” she explains nonchalantly like she’s talking about the morning news.
“Average sized?”
“You know, not as big as you.”
“This is an odd conversation to have with your hand on my dick without wearing a shirt.”
“Sorry, I have a habit for saying what I’m thinking out loud without my filter,” she says sheepishly.
