Chapter 6
Single men tend to live like they got robbed, and all that was left was the TV.
I fully expected there to be no furniture except a mattress on the floor.
Maybe a few beers in the fridge, and a bathroom that makes me have to squat.
Why I’ve fucked enough guys to expect this makes me feel like I don’t know my worth.
I chalk it up to having been in my twenties.
Callahan’s place isn’t like that. Fully furnished and with enough character to give it a vibe, I can see myself chilling here, playing video games, and eating junk food. I can certainly appreciate the fact that I’m about to be laid out on a king-size mattress with soft cotton sheets.
But the tour doesn’t end in the bedroom. He takes me through the whole place and then lifts me up onto his island.
“What are you doing?”
“This is where I eat my meals.” With a wicked grin, his hands go to work tearing off my tights and thong, leaving me bare-assed on the counter.
He slides me forward until my butt is dangling off the edge. Making up for the lost support, he lifts my legs onto his shoulder, holding me up with his steady grip.
“What a pretty pussy.” He licks his lips, his eyes flicking up to look into mine. Happy that I landscaped before coming here, I watch as he admires it.
Running a finger through the seam, he brings it to his mouth and sucks on it. His eyes close, like the taste is too much to bear, and when they open again, there is this heat that makes them look hazy.
“You shouldn’t play with your food,” I say, breath labored.
“You’re right.”
He parts my lips and licks slow and long from my opening to my clit.
Moaning like it’s bringing him pleasure, he repeats the action.
Lifted up on my elbows, I throw my head back, almost hitting the surface.
I can no longer keep myself up when he starts to pick up his pace.
The gentleness of his lips mixed with the roughness of his beard shifts the whole experience.
“You taste so good.” Sticking his tongue in, he swirls it around, lapping up my juices. When he suctions his mouth over every part of me, I really start to unravel.
Somehow, he doesn’t even need his fingers to make me come, his mouth being enough.
The way he laps, nibbles, and licks really does me in, causing me to lurch up and cry out.
He holds me down, not stopping even as I begin to tremble.
Lips moving in frequency with my shaking, the rhythm we create forces the song of my pleasure to pour out of my mouth.
When he sees I can’t take anymore, he stops. I sit up, a little sex drunk and ready for more. If I knew it was going to be this good, I would have done it on the first night. Then again, how am I supposed to act like this means nothing when I’m already planning the next time in my head?
“Now let me see those beautiful tits,” he says, bringing me back to the moment.
Obliging his request, I rip off my layers, until I’m laid out completely naked in front of him. My boobs, which have been looking towards the ground since I got them, flop over my upper belly, nipples hard.
“Now you,” I say, a little worried. This will be the first white dick I’ve ever seen.
He starts with his shirt, tearing it off to reveal a hairy and large chest. The ginger trail continues down his midsection and over his belly before disappearing in the underwear he quickly gets rid of. When his hard, thick, long penis slaps his stomach, I can’t help but gasp.
Its girth and length distract me from the fact that it’s pink. The bulging head leaking precum looks like a Bavarian sausage leaking juice. Like I do with the meat, I wonder how I am going to take that in my mouth.
“I guess everything about you is big.”
He strokes his hand up and down it, and I wonder at how it takes a full second to get from the base to the tip.
“Don’t be worried, I’ll go slow.”
“Don’t, I like it rough.”
“I can do that too.”
I wait for him to grab a condom, my legs shaking in anticipation. When he throws them over his shoulders and folds me against his chest, they are the only steady thing about me.
Him lifting my two-hundred-plus pound body makes it evident my initial thoughts about him were true. Happy that I gave in to my desires, I let him hold me up, my arms ornaments around his neck.
While his hands are gentle, his entrance is not as he slams into me, making me swear.
The pain is instant, but so is the pleasure as he continues to move, hitting every nerve of my G-spot.
I feel so stretched by him that my common sense leaves my body, and for a moment, I wonder if he will loosen me permanently.
Moving me and himself at the same time, the sound of us slapping against each other echoes out into the open concept apartment.
He walks while fucking me, until he has me pressed up against the wall. The pressure freeing his hands a little, he uses them and his mouth to nip and pinch my nipples.
“Yes, just like that,” I urge, telling him just how I like it.
Enjoying the praise, he continues doing as I say. He pushes in and out of me so fast and hard that I slide up and down the wall.
The sex is primal, rough, wild, and free.
He grips me like I’m the only thing holding him here, as my pussy transports him to a higher place.
He growls into the crook of my neck, biting every once in a while like he can mark me as his.
Part of me wants him to. I want to look at my neck and know that I belong to him.
“Callahan.”
“Yes, love?”
“I’m close.”
He speeds up, granting me the pleasure I desperately need.
When he holds himself inside me, it’s like he pressed the button to make me fall apart.
I bolt up, my body spasming while I grip his neck like that will keep me from being in pieces.
Still, I fall apart in his arms, held together only by his hands.
He starts up again, going just as rough until he shortly finishes.
I slump in his arms, and despite his heavy breathing, he holds me up.
Angling my face towards his for the first time, our lips come together.
As soon as we make contact, a hunger shoots through me like the taste of him makes me crave his entire being.
I kiss him hard, like I’m trying to suck his soul from his body, to add to mine.
He pulls for every push I give, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
I can’t help the moan that escapes, or the one that follows it when he growls against my lips. I feel consumed by him, and I don’t want him to let me go. So when he pulls back, I have to fight to stop myself from whining.
“Again?” he asks, still inside me. My mouth falls open, but I don’t protest as he slides down my body and replaces his dick with his mouth. `
Wrapped up in his arms, his heat is making the cold hardwood floor less abrasive. I snuggle into his neck, my hand coming to rest on his stomach.
“So does this make you my girlfriend now?” He rubs his thumb up and down my arm slowly, the sensation comforting.
“Sir, this barely makes me your friend.”
“You used me.”
I sit up to see his lips parted and eyes wide. For a moment, my heart stops before he gives me a wink.
“You play too much,” I say.
“A boy at heart, I like to mess with the girl I like.” He grabs me by my ass, lifting me more on top of him.
My legs are sore from the hours-long fuck spree that was us coming together. I hiss a little at the ache of moving.
“I’ll allow it,” I say.
“Well, do you like me?” This time, I can’t tell if he is joking when I look at him.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“To me, it does.”
Adjusting to sit on top of him, I start to feel him get hard again. Grinding just a little bit to warrant a hiss, I lean forward and kiss his neck. Sliding my hand down between us, I grab onto his boner, stroking it until it’s positioned between my lips.
“Stop trying to distract me,” he says while pushing up, trying to cause more friction.
“I just think there are better things we can do than talk.” I reach for the pile of condoms next to us. Before I can grab one, he flips us, pinning me under him. Lifting enough that our parts are no longer touching, he uses his hand to force my chin to keep me looking at him.
“Do you like me, Monty?”
There is a rigidness to his jaw that sinks into his shoulders, causing them to tense as well.
“I mean it. It doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
I push back a little, and he instantly lets go, helping me up. Searching for my clothes, I settle for stealing his shirt. For the first time ever, a guy’s shirt is loose on me, making me feel dainty.
“Monty?”
“I can’t date you, Callahan.”
“Because of Rowan?”
Finding my underwear, I slide into them while promptly grabbing my tights too.
“No, not because of Rowan.”
“Then why?”
“It’s too much to explain.” It feels rude to put on my jacket mid-conversation, but I don’t know how to have this talk without hurting his feelings.
“We have time,” he says, grabbing my hand and leading me towards his couch.
My legs shake when I go to sit down, and I don’t know if that is from the sex we just had or my unwillingness to stay.
“Honestly, I don’t owe you all my reasons.”
“You’re right, but I hope part of you wants to tell me anyway.”
I think back to all the times Farrah told me I’m too closed off and wonder if this is the same thing. I have known him for three days, and it’s not like I didn’t make my intentions clear. But he also made his clear.
“I don’t know how you are going to take this.” I turn to face him on the couch. He grabs my legs and drags them onto his lap. His fingers grasping my ankle lets me know that he wants me to stay.
“All I can do is listen.”
“Okay, well, for reasons I’m not really willing to discuss or share, I don’t date white men. Honestly, I only date Black men. So as much as I may like you, I really can’t go further than this.”
“Oh.”
Expecting rage or offense, I don’t know what to do with his resigned sigh. He looks at my legs on his lap, then up at my face and smiles, continuing to throw me off.
“While I respect your decision, and the likely justifiable reasoning behind it, I can’t promise that I won’t try to change your mind.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not joking around when I say I see you as my wife. If it takes a little time for you to see the vision, too, I can be patient.”
I’m trying to see what game he is playing at, because there is no way he can be this devoted this quickly.
Yet every minute I’m with him, he makes it more and more clear that he wants me.
Even though I can’t let myself want him back.
Not when he threatens to force me to acknowledge every insecurity brought on by my mother.
“I don’t know what to say to that.” I stand up, catching my reflection on his TV screen. My edges are fucked up, but you can’t hate a man that sweats out your edges.
“Just say you will continue to see me, even as your friend.”
Having watched Farrah fall in love with Errol after they became friends, I know how dangerous a friend can be.
“Or we can keep doing this,” he says.
Tempting as that offer is, I can’t take any chances.
“You will be around the people I hang out with, so we can be cordial.”
“Damn,” he says, pressing his palm to his chest.
“Maybe we can work up to being friends once I no longer remember what that monster looks like.”
He swings it back and forth, reminding me that it’s big even soft. Like the soreness between my legs isn’t reminder enough.
He tells me he won’t be there to see us leave, so this is our goodbye. Because of that, I let him kiss me once more before I walk out to the cab. He watches me go, and I keep looking back at him. I don’t look forward until the car turns the corner.
I don’t want to think that this is the last time I’ll see him. Yet, even being everything I could want in a person, he is everything I fear in a man, and I won’t take that risk for him.