Chapter 43 – Anna
FORTY-THREE
ANNA
She was here. Now. They were in it.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I got ready for what was my second official date. All I saw was my belly. Hmm. Was that sexy to a guy?
Maybe if it was his baby.
It had been an easy fashion decision since I didn’t own much beyond business casual and athleisure wear. I had two dresses, one was a stretchy black dress I’d gotten on sale because I was told by the salesclerk that every woman needed a short black dress.
It was form fitting, but because of the material it did accommodate my growing uterus.
But now with Boo right there, it felt like I was wearing a big sign on my gut that said Look Here!
Stepping into a pair of slippers, I left my bedroom and walked over to E.G.’s bedroom. His door wasn’t shut all the way and I could see him sitting on his bed, dressed only in a pair of boxer-briefs, putting his pants on.
I stopped for a brief moment to admire his bare chest. It was hairy, not like too crazy, but definitely run your fingers through it hairy. I’d forgotten that about him. That I’d liked the feel of his chest pressed against my smooth back.
Although, it’s not like there was any point in thinking about sex, because it wasn’t happening with how I looked in this dress.
He was standing now, fastening his pants at the waist, and it made me think of a joke.
“How does a billionaire put his pants on?” I asked from the doorway.
“One leg at a time,” he said, without missing a beat.
Then he walked over to me and I had to force myself not to stare at his hairy chest that I desperately wanted to run my fingers over.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t think we can go on our date,” I said, forcing my head up at an angle where I was practically looking at the ceiling.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t look sexy, and if I can’t look sexy, then what’s the point?”
“Are you seriously standing in my bedroom fishing for compliments?”
“I’m not fishing! I mean it. Look at my gut in this dress.”
I heard a thump and allowed myself to look down. E.G. had fallen to his knees so that his face was level with the Boo. He put his hand on my belly and it covered the entire stretch of my stomach.
“This? You don’t think this is sexy?”
“No. Looking like I swallowed a soccer ball is not what I would call a hot look for me. I can’t be wooed if I don’t buy for a second that I’m turning you on.”
He pressed his forehead against my belly and sighed. The sound was so wistful, I couldn’t help but run my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp a little in a manner meant to soothe him.
He stood up then, his expression grim. “I didn’t want to do this. I had reservations for us at Etoile. But you leave me no choice.”
Bending down towards me, I instinctively backed away, but he wrapped an arm around my waist and hauled me up against him, so that the soccer ball I talked about was all mashed up against him.
He was hard. Like super hard. Like his dick was going to rip through his pants hard.
Then he was kissing me and that was all I could think about. How he felt and tasted. How his tongue moved in my mouth, and when it did my stomach plummeted in a way that made me feel like the floor had disappeared and I was free falling.
I missed this. I hadn’t really had it for that long and still I missed it. Because I was pretty sure we should always be kissing. I missed his taste, his breath. How it felt when his nose brushed against mine.
I heard the sound of a zipper. Were those his pants? My dress? Did it matter?
Except in the next second, he backed away and helped me to step out of my dress so that it was nothing more than a pile of material on the floor.
My panties followed, then my bra. When he pressed me up against him again my tight nipples brushed against his chest hair and I made a sound in the back of my throat.
I did like this. I liked feeling him naked against me. I liked the way he was cupping my ass in his hand, squeezing it like it was his favorite toy. I liked the way he was sucking on my neck. Not too hard, but just hard enough.
My hand found his cock and I stroked him. He grunted in my ear and then, like I couldn’t help myself, I fell to my knees. I didn’t want to give him a blow job. I had to. Knowing I’d never done this before, didn’t matter. I didn’t think or hesitate.
Just took him inside my mouth. Let my tongue roam over the swollen head.
He cursed loudly over my head and then finally told me to stop, even as he tugged me to my feet.
“I want more.” My voice was dark and throaty. I didn’t sound like me at all.
“Can’t,” he panted. “I was going to come in your mouth and we have to have a discussion before that happens.”
He moved me across the room until he was pushing me back on the bed. He spread my legs wide, and without completely removing his pants, just pushing them down past his erection, he shoved his hard dick inside of me and this time we both made a sound.
It still hurt a little, but E.G. was right. The pain was all a part of it. It was like my body had to see if it was willing to tolerate his presence within it, and after a mere second, it decided he was welcome.
“You are the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered in my ear. “Believe that. You destroy me.”
I didn’t see how that could be possible, but I didn’t have any words to argue.
“Fuck, you’re so damn wet and tight,” he growled. “I fucking love not wearing a condom. I’m never going to fuck you again with one on. It’s always just going to be me inside you. My cum filling you up.”
I wasn’t sure if he knew what he was saying, but I found it all a little dirty and super-hot while he drilled into me. Over and over again.
I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t want this ever to stop.
But I could feel my body stretching and yearning for something that was close.
That magical orgasming thing was going to happen, and I almost didn’t want it to.
Because that was the end, and I just wanted to stay here like this, on my back, with my legs open, while E.G. fucked me.
“Are you close?” he whispered in my ear. “I need you to get there, baby. Fast. I’m so on the edge right now.”
I twisted my body as if trying to evade the oncoming orgasm train that was about to hit me, but E.G. was having none of it. He used his whole body to press me back into the bed and then snapped his hips in this quick, hard rhythm that hit a spot deep inside my body, that basically just exploded.
I screamed. Not any word or even a coherent sound. It was more like an animal screeching in the throes of death.
E.G. groaned and I could feel the cum he’d talked about earlier spurting inside me and that seemed to draw out the intense body shaking pleasure.
He collapsed on top of me for a second, then rolled us so that we were on our sides. Both of us panting hard, our breath mingling.
“Flowers,” he panted. “You are one great lay.”
I laughed because I didn’t know what else to say to that.
“And you could be wearing a trash bag and I would find it sexy. Seeing you, with our kid inside you, there’s nothing fucking sexier than that to me. Except maybe your luscious tits. Your tits are fabulous, too.”
I touched his face with my fingers. “You say the sweetest things sometimes.”
He smiled and I traced his lips.
“I know I’m being a crass bastard,” he mumbled as he brought his hand up to cup my tit, his thumb and finger idly playing with my nipple.
“I’m supposed to be wooing you, but my brain is mush.
If you want the nice talk, I’ll try to think of some.
However, what I really want to do is corrupt you with my filthy words. ”
“Do you…” I wasn’t sure how to ask this, but it seemed like something we should discuss. Especially if we were going to start having sex on the reg, which I was pretty sure was a foregone conclusion now.
“What?”
“Do you want me to talk dirty to you?”
He barked out a laugh that I could immediately tell was condescending, so I punched him as hard as I could on the shoulder, which really wasn’t that hard.
“Stop laughing at me. I could talk dirty if you wanted me to.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this. Hold on.”
He took a second to kick off his pants and boxer briefs, then he got back into bed. There was a throw blanket at the end of the bed that he tossed over us, including over our heads, so that we were in our own little bubble.
Pressed up against each other, I touched my toes against his shins, felt his still damp dick against my belly, his chest hair against my breasts. I was starting to realize I really liked sex, but I loved this part afterwards.
Cuddling. I’m pretty sure we were cuddling.
“Okay, we’re in the safe zone. Now talk dirty to me.”
“Well, let’s see,” I began. “You…are…big. Big and hard.”
“That’s hot,” he teased. We both knew it really wasn’t. “Keep it coming.”
“And…I want to lick you like…like…ice cream.”
“Fuck! Not ice cream,” he fake groaned.
“If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m going back to my room.”
His expression changed then. He grew suddenly serious, his arms wrapped around me. “No, Flowers. You’re never going back to your room again.”
Yeah, I kind of figured that, anyway. Maybe I knew what I was doing when I decided not to wait for our date to seek him out. Now I didn’t have to wear that dress all night long.
“Fine. Then let me keep trying,” I told him.
“Yes. Please. Tell me more about the ice cream. What flavor am I?”
“You big jerk,” I muttered.
“Your big jerk,” he said.
Yeah, my big jerk.