Chapter 7 - Willow
When we wake up Sunday morning, Mike offers to make me breakfast. I can’t stop smiling at him.
We lounged around all day yesterday, alternating between watching old movies and him fucking me all over his house.
I had so many orgasms, my body seems trained to get wet just being around him now.
He only has to look at me to turn me into a puddle.
Yep, I’m such a slut and it’s wonderful.
This is the best Thanksgiving weekend I’ve ever had.
Not even the odd moment with my fork-wielding mother could ruin it.
I take a chair at the kitchen bar and watch him make us scrambled eggs and bacon. When he slides a plate in front of me along with a glass of orange juice, my eyes go wide at how perfect it looks. I’m used to Oliver-the-Prick just tossing a box of cereal at me and calling it good.
I hold my fork, ready to dig in. “This looks yummy, thanks.”
He smiles. “No, you look yummy. Breakfast looks okay.”
He winks at me, and I flush. I think I look silly in his baggy shirt, and yet it also gives me a slutty feeling, like I’m doing a walk of shame, but in the man’s clothes instead of mine.
I roll my eyes at him. “I look terrible. I look like a slut.”
His lips curve into a smile. “A slut in my bed and my clothes, so it’s all good. And you look gorgeous… and fuckable.”
My blush deepens. I love how he compliments me so easily.
I could get used to this. Hell, I want to get used to it, and continue whatever we’ve got going here beyond this weekend.
I need to see him again, and this time I’m going after what I want.
I’ve had a taste of him, and now I’m starving for more.
I pick up a piece of crispy bacon and take a bite. “So, I need to go home today, but when do I get to see you again so you can fuck me mindless?”
He swallows a huge bite of egg and takes a sip of orange juice. “Actually, we need to talk about that. I’m going on a cruise for a few weeks, so we can’t see each other, but we can text.”
I don’t expect that answer, and I blink to hide my surprise. “Oh. Okay. Wow, a cruise.”
He watches me closely, and I must look crestfallen because he walks over to me.
He gives me a deep kiss. “I want to see you when I get back.”
That makes me feel a little better, so I nod and look into his gray eyes. They sparkle, and I’m so captivated, I almost forget what I was talking about.
Oh right. “And then what? When you get back from your trip, will I still be a freeuse slut to you?”
He laughs. “Cherry is having a freeuse Christmas party. Want to be my date?”
Freeuse Christmas? Now that sounds like fun. I’m tempted to tease him by asking if that means I get to dress up as an elf, but there’s a more important question.
“Would I be wearing one of those ribbons that means I’m freeuse at the party?”
The laugh lines around his mouth deepen. “That depends. Do you want to wear one?”
I shrug and try to sound nonchalant. “I don’t know...” I take a huge bite of my eggs and make him watch me chew it before I finish answering. “I guess I could think about it while you’re on your cruise.”
The corners of his eyes crinkle, as if he finds my attempt to tease him funny, but he gives me what I want. “You think about it. And think about whether it will be a red or a green ribbon. They mean the same thing they did at the Halloween party.”
The bite of egg in my mouth is suddenly difficult to swallow as I imagine him bending me over a table while I wear a green ribbon around my wrist that allows people to use any hole. Oh fuck. I want that, but I’m also afraid.
He laughs at my expression and kisses my forehead. “Just something for you to think about. Don’t worry too much about it. Christmas will be fun.”
I nod my head, trying to convince myself of what he’s saying. I take a big drink of orange juice to distract myself, and he changes the subject to talking about the cruise and what he’ll be doing.
I’m distracted while he talks because my phone is in the pocket of his shirt and it keeps vibrating like I’m getting text messages. It’s probably my mom, and I’m not in the mood to talk to her yet. I’m not ready to deal with her until I’ve had a session with my therapist.
Something Mike says catches my attention. Did he just call the cruise a singles’ cruise? I tune into him again.
“...and since it’s a singles’ cruise, it’s usually pretty wild.”
Hold up, he’s really going on a singles’ cruise? I try to keep my tone of voice neutral. “That sounds like fun.”
He shrugs. “It was last year.”
I’m not done with my eggs, but I’ve lost my appetite. I stand up with my plate. “I can’t eat another bite. Thank you. It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome. Just leave the plate by the sink. I can take care of it later.”
I keep my back to him as a ball of anxiety grows in my stomach.
This is not the way I thought the weekend would end.
I’m supposed to be happy after all those orgasms, but the thought of him off on some ship full of single women makes me jealous.
We don’t have an agreement, and we’re not committed to each other. He can do whatever he wants.
This is just another thing for my poor therapist to hear about. I need to find out when my next appointment is. Thank heavens I’m still on my parents’ health insurance, so I can afford this.
After breakfast, he helps me gather my few things, and he tells me to keep the clothes I’m wearing until he gets back. As he carries my bag out to the car, I realize this is the last time I’ll see him until after his trip, and I feel glum.
I can’t tell whether he’s been enjoying himself. Maybe I’m just a plaything to him, a pleasant distraction during his last week before he gets on board with a bunch of hot older women. I’m not his submissive, or his girlfriend. Hell, he only gave me permission to call him ‘Sir’ for one day.
Both of us are quiet on the drive to my apartment, and he seems to be thinking, while I’m trying to do anything BUT think.
When he pulls up in front of my run-down apartment, he peers out the window at the building. “You live here?”
I can tell he’s surprised and I’m suddenly embarrassed about how low-income it looks. Shit, I should have gotten a ride to come pick me up. That would have been a good idea.
“Yep, this is me.”
He studies my building for a moment, and I shift uncomfortably.
Finally, he puts the car back into park. “Let me walk you up. I’d feel better doing that.”
“It’s just an apartment building,” I mumble as I climb out of the car.
Sure, this isn’t the best neighborhood, but I’m a barista living on my own. It’s the best I can do. I can’t even afford to own a car. I’m lucky to have an apartment without a roommate, especially because moving back in with my fork-crazed mother probably isn’t an option anymore.
I grab my overnight bag from the trunk, and we head into the building.
When he’s in the lobby with me, I notice him looking at the stained carpet.
Yeah, it’s time to end this on a better note.
I need to say goodbye to him here without him seeing my actual apartment.
I don’t want to tarnish the weekend we just had and leave him with thoughts of my pathetic life.
Dropping my bag, I turn towards him and rub my body against his. “Hey.”
Surprised, his eyes flick back to mine. “Hi.”
I snake my hands around his waist and tilt my head up. “Thanks for everything this weekend.”
Giving me a tiny smirk, he teases, “You were the perfect little freeuse slut.”
Fuck, that’s hot. My face flushes, and I quickly look around. Thank God we’re alone. He laughs and brushes his lips against mine. When he deepens the kiss, my knees go weak, and my toes curl while I moan softly.
When he breaks off the kiss, he rests his forehead on mine for a moment. “Until the next time, my slut.”
Feeling brave, I whisper, “Thank you, Sir.”
He pulls away, winks at me, and heads out the door. Once he’s gone, I get my phone and check my texts. I have ten messages, nine of them from my mother—I don’t bother opening those.
The last text is from Alice.
Alice:
How did your freeuse Thanksgiving go? I need details! Plus, I’ve got a crazy story to tell you too. Text me back, bitch.
Oh, she’s going to love this story. I snicker as I pick up my bag and take the stairs to my third-floor apartment.
After talking things over with Alice, she convinces me I need to relax about Mike.
We’re not dating, and we’re not exclusive or anything.
He’s probably had this cruise planned for months, and it’s not like he planned to meet me…
and more importantly, again, we’re not dating.
He can fuck whoever he wants, just like I can.
Except…I don’t want to fuck anyone else. I only want Mike.
I plop down on my bed and pout at the crack in the ceiling.
Fuck, I really do want only him. I’ve never met anyone like him before, and when I’m around him, I feel like the most important person in the entire world.
I know some guys are good at making a woman feel like that, but it doesn’t seem like an act. It’s who he is.
There’s no point wasting time wondering what to do about him. He’s going on a cruise and might meet the love of his life who is more his age. I’m probably good to fuck, but it’s not like he’d actually want to date me.
Damnit, I really am ruined for any other guy. When I submit to him and he takes control, I crave it. When he praises me for being such a good girl and tells me how much he enjoys fucking me...Jesus. Even the memory of his words is enough to get my heart racing.
I run my hands over my breasts and tease my nipples through his shirt while pleasure swirls in my core. At least I’ve got his shirt I can wear while he’s on the cruise. Maybe I’ll put it on, send him naughty pictures and tell him exactly what I’m doing to myself while wearing it.
Oooh, yeah…by the time I’m done with him, he won’t even be able to think straight enough to fuck any of those slutty chicks on the cruise. He’s going to wish he was home with me.
That settles it. I’m sending him filthy photos of myself while he’s gone and I’m going to drive him crazy.
It’s the perfect plan.