7. Batman – Sihn
CHAPTER 7
BATMAN
SIHN
Mar stumbles over her words as I back farther away from her. “I just…you don’t…it’s late…”
“I am attracted to you, and I’m not going to lie. I would fuck you right now, right here on this sofa, but I’m not into pressuring my way into someone’s bed. Or in this case, sofa…” I make myself chuckle at the end even though I have never been more serious.
Her eyes shift, and she seems to dissociate into her thoughts. Likely imagining which position I would choose to take her on this couch.
“You’re gorgeous and from the area. There is just something about knowing where a person comes from. You can hold a conversation and actually offer interesting insight. Most women, in my experience, are just going through the motions. Usually, they don’t care enough about me or my past, They only care about getting in my pants.”
“But you let them.”
“I have.”
She cocks her head to the side. “But not anymore?”
“I’m at a point where I feel like I don’t have anything to offer a woman, and I’m disinterested in someone who only wants me for my body.”
Her face falls with my last comment. It was a half-truth. I am disinterested in giving someone my body, but at the same time, I want her to want it. I want her thoughts to always be of me. I want her to be obsessed with me. I want her, and I want her to want me too.
She crosses her hands over her chest. “It is late. I don’t want you out driving in the dark.” She looks down at the sofa and then back up at me. “I would offer you the sofa, but the floor would probably be more comfortable.”
I do most of my driving when the sun is down. I’m used to being up late. Dine on Demand orders increase during those hours. People become hungry and lazy when the sun sets. “Are you referring to my height?”
She nods.
“I’m six-one, but in my opinion, I’m about average and shorter than many of my friends. In reality though when I go to new locations, I’m typically one of the taller people there. There’s a stigma and power associated with height. Don’t laugh, but as a young man, I was hoping for six-two because Bruce Wayne is canonically six-two, but here I am.” I gesture at my length.
She scrunches her nose and then smiles. “Batman?”
“But of course.”
She takes a step toward me, and I take a step back.
“If you insist, I’ll sleep on the floor, but can I at least have a pillow and a blanket?”
She turns, and I can see how nice her ass looks in her jeans. Fuck .
“Don’t be silly, you can sleep in Verdi’s guestroom.”
I wake up in a sweat. I need to piss, and I am extremely thirsty. Verdi must have the heat on in this place. It feels like a sauna. I’m used to sleeping with a fan on me. I used a fan sound on my phone, but my phone must have died because the sound is gone now.
I cross the hall to the bathroom where Mar changed earlier and relieve myself. The water from the sink feels so good on my hands as I’m washing them that I dip my head down and take a drink from the tap. It’s not excessively girly in here, but it is clean. The sink contains an electric toothbrush that is connected to an outlet and hand soap in the scent strawberry cupcake. A hand towel dangles from a loop on the wall. It’s dry, not like the one I have at home that seems to always be damp. Much cleaner in here than mine. I’m not a man who lives in filth, but I am a bachelor. I wash clothes once a week, and I have one hand towel.
When I exit the bathroom, I hear mumbling coming from the living room. I find Mar curled up like a shrimp on the sofa.
“What in the hell are you doing on the sofa?” I ask.
She bolts up and holds her arms in front of her like we’re about to duke it out. Although she isn’t much shorter than I am, she is no match for me. I would take her down with one swing. She’s wearing just her shirt from earlier. It’s fucking intoxicating.
“Chill, killa.” I make the mistake of touching her forearm, and she pulls her arms back immediately. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but why aren’t you curled up in Verdi’s bed next to a body pillow pretending it’s me?”
She huffs, “You!”
I feign ignorance. “Me?”
As she stomps down the hall to the bathroom, she calls over her shoulder, “Why would I be dry humping a pillow and pretending it’s you?” She slams the door behind her.
Well, that was fucking hot. Do women do that? I move to the door and speak loud enough that she can hear, but not too loud. “You might want to tone down the theatrics a bit before the neighbors call the cops to check on a domestic dispute in this apartment.”
She’s silent, but I hear the toilet flush and the faucet turn on, then off. The door opens and she slams into my bare chest.
Her body is cool against my skin. Instead of making some smart-ass remark or shoving me, she leans forward and sniffs my neck.
“Did you just sniff me?”
She inhales again, and I can feel her hot breath just above my collarbone before she lets out a moan.
“Oookay, you can’t be making sounds like that in the middle of the night while we’re alone.”
She seems to have forgotten how to speak. Her arms slink around my neck as she snuggles into the crook. We’re standing in the hall. I’m still hot as hell. I likely smell like sweat, but she’s acting as if this isn’t the first time we’ve been this close. When did she get this confident?
“Mar, are you awake?”
She nods and squeezes my neck, which makes my cock move beneath my briefs. I want to grab her by the hips and rock my length against her. I want to show her what she is doing to me right now, but I can’t. She said to stop earlier.
“Did you drink after I went to sleep or something?”
I can feel her lips pull into a smile on my skin.
“I don’t sleep with drunk women.” I have before, but I won’t with her, not after she told me to stop earlier.
Her head leaves the crook of my neck then, and she releases the hold she has on me. “I haven’t drunk anything.”
“Then why do I feel like you’re trying to jump my bones?”
She laughs. “ Jump my bones must be a saying before my time. The real question is, why do you think I’d have to be drunk to want you?”
“You’re the kind of girl someone takes home to Mom and Dad, not the kind you fuck and leave.”
She rolls her eyes and leans against the hall wall. Her shirt rides up and I can see her pink panties. “The fact that you think there can only be two types of women out there… Why do men do that? Put us in categories?”
“Women do it, too. Friend zone. Hot guy who you use as a hall pass. Guy you’d never give the time of day.”
“You’re ruining my turn-on.”
“I have never heard a woman say that before.”
“If you’re not going to give me what I want, please go back to where you were sleeping so I can finish myself off and get some sleep.”
Is she trying to kill me? Finish herself off? “You said stop. I can’t have sex with you on a day you told me to stop.”
“It’s a new day,” she exclaims. Her eyes brighten and she runs into the small kitchen. I follow behind her like I’m her duckling. She points at the clock on the oven. It’s one thirty-four in the morning. “See!”
We both smile, and I step toward her. I caress her cheek, and she leans into the palm of my hand, giving me access to her beautiful neck. I lean in and breathe in her scent as she did mine earlier. She’s invigorating and smells like honeysuckle and wildflowers. I can’t tell if her eyes are closed or not, but I imagine they are. I slip my free hand up her thigh and move her shirt up over her hips before dragging a single fingertip across the band of her underwear. Her hips buck unconsciously.
I lift my head slightly and see the table is the nearest hard surface. “The kitchen table?” I suggest.
“I’m not food!” she barks.
“I thought women found it sexy to be eaten out on a table?” From my extensive research into the world of pornography, women salivate at that shit.
“Not this woman.”
“Let me recap. The sofa is a no. The kitchen table is also a no. What about the wall?” That’s where she initially got turned on. The hallway.
“You think you could hold me up long enough to get off?”
I’m sure she is referring to her height and weight, which is not a problem for me. I’ve lifted men three times her size over my head. “I’m not worried about me getting off.” I’ll get off. The excitement for me comes from getting her off. Truth is, I was dreaming about her before I woke up in a sweat. If we end up together for real, I’ll probably just come straight in her, with zero immediate regrets, in about eleven seconds.
“What are you worried about?”
“Shhh,” I hush. “Less talking, more fucking…”
She sighs. “Sihn.” This isn’t the first time I have heard my name sexily escape a woman’s beautiful lips, but it feels like that first time. Usually being with a woman is a somewhat lukewarm interest in just getting off, but Mar has me as hard as a high school freshman. I begin to fantasize about what it would be like to come directly inside of her, passionately.
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yeah. I have an IUD,” she pants.
“Good, because I don’t have a condom, and if I’m being truthful, I hate the fuckers. Now, wall or bed?”
She blinks several times before coming up with, “You choose.”
I lean in and kiss her soft lips for the first time. We both moan. “Wall it is,” I say into her lips, refusing to back away from them even an inch. At this moment, I would be content with just falling asleep with our lips touching. Which I know is completely impossible, but fuck, when I’m horny, I can’t think straight. Real life disappears for a moment.
I circle an arm around her and back her from the kitchen down the hallway. I turn her so that her back is against the wall, and while keeping my lips on hers, I trace her collarbone with my fingertips.
I lean back and make sure to make eye contact when I tell her, “I want to drown in you, Mar. Just fucking drown in you.” I want her to know I mean every word.
I drop to my knees in front of her, and she says, “I haven’t shaved.”
I pull her underwear down to her knees and take a look at what her version of I haven’t shaved is… She looks like she has a five o’clock shadow. There’s enough to prove she’s of age and a consenting adult. I love a woman who isn’t afraid to be her own person and leave pubic hair. “Your pussy is fucking hot, and I wouldn’t care if you were rocking a seventies bush. I’d still lick you like you’re my favorite flavor of ice cream.”
She bends forward slightly causing her pink panties to fall past her calves to the floor before she kicks them off.
“Now what?” she pants.
“Make sure your back is up against the wall good.”
She does as ordered and I pull one of her legs up and bend it before resting it on my shoulder. I grasp her hips on each side and lean forward to learn her scent. There it is, honeysuckle. I nuzzle my nose into the crease of her right hip as she writhes against my hands, urging me to do something more, but I’m going to take my time.
I run my nose across the bottom of her abdomen. Back and forth three times before kissing the inside of the leg that’s draped over my shoulder. Her hands find the top of my head. She doesn’t push it any certain way, but I sense she wants to lead me to her sweet spot.
My lips continue to kiss her thigh, moving to her inner thigh and then I lick her inner thigh from bottom to top.
She hums, “Mmm,” in response to my tongue, so I do it again.
I let my arousal get the better of me, and I touch her because I have to know what she feels like. I insert one finger inside of her. She is warm, inviting, and slick. I curl my finger and move it quickly. She responds by tugging my hair. She likes it.
“Oh my god, I think you could make me come with just your finger, Sihn.”
I want to taste her orgasm. I want her to come on my face, my hand, and on my dick. I want it all, but I can’t have it all at once.
While I continue stroking her from the inside, I kiss her sweet spot and then give it a lick. Warm fluid leaks down my finger, but she hasn’t come yet. I suction my mouth to her apex as my finger does its work and then she clamps down on my finger from the inside as she detonates into bliss and gives out a sudden scream.