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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Why did he always do this? Paula wondered. Couldn’t he tell she didn’t like it?

“Open it,” Jordan urged her. He held out the box, wrapped in glossy red paper, and grinned at her.

No, she thought. Of course he couldn’t tell.

“You already gave me a present, silly,” she told him. “And I love it.” She held out her arm with the thin gold bracelet on it. “And a lovely thoughtful dinner…” she trailed off.

“This is an extra present,” he told her. “Kind of for both of us.”

She stifled a sigh and took the box. Her underwear drawer already held too many of these “extra” presents. Fantasy lingerie always made her feel like she was wearing somebody else’s clothes. Presumably, she thought wryly, that was what he liked about it.

This box was too heavy to be lingerie, though, and it was the wrong shape, more like a small shoe box. She glanced at him and then turned it over and tore away the paper. The box was dark brown and could have contained a his and hers pen and pencil set but that seemed unlikely.

There was a rocket-ship logo in the middle of the lid. “Special Effects,” she read aloud.

He positively chortled. “Open it,” he said again.

She lifted the top.

“It’s a dildo,” he told her.

Yes, Paula thought. She’d figured that out. She inspected it gravely. It was, she had to admit, quite remarkable looking, long and thick and so elaborately modeled that she was surprised that its veins weren’t pulsing. Of course, it was a garish shade of green, but somehow that didn’t detract from its realism.

“Pick it up,” Jordan said. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d rather not touch the eerie thing so she pried it out of the box. How do you hold a disembodied cock? It felt odd in her fingers, yielding and resisting in a way that could have been like flesh but was not. More like gelatin? Creepy anyway, definitely creepy.

It was also large. Paula was vague about size ranges of human penises but this was much bigger than the ones she’d had experience with. It lay in her hand, neither rigid nor flaccid, like a toy snake waiting to be thrust into an unsuspecting face. She did not find it in the least bit arousing.

“Do you like it?” he asked. He gazed at her with the blend of apprehension and excitement that always reminded Paula of the golden retriever she’d had when she was a kid – that “are we going to the park or going to the vet?” look that disarmed her every time.

She smiled at him. “Of course I like it,” she said. “It’s so…” she searched for the right adjective.

“Shall we… uh, give it a test drive?” he asked slyly.

No, she thought. I’m not putting that thing… She put it down on the dresser.

“I don’t think we need it tonight,” she whispered. She put both arms around his neck and pulled him close, her lips soft against his. “Do we?” she asked, then kissed him again before he could answer.

He made a contented sound. His tongue darted into her mouth and she leaned her body against his, her breasts against him.

“It might be fun,” he mumbled.

“Next time,” she told him lightly. “Tonight I just want you.”

His arms circled her waist and then one of his hands snaked inside her blouse and up her back to her bra clasp.

“Just a sec,” she whispered. She unfastened the bra and twisted it down one arm and out her sleeve. “There,” she said and smiled at him. His arms went around her again, one hand up her back and the other sidling up to cup and stroke her breasts. Slow down, she thought. She pulled away again, still smiling.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” she said. “But…”

“But what?”

She struggled for the best way to say it. “Maybe less with the fingers,” she said finally. “It tickles.”

“Oh,” he said.

“Here,” she said. “Let’s get undressed and just touch each other a bit.”

“Sure,” he agreed, but he sounded frustrated.

“It’ll be nice,” she assured him.

And it was quite nice. She lay on her back and cradled his head on her chest, feeling the heat of his cock against her thighs. He kissed her breasts tenderly, and she felt herself warming up a bit.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I need you.”

“Yes,” she told him. “I need you too.” She stroked the back of his neck. She tried to find the feeling she’d had in the restaurant at dinner, the glow of the candlelight on his face, the rich warmth of the monkfish tail in dashi broth. The box with the beautiful bracelet. Champagne to toast her birthday, chardonnay with the fish. Chocolate cake but no candle, she hated when waitresses sang Happy Birthday.

He lifted his head and looked at her. “What would you like?” he asked.

“This is nice,” she told him. She stroked one of his shoulders. She shouldn’t have had whipped cream with the cake, it would make her fat. No, she thought. Don’t go there. His hand on hers kadıköy escort across the table, his leg against hers underneath it. Her body warming to his touch. Waiting silently for the cab, her hand in his, wanting the ride to just be over so they could be together, lying naked the way they were now.

He moved up and leaned over her, lowered his mouth to hers. “You’re so sexy,” he murmured. His cock was against her now, she parted her legs and felt it against her entrance.

“Are you ready?” he whispered.

“Almost,” she said. She reached down and gripped his cock, The heat of it was always startling, as if all the fire in his body had gone into forging it. She rubbed it against her cunt. In the cab he’d had an erection and he’d silently pulled her hand into his lap so she could feel it.

“Now?” he asked,

“Sure,” she said.

He shifted position and eased himself into her. “Oh,” he moaned. He smiled down at her. “You’re so sexy,” he said.

“You’re sexy too,” Paula told him.

“Is it nice?” he asked. “Feeling me inside you?” His body rocked slowly.

“So nice.” She wondered if anyone had ever told him it wasn’t.

He sighed. “It’s really nice for me,” he said. “It’s so good being … together. The whole way home in the taxi all I could think about was being inside you.”

“I could tell,” she said.

His tempo was picking up. “You grabbed him,” he said. “Were you thinking about it too?”

“Mmm,” she said. She raised her hips off the bed, rising to meet his thrusts.

He leaned down and kissed her hard. “So sexy,” he said.

“Fuck me,” she said. He loved when she said that.

Suddenly, his hips were bucking and his cock was bouncing into her and pulling back, not quite all the way out. “God,” he cried. “I’m fucking you!”

“God,” she echoed and gripped his back.

“Jesus,” he roared. Hot fluid flooded into her. He gasped, then collapsed, panting.

*

She woke to the sound of a spoon in a cereal bowl. She opened her eyes and looked at the clock. Wasn’t it Sunday? Why was he up so early? She closed her eyes. Clink, clink, went the spoon. A pause. Probably a swig of orange juice. She heard the tap of the glass being put down on the kitchen table.

Why was he awake? He’d woken her up ridiculously early on the weekend, the day after her birthday. It was kind of irritating. She heard the drag of his chair and the clatter of his shoes on the kitchen floor. Cycling shoes. Water ran in the sink, then more footsteps, and the distant tick-tick of a derailleur as he rolled his bike down the hallway. The bang of the front door and she was alone.

That’s right, she thought. He was meeting the guys for a long bike ride. Forty miles? Something like that. She sighed. He hadn’t meant to wake her up. Nobody’s perfect.

Of course now that she was awake she had to pee. She stumbled out of bed and down the hall. Maybe she’d be able to get back to sleep. Maybe. It completely sucked that when she woke up early and had nothing specific to do, she was just up, while on a work day it took a shower and a double coffee to drag her awake.

But on the way back to bed she caught sight of the box on her dresser.

“Special Effects,” she said. Kind of silly. And a rocket ship on a dildo box? Seriously? She opened the lid and looked down at it.

It didn’t look as weird as it had last night. Granted it was still a largish bright green plastic phallus but it seemed almost commonplace in the dim natural light seeping through the curtains, just another knickknack among the trinkets and jewelry on her dresser. Probably all the wine last night had befuddled her.

Looking at the dildo reminded her of last night. It would be nice if he could just fucking slow down once in a while and let her catch up. Did he even notice that she didn’t come? She took the dildo out of the box and hefted it, circling the thick shaft with her hand. The ridge around the head was curved into a dolphin’s smile.

“It is my birthday present,” she said aloud. Even though Jordan had said it was for both of them, why should she share? She snorted. Poor Jordan would just have to miss out.

She crawled back under the sheets. Why was she nervous? She’d never used a dildo before but nobody was watching her to see if she was doing it right. She could… she rested the dildo on her thigh. Let’s just see how it goes. The dildo felt nice, just resting there. How would it feel inside her? Would it be like a cock? She opened her legs slightly, then took the dildo and pushed it gently against her entrance. It felt big, bigger than it had looked. The thing, she thought, was to touch her clit while she moved the dildo. It felt weird, she’d never masturbated with anything inside her.

She pushed the dildo a little further in and touched maltepe escort the tip of her clitoris. Relax, she told herself. Let your mind wander.

—

The man was kneeling naked on the arms of the big padded chair, leaning forward, looming over her. “Take it,” he whispered hoarsely.

She looked up at him. His face was small and far away, floating somewhere up there beyond his organ. She reached up and put her hands on the cock. He moaned and his hips twitched. “Now,” he growled.

She took him into her mouth and ran her tongue slowly up its length to the tip. He shuddered. “Fuck,” he moaned. She cupped his balls with one hand and held the shaft with the other. Her tongue swirled delicately around its head.

“Fuck,” he repeated. “Yes.”

She lowered her mouth and took in as much of him as she could, then drew her head up slowly. When she reached the tip, she again swirled her tongue around the head. It was salty, hot and salty.

His hips were undulating now. He crouched down, pulling his cock away and kissed her on the mouth. “I want to fuck,” he whispered.

Yes, she wanted that too. She was ready. Plus, her jaw was starting to ache. He hopped off the chair.

She was still dressed. He reached out and pulled her out of the chair, his mouth against hers and his cock against her belly. While he kissed her, he unbuttoned her blouse with one hand and squeezed her ass with the other. Now the blouse was open to her waist, her bra was unfastened. She was still kind of dressed, but he was unzipping her skirt with his ass-gripping hand. Her head was swimming. The skirt fell in a puddle of black fabric, then her panties on top of it.

He sat down on the chair and pulled on her hands. Obediently she crawled up onto his lap, onto his prick, felt it against her cunt, felt the pressure as it pushed up inside her.

“Oh,” she cried. She leaned forward against him. Now his hands were squeezing her shoulders and his mouth had found hers again. She rocked slightly so his cock pushed against her clit. Something was going to happen, something was going to happen soon. Soon. Soon. Oh, almost. Almost! Now!

He burst inside her at just the right moment. She tore her mouth away from his and wailed, slamming against his chest. Her whole body was moving, arms flailing, hips writhing. It couldn’t end, she wouldn’t couldn’t let it end, his cock, his come boiling inside her forever and ever amen.

—

Paula opened her eyes, breathing raggedly. Christ, she thought. That had been. Oh my God. She brushed a damp strand of hair away from her eyes. She’d never, ever felt. Wow.

Was that a dream? Some kind of sexy hallucination? She’d been awake but…

The dildo was in her hand, not inside her anymore. She lifted it up and looked at it curiously. It was shiny from having been inside her and the ridge that had looked like a smile was just a curve now. It didn’t look friendly anymore, but not creepy either. It was just a green plastic dildo.

*

She got up and showered. After she did her hair and got dressed she picked up the dildo. She took it into the bathroom and washed and dried it, then put it back in its box and put the box in her underwear drawer, all without looking at it closely.

It was cool outside. Automatically she started walking up the street towards her usual coffee spot. She ordered her coffee and croissant and bought a paper. She spread the paper on her table and stared at it without taking any of it in. Her mind kept running through the scene in the chair, the girl who was her, the man, and the insane sex they had had. She broke off a corner of her croissant and popped it in her mouth.

What was wrong, what was bothering her? Having an amazing orgasm first thing on a Sunday morning didn’t really seem like a problem, it kind of made up for the perfunctory fucking she’d had last night. It had become a habit, getting herself off when Jordan’s attentions had been less than satisfactory. He wasn’t the worst boyfriend she’d ever had from that point of view but, well, nobody’s perfect.

Her phone started ringing. Jordan? No, it was Marcia, one of her co-workers at the pharmacy. She sighed. This could only mean one thing.

“Hi, Paula?” Marcia’s voice, nasal and slightly breathless.

“Yeah?” Paula said.

“Can you do me a favor? I mean, we’ll swap but…”

Paula dipped a piece of croissant in her coffee. It left a buttery ring on the surface. “You want me to take your shift?”

“Yeah,” Marcia said. “Unless you’re like busy or something.”

Paula sighed. “Sure,” she said glumly. “No problem.”

“I really appreciate it,” Marcia continued. “You see…”

And she was off. Marcia couldn’t ask for a favor without escort bayan providing an explanation of what had led up to the request, usually in mortifying medical or personal detail. Paula was only half listening, Someone was sick. Marcia’s boyfriend? What was his name?

“Poor guy was up puking half the night,” Marcia continued. “I didn’t feel like he should eat anything this morning but he insisted and of course he barfed that up too.”

Paula grimaced.

“Anyway,” Marcia said. “They’re fitting us in this morning. I’m so worried, he’s so old now that every time we go in I feel like they’ll say it’s no good, we’ll have to put him down.”

Not a boyfriend, Paula decided. “That’s tough,” she said. “Listen, I have to run. Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered. Stay home and take care of… him.”

“Thanks!” Marcia gushed. “You’re the best!”

*

Sunday shifts sucked. She was on her own and it seemed like half the city took a few minutes on Sunday to pick up a prescription. Of course, half of those people didn’t actually have prescriptions waiting for them – something had misfired in the bureaucracy and you couldn’t call doctors’ offices or insurance companies to investigate on a Sunday. All you could do was to smile apologetically and promise that someone would look into it tomorrow and be sure to give them a call. For the people who were down to their last Zoloft or Lipitor she could give them an emergency stash, making sure they understood that once the script was filled the quantity would be correspondingly reduced. That was another picnic, explaining to someone why they had only got 27 Zolofts when they had paid for thirty. But by 3:30 she only had half an hour to go and most of the Lipitor brigade had gone home to take naps and get ready for the early bird special at the diner.

“Excuse me.” Paula looked up from the computer. It was a guy, a young man. Curly dark hair, friendly blue eyes.

“Name?” Paula asked.

“Aaron,” he said.

“Last name?” she said with a hint of forced patience in her voice.

“I’m not here to pick up a prescription,” he said. He had a cute dimple on his chin when he smiled. “There’s a big line at the front, I just wanted to, can I pay for stuff back here?”

“Usually we only do that if you’re picking up a prescription,” Paula told him.

He was looking at the little sign next to the register. “How about if I get a flu shot?” he asked. “Does that count?”

Pauls didn’t want to give him a flu shot. Shots were the worst part of her job, even worse than snotty receptionists at doctors’ offices. “It’s okay,” she said. “I can ring you up.”

“No,” he said. “I should get one, my mom keeps bugging me about it. She had the flu last year, so everyone needs to get a shot.” He grinned at her. The dimple winked at her again.

“What did you want to pay for?” Paula asked.

He put a box of mints on the counter. “You know how to do the shots?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” she said, a little defensively.

“Let’s do it then,” he said, and started to roll up his sleeve.

“Wait,” she said. “You have to fill out these forms first. And then you go around behind that screen and wait for me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“It’s how we do it,” she told him severely.

She left him filling out the forms and went to get everything ready, then out the side door of the pharmacy enclosure and found him sitting at the table behind the screen, his left sleeve rolled up. A nicely muscled arm, not too hairy. She busied herself with latex gloves and alcohol swabs. He looked like he used his arms, and not just in the gym. Maybe he had a sailboat, he was nicely tanned.

No wedding ring.

“Is it painful?” he asked.

“Like any shot,” she said. “Not too bad.”

“Okay,” he said. He closed his eyes and, somewhat redundantly, turned his head away. “Warn me before you do it.”

“Okay,” she said. “On three. One, two…”

“Ow,” he said.

“I didn’t do it,” she protested.

He opened his eyes and swiveled to look at her. “Just practicing,” he said, flashing his dimple again.

She clucked. “One,” she said. “Two.”

“Owww,” he said. “You did it on two!”

“You threw my timing,” she told him. She smiled to herself and put a bandage on his arm, then started picking up the litter from the procedure. He stood up.

“Well, thanks,” he said. “Even if you did do me a grievous injury.”

“It was a pleasure,” she told him. “Don’t forget your mints.”

*

Jordan wasn’t in when she got home. What should she do now? She’d had a lazy Sunday planned for herself until Marcia had called but it was too late now to accomplish any serious idleness. A shower, she thought. And think of something to cook for dinner.

But standing there in the streaming water, she didn’t give much thought to dinner. Instead she was thinking about Aaron, the guy she’d given the shot to. Under emergency contact he’d listed his mother. Nosy, nosy, she chided herself. But she couldn’t help it, satisfying her curiosity was one of the few perks of the job. And she was often surprised by who people singled out as an emergency contact.

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