Khakis
By Gray Lily | November 10, 2009
The second time Ryan laid one hand against the small of my back and pushed the other against my cunt I made a dissenting noise and turned my hips from him.
Somehow I knew that I’d reached a line I wasn’t willing to cross. Not yet, not in this situation, not with him. I wasn’t going to let him in that far and I wasn’t going to fuck him. He acknowledged my preference by withdrawing his fingers and pressing his body fully against mine. I was reaching that shivery, shaky stage where I just wanted to lie down and be warm.
“Can you take these off, please?” I whispered, turning my breasts to him. My hair covered my face and I was still leaning over the side of the bed.
“Of course. Are they starting to hurt?” he teased as he reached for the first one. I felt the warmth of his hand against my back and breathed with the pain I knew was coming. When they were off I collapsed against the bedspread while he tossed the toys aside, washed his hands, and climbed up onto my bed.
“Come here,” he said quietly, opening his arms to me. He was fully clothed - khaki pants, a blue polo shirt, and dress socks - and looked quite incongruous against my stack of soft sage green and baby blue pillows.
I crawled up next to him, fitting my legs under his, wrapping my arms around his chest, and snuggling my forehead against him.
“The only bad thing about doing this up here is that all of my blankets are downstairs,” I whispered.
“Are you cold? I’ll go get one,” he offered quickly.
“The gray one please, on the couch,” I suggested as he rolled away. I closed my eyes and hugged a pillow to my chest as I listened to him go downstairs. I was happy, floaty, and pleasantly tired.
Ryan returned and tucked himself next to me as he draped the blanket over both of us. I made one of my happy noises and smiled as his warmth settled into me.
“How are you? Did you enjoy that?” he asked. I laughed and nodded, trying to remember to stay present for the conversation I knew was bound to follow our playing. We’d both agreed that talking was necessary just for the simple reason that we’d only had one real, in-depth, one-on-one conversation in the entire six weeks we’ve known each other. Emails and quick chats had sufficed for most of our communication but I knew there was much more to be conveyed than could be written.
The next two hours were spent on my bed, wrapped around each other, talking about me, him, us, his wife, our kids, Chris, Jennifer, my nagging habit of cursing, and his poor opinion of his marriage. I stood true to my need to say what I was thinking, unwilling to say just what he wanted to hear or what might put me in the best light. I opened myself up and tried to allow the conversation to go where it would without worrying about what might end up happening. I needed to see what being myself felt like so I would know, when it came time to pull away from him, that I had been honest in my dealings with him and with myself.
Topics: Ryan, conversation, spanking |
November 11th, 2009 at 1:33 am
oh i am so happy to be back to reading these kinds of posts
i am smiling thanks
November 11th, 2009 at 2:26 pm
I’m so glad to hear you both are being honest; you know he’ll never leave his wife and this relationship is going nowhere. He knows he can play with you whenever he has some spare time to sneak away and eventually he’s going to fuck you. The good news is you will be spared hurt and pain once he goes back home to his wife and family and you are alone, since you’ve both been so up front with each other.
Thank goodness he’s not making promises he can’t and won’t keep, like Michael. Good for you, have fun!