It’s a chilly night, so I’ve buried myself in my bed, topped with extra blankets and my baggiest sweats to sleep in. Two people could fit in my sweats, they’re that big. They are mighty comfy, though.
After two rings, Slim finally picks up. “Lyric, you okay?” He answers in a rather, low, groggy and plain as day, hot voice. I’ve woken him up.
Oops.
“I seriously need to get a cat,” I huff out. Even though I want to be with Slim, I wish I had gone to look for a cat.
“Yeah, we’ll get you one,” he says as he’s yawning.
“Sorry, I woke you. You said to call if I couldn’t sleep. Well…I can’t sleep. I don’t mean to be all whiny and needy like a baby - crap…I
am
being whiny and needy like a baby. Forget I called.” I am being such a babble-head, I’m annoying myself and shouldn’t have called him. This is silly!
“Stop. Don’t hang up,” he quickly responds. “Stop talking shit about yourself. You’re not whiny or needy.”
“I beg to differ,” I mutter. My intentions of calling him are not working. I am such a goof. I shouldn’t be this way with him. It’s just Slim - well, the new Slim. I have to go back to that place, deep inside myself, and remember we are friends, first and foremost.
Relax, Lyric.
“Let’s talk. I’ll help you through this.”
I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to be alone. “I hate being alone - I mean…I’m usually good at being alone, but the last few nights, I’ve gotten kind of used to having you next to me. You’ve been like my security blanket,” I quietly mention, picking off the lint from my sweatshirt.
“Security blanket, huh?” I can sense a smile and it helps me relax.
“Yeah. Can I come over?” He doesn’t respond right away, which gets me to think he doesn’t really want me over. What is going on? I interrupt the silence, “I know you said you wanted a night to yourself, and all, but…”
“Come over,” he answers in a serious tone.
“Yeah?” I whisper out.
“Yeah. Let me be your security blanket for another night.”
Goosies appear on my skin. He wants to be my security blanket! Okay, I’m ready -
so
ready. “I promise this will be the last time. Tomorrow I am seriously going out and getting that furry companion.”
I can hear him biting back a laugh. “Okay. See you when you get here.”
I quickly put my hair up in a messy bun, slip my feet in my slippers, grab a small bag and race to my car. I can’t stop from grinning. Just knowing he’s going to wrap his muscled arms around me again, accelerates my heart rate. I feel like a teen, sneaking out my house to meet up with my boyfriend. I vow not to overthink anything. I am going with my gut this time and hoping Slim is on the same path.
It was freezing cold outside, definitely unusual for San Diego. I couldn’t wait to get inside Slim’s covers and get warm and toasty again.
My hands are like ice when Slim answers the door. I blow warm air into them as I enter his foyer. The inside of his house is dark, with a faint of light coming through the kitchen.
“Thanks for the midnight intrusion,” I mention.
“You’re never an intrusion, now get your ass to my bed,” he responds in a gruff tone. My body just kind of froze for a minute. I am quite turned on, shocked he said what he said so…
alpha
.
He starts to laugh, “You know what I mean, you filthy woman,” and leads me toward his bedroom, with an arm draped across my shoulders. “What’s with the big sweatshirt and sweatpants? It’s not
that
cold.”
“Are you kidding me, it’s freezing out there!” I raise my voice, pointing outside.
He doesn’t listen to me and proceeds to be strangely bossy. “Take them off, I’ll give you a t-shirt to wear.”
I put my small bag on the floor next to my side of the bed. “Look who’s thinking filthy now,” I cock an eyebrow, grinning.
He returns the cocked eyebrow, “I mean, I’ll keep you warm in my arms, without all that stuffing.”
I look down at my sweats and smirk. “I like my stuffing and I’ll keep it on, thank you.”
“Just sayin’, you’re gonna get hot next to me.”
I couldn’t tell if that was a hidden, sexual response, or if I would actually get hot laying next to him. I’m choosing the first one, because that is a
Slim play factor
. I continue to smirk and play along with him. “I’ll survive.” We both climb into bed. Slim decides to yank his t-shirt up and over his head. He throws it on the floor, causing my panties to get wet. Good heaven’s, me. His chest.
Yesss sir.
He slides in between the sheets and pulls them up to his waist. Imagining him naked is turning me on, I hope I don’t have drool coming out of my mouth. He turns on his side, rests his elbow into his pillow, and leans his face onto his knuckles. Realizing I am staring, I proceed to scrunch myself down into the sheets as well. I turn my body toward his, and shift my hand under my pillow. I think he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s doing a very good job at it. He’s forcing me to want him even more so. Him with no shirt on is definitely making me hot. Noticing his mood has changed since this morning, I say, “You seem in a better mood than you were earlier today.”
He closes his eyes for second. “I was an ass, sorry.”
I allow his apology to sink in before I say, “That picture really upset you.”
“Wasn’t the picture.”
Confused, I crease my brows together. “Oh. Then what?”
“It’s not important,” ditching my question. “Turn around so I can spoon you.”
He’s back to being bossy,
and
he wants to spoon me. Pretending his command bothers me, I mutter out, “Good grief.”
“None of that good grief, bullshit, Charlie. You need to sleep.”
After I flip myself around,
and
after he pulls me up against his chest with his hand (and might I just add, with that comes my butt lining up against his very noticeable hard-on) I am not able to settle down. How can I when my mind is certainly set on other things besides sleep?
I’ve always had a thing for Slim’s past-times stories, from when he was a kid. Hearing the stories takes me to another place, if that makes any sense. They make me happy. “Then, how about a bedtime story to help me?” I snuggle up a little closer and carefully place my hand on top of his. Without even thinking, we lock fingers.
He chuckles, “I thought me being a cuddle buddy, slash security blanket was enough?”
“They are, but one of your stories wouldn’t hurt,” I bite my lip, smiling.
“Ah, okay, fine,” with a hint of playfulness, he squeezes me. “Let me see…oh, here’s one.” He clears his throat first, then begins. “My dad had this one customer who he became good friends with. They hung out almost every Friday night at our place, watching a game, catching up on the week, that kind of stuff. But with financial shit happening he moved away to his family’s farm in North Carolina. Let me back track for minute. Every summer my dad would take me and Max on road trips; we’d go camping, fishing, visit state parks. We looked forward to these summer trips because my dad was always pretty busy during the year even though summers were his busiest. He’d take two weeks out of the summer to spend time with us. So after Dad’s buddy moved away he asked my dad to visit his farm.”
I tilt my head up to see his eyes. “Did your mom go with you?”
“Nah, she didn’t appreciate the outdoors like we did.”
“That’s sad.”
“We didn’t know any different. Having these trips bonded the three of us.”
I smile. “That’s sweet.” I envy his relationship with his dad. My parents’ never took us camping or did anything in the great outdoors. My mom’s way of camping was retreating at a resort in Colorado surrounded by trees, pools and spas. Not a lot to do as a kid. Just like Slim, I didn’t know any different, but I’d certainly would like a try at camping someday.
Slim continues, “Yeah, so one summer we drove to NC. I was about eight or nine, Max twelve, something like that. The farm was massive. There were acres of hills that surrounded the tiny house that sat in the middle of all this amazing nature; a man made pond, shed house and barn were on this property. It was kickass cool,” he describes excitedly. “Max and I couldn’t wait to go exploring. Every day we’d climb up those hills and walk along the path that led around the property. But one day Max decided he wanted to roll down the hill, because that’s what kids do, and what kid wouldn’t want to roll down a big-ass hill? Being as he was the oldest, I made him go first. Now, something you gotta know about these hills.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re full of cow pies.”
I gasp, “Oh no, gross!” Then I giggle.
Slim laughs too. “Yeah. Cow shit everywhere. While Max was prepared to roll down, he tripped, fell and rolled all the way down the hill and landed smack on a big pile of shit.”
I boost up from our “spoon” and laugh even harder. “Shut up! Oh, my God!”
“I couldn’t stop laughing for days,” he continues laughing. “The funniest thing I’d ever seen.”
“That’s hilarious! Your poor brother.” I can’t stop laughing, my stomach hurts.
“Held that shit over his head for a long time.”
“Pun intended?”
“Fuck yeah,” still laughing.
After I catch my breath and wipe my watery eyes, I settle back inside my spoon position. Slim immediately links our fingers together, like it’s something we do all the time. “You must really miss him.”
“I do. I really do. It’s hard not being able to joke with him about the past or share the future. Sucks balls.”
This makes me so sad for Slim. Losing a brother at such a young age - at any age - is devastating. “Wish I could have met him.”
“Me too. He would have fallen in love with you.”
I don’t want to believe that’s true, so I chuckle out, “No he would not have.”
“Oh yeah, he would’ve,” he lightly argues, then kisses the top of my head. “You were his type. Loved the blondes. Guess we had that in common.”
I digest on what he just admitted and smile about it. “Thanks for the story.”
“You’re welcome. You’ll have to tell me a story one of these days.”
Ha, that thought is hysterical. “Believe me, they’re boring.”
“Doubt it. Even with your
nerdtivity
, I bet you had some funny shit happen to you.”
Nerdtivity
? Slim and his made up words. I giggle, “Possibly.” After Slim turns off his bedside lamp, he cradles me back in. I think about his mixed message about him liking blondes. It gets me gooey inside. “Blondes, huh?”
“Yeah…with blue eyes.”
Oh my.
I gulp back his words. My heart starts to pound a little harder when I feel the tip of Slim’s fingers starting to explore. Here we go. No stopping it this time. I am going all in. “Slim?” I whisper.
The glide of his fingers are beginning to make their way down my
stuffing
- meaning the waistband of my sweatpants - when he suddenly stops. “Sorry,” he quietly responds.
With urgency, I place my hand on top of his. “No. Keep touching me.”
He asks with fire in his voice, “Yeah?” feeling the breath of his words trail along side of my cheek.
I nod and pray to God I don’t regret this moment. The need to feel a release from the pressure building inside, is unlike anything I have ever felt. “Please.”
And so it begins.
HOLY FUCK.
SHE WANTS ME
. She wants this to happen. My fingers are itching to make her scream my name, so I’m diving in and there’s no turning back. So I inch my way into the waistband of her sweatpants, then trickle inside her panties. She has cleaned shaven her area -
wow
. My cock is raging hard right now, and I know she can feel it twitch against her ass. She’s squirming, squeezing onto the sheets of the bed and breathing heavily. I tighten my hold around her body, bringing my arm around her chest, and travel my hand up inside her sweatshirt. She’s got a tiny cami underneath, and is braless.
Fucking magical
. I finally get a feel of her melon sized tits. Not wasting anymore time, I take hold of her left nipple and pinch the bud, as I slowly dip my finger inside her heated pussy.
Damn, it’s on fire
! As if Lyric was holding her breath, she blows out a gust of air, along with a sexy-ass moan. If my dick wasn’t hard enough before, it’s like a metal rod, now. However, I couldn’t care less about me. All I want to do is make her feel good, and I sure as hell intend on doing that.