I have a history of picking the wrong guy. Gay? Player? Momma’s boy? Check, check and check.
Now I can’t stop fantasizing about one of the customers at the coffee shop I work at between classes. It’s just a harmless crush, right? It’s not like I ever see this guy outside of the coffee shop. It’s not like I’m going to see him while attempting to get birth control at the student clinic. While wearing a paper gown. While sitting on an exam table. Because he’s the doctor. Shoot. Me.
But what if, for once, the man I’ve had the dirtiest, most scandalous fantasies about turned out to be everything but wrong?
He turns to me with a sly grin. “You’ve never had sex in here.”
Obviously I haven’t. He’s the only person I’ve had sex with and that’s all been at his place. “No.”
“We can rectify that now.” He grins.
Oh, that’s what was on this mind? He wants to be the one to fuck me in my dorm room? “Yes, please.”
“Yes, please?” he repeats back to me. “So polite, you little hussy,” he says as he covers the three steps that separate us. “Should I be polite?” He bends and kisses me under my left ear, not waiting for an answer. “Come on, Sophie, let me make love to you, baby. I’ll make it good for you, I swear.” He’s kissing me along my jaw and keeping his hands chastely on my hips, over my pajamas. I’m not sure what is happening right now. “I’ll just put the tip in, okay?”
I laugh. He’s giving me clichéd college sex lines.
“I’ll still respect you in the morning, baby.”
I’m laughing when he covers my mouth with his. He keeps whispering ridiculous lines to me, but his mouth and hands are their usual Luke perfection. I play along because it’s funny, but it’s hot too. Also, I love it when he loses focus and smirks at something I’ve said. He takes his time, probably more time than he’s ever needed to take.
“Can I take off your shirt?” he asks, as if there’s a possibility I might say no.
Jesus, yes! I want to scream at him. He’s got me so worked up and we’ve still got all our clothes on. Heavy petting is bullshit when you’ve already ridden the bull. I unbutton his pants and ask for permission to “touch it.” This earns me a laugh and I think I might have him then, ready to end this game and pound the fuck out of me on my twin-sized bed, but no. He regains composure and guides my hand up and down the length of him.
“I want you to be my first, Luke. I know you’ll make it good.” I am laying it on now. “I’ve wanted you inside of me since the first time I saw you.” It’s getting harder to speak with his hands down my pants. “Your fingers, God knows how I loved watching them as you brought your coffee cup to your perfect lips. I’d go home after my shift and lie in this bed and touch myself while thinking about you. Before the clinic, before I even knew your name, I’d lie right here thinking about you while making myself come.”