Erotic Story: Deadline (Intermezzo 2)

Me, when you're holding out on me.

Me, when you’re holding out on me.

 

There was a time I would have looked back to lock eyes with the beefy young man with the sun tanned baby face and the perfectly groomed black hair. I would have even allowed his friend to point that tattooed elbow in my direction, leaning sideways onto his chair, hovering between our tables. Maybe I would make a joke to the inked guy, but only to immediately connect with the handsome young man. Everything about him breathed cougar hunter. He would take the bait.
But instead I took a mouthful of Chardonnay and wished Ivy had not gone to the toilet, leaving me a sitting duck for male attention. I shielded with my phone, pretending to be texting. There was a Whatsapp from Rutger which I answered, and then I sent one to Biggie. A question about something practical but with a sexual reference so strong I felt a sudden warmth between my legs.
Big came online immediately and answered in a business-like fashion, with a kiss smiley. I put the phone down with a sigh and saw Ivy return from the loo. She took the wine the waiter had brought in her absence.
“To what shall we toast?” she cheerfully asked.
“I already drank half of mine,” I apologized.
She took a sip. “How are things between you and Big?”
“Just normal.” And I realized how ridiculous this was for two people having hardcore good sex less than two months ago.
“That bad, huh? Did you have vanilla sex?”
I washed the last wine down. “Don’t be ridiculous”
That was the disturbing thing: on the surface nothing had changed.
“Are you still breaking up with him this weekend?”
“Of course not. Our deadline has not brought anything I hoped for.”

Somewhere in the process of Big struggling, of Big not deciding, of Big not seeing that we were obviously made for each other and that his marriage was doomed, somewhere in there I decided I would do the dirty work for him.
“Let’s set an expiration date,” I suggested. “Like in 6 weeks. That way you don’t have to decide anything and I don’t get frustrated.”
Big had wondered if a planned ending of our affair would work. But I assured him I had done this before, and that it was a drama-free solution for both of us.
“But we still have your whole bucket list,” he remarked. That was true. My biggest sexual dreams, unfulfilled.
“Well better not waste time then,” I had smiled, looking forward to six weeks of sexual slavery and Biggie stretching my consent to the utmost limits. But instead our sex menu had been cleaned up. The most vulnerable sex acts quietly disappeared, along with the intimacy they nourished.
“Makes sense,” Ivy said. “He’s retreating.”
“You don’t understand,” I explained. “Big always has great sex before a break up. He pushes how far he can go sexually. He will drain her down to the last drop, told me so himself.”
Ivy gave me a wide smile. “That’s when he wants to break up. Not when you want to break up.”
My jaw dropped and I gazed at her.
“I thought it was because I had sex with Rutger,” I disclosed.
Ivy shrugged. “Well that probably didn’t help. But that’s not what’s causing this. Big is worried he’ll get hurt. You know what that means right?”
But I was unclear about everything.
“It means Mr. Big is in love with you.”

 

(real ;)) Erotic Stories in this series:
The Biggie
Credit
(Intermezzo)
The Bucket List
The Major League

 

Erotic Story: The Major League

It’s just sex. That’s what I keep telling myself, and that’s what keeps popping up. Her legs pulled up, her face close to orgasm. Or her despair when she took it doggy style. The tears were real, but her hips were arching up towards me. The maddening horniness of the darkest corners of her mind. Just sex. [...]

Erotic Story: The Bucket List

I made notes to write this story, about our most carefree lighthearted date. What the name was of that fancy Italian coffee Big always orders, and that I keep forgetting. His admiration for a cute elderly couple that was having lunch two tables further down. “And they still dress up. Even after a life-time together.” That I suggested to go over to his place for tea and a cookie to go, and how one of the last things he’d say when he showed me out was that at least he now knew what I meant with a cookie-to-go. How we had inspired sex, and funny conversations and how he threw a glance at the door when I said I couldn’t imagine having sex with refined people. As if he expected a well-mannered suitor to walk into his apartment, and spoil all the fun. But the truth is, I think you would not believe any of it. [...]

Erotic Story (Intermezzo)

Over a month since Big had shown interest, and it was getting on Lauren’s nerves. The pacifying effect of his “attempts” to see her on weeknights, when she taught yoga till 10.pm and was pressed to go home to take care of her four-hour-feeding interval sick cat, the charm of those attempts was wearing off. He knew very well she wouldn’t make it. And every time he then told her they would “see how the weekend turned out” she was hurt because she was apparently no longer worth planning in advance for. And the next Tuesday or Wednesday he’d run the same scenario all over again. [...]

Erotic Story: Credit

She never asked why he didn’t leave his wife. Cheaters always marry the sweet ones, angelic beings, victims. An unearthly status that grows with every childbirth she suffers, with every holiday he neglects, and that blinds him with guilt every time he cheats on her. Lauren assumed his marriage had been his final hope of becoming a better man, and now his wife was his penance for having failed miserably. Being torn apart by guilt was his punishment for being the bad guy when she would be eternally holy, above suspicion. [...]

Erotic Story: The Biggie

His penis had been larger than anticipated. “And you’re so virile!” she had exclaimed when she had witnessed how much condom interventions and sex negotiations his hard-on could take without giving in as much as a millimeter. After an orgasm he was back up in less than 15 minutes. “I only get this with black guys!” She was just in time to keep herself from adding “in their twenties”. [...]

50 Shades of Stoya

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