Archive | November 30, 2014

Snowed – Part 10

snowed cover image for blogMike is on a quest to find his Mystery Date’s name. He decides to visit the men in the complex who had been at the party. He figures asking the women would be a sure fire way to get himself in a lot of trouble.

The only one who wasn’t there was Jaqwan, Tim’s roommate, but I could always ask him later.

With them, I did go into some detail. Normally, I don’t do that, but since none of them knew her either, it seemed more or less okay to talk about our encounter more explicitly. They had all forgotten the football game. We continued to talk about it about twenty minutes, then my cell rang.

“Yeah?” I answered without looking at the ID.

“Hey, Mike.” It was Deirdre. “You busy?”

“Nope.” I waved to the guys, walking out the door. “Why?”

“Cause I’m banging on your front door and no one is answering.”

“I’m across the way. Hang on. Be there in a sec.”

I put on a burst of speed and nearly ran Deidre down as I slid around the side of my building, hitting a patch of ice that had formed under the snow. She caught my arm, steadying me.

“Come in. Want some coffee?”

She held up a thermos and two thermal, ceramic mugs. “I brought hot chocolate. Not much for coffee. My mom owns the coffee shop down the road, Coffee Haven.”

“Really? They have amazing stuff. Someone gave me a gift certificate last year. Didn’t know she was your mom though.”

“Why, did you hit on her?”

That caught me by surprise. I nearly choked on my hot chocolate. In point of fact, I nearly always flirt with clerks and waitresses. It’s something I learned from my old man. A little well placed, sincere flattery gets you better service. Find something you can compliment and do so. Every woman likes to feel pretty and desirable. Give them some extra attention and they will give you some.

“That’s a yes if ever I saw it.” Deidre laughed. “No wonder Mom thinks you’re so cute. She’s a little old for you, though.”

“Yeah, well. . . . Age is a relative thing, right?”

“I’m glad you think so,” she replied, making herself more comfy on the couch.

I’d just put my foot in my ass totally up the ankle. Here I’d been telling her I was too old for her, and I said something like that. Way to make yourself look stupid, Mike.

“Look, Deidre. . . .”

“Don’t even start. I like you, Mike. I’ve liked you a really long time. I think you’re hot and sexy and everything a girl can want from a man. Remember our discussions about literature? I learned more from you about Shakespeare than all my teachers combined. You’re smart and funny and gorgeous.”

“D. You’re a sweet kid. I liked our talks too. That doesn’t mean I want to go to bed with you.”

“Why not?” Her eyes flashed at me dangerously. “Am I ugly? Don’t I interest you?”

“Oh, you interest me, alright. You’re beautiful, intelligent, sexy as three kinds of hell. . . .”

“Then what’s wrong with me?”

“Not a damn thing. Except I’d feel like some kind of lecherous old man if I took you to bed.”

“Why can’t you say the words, Mike?” She scooted closer to me. “Can’t you say make love?”

Honestly, I couldn’t. I could not force myself to say that or a dozen other things that were jumbled in my mind right then. I made some kind of sound, sort of a cross between a moan and a bleat when she leaned over and kissed me hard on the mouth. She pressed her body tightly against mine.

She sure didn’t feel like a little girl under that bulky sweater and tight, black leggings. She felt like a woman. A really voluptuous woman with sweet breasts that a man could bury his face in. Her thighs were tight, her ass firm. I could picture myself between those sweet cheeks, rock hard, plowing deep. You’d think after the night I’d had, I wouldn’t be thinking about sex with Deidre. Or maybe it was the night of debauchery that made me want her that much more? I really wasn’t thinking straight.

“I want you, Mike. I want you to make me a woman,” she moaned as she flattened me on the couch beneath her.

“What?” My sex clouded mind had caught something significant there. “Make you a what?”

“A woman. I want you to be my first.”

“Whoa now,” I said, sitting up.

Whatever fantasies I’d had about her suddenly faded to nothing like smoke in a strong wind.

“You’re a virgin?”

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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