We have to be ready by 7 to make our 7:30 reservation… Of course it’s 6:30 and I’m nowhere near ready. *smh* He is gone kill me. I quickly dry my glistening caramel skin off from my far too brief shower. Wrapping my towel around my waist, I rush out of the bathroom into the bedroom. There you sit… On the edge of the bed watching First Take reruns on ESPN, eat all my damn fresh cut pineapples. You glance at me, shake your head, and tell me to hurry because BLT is gonna be packed if we miss our reservation. I suck my teeth at you, and slide my towel off and onto the floor. Your eyes dart over to me and you bite your lip as you watch me lotion my legs, foot propped on the edge of the bed. I feel you get up from the bed, and before I can reach for my towel, you are behind me tracing my hands up the back of my calves to my thigh. You slowly kiss from the nape of my neck to my collar bone… I am breathless. You exhale heavily, as you run your hands up my is to my hips. I turn to face you, and you aggressively squeeze my ass. I grab the back of your head, and pull you in close to me… Kissing you deeply, savoring the taste of you. I reach down to grab your erection through your pants, ohhh my. “Hmmm… You feel like we might be late.” You laugh, reach down and grab my hand from your hard dick, slap my ass, and tell me to hurry up. Hmph.
I quickly finish lotioning my arms and stomach as you shower. I grab my grey lace thong and demi bra, and smirk to myself. You wanna play hardball, let’s play baby. I hear you open the bathroom door and I announce, “It’s 6:45, 15 mins to make it on time. You gonna be ready??” you raise an eyebrow and look at me… “Are you? I’ll be in the car before the rollers are out of your hair.” I roll my eyes at you, “Nigga, shut up. That’s a bet I’ll take.” I rush to grab my dress from the cleaners bag on the back of the door, and pause to watch as you lotion yourself with such precision and poise. You spray YSL L’Homme gently onto your neck and chest. Damn you smell so good. I pull out my calve length fitted cobalt dress, you love this dress. The cutouts at my waist accent my curvy bottom, and draw attention to my perky D cup breasts. I slip on my black platform pumps and snatch out my rollers in enough time to beat you to the door with my bag. “Looks like I’ve won.” I giggle… “If we’re late it’s all your fault.” You pull your polo over your head, and slide on your Balenciaga’s. “It was a tie, you can’t beat me… Remember that.” you wink at me, and we head out to the elevator.
The elevator rings loudly as I’m applying my peach mimosa lip gloss, and you grab my hand as we enter. The doors close, and I turn to face you. My heels make us almost the same height. I push you up against the rear wall of the elevator and kiss you feverishly. Your tongue intertwined with mine makes my love tighten. Grabbing my ass, as I relish in the taste of you… Our kiss is only broken by the obnoxious ding of the elevator bell as the doors open. Saved by the bell, I guess.
We hop in your truck, easier for you than me in this dress. You pull out the garage into the cool New York summer night, playing The Anticipation… How apropos. We have a 20 minute ride, as you pull onto the FDR… “No traffic, babe we gon’ make it in plenty of time.” I laugh, “Thank God, or we woulda been at Pop Burger and home in time for SVU.” You raise an eyebrow (this eyebrow thing is your favorite shit now ugh), “Burgers?? You don’t want to go now?” “Nooo, of course I do. I’m just starving. I didn’t have time to grab a snack before we left.” Hmmm… But I know what might curve it. I reach over and unbuckle my seatbelt, scooting closer to your seat. I begin to unzip your jeans. You look down at me and I stop. “Eyes on the road, or I’ll be hungry til we get there.” You laugh and switch lanes as we pass Pier 25. I pull your semi-erect dick out of your pants, gently squeezing it with my soft hands. I lick the pre-cum off the tip, and moan as I take you into my mouth. I begin sucking and slurping on your hardness, watching your face while you drive. I love that you have to concentrate on driving while I’m throating your dick. You shift in your seat so I can have better access to Your balls. I gently knead them in my hand, while trying to swallow you. I moan louder as the rhythm of my mouth and hands make your dick throb. “I’m about to cum,” you huskily grab the back of my head, forcing you deeper into my throat. I slide out of your grasp just as you reach for my arm. “Why you stop like that??” You seem irritated. “I can’t beat you… Remember?” You glare at me panting and pulling up your jeans. I wipe my hands and face on a napkin from the console, and giggle a little to myself. We pull into the garage near BLT, and I notice the gaggle of people outside, damn you were right. “Yea keep playin with me and get fucked on the hood of my truck in midtown.” Oh, my eyes widen, yes please. “Shut up, you wouldn’t.” Although, I know you would. “Try me…” you say as I hop out of the truck, almost forgetting my purse.
I love the modern feel of this restaurant. The warm yet bright colors in the open layout are inviting and soothing. We are seated quickly and peruse the menu of the day’s specials. I choose prime rib and baked potato, and we share creamed spinach and popovers. You laugh at how much you know I’m going to put away. “Ha. Ha. I’ll have plenty leftovers that I won’t be sharing with you.” You shake your head… “Yea right, I’ll eat whatever the fuck I want around here.” You salaciously lick your lips, and damn, an involuntary Kegel has me ready to go. We chat amorously through our meal about work, the barbecue poppin in your old neighborhood tomorrow, and your nigga Dre getting put out by his baby mama at 2 in the morning. You ask, “You want cheesecake? I’m fiendin for a slice to take home.” Hmmm… “Yea, let’s get a piece.” You rest your hand on my thigh, and tell me how much you love this dress. “I know babe. That’s why I wore it. Excuse me for a second, I need to use the restroom.” You nod, and I quickly move to the ladies room. I wait patiently for my turn in what seems like an endless stream of yuppies with heavy bladders. Finally rushing into my stall, I smirk to myself after removing my panties and stuffing them into my ostrich clutch. Exiting the stall, I wash my hands, check my lip gloss, and fluff out my hair. Hmmm…
I return to the table as you are ordering the vanilla bean cheesecake with strawberry bourbon sauce. Ooooh that sauce. We settle our bill, and you grab my hand as we part through the sea of eager late night dinner patrons. I put my hand in your back pocket… Damn I love this man. I gently grab your ass as we walk to the car. You glance at me, and as we reach the car you scoop me up into your arms squeezing me tightly around my thighs. You kiss me passionately, like you are sucking my soul out with each lock of our lips. You slowly lower me down, and I dash over to my door to hop in the truck.
We pull up to the parking garage at home, and you swipe your card to open the rot iron gate. And I’m hot. All I can think about is you squeezing my hips as you slow grind into me… I need to chill. And yet, I still want you. I turn the key to open our door, “Damn, I forgot the cheesecake in the truck. Lemme run down and get it babe.” I grab your arm just as you turn to leave, “Hold up, I got something for you…” I slowly remove my dress, as I move into our apartment. Your eyes begin burning with anticipation and the stinging remembrance of the bullshit I pulled during your blowjob. You push me into the dining room, wedging me up against the tall cold leather back of one of our dining room chairs. You grab my chin pulling my face, and quickly snatch my leg up so my back is flat on our table… Relentlessly rubbing your thumb across my clit sliding your fingers up and down my crease. You yank my face away from yours, causing me to open my eyes wide. And breathlessly you torment me, “You can’t beat me… Remember that.” You walk calmly toward the door, grabbing your keys and slamming the door on the way out. FUCK. I could do this all night.