I woke up to Steve getting back from a run at about eight. The sun had just come up in New York. After exchanging pleasantries about his run, I invited Steve back to the bed. We had intense sex again, although neither of us cried this time. I felt so much longing for him to be there , every day, instead of having to plan out our time together. It was like our sex schedule was accelerated because we were going to spend so much time apart and I was pretty damn sore from it. But I wouldn't say that to him just yet. I was surprised he could have sex this many times in twenty-four hours, but apparently the Super Soldier Serum did things like this to its subjects, but hadn't made the Army records. Pity. This was better than Viagra and I don't think even teenage boys could do it as often as he had since yesterday.
He got up and started some coffee for us and I took another bath.
"I made coffee just like you like it, if it's okay that I come in?" Steve asked, knocking on the door.
"It's fine," I said.
He pushed the door open and had my coffee and a plate of koulourakia for me. "I'm making eggs and toast for when you get out of the bathtub… How much longer are you going to stay in there?"
"Okay, fine, I'm coming," I said, pulling the drain. The doorbuzzer rang in the apartment.
"Were you expecting guests?" I asked.
"No."
I got my towel of the radiator and dried off, getting my clothes in the bedroom.
"Pepper's coming up," Steve said, looking a little panicked.
"I'll get dressed quick," I promised.
As I was putting on my bleach-stained jeans and my lace top, I heard a knock on the door.
"Steve, hi!" I heard Pepper's voice. "I hope you had a great time at the party last night.
"I did, come in. Dani came over for breakfast."
"I'll be right there!" I called. I put on a little foundation, chapstick, and mascara and pulled my hair back into a butterfly clip.
In the living room, the middle-eastern man had returned. He nodded at me. "I'm here for the Tiffany's pieces we loaned out to you last night?"
"Oh, I'll get them, they're on the dresser," I said.
"No rush."
Steve and Pepper were at the breakfast nook, he had poured her a cup of coffee. She stood up when I walked into the room.
"Dani, it's good to see you again," Pepper said, grinning. She was a little intimidating-looking, being so beautiful and statuesque, but her personality was so friendly it overcame it. She was dressed in slim jeans and a graphic t-shirt that was tucked in under her belt and a fitted burgundy corduroy and lace blazer to dress it up. Her leather, pointed-toe booties probably cost a month's rent for me, easy. She looked easily stylish, like she had just thrown this outfit together, but looked like a model, still.
"I had a great time at the party last night," I admitted. "You and Tony know how to throw a party."
"Well, when you can throw a lot of money into a party and have a large staff, it's easy to get things together in an afternoon."
"My sister's going to be so jealous that you got Cardi B to perform," I said. "And thank you for the dress, it was beyond anything I've ever worn."
"I'll get the jewelry?" Steve asked.
"Thanks, honey," I said. "Can you get my coffee, too?"
"I had one of your cookies last night before I went to bed," Pepper said. "Tony ate the rest last night before I could get to them."
"We should have some leftovers," I said, going into the kitchen to open the Zip-loc baggie, only to find there were maybe five left. What the hell? Had Steve eaten most of them? I got the last ones out.
"I try to avoid flour, but, once in a while is okay," she said, picking one up, taking a bite. "This is worth it. Oh, and you impressed Tony. You were the only couple that brought any kind of host gift."
"We did?"
"Nobody ever brings him anything for the parties. Anyway, let me get to the point of why I came by: for you. Tony wanted to come here to talk to you, but didn't have a free space in his schedule today."
"Wow, he's a busy man."
"He sent me instead. So, like I said last night, he's turning his empire's mission to rehabilitating our veterans and green energy, mainly. He wants to work with the best minds in psychiatric rehabilitation for the VA. He's got his sights set on certain people in the industry engineering new treatments. The people already working with us have already started creating new EMDR treatments. He wants to revolutionize PTSD treatment. We're the citizens our military protects. And it's our job to not only vote against the warhawks that would send them out into battle for no good reason asides from making them money, but to protect our soldiers by helping them through trauma. He wants to make sure he's got the best up and coming minds to learn how to treat these veterans. That's where you come in."
"Me?" I asked. "I'm only one full semester into my graduate program."
"At George Washington U. That's nothing to sneeze at, Dani. Our psychologists are planning on mentoring grad students and Ph.D. students that are excited and passionate about helping our veterans. We want America's VA system and Stark Industries to become the cutting edge of trauma treatment technology, world-wide. Our veterans deserve the best. He wanted to encourage you to apply for your internship here in New York for next year."
I was stunned. An opportunity to directly help our veterans? I had seen PTSD in my father. "It would be an honor," I admitted. "But… I'm in school three hours away."
"Have you considered living in New York part time?" she asked, sipping her coffee.
I shook my head. "It's hard enough living in DC," I admitted.
"We have some agreements dormitories at Carnegie-Mellon and NYU… if you and Steve weren't ready to cohabitate, even part time."
I glanced over at Steve. His eyebrows raised.
"We're not at that point, yet," he said.
"Baby, sit down," I said.
"We have grants, too," she said. "And student loan forgiveness for our supervised recent-grads looking to get their licensure, if you're interested."
"I am," I said. Money towards school and living I didn't have to pay back was a relief.
Steve took a seat to my side. "I would love to have Dani living so close by," Steve said, rubbing my back with his free hand. "It's a lot of work to keep up a relationship with our schedules and the distance between us."
"So, what do you think?" Pepper asked. "Can we get your information for when you start interviewing for your internship next summer? Don't get me wrong, I'm not promising you a position, but if you put in an application, I have a feeling you'd meet our expectations."
The idea of getting my internship started next fall in New York was appealing: Steve would probably ask me to move in with him, and it would be a relief. I'd get experience in dealing with trauma and PTSD and the 1000 hours I needed in internship to graduate. Maybe I'd give up my apartment, move Lourdes Marie to New York, and move in Kamika or Mia as a roommate only on the nights I was in classes. They had roommates moving out in May. And with Tony Stark heading this division of psychology in America, it couldn't not be a good program. Of course, I didn't know where my relationship with Steve was going. If Steve didn't want me to move in next fall, my heart would be broken. But if he did… I had to weigh my options carefully. I had planned on living in the DC area until I graduated. "I'd love to meet with your people," I said.
She grinned. "Here's my card. Email me your resume this summer. And I have the feeling, with the Avenger's Initiative, we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the future regardless. I've got to get back the office, though," she stood up.
"It was nice seeing you again," I added.
"It's always good to see you, Pepper," Steve said, standing up to see her out.
"You too," Pepper said.
Once she and the man from the courier service were gone. I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee. "Why did you tell her that I came over for breakfast?" I asked.
"What?"
"You told Pepper I came over for breakfast, like I spent the night somewhere else," I said.
"That's ridiculous," Steve scoffed. "Are you sure you heard me right-"
"Deflecting."
Steve's jaw set defiantly as I sat down at the table.
"Are you ashamed to spend the night with me?" I asked. "After all the times you said you were happy I was your first?"
"No, it's not that."
"Then why did you make it sound like I'm staying at a hotel or something?" I asked irritated. "Sexual norms are so different, now, nobody cares- hell, S.H.I.E.L.D. knows you spend the night with me!"
"I don't- Dani, why is this a big deal to you that people know we spend the night together? Didn't you tell me that nobody cares?"
"You care so much that people know?" I asked. "You friends?"
"I don't…" his cheeks were turning pink in the morning light. "I don't want people thinking you're loose. Or easy. That's why. I don't care if people think I'm a pervert or the worst person alive, as long as they don't picture you doing… All the things we do. I don't want how base and promiscuous I am with you to tarnish how people see you, does that make sense?"
I was surprisingly touched. He cared so much what people thought of me, that he thought he was damaging my reputation by daring to touch me. "Steve, that's so sweet. But trust me, your friends aren't thinking like that."
"But sex and naked bodies are everywhere these days," he grumbled. "What happened to society? Nothing's left to the imagination. And I don't want people thinking of you like that because of me."
"There's a lot of double-standards," I agreed. "As long as your friends see me as a person, I think we'll be fine. But I never thought before about how much nudity and sex there is in society, now."
"Trust me, it's a shock what's considered 'normal' and 'family friendly.' I left America when cheesecake models and pinups were hidden under your mattress in polite families, but now, there's a 3-story tall naked dame in the middle of Times Square. I downloaded Fortnight and someone sent me the most disgusting, pornographic pictures in my DMs, I had to block him."
"You're from a different time," I agreed. I thought about how difficult it was to obtain pornography, let alone hardcore porn in World War II when now it was only a click of a button away on your computer. Nanny always said at Victoria's Secret commercials, Why don't they just show her naked? Steve came from that time, and I had to give him grace on that. He had been poor, but had held himself to high morality. It was kind of sweet that he didn't want people thinking I wasn't a virgin. "And it's okay to live with your girlfriend now, too, so me spending the occasional night with you isn't the end of the world. It's kind of expected of couples before they marry, now. Didn't unmarried people live together in the forties?"
"Sure, but they weren't exactly the highest-class people in society," he admitted.
I didn't want to jump down that rabbit hole with him, now. He had considered the priesthood at one time before the war, too. He had a good heart, and I understood why he was concerned about me looking unchaste. I changed the subject instead. "I think it's cute that you're gaming," I admitted. "Wanna show me Fortnight ?"
"I can't believe that Tony Stark is courting me for my internship," I sighed, laying down on the couch, gazing up at Pepper's card after Steve showed me Fortnight . It was a personal card, it even had her phone number on it. I programmed it into my phone. He had been so cute showing me how high-tech his character was in the game, and trying to explain it to me. His knowledge of computers had grown exponentially since we had met, he was teaching himself technology. His keen mind was incredible, sometimes. "I've got to catch up on that research paper before I go back to DC!" I jumped up from the couch and got my laptop.
"You know…. I wouldn't mind you living here in New York," Steve admitted. "If my landlord asks, we can just tell him we eloped."
"It's none of your landlord's business," I snorted. "As long as we pay the rent on time."
"Well… you said couples live together these days before getting married."
"Well, we're halfway there, now that we're keeping things at each other's places," I admitted. "But… I've got to keep working hard on school. I have to pass if I want to get this practicum and internship."
"What are you doing on Valentine's Day?" he asked suddenly.
"What? Working."
"Oooof course," he sighed.
"Hey, I'm not rolling in money," I said. "I'm living paycheck to paycheck, okay? I can't skip a holiday like Valentine's Day at work. It's hard enough to take a weekend off!"
"I just want to take you somewhere special, finally," he grumbled. "You deserve it and…"
I hugged him. "If you want to go on vacation, don't let me not being able to go keep you from it."
"It wouldn't be worth it to go on vacation without you," he grumbled. "I want to celebrate that Tony wants you to work with him. It's a big deal, your career's taking off, and it's Valentine's Day and…"
I shrugged. "I want to go on vacation, too. I haven't been on an official vacation asides from my fathers' beachhouse since my sophomore year of college."
"Chad never took you anywhere?"
"No-"
"Okay, find a way to take a week off in February. That's… malarkey !"
"Alright, fine. I'll make it work, but I'm going to have to work a lot to make ends meet."
On the train home, I decided to call my father on FaceTime since it was Sunday afternoon and the family was probably having Sunday dinner at his house. I had the whole train compartment to myself, thankfully. It had been a great trip to New York, and I had especially loved catching up with Nia at dinner on Saturday night.
After everyone greeted me, the kids wanted to do tricks for me, and Peyton showed me her forward-roll sumersault she had learned in gymnastics, and Ruby joined her. Matthew showed me a magic card trick with help of Lauren, (which I already knew, but played innocent, and gushed over it).
"So tell me what you did this weekend with Steve?" Lauren asked.
"We went to a party on Friday night. And on Saturday night, we went to dinner and met Nia for drinks afterwards. But the party on Friday night was a lot bigger," I said, knowing I'd break her heart. "And Cardi B performed at it."
"What?" Lauren cried, almost spitting out her sip of tea.
"WHAT!?" Ruby and Peyton yelled behind Lauren, echoing her.
"Yeah, WHAT?" Shawn shouted in the background.
"Did you just say Cardi B?" Lauren cried.
"Yep," I said. "I met her. In person."
"You better have gotten pictures!"
"Steve got a few, I'll have him send them to me," I said.
"I'm gonna kill you! You didn't use your own phone to get pictures? What did she do?"
" Bodak Yellow and Who Want the Smoke ," I said.
She groaned. "Oh, you suck. Did you get her autograph?"
"No," I laughed. "Nobody does that anymore!"
The phone was passed around and Daddy had it. "Hey, sweetpea, how's it going? How was your weekend in New York with Steve?"
"Oh, we had a great time," I said. "I'm still sad you haven't met him, yet."
"Me too. Well, there's time. When's your next break?"
"I've got a long weekend over President's Day. And then there's Spring Break in early March, but Steve and I want to go on a vacation together. But, I can come home for Easter."
"Are you sure you don't want to bring him home for Easter?"
"He wants to go on vacation," I admitted. "But I'll insist on Easter."
"I'll buy you a ticket home, just let me know when you want it."
"Sure will."
"Meet anybody famous in the Big Apple this weekend?"
"Do you count Cardi B and Tony Stark?"
"No way! Tony Stark, Iron Man?"
"Yeah!"
"How'd you manage that?"
"Steve's military, and the military works with Stark Industries," I said.
"I was military and I didn't know Tony Stark," Daddy grumbled.
"Steve's teaches strategy and tactics at West Point and the Pentagon, they use a lot of Stark Industries technology and weapons."
"What's his full name again?"
"Steve Rogers. Captain Steven Grant Rogers."
"I wanna meet this Steve guy," Daddy grumbled.
"Lining up our schedules is the hardest part of that," I said. "I'll get him home soon."
"Okay, darlin'," he said and I could hear kids in the background. "Hey, Ruby and Peyton want to sing a song for you."
As Valentine's Day came up, I got scheduled to work at the diner, which I hated. Steve was disappointed I couldn't make it to New York for Valentine's Day, but I pointed out to him that it was the busiest night of the year for restaurants and florists, and I preferred the idea of having Valentine's Day a few days later when the restaurants weren't a mob scene and everything was overpriced.
When Super Bowl Sunday rolled around, Steve came into town fresh from a mobilization and I took him to Alissa and Joel's party, even though neither of us knew the teams very well. I had to explain that I really watched for the commercials and the halftime show. He wanted to leave early because, you know… sex.
On Valentine's Day, I had class. I didn't mind it so much, but the Marital Lifecycle class was kicking my ass. We were taking a break from lecture when the florist's van pulled up. "Oh please…" I whispered, sweating in the icy DC air.
The florist got out of the van. "If Steve sent you flowers again today, I'm going to going to puke," Mia said. "After he sent them to you in January. That is absolutely disgusting and unfair. I want to get flowers from somebody!"
Alissa burst into giggles and the florist emerged from the back of the van with a vase of full of roses. "They're just in the honeymoon phase," she giggled. "He'll cut it out, soon."
"Liss!" I cried.
"Could you ladies tell me where room 401 is?" the florist asked us.
"Down the hall, the elevator's on the left," Alissa said. "Who's the delivery for?"
"Danielle Conyers? Do you ladies know her?"
An angry/sad squeak came out of Mia's throat and she stamped her foot. Alissa and Kamika burst out laughing. My face went red.
"I'm gonna kill him," I muttered.
Steve made up for it with the sweetest Valentine's note. ... I've never had a Valentine before you and you're everything I could have ever hoped for and more.
With my entire soul,
Steve
I let the embarrassment slide.
I called him that night during a break at the diner.
"Thanks for embarrassing the hell out of me at school today."
"I embarrassed you? How?"
"I don't like my personal life coming out in school, and I caught so much crap from my professor and friends when I brought in a half dozen red roses because I had nowhere to put them."
Steve laughed. "Oh, I'm good!"
"You're in trouble, that's what you are."
"Did you get those days off from work in March for your spring break?"
"March second through seventh."
"Good. I got our vacation planned out."
"Where are we going, surf or turf?"
"Pack for surf."
"The beach? Which one?" I asked.
"Dani?" My shift manager asked. He tapped his watch.
"I'm not telling," Steve replied.
"I've gotta go, which one?"
"It's a surprise! But get your passport."
"Ugh! I'll text you when I clock out."
My night mostly consisted of serving couples and red food dye. The kitchen had a new cook in it named Barry who was constantly cracking inappropriate jokes. He was a big guy, probably Steve's height but had at least a hundred extra pounds on him in a bad way, was balding and had a goatee beard. Every time I bent over, he'd whistle and every time I walked back into the kitchen, he'd tell me how he loved to watch me leave. I mostly rolled my eyes while he giggled at his own jokes.
By the time my shift was over, my legs were sore and my back hurt, but Ron had made ordered some chicken fingers for the staff for us to take home as we clocked out. I took three and a cup of honey mustard, and started my walk to the Metro station. I texted Steve to see if he was still awake.
Upon arriving home, I saw the lights on. There was a paper heart taped on the door that said Don't be alarmed, it's me in Steve's handwriting
"Dani?" I heard Steve call out. I saw my table set up for dinner, with lit candles, the roses he set me in the centerpiece, and my meager, mismatching plates and cutlery set out, along with my wine glasses. I melted.
"What are you doing here?" I squealed.
"Ow, ow, ow!" I heard him mutter.
I found him in my little galley kitchen, completely naked, standing over the stove, with a dish towel wrapped around his narrow hips. "What are you doing?" I cried. "Steven, are you insane? Get away from that!"
"I thought it would be romantic to have a naked dinner," he said dabbing at his injured stomach. Tiny, sizzling drops of oil from the skillet had burned his washboard abs as I pushed my way to oven. He also had the heat on too high, I turned it down.
"It's romantic, but there's a reason you don't cook naked, baby," I said, moving the skillet from the eye. Little snaps of the oil sent white-hot droplets against the back of my hand.
" Now you tell me! I did not think this through."
"You learn in time," I said. "And the skillet was too hot. Go put some clothes on."
I did my best to finish the chicken and the vegetables Steve had started, and he came back, wearing those flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt.
"There's a reason for aprons," I said. "Thank God you had the towel around your waist, goofy."
"I feel pretty silly now," he admitted.
"At least you protected your balls."
"Danielle, language!"
I rolled my eyes. "Would you prefer me to say 'penis' and 'testicles'?" I teased.
He groaned, his cheeks tinged pink and I chortled. There were some yellow-ish dots bleeding through on his shirt from his abs.
"Are you bleeding?" I asked, getting a paper towel. I lifted his shirt and saw small oil-spatter blisters oozing oily yellow pus droplets. "I've got some Neosporin in the medicine cabinet." I dabbed at the spots.
"It'll be fine," he scoffed.
"You had the heat up on the chicken too high," I said. "You want it to cook at a low heat for like eighteen minutes until it's 140 degrees. If you cook them at too hot of a temperature, they get tough and chewy, and if you don't cook them enough, you could give someone eating it salmonella."
"Forgive me, the most cooking I did in the last four years in my memory was beans in a tin can over an open flame."
"Did you tenderize the chicken?"
"Like pound them with a mallet?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, I did that. I seasoned them, too. I meant to get steaks, but by the time I got off the train, the grocery store had sold out of all the good beef."
"It means a lot to me that came out this way for me on Valentine's Day," I said softly. "And sweet that you tried to make a meal for me when I got home."
"Well, we always have the best holidays at home," he said, stroking my cheek. "I was trying to turn up the heat, you know?"
I long to tell him I loved him. I did. This would have been the perfect moment. "You are the best boyfriend," I sighed. "Okay, let the chicken simmer for a few more minutes and I'm going to get a quick shower." I stood up on my toes to kiss him. "Be right back."
I took a quick shower and changed into a bra and panty set in red from Victoria's Secret's post-Christmas sale and put on a robe after shaving my legs (I usually let my leg hair go when Steve and I parted out of pure laziness, but I never wanted him thinking I had that thick Greek leg hair that ran in my family). I made sure the robe opened and revealed just a little red lace.
Steve was messing with the chicken. "How are they?" I asked.
"I think… I think they're done, I'm just checking to see if they're pink on the inside."
"You use a thermometer for that," I said, opening the drawer beside the stove.
"You and your kitchen gadgets."
I rolled my eyes. "I was prepared to have your Valentine's Day present for next weekend when you came to see me."
"You got a present for me?" he asked, brows raised.
"Of course, you got me a whole vacation!" I cried, sticking the thermometer into the thickest part of the chicken breast. The needle rose quickly, getting to the 140 mark. "Okay, we can eat this, we're good." He got the plates. "I didn't pay for express shipping for your present."
He shrugged. "That's okay," he said, picking up his fork and knife as I served him some broccoli. "What is it? Can I at least see the tracking email?"
"Okay," I said, getting my phone out of my purse that was hanging off the back of my chair. He took a sip of his wine. "Here ya go."
He looked at the tracking website. It was a new easle from a really good company, Mia had had a boyfriend who taught art back in Cincinnati, and had recommended it to me. "Thank you, I can't wait to sketch some dirty pictures of you on it."
"I bet you will. Just don't crack sex-related jokes right now with me."
"Why not?"
"A new cook at the diner. He thinks he funny."
"What did he say?"
"Oh you know how the cooks are. They love to tease the servers."
"Do I need to set him straight?" Steve asked, standing up.
"No, sit down, I can handle it. He just says things like that for attention."
"If you're sure."
"I'm sure."
We had a fun dinner, even though it wasn't as sexy as he had wanted, it was nice to come home to a special candlelight dinner by surprise. I had planned to go home and watch a movie on TCM and eat a microwave dinner with Lourdes Marie, but he was here with me, now.
We had our own little party, and enjoyed our late dinner together. I told him about the couples I had waited on tonight, and the ones I was certain wouldn't last the year. We settled into the bed with Lourdes Marie and watched Waterloo Bridge since it seemed romantic, although I dozed off in Steve's arms.
I woke up to see that I had missed part of that movie. "What happened?" I asked.
"Myra became a prostitute."
"Well that escalated quickly."
He laughed. "This movie is awful. I remember seeing it in the theater, and it was so dumb, I regretting spending my dime."
"Why didn't you tell me that when I picked it out?" I asked.
"Because I know how much you like old movies."
"What did you want to watch?" I asked, sitting up.
"I don't know. You."
"Me?" I asked, blushing. "I'm gonna turn it off," I said and climbed across the bed to turn off the laptop. I closed it and put it on the floor. "I like being close to you. Thank you for making the trek to DC to be with me on Valentine's Day." I settled into his arms.
"I couldn't stay away from you today," he said, pressing his forehead to mine. "What kind of boyfriend does that?"
I lifted my chin to kiss his lips. He kissed me back and he pressed me back into the mattress, stroking my hair out of my face. He had gone so far to see me on Valentine's Day and wrote something so sweet and heartfelt in that card with the flowers, I wanted to make him happy, Especially tonight. I wished I had the courage to tell him how I felt about him, to use that word, the one that scared men away. I tugged the back of his shirt up, and he reached behind his head to yank it up the rest of the way, tossing it to the floor beside us. He ran feather-light kisses along my jaw and back up to my lips as my hands roamed his hot, smooth, bare skin, his muscles taught. I closed my eyes, enjoying his chest pressed against mine, only my bra and panties in the way, I had shed the robe when we got into the bed.
"Why don't you ever wear pajamas like a regular person?" he teased, his hand cupping my bra's underwire.
"You don't like it when I wear lingerie to bed?"
"I know you have a set, I've seen them in your dresser, the cute ones with unicorns on them. I think it would be easier to get pajamas off you than this stuff. I'm always afraid I'll tear it or something, it's so delicate."
"Here," I said, sitting up, unhooking the bra behind my back, tossing it aside. I loved the hungry look in his eyes when I had my bra off. "Better?"
"Much," he said. I saw a boyish smirk on his broad jaw. "But what if I tear the rest, too? It is made of lace."
My thong was made of a thick lace spandex that stretched, but I humored him. "Fine," I replied, pushing down the panties, wriggling out of them before I climbed on top of him. He sat up to kiss me, his hands gripped my butt cheeks and squeezed gently. "Lay down," I commanded, grabbing his hands behind me. He flipped his wrist behind me and grabbed mine, holding my arms back. "Stop being so difficult, Steven!" I teased. He didn't release my wrists, just swallowed my mock protests with a kiss. My breasts were pushed out, my nipples scraping his chest, getting harder and harder so quickly… "Are you going to let me go?" I asked, getting up onto my knees, struggling against him.
"No, this is too fun, I like watching you squirm." He lowered his head and caught one of of my nipples in his mouth. I squeaked, the heat between my legs rising so fast, I was surprised I wasn't running arousal down the insides of my thighs. He managed to let go of one of my wrists, but catch it in the other hand, both my wrists in his grip.
"Steven!" I cried.
His free arm reached around my back and squeezed my ass cheek as he sucked away on my breast, holding me close. I struggled against him, but secretly, I liked it. "Want me to stop?" he asked.
I grimaced. "I'll be honest, I like it," I admitted.
He let go of my wrists after teasing me with his mouth and freehand. I, now turned on, took a moment to his down his chest, finding the oil blisters forming on his abs had scabbed over already. I nibbled on his cock before fully taking it into my mouth. He stroked my hair and I listened to his sighs and groans. I loved that I could do these things to him without him complaining and telling me I was doing it wrong. He made me feel sexy and beautiful and I had a power over him, I knew it. My fingers grazed his balls, and gently prodded, I could feel his body seizing up from what I was doing. Normally, I'd have stopped, but the greedy side of me wanted his cum in my mouth. I felt like a slut, but I was enjoying it. My fingers grazed down under his scrotum and I glanced up to see his head thrown back, lips parted, eyes closed. Gripping him by the base, I took him further down my throat until my nose was grazing his pubic hair.
"Danielle!" I felt his body jerk slightly. "Yes!"
I grunted in response, mouth still full, trying to control my gag reflexes and not let my teeth graze anything. I slipping my finger down to the wrinkled line behind his scrotum to his hole and slipped his cock back past my lips as he started cum in my mouth. I held the head of his cock right past my lips and took the hot cum, moaning softly. When he was done, I took his spent cock out of my mouth and got up to get a tissue to spit into.
"That was not fair," he said.
"I know," I said, wiping my tongue. "But that was only round one."
"You're on."