“Wash that crap off your face too. I can hardly see your face under all that makeup.”
She grabs the hand soap by the sink and starts to wash her face. While she does that I pull the pins from her hair so it’s not so perfectly styled anymore. I miss the color, but there’s not much I can do about it right now. Tomorrow I’ll have someone come in and fix her hair so it’s back to the way it was.
After she finishes washing her face and is toweling it off, I strip off my tux and leave it on the floor with her torn dress. I don’t know who those people were tonight in those clothes, but they weren't us.
I take her by the hand and pull her to the bed. She reaches down to remove her bracelet and I notice it’s still on. It was the one thing that was still truly her tonight. I grab her hand and stop her movements.
“Leave it on. I love it.” Just like I love you.
I’m still annoyed by how she was made up tonight, but I look her over, and she’s finally back to being my Tinkerbell.
“There you are,” I say, and take possession of her mouth. Her hands go to my chest and she starts to rub and pull at my body. I feel our passion shift and suddenly it’s as if we are ravenous for one another. It feels like I haven’t had her in years, instead of just minutes before in the limo.
I grab her and climb on the bed with her, never breaking our kiss. I cover her body with mine and push her legs apart with my hips.
God, I love kissing her.
My mouth never leaves hers as my cock finds her warm entrance and I push past her slick folds. We had enough foreplay in the limo that she’s primed and ready to go again for me.
I feel her tight walls squeeze me as I enter her, and it’s as if her pussy is giving me a welcome-home hug.
I break our kiss and look down at her. Her face is pink from washing off all the makeup and from her excitement. Her hair is wild behind her and when she reaches up to touch my face the sparkles in her bracelet catch the light. “You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now, Tink.”
She gets a little teary eyed but I don’t understand the emotion. I lean down and kiss her lips and then look into her eyes.
“You okay? Am I hurting you?” I ask as I slow my thrusts a little.
“No, don’t stop, Bray, please, don’t stop.”
I put my face in her neck and kiss and lick her there until I feel her getting close. Her body tenses up and I feel her climax take ahold of her. Her legs lock around me and she lets out a shout on her release. I feel her tight pussy grip around my cock and it sends me over the edge with her.
I thrust hard one last time and hold my cock in her as far as it will go while I cum. My orgasm drains all of my strength, but I have enough left in me to turn us over and have her lie on my chest. I’m still pulsing inside her and my cock is still rock hard, so I thrust a little and her hips start to move.
“You’ll keep cumming for me all night, won’t you, Tink?”
She leans up and gives me a sassy smile, all of the sadness from earlier has vanished. “You got it, Vanilla.”
BECS
Bray’s deep breathing lets me know that he’s asleep. I’m wrapped so tightly in his arms, it’s as if he’s scared I could disappear any second. He always has to have one hand on me, like he’s reassuring himself I’m still there. One arm is wrapped around my middle with his hand cupping my mound, and the other hand is cupping my breast. His breath tickles my neck, and I have no idea how he manages to fall asleep with his face pressed there. My hair is always in the way, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
The night plays through my head over and over again. This man confuses me. One minute he looks at me like I hang the moon, then the next it’s like he doesn’t want to be seen with me. One thing is clear: I don’t fit in here and I don’t belong. If I stay I’ll only fall deeper in love with him. Because I am in love with him. I need to get out now.
He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. When it’s just him and me, it’s like I’m his everything. It feels like I’m his oxygen and he needs me to breathe, but when the outside world seeps in, I feel like I’m his dirty little secret. Maybe even his addiction. But is he addicted to me or the sex?
The men I’ve known all my life would do anything for sex. They’ll lie¸ steal, cheat, buy it, and even take it. This arrangement started off with me being his live-in cook and house cleaner, which is ridiculous because the only messes I seem to clean are my own. If Bray got takeout or delivery, it would cost way less than what he’s paying me every week. This arrangement makes me his whore. No, not his whore; in this world I would be his mistress.
When I first presented that idea to Bray in his office that day, to sell him my virginity, I did it to make him mad. I don’t think I would’ve really done it, but they say everyone has their price. But then he shot me down and I was relieved. Relieved that he wouldn’t do that, that I was worth more to him. We are kidding ourselves though, because that’s exactly what I am now.
He works all day, comes home, eats dinner and fucks me all night. Then the next day he’s gone. He never takes me anywhere, nor does he seem to make an effort to be with me more than just at night. He slides me in when he has the time, placing me at the bottom of his list. Now that I’ve got a taste of what passion can be and what love can feel like, that’s what I want. And I want it from Bray. That’s a silly dream though. Girls like me don’t end up with men like Bray. Women like Chelsea end up with him.