I drive away with the windows down, adrenaline pumping through my blood. I can not believe I just fucking did that. I wanted to be brave, to ask for what I wanted for the first time in my life, and I figured, fuck it, the worst thing that was going to happen was I would embarrass the fuck out of myself and then move on with my life.
It helped that I saw him check me out a couple of times, his eyes consuming my body while hunger overtook his vision. I was betting on the fact that he would be attracted to me, or that he would enjoy pissing Greg off enough. Either way, it fucking worked.
He had me write down my information, and I did my best to cover the fact that my hands were shaking the entire time, nerves running through me like I had touched a live wire. I didn’t want him to see my confidence melt away when it started to become real for me.
For so long it has been a fantasy, and now, it could be happening, and that idea scares me as much as it turns me on.
The drive home is quick. I’m barely even aware of my surroundings because I am so in my head. I replay the conversation, over and over again, enjoying the small details, the look of confusion on his face, the realization, and the desire that filled his eyes when he finally understood what I was asking of him.
My body is on fire when I finally make it home, my mind wandering, already trying to figure out how tonight is going to play out, if he is going to take it slow, try to get to know me first, or just dive right in, taking my body for his pleasure.
Images of his big body on top of me, completely covering me, consuming me, flash through my head, taking up far too much space. I’m getting ahead of myself, and I know that, but I want this so badly. I want to know what he will do when he realizes that he has me in the palm of his hand, his for the taking.
I walk my way into my apartment, trying to calm myself down, trying to stop the thoughts, the images from raging around in my head, but it’s hard when I know he is going to be here in just a few hours, and he’s going to fuck the shit of out me.
I haven’t gotten laid since Greg, and, while Greg wasn’t bad, he wasn’t amazing either. I mean, it was very normal, very vanilla. I’m not a super kinky person, but with Greg, it was always only okay. He made me cum a handful of times throughout our relationship, so I figured I should be happy about that. It’s more than other men have done in my life, but it always sat in the back of my mind that he got more out of sex than I ever did.
But something tells me that Jax is going to fuck me, that I’m going to get just as much as he does. I have a feeling he doesn’t do ‘good enough’ sex. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, almost as if he has plans for me, plans for what he wants to do to my body, plans for how he wants to make me cum, and that thought only amps up my anticipation, my anxiety, while also making my body start to fucking tingle.
I never cum during the first hook-up with someone. I’m usually too nervous, too tense, but something about Jax makes me think he’s going to make sure that happens, like I can trust him to actually give a fuck about my pleasure too, instead of just taking it all for himself.
I walk into my apartment, looking around like I have never been here before, looking at it through his eyes. There are dishes in the sink from my breakfast this morning and clothes around the living room from when I was getting changed. I went through my entire closet trying to find something that made me look hot and casual enough that it didn’t look like I tried too hard.
I know I should probably clean up, but my body is on fucking fire, feeling as if the foreplay already started months ago, and I’m sick of waiting.
Having to wait any longer, even just a few hours, feels like some sick sort of edging, keeping my body tight and needy while never giving me any fucking relief. I’m so tense, so fucking horny, which is something I’ve never walked into a first date with. I want this more than I honestly should. And part of me is worried that he is going to come over, and I’m going to cum before he’s even taken my clothes off. Although that sounds cool, in theory, it would be humiliating, cumming so quickly with someone I’ve never slept with.
I don’t want to embarrass myself. I want to feel confident and in control. That feeling, the need to feel like I’m not completely desperate for him, pushes me toward my nightstand, opening the drawer to grab my vibrator. The feeling consumes me until I’m naked, laying on my bed, and putting the vibrator between my legs, seeking the relief that I need so fucking badly. It won’t be as good as if he was here, but I need something because if he came over right now, the night would be over too fucking quickly. I’ve waited too fucking long to only last a few minutes.
