Bailey stopped the second we got outside, prancing around a bit before she pulled me down the street excited to be away from the office of torture.
“Damn it, dog, next time can you do that before we start talking about meat, please?”
Bailey barked and kept going, her tail a happy wag. I would have been happy too if the heat in my cheeks subsided, along with the sting in my bruised shoulder, then we’d be just dandy.
7
Chase
I thought all week about my date with Winnie, nervously shifting in my seat as I drove to her aunt’s house the day of the barbeque. Kristen would be her usual nosey self, sure to ask inappropriate questions. My mother would give the inquisition and probably try to pry her social security number out of her to have a background check run. I was surrounded by boundary-less females and my hope of getting at least a kiss out of today’s encounter was slim to none.
Knocking on the door, I heard commotion from inside the house. “Hello?” I called out, but no one answered unless you counted the barking dogs and who I assumed was Winnie yelling at one of them. Twisting the doorknob in my hand, it clicked open, and I slipped inside, following the loudest of the sounds into the living room.
Stepping inside Helen Moody’s house was like stepping into a time warp. Antiques and strange items filled the space with museum like quality. A gilded mirror and a suit of armor decorated the hall while the walls held oil painted portraits and samurai swords. It was interesting and something to ask Winnie about later. My Date, though, was wrestling what I assumed was her dress from Roswell. Bailey and Pumpkin barked wildly, their tails wagging and bodies jumping in the way.
“Damn it, Ros, you little pervert!”
I cleared my throat, not wanting to scare the shit out of her. Winnie’s back was facing me and what a glorious sight it was. Forget getting a kiss, seeing her ass cupped in bright red lace was the equivalent of two full ripe Empire apples at the height of picking, the bottom of her cheeks peeked out teasing…and that was a better treat at the moment. Seeing her in yoga pants with strategically stitched lines was nothing compared to peach skin in the flesh. My eyes followed the line of her spine from the dainty swirl of a tattoo that rested on her right shoulder to the crease where her panties began dipping down, it was more like a fucking cherry on top of what promised to be an interesting afternoon to say the least.
“Heel, Ros!” My command to the dog startled everyone in the room. The dogs all backed off, hunching low. Pumpkin let out a nervous whine, followed by an obvious stream of gas from his overactive intestinal track.
“Oh, shit!” Winnie glanced over her shoulder at me wide-eyed, pitching forward as Roswell let go of her dress, causing her to fall backward. I stepped forward to catch her, but found myself tripping over the step down into the living room on the hand-woven carpeting. We both collided as soft skin landed against me and my hands grabbed around her to keep her from hurting herself. We were a tangle of limbs and wet slobbering kisses by the time we stopped moving and rolling over on the hard floor. I ended up on the bottom with Winnie on top of me at the tail end of it all.
We stayed like that a solid minute, just looking at each other awkwardly as the heat built between us and our breaths mingled there on the floor in a house filled with trinkets that was sure to haunt me years from now. I wore too many clothes for this as I felt the perspiration build between my shoulder blades with Winnie’s pliant body nestled perfectly against me. My dick responded in kind and there was no hiding that on my part.
“Um, hi. I guess I was running a little late.” Winnie bit the bottom of her lip, looking uncertain and waving her hand shyly in my face. Maybe I was wearing enough clothes after all that she wouldn’t notice that huge rod of mine creeping up toward her. No amount of kinky surgical cones could excuse the rise in my pants because I wasn’t just happy to see her, I was seriously attracted to this girl. I tugged her hand down so I could see her pretty face.
“I was a little early, so maybe it was my fault. It’s okay if you want to blame me.” Chuckling together, the moment ended on an awkward little sigh. Damn, she smelled good. The little wiggle of her hips definitely didn’t help but hey, in for a penny, in for a pound.
“Yeah, I’m going to go with that. This is all your fault.” Looking between us, Winnie’s chest heaved and her small breasts lifted in the cups of her very sheer, very red, very fitted bra. I liked it more than I should at
the moment by the evidence between us.
Pumpkin decided he wanted in on the action and came over to lick the side of Winnie’s ribs, tickling her and forcing her to collapse over me, her arms hugging my head and her breasts...fuck, those delicious globes were smashed against my face and the term motor-boating suddenly held a lot of appeal. Luckily, my brain kicked the twelve-year-old in my head to the curb quickly.
“Ahh!” Winnie and I rolled. I tried to keep the dogs away from her, but I only managed to tangle us up more, limbs locked together.
“Whoa!”
They bombarded us, and we squirmed to get up from the fray, licked and messy. Winnie’s hair became a dark tangled knot and her lips pouting.
“I should probably get dressed.”
“Probably.” I swallowed back the other thoughts swirling in my head, the term down boy repeated over and over.
“So we can go to the barbeque. You know, because you promised me meat.”
“Yes, I did.” Did I? Right, because she means actual food. Suddenly, I was a fumbling teenage boy with his first crush and not a thirty something man.
“Uh huh.”
“Right, I’m getting pretty hungry.” Winnie shuddered and her skin prickled with goosebumps. It was then I saw our roll had dislodged one pretty pink nipple from the lace cup of her bra. “Uhh…Win?” I wasn’t sure what to say or do, but there was no ignoring it now as her breast proudly hung out from our untidy squall.
“What?”
I looked down, trying to give her privacy and shrugged. Disgruntled was a start at describing her new expression.
“Argh! Damn it! I’ll bet you are.” She cupped her breasts, covering and arranging them back into place as her hips wiggled over my lap cruelly. Her voice sounded as strained as I felt. We weren’t talking about the barbeque at all and while I had no problems with missing it, I did not want to incur the wrath of both my mother and my sister.