But what didI hear?
This is what my brain interpreted it as:
"I want to keep banging you, and pretend we're having a normal relationship, but not here where I know people. Lets go do that somewhere where no one knows us, yeah?"
Maybe I was being crazy.
"No, Anders," I said, turning over.
Great, I remember thinking. Now instead of his cock poking and prodding my ass, it was inches from my cooch.
"I'm not going on vacation with you till we know what we're doing together," I told him, looking him in the eyes.
That's when his eyes went all distant.
"I thought you knew, darling," he said in that Mid-Atlantic voice of American aristocracy. "I love you."
Okay, so we were naked. I may have had morning breath. He was still scruffy. But he looked so cute.
"I love you, Christine," he said to me - his dark eyes looking into mine. "You don't have to say anything now, I just wanted..."
But I never let him finish. I was kissing him and running my hands over his body, desperately trying to pull him closer into me. If it was at all possible that we'd be pulled together into the same person - become one being - I would have done it. I wanted to be inseparable with Anders.
When I finally came up for air, I looked at him and smiled. "I hope you realize I love you to
o," I told him.
Six.
That's how many times I've sat down in front of the Selections Committee for the United Nations Consultancy Program.
Guess who's been on the committee every single time?
Yep.
Anders Trask.
I mean, talk about conflict of interest, right? This tops them all. For a program that's designed to judge the applicants on the moral fiber that they carry, I'm somehow not sure that sleeping with my professor who also happens to be on the nominating committee is the best idea.
The worst part about it? Anders doesn't seem to care.
Four.
That's how many times I've tried to bring up the fact that I'm not completely comfortable with the arrangement.
The first time, he just picked me up and threw me on the bed and began to kiss my neck. I mean, you try talking and expressing your concerns when you have a giant cock rubbing up against you and a wonderful man feeling your boob and kissing your neck. So I gave up that time.
The second time he went down on me. He even used his fingers. It was a long, slow process where he stimulated my G-spot over and over. He told me to relax and I closed my eyes, letting everything go. All of a sudden, it felt like I had to pee. Anders told me to trust him, and my body began to shake and before I knew it, I was squirting.
That's right. I was freakin' squirting! I was cumming too. This was insane.
So, yeah, I kinda forgot about the whole conflict of interest issue.
The next time was just yesterday. Anders tried to have sex with me, but by now I had sorta wised up.
Something was up where it seemed that every time I tried to bring this up I was instead experiencing powerful orgasms.
I mean, I'm not complaining. And if I keep getting orgasms, maybe manufacturing some conflicts of interest isn't a bad idea. Keep the spice alive in our relationship? God, that sounds so lame. We're much more cooler as a secret couple than that.