In the last month or so since I’d bared my heart and practically begged Ivy to give us a chance, and thank the fucking gods of whatever she agreed, things have been amazing. It’s been weeks of laughter and kissing and sex and snuggling, and fuck if I don’t love the snuggling as much as the sex.
At the core of it, my relationship with Ivy hasn’t changed. It’s just more, now. More fun, more heart, more meaningful, more passionate, more at risk. The stakes are higher and so are the feelings, but I don’t regret crossing the friendship line. How can I when I get to wake up every morning to the girl of my dreams?
Ivy has taken to sleeping at my condo on the weekends while I stay with her at her apartment most nights during the week. It took a while to convince her to stay over at my place at all, though. I ended up purchasing a very specific set of 800 thread count bedsheets to sway her.
“Mmmm,” she murmurs, shuffling her feet under the covers. The movement pulls the sheets down more, revealing the twin dimples just above her plump ass, and I stifle a groan.
I’ve got a marathon to run in three hours, three hours that need to be full of race day prep, so I cannot get distracted by my girlfriend’s tempting body.
She reaches her hand up and slides it into my hair, giving me a perfect view of the side of her breast, and I’m bowled over by the memory of sucking on her nipples last night until she was writhing beneath me.
Fuck.
Revolutionary War battles.
Not my girl’s perfect fucking chest.
“Do you have to leave now?” Her eyes are still closed, and her voice is the sleepy kind of sexy, which does nothing and everything for my now hard dick.
Powder Alarm. September 1st, 1774.
“Soon. I’m going to grab breakfast and then head to the park. I’ve got to check in and warm up.”
“Mmmm,” she hums again, dropping her hand from my hair and trailing it down my chest. When she opens her eyes, they’re hooded, swirling with heat, and the deepest, darkest of blues. Sex eyes.
Fort William and Mary. December 14th.
“Do you think you can stay for just five more minutes?” She wets her lower lip and then bites it lightly.
Lexington. Concord. April.
“I don’t know, babe. I need to be at the park soon...” My half-assed protest is weak, and she knows it. I mean, I don’t know why I have to get to the park that early...
The naughty smirk she flashes goes straight to my groin. “Just five minutes,” Ivy pleads, and just as I’m about to recall the dates of the Siege of Boston, she rolls onto her back, baring her entire front side to me.
Full breasts. Smooth belly. Glistening, swollen, sweet pussy.
All of it on display. All of it mine.
So, I do what any hotblooded human would do with a naked and willing Ivy Jean Rivenbark in their bed. I forget all about Revolutionary War battle sites and launch myself at her, laying claim on my girl’s body with my tongue while simultaneously jerking my dick.
Six minutes later, she’s sated and passed back out, and I’m ready to run a fucking marathon.
21
When Kelley crosses the finish line with a tim
e of three hours and twelve minutes, we’re all waiting for him.
Me, Bailey, and Jesse are wearing matching t-shirts and have been camped out for the last hour, and when we finally see him heading toward us, we start jumping and whooping and cheering him on.
It’s a blast.
Almost makes me want to run a....ew, no, never mind.
Kelley jogs up to us and immediately pulls me into a hug.
“Sorry I’m all sweaty,” he pants as he peppers me with kisses.