The Bed And Best Friend Prt. Iii


First-Time
Anna was going to stay with me for a month, but that month turned into two. Then three. Now the new year was approaching, and she had not left yet. I did not manage, of course, as I was madly in love with her, but the dubiety had consumed me. Was she a roommate ? admirer ? Lover ? Thomas More ?

The clip to have"the talk"was that first calendar week, after she blew me twice. But we did not. She blew me a few more times, and I ate her out, and yet we never really discussed the details of our relationship. Anna did not seem to mind - she clearly did not require it defined - and I pretended not to as well, though it killed me.

Then the windowpane closed. She met Baron Clive of Plassey at a trade meet in early Nov. They went on a date. Then two. Then three. Soon she was no longer sleeping in my bed, and we were certainly not fooling around. She did not even come home a few night a workweek. Fucking Clive.

We'd still hang out, and she'd say things like,"God, you're such a with child guy. You deserve to contact someone."It killed me. I DID deserve it, she was mighty. And I had met her. Unfortunately, she had met Clive. Fucking Clive.

By December she was talking about finalizing the divorce from her husband and finding her own place in the new year. She was very clear that she felt like she was a encumbrance to me, and that she"owed it to me"to get out. I was JUST as vindicated that I didn't forethought. But I knew it wasn't really about me. It was about her. And fucking Clive.

I felt like I had a shot at Dec 25. Clive was going to his parent's menage in CO. Anna was driving to meet him on Dec. 26, but she had no plan for Christmastide day. I blew my own parents off and pretended I, too, had nothing to do. I suggested we stay in and drink wine and watch TV. She agreed.

I knew the gift I got her was important. I mean, just getting her a present was not enough. I needed a statement. There's a difference between a friend gift and a buff endowment. I wanted to get her a buff gift. I wanted a have intercourse message to be sent in big, bold, capital, thank-the-baby-Jesus letters. No dubiety. No confusion.

I got her a yoke of diamond earrings. It was the sort of thing she'd never get herself. I wrote a speech, too. I had facts on how tenacious it takes a ball field to be formed, and how precaution and preciseness and luck had to be exactly right for it to happen. It was a miracle, really. And just as miraculous, I segued, was how much she meant to me. I explained that I had loved her for virtually of my life, and I wanted to show her how particular she was. I had this memorized and tucked in my air hole, in event I stumbled. It was my import. I didn't want it to go wrong.

BBBBUUUTTTTT … just in typeface, you know, I got a safety endowment : Warm socks.

So on Christmas day, we were finished with bottle two. She got that happy-kid grinning on her boldness and said she had gotten me a give. I told her I had gotten her one, too. She asked if I wanted it now. I said yes. She smiled big and popped up and ran in her elbow room. She was woozy. I grabbed her two endowment and put them behind my back, under the shock, almost certain I would give her the lover gift, BBBBUUUTTTT … just in case, I put the socks back there, too.

Five minutes later, she came back to the support room, tears streaking down her boldness. Baron Clive had hidden a little wrapped box in her nightstand. She had just found it. It was a pair of adorable adamant earrings. She glided around the room, calling him on her cell to tell him how lots she loved them. I swallowed my glossa. screwing CLIVE.

I opened my gift : A $ 40 gift card to GameStop. I gave her the socks. I had lost the fight, the battle and the war.

***

I had very specific plans for New yr's Eve : I was going to pledge heavily. This is how heavily : I went to the spirits store and bought a fifth of vodka. As I was about to contain out, I looked at the 70-proof bottle of cheap hooch and though,"Hmm, is this sufficiency ?"I bought two. And I don't even drink vodka.

I really wanted to Negro out before Ryan Seacrest showed his fucking tanned face on the screen. Clive looked a bit like Seacrest. Blonde hair's-breadth. Highlights. short circuit. perfect tense grin. Extremely skillful and polite and charming and funny. He had always been Sweet to me. A real gentleman, actually. I hated that guy.

I poured myself a heavy Methedrine of liquid poisonous substance. When I say I am not a vodka guy, I mean that. I never drank it straight. It smelled like rubbing intoxicant. Still, I had a destructive bar that was pointing right at my liver and tum. I tried to ignore the smell and took a big gulp.

My oesophagus was still burning when my cubicle rang. It was 8:03 p.m. I thought about ignoring it, but I glanced at the caller ID. Anna.

"Hello ?"

"Is this a bad time ?"she asked. She sounded distant.

"No. Why ? You OK ?"

"Um …"her vocalism cracked. I could assure she was choking back tears."I, uh. Are you house ? Are you out ?"

"I'm home. What's up Anna ?"

"Could you … pick me up ? I mean, I hate to ask. It's just. Clive he, uh … we had a fight. You know ? I just necessitate to get abode and I left my debit entry card at home and I can't get a cab and I don't have anyone …"

"No, shh. tone, it's poise. Where are you ? I will leave now."

***

Anna did not talk much on the way home, just a few thank yous. By the time we got back to the apartment, it was a minuscule after 10. She looked stunning, even with her makeup running down her boldness. Her squiffy green dress hugged her curve. I felt underdress, what with my blue jean and a t-shirt.

She went back to her room, only to reemerge a fiddling before 12. Her hair was up, makeup off. She wore her cow PJs and a tight T. I wanted to buss her. It was the outfit she wore the second Night we were together.

She sat down beside me on the couch. She had a wine-colored glass in her hand and motioned toward my bottle of vodka, which I had not touched since we had gotten back."May I ?"

She filled her shabu up and sank back, her feet curled under her. Her centre were red, but she was no farseeing crying.

"Do you need to talk ?"I asked.

"No,"she said."Yes. Maybe. God. You probably think I'm such a flaming idiot."

"No. No I don't. I won't."

"First my married man, now Baron Clive. I must hold a special attraction to assholes."

"What did he do ?"

"It turns out he wasn't visiting his parents in Colorado over the weekend … but his wife. She called when he was in the bathroom, and I picked up his cubicle. She was as surprised to found out about me as I was to found out about her."

"Wow,"I said.

"Yeah, well. Anyway, when he got back, I confronted him and he had the spunk to get mad at ME for ‘ snooping.'He left me there at the social club. No money. No ride. Fucking Clive."

She slipped slowly at her drink, grimacing with every swallow.

"And the thing is … I KNEW it. I knew he was a lying snake. I sensed it. I tried to block it out. There was just something so … fake about him. I don't know. Something dissembler. God."

"He looked like Ryan Seacrest."

Anna looked at me. sorting of stared. Then a boo. Then a wax gag. I started laughing, too. She spilt a niggling of her drink on herself and laughed more. We were both repeat over.

"God,"she said, wiping the tears away."You are aright. I was dating Ryan Seacrest ! I am such an idiot. Jesus."

"Anna, you are being too hard on yourself …"

"Stop."

"I mean it. Look, you WANT to be intimate someone. You want to so badly that you ignore the bad things. There are unsound qualities."

"Like what ?"

"Like NOT wanting love. Like being closed off. Like giving up on hope and destiny and all that other fairy tale material. Listen, you should never be ashamed about your desire to be well-chosen and to want the beneficial in others. We live in a cynical humankind. We need to a greater extent ‘ you,'less ‘ them.'”

She smiled and curled up beside me, resting her head on my articulatio humeri."You are a safe booster,"she said. My essence sank. I was such a lollipop. It was five till midnight.

We watched clock time Square on TV in quiet, Anna taking the occasional sip from her wine-coloured glassful. Her head stayed on my shoulder. We watched the countdown, the happy faces shrieking and yelling. When the clock ticked one moment, Anna turned and gently grabbed my head, kissing me, tenderly. I had kissed her before, but zilch was like this. It was sweet and gentle and packed with meaning. For me.

She pulled away and bit her lip, her hand caressing my brass. She put down her vino glass and started to move, straddling me.

"No,"I said, jumping up and hopping across the room."No. No."

"What's wrong ?"she asked.

"You can't do that."

"Sorry."

"It's not fair."

"What ?"

"THAT. Again."

"What ? buss you ? I thought you liked that ? We're admirer. It's OK …"

"screwing Anna. We are NOT friends. We're not. I mean, we are. But … you HAVE to have intercourse I love you, right ? I mean, you are a smart girl. You are fucking brilliant. You KNOW I love you. I've never said it, but you know. You know !"

"Tom …"

"Don't say it, Anna. Don't say we're friends. I can't postulate it."

rip were in her eyes again. I couldn't face at her. I felt myself welling up."But we are."

"Why, Anna ? Why Clive and all the others but not me ? Huh ? Why not me ? You want soul to love you and handle you decent and be there for you ? It's me. It has always been ME."

Anna took another sip of her vodka, running her handwriting through her hair and pinning it back. I looked at her, briefly. I could not keep up a gaze. I was embarrassed at my emotions. I was afraid I had changed everything.

"I know you love me,"she said."I'm not blind."

"Then why ? Huh ? Why not me ? Why not us ?"

"I can't …"

"fuck, Anna. You can. You owe me an explanation."

"Tom …"

"You have never been afraid to say what you feel. Don't start now."

"I guess I was afraid that if I lost you, then I would have no one left. And I am selfish. OK ? I am the asshole."

I moved to her, sinking on the sofa. I folded my men across my chest.

"Anna, you ARE going to lose me. I am not doing this anymore. I need you in my life, but I can't sit back and sentinel you particular date guy after guy. Marry them. Then come to me with your problem. I can't. I know I can be the man for you. I know I can give you what you want. And I can't sit back and learn this parade of losers. I can't be your safety net."

"I know."

I covered my oculus with my hand, rubbing them. I had not cried since Tommy Craig punched me in the nose in eighth mark. I brushed the hair back, off my os frontale. It felt grave in the room.

"I am grim to do this tonight, Anna."

"No …"

"I could've waited."

"Don't apologize. I should."

Anna reached out, taking my paw again. She pulled it to her breast, against her pump. I turned to see at her."Kiss me,"she said."Kiss me. Let's figure the eternal rest out later. I promise. I want this. Please ?"

I swallowed hard. Anna was a influence peddler. She hated pain in the neck in people. I wasn't trusted if this was existent or her way of healing a wound. But I was weakly. I leaned in and kissed her.

I have had sex lots, but I am not for sure I had ever made honey to someone. I had never connected with mortal on a key storey. But I did with Anna that night. It was gentle and raw and excited. On my couch. As Ryan Seacrest spoke in the background.

I stripped her clothes off and gazed at her, drinking her in. She gently stroked my cock as I wrapped her legs around me. I eased into her, slipping my sleeve around her shank so I could pull her tight against me. It was the first time I had been completely inside of her. I tried to realise the moment last.

Our consistency responded to each other. When she thrusted, I pumped. When I pumped, she squeezed. Her back talk never left mine. I could savor the salt from her weeping on her sass. Her tongue was fast-growing but soothing. When she came, she sank her nails into my back and kissed me hard. She said my name and I froze inside of her, fucking her gently as she rose and fell.

I was closed. I asked her where she wanted me to cum. She said inside of her. She said she was on the pill. I looked at her as I got close, pulling my capitulum back so I could see her oculus. She stared back. We connected. I smiled slightly. So did she. A grin of recognition. I kissed her as I came, my cock exploding into the abyss of happiness and contentment.

Afterwards, we lay on my couch, wrapped in a blanket. Her legs wrapped around mine, her promontory on my bureau and her fingers playfully running through my hair.

"I think this changes everything,"she said, looking up at me.

"I am OK with that,"I said, still not fully able to search at her."Are you ?"

She smiled."Yes,"she said.

"And I'm sorry,"she said, a few mo later.

"Why ?"

"I was selfish. I was a bad friend."

I smiled, my creative thinker raced. I squeezed her and pulled her tight."It's OK,"I said .
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