The Bed And Topper Friend Prt. Iii


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

The metre to have"the talk of the town"was that first gear 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 take care - she clearly did not want it defined - and I pretended not to as well, though it killed me.

Then the window closed. She met Clive at a trade meet in too soon 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 week. Fucking Clive.

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

By Dec she was talking about finalizing the divorce from her husband and finding her own place in the new class. She was very exculpate that she felt like she was a effect to me, and that she"owed it to me"to get out. I was JUST as acquit that I didn't care. But I knew it wasn't really about me. It was about her. And fucking Clive.

I felt like I had a barb at Yuletide. Baron Clive was going to his parent's rest home in Colorado. Anna was driving to forgather him on Dec. 26, but she had no architectural plan for Christmas day. I blew my own parents off and pretended I, too, had zilch to do. I suggested we stay in and drink vino and watch TV. She agreed.

I knew the giving I got her was of import. I mean, just getting her a present was not enough. I needed a statement. There's a difference between a friend natural endowment and a buff gift. I wanted to get her a lover giving. I wanted a lie with subject matter to be sent in big, bold face, capital, thank-the-baby-Jesus letters. No doubt. No confusion.

I got her a pair of ball field earrings. It was the kind of thing she'd never get herself. I wrote a actor's line, too. I had facts on how longsighted it takes a diamond to be formed, and how care and preciseness and luck had to be exactly right for it to materialise. It was a miracle, really. And just as marvelous, I segued, was how much she meant to me. I explained that I had loved her for most of my life, and I wanted to show her how peculiar she was. I had this memorized and tucked in my scoop, in case I stumbled. It was my moment. I didn't want it to go wrong.

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

So on Christmas day, we were finished with bottle two. She got that happy-kid grinning on her face and said she had gotten me a present. 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 room. She was silly. I grabbed her two gifts and put them behind my back, under the shock absorber, almost certain I would contribute her the lover endowment, BBBBUUUTTTT … just in case, I put the socks back there, too.

Five transactions later, she came back to the keep room, tears streaking down her brass. Clive had hidden a niggling wrapped box in her nightstand. She had just found it. It was a duad of endearing adamant earrings. She glided around the room, calling him on her cell to recite him how much she loved them. I swallowed my tongue. FUCKING CLIVE.

I opened my endowment : A $ 40 giving card to GameStop. I gave her the wind cone. I had lost the battle, the battle and the war.

***

I had very specific program for New Year's Eve : I was going to drink in heavily. This is how heavily : I went to the pot likker store and bought a fifth of vodka. As I was about to find out out, I looked at the 70-proof bottle of cheap hooch and though,"Hmm, is this enough ?"I bought two. And I don't even salute vodka.

I really wanted to black out before Ryan Seacrest showed his nookie tanned side on the screenland. Clive looked a bit like Seacrest. Blonde hair. highlighting. Short. perfective tense smile. Extremely nice and polite and charming and rummy. He had always been angelic to me. A real gentleman's gentleman, actually. I hated that guy.

I poured myself a large glass of liquid poison. When I say I am not a vodka guy, I mean that. I never drank it straight. It smelled like rubbing alcohol. Still, I had a destructive stripe that was pointing right at my liver and venter. I tried to brush off the smell and took a big gulp.

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

"Hello ?"

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

"No. Why ? You OK ?"

"Um …"her spokesperson cracked. I could narrate she was choking back tears."I, uh. Are you home ? Are you out ?"

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

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

"No, shh. Look, it's cool. Where are you ? I will give now."

***

Anna did not verbalize much on the way family, just a few thank yous. By the time we got back to the apartment, it was a little after 10. She looked stunning, even with her composition running down her impertinence. Her tight greens clothes hugged her curves. I felt underdress, what with my jeans and a t-shirt.

She went back to her room, only to reemerge a short before 12. Her haircloth was up, makeup off. She wore her cow PJs and a fuddled T. I wanted to kiss 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 script and motioned toward my bottle of vodka, which I had not touched since we had gotten back."May I ?"

She filled her glass up and sank back, her feet curled under her. Her eyes were red, but she was no thirster crying.

"Do you want to peach ?"I asked.

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

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

"First my husband, now Clive. I must ingest a peculiar attractiveness to assholes."

"What did he do ?"

"It turns out he wasn't visiting his parents in Colorado over the weekend … but his married woman. 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 nerve to get mad at ME for ‘ snooping.'He left me there at the nine. No money. No ride. Fucking Clive."

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

"And the matter is … I KNEW it. I knew he was a lie in ophidian. I sensed it. I tried to block it out. There was just something so … fake about him. I don't know. Something phony. God."

"He looked like Ryan Seacrest."

Anna looked at me. Sort of stared. Then a razzing. Then a replete laugh. I started laughing, too. She spilt a petty of her drink on herself and laughed more. We were both reduplicate over.

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

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

"Stop."

"I mean it. depend, you WANT to love someone. You want to so badly that you ignore the bad things. There are worse qualities."

"Like what ?"

"Like NOT wanting love. Like being closed off. Like giving up on hope and portion and all that former fay tale stuff. Listen, you should never be ashamed about your desire to be glad and to want the undecomposed in others. We live in a cynical populace. We need More ‘ you,'to a lesser extent ‘ them.'”

She smiled and curled up beside me, resting her read/write head on my articulatio humeri."You are a good friend,"she said. My essence sank. I was such a sucker. It was five money box midnight.

We watched Time foursquare on TV in silence, Anna taking the occasional sip from her wine trash. Her head stayed on my shoulder. We watched the countdown, the happy faces screaming and yelling. When the clock ticked one second, Anna turned and gently grabbed my question, kissing me, tenderly. I had kissed her before, but nil was like this. It was sweet and gentle and take with meaning. For me.

She pulled away and bit her lip, her handwriting caressing my brass. She put down her wine spyglass and started to displace, straddling me.

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

"What's damage ?"she asked.

"You can't do that."

"Sorry."

"It's not fair."

"What ?"

"THAT. Again."

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

"FUCK Anna. We are NOT Friend. We're not. I mean, we are. But … you HAVE to have sex 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 take it."

snag were in her heart again. I couldn't flavour 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 mortal to sleep together you and treat you right and be there for you ? It's me. It has always been ME."

Anna took another sip of her vodka, running her hand through her hair and pinning it back. I looked at her, briefly. I could not sustain 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 got no one left. And I am selfish. OK ? I am the asshole."

I moved to her, sinking on the couch. I folded my hands across my chest.

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

"I know."

I covered my eyes with my hand, rubbing them. I had not cried since Tommy Craig punched me in the nose in eighth grade. I brushed the whisker back, off my forehead. It felt profound in the room.

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

"No …"

"I could've waited."

"Don't apologize. I should."

Anna reached out, taking my handwriting again. She pulled it to her dresser, against her philia. I turned to await at her."Kiss me,"she said."kiss me. Let's frame the quietus out later. I promise. I want this. Please ?"

I swallowed hard. Anna was a repairer. She hated pain sensation in masses. I wasn't sure as shooting if this was real or her way of healing a wounding. But I was decrepit. I leaned in and kissed her.

I have had sex lots, but I am not for sure I had ever made passion to individual. I had never connected with somebody on a primal level. But I did with Anna that night. It was appease and raw and worked up. On my sofa. 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 arms around her waist so I could pull her tight against me. It was the first clip I had been completely inside of her. I tried to ready the moment last.

Our consistence responded to each other. When she thrusted, I pumped. When I pumped, she squeezed. Her backtalk never left mine. I could smack the salt from her crying on her mouth. Her knife was aggressive but soothing. When she came, she sank her nails into my binding and kissed me laborious. She said my public figure 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 anovulant. I looked at her as I got close, pulling my head back so I could see her eyes. 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 lounge, wrapped in a blanket. Her pegleg wrapped around mine, her head on my chest and her finger's breadth 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 look 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 idea raced. I squeezed her and pulled her tight."It's OK,"I said .
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