He is the only thing I think about. We've always said this is just sex, no strings attached, no nothing. Well surprise, bitch, you've probably caught feelings. That's why I always get hurt, because I get attached so fast.
Sex with him is one of the best things I've ever experienced. He listens to what I need and want, he's open to every new idea and suggestion, he puts me first and prioritizes my pleasure, and he wants to see me satisfied; that's his one and only goal. "Anything you need, baby" he usually says, "just ask and it's yours". If I fold? Of course I do. I always do. He has a way with his words that makes me want to fuck him 24/7.
Lately we've been hanging out more and it's confusing me a bit. In the beginning we were meeting entirely and only for sex. Now he texts me and asks me if I wanna come over for dinner and a movie, or if I wanna join him for a coffee in the city. Of course we always fuck afterwards, before or in between, but lately none of us has been leaving after the sex. Not to say that I had one single rule; do not sleep over and do not let the man sleep over if it's only sex. Guess what? Yeah, that's also been happening a lot lately. I've been waking up next to him so often that I'm starting to become addicted to the feeling of his arms around me.
The thing is, we're allowed to meet other people. No strings attached, we said. "You're a young, beautiful girl, I understand if you want to meet other young people" he once said. He always thinks about the obvious age gap between us. I've come to not care about it anymore. "You're a famous man, you travel, you meet new people all the time. Of course you're going to find someone you want to have fun with along the way" I once said. I remember him laughing, scratching his beard and not saying a word in response.
The other thing is, I don't care about other people. I don't care about guys my age, I don't see them as men; they're boys in my eyes. Jeffrey? He's a man. He's the man. I have tried so many new things with him, and felt things I didn't know I could feel. He knows exactly where it is, he knows exactly where I want it, how I want it, when I want it. This man makes sure I have everything I need at all times.
Jeffrey lives rent free in my head at this point. He's started texting good morning and goodnight every day, asking me about my day and telling me about his, calling me when I tell him I've had a shitty day at work. "Do you want me to come over and make you something good to eat or do you want me to come over so you can ride my face until you cum all over it?" he sometimes asks. When I tell him I want him to fuck my brains out so I can forget about my shitty day, he always says "you got it, beautiful baby girl". I fucking hate it. No, I actually don't. I love the way it makes me feel. I love the way he makes me feel.
He's just so...daddy. I don't know if he realizes what effect he has on me. I don't know if he realizes my heart beats fast when he holds me close to his chest or when he leans in for a kiss. I don't know if he realizes I've become addicted to the taste of Coke and sometimes whiskey on his lips.
Now I'm sat here, celebrating my friend's birthday at the club, thinking about how well he made me cum the other day. How he came to pick me up on his Harley Davidson at sunset, as if we were in a fucking movie. How he kissed my forehead before putting the helmet over my head, how he told me to "hold on tight, baby girl". Then we rode through New York City in the evening, his masculine scent stuck in my nose, and we got to his and he ate me out on the kitchen counter until I couldn't breathe.
I'm drunk and my phone is in my hand, my heart telling me to text him. He knows I'm out celebrating my friend, and he's even texted me earlier, telling me to be careful and wear protection if anything. I never replied to that, but I'm about to. "I only have eyes for you" I finally type and send without hesitation. Literally once second later, he's calling.
"Hello?" I answer. My heart is beating fast, just like every time I talk to him.
"I want to hear you say that to me," he sounds as if he just woke up. It is late though, I bet he was sleeping. "Say it baby." God I want him so bad. I need him so bad.
"I only have eyes for you" I finally say it.
The only thing I hear is an exhale, and then a whispered "fuck". "Where are you?"
"I'm at the same club as before, about to go home."
"Stay right there, I'm picking you up."
"But it's late, you should sleep."
"You heard what I said. Don't move." Yes, sir.
Twenty minutes later, he's here. He takes off his helmet and approaches me with a frown, eyes on me all the time. "Let me hear you say it again," he says before grabbing my face with both his hands.
"I only have eyes for you, daddy" I look up at him with fuck me eyes.
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"So you're telling me that my baby hasn't been kissed or touched by anyone else all this time?" he asks and I nod, still looking up at him. "Because you only think about me?" I nod again. "Because you're mine?" he asks in a low voice, and I smile. "Tell me, baby. Are you mine? Do you even want to be mine?"
