Page 4 of Sweeter Than Fiction
I love a dirty-talking woman, but it’s pretty obvious that she’s doing it mainly for show.
She’s doing it because she thinks it’s what I like. While I don’t hate it, it’s not my favorite thing either. I’d rather have a woman act naturally and not just do what she assumes I want. I look up at her as she throws her long mane of silky black hair and she starts to moan louder.
Shar is the latest in a string of meaningless hookups. Ever since I came to New York a couple of years ago, it seems like that’s about all I’ve had. After learning long-distance relationships don’t work, I tried actually dating a little. But it never went any further than dinner and a few crazy nights in the sack. After a while, it was just easier to jump straight to the sex.
Less expectations that way.
Shar moves from moaning to full-on screaming.
If I’m being honest, the first time she does it startles me a little. If I wasn’t balls-deep inside her right now, my dick probably would have gone soft.
If she’s going to be so extra, I may as well give her something to really scream about. Holding onto her, I flip her over so that she’s underneath me. Angling her long legs on my shoulders, I start pounding into her—rough and fast.
My eyes travel to the restraints on my bed posts. I consider using them to tie her up, but I’m really not in the mood.
I could just fuck her quick and dirty and be done with it. But I’m not nearly that selfish. If she’s not getting off too, what the hell is the point?
Reaching between us, I use my thumb to rub her clit until she’s coming beneath me. This time, her moans are much more genuine. She doesn’t put on an act. Some may question if she’s faking it, but any man who can’t tell faking from the real thing is an idiot.
Once she comes, I follow her over the edge, filling the condom.
After we finish, I don’t hurry her out the door, but she doesn’t hang around either.
Thank God.
I’m ready to be alone.
When I walk her to the door, she leans up to give me a soft kiss. “Call me if you ever want to have some more fun.”
Yeah, probably not going to happen.
I give a small smile in return, and then, she’s gone.
I walk back into my apartment, collapse on the couch, and enjoy the quiet for a moment.
What the hell am I doing?
Back in Nebraska, I had a serious girlfriend. Someone I was sure I’d spend the rest of my life with. Then, I got an amazing offer to head up a huge construction project in New York City. Taking the job meant we would have enough money to make all our dreams come true. The plan was for her to eventually join me out here.
She altered the plan, though, opting instead to cheat on me with my best friend.
When I was ready to start dating again, I quickly learned that finding a real connection with anyone in this big city was easier said than done.
Hooking up, though? That’s a lot easier.
The trouble is that most of the women I bring home I have nothing in common with. We can barely even carry on a conversation without it turning awkward.
Getting naked and not talking always seems like a better option. But I have to admit that my life here is getting lonely. Well, it’s always been lonely, but now, the sex isn’t doing as much to even it out.
Listen to me—I’ve finally gotten to a point where I have some decent money in the bank and a ton of no-strings-attached pussy. And I’m still complaining.
I just wish I had someone to spend time with. Someone who doesn’t just see dollar signs or some decent dick. A woman who actually gives a fuck about what I have to say.
A minute ago, I was happy about the quiet, and now, I’m right back to hating it. Kicking up my feet on the coffee table and pulling out my phone, I start a video call with my sister.
After two rings, a face appears on the screen. But instead of my sister, it’s my adorable niece, Kaylee. She’s almost four and is my favorite human being on the planet.
“Uncle D!”
