Tuesday, December 23, 2014

(Now) Kinsley: Classy Fucking Establishment

Now that Damien and I had had sex once, we couldn't stop.  This was far more my style and much more comfortable to me.  But surprisingly, I was getting better at the other stuff--the talking, the feelings, the cuddling (after sex and just for the hell of it).  I was starting to feel really comfortable with him in a way I'd never felt before.

I thought that this would scare the shit out of me, but it didn't.  In fact, I kind of liked it.  It's what inspired me to call him at lunch time on a Friday to ask him to come over after work that night.  I purposely didn't have any plans, aiming to have a relaxing night at home by myself.  But I realized I'd rather with be Damien, so I called him to ask him over for our fourteenth date (yes, still counting).

"Hey you," he answered.  "Is everything okay?"  I never called him during the work day, so I could see why he was concerned.  And I loved that he was concerned.

"Everything is fine," I assured him.  "But everything will be even better if you can come over tonight."

"What happened to your night to yourself?" he teased.  "Realized you might have other needs?"

I laughed.  "No, I just want to see you.  I do want you for more than your body, you know.  Though I do greatly appreciate your body too..."  I trailed off, not wanting to get too inappropriate in the middle of the work day.

"I'd love to see you tonight," he said.  "I'm trying to finish up some stuff on that case that came in earlier this week so I don't have to come in tomorrow, so I'm not sure when I'll be done.  Can I call you?"

"Please," I replied.  "I'll see you tonight."  We said goodbye and I hung up, giddy at the prospect of seeing him tonight.

I barely made it through the rest of the day, distracted by seeing Damien tonight.  What was wrong with me?  I stopped at the grocery store on the way home and picked some stuff up for a simple pasta with veggies and chicken.  I was no master chef, so I tended to stick to easy things that I knew how to make.

I had just gotten out of the shower after exfoliating, shaving, and washing my hair when my phone rang around 6:30.  I put it on speaker so I could get dressed.  "Hey," Damien said.  "I have about an hour or so left here, I think.  I'll see you around 8?  Unless, of course, you've changed your mind and want to stick with your night by yourself."

"No way, you're not getting out of it that easy!" I quipped.  "I'll see you around 8."

"I'm looking forward to it," he said, and I could hear his smile.

I hung up, put on a lightly scented lotion, finished getting dressed, and dried my hair.  I wished Liv was here with her makeup skills.  I tried my best for a perfectly natural-but-just-a-little-bit-better look, and didn't do too bad.

At about 7:20 I started cooking, and finished just a few minutes before Damien knocked on my door.  He hugged me tightly, then pulled away and looked at me.  "You look amazing, as always," he greeted me.  "And something smells good."

"That would be dinner," I replied with a smile.  "Unless you're not hungry."

"I'm starving," he said, pulling his shoes off and kissing me.  We sat down to eat, and after a few bites he said, "This is really good.  I had no idea you cooked."

"Just a little.  I have a few things I do really well, and then a bunch things I do okay with.  Just simple stuff, nothing fancy."

"I can't believe we've been dating for almost two months and I didn't know that you could cook," he said.  He considered for a moment, then said, "Actually, never mind, I do believe that."  He smiled to show me he was teasing.

I smirked.  "It's like a never ending treasure hunt.  What will you find out about Kinsley next?"

"So many things to say about your treasure hunt comment," he remarked, cocking an eyebrow.  "None of them are appropriate for the dinner table."

"Then I guess you'd better keep them to yourself, because this is a classy fucking establishment," I said haughtily.

"Of course it is," he replied, laughing.  "I'd expect nothing less."

When we finished, he picked up our plates over my protests and took them to the sink.  I followed him there and slipped my arms around his waist, leaning my face against his back, between his shoulder blades.   "Did you get everything done you needed to at work?" I asked.

He pulled my hands off of him so he could turn and repositioned us so my head was against his shoulder and he could wrap his arms around me.  "I did, thankfully.  I'm glad we got that one taken care of quickly.  Now I can focus on you for the rest of the night."

"I like the sound of that," I replied, relaxing against him as his hand ran up and down my back. 

As much as I wanted to have sex, I think we were both worn out from a long week.  We ended up laying together on my couch, talking about random things with the TV on softly in the background.  Eventually Damien shifted me so he could sit up and stretch.  "I'd better get going before I fall asleep," he said.

I didn't want him to leave.  I hadn't been planning on asking him to stay, and I surprised myself by wanting him to.  "You could stay," I mumbled softly.

"I didn't hear you, what did you say?" he asked as he stood.  I looked up at him to see if he was fucking with me, but he was simply waiting for my repeat myself.

"I said," I repeated a little louder, "you could stay.  Here.  If you wanted."

He looked surprised, but not in a bad way.  He sat back down next to me and said, "I would love to stay, but is that what you want?"

"Yes," I whispered.  I found my voice and said louder, "Yes, I want you to stay."

This was quickly becoming overly dramatic and uncomfortable and I was so thankful when Damien grinned and said, "I'd be honored to spend the night in this classy fucking establishment."

"Good, I'll grab you a pillow and blanket and you can make yourself comfortable on the couch," I replied.  I tried to keep a straight face but I couldn't, and Damien shook his head.

"Don't toy with me, young lady," he said, but he was laughing too.  "I wasn't planning on staying, so I don't have anything with me..."

"I have an extra toothbrush you can use," I said.  "It's new," I added quickly, which made him laugh.  "Fuck you!" I yelped.  "I just wanted to be clear."

"You're clear as crystal, sweetheart," he said, still grinning evilly at me.  I grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and whipped it at him.  He caught it easily, then wrapped an arm around my waist and threw me easily over his shoulder.  I yelped and demanded that he put me down, though I'm not sure I was terribly convincing, choking it out over my hysterical laughter.  He walked upstairs with me, as easily as if it was a scarf he'd just flung over his shoulder and not my body.

He shouldered open the mostly closed door to my room and dumped me unceremoniously on the bed.  I managed to grab onto his arms as I fell and I yanked hard.  I had just enough momentum to cause him to topple onto the bed on top of me.  I quickly scooted out from under him and got on top of him, straddling him.

"Still tired?" I asked, smirking down at him.

He ran his hands up my legs, gripped my hips, and flipped us both over easily.  "Not even close," he declared.  "Are you?"  I shook my head and he leaned down and kissed me.  "You are something else," he murmured as he moved his lips to my neck.

"A good something else or--" my gasp interrupted my own sentence as his hand slid underneath my bra and lightly pinched my nipple.  I groaned and finished, "or a bad something else?"

He pulled his mouth away from my body to answer, and I sat up and yanked my shirt up over my head and unhooked my bra.  "The best something else," he replied, looking at me seriously.

The intensity of his gaze was too much at this moment so I said lightly, "You're just saying that because you're trying to get into my pants."  I leaned up to kiss him but he pressed his fingers to my lips and stopped me.

"I'm not," he insisted, cupping my face in his hand.  "You are the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time."  I tried again to kiss him, because I was really uncomfortable now, and he must have recognized my discomfort because he kissed me back this time, hard.  I had no idea how I could possibly be the best thing that's happened to him in a long time, but I believed that he thought that.  He made it obvious. 

He sensed my distraction and pulled away again.  "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said with a smile.  "Just thinking about how I'm the best thing that's happened to you in a really long time."  He smiled back, then kissed me hungrily, and there were no more distractions.

I curled up against his chest after, like I always did.  After several minutes, Damien kissed the top of my head and asked, "Do you still want me to stay?"

"I do," I replied.

His arm around my back tightened slightly.  "Does this classy fucking establishment require sleepwear?"

I laughed.  "Um, I guess I'm not sure," I said.

"Well maybe it should, at least for tonight," he suggested.  "If you're worried about being uncomfortable with someone sleeping in your bed for the first time, pajamas might make a difference."  I hadn't even considered this, and the fact that he was worried about doing this in the most comfortable way possible for me was incredibly sweet and mind-blowing, compared to the reaction I usually got.

"Yeah, good point," I agreed.  I stood up and pulled on a tank top and pair of shorts while Damien tugged his boxers back on.  He held up his shirt in question and I shook my head.  "Not unless you want to, I like you better without it anyway."  He chuckled and tossed it back on the floor before heading into the bathroom.  When he came out, I went in.  I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and gave myself a pep talk about not being ridiculous about a man sleeping in my bed.

When I came out of the bathroom, Damien was sitting on the edge of the bed.  "Do you have a side?" he asked.

"I usually just sleep in the middle...but I think I prefer the right side?" He climbed into bed on the left side, closer to the door. 

"Good, I like the left.  That works out well," he said, smiling.  I was surprised at how this was going.  The fact that I wouldn't spend the night with a guy was something I had been subjected to taunting over from anyone I had had sex with more than once.  People find the stupidest things to mock you for.

I switched the light off and scooted towards Damien, shifting so my back was to him.  After a brief (probably surprised and confused) pause, he pressed his chest against my back and wrapped an arm around me.  I settled back against him, and now that I was comfortable with him here, in my bed, I could understand why people liked this.

In the dark, it was easier to say feelings out loud.  "Damien?" I asked softly.

"Hmm?" he responded, nuzzling his face against my neck.

"Thank you," I said.

"For?"

"For being understanding about my weird sleeping thing.  And not pushing it.  And being really considerate of it tonight and thinking through some of the details for me.  I...well, it means a lot."  My face got warm as I talked.

"You're welcome, though I feel weird saying that, because I feel weird about you thanking me.  That's what people in relationships do," he said.

"Are we in a relationship?" I asked curiously.

"I consider us in a relationship," he confirmed.  "Do you not?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," I admitted.  "I guess so.  I mean, I do.  It's not like I'm seeing anyone else, or want to, or anything.  I'm sorry, I'm a little thrown off by the circumstances under which we're having this conversation."

His fingers stroked the inside of my forearm, sending a shiver up my spine.  "Don't apologize, I get it.  So if we make it through the night, do I get to call you my girlfriend?" 

"Sure," I replied, smiling in the dark.  "But only if we make it through the night."





13 comments:

  1. I almost held off reading this, because I'm going to miss having these posts during the holiday and thought I'd save it for later in the week. But your writing is just too damn good ;) Loved this. Thanks for making such strong female characters who are comfortable navigating their own little quirks.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I feel the same way as the previous commenter. I've been spacing out ready blog posts, knowing there was going to be fewer (understandably), but I couldn't help myself!! I love Kinsley's story!! Thank you and Merry Christmas!!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I can't space out the ones i read. I see a post, I read it as soon as I can. Thank you, and Merry Christmas to you, too!

      Delete
  3. Wow. Just wow. Loved this post so so so much. Beautiful job!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Kinsley is the best! I love her and Damian but I must admit, I'm still kinda hoping for Michael to make a comeback!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Aww, Kinsley is in love! Like I love your blog! Merry Christmas!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. In love, huh? Maaaaaybe.... Thank you! I hope you had a great holiday!

      Delete
  6. Loving Kinsley. Happy holidays.

    www.elinainlondon.com

    ReplyDelete