Your cock is beautiful – 10

“Your cock is beautiful” Part-10 Continues……

It was fun, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

I didn’t know exactly where I wanted this to go next, but I knew it couldn’t be rushed. I spent a long time there, thinking and planning, before I got dried off, dressed, and headed out.

Mia was already in the kitchen, and something smells incredible. I sat down, and was surprised when she put a plate down in front of me. I looked up to see a wide, sincere smile on her face, before she turned back to the counter.

She’d made French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon, and she quickly returned to put a glass of orange juice in front of me, again shooting me that smile.

I had no idea how to react to this.

Dumbfounded, I took a sip of juice and watched her clean up, putting the food away and rinsing the pan she’d used. I looked back down at my food, disbelieving. On a long list of impossible things, I’d always thought it would be a safe bet that Mia making me post-sex breakfast would be pretty close to the top.

I turned to glance at the clock, seeing that it was almost 2 pm.

“I know it’s a little late for breakfast.” she said, watching me.

I snapped my head around quickly. She was standing by the counter, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“But…” she continued uncertainty, “But you didn’t eat anything when you got up, and…I thought…”

Her voice started to falter, and she got quieter after each word.

“Thought…you might…want something…” she finished, dropping her gaze.

I watched her for maybe 10 seconds, just trying to wrap my head around this. It made sense, really, didn’t it? She’d said she loved me. Something like this would be normal for a couple. But I was still thinking of this as just a sexual thing. We could act friendly at other times, but it was the sex that mattered. Cooking for me was just too weirdly domestic.

She eventually met my eye again, glancing occasionally at the food. She opened her mouth to speak, then looked away again. Her fingers were tapping out a steady rhythm on the side of her coffee cup.

She seemed to have been really affected by my attitude earlier. Even when I’d been angry with her in the past, she hadn’t reacted like this. It was like she was walking on eggshells, afraid to even look at me, her body language only hinting at unsaid apologies and questions. She’d probably thought she’d upset me somehow, and was just making sure I wasn’t pissed enough to send her away without sex the next time she came to my room, like I had last night.

She walked around me to the stool on the other end of the counter, closer to the TV. There was something weird about how she was walking.

“You’re limping.” I said, before realizing what it meant.

“Yeah, well…whose fault is that?” she replied as she sat down. There was humor in her voice, but she sounded so nervous.

I looked back at the food. My stomach suddenly started churning, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since last night’s dinner. I sighed and picked up the knife and fork she’d given me. If she wanted to cook for me then I guess there was no harm in letting her, whatever her reasons were.

As I raised the first fork to my mouth, I glanced at her. She was just gazing at me, excitement clear on her face. She seemed to realize that she was staring, and quickly turned to face the TV.

I slowly took my first bite and let the familiar, yet strangely intense flavor wash over me. The food tasted incredible, but I put that down to my own hunger. I mean, how much can you really do with a breakfast this simple? I forced myself to eat slowly. As much as I wanted to wolf the whole thing down, it seemed a little embarrassing to do it in front of her.

Too soon, I was finished. A small sigh of contentment slipped out of me, and I realized that Mia had turned to face me again. She looked so happy, so adoring, that it was honestly starting to scare me. There was a beat of silence before she jumped up and swept the plate and glass off the table, and brought them to the sink. She quickly rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher before taking her seat beside me.

She was still staring at me.

“Thanks, Mia. That was…great.” I said.

Her smile became impossibly more joyful, and she stood up. She made the smallest of movements towards me, but stopped herself from taking a step. I sighed, stood up, and pulled her into a gentle kiss. She leaned into me, but after only a second her body jumped in surprise as we heard the front door open. She pulled away quickly, but I unthinkingly tightened my arms around her.

Impulsively, I kissed her again, this time biting hard on her lower lip, while grabbing her ass with both hands. She whimpered into my mouth but didn’t move.

“You guys?” Stella shouted from the hall, “Little help?”

I held Mia tighter as I felt her pull from me, biting harder on her lip and really digging my fingers into her ass. She let out another small moan, and I felt her lean into me for the barest of seconds before I released her, and walked quickly past her.

Between Mia and the hall, I smiled to myself. Even holding her like that, hurting and scaring her just that little bit, almost felt more satisfying than everything we’d done upstairs.

Stella had gone a little crazy with the shopping, probably trying to waste as much time as possible so she wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward situation she was in with Mia. Even though she’d been struggling with armfuls of plastic bags, there were still more in the car. It took us a while to get everything in the house and put it away, but we definitely had enough food now, at least.

As the night progressed, I found that Mia had been right about Stella’s reaction. She was a little quiet, at first, but it didn’t take long for her to go back to normal, joking around with us like always.

And apart from a few secret smiles at me when Stella wasn’t looking, by the time Mia left everything seemed to be back to normal with her too. On the surface, anyway.

But if everything went how I was planning with Mia, things were about to take another interesting turn.

==

The following Friday she came to the house just after 7 pm, way earlier than usual.

I still hadn’t told her anything about what I was feeling for her, how I caught myself thinking about her eyes, or her laugh, and smiling to myself. Or how much I enjoyed and anticipated our conversations. Or how passing her in the halls at school and seeing her smile at me now usually gave me a pleasing little jolt of adrenaline, rather than the shudder of fear and disgust I used to feel.

But I also didn’t tell her about the darker side of my feelings. I didn’t tell her that the memories of how she treated me were still bright and vivid in my mind. That when I wasn’t mooning over her like the teen-aged idiot that I knew I was being, I still felt a deep-seated wave of repulsion and hatred whenever I thought about her. The feelings weren’t even separate in my mind any more, they were mixed together in some sort of sweet, black, violent affection that just plain confused the shit out of me.

But talking with her felt so easy now, so natural. I caught myself laughing along with a little in-joke we shared with Stella, and I realized that I was closer to her than I was with any of my so-called friends at school. I was probably closer to her than I’d ever been with anyone outside my family. How could I like someone I hated so much?

I didn’t tell her any of this, and I didn’t have to. I just laughed along with them, and tried not to think about what it meant. Instead I focused on what we were going to do when we were alone.

That night she knocked on my door just a little after midnight.

“Come in.” I said.

I’d been practicing my voice. I was speaking more from the chest, and trying to be a lot clearer than I was in everyday conversation. It didn’t sound drastically different, but I thought it sounded better, more masculine.

She slipped quietly into the room. She was wearing her negligee again, a see-through black gown that ended about an inch past her waist, fixed to a black bra that gave her incredible cleavage, and held up by small shoulder straps. Through the thin weave I could see she was wearing matching panties this time. I found my eye drawn to her long, smooth legs. As I studied her, I noticed that she’d even painted her toenails black.

“Hi.” I said finally.

“Hi.” she echoed, smiling.

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