The Other Other Woman (34 page)

“Yeah, I think so, babe…”

I was so happy to be able to see his face again. He quickly wrapped my legs around him, and I threw my arms around his neck for support as he filled me again. Oh God, he still felt so good. Honestly, I was getting a little tired now. We were well into our second hour, but I wanted him to finish and–more importantly–I wanted to watch that look of desperate need take over his sweet face as he started to lose control.

I pulled my mouth up to his chest and kissed his nipple, while rubbing the other with my fingers. His hands clenched around my hips and he moaned breathlessly as he pumped harder and faster. I moved to the other side and sealed my lips over top of the other one and he began to shudder as he continued to drive his cock into me. There was that look. Suddenly, I felt his whole body quake as he finally went over the edge, followed by his cry of “YES YES OH YESSSSSSSSSS!!!” His cock jerked with every warm pulse of liquid he spilled into me.

I caught him as he fell on top of me, completely spent, and completely drained. Both of our chests pounded against each other as we tried to catch our breath. I shivered, catching a chill as the sweat from both of us pooled on my skin, and I huddled into him for warmth. He was dripping wet and too exhausted to move. For several minutes I tried to ignore the fact that I really, really had to pee. I was just so comfortable where I was. Unfortunately, I had to go. I kissed his lips and said, “Be right back.” He nodded and smiled and I ran into the bathroom.

As I sat down, I noticed instantly that something was awry. I thought I just had a little piece of lint stuck in my hair or something, but as I reached down I realized, quite to my horror, that it was not a piece of lint at all. I had a giant wad of rolled up toilet paper all stuck up in my lady business. Giant was perhaps an over-exaggeration. It was probably the size of a centimeter, but for the love of all that is holy, how long had that been stuck up in there and worse… HIS MOUTH, HIS TONGUE, AND TWO OF HIS EYES WERE DOWN THERE. Did he see it? Did he think “My God, this woman is 36 years old and still doesn’t know how to properly clean her junk?!” Ironically, I was practically obsessed with cleanliness of that nature. So much so that I always packed baby wipes with me for that one last swipe of freshness to make sure I was extra clean. Yet there I sat, alone and lonely on a toilet seat of the Greensboro Marriott… foiled by Charmin. This sort of injustice could only happen to me.

Half laughing and half silently crying, I threw it in the toilet and relieved myself. I quickly rinsed off in the shower, brushed my teeth, and came out with a washcloth to address any wet spots. He was sound asleep, right where I left him. He was going to need a shower, but I decided to let him sleep for now. He looked so peaceful, and besides, it was past his bedtime. I sat next to him on the bed and texted Brooke. We texted each other every night, usually over the course of a couple of hours, so she was happy to hear things were going very well.

But then I hit a little snag…

What do you mean a snag?

Well, it appears I did not notice that I had a stowaway up in my vajayjay.

Um, say what now?

Yeah, I guess when I peed earlier today I didn’t notice a little rolled up piece of TP took residence up in my crevices. And I just found it… you know… after we did EVERYTHING.

Everything?

EVERRRYTHING.

OMG Didn’t you use a baby wipe?!?

Boy, did she know me.
Clearly I did NOT. I was just peeing!

LMAO. Did he see it?! Please tell me he didn’t see it!

I don’t know!! He’s still here, so I guess that’s a good sign. But he would practically have to be blind not to see it, considering his close proximity and first-hand knowledge of the ENTIRE AREA.

She sent me a picture of herself in the bathtub, a close-up of tears streaming down her face while she laughed at me. When I got the picture, I was trying to be quiet and stifle my own laughter which just ended up making it worse because I let out a big snort that made me shake the bed from laughing so hard. He stirred awake and shot me a look like cranky old men get when you wake them up.

“Who in the world are you talking to?” he asked, noticing my phone in my hand.

“Just Brooke… Not about you though!” I quickly added.

“Thought so. You two are ridiculous.”

He sat up and patted my leg while he shook his head. I gave his ass a hard slap as he got up to go get a quick shower. I made the bed back up before getting in so it would be more comfortable when he returned. Once clean, he slipped in beside me and kissed me goodnight. I started off in the crook of his arm with my arm around his chest. He still smelled so delicious. I would have assumed that being close to him while trying to sleep would have bothered me. I liked to be my own personal island while I slept, nothing touching me and no one stealing my airspace. But I was different now. Just like all of our previous times together, I found touching him completely irresistible. Even as we tossed and turned during the night, we had some part of our bodies touching, sometimes just a leg intertwined or holding hands. In the middle of the night, however, I became boiling hot. So I kicked off the covers and I just lay there burning up. I was rubbing his back trying to distract myself from the sweltering room temperature until finally I couldn’t take it anymore and whispered to him, “Baby, are you hot? I’m dying in here!”

He very grumpily responded, “Well, turn up the A/C!”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I could do that.”

I fumbled around trying to find the A/C in the dark, and then, having no idea what I set it on, I climbed back into bed. Within about an hour I was freezing my ass off. But rather than poke the bear again, I just tried to snuggle against him for warmth. He kissed my forehead as I burrowed underneath him, so he must not have minded too much.

Around six a.m., as much as I tried to deny it, I had to get up to pee again. I figured while I was up, I might as well brush my teeth too so I didn’t knock him over with my breath. I crawled back into bed with him, and he stirred a little bit, lifting his head and smacking his lips around.

“Morning breath?” I asked.

“Oh, I GOTS it!” he replied.

“Well lay it on me, stinky,” I said.

He grinned and gave me a very tight lipped kiss and quickly got up to brush his teeth too. He came back to bed and we rested against each other, our eyes closed, completely naked and huddled together. I can’t remember who started it, I think it was his fault, but we started kissing very softly and slowly, lazily really, still half-asleep. The sun had not yet begun to rise, so it was still quite dark in the room. There was just a faint beam of light from street lamps outside casting a warm romantic glow through the window over his handsome face. Looking at him there, I was the happiest I had been in years. Being able to be so close to him in what was left of the darkness was pure bliss. We were both still groggy, but he looked so good, I just had to have him. So, I kissed him with a little more passion, ran my fingers over his back with just a little more enthusiasm and wrapped my leg over him just a little more tightly. How convenient for me that his naked chest was right up against mine. I brushed my hand through his soft chest hair as I kissed him, making sure to tap my fingers over his trouble spots, knowing that anything coming near them was sure to cause a reaction. He gave a heavy, tired sigh as he pulled his lips away.

“Mallory… are you trying to seduce me this early in the morning?”

“Not at all. And quite frankly, sir, I’m offended by the implication,” I answered, as I took his nipple in my mouth and licked it, watching him the entire time.

“Oh, so that’s how it is? Two can play at that game,” he said, cupping my entire breast in one hand and drawing it to his mouth, licking and sucking my nipple while I moaned quietly against him. We remained there, kissing and caressing each other very leisurely for several minutes, still trying to wake up. He was going to try to pretend that I was bothering him until I felt something thick and hard rubbing up against my thigh.

“Oh, so I see you aren’t interested in any shenanigans this morning,” I laughed, reaching down to squeeze him.

“Nope, not interested in the least…” he replied mischievously, turning me under his weight slightly and knocking my legs apart with one quick swivel of his hips. God bless those hips.

He must have known I was sore from all that monkey business the night before because he very cautiously slid inside me, watching my face for obvious signs of distress. I couldn’t help but gasp really loudly, even though he was very gentle. Sweet Jesus, it was tender. Still, I was prepared to power through until sunrise. I realized that I only had a short time left with him and I wanted to make the most of it. As he began to move, my eyes welled with tears, but it wasn’t from physical pain. I just couldn’t imagine having to let him go again in just a few short hours.

“You okay, sweetie?!” he said, seemingly alarmed. He stopped for a moment. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, baby,” I responded. “Just go really slow… I don’t want this to end.” Realistically, I knew I was going to see him in just a couple of weeks, but still.

“Aw, me either, sweetheart,” he said, holding my head and kissing me softly.

Any of my emotional tender spots dissipated with his kiss as we continued to make love in the semi-darkness. In fact, I was feeling pretty darn good all over, until about 20 minutes in when a most unfortunate event occurred. I was comfortably pressed back against his chest and grasping the headboard for support, when suddenly he lost his erection. Permanently I guess, because he made no excuses or substitutions. Everything just came to a grinding, awkward halt and he, rather nonchalantly, declared, “Well, babe, I guess two and a half times is going to be it for a 24-hour period.”

I’m not sure that I was able to hide my disappointment. I don’t have a very good poker face. It wasn’t so much that I was disappointed that we had to stop, it was more the way he was so matter-of-fact about it, non-apologetic even, as if nothing had happened. Maybe it was just his way of saving face, and the last thing I would have wanted was for him to be embarrassed. It honestly wasn’t a big deal. I just would have expected someone you were close to be like, “Damn, baby, I’m sorry; this happens sometimes because of my medication… IT’S NOT YOU.” Because at that particular moment, with this being the second time, I very much felt like it was me.

In his defense, he did continue to hug me and kiss me for a minute or two, but not once did he offer any words of reassurance. There was that awkward pause that I didn’t think we had in our relationship. I felt guilty and somewhat selfish because out of the two of us, he was probably the one who needed reassurance. But how could I comfort him when he pretended there was no issue? What would I say anyway, “Sorry about your boner?” I have always struggled with supportive phrases and saying the wrong thing. I was so much better at buying people presents or baking them a cake or something, but I don’t think a cake would have been appropriate in this situation. I mean, I still would have eaten it… but no. I tried my best to lay affection on him as thickly as possible, to let him know I still found him as gorgeous as always because I did. I hugged him tightly while we were still lying there together; rubbing his back while I kissed him all over his face, making sure to gaze adoringly into his eyes like I normally would. It seemed to work. After several minutes of that, we were both smiling and joking again and seemed back to normal, snuggling and watching TV. He got up to throw on some clothes and offered to go to the lobby to get us some breakfast and coffee. I thought that was an awesome idea.

Once he was gone, I was just getting ready to text Jules to let her know how things were going when I had an epiphany of sorts. The light bulb in my feeble little brain flipped on. The man was using Viagra. Suddenly, so many things made sense. That’s why he was always so hot-to-trot after meals and wine. That explained why he couldn’t make it happen whenever I caught him by surprise… he hadn’t taken anything. He didn’t have incredible stamina, he was doping like Lance Armstrong! I don’t know how I hadn’t figured it out before, but looking back, I bet he had used it every time we were together. He must have just planned it better and taken it right before he knew he was going to see me. Then he would take it afterwards when he was chowing down on snacks and wine so he would be ready for round two. Maybe that was why he always seemed to cut oral sex a little short, because he knew he’d be one and done. Good thing… because I always thought I knew what I was doing, but I had actually started to question my skills in that area.

That very first night he wanted to run out for condoms, I bet he wanted to run out and pop a little blue pick-me-up instead. I chuckled to myself; it was so not an issue to me, really. It’s not like it’s an uncommon problem for men his age, but I had never been with one before, so it just never occurred to me. He certainly never acted like he had any issues whenever our conversations turned sexual, which at one point, was 99% of the time.

I was probably just stupidly in love with him, but uncovering this little tidbit made him somehow even more attractive to me. It was as if I was seeing a private, more real side of him, a certain vulnerability. Despite being wickedly handsome, intelligent and wealthy, he had imperfections too. When he returned with my eggs and coffee, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him like he had just returned from the war. I bet he found it really odd considering he was only gone for about 15 minutes.

We sat at the little table by the window and ate our breakfast. He was dressed in a black Under Armour workout shirt, which looked spectacular against his solid biceps, and some tan cargo shorts. With his baseball cap turned backwards so he could see, he looked like he was about 28. His little curls cascaded out from around the rim, ridiculously adorable. I took a couple more pictures of him with my phone. I wish I had thought to take some of us together, but I was never happy with the way I looked in pictures anyway. Any photos that I sent to him in the past had been put through a rigorous screening process to make sure I didn’t have anything in my teeth or any wayward eyebrow hairs.