His eyes draw me in, so big and clear and blue as the ocean. I'm leaning into him, falling freely into his gaze.
“Yeah, you’re right, that sounds good.” His words are soothing, calming me instantly.
The tears subside, my breathing levels, and the alcohol is doing its job. It's pushing me up the hill on the other side of the drop I just hit. I'm going home with a guy, it's exactly what I was looking for all night, although this wasn’t exactly the approach I’d been planning. Who knew a snot covered face and total emotional breakdown might reel one in?
Maybe I will get some tonight. . .
2
Anders
Glancing over at passenger side, the girl is leaning against my arm as we drive back to my cabin. Her jacket is open, and her skirt is riding up her thighs, giving me little peeks of the lace top of her thigh highs.
My eyes keep drifting from the road to the soft skin of her legs and the way her cleavage pops as her chest lifts with every breath. My blood starts to pump hard and my cock is firming.
What the hell am I doing?
I only came down into town from my cabin because my power went out and I ran out of gas for the generator. Normally I can live my life without socializing much in town. Every once in a while I'll make an appearance, catch up on the town gossip and goings on.
Today was one of those days. I ran a few errands to stock up on some essentials, shot the shit with Gerry when I bought some gas for the generator, and ordered a bowl of Candice's gumbo. The plan was enjoy my gumbo, say hello to a few neighbors, and then retreat back home. I’d be good on any socializing for the next few weeks. I didn't intend for my trip to end like this, with a nameless girl, drunk in my front seat, balling her eyes out because she's an emotional drunk.
She is gorgeous though, even with black smudges of make-up running under her swollen red eyes and pink lip gloss that's been wiped across her cheeks. With curly black hair that's pulled back at her bangs, and porcelain skin with rosy red cheeks, she looks like Snow White.
Turning the wheel, my elbow brushes her chest and I can feel the softness of her tit. The cab is small, and I don't have much room to maneuver with this girl squished against me. My dick is thickening as every turn equals a swipe across her tit, and I'm not sure if she's doing this on purpose or if she's just too drunk to notice.
Pulling up the long dirt road to my cabin, the truck bounces and bucks over the dips and holes. Hitting a large dip, the girl's hand jumps into my lap, landing on my cock.
Clearing my throat loudly, I wait for her to pull away, but she doesn't.
“Look—,” I start to say as I pull her hand off my dick. Looking down at her, her head rocks on her shoulders, and her eyes are closed.
She's sleeping. . .
Softly, I place her hand in her lap. Her head falls against my shoulder, but I don't move it. I like having her there, it feels. . . Nice.
Her hair smells like lilacs, and it smells so good I inhale another deep breath. My nose is hovering over her head, and my hands itch to wrap around her shoulder. My cock jerks in my pants as she lets out a little coo under her breath as she exhales.
I want to fuck her right here. My dick hurts, it's painfully pushing against my zipper as my eyes keep drifting to her chest. Her tits look so perfect, so plump and lickable. I could run my tongue all over her body, tasting her, enjoying every inch of her.
Nope. Not happening. Pushing this urge away to take her, I force my eyes back on the road.
My cabin comes into view, and I'm able to let out the breath I've been holding in. Throwing the car into park, the girl suddenly sits up straight, her eyes wide open as she yawns.
“Are we here?”
“Yup, this is my place.” Tugging on my jeans, I try to adjust my dick.
“It's pretty dark out here,” she says as she opens her door and jumps to the ground, still on pretty unsteady feet.
“Well, we are out in the middle of the woods, plus my power is out right now.” She follows me as I walk to the door. Flipping through my keys, I find the right one and open the door.
The girl walks right past me as the door swings open, making a straight line for the fridge. She tears open the door and sticks her head inside like she lives here. It’s like I have my own little sexy Goldilocks.
Closing the door behind me, I light the lantern on the table beside me, and walk to the island in the center of the kitchen, setting it down.
She's mumbling to herself as she rummages around, and I can make out only a word or two at a time. “Where. . . This might. . . mumble mumble. No, not. . . mumble mumble. Ah, here we go.”
With a block of cheese in her hand, she starts to pull open cupboards. “Cup? Where are your cups?”
“Upper right,” I say, pointing.
She grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water from the sink. “Salt?”
“On the stove.” Quirking an eyebrow, I have no idea what she's doing.
Her body shifts, twisting to the stove with both the cheese and water. Setting the cup down, she starts to pour salt into the water. After six or seven shakes, she downs the entire glass and follows it with a big bite of cheese.
What the hell?
Chuckling to myself, I continue to watch the strangest thing I've ever seen. And yet, I can't help but smile, weird as it is, I'm genuinely laughing and smiling, and that hasn't happened in years.
It feels good to be laughing like this. The smile on my face is real, it's not forced or fake or half-assed to make people feel comfortable or just to fit in. I’m watching this strange girl in my kitchen, I don’t know anything about her, and it’s so absurd I can’t help but let the laugh just bubble out of me.
She fills the cup again and downs it, then bites the cheese, fills it again and eats more cheese. She does this three times before letting out a loud gush of air, then puts the cup in the sink and the cheese back in the fridge. She leans against the counter and gets a serious look on her face.
“There, that's better. Want to make out now?” Launching herself at me, I catch her by the elbows and hold her at arm’s length.
“Whoa, slow down there.”
She's drunk, really, really drunk. It wouldn't be right to do this, not with her like this. No matter how much my cock is begging to be inside her, to feel her heat, to suck on her tits and taste her pussy, I just can't stoop to that level.
I won't do that to her. I won't let her wake up feeling ashamed and taken advantage of. I'm not that guy. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror if I knew I’d been with her when she wasn’t completely sober. No matter how fantastic is could be, and looking at her body, I know it would be a night to remember. But no. I’d never cross that line.
Taking a long step back to put some distance between us, she takes a big step in, her lids lowering seductively.
“What do you mean “slow down”? You brought me home with you, don't you want to fuck me?” Her hands fall to her hips, and as she takes another step, she wobbles, almost losing her balance. “Hm? Don't you want this anymore?”
Anymore? What is she talking about?
“Look, it's not that I don't, but you're drunk.” My hands are out and up, and I'm continuing to walk backwards as she closes in on me.