"Hey, is that anyway to treat you're pregnant girlfriend?"
"Damn, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" My eyes search her body for any possible injury. As I get to her face, I can see her tight lips forcefully trying to contain a smile.
"Oh God, this is too much!" She flops down on the couch in hysterical laughter, leaving me completely confused.
"What am I missing here?" I ask, then notice that I'm standing naked in front of a laughing woman. I pull on my jeans, not bothering to button them before I continue questioning her. "What are you laughing about?" I ask a little too harshly.
If she noticed my tone at all, it didn't seem to affect her. I stand annoyed with my hands on my hips, staring at this obviously insane woman rolling around naked on the couch in a fit of laughter. Finally able to compose herself, she wipes away her tears and pulls me down to the couch next to her.
"I'm sorry,” she says, moving to straddling my lap. "I'm on birth control. No babies." She starts to giggle again, but I level her with an annoyed glare. I breathe out a relieved sigh as she continues, "I didn't mean to forget about the condom, I just got carried away. I'm clean though. You don't have to worry about that either," she rains sweet apologetic kisses all over my face.
"You're evil."
"And dirty," she replies moving her kissing down to my neck.
"You better show me some more of that dirty to make up for your lame jokes."
"My pleasure," she smiles, sinking to the floor between my knees.
Brett
OVER THE course of the following months, Sarah and I alternated between her house and mine, never sleeping a night apart. We made love, ordered take out, sometimes she cooked, sometimes she laughed at me while I attempted to cook, and occasionally, we forgot to eat all together. Sarah was more than I ever could have expected from the tight red dress I met one random solo night at the club. She was smart, beautiful, sexy, and funny. God, she was so damn funny.
We would spend hours making up stupid games just to challenge each other. That nutty woman was the most competitive person I have ever met. We played Jeopardy every night, keeping track of how many answers we each got right. The winner received absolutely nothing but bragging rights, but for us that was the most coveted prize of all.
"You cheater!" I scream walking back into the room carrying her glass of wine. "I told you to pause it."
"No way. You can't pause Jeopardy! You walk out of the room, you forfeit those questions to me. So now I'm up, twelve to nine."
"I only got up because you asked for another glass of wine!"
"Well it's not my fault that you lack the ability to say no to a sexy woman." She bats her eyelashes at me.
"Oh, well in that case...” I turn the glass, pouring two drops onto the wood floor.
"Don't you dare, Brett Sharp! You know that's my last glass of wine." She jumps up from the couch trying to snatch it from me.
"What's the score, Sarah?"
"Twelve to nine."
"Wrong answer." I pour out two more drops.
"Brett! Stop being an ass. I'm serious. Don't pour out my wine!" She stands up on the chair next to me trying to jump high enough to reach it. She is by no means short, but I've got her by at least six inches.
"What's the score?"
"You know what, just forget it. You can pour out the wine." She walks back to the couch, sitting down and propping her feet up on the ottoman.
Shit...this means trouble.
Sarah never gives up this easy. Last week we had almost the exact same fight over a "friendly" game of Uno. It ended with my balls being so blue, they were registering on the purple side of the color spectrum. She pretended to give up, walking away just like she did tonight. However, last week when I got close enough to her, she dropped to her knees giving me the most amazing blow job ever to be performed. She kept me on edge for over an hour, working me with her mouth as only Sarah could. When I finally couldn't take it anymore, desperate with need to come, she kissed the tip and whispered to my throbbing cock, "Sorry, but I definitely said Uno first," then walked out of the room.
Trying to shake off the horrible memory, I say, "I'm not letting you near my dick this time."
"Okay." She continues to stare at the TV screen.
"I'm serious."
"Oh, I have no doubt that you are, Brett," she says with an evil smile on her face as she reaches down, pulling her shirt over her head.
"Shit," I say as I watch her lick her fingers and circle her nipples.
"It's really a shame you won't be letting me anywhere near that big dick of yours tonight. You looked insanely hot when you came home all sweaty from the gym tonight. It took everything I had to actually cook dinner and not touch myself knowing you were naked in my shower." She continues to stroke her breasts, while one hand drifts down her stomach stopping at waist band of her shorts.