Different, but hot.
“Do you need anything for the party on Friday?” Gwen asks, once we’ve all finished with our meals.
My dad looks up and takes Charlie’s hand in his. I find my eyes transfixed on the giant diamond on her left hand. He really wasted no time in asking her or planning an engagement party. If they keep going at this rate, they’ll be married by Sunday.
With a smile, he shakes his head. “No. Thank you, though.”
“It’s really casual,” Charlie adds. “Just some drinks and hors d’oeuvres.”
He’s spinning her ring between his fingers, and my jaw clenches. Instead of joining the conversation, I pick up my iPad and start doodling again. This whole thing is so fucking awkward, and I don’t know if the fact that no one acknowledges how weird it is makes me more angry or thankful.
It was Charlie’s mom who started inviting me out for family dinners, and at first, I appreciated the thought. Over the past year, I’ve slowly started to win over Sophie, but being around Charlie and my dad never really got any less weird. I just keep waiting for them to decide their relationship is ridiculous and break up.
But that dumb rock on her hand and the even dumber smile on his face say otherwise.
Lying in bed, later that night, I can’t stop thinking about the Domme. Even after deciding I didn’t hate what she said, I still haven’t quite worked up a response. And maybe I never will. She’s just a random woman on the internet I chatted with for a couple hours today. And there are a hundred other locals to scroll through, who would probably be happy to tell me the exact same thing.
But there’s something…fuck, what’s the opposite of intimidating? Unintimidating? Yeah, I guess there’s something unintimidating about her also being new to this.
God, what am I even saying? I am not interested in getting into anything kinky. Everything she said about me being as good looking as I think I am and getting pussy regularly was accurate.
But so was the part about not being satisfied.
But only a little unsatisfied. Sex is still sex. Even when it’s bad, it’s still good.
And that’s really what this is about, isn’t it? Sex. Neither of us are looking for a relationship or to be a part of the lifestyle. We’re just looking for sex compatibility.
In that case…why not? Why not just message her back, maybe meet up once or twice. Let it go where it wants to go and hey, if she wants to be a little bossy in the sack, then I’m down for that. I’d let an older woman ride me like a bull. Who the fuck wouldn’t?
Not to mention, I have a point to make here. She thinks I’m brainwashed into believing I can’t be the brat she needs to tame, well then, I’ll show her.
With my tablet in my lap, I open a new sketch. Then I let my fingers go wherever they want, and before I know it, I’m sketching a woman. Curvy hips, thick thighs, mousy brown hair, and round glasses perched on her face. I literally have no idea what this lady looks like, but in my imagination, this is her. I even draw on the black dress and red cardigan.
Then I pick up my phone and type up a message before I can change my mind.
You’re wrong.
It doesn’t take long before she replies.
Am I?
Yes.
You think I’m too stubborn to accept a woman being in control. But I can.
Is that so?
Don’t believe me?
Not really.
So, let me prove it.
This time, there’s a long pause before she says anything else.
My age doesn’t bother you?