tagNovels and NovellasBetter Ch. 12

Better Ch. 12

byMsQuote©

Chapter 12 - Robert

That nervous feeling the first time introducing a new girlfriend to the family never seems to get any easier to deal with regardless of how old you are or how many times you’ve do it, and this was something I haven’t done since the first time I brought Brianne around. Even though this was just introducing Andrea to my brother Rick, his wife Julie and a few of our mutual friends, I still felt like grasshoppers were jumping all over the insides of my belly. Had it been all six of us kids, their kids and my parents, it would have been way too much. I was grateful he offered to pull off this party just to be my wing man to break her into the clan.

Rick was the only one of my siblings I ever talked to about Andrea. I was closest to Rick out of all of my siblings and he was also my business partner. It was him who kept asking me, “When are you going get real about this woman?” I never discussed how hot the sex was between us, but I told him how she was taking time out to work on me with my photography and he saw how much my work has improved over these past few months.

“You got talent, and of course I’m going to say that because I’m your brother, but I get the feeling she’s doing this because she sees something more in you than what you can do with a camera,” he said on more on one occasion. “And you light up when you talk about her.”

I guess I did, but this night it was more about her light reflecting on me. I never realized how much she can light up a room, or in this case, a back yard.

“Damn!” Rick said. “She’s a knockout, and she has personality, too! You’re normally not the slowest guy in the race, but what took you so long to get together with her?”

I had time to think about why it took me too long, almost too long. Part of it was getting over Brianne pulling the wool over my eyes. Part of it was old habits dying hard of chasing skirt – and cock.

For me, sex wasn’t an emotional thing; it was just a pastime, except with Brianne. I had no problem getting a piece of ass before and after her. If I kept my emotions out of it, I wouldn’t get hurt. But once I put my heart into a woman, I’m in it all the way – kindness, romance, and most of all, respect for the woman I’m with. Looking back to the first day I met Andrea, I wanted all of that, but I purposely put all of that out of my head because I was afraid of getting hurt. Ironically, I’m pretty sure that I wound up hurting her. In the end, I got lucky.

As for my time with men, it’s not about attraction, it’s about getting off. It’s not a gay thing or a bi thing. Most of the men I’ve been with are as straight as a Summer Solstice day in Fairbanks, Alaska, but the pickings are much easier at a gay bar. There’s none of the game playing that there is with women and there are no expectations. It’s just an over and done thing without the drama.

But how do I explain this to Andrea? Or don’t I? For as open-minded as she was, chances are that she wouldn’t be so open to it in her life. Last night was one thing with the fondling, but until then even just playing with another couple was only something she said she would give some thought.

But tonight it was all about her. There wasn’t a man or woman who could distract me from Andrea. She was distracting enough. She was one of those rare women who could truly rock a pair of short shorts. The fit just covered her petite and slightly rounded ass to leave just enough to the imagination, and when she stripped down to her bathing suit, I nearly lost it. Of the many times I’ve seen that seen that glorious, firm rack of hers, there was something about seeing them perfectly strapped and But covered in a bikini top that set me off to a point where I couldn’t wait. We had only been sitting at the edge of the pool for about 20 minutes talking and drinking beers when I announced, “Excuse me, but I have to show this young lady to the powder room.”

“I don’t have to go to the bathroom,” she said while we walked toward the house.

“I know, but if I don’t take you right now, I’m going to have a very embarrassing situation in front of all of everyone,” I said.

We raced to the house, through the back patio door, and headed straight to the half bath off the kitchen. I grabbed both breasts, slammed her against the wall, and started kissing her desperately. She managed to break away to say, “I can’t do this here. Not in your brother’s house. I just met them not even an hour ago.”

“And I’ve had a raging hardon for you since I left your house this morning,” I said, pressing my ever hardening cock against her so she’d get my message. “And I bet you’re wet for me, too.”

I slipped my finger through her bathing suit bottom I and could tell that she had just started responding. Her kisses left me with a feeling that spread through my body like wildfire yet she kept pushing me off.

“No, no … we really shouldn’t,” she said.

I rammed my finger straight into her cunt. She took it in tight and wet. Her breathing became even more rapid as I pulled the bottom of her bathing suit down.

“We’ll be quick, I promise,” I said under a heavy whisper. “I can’t hold back any longer.”

I threw her up on the countertop, kicked over the kid’s step stool so I could stand on it, dropped my trunks, and went at her and kissed her deeply. It was intensely deep fucking and foreplay all at the same time. Our tongues twisted around each other wildly as our orgasms built. I untied her top as quickly as I could so I could feel her breasts that she pressed hard against my bare chest. Her walls clenched my cock as hard as ever in a constant state of lubrication urging me to come. When I felt myself ready to blast, I grabbed her by her ass cheeks and pulled her in as hard as I could.

I felt as if some kind of force blew me back to the wall after I came.

“My legs feel like putty,” I told her as I barely propped myself up against the wall.

Andrea leaned back, let out an enormous breath, and started laughing.

“We’ve done some crazy things, but this is certainly the craziest,” she said.

“Even crazier than last night on the roof?” I asked.

“Umm … that was pretty crazy, but there’s something even crazier about doing it on the sly with family nearby,” she said. “Now that’s pushing some limits for me!”

We both started laughing. We both wanted to laugh hard, but wanted to keep a low profile in case anyone was nearby, or worse, at the door waiting to use the john. The smile on the inside of me was bigger than my laugh when I realized that neither one of us was totally going to go soft on each other knowing this just wasn’t wild booty call sex.

We got cleaned up and dressed as quickly as we could and hoped no one had noticed we were gone for too long. I think Rick did as we walked through the kitchen.

“There you are, dude,” he said. “We’re ready to get the steaks on the grill. You know the deal; we buy ‘em, you grill ‘em.”

At family parties like this, it was my job to do the grilling because I didn’t have a date or spouse to entertain or kids to run after, and quite frankly, I was pretty damn good at it. Andrea jumped into the kitchen with the other women and seemed to make friends fast. It was a side of her I had never seen, being with other woman, and she seemed at ease and fit right in with the other women who tended to be a bit on the catty side, especially when it came to a new woman in the mix. Or maybe they were impressed with her ability to make the perfect mojito.

My dad always said you can tell how a woman will treat you by the way she treats other people the. By way I saw her with the other women led me to believe I was in pretty good hands.

The steaks turned out fantastic as did the rice salad she brought – rice, green onions, wilted spinach, bacon and a dressing made of soy sauce. A real crowd-pleaser, perfect with the steaks.

“You two make quite a team in the kitchen,” Julie said. “Do the two of you cook often?”

We had never cooked together before. Hell, the closest thing we even came to food was me bringing over a pizza to her place one time and the two of us stopping for sliders on the way back to my house another time, but Andrea piped in, “Oh, we cook pretty well together, alright.”

No one caught the double entendre. I wanted to bust out laughing, but I just smiled and raised my glass to the toast someone made to us in our honor. A soft, polite smile came upon Andrea’s face before she leaned over to me and whispered, “Maybe we should have Tim and Shelly come over for dinner one night?”

She made it nearly next to impossible to compose myself and a brand-new stiff one when she cast me a wink and a smile that lasted just a second too long.

“You’ve got to stop this, woman,” I whispered through my grin. “Not in front of family.”

She gave me a discreet slap on the ass. I deserved it. And I liked it.

One tradition we had when it was just “the kids” when we got together like this was to play guitar and sing around the campfire. We’d start out with a lot of goofy songs. “Be My Yoko Ono” was a trademark of me and Rick, and if we didn’t come up with it on our own, someone would demand it. This time was the best ever when Andrea chimed in with that horsey laugh that was so on pitch and so on-cue. That move more than won her over with the sibs and their wives who always made it their point to out-do each other in the humor department. This time, Andrea took the honors hands down.

Where I didn’t think that I could show my chops was when we’d wind down the evening and the men played love songs to their wives and girlfriends. It was apparent to most of the others that I was wild about Andrea and made a point of telling me, I deliberately held off until the very end to make my contribution. I had an idea in mind, but I was working up the nerve to play it.

When it was finally my turn, I strummed, stalled, and said: “I wanted to finish me the song started singing to you last night, but since you agreed to be my Yoko Ono, I think a John Lennon song would be more appropriate.”

I started in with the first verse of “The Ballad of John and Yoko,” which got everyone laughing. When I lit into the refrain, I changed the words to …

“Christ you know I’m not easy,
You know what a jerk I can be.
The way I have blown it
You could’ve crucified me.”

I was true to form more than ever. Mr. Robbie “Always Good for a Laugh” had them doubling over, clutching their bellies, and nearly spitting their drinks into the fire even none of them, except for Rick and Andrea, knew the true meaning behind my improv.

Andrea laughed the hardest, but she also deserved better, so I slowed down the tempo and “In My Life” just came to my fingers, onto the strings of my guitar, and out of my mouth.

After the last note faded from the guitar string, she gave me a sweet, soft and chaste kiss on my cheek that felt more powerful than any kiss we’ve ever shared. Normally, I would have stayed to help clean up, but I told Rick, “I have to get this young lady home.”

He gave me a fist pump and a hug and said to me, “Indeed you do, my brother. Indeed you do.”






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