Ignore the Warning Label Pt. 05

So I repositioned him into a seated slouch and swung my legs up to straddle him.

"Honestly, Sir," I said. "What kind of Dom are you if you're not going to make me get you off?"

He draped his arms around my shoulders and gave me that puppet master look of his. "The kind who knows his submissive doesn't need to be told."

I smiled. "You know me too well."

Our sex before had been about me and my experience between Malcolm and Nicole. I made this about him. I rode him the way he liked, bringing myself up high on his dick to squeeze his sensitive spot with my entrance, before slowly taking him deep inside me again.

While we fucked, I poured my heart out to him. How much I loved him, how thankful I was that I had him in my life, how amazing he made me feel and how grateful I was that he put in so much effort to make everything we did possible. I tried to describe that moment just before I kissed Nicole for the first time, when I was panicking, and his reassurance had saved me. I tried to describe, just in general, how much I needed his support in my life just to make me functional.

I was babbling, it was hardly the type of dirty sex talk I'm pretty sure you're supposed to have while fucking, but it felt right to me. He held me close and squeezed me into his embrace before he came.

"I love you too," he said, and kept saying it, again and again as he pulsed his orgasm into me.

I don't know how or why group sex made us both emotional and drew us together like that. To this day, I don't understand it. I've repeated the explanations Malcolm, Nicole and Sam use often enough, but they've never really captured what I feel in those moments afterwards. The moments when I hold Malcolm in my arms and know that I'm his and he's mine, and nothing will ever change that.

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It wasn't easy to keep herself from sinking back into negativity, but it did get better.

Three weeks passed, and for Vivian, each of them brought her higher than the last. There was no secret to it, really. She just did what made her happy and forced herself to stop doing what didn't. She spent lots of time with her friends. She'd managed to coach Devyn's Overwatch skills up to gold league, and was seriously considering letting herself be bullied into following Devyn to the gym "for some payback." She'd also followed Susan and Dean to a bunch of basketball watching get togethers. They had a group of friends who tried to watch a game at a different bar each week, and it was fun. It might have been better if the Knicks and Nets weren't quite so terrible, but at least Porzingis was exciting to watch!

But she'd also found herself enjoying her own company. It was calming, especially after a long day in the office, to get to zone out and watch other people.

Vivian's settled herself on her customary bench in Washington Square Park and took a deep, refreshing breath. It was much less crowded than normal, the clouds had looked ominously rainy all day, but there was still enough activity to keep her entertained. A group of kids tossed pretzels to pigeons near the fountain, scattering when a group of dogs sprinted past chasing frantically after a Frisbee. On the opposite side away from her, there was a crowd gathered around somebody juggling. He made it look effortless, but there were so many balls flying between his hands that Vivian couldn't figure out if there were seven, eight or nine of them.

There were a few artists scattered around, but the one she was looking for didn't seem to be there today. It was same artist she'd sat behind the first day in the park, and been semi-creeping on in the few weeks since. Without knowing his name, she thought of him simply as Charcoal because of his preferred drawing implements. He was hard to shadow because he moved around a lot, but Vivian really liked watching him create vivid images with nothing but basic shades of dark and light on paper.

She pulled out her three quarters knitted sweater, intent on finally finishing it today, and frowned slightly. It had originally been intended to be a warmer, winter type piece, but it had turned out a bit lighter than she'd intended. It could have been done ages ago, but she kept finding new changes she wanted to make so it would work better with more outfits.

"I like what you're doing with the ribbing," a masculine voice said from behind her, making Vivian jump out of her skin. She spun around quickly to find Charcoal smiling behind her.

"Erm—what?" Vivian stammered, trying to hide her surprise. Looking up at his attractive, charming smile, she was forced to admit that his art might not have been the only reason she'd been looking out for him. Or even the primary one.

"Your pattern with the ribbing," he pointed at the part she'd been about to start working on. "I like the way it flows from the top while still being distinct from it."

"Oh -- um -- thanks?" Vivian floundered, feeling like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Of course! I never could manage to do something that complex myself. Whenever I tried to make something more complicated than a scarf, it just exploded in my hands."

Vivian felt her mouth drop. "You knit?" She asked, surprised that she could find herself even more surprised than she had been a second before. The conversation was only two exchanges old, and she was already completely messing it up!

"I've dabbled. I like to try a little bit of everything crafty that I can," he said, still smiling, and held out his hand. "I'm David."

"Vivian," she grasped his hand and shook it, trying to project at least a little bit of firmness and confidence.

Which quickly left her when he asked, "So I'm curious, were you ever going to introduce yourself, or would you have kept watching me from a distance forever? I tried catching your eye a few times, but you never seemed to notice."

Well, that made three times in three exchanges she'd been thrown off her balance. At least it was consistent. Ah well, he probably assumed she was a crazy stalker anyway, might as well be honest. "Um, probably. I mean, probably would have just kept watching. I'm terrible at introductions."

"Isn't everybody?" He said, defying his own rhetorical suggestion by seeming disarmingly comfortable and relaxed. "May I sit with you?"

"You want to sit with me?" Vivian asked before she could stop herself.

"Certainly! If you're going to be watching me anyway, I might as well give you a better view. Besides, I'd like to see what yours looks like when it's finished."

He pulled a large pad from the leather bag slung over his shoulder and set to work capturing the pigeons battling for pretzels with the jets of water from the fountain behind them. He seemed capable of maintaining a full conversation without slowing his hands at all, and Vivian found herself relaxing into it. David must have done more than dabble with knitting, because he kept asking her beyond beginner questions like how she made sure the measurements for the sweater matched her size and how she managed to make her alterations so seamlessly.

A line of her knitting and a sketch in his pad at a time, hours passed and the conversation shifted. They swapped stories about coming to the city, finding friends and local favorite spots. Despite what she'd said before, she was very good at introduction conversations like this one. She'd had plenty of practice with them on Tinder dates. At least, her slut persona had. That had felt like acting, like she was performing a character on a stage. This was different. She wasn't wearing her slut mask of sexy clothes and makeup. This was her, Vivian the boring, literally with her grandma style knitting in her hands, and she was talking to a hot, confident and witty guy who was somehow genuinely interested in her! He laughed at her jokes and listened to what she said, and he wasn't just following some script to get into her pants!

Under the pretense of watching him draw, she cast an another appreciative look up at him. He wore the kind of jeans and short sleeved collared shirt that tried to look casual, but was actually very clean and rather dashing, especially the way it showed off his arms and hugged his fit figure. It was much nicer than what she'd worn, typical plain loose stuff designed to be overlooked. She almost regretted not wearing something nicer, but maybe that would have made being noticed by him feel less special.

She dragged her feet when it finally got too dark to continue working, not wanting to go.

"I'm really glad I sat with you, Vivian," he said, meeting her eyes and smiling his disarming smile.

"Yeah, me too."

"Would you like to do it again?"

"Yeah! I'm here pretty often—"

"Actually, I had something different in mind. Tonight is bad for me, but if you'd like, I'd be really happy if you'd join me for dinner sometime."

Vivian exploded inside. She must have said something, because she and David exchanged phone numbers and made arrangements to meet at The Knickerbocker that Friday, but she had no idea what it was. She managed to stay coherent and keep her excitement inside just long enough for him to say goodbye before she had to let it out in text messages.

Vivian: I just got asked out to dinner!

Vivian: Me, Devyn! He noticed ME!

Vivian: without my whore paint on or anything

Devyn: That's fucking awesome!

Devyn: and your WHAT?

Vivian: Whore paint. It's the nickname I gave putting on makeup for dates. Like guys put on war paint to go to battle except

Vivian: well, you know

Devyn: thats a new one for me lol

Devyn: tell me about him!

Devyn: tell me everything. NOW!