You Can’t Stop Me Ch. 03

I kiss the small mounds of her breasts, first one side then the other right at their base. Her breathing increases. I tug up the sweatshirt until I'm right at the line of her nipples. Her hands snap down on the hem and hold tight. She is panting heavily and I'm worried I've gone too far too fast. I keep kissing her stomach and lower breasts, but I don't press it.

She says something but I can't make out what it is.

"Carmen?" I say.

"I like the feel of you," she repeats. "I like it a lot."

"I'll stop," I offer.

"No ... I want to do this, but I'm afraid," she tells me. I go back to kissing the base of her breasts. She moans and slowly raises the bottom of the shirt over the top of her breasts. I lightly kiss and lick each nipple then I pull the shirt back down. She looks down at me, her face lights up, and she scoots down. Her hands wrap around me and she gives me her trademark hug.

"I love you so much!"

I don't know why this woman makes me so crazy. I think she's getting to me. Like the fact that I know that she doesn't want me to say anything else. It will break the spell she's woven over the moment, where she's won back that little piece of herself that Steve threatened to shake loose.

It is for the same reason I don't press my hold on her. I'd love to stroke her body, from mid-thigh to her womanhood, across her stomach and to her breasts. With a dozen other girls I wouldn't even ask; with her I'm almost afraid to ask for anything she hasn't offered first. We fall back into the game: her game.

I've taught her all kinds of things, but I haven't been immune. I'm a lot more patient than I ever thought I could be. I've never appreciated the value of a touch, or a kiss until she showed me how much it could be. I don't know if I love her, but I now actually give thought to what the word means and what it means when you say it. It is fucked up.

Now I have to think about Carmen, and Lindsey ... and Ashe. With Carmen I would have screwed Lindsey and tossed her away. I would have never thought of Ashe as anything else but a buddy. I was all the cup size and how hard her ass was, because I know I've fucked a dozen women lusher than Carmen who were twice as sane. Is it really so weird that I don't even miss them?

Carmen stirs against me and I think she's about to say something. She isn't. She's dreaming and it is the first time I can remember that. I wish I knew if this is a good thing or a bad thing.