Better Ch. 05

Chapter 05 - Robert

I met my best buds, Roger and Billy, up at the bar to catch the baseball game. Strangely, I felt a bit detached from the rib poking and shit kicking that normally ensued whenever we got together and beers and shots were involved. I tried my best to keep up, but both of them knew I wasn't up on my game.

"Robert, dude," Roger said. "I can't believe you missed it. That hot blonde at the corner of the bar with her friends. She's got the hots for you and you haven't even noticed."

I turned my head and said something like, "Oh," and turned back to stare at the screen.

"She already walked by once, checking you out," Billy said. "You gotta jump on her. I'll take her friend in the hippie dippie sundress."

"Go for it," I told Billy "I just want to watch the game."

Billy got up and left and Roger said to me, "You're not watching the game. You're just staring at the screen and you're a shot and a beer behind us," pointing at the still full bottle and glass in front of me."

"I just have stuff on my mind," I told Roger.

"Stuff?" Roger asked. "Everything going OK with work?"

"Yeah, work's cool," I said.

"Don't tell me; you're hung up on a woman," Roger said. "I know that look. I've just never seen it on you before."

Roger was right. I was never much of a one-woman man except Brianne who I was with for a couple of years a while ago. The woman had some moves in and out of the bedroom. The sex was great. Half the time we went out, she had this way of hooking us up with another chick or another couple. I swear she could go down on a chick better than I ever could and she could take a banging from both ends. But sex with Brianne wasn't electrical like it was with Andrea. I just couldn't connect with her mentally or emotionally the way I do with Andrea. She didn't read me and know what moves to pull to drive me wild before I even knew what hit me. I couldn't break down the barriers that she put up at times. I eventually found out why: she had a thing going on with some douchebag who only wanted her around when it was convenient for him.

And here I was, being that same kind of douchebag with Andrea, mostly because I enjoyed my freedom of choice up until now. That, and I was afraid of losing my sense of spontaneity and feared falling into the routine and ordinary and getting burned again if we became a couple. I told this to Roger, and that she was spending her time as we spoke with some rich guy from out of town who's married.

"So she says banging someone else," Roger said. "Whether she is or isn't, I think she's pulling a game to suck you in. She could have never told you and you would have never known."

"I don't think so," I said. "I know she has it bad for me and I've played her, or at least I thought I played her. But when it comes down to it, I really dig her and there's this energy between us that I can't explain or understand. She's smart, she's fun, she puts up with my shit, and she's sexy. But she also says she deserves better, and I have to agree with her."

"You feel this way because you know she's with someone else right now, but as soon as he leaves, she'll be wanting some of that monster cock you say you have," Roger said as he handed me my shot glass. "Go over there, make friends with that blonde, and get Annabelle or whatever the fuck her name is out of your head,"

Carrie, the blonde, was too easy to hook. She wasn't even three-quarters done with the chocolate martini I ordered for her when she leaned over, slid her hand over my crotch, and said, "You're fuckalicious. Gracie and I live just down the street. Why don't you and your friend follow us over there?"

Billy's ears perked up when he heard Carrie and mouthed, "Yes, dude!" I really had no choice, even if I and my cock weren't up for it.

Carrie and Gracie were every man's dream. They had a house just a block out of town with a hot tub on the back deck. As soon as they got us our drinks, they walked outside, stripped off their clothes, sat on the edge of the hot tub, and started kissing and fondling each other's breasts, enticing us with their murmurs and giggles. Billy sat back in the tub looked as if he was doing everything he could not to jack off in front of us. He finally got into the action when Carrie spread her legs open with her eyes focused on me as Gracie dipped in to get between her legs. It didn't take him long to slide his finger in and out of Gracie's ass as she got Carrie off with her tongue.

I just sat back and watched, still fully clothed, lighting up another cigarette as I dangled my bottle of beer by the neck off the side of the patio chair. Carrie was entertaining but only in the way some chick pulling off a cheesecake act in a video would. She motioned me to come over to play with her nipples as she tried to get off with Gracie's face buried in her pussy. She had a nice set of tits that were surgically enhanced with nipples that were rock hard. I went through the motions of pinching, pulling and tweaking on them, keeping her on edge until she finally came. Billy and Gracie floated over to the other side of the tub to do some more poking, prodding and pulling while Carrie looked at me and asked, "Do you want to come inside?"

I sighed, gave her a well-meaning smile, and said, "You're a great girl, but I've had a long day, and my day starts pretty early tomorrow. Let's do this, just the two of us, some other time."

She pulled my phone out of my pocket, typed in her number, and said, "Would love it. Call me sometime."

I got to my car, erased Carrie's number, and looked at my text log to Andrea.

"How much time do you have after our shoot, my lady?"

"With apologies to Joni Mitchell, I could drink a case of you."

My lady? I don't say stuff like that to women I just fuck. It rubbed off from a conversation we had about "A Midsummer's Night Dream," and what she said about how much joyful fucking around that should have been going on in that play. And that last text to her, the Joni Mitchell text, was actually very tender and sweet and I didn't even realize it at the time. I just thought I was playing off something she said about loving that song as a clever way to say how I wanted to lap every drop of cum out of her. No wonder why she told me about her feelings for me. I was certainly giving her mixed messages, and they were a mix of those of which I wasn't even aware. They were the same kinds of messages that I sent when I lifted her legs straight above her head and ran my fingers up and down the lips of her pussy, barely touching her soft, tender skin for what seemed like forever for her enjoyment. I was only lucky enough to see her quiver, to hear her let out soft breaths of "Ah's," and to watch her come over and over again. All of that was so much more beautiful than watching Carrie and Gracie play a cheap and silly version of "Girls Gone Wild." No wonder why I was so unmoved this evening.

I stared at the screen on my phone and debated what I wanted to say to her until I finally got the nerve to type: "When do you have time to get together? I have a surprise for you."

I hit the send key and hoped I would hear back from her soon.