Page 61 of Overachiever
“You know I’d ruin you for all other men.”
“I don’t doubt that. It’s hard to get laid with an STD.”
While they go back and forth, I lean to whisper in Owen’s ear. “Did you keep the toys we bought?”
His grin is wicked as he nods.
“Good.” Those paintbrushes are something I’d love to revisit. I’ve lost track of the conversation which has seemingly turned to how bad Marty probably is in bed.
“I bet you have sex to live albums to get applause,” Zara accuses.
Graham laughs and glances at Marty “He did ask the Alexa to call him Daddy.”
“Says the man who never gets laid,” Marty retorts. “You can’t even tell when a woman is hitting on you. She could throw her bra at you and you’d be like, ‘Excuse me, ma’am, you dropped this’.”
Marty shifts around on the couch. It must be hard to get comfortable with that big cast. “Women act like men are the only ones who could be bad at sex. I’ve had more than one chick try to rip my dick out of its socket during a hand job.”
“I have to back Marty up on this,” Graham says. “It’s not tug of war.”
Serena rolls her eyes. “Well, you don’t need to slap a vagina like a used car salesman trying to sell a ‘99 Camry either.”
Owen’s arms wrap tighter around me, and it strikes me how happy I am at this moment. Just being with him and listening to our friends tease each other. We have a few weeks before school starts, and Owen’s job at the financial aid office won’t start until then either. Idle time usually makes me anxious but all I can think of is how much I’m going to love spending it with him.
It only takes one beer for me before I start yawning and Owen kisses my temple. “I’m tired too. Let’s go to bed.” We’ve had a long few days and nothing sounds better than crawling into bed with him.
The sound of our friends laughing, talking, and arguing over the video game permeates the walls as we get ready for bed. On my way back from the bathroom, I catch my little toe on the leg of the bedside table and let out a yelp when it gets yanked backward.
God, I hate that! It isn’t broken or anything, but I groan and spend a few seconds rubbing it. A yell comes from the living room.
“Dude, at least wait until everyone leaves! We can hear you!”
Marty is such an ass.
Owen gives me a mischievous grin, then jumps up to stand on the bed. “Don’t tell me when I can please my woman!” He starts jumping up and down, making the bed squeak. The song he sings should erase any thoughts we’re actually doing anything. “You put your penis in. You put your penis out. You put your penis in and you stroke it all about. You do the pokey pokey and you wiggle it around. That’s what it’s all about!”
With the last word, he drops down to the bed and nearly bounces me off of it. I hear someone mutter what sounds like “Poor Remee,” but I can’t tell for sure.
“What do you think?” Owen says. “Encore?”
“I think your Brown Eye song was better.” I snuggle into his arms. “Speaking of that, I’ll have the house to myself tomorrow and I thought maybe we could…try it.”
His body tenses, and he looks down at me. “Seriously?”
Shrugging, I feel my face heat up.
“I don’t want you to if you don’t want to,” he warns.
“I want to. I’m curious.”
“Oh god, it’s like Christmas. How am I going to sleep tonight?”
I’ve never met someone who makes me laugh so much. “Santa doesn’t bring anal.”
* * *
I’ve written a check my ass now has to cash and though I’ve spent all morning making sure I’m prepared, I’m nervous. Cleaner than I’ve ever been in my life in certain areas, but nervous. Owen had a few things to take care of since he hasn’t been home in months, but he’ll be here anytime. The girls are all at work. At least I know we won’t have anyone burst in on us this time.
“Woo hoo, let’s do this!” Owen shouts, bursting through the front door of the apartment.
