Page 164 of S is for SEX

OTIS

There was never a doubt in my mind that I had the ability to love. I loved the MC. I loved the passion the men shared, my MC Brothers, and the concept of the club entirely. I loved the brothers I held close to my heart - Axton, Toad, and Biscuit - and without a doubt I loved Avery and Sydney.

The love I felt for my parents was indescribable.

Loving a woman - truly loving a woman who I believed to be my other half - was different.

Much different.

Sam wasn’t in my world, she was my world. I would do anything for her, everything to protect her, and whatever I was required to do to preserve what we had together. As soon as I had her in my arms again, I realized the depth of my love for her.

Although I knew all along that I loved her, I don’t think I realized exactly what loving someone completely meant. I was no longer a selfish boy, I had developed into a selfless man, and loving Sam was proving to be something I was not only capable of, but obsessed with. Sam provided me with an entirely new list of reasons to want to live life to the best of my ability.

Loving her didn’t keep me from pushing her to her limits. In fact, pushing her was always something she loved about me, and I hoped it would never change.

“You sure as fuck better,” I growled.

“Seriously, Otis. There’s like,” she turned her head and glanced around the theater.

“Like twenty people in here,” she said as she turned around.

“Look at me, Sam. Look at me,” I said sternly.

“Okay Otis, I’m looking at you,” she whispered.

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” I shrugged.

After a few seconds of studying me, she shrugged her shoulders, “No.”

“Okay. Now, do me a favor. For me. Stick your finger inside your shorts and feel that little pussy of yours. Tell me if it’s wet, Sam,” I said flatly.

After glancing around the theater nervously, she lowered her hand between her legs. I gazed toward her lap and watched as she slid her finger beneath the fabric of her shorts. After a few seconds, she sighed, raised her finger in the air, and wiped it on the seat beside her.

“Soaked,” she said.

“Now, let’s agree on something,” I whispered.

“Let’s hear it,” she said.

“Well, without a doubt, there are times when a guy wants to fuck, and his cock isn’t very cooperative. He might want to go at it, but his junk is limp. And, there are times when a woman spends half an hour kissing a guy, thinks he’s pretty hot, and decides she wants to fuck him. The problem is that her pussy isn’t wet yet. Now can we agree these types of things happen, and these situations actually exist?” I asked as I glanced down the rows of seats.

“Yeah, I agree,” she breathed.

I turned my head to the side and focused on her beautiful face as I continued, “Okay. Good. Now, conversely, if a man’s cock is rigid as a piece of steel, or a woman’s pussy is dripping down her leg, would you not agree that she or he is ready not only from a mental state of being, but physically as well?”

“I suppose so,” she said.

“Damn, we agreed on something. Good. Okay, now, let me ask you one more thing. Do you love me,” I asked as I reached for my belt buckle.

Even though the theater was quite dark and the movie hadn’t started yet, it wasn’t difficult to see her wrinkled brow or detect her huge attitude.

“You know I do,” she hissed in a half-whisper.

“Okay. Well, if you love me, and your pussy is currently a wet little dripping mess, why would you deprive not only me - but your willing and wanting self - of a little cock?” I asked as I unbuttoned my jeans.

She glanced downward, studying my hand as I unbuttoned my jeans. As I pulled my cock free of my pants, she nodded her head toward it and glanced upward.

“That’s why. In your hand. Look at it, Otis. I’m not depriving myself of a little cock. Your cock needs a fucking zip code. It’s huge. Now, let me ask you something,” she said as she alternated glances between my cock and my face.

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