April Fools 3

It was definitely starting to look like I was going to have to end things with Eden. There was nothing wrong with her exactly: cute, nice body, average intelligence, laughed at my jokes, sweet—that was it, actually. She was sweet. Everything about her said nice, stable, and completely, utterly dull. Everything had to match and line up; even her sets of underwear went immediately into the laundry as soon as she took them off in preparation for sex (with the lights out). She said it was so that the set was always clean at the same time. Our dates were the same every time: dinner and a movie. Dinner was always something like Applebee's or Olive Garden (she didn't like anything spicy); the movie was always a romantic comedy (if she chose) or something with bombs or robots or maybe both (if I chose). We'd go back to her place (white wicker furniture, lots of throw pillows, a yippy Maltese who seemed to hate me), have really quick, missionary sex (she always had a condom at the ready and kept a little white wicker trash basket by the nightstand for immediate disposal), and then I'd go home and wonder how much longer I could withstand the boredom.

On St. Patrick's Day, we went out to a bar with some friends. It was the first time she'd introduced me to anyone else in her life, so I was hoping that maybe that might spark something. Nope. Debbie was an attractive redhead with nothing at all to say; Nicole was chatty, but looked like a mess. I could feel my friends (single guys are always hoping for new resources) rolling their eyes at what I'd managed to line up for them. It was a total bust and everyone went home early. Eden and I had sex that was over even faster than usual and I lay there that night, figuring out exactly what the best way was to end this mess.

The next couple of weeks were busy and I didn't get a chance to do it. I was buried in work and it was easy to just ignore her texts (they were always boring anyway). There was a new woman at work also, if I'm being completely honest, and I found myself spending all my time thinking about her. When I started thinking about Veronica while I was grabbing my dick, I knew I had to break it off with Eden immediately. I texted her to meet for coffee at lunchtime the next day, then thought about Veronica sucking me off until I came in her mouth until I came all over my own hand. I slept like a baby.

The coffee shop wasn't crowded, but there were enough people there that I wasn't worried about Eden making a big scene when I cut her loose. She smiled her usual pretty, boring smile at me. I noticed that I could see down her low-cut blouse to her full breasts, encased in some very sexy black lace and my cock immediately stiffened in response—but I forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand. "Hi," she said. "Haven't heard from you in a while." She didn't seem upset, just commenting. Dull as ever.

"Busy at work," I said, not even sounding apologetic to myself. An image of Veronica getting busy at work, maybe opening her legs to me while sitting on the copier, letting me fuck her while the copies continue to come spitting out of the machine... Eden was saying something that I missed, but I caught the end of it.

"... at my place?" She was waiting for an answer. Uh... "You wanted to meet here to break up, right?"

Well, I was definitely not expecting that. "Um..."

She laughed a little. "I was asking if you wanted to just walk over to my place. You've left a few things there, thought you might want them back." Still no upset, no nothing. This woman was so boring she couldn't even make a break-up interesting. I congratulated myself on making the right decision, knowing I'd be free of her in the next thirty minutes, free to move on to Veronica (onto Veronica, into Veronica... oh, yes).

Her apartment was right around the corner. She opened the door and the damn dog came yapping at me. I almost cheered out loud as I thought about never having to see that animal again. Or the wicker furniture. Or the avalanche of throw pillows. "Just wait here," Eden said. "I'll put your things in a bag for you." She went into the bedroom. I stood in the doorway, not even wanting to commit myself to sitting down: the sooner this was done, the happier I'd be. I pulled out my phone to text Veronica about getting a drink after work. The little dog growled at me. "Schazi, come here!" she called from the bedroom. I heard her putting him into his kennel and felt like I'd won somehow. Jesus, I was definitely making the right choice if I was feeling pumped over trumping the dog.

Eden came back with a few things in the bag. I didn't even look. She seemed a little out of breath and flushed. Again, I noticed that delicious cleavage under her filmy blouse. Was it my imagination or was one more pearl button undone? And had she been wearing lipstick when she went in there? Eden leaned over me to lock the door and I noticed perfume—something different, almost raunchy smelling, just on the edge of dirty. What was

that

? I think she caught me looking at her and she smiled at me. Wait, did she just lock the door? Why did she lock the door?

"What are you doing?" I asked her. She pulled her hair back off her neck and looked me in the eye in a way that was both unnerving and oddly hot. She fingered the next button on her blouse and I felt my cock jump in response. "Eden, come on. I have to get back to work."

"Okay," she said, undoing the button. Then another one. The black lace over her the round curve of her breasts was now completely visible and I was more than semi-hard.

"What are you doing?" I repeated like an idiot.

"Just changing my clothes," she said. "I'm very sad about getting dumped and I need to make myself feel better. Do you want to watch?"

I wanted to say no, I swear I did, but now her blouse was completely open and she was sliding her fingers into the waistband of her skirt, unzipping... Frankly, this was the most interesting our relationship had ever been. I nodded. She pointed at a chair. "You sit there. You can watch, but you can't touch." I sat. I watched. Still in her black heels, she slid the skirt down her hips and let it fall to the floor, revealing the black lace thong underneath. For once, I was thrilled about her obsession with matched sets. I could see my hard-on swelling out the front of my pants, pressing on my fly. She stood in front of me now, all black lace, red lipstick, dirty perfume, loose hair, and peekaboo blouse. Who the hell was this anyway?

"Do you want to see how I make myself feel better?" she asked, standing there, lightly running her hands over her curves. I swallowed and nodded. "Answer me," she said.

"Yes," I said, my hand drifting toward my cock, now aching as it pushed for release.

"You can look, but you can't touch." She looked directly at my cock. "Anything."

Whoa.

"Can you do that?" Again, she gave me that direct look that went straight to my balls. I nodded. "Answer me."

"Yes."

"Okay." She ran her index finger inside her bra, over her nipple, shuddered a little. "If you can't, we'll have to do something about it. Got it?"

"Yes." I was transfixed by her finger, her nipple, the other hand now caressing the curve of her own ass.

"Good." She sighed with pleasure as she tweaked her own nipple. "Because I'm still feeling so—confined. Would you give me a hand with this?" She dipped in front of me, offering a prime view of her lace-covered ass as she lowered down so I could reach the clasp of her bra. Another wave of that primal perfume hit me and it was all I could do to keep from immediately breaking my vow, grabbing her hips, and thrusting into her from behind. Instead, I undid the bra. She let it drop to the floor, now down to the thong and the heels. Have mercy.

She turned to face me again and I caught my breath without meaning to; she smiled at my reaction, but I don't know what else she expected when I was confronted with the contrast of her skin and the lace of the thong, the ripeness of her breasts and the dark pink hardness of her nipples, showing so clearly how much she was enjoying this. She slid her index fingers into the edge of the thong, tugging at it. She walked around the room, fixing the pillows on the couch, straightening some picture frames on the side table, letting me get a good, long view of her nearly bare body. It was a very good view.

Then she got right up close to me, leaning over so her breasts were almost in my face. Without even thinking about it, I leaned forward to meet her and licked her nipple. She moaned, arching her back, gasped, and I reached for her. She pulled back.

"No." She was breathing heavily, definitely flushed now, and I could smell how turned on she was, but she still drew away. "You broke your agreement." From somewhere, she produced two silk scarves and before I even registered what she was doing, she'd tied my hands. What the—"You look, but you don't touch," she said firmly, tightening the knots. Then she straddled my lap. My cock grew still further, luxuriating in the pressure of her pussy against my fly. "I can touch you though," she whispered, pulling back from me and taking away that mind-blowing grinding. "When I want to. Why don't you make me want to?"

I saw where this was going now and I was totally there. "How should I make you want to?" I asked her. She gestured for me to lie on the floor. I did so, eagerly, even the little bit of friction afforded by this movement making me groan in excitement. She stood over me and slowly, carefully, peeled away that lace thong until I was looking up the length of her high heels and silken legs, directly at her pink, swollen pussy. "Can I...?" I gestured with my tied hands toward her. Graciously, she sat in the chair I'd vacated and spread her legs, inviting me to show her what I wanted.

I scrambled toward her, registering somewhere in my brain that this was probably the last way I'd ever imagined this afternoon going, that I should be back at work, that I didn't care if I got fired, this was so totally worth it. All thoughts were lost in burying my tongue within her, spreading her pink lips apart so that I could find and devour her clit. I found myself grinding against the floor like a frustrated teenager, seeking the relief of any kind at this point. She moaned, pushing her hips against my mouth, looking for more. I could tell she was getting close as she got louder, more demanding. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Lick me there. Give me your whole tongue, yes. Oh my God. Yeah. Yeah. Finish me."

I pulled back. "And then what?" My cock was conducting negotiations at this point. I was intoxicated by the feel of her skin, the smell of her wetness, the sight of her all spread out like this, hot and flushed everywhere.

Nearly panting, she licked her lips. "Finish me and then we'll see."

I knew I should probably hold out, but I didn't even want to. I went back to licking, sucking, feeling her thrust and grind against my tongue until she came, clutching at the back of my head and flooding my mouth. She'd hardly finished coming when she pushed me back, unzipped me, pulled out my cock, and straddled me in one fluid motion. I barely had time to register that she had slid my entire length inside her before she was pumping me, squeezing at my shaft with her still-spasming pussy, so slick that I almost slipped out of her. Her swollen clit hit against my base with each thrust, seeming to start her up all over again as she ground against me like a stripper on a pole. I didn't want it to stop, but I was helpless to resist as she came again, forcing me to come with her, coming so hard I clenched my ass, feeling like I was frozen in time as I came and came.

When I could finally breathe again, I opened my eyes to find her lying next to me. "What the hell was that?" I asked.

She giggled. "My friends bet me that I couldn't make you think I was the most boring girlfriend in the world and then change your mind with one fuck. Did it work?"

I looked around at the underwear, the scarves on my wrists, the overturned chair. "I think so."

"Did you really think I was that vanilla?" She ran her finger along my inner thigh and watched my cock twitch in response.

"Maybe," I said, feeling myself start to harden again, then jumping back to life as the warm wetness of her mouth embraced me, her tongue running a delicious line from my head to my balls.

She lifted her head for a moment and smiled at me. "April Fool's."