The next morning came much faster than Aymie expected. Typically when she was anticipating something so much, time slowed down to a crawl and every minute felt like it was an hour long. In this case, she actually found herself running late. Her alarm went off around nine thirty the next morning, which gave her only 30 minutes to take a shower, go through her morning routine, and find something to wear before Mr. Davis expected her. She'd slept surprisingly well, having only awoken once throughout the night. For her, that was a record; she usually woke up half a dozen times every night. She was not a good sleeper.
Aymie rolled out of bed and found her bath robe, donning it over her naked skin and made her way to the bathroom. Her mother had already left for work, which gave Aymie freedom to take as much time in the bathroom as she needed. She showered quickly though, given her time constraints, and pulled her hair up into a tight bun atop her head once she stepped out of the steamy room, and back to the bedroom again. She stood in front of her full-length mirror after she'd peeled back her robe again, inspecting herself.
She wasn't skinny, that much was certain. For the longest time, she had cursed the way her thighs rubbed up against one another when she walked, the jiggle in backside or the way her hips sat so wide...but for some reason this morning, she admired them. She'd been blessed with a small waist, and the contrast of that and her wider hips gave her an hourglass shape that she'd learned to adore. She ran her hands over her body, delicately and lovingly, the way that Mr. Davis had done. She squeezed at her love handles, traced her fingertips over her tummy, and moved to cup her breasts in her hands. Her nipples perked to attention immediately. Her body seemed eager to be touched like this, and Aymie bit her lip and smiled as she thought about what would happen when she went over to Mr. Davis's house today.
What in the hell should she wear? She snapped to attention and stepped over towards her closet, inspecting its contents for something suitable. Should she try and dress sexy and revealing to impress him, or wear something more conservative and comfortable for her first visit? Maybe something in between. She pulled out a crop-top shirt that sat just above her navel, and a pair of navy blue harem pants that clung to her hips and backside, accentuating her curves. She wore no bra, and no panties beneath them, opting to allow her body to breathe beneath the fabrics. Once she was dressed, she inspected herself in the mirror again before applying a modest amount of makeup, some light eyeliner and a swipe of mascara, and finding her perfume roller, dabbing it on the sides of her neck and the inside of each wrist. She slipped on a pair of sandals and made her way downstairs to the kitchen to fix some tea.
She and her mother hadn't had the chance to clean up since the party last night and there was a myriad of dirty dishes and trash thrown around the place. She bit her lip. How angry would Mr. Davis be if she took just fifteen more minutes to tidy up before she left? If her mother came home to a mess, there would be tension in the house and Aymie hated that. She resolved to do a quick clean up, picking up the plastic cups and paper plates and throwing them in the recycling, sweeping up some spilled crackers and chips, adjusting the blankets on the couches, and doing a quick mop of the kitchen floor. She scrubbed up the dishes that were left in the sink and left them in the drainer to air-dry, then finally got around to fixing her tea. She threw it in a travel mug and peeked at the clock. She was only running ten minutes late. Hopefully he would be forgiving.
She grabbed her keys and purse, and headed out the front door and across the grass patch to Mr. Davis's front door. She hesitated, swallowing hard before she knocked three times against the wood. An answer didn't come right away, but she heard a thumping just on the other side of the door and her brow lifted with curiosity. When the door opened, she was met by Max, wobbling in his cast with his tail flailing wildly from side to side.
Aymie bent down immediately, giggling at the dog's display. "What are you doing up and about, pretty boy? Your poor legs are gonna get sore!" She scratched him behind the ears and nuzzled him.
"He remembers you, then. That's good. I had a feeling he would."
Mr. Davis's deep voice came from above her and she looked up to see him, her cheeks already blushing. He wore a pair of whitewash denim pants and a blue button up, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The top was unbuttoned just enough to show the smattering of chest hair at the top of his torso. She rose to her feet and met his gaze, biting her lip.
"You need to stop doing that," he said, reaching up the tugging on her chin so that her lip released from the vice of her teeth. "It makes me crazy."
She licked her lips. "Crazy in a good way?"
Mr. Davis nodded. "A very good way. Come in."
He turned to the side and swept an arm towards the interior of his home, and Max hobbled his way in with Aymie not far behind. She kicked her sandals off at the door and stood awkwardly in the entrance, hands folded in front of her, her eyes glued to the floor. Mr. Davis stepped around her and took her by the arm, without a word, and led her into the living room. He swept and arm towards the couch, indicating she should sit, so she did and tucked her knees up underneath herself.
"Tell me why you're so shy?" he asked her, sitting in his recliner opposite her, leaning forward with his hands clasped.
She felt her cheeks get hot. "I-I don't know. I just don't know what to do. I don't know what you...want me for. I don't know what to say or how to act."
He smiled. "It's rather cute." He ran his hand over his beard and sat up a bit straighter. "Tell me why you're here. Why did you want to come? I didn't force you. It's your own two feet that carried you here." Leaning forward again, he pointed at her. "And I'll bet that little pussy of yours is already wet, right?"
She swallowed. It was. It took her several moments to formulate an answer, and she tried to hold his gaze while she spoke. "I want to know why I...react to you the way that I do."
"So do I. I want to know a lot of things about you."
She looked down and picked at the hem of her pants. "I don't react like that to anyone else. I...I don't think I ever have."
He tilted his head to the side and regarded her. "Not even with Derek?"
She peeked up. "No. Never with Derek."
"Tell me about that. Does he not satisfy you?"
Aymie shrugged. "He does. I mean...we've been dating for like, two years now and he's a very good guy. Sweet and kind, and he loves my mom. And he's good in bed it's just...not...perfect. It's like we fit in every other way but that."
"Well," he said, crossing his arms. "Tell me more. What is he doing wrong?"
