Chanel and Ethan 23 - Sex Stories

Chanel and Ethan 23

... me. How am I supposed to know how to dress?” “Well, put something on and I’ll tell you if you need to change,” he says simply and gives me a sweet kiss. I smile and turn back to my closet. After I’m dressed in tight skinny jeans and a pale blue off-the-shoulder top, Ethan tells me I look beautiful. “This is good then?” I ask as he comes behind me and kisses my neck. “Better than good,” he mumbles and I grin. “There is a stipulation for my surprise though,” he says wrapping his arms around me. “Stipulation?” Ethan spins me around so I’m facing him and he has a serious look on his face. He hesitates, though. I quirk an eyebrow and give him an encouraging smile. He must have seen something there to make him speak. “Do you trust me?” he asks with blazing green eyes. I think through this for a second. Do I trust him? Looking into his patient, beautiful face, my mind wanders through these past few days. Things have been better than I thought they could be. I get to fuck him all I want and we don’t need to talk about the future, putting all of our energy into here and now. Exactly what we both want, not having to worry about relationships or statuses. Then my mind wanders back even farther to all the years we’ve just been friends. I smile at him. “I do,” I say with conviction and his answering smile is dazzling. “Then pack a suitcase,” he says and waits for my reaction. It was a little delayed. “...I’m sorry, a suitcase?” He nods at my surprise, seeming less hesitant after the ...

... declaration of my trust for him. I pause for a moment checking if he’s serious. “It’s a good surprise, I promise,” he smirks at me and I sigh with a chuckle. He’s still not going to tell me yet. “Alright, I can roll with it,” I say and turn to the top shelf in my closet. Ethan sees what I’m going for and grabs my suitcase for me. “I’m packing for the rest of this weekend?” I ask. “Yeah. Warm weather,” he says answering another question I hadn’t gotten to. I fill my suitcase with enough clothes and shoes until Tuesday, then pile my hygiene products and my favorite curling iron on top. We get in his car and he drives to his house to change and invites me in. I walk through the front door of my old home and look around while he’s busy in his room. There are no more pictures of any kind hanging on the walls, with the exception of an abstract painting I’d forgotten I had given Ethan on his 25th birthday. No more fake plants, certain decorative items are missing, but the furniture are still in the same spots. When I enter the kitchen, I look right at the island and remember back to when everything started between Ethan and I. How he bent me over that counter and fucked me until I came three times. At the time I thought he was happily married, not knowing his wife cheated on him. A lot has changed since then. Ethan emerges from his room carrying a bag of his own. “Come on, they’re waiting for us,” he says walking back to the living room. “Who?” Ethan opens the front door and a man ...