Ethan and Chanel 35 - Sex Stories

Ethan and Chanel 35

... something?" Chanel mumbles, her manicured hands holding my large shoulders. "Anything," I say, and move to kiss her jaw. "Can we...take our time with the physical part of our relationship?" she asks, and I pull back to look at her, feeling like a dick. "Of course, I'm not going anywhere," I promise her, and she smiles. Though my dreams of fucking her in this lingerie-like outfit have been crushed, I don't let one hint of disappointment show. Of course I want her, she's finally mine, and she looks agonizingly tasty, but if all I wanted was sex, I wouldn't have asked her to be with me just now. There's more to us than that, and I'm happy to give her as long as she needs, as long as she's mine. I know I hurt her, this is my fault, so I can be patient. *** I thought I could be patient. This is harder than I thought it would be. We've been together for four days, I've seen her three times, and we haven't done anything past kissing...it's killing me. I may just be paranoid, but I'm pretty sure she's intentionally, subtly trying to punish me. Chanel has been dressing ever so slightly more skimpy, wearing shirts that display her perky cleavage, and pants that hug her ass like a second skin. Despite my means to ignore it, I have to rub one out every time I leave her to go home. Even that doesn't quite ease my blue balls though; my dick aches for her harder than before she was mine. Ergo, I'm doing everything I can to gain her trust again, which is actually less stressful than I ...

... thought it would be. When she occasionally asks a question pertaining to unfavorable topics, she isn't a bitch about it, and she's not holding a grudge against me. It's more than I deserve, but I'm relieved none the less. My girlfriend is the shit. We're having fun in our new level of intimacy, while also working past the problem I created. I'm always excited to see her, to talk to her, to hold her fucking hand in public, and kiss her soft lips. I'm seeing her again tonight, and time is going by way too fucking slow. I avoid everyone before I leave work, and slip away at my scheduled time off before I can get sucked into helping anyone with anything. The moment Chanel gets off work, I drive to her house. She greets me with a kiss, and it lasts much longer than usual, adding to the fire I've been trying to contain. I take her to dinner and we come back to her house, and the entire time she seems distracted almost. I watch her closely as she chooses a movie for us, and when she's sitting next to me on her couch with my arm around her, I've figured it out. She's horny, and she's trying to hide it . She keeps pressing her thighs together and pulling her hair off her neck, and when I realize this, I imagine shoving my dick so deep inside her that it throbs viscously in my pants. When her thighs flex again, I have to say something. "Are you ok?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. "Yes, why?" she replies, leaning her head back on my arm. Because you look like you want to be fucked . "You ...