Perchance to Dom Ch. 1 - Sex Stories

Perchance to Dom Ch. 1

... would be the last time she thought for herself, while she knew me. I quit the job. Gina actually made a pass at me, the last day. Damn her! Maybe it was my imagination. I waited. Cheryl thought about my offer for three days. "Walt." Cheryl took my hand. "I'll give you one chance." "Okay." I took a deep breath. I could do this. "Don't call me Walt." "Huh?" "You will address me as Walter." "Walter, whatever." "Cheryl, do really feel something for me?" "I guess so." "Then just pay attention to that, and follow my lead. Say, 'Yes, Walter.'" My special friend looked at me with suspicion. "Is this just another creepy thing to you? I-" "Cheryl. Either say it or don't. Trust me. It's important." She huffed. "Okay. Yes, Walter." "You'll follow my lead." "I'll follow your lead." "Okay. Hug me." I opened my arms. She did. It was our first hug. Her hands were cold. So were her arms, but her body was warm against mine. I kissed her hair. "You're going to take me home for dinner, tonight." "I'll have to call my mom." "You don't. You don't owe her anything. For the rest of the day, you only owe me -- everything." She gulped. Later that day, I was not expected. "You should have called before bringing a boy home." "Ms. Sayer, I asked her not to." "Cheryl, is something wrong?" The step-mom slotted me into a very undesirable opinion space. "No, Mom. I guess he wanted to surprise you." That was more cooperation than I had expected from my new charge. "Well knock my socks off. This certainly is ...

... a surprise. I didn't even know you were spending time with a boy." "It's just dinner, Mom." "Oh, we have plenty enough. You father may be late at work, somewhere." I learned where Cheryl's bitterness originated. Step-mom's voice was pure lemon. She worked to sweeten her voice. "Come on in." I was ready for the barrage of usual questions. I spoke of my studies, my goals, my parents' work. I described meeting Cheryl at the dealership, but admitted to admiring her at school. By dinnertime, the father had yet to appear. "Dig in, Walter." Ms. Sayer's opinion of me had mellowed. "Please, call me Walt." I smiled. Cheryl kicked my calf. I smiled harder. "I hope you like roast chicken and salad and corn on the cob." "I do, but I'll wait until the man of the house arrives." I chose my words carefully. "You can never tell with Henry. His work is worse than unpredictable." She possibly meant that her husband's hours were despicably predictable. "Can't be long now." I put my napkin in my lap. If only the front door's knob had click at that exact moment. It clicked four minutes later. I endured Ms. Sayer's consternation until then. She had said very little to Cheryl, so far. "Honey, what's wrong?" Mr. Sayer dashed in. I had used Cheryl's phone to text him. "I got your note. It said you were spending the night with a boy, in your room." "Mr. Sayer," I offered my hand, "I'm Walter Nelson. The message didn't say in her room." "Henry! Is that lipstick on your cheek?" The night had just begun. ...