tagRomanceSteven Ch. 02

Steven Ch. 02


It's been a while since I last had the time to sit here and write about my affairs with Steven and Matthew. A lot has happened since then. I continued my flirtation with Steve around the office, and continued falling for him as we began dating. As for Matthew, I fell into that pit only once again; it was a night when I was feeling particularly vulnerable about things at work and my future with the company, and I needed to be held and pampered for a while—I know, talk about inviting the wrong person over for the job. He did go out of his way to prove that night that he wasn't a 1-minute man; he also seemed to go out of his way to prove that he could never make me cum, unfortunately, even when he tried—which he almost never did, contentedly falling asleep after he got off in less than 5 minutes. I felt even more terrible and depressed after the sex than before, which has always seemed to be the pattern with him. I was mad at myself for letting that creep back into my life so easily, knowing that he wouldn't give me what I needed that night, emotionally and/or physically. He was a user under the impression that he was some kind of incredible fuck; the only reason I fell for him in the first place was because of the "Mr. Nice guy" he pretended to be, and once I saw the lie he was living, I still couldn't seem to see past what I thought was the "real" him--someone caring and kind, not cold, who I should have patience with to someday open up emotionally, or at the very least get me off, the way he kept bragging he would.

Anyway, to make a very long story short, after Matthew left, the void in me grew exponentially. I felt so much lonelier and so much more vulnerable afterwards, as I always did after sex with him, and still needed the TLC that I'd needed earlier that night, just three times over, now. I feel like such a bad person writing this out, but that night I needed to be with someone who really did care about me, or at least someone who was warm enough to be classified as human, who could hold me tightly and tell me that things would get better, even if they really wouldn't. It was only around 10 when Matt left me high and dry at what I thought would be our all-night tryst; I thought about masturbating for a while, but that idea only annoyed me... why should I be forced to masturbate after being fucked just 10 minutes ago? I am an extraordinarily orgasmic woman; there are times, when I swear, I can get off on a good warm breeze on a hot summer day—so why couldn't this jerk spend all of 30 seconds to get me off? The more I thought about it, the more I fumed. I'd literally let this creep inside of me to once again get cheated both emotionally and physically in the end. There were so many times when I waited months, not sleeping with anyone else, masturbating until I could see him again, only to have to masturbate afterwards yet again, because he hadn't gotten me off. Was he so clueless that he couldn't get Atlanta's most easily orgasmic woman off, or was he just so self-centered that he didn't care? Maybe he really was gay, as several of my male friends persistently insisted.

Either way, he was a terrible lay, and it took all of my strength to not pick up the phone and tell him so; that he'd never gotten me off, and that his arrogance was really backed up by nothing but his intense love of self. I couldn't believe that I ever thought we had anything in common... he was an asshole, and I wasn't—that was simple enough. I was clearly pissed off that night. I made up my mind not to masturbate, knowing that if I bottled it up, the next time I did have sex (as long as it was with anyone but you know who) the orgasm would be explosive. I logged on and started downloading a few of my favorite old stories from eroticstories.com and a couple of other sites, so I'd at least have a decent fantasy to fall asleep with to stoke the fires of my new-found celibacy of self-imposed sexual torture.

After I logged off at around 11, my phone started ringing immediately. I picked it up, thinking it was my best girlfriend Paula; I couldn't wait to tell her of yet another amusing sexual fiasco with her favorite male subject of my sexcapades... if anyone could see the lighter side of things, and get me to laugh about the torture I go through with Matthew, it was Paula—of course it was only because she didn't have to go through it. I answered right away, eager to spill the beans, only to hear a male voice on the other end in response to "Paula, you'll never guess what happened THIS time..." Seriously, if men knew the way women talked and joked about them after sex, they'd put so much more effort into it—it'd probably become a required course in the high school curriculum. Anyway, back to my shock when Paula's voice was deep and gruff, and sounded remarkably like Steven's...

"Wow, Paula, you sure sound different tonight!" I teased

"Kara...so what did happen THIS time?"

I blushed, thinking about how to answer this one... I was lucky I hadn't said anything more explicit before he answered... Having been close friends for years, Paula and I tended toward the VERY explicit at times when we talked about the guys we were seeing.

"Nothing, Steve, just an interesting Saturday night so far, is all... so what's with this out of the blue call on a Saturday night at 11? I feel like I should be offended at the booty-call implications, Steve," I continued playfully.

"Actually, miss smarty-pants, I've been calling your cell phone all afternoon, but it seems that it's been turned off the whole time... I looked up your home phone number, and when I finally managed to get it, I called almost non-stop after 10, and it kept ringing off the hook; not a believer in the newfangled technology of answering machines?"

I slapped my palm against my forehead, realizing that that was when I was downloading erotica. "Ummm...yeah, my machine was broken.. I, um, fixed it a few minutes ago... that was part of my, errr, interesting night"

"Okay. I won't ask why you sound so guilty," he laughed at me "but I was wondering all afternoon what you'd be doing tonight, but I figure it's too late now, so I guess I just wanted to say hi. So ‘hi'"

"Hi yourself, silly... to be honest, this night has been so crazy, I don't think I'll be able to sleep for a while; my neighborhood's pretty lively though, so we still have time to catch a movie, or get dinner... we can even go rock climbing a couple of blocks from here at a gym..."

"Rock climbing? Near midnight on a Saturday?"

"Yeah, well, I've got lots of energy to burn, Steve," I half-joked

The line was silent for a little while...

"I'll be over in about 20 minutes, ok, Kara?"

"'Kay. See you soon."

I hopped into the shower right after he hung up; as embarrassed as I am to say it, yes, the smell of Matthew's sex was still on me when I'd decided to go on a date with someone else that very same night. Naughty Kara. Not to be defensive—ok, I guess I am being defensive, or I wouldn't have used that disclaimer—but I justified my actions as being totally non-slutty. I mean, even if I did sleep with Steve, he would be just one of a few, not many, as Matthew was one of my first; and besides, I was a horribly sexually unfulfilled woman at this point—or that was what I dramatically thought at that particular moment of self-pity. Either way, slutty or not, I wanted to see Steve that night; he seemed like a great guy, and after the creep I'd just let use my body as a warm receptacle for his cold seed for 10 minutes, I needed someone to talk and spend some time with...and yes, let's not ignore the obvious (bad, bad Kara!), maybe even get off with that very same night.

So I showered (thank goodness I didn't have to shave all over again! Maybe I should always have my dates all on one night, lol) Got dressed in a pretty casual yet sexy outfit of jeans and a tight silk sweater, cleaned up around the studio a little, then just as I popped open the wine (yes, you caught me, the wine that matt and I didn't bother opening during the tryst—so much for my attempts at romance), the buzzer sounded, and I ran down to greet him in the lobby.

As I opened the glass door, grinning from ear to ear, the first thing he said was: "You look amazing Kara... we'd better go get dinner now, cause if we go upstairs, I don't know if I'll be able to leave again." Sweet, huh?

He grabbed my hand as we walked out into the street and walked downtown in search of a cozy restaurant where we could talk for a while.

We found one, a cozy Italian place about 4 blocks from my apartment. It was so beautiful, candles and fresh flowers casting sweet scents everywhere. The dim lighting combined with the sexual tension and the rich food and wine made me feel more relaxed than I'd been in a while, and Steve and I started opening up to each other about our lives. I eventually got around to talking about things at work, and how worried I was about losing my job, with all of the responsibilities I had; I often get panic attacks about where my life is going, though I didn't share that part with him. I did tell him about my overwhelming fear of failure, and how the situation at work along with some things in my personal life had really gotten me down recently. He seemed to relate really well, being as ambitious as I was. I listened to him talk about the death of his parents when he was very young; the way he practically raised himself since the age of 16, and how far he'd made it on his own. I felt very close to him during and after our conversation. After dinner, we decided we were both a little too tipsy to even think about rock climbing, so we picked up a few comedies at the video store on the way back to my place.

Once there, we curled up onto the couch as "About a Boy" played in the background, and continued talking with one another in the candlelight. We talked about everything and about nothing; I showed him the scar above my knee from when I'd cut myself climbing that rickety fence in my neighbor's backyard before falling to the ground when I was 7... he told me stories about going to camp every summer before he turned 13. He brought up work again, asking me what I planned to do about the possibility of losing my job. It kind of killed the mood for me, because I honestly didn't know what to do. I just sat there in his arms quietly, trying not to think about it, trying not to let tears come to my eyes as I really contemplated what I would try to do to save my job, and what would happen if I couldn't.

"Hon, what do you think you'll do?" he repeated, thinking I hadn't heard the question.

I started to answer, then embarrassingly, my voice cracked before the first word was even out. I felt like such an idiot. One of our first official dates, and I start crying; this was exactly why I wanted to be here tonight to talk with someone familiar to me, so I wouldn't feel as stupid as I did right now. Apparently, Steve didn't think it was stupid though. He turned my face to his to see if I was really crying; I couldn't even look him in the eye when he did that, I was so ashamed...it only made the tears run down my cheeks more. I figured at this point, he would just apologize and leave, and I'd just have to settle for sinking into the carpet and wishing I was invisible every time I saw him at work after tonight. He surprised me though. He started kissing the tears off of my face; from my cheeks, my chin, my nose, my eyes. Soft, gentle kisses as he held my face between his hands. He whispered softly to me, telling me it would be okay, that he would do what he could to help me through this; to call him when I felt down and depressed, that he knew what it was like to be alone, and would be here for me. It was so sweet, and touched me so much, that the waterworks got even worse...I was almost blubbering by now. It was the single most embarrassing moment of my recent life except that he was being so sweet about it, and saying and doing all of the things that I needed that night. He was a real class act, and made me feel better about everything that had happened that night; he filled the hole that I'd been feeling and then some. We fell asleep on the couch that night, me curled into him in the fetal position, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around me, cheek to cheek; I can't remember the last time I slept so soundly and felt so cared for and so comforted.

To be continued...(with sex in part 3, you horndogs :P)

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