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Three women teach him the solution to flying jitters.


It was low cut. It was thigh high, loose and flowing around her legs, but tight on her hips. He groaned quietly. He couldn't stand if it she wore that dress. She was chatting with him while she put on her makeup. He wandered restlessly around her apartment, knowing if he saw her cleavage, he was a goner.

She presented herself before him like a pretty wrapped Christmas gift.

For a whole minute he just stood there staring at her, blushing, salivating. He felt like a wolf eyeing a deer. He wanted her. He wanted to do things to her, with her. He wanted to wrap her around him, to split her in two.

She looked at him, worried. "What? You don't like it? I thought you liked this dress."

He nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from her hips. He'd always been a breast man, but now her hips had him hypnotized. He took a deep breath and made eye contact. "You're killing me. You're too beautiful."

She blushed deeply.

* * *

It had been a week and he hadn't had an orgasm. He hadn't even touched his own cock. He was in a desperate state. He couldn't do anything wrong. He had to be on his best behavior. He had no snide comments, no sarcasm. He thought about everything he said, twice, before he said it. He couldn't let this night go by without getting between her legs.

She spoke about work. He was a sponge, soaking up every word in awe of every smile, every twinkle of her eye. Every facial expression was like the super bowl. He analyzed her, studied her. His focus was complete. Her and only her.

She told him he was acting unusually attentive. He blew it off, but she was right.

After dinner, they went for a stroll on the romantic river walk. When the path turned, where a lamplight flickered like a candle, he pulled her in close and kissed her and kept kissing her. He sank his teeth into her neck, filled himself up with her perfume, gorged himself on the smell of her hair. He wanted to fling himself deep into her until he was swallowed whole.
They made out for awhile, before she pulled away. They strolled some more, sometimes talking, sometimes quiet, but together.

"So," she whispered, "what do you think?"

He sighed, brushing her hair from her face, lost in her eyes. "About what?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed which made him laugh. "About this, all of this, what we've been doing."

He thought about it. "Well . . . it's driving me crazy. I want you so bad I can't stand it."

She blushed and pressed her arms into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her as she cuddled ever closer. Her hair was below his nose. He closed his eyes, the smell of her making him lightheaded. "You're so attentive, so into me. It's been so long since I felt you really, truly wanted me. I've never felt like you really needed me."

He murmured. "I need you now."

"So," she continued reluctantly, "should keep going?"

He moaned and tightened his grip on her. "Yes, please."

"No," she giggled, "I mean our little plan."

He pulled back enough to see her face. "There's more."

She grinned. "It never ends."

He thought about it. Really thought about it. "I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I can't believe I've managed to do it for a whole week."

She frowned. "Oh."

"But as desperate as I am to have you, I know what you mean. I haven't felt like this about you since when we were first dating. Back then, everything was new. I didn't know you and I wanted to, and I would've done just about anything to get you. It feels a lot like that."

She blushed and snuggled closer. She was intoxicating. He was hard and he was pressed up against her and he knew she could feel it. "So, do we continue with the next step of the plan?"

"What's the next step?" he asked, kissing the top of her forehead, down to her nose, and finally catching her lips warm, wet, open and waiting.

She grinned and whispered as she kissed him. "You'll find out."

* * *

They made it to her apartment.

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