Like she won’t even consider that something else might be just as fun, or more fun. One flavor,” he said, throwing himself back into his chair as if finally shaking off his burden. “Vanilla.” He brought his arms in front of his chest, palms facing up, lifted his shoulders. “Sometimes maybe a guy wants strawberry fudge ripple.”“Or mint double-chocolate swirl,” I confirmed, and smiled. “With sprinkles.”“Maybe some nuts…”“…and raspberry syrup,” I finished, nodding. We sat looking at each other.“A girl sometimes doesn’t want to be treated gently,” I confessed. “Sometimes I want to be desired instead of appreciated and worshipped. I want to think that I look so good to him that he can’t stop himself. God, sometimes I wish he’d just take me, throw me on the bed and have his way, or better, several ways, and just leave me there used up and weak.”“Yeah, imagine that. I did that once.” He looked at me with wistful remembrance. “Once. She accused me of treating her like a whore.” He chuckled. I really wanted another one and by the look on his face he wanted it too. After about an hour there we went upstairs together to take showers before going home. Camila and Nathan were there already watching his show so my idea of making out with Bruno while Marina took a shower disintegrated before my eyes. We had lunch, we packed the car and soon we were on the road going back to São Paulo. I sat on the window this time, and since the weather had changed, we had a blanket covering us. I saw the cities and farms pass through my window, not engaging in the conversation around me, too immersed in my thoughts. As soon as it grew dark, I felt Nathan's hand creeping under my t-shirt, pulling my bra up and fondling my boob. I sigh, enjoying the touch and I put my left hand on top of his jeans, looking for his dick, after all, two can play this game. We kept fondling each other in the dark of his father car until we got back in the city, keeping each other lightly aroused. After hours of.
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