Just A Babydoll Dress Read online

  Just A Babydoll Dress

  Nikki Whitsett

  Copyright (c) 2016 Nikki Whitsett

  Smashwords Edition

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.

  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Start of Just a Babydoll Dress

  About Nikki Whitsett

  Just a Babydoll Dress

  Insecurity’s a bitch.

  It’s important to acknowledge it when it’s there. Don’t hide from it or run from it. Acknowledge it and try to understand it. And then get to the bottom of it.

  Fuck, I’m lecturing myself.

  And at a time like this too.

  I don’t know how this always happens to me. But I start with one broken heart and then suddenly have several men fighting to pick up the pieces. I shouldn’t need them. I feel awful for needing them.

  And I don’t think I actually DO need them.

  And yet here I am, staring at my stupid reflection in Travis’ hotel bathroom. And this is my second night away from home. Last night, it was Brendan’s…

  Brendan is a good guy, even if he’s a total man whore. I mean, 100+ women? Really? He must have some extroverted insecurities that can only be alleviated by the opposite sex in his arms. Which might make two of us.

  I know it’s wrong but I like the attention. And I’m horny as fuck.

  And despite my endless bar hopping and the fact that I haven’t been home in over 42 hours, I have actually not yet brought myself to sleep with anyone. Well wait, I slept in Brendan’s bed. I should be clearer. I have not yet brought myself to fuck anyone. Not since …. Does it show off my nerdy/dorky side to want to call my five-year-ex, HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED? The answer is yes, yes, I’m sure. I just can’t face my disappointment in men and relationships by bringing myself to say his name.

  And so many of my friends keep telling me to just do it – have a one-night stand. Ugh.

  I just didn’t want to fuck Brendan.

  And for some crazy ridiculous reason I can’t fathom for even a moment, I want to fuck Travis. Travis with his boring job, his annoyingly white teeth, his barely-my-height stature…

  See, Brendan was classically handsome.

  Travis is maybe ruggedly handsome at best. Which doesn’t sound bad at all actually, now that I put it like that.

  Okay, I believe in embracing the over-thinker in me. And that’s pretty much what I’m doing right now. But let’s not get ridiculous here, right? I am in a guy’s bathroom for goodness sake.

  Then again, I can’t go back out there until I know whether or not want I to proceed. So let’s think about this. Just commit to the rabbit hole already.

  I didn’t want to fuck Brendan, a guy that I was attracted to immediately. And yet now, I want to fuck Travis, a guy that turned me off immediately. What is wrong with me?

  Shit, that’s probably a long list…

  Alright, what is the takeaway from my night with Brendan? He’s tall, handsome, big, loving, sweet, keeps calling me darling and babe almost every other breath he takes. And jeez, what a cuddler. He just wraps himself around me. I told him I didn’t want to fuck him — a statement I was sure was bullshit that I would eventually contradict. But then I didn’t. Nor did I really feel tempted to. When he was looking at me, holding my waist, trying to pull me into him – I just didn’t want him. So. Okay. Noteworthy.

  And though he pretends to be the good guy who would never dream of pressuring me, he was almost passive aggressive about it too. That’s not in my head, right? I don’t know. He looked at me and said, “It’s so great you trust me enough to sleep over here when you don’t want to fuck. SO GREAT!” That last ‘so great’ was just … not genuine? God, I’m sure anyone listening to my stream of consciousness would think I’m a psychotic bat right now. But he made it so clear that he wanted to fuck. And when I told him to stop touching my legs, he said “Shh, just let it happen.” I took it innocently but still pointed it out, just to get called out for “bringing the rapey vibe” into the room.

  It’s so hard for me to notice things like that in the moment. I just thought I wasn’t horny. And I guess I only notice those other contributing factors now because of Travis. Because something is different when Travis gets close to me and puts his arm around me.

  Just moments ago, he put his hand on my back, began the trek down my lower back, but then stopped before getting anywhere. And then he told me why: “I could keep going. And I know you’d like it. But I also know you don’t want it right now.” He didn’t make me feel guilty about it. There was no note of passive aggressiveness. He just acknowledged it.

  It made me feel heard when I didn’t even need to say anything.

  And now suddenly, I look at his stupid angular face and I DO want him.

  Maybe giving into Brendan wouldn’t have felt empowering. Maybe I knew I would’ve felt just like a puppet. And yet giving in to Travis does empower me. Maybe that’s why I want him. Deciding to go back into his room and fuck him, that is a powerful, strong choice that I get to make, because he lets me feel powerful in making it.

  Okay, I’m proud of this thought process. Proud of where I’ve landed. And proud of my analytical thinking: I WANT to have sex with this man and I have found a logical reason for my unsuspected physical response!

  I smile at myself in the mirror and enjoy that feeling of thinking I’m sexy. Just let it wash over while I build my excitement for this decision.

  I step outside and his friend from the bar is here now. I guess that’s his roommate for the night. Fucking cockblock roommate. And there’s a girl with him. Maybe they’ll just leave us alone. Maybe Travis and I can leave.

  “Worried you fell in there for a second.” Haha, funny. Don’t make fun of me when I’ve decided I want to fuck you, asshole. Though I kind of like his asshole front. Because as soon as he looks at me, his asshole front is gone. He stares at me like he sees through me. And I do feel a genuine connection with him. We only spent the last 5 hours talking about our childhoods and the evolution of our emotional awareness (or equivalent lack thereof). It sounds cliché, I know, but he leveled with me. Maybe he’s only being an asshole now because the new people bring back that asshole front. And I kinda like that. It’s almost endearing. The side he reserves for certain people who earn it…

  Okay, I want to fuck him again. Like even more now.

  I walk to his side of the room and try not to smirk. But I can’t help it. Everything is different now that I’ve made my decision and I’m not floundering. I’m not indecisive; I know what I want.

  “Maybe Travis wants to join us…” says a high pitched Snow White type voice.

  I literally paid no attention to this girl until those words caught my ear. Now, I see she’s wearing a midriff top and short skirt. And a lot of makeup. And she’s giving Travis a slobbering dog kind of look.

  She’s dressed better than me, showing off how thin she is. My babydoll dress is cute, but I could easily be pregnant under here and no one would be the wiser.

  Suddenly I’m competing against a girl that already has a guy? A girl that wants, what? An orgy? Fuck, this is too much. I just got on board with having sex again after He Who Must Not Be Named. I don’t want a fucking orgy. I don’t want a weird girl with her mouth open taking all the attention.

  So much for my decision.

  Travis starts talking to her too. More than just talking to her. He’s engaging her. I hear him say, “I don’t know, does that top stay on?” And she giggles. Oh my God, okay, I have to go. My purse is by the corner where he’s standing, so I make my way and keep my eyes trained on the floor.

  As soon as I’m close to
him, he puts his arms around me and now I’m really confused. I hear her ask him if she should show him a preview now. But he doesn’t answer her and just looks at me. He doesn’t seem to be acknowledging her anymore. Not now that I’m close to him. He gives me that look again that I thought I saw earlier. It’s one of those looks that could make you feel like the only person in the world. Okay, maybe I don’t forget the whole world, but I do forget the rake of a girl flirting with him just 10 feet away from me.

  I try to speak anyways. “Look, if you just want … THAT … you should … I’ll just go.”

  “Come to the patio with me.” He grabs my wrists and I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. He shuts the door behind us and starts shivering. “Fuck, it’s cold,” he says.

  I laugh. And then I don’t get it again. “So go back inside?”

  “Shhh,” he says. He pulls my body into his like he’s trying to steal my warmth. I kind of like it, too.

  “That girl seemed more interested in you than your friend,” I say for no real reason. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.

  “Yeah, he’ll get over it.”

  I realize that he made the choice to isolate us from her. I can get in my head about what he wants or whether she’s hotter than me. But he chose to isolate us. Even if he engaged her and treated her like a horny asshole might treat her, he chose to focus his time on me instead.

  We talk more. Small talk at first. The stars are really pretty, that kind of thing. The whole slutty threesome thing really threw a wrench in my plans. So I just want to talk to him now. Get comfortable again.

  He keeps his hands on my waist and he listens to me as I talk.

  I finally feel like I have to point this out. “You’d rather just talk to me out in the cold than have sex with a sure thing inside a warm room?”

  “Well when you put it like that…”

  Fuck no. I smack him and try to wiggle away but he keeps his grip on my waist firm.

  And I feel stupid for sounding so insecure. Is it so ridiculous to think this is an intellectual guy who doesn’t want his conquest to be so easy? Maybe he wants a bit of a challenge – the girl in the baby doll dress hiding her curves. I didn’t mean to wear it, it was just the only outfit I had in my car after failing to go home last night/this morning too. Seems like it’s working out for me just fine.

  I curl into him more. And I just feel like testing him. I close my eyes and say, “What color are my eyes?”

  “What?” I bet he looks adorable as he says that.

  “I want to make out with you but I won’t make out with a guy who doesn’t know the color of my eyes. Though if five hours with me isn’t enough for you to notice …”

  He puts his face on my cheek so I can feel the smile. And then he whispers, “I’d be willing to bet the only reason you wear this damn adorable blue dress is to bring them out.”

  The only reason is a bit of a stretch … but I open my eyes to smile at him. My breath catches as my eyes meet his. I just stare into them. I’m thinking about kissing him, wanting to kiss him, but I just stare at him instead. I did just tell him that I want to make out. Fuck, I don’t even care. Look at his eyes, I could get lost in those.

  And then finally, he moves in and kisses me. His lips are firm. Firmer than I thought they’d be for his height. (I know, I’m a height snob, shut up.)

  And his hands expand to cover more surface area on my back. I keep pace with his lips but I’m letting him the lead the way. It’s unusual for me. But I like it. I push my chest against his and let him pull my upper lip between his teeth.

  His kissing makes me dizzy. I have to pull back for a second and he uses my head tilt to start suckling on my neck. I’m usually not one for hickeys but I don’t want him to stop. I want him to bruise my entire neck if it means I’ll feel his firm lips on me like that.

  And I want his hands all over me. I want them to explore more, but they just stay there. Fine. I move my hands up his chest. I trace them along his shoulders and then grab the back of his neck and pull him closer against me.

  Now his hands move below my waist. Finally. It takes a shift in positioning, but now he lets his hands wander to my thighs. The first touch is electric, I almost jump. Actually, no, I do jump. Because I’m now looking at him with my mouth wide open and my hair just in my eyeline, figuring out if it wants to be in my face or not. He moves it out of my face (and my thigh misses the hand he uses so fucking bad). Now he just stares at me.

  My heart is racing. In fact, I feel a bit like my insides are crushing into a black hole. I feel dizzier and dizzier. He holds me firm but kisses me so tenderly. I want more. I want more so fucking badly.

  I thrust my hands against him and try to push him away. He lets me at first and then holds firmer once he sees the excitement on my face. I start pushing against him, just so he can pin me harder against the patio door. He has me so firmly pinned now, I can lift my leg and wrap it around him. Oh God, this is something I thought about earlier. When he first put his arms around me, I just wanted to wrap my legs around him so bad.

  And both hands are on my thighs again. Thank the fucking Lord. As I lift my other leg to wrap around him too, his hands go straight to my ass to support me. And immediately, they trace the lining of my satin panties.

  More electric shocks as he traces the border. My fucking eyes basically go cross-eyed. I try to keep my breath and realize he’s not kissing me. Which means he’s just looking at me.

  I have a brief moment of self-consciousness before I feel sexier than I’ve ever felt and let out a moan. I open my eyes lightly and use my hands to pull him even closer to me, to grip him like a spider pulling in her prey.

  I hear his breath shutter and know I’ve won. There’s no better win and I want his clothes off.

  His thumb starts to trace beneath my underwear, right along my clit. His touch is so tender and light at first, it gives me more frustration than pleasure. But quickly, he’s firmer and harder with it and I feel myself practically dripping on him.

  I grind my hips against him, starting a new rhythm against his thumb. His works both against and with mine and I want to cry out from how good the stimulation feels. My hands grab his shirt and start unbuttoning from the top. It takes all my self-control to not just rip them off. And then, fuck it, why NOT just rip them off?

  I just give in. I want his shirt off. I don’t think any buttons actually do rip off though. Whatever.

  His chest feels hard – not ripped – but hard. And I can’t help but look at him because he’s so warm, he’s making me even warmer. It WAS cold out here. It was! Now, I’m getting overheated.

  He moves his hands slightly to help me get his shirt out of the way. But he continues to hold me up by pushing his hips hard into me against the door. If I was dizzy before, I’m about to pass out. A hard lever presses into me and makes me cry out again. Knowing it’s not a lever of course, I’m not fucking naïve. But holy fuck, it is a really hard cock. And it is further from me than I would like considering the damn clothing barriers that remain.

  I realize, though it takes a moment, that with his shirt out of the way, there’s a direct route for my hands to his jeans.

  I’m lightheaded again and my fingers are fumbling along the button of his jeans.

  He doesn’t even help me, stupid fucker. But I eventually get it and I push the denim down.

  A blue plaid staff pushes up against my hands and oh my God, he’s big. I don’t even want to play more games. Fuck foreplay. Not right now. Not like this.

  I’m so wet, I can practically feel my clit throbbing. And I want the blue plaid down. The boxers are adorable, but I want them gone.

  Once you’ve slept with enough guys, the novelty of a cock starts to ware off. But not in the moment like this. Not when merely touching it makes it both redden and harden a little bit more. And then a light twitch from your touch too? That’s just a bonus.

  I whimper and it’s not even intentional.

  His hands a
re pulling at my panties now and I just want them pulled off. I move my hand to my hip to help him and he stops me. He holds my hand down against the glass patio door.

  A rush of desire courses through me. I look into his eyes and finally make myself say, “Please take them off.”

  He smiles and starts to bite his bottom lip like he’s reviewing me. Please review me. Please don’t stop. “Well since you asked nicely,” he finally says. There’s an awkward moment when he realizes my legs are spread with him in between them … kinda hard to take my panties off that way. But I don’t want to move my legs and I don’t want to alter my proximity to his cock.

  I finally pull on them myself hard enough that I hear the elastic rip. Those were new but I do not give a fuck. I feel the cold air on my cunt and I ram it against him. He slips in almost immediately and the contact makes my knees shake and shiver before it’s the cold air again.

  He grabs my thigh again to help still the shaking and then looks at me. His eyes carry such purpose and I just want to look down at his cock and make him press it into me. He stops me though and lifts my head up with his chin, making me look at him, into his eyes.

  I’m a little resistant but I let him lift my head up. And I hope he’ll fuck me as I look at him ….

  He doesn’t at first and it drives me fucking mad.

  But finally, he looks at me harder and … I think I might need to hold myself up in the right position to glide him in or, hell, even adjust in the smallest way, but I don’t. He stares me the fuck down while his cock slides directly deep inside me.

  And holy shit does it feels good. It just fills me. He keeps it in there and I suddenly need his shoulder in my mouth. I find it and bite down hard, just in time for him to pull out and push in harder. A scream escapes into the skin of his shoulder and I want more. I want it again.

  He fucking obliges and I let my fingernails find his scapula and wrap around it. Every thrust in makes me heave harder, grind faster against him, and finally, I’m just fucking screaming with no care at all about who the fuck will hear me.