Strawberry Kisses Phavy Prieto (bookstand for reading TXT) 📖

bed and took the condom from his hands to put it on myself, before his attentive gaze, slowly sliding the latex along his hard penis.

I didn't consider myself a great lover or good enough in bed to do that, but Damian conveyed such an overwhelming sensuality that he made me feel confident like never before. I straddled him and felt him enter my body as he grabbed my hips to guide me with his hands.

I felt whole. I rode him until I finally reached the climax and an explosive orgasm went through my whole body.

"Do I really need to prove that you seduced me?" he said while I was still lying on his naked body.

A smile spread across my face. I began to draw small circles on his chest with my index finger, as if I wanted to paint that intimate, unique and sincere moment. I wanted it, I really wanted it all to be true.

Neither I nor Damian bothered to wear pajamas. We fell asleep on that soft bed in our birthday suits. My last memory before sleeping was Damian's arm on my belly that drew me close to him to feel my body.

That was heaven!

The next morning I felt something brushing my nose. As I opened my eyes, I saw a bouquet of at least two dozen red roses. I didn't know how to react.

"What is that?" I asked surprised.

"Red roses for you," he said. "Are they your favorite?" he asked placing the bouquet on the bed.

"No," I smiled.

"Okay. Roses discarded then. What about violets?"

"No," I replied with the same smile.

"Then I'll have to keep trying until I find out what your favorite flowers are," he whispered, giving me a fleeting kiss and getting out of bed.

"Wouldn't it be easier to ask me directly?" I replied thinking that he could ask a simple question instead of wasting so much money on flowers.

"I want to slowly taste you, savour you, feel you, so that you open to me like a flower in spring. If you told me everything there would be no mystery or pleasure in discovering you."

In all my fucking life no one had ever told me something so beautiful. I saw him disappear beyond the bathroom door and then I heard the shower running.

I gathered all the courage I had never had in my life and, without even having to undress, sneaked into the bathroom. I closed the sliding door and immersed myself in that hot steam. I looked at his broad and well-defined back and his buttocks that looked like those from the magazines.

"Are you one of those who likes to save on water?" he asked.

"Maybe," I whispered.

"If so, I will gladly have a shower with you every day. Lathering each other can be a lot of fun," he stated as the shampoo foam slid down his chest.

"If it were cream, I would have licked it right now," I thought in the grip of hunger that was beginning to assail me.

"Shall I start?" I said. I took the bar of soap and rubbed it between my palms and, once I placed it back on the shelf, put my hands on his chest.

Despite the sexual tension, neither of us went too far, maybe because the condoms were far away or maybe because it wasn't the most comfortable place to have sex or maybe because we were both exhausted from the previous night and we needed to eat to recover our strength. Whatever it was, my only certainty was that that shower with Adonis was fun and enjoyable, especially since it was the first time that someone had soaped me in my adulthood.

"Stay a little longer. I'll make breakfast and then we can go out. Put on comfortable clothes."

"Comfortable clothes? Where are we going?" I asked as I watched him get out of the shower and I began to lather my hair.

"We’re going for a walk," he said casually. Maybe he really wanted to have a walk and then have lunch somewhere.

I wore tight dark jeans that looked elegant and a rather comfortable and light chiffon blouse. I decided to wear sneakers with a bit of glitter so as not to look too casual and took a leather jacket in case it was cold. I dried my hair and wore some very light make-up.

"It smells good!" I exclaimed as I entered the living room heading for the kitchen.

"In your honor, I inaugurated the waffle maker my sister gave me last Christmas."

"Waffles? Oh, my God! They look good!" I exulted bringing one to my mouth, even though it had not been drizzled with syrup yet.

"What would you like? I have caramel, strawberry, chocolate... "

"If I choose the strawberry syrup, will you give me a kiss?" I said smiling, as I remembered his promise, then took another piece of waffle.

"Even if you choose another flavour, I’ll kiss you anyway," he replied, looking me in the eye. I had a lump in my throat because of the determination with which he pronounced those words.

I had now reached a point where I didn’t know whether it was true or not and I didn’t understand if it was good or bad. I was beginning to lose the perception of our situation which by now could be anything but a simple game.

"Chocolate," I whispered, still looking at him. He looked away to pour the syrup on the waffles and handed me the plate.

I took it and bit the waffle under his attentive gaze. As I swallowed it, his lips trapped mine, carrying away my feeling of emptiness and uncertainty. He had kept his promise: he kissed me. And what a kiss, ladies and gentlemen!

More kisses like these and I could end up in a psych ward.

Twenty minutes later we left the apartment. Damian had put on