Chapter 36
36
Rachel
Iactually was on birth control. My periods were irregular, and with a job that demanded I fly around from country to country all the time, being able to predict my time of the month was a huge benefit.
But yes, I know…
It was stupid to trust a guy I’d just met.
Especially when unprotected sex was the reward for telling me what I wanted to hear.
I could almost hear my mother’s bitter, scolding voice:
ALL men lie. Every last one of them.
But I believed Lars. I believed that he’d been tested and hadn’t had sex since he’d been deployed.
I justified my trust with He saved my life today up on the roof. If I could trust him with that, I can trust him with this.
Besides, ‘doing stupid stuff’ seemed to be the theme of the night.
But while it might have been stupid…
…oh my GOD was it worth it.
The feeling the first time he slipped inside me without a condom on…
JESUS.
It was the difference between a decadent tiramisu and a really good biscuit.
For you Americans, a biscuit is British for ‘cookie.’ And tiramisu is the quintessential Italian dessert. It’s made of ladyfingers soaked in coffee (preferably espresso)… layered with a creamy whipped mixture of eggs, sugar, and sweet mascarpone… and dusted with cocoa.
A good biscuit can be excellent. Crisp… crunchy… a wonderful addition to tea time.
But good tiramisu is a world of difference.
The way it feels on your tongue and lips…
The explosion of flavors in your mouth… the sensual feel of the cream…
No biscuit in the world can match it. The only way you prefer a biscuit is if you hate tiramisu.
And there are plenty of people who hate tiramisu. Just like there are plenty of lesbians who wouldn’t touch a cock with a ten-foot pole. (There’s a joke in there somewhere about ‘touching his pole with a pole p>
But I love tiramisu.
And while Lars’s cock with a condom on was the best goddamn biscuit I’d ever had –
His ‘version’ of tiramisu was absolutely mind-blowing.
I could feel every inch of him like a caress inside my pussy…
The difference between satin and plastic wrap.
My eyes rolled back in my head, and I let out a little cry just from him slipping inside me.
And remember, this was after already having two ‘lifetime best’ orgasms within the last 30 minutes.
I should have been sated. Not as hungry. Less sensitive.
But the feeling of him inside me with nothing between us?
That long, thick, gorgeous cock filling me up?
His incredible hardness covered by the softest of skin, leaving nothing but overwhelming pleasure every place it touched inside me?
Best goddamn tiramisu in the world.