The Game ... First Time Sex: Part 17 - Pillow Talk
*** The Game ... first time sex: Part 17 Pillow Talk
Please read chapters 1 - 16 to get totally absorbed in the story and understand the relationship that develops between Donna, Marcus, Tonya and me during past year. Thanks again for all the feedback and emails. This chapter is long and full of details. If you are not following the story closely, skip towards the end for the action as usual.
After eating at the Opaque restaurant and staying at Jadon and Tamara's apartment last night, Donna and Tonya drop Marcus and me off at our houses just before noon on Sunday. It's the day before Valentine's Day. We rest a couple of hours, and Marcus and I make arrangements to shop for valentines gifts for Donna and Tonya. In addition to giving them roses, Marcus and I want to give them something they can open especially since we know that they have something special for us. Donna has something exciting since she asked Tamara to buy the gifts for her. It's got to be something that will completely surprise Donna and Tonya.
My mom offers to drop us in a shopping district downtown. Geez, we just came from here, but Marcus had to check in with his parents, and we both needed a shower and change of clothes from the long night. Since my mom is driving us, it may be awkward if we buy intimate stuff. My mom may be curious and ask see what we buy, but I have an idea if that happens. We can buy some scented candles or some other type of romantically-neutral stuff to show my mom.
It's a long way to the part of town where we can shop for girly shit. We take a trolley away from where my mom drops us and browse somewhat quickly through a few shops. We see nothing that captures our interest.
"We can't get into the shops that sell the fun toys," I say.
"We should have thought about that last week. Shopping online for that shit is easier," says Marcus.
"Except for explaining the credit charges," I respond.
"I think your mom knows you're fucking Tonya until her eyes are popping out of their sockets," laughs Marcus.
"You little bitch, you know I can't stand thinking about my mom knowing anything we do. I bet your mom loves the thought of you sticking your dick in and older girl's tight pussy," I shoot back.
"Fuuuck, if she thought Donna was fucking me, whether she is Jewish or not, she would lock me up," Marcus is suddenly startled at the thought.
"OK. Stop talking about mothers. If I get that on my mind, I can't think of getting anything hot for Tonya," I say with the thought making me shudder.
"Ok truce," he agrees.
"We don't want the girls to think that we're taking them for granted. Flowers are nice, but we need something more," I continue.
"Well, we're in a jam. Since we saw the gifts that Tamara bought for Donna and Tonya to give us, we'll look cheap just giving them flowers," says Marcus.
"Probably not cheap, but a little thoughtless since flowers are so cliché," I add.
"How about lingerie?" asks Marcus.
"Oh yeah, Sure," I say sarcastically. "Just call one of your sisters and ask them to buy bras and panties for us," I laugh.
"Fuuuck you. No way," says Marcus taking me seriously.
"I'm not going to a lingerie shop and buy that shit," I shudder at the thought.
"It's not like buying sex toys. Let's go," says Marcus acting brave as he points out a lingerie shop across the street.
"Geezus. We should have called Tamara and asked her to shop with us," I say regretfully.
"Well, we're here now," says Marcus being more assertive than me at the moment.
We walk to a shop called Dollhouse Bettie featuring vintage lingerie. Holy fucking shit. There are dressing areas kind of roped off with curtains that just drape in front of where women try on whatever they want to wear. Geezus, this makes Victoria's Secret look like a monastery not that I've been in Victoria's Secret, but I have looked into the windows.
At first we don't call attention to ourselves, but soon we get a few looks, and we are approached by a beautiful lady. We are obviously out of place.
"Can I help you?" she asks.
Oh my gosh. Please no hard ons here. Who the hell am I asking? Wishful thinking because my dick is feeling the urge to react to the beautiful young lady in front of me.
The pause is nearly embarrassing so Marcus says, "He's looking for something for Valentine's."
Fucking little brat. Lay it on me while I'm paralyzed with desire as I look into her eyes. Gawd damn, one of these days I'm going to think of a good payback for the little prick. I am obviously awkward and hesitant to say anything.
The salesperson uses some humor to lighten it up, "So you're looking for something for Valentine's Day. You see anything that you want to try on?"
I laugh and feel a bit relieved that she broke my gazing paralysis.
Marcus says, "It's for my girlfriend. And he wants some too."
Fucking damn. What did he just say? I want some too?
I feel compelled to say, "I am looking for something too."
Marcus chimes in with comedy and has no remorse with his sexy humor, "Yeah he wants something too. Where do we start?"
I have to stop this banter, or I'm going to die of embarrassment if Marcus keeps up this play on words.
"We both need to buy something for our girl friends. They're coming tomorrow night," I say.
Holy fucking shit. What the hell am I saying? They're coming?
"They are coming to meet us tomorrow night for Valentine's," I say quickly trying to correct my words.
Well, damn. She knows I'm getting hot just standing in a store of underwear with a hot girl and feeling my crouch rising. Gawd damn, now I'm the ice statue, and Marcus hasn't a care in the world as he hides behind my awkwardness.
"What do you have," asks Marcus.
Now what the fucking hell is he asking? He's got to be choosing his words for double meanings. I can see she's got a lot. She is absolutely gorgeous.
"Do you know the sizes that you need?" she asks.
"My girlfriend's about five feet six inches and his girl friend is a little taller," I state proudly not knowing that this isn't enough information to buy anything to fit correctly.
"We need to know waist sizes and things like that," she says mercifully trying to keep us or me from being awkward.
I'm holding my breath hoping Marcus won't chime in with anything about breast sizes or shit like that.
"You don't know Tonya's breast size?" he asks, and I look at him with dagger eyes.
"Let's look at some things and see what appeals to you," she offers very professionally as I'm trying to concentrate to keep from getting hard.
"I like everything," says Marcus, and all I can think of is that he's talking about sex.
And he is. He knows he's playing on his words, and he knows I'm fucking uncomfortable, but he keeps his straight face. Of course we like everything, and we like everything we see in the shop. Oh fucking damn. I can't think of anything except fucking this beautiful woman. Hell, I'll buy anything she shows me at this point. If I don't say something intelligent, Marcus is going to keep up his dry humor, and I'm going to get hard.
I think she is now sensing my uncomfortable feelings and awkwardness and turns her attention to me and says, "Let me show you some different looks."
"This is the Dessous Bohèmes line exclusive to our shop," she says once again in her professional voice, but I would like to hear it in her breathy, sexy voice.
Then she shows us a Silk Crepe Kitten set. Next, we are shown a Deja Vu Dessous line which we don't like at all. After a few more, my favorite is the Dollhouse Betty Silk crepe de Chine, and Marcus is absolutely mesmerized by the Mary Green Satin Doll Black Stretch Silk kimono and the matching the satin doll silk boy shorts. It has no matching bra because none is required to be worn underneath. Geezus, it will look great on Donna.
Finally she wisely advises us, "Since you don't know the exact sizes needed, why don't you get a gift certificate, and then you can shop along with your girl friends?"
"That's a great idea," I say.
"Call Tamara and ask her if she knows their sizes first," says Marcus.
"I didn't think of that," I say.
I call Tamara and explain our predicament. She is thrilled that we are picking out such intimate gifts and asks to speak to the salesperson. After they talk for a few moments, I see that the salesperson is jotting down some measurements.
"OK. I have all the information to choose the right sizes. I'll gift wrap these," she says.
After we leave the store with our presents tucked inside some oversized bags, I also worry about the extra charges if that is brought up when the credit card statement arrives. Geezus, two hundred fifty dollars for dinner on Saturday night, one hundred dollars for roses since we got some for our moms, and then a hundred and fifty dollars for lingerie at the Dollhouse will take some explaining or maybe some avoiding. I hope I can avoid the explanation, but I'm so emotional now that I don't think about the logic of having to explain things if the charges catch my dad's eye.
I call my mom who has been shopping too and tell her where to pick us up.
"When my mom arrives, just tell her we had some candles and candy gift wrapped," I prompt Marcus before he says anything to embarrass me.
"No problem," he says.
"By the way, you sure were on the edge of teasing with your words to the clerk in there," I scold him.
"I was just trying to see how embarrassed I could make you," he laughs.
"You little prick. I knew you were doing that," I say.
"Well, it worked," he laughs.
My mom picks us up, and I'm ready to go home. It's been a long weekend.
"I have one more stop. It won't take long," she says.
"Where we going?" I ask.
"Rainbow grocery. It's only about 2 miles away," she says.
That's a fucking organic store. mom and dad love that shit, so we have to tag along. Every time I walk through an organics store I feel like I'm going camping and living off the land. Marcus parents buy as much organic stuff as they can too. Organic milk is OK, but all the weird herbs and other off-the-wall stuff in those stores look like a scene from a Chinese apothecary or a medieval witch's storehouse for potions. Hell, we live in mansions, and but we eat like we are hunter-gatherers sometimes. Solar shit all over the roof, water restrictive valves, recycling, and of course, talking responsibly is all part of the latest rage to make sure you are saving the environment. Whatever, if it helps, I want to do it. But, come on, who's the better environmentalist, a guy living on the street off-the-grid or the organic crowd living in huge, Al-Gore-like homes? Al Gore is a great salesperson. His house uses 20 times the energy of the average guy in a year, yet he is an environmentalist. Just saying, it's easy to talk it, but it's hard to walk it even with the best intentions. I'll do my part and leave the others to review their own impact on the environment.
When we get to the Rainbow grocery, I can't help myself from looking for one more present and ask a female clerk for some advice. She's over-the-hill and must be at least in her early thirties, so I don't fantasize fucking her. Well, maybe a little. She has a nice ass and tanned legs. She's kind of natural all over which is a good fit in an organic shop. After another look, I like her eyes, and I bet she is great in bed so now all I can think about is fucking her, but she wouldn't be interested in me. I bet she thinks I'm still a virgin. Gawd damn, I can't wait to see Tonya tomorrow.
"So both of you are shopping for your girl friends? I have something that I like, and it's very environmentally friendly," she adds.
She hands us a small jar of Natural Spa Sea Wonders Sea Soap Shower Wash, but doesn't look that special as I look at her eyes once more.
"It's made by Aubrey Organics and they are very conscious about their ingredients," she explains.
"Can you gift wrap them?" I ask getting back to practicalities.
"Sure. So you both want one?" she asks.
I'm thinking that I want one of her, and forget to answer.
"Yes," says Marcus.
"Any other things about it that are interesting?" I ask looking for material for the presentation and little more time to look at her lips.
I mean, it's a small jar of body wash. It doesn't look that impressive, and I'm trying to make it a special gift as I try to pull my thoughts away from this woman's beautiful body, and her voice sounds so tender.
"As I said, the company is very concerned about making products that are safe and don't contribute any adverse impact on the environment. There are no ingredients that are harmful to humans, no petrochemicals and synthetics, and it's simply one of the best organic companies in the world. And the body wash is scent free," she announces proudly.
Scent free? Ok. No problem. The stuff about the environment has possibilities to turn a mundane gift into a thoughtful present, and the shit you put on your body, or in your body, should be good for you, the environment, and not cause cancer. Well, fuck, if I have to say all of that when I'm giving a Valentine's Day present, I'll sound like I'm selling a multi-level marketing product. I might as well present it to my Biology class for a fucking project. What the hell? It's fucking body wash. OK, Ok, I can make this work. It's just so hard to show Tonya I love her with material things. Look, the expensive underwear won't last a few minutes before I remove it. The flowers sit in her room and die. So maybe a thoughtful organic product will help out, but no scent? Geezus.
It's probably a mistake to put so much emphasis on the material things when we share so many intimate thoughts and feelings, but a relationship is built from many areas, the physical, the psychological, and the material. Variety is important, and Valentine's Day is a great time to have all three. As a relationship grows from the physical and the psychological needs, eventually there are responsibilities for providing the material needs for survival in whatever environment you choose to live.
In a National Geographic documentary, I saw a negotiation between two different tribes for the payment of a wife. The amount of pigs, hand-woven bags, and necklaces to buy a wife for a male teenager involves everyone in the tribe because their survival depends on the outcome. When a tribe gives up a female, it is losing something valuable for its survival. In turn, the tribe expects to be reimbursed with survival materials commensurate with the loss.
The negotiation is as intense as a stockholder meeting, and everyone has a stake in the outcome. I'm sure the guy and girl are thinking, 'hurry up...we just want to fuck,' but hell no, before they can fuck, someone is giving up their food and other necessities. The way I see it, every culture has providers who worry about the material things needed for the one you love. Even if she is bonded to your soul like Tonya is to mine you have to worry about surviving so you can love. The negotiation between the tribes ended in 6 pigs, 10 hand-woven bags, and a necklace, and after a ceremony the couple finally got to fuck. We seem to be backwards in our society. We fuck and then later worry about providing for our in-laws to keep them happy especially around the holidays.
It was at a party...
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