poeticdesires

the life and musings of a kinky slut

29

West Saint Paul The Knight (part two)
http://thmiii.com/thmiii.com/Trouble_in_Vicksburg.html ~ a fairy tale ~

“What was up with you tonight? You don’t normally get this bad.”
“I was just trying to have some fun.”

I could still hear how wrong my words sounded. I hoped Manny wouldn’t think less of me from my display this evening.

His block really was close. In just a few minutes we were walking up two flights of stairs before he opened the door to his apartment.

It was simple, cleaner than I expected from a guy who lived alone. Old high school photos, family portraits, and group shots of friends I didn’t know were scattered like starbursts on every wall. A tall bookcase was overrun with books. His flatscreen was big, just like him.

“Come on.”

Manny led me into his bedroom, a huge king sized bed, four postered, metal; strong enough to handle a guy like him.

“You’re gonna take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No. No. You shouldn’t… I couldn’t… Please. It’s huge. And you’re nice. We can share.”

I gave up on trying to sound sober. I dropped my bag on the floor and unzipped my jacket, flinging it to the ground as well.

“You gotta a t-shirt I can borrow.”

Manny left for a moment and came back. It was an old jersey with Central High and the number twenty-nine written in faded gold on the front.

“You went to Central? So did I.”
“Yeah, I know.”

I stripped my clothes off. Manny turned around, not watching. My boots proved to be harder than I remembered.

“Manny, can you help me? It’s okay; I’m decent.”

And I was, mostly. I’d gotten my clothes off and was wearing his jersey, which was so big it fit like a dress on me. But I hadn’t worn any underwear. I knew he might see more than he bargained for, but I needed help and was in no way modest at the moment.

“It’s my boots. Could you help me get them off?”

Manny knelt in front of me as I sat on his bed. For some reason he reminded me of a knight from a fairy tale. He was caring, gentle as he unzipped the side of boot and firmly pulled the leather off. He set them by my other clothes, a pile of my things on the floor.

“Thank you, Manny. Manny, could you help me… take my fishnets off.”
“I like you, chica, and on another night I gladly would, but you’ve had too many.”

He stood and strode off. I kept my fishnets on and slipped under the covers on his bed.

My eyes were closed before I realized it.

When I woke up, sunlight was streaming into the room. Somehow I’d migrated over towards Manny’s side of the bed. He’d been sweet again. My head rested on his chest, his arms around me. I didn’t remember ever moving during the night.

As I looked on him, his massive chest undulating as he slept, I wondered how he knew me so well, and why I’d never seen him as he was now before, a kind caring huge hunk of a man. My very own white knight saving me from the dark night.


Categorised as: Gen Fiction

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