Sex Can Wait ( story ) … Marcel Lee

Several seconds of awkward silence are broken by the unmistakable sound of two people having sex in the bedroom, which causes her to bust-out laughing. I laugh along with her; not so much because I think it’s funny to hear the bed creaking, but because this is the perfect opportunity to make my move.

“Wow,” she says with a big grin. “Yeah, they some freaks,” I say. “What about you?”

I probably wouldnt’ve thrown that question out there like that if I’d given myself a few seconds to think about it, but her grin doesn’t go away as she answers it. “I ain’t no freak,” she says with pride; “I mean, I can be, but… You know what I’m saying?”

That’s just the answer I wanted to hear. She basically just admitted that she’s a freak. And not because of the double negative. Saying that she “can” be a freak means she’s a freak, which is easier for a girl to admit than being a ho; even though, in this case, they mean the same.

“So you’re not a freak but you can be,” I say; not missing a beat; “Hmm.”

For some reason, that “hmm” makes her start laughing again; one of those uncontrollable laughs that makes you bend over and close your eyes. If she was nervous when she first got here, she’s certainly starting to relax now. So I keep at it.

“Well, I’m not a freak either,” I say; “But I can be too.”

She starts laughing even more; this time forgetting to put her hand over her mouth, which shows me her wet teeth and gums. And that’s my cue to continue. “Sooo,” I say, “let’s get freaky tonight.”

She starts to laugh even more, but stops herself and goes back to the grin. “Okay, okay,” she says; “I’m not gon lie. I do think you’re cute, but… I’m on my period.”

“Well, I can see you’re not bleeding from the mouth.” That’s what I want to say. But I think that might be going too far. So I just tell her she’s lying.

“I swear to God I’m on my period,” she says. “Yeah right,” I respond; “You just scared.”

“Do you wanna see my pad?” she asks, rhetorically. But I use her question to my advantage. “Yeah, let me see it.” I say. “Oh my God,” she says; still grinning. “Okay, look.”

She stands up, unzips her jeans, wiggles them down to her thighs, lifts her shirt with one hand and pushes the front of her panties down with the other; showing me the white tip of what I assume is a pad sticking up from underneath.

“See? I told you.”

Now, I am a freak, yes, and I do want some pussy tonight, but… I can’t deal with that. Blood is a major turn-off for me, and her face isn’t pretty enough to counter that fact.

My eyes go back down and stop at her stomach, which turns me on as she continues to hold her shirt up.

Her stomach sticks out a little and it’s covered in thin hairs, which gets thicker as it goes down to where her pussy is. But I like it. I also like the fact that her nails aren’t done-up. I hate fake nails, but hers are real; stubby and unpolished; just the way I like them.

I hope her toenails are the same as I look down at her socks, which I can only see the toes of because her jeans are bundled down at her ankles.

“You wanna fuck me while I’m on my period,” she asks, with raised eyebrows, as if she’d be willing. I smile while trying to think-up a reply. “Okay,” she says, as she steps out of her pants and kicks them off to the side. All she’s wearing now is a shirt, panties and socks.

“Take off those socks,” I say, and, without question, she takes them off.

She’s not wearing toenail polish, which is just splendid. I hate nail polish. And I’d love to put her toes in my mouth. But when she was taking off her socks, I could see she had dirt on the bottom of her feet, as if she’d been walking around the house barefoot when I called her to come over, and I don’t lick dirty feet. Ugh, no. That’ll be like licking the floor.

It’s not until her panties hit the floor that I start to realize what I’ve just gotten myself into. She tosses her shirt onto the arm of the couch, so, at this point, she’s wearing nothing; not even the pad, which I thought would be stuck to her pussy like a Band-Aid. But it’s gone. I also thought I’d see a trail of blood dripping down by now, but I don’t see any. It’s almost as if she was faking it. But even though that hairy pussy does look good enough to eat from the outside, I don’t want to take my chances opening it up.

“Do you got a towel or something we can put down,” she says. “I don’t want to get any blood on your couch.”

It’s not my couch, or my place, but just hearing her say the word “blood” is enough to prevent my dick from jumping over my waistband.

“This is his place and I don’t know where he keep he towels,” I say; still sitting; as if that weak excuse is reason enough to make me change my mind about having period sex.

She just stands there; naked from head to toe; looking down at me with a blank stare.

“You ever had it in the ass?”

“No, no,” she says; not to answer the question I just asked her but to let me know not to even bother asking the one I was about to ask her. “Hell naw, we’re not doing that.”

I would ask why not, but I don’t want to press the issue. Besides, she’s not smiling anymore. So, in order to see those teeth and gums again, I offer-up another “hmm” with a perplexed expression on my face… to no avail.

“Well, I don’t wanna mess-up his couch,” I say, almost defiantly.

I can tell by the look on her face what she’s probably thinking. “Just go find a fucking towel.” But, while I imagine a clean one wouldn’t be hard to find, I’m not getting up. I’m not about to fuck a girl on her period. And I’m certainly not putting my tongue in it. I’d be more than happy to let her suck my dick though.

“Okay, so,” she says with raised eyebrows and a little attitude, as if it’s a complete thought. But I don’t have much to say in response. I mean, I’d like to get my dick sucked. But this doesn’t seem like the moment to bring it up. I need a smoother transition. So I just look at her.

“Forget it then,” she says, seeming more offended than disappointed. I think she thought I’d still want to fuck her on her period. Others guys probably have and didn’t think much of it. They were just happy to be getting some. But blood is a major turn-off for me. Sorry.

She reaches for her panties… with the bloody pad stuck in the crotch.

“I mean, it’s not like that,” I say; “I just…”

But she doesn’t respond. She just continues getting dressed, then flops down; not right beside me, but on the other end of the couch. Yeah, she’s definitely pissed. But that’s just metaphorical. The blood is real. I just saw it with my own eyes.

Several seconds go by without her saying anything to me or me saying anything to her. Yes, the awkward silence returns; only to be broken by the unmistakable sound of two people having sex in the bedroom. But this time she doesn’t laugh.

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