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from the torrid sex.
    “Hold me and make this perfect,” I told him. Jack climbed from me and gathered me into his arms. He reached down and undid the clasps holding one stocking and then bent my leg and pushed off my high heel. Then Jack tugged off my stocking and turned me over to face him.
    “What are you doing?” I asked curiously. He didn’t answer but instead balled up the stocking and cleaned his orgasm from my face. I giggled and let him gently swab his amazing mess from my cheeks, then my neck and finally my breasts. When he was done, Jack kissed me and moved to toss the stocking away. I stopped him, took it and put it to my lips. As he watched, I sucked his glorious treat from my stocking.
    “That’s sexy, just like you,” he told me. I finished, getting what I could from the stocking, and then tossed it aside.
    “Why do I want to be so naughty with you? I’m a good girl,” I asked him wondering if he knew why he held such power over me.
    “No, you’re a bad girl. All I did was give you an excuse,” he said. I looked back on the evening and I could hardly believe what I’d done. I wasn’t like this but maybe he was right. Maybe I was a bad girl and I just hadn’t found the right guy to bring it out of me. Maybe all I needed was an excuse. Whatever. I was swimming in a sea of bliss and the hows and whys just didn’t matter right then.
    “You’re staying, right?” I asked.
    “You bet your fat ass I am,” he told me. I giggled. I liked it when he said that though I wasn’t completely sure why. Shouldn’t a man calling my ass fat have been some sort of insult? In the moment, it was perfect though. He liked me for what I was and that felt nice. However, the light of day would surely change how I felt. Jack and I were different people and I knew nothing about him. But right then, I luxuriated in the aftermath of our dirty sex and reality was held at bay. If only we could have stopped time and stayed there forever.
    >>O<<
    I woke the next morning and found myself alone in my bed. However, I smelled what I was sure was French toast. I climbed out of bed and discovered I was still wearing one stocking. I guess I didn’t take it off before we climbed under the covers and fell asleep but the shoe was missing. I remembered what we did with the other stocking and the memory brought back the entirety of the previous night. My Lord, what had gotten into me?
    I slipped the remaining stocking off and after looking about the room, tossed it on the floor with the rest of the clothes lying about. I dug a sleep shirt out of my dresser, suddenly feeling modest, and went out to see what Jack was doing in the kitchen. I found him in front of the range naked and making breakfast. The scene was a bit surreal. I had no doubt last night happened, but seeing the tattooed biker standing naked in my kitchen brought it all home.
    “Morning,” I said. Jack turned and it was only then I noticed what he was wearing. I couldn’t help but laugh at him standing there in a frilly pink apron.
    “Hey, it was this or risk getting burned,” he said.
    “We wouldn’t want that but most of your clothes are right there,” I said pointing at the pile by the front door.
    “I’m comfortable with my sexuality,” he told me and I laughed again but the carefree feeling of the previous night had disappeared as I slept.
    “Have a seat. It’ll be a minute. I made coffee. How do you like it?” Jack offered. Well now. I suppose I could get used to this if it wasn’t for the feelings brewing inside of me.
    “Um, there’s vanilla creamer in the fridge. Not too much,” I told him. Jack abandoned the French toast and made me a cup of coffee. He brought it to me and I thanked him. This was kind of nice. I’d never had a guy make breakfast and coffee before. I’d never had a guy satisfy me like Jack had the night before either. Too bad he wasn’t my type. I