The sitter

In the midst of the high sexual tension, I laughed. It was definitely a nervous laugh, but Patrick cracked a smile too. And then he leaned in an kissed me.

It was hot and needy like the other ones, but there was something else about it too. It was deeper, stronger, more animalistic. Patrick was raw and powerful, and him kissing me the way he did made me feel strong too. But I was the one to pull back first.

"I swear to God if somebody interrupts us…" Patrick said with a breathy laugh.

I laughed back and replied, "About your pants…"

"They should be off?" He interrupted.

"Is this the first date? Just wondering." I asked, looking at my bare feet. Suddenly, I felt nervous. And bad. I'd been acting like I wanted it the whole night, and now, I sort of didn't.

I think Patrick got it though, because he said, "Target was definitely one. Little Italy was two, and this is the same night, so this isn't three. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." He said, looking me right in my eyes. I saw his pupils dilate, and I was so close I could see freckles dotted across his face. I didn't know what to say. I know I'm blushing, so I looked down again, but

Patrick removed one of his hands from my hips and pushed my chin up. "For what it's worth, you're really good at dancing." This caused me to laugh.

"Well for what it's worth, you took me on a really good second date." I replied.

"For what it's worth, you have a great rack." Patrick blurted. I blushed, and saw his sweatshirt on the ground, and pulled it on. It went down to almost my knees, and the sleeves were too long, but I instantly felt warm. Plus it smelled like Patrick, a smell I was beginning to like. While I was away from him, I also unplugged my phone, stopping the music. Patrick once again broke the silence.

"I feel like i'm deaf."

I thought about signing to him, to show off more of my linguistic skills, which I actually majored in, but in order to do that, I'd have to dig my hands out of all of the fabric, and that could probably take ten minutes. So, instead I laid down on the couch. Patrick soon followed.

As I leaned on him, I thought about what he must have thought of me. Surely he expected me to put out, and he must have been disappointed. But then again, he's still here for something. I decided to initiate conversation.

"So tomorrow, or today really, aren't I supposed to kick your ass in a NHL game or something?"
Patrick laughed, and replied. "We'll see. But first we should sleep." He was right, I was tired after all of the dancing, and so was he.

"A pre game nap?" I mumbled.

He giggled (GIGGLED!!!) and replied sleeply, "No alarm though." And for the second time, I fell asleep on a couch with Patrick Kane.

***

Waking up on the couch, literally pressed against Patrick Kane was one thing. Waking up on the couch, literally pressed against Patrick Kane and his hard-on was different. I knew if I tried to move, I would end up grinding on him. Although I wasn't shy about it last night, in the morning, it is something different. So I tried not to move.

From the bright, warm light that was going through the window, I judged that it was past ten. So we had technically gotten a normal eight hours of sleep, at least.

As I stayed pressed against Patrick, my face to the cushions, I thought. Mostly about Patrick, and how we were soon to have our third date, which meant it would soon be acceptable to bang him.

Also a lot about his face. Equal parts to his eyes (which I decided were the brightest blue I had seen), To his dimples (which appeared even when he was smirking), and his million dollar smile.

But I also thought about how Molly was coming to visit, about how I hadn't called my mom in a while, about how I had to go to work, and that I needed a hair cut.

My thoughts went back to Patrick when he suddenly scooted closer, cutting off what little space had been between us. He did it again, but this time, it was more of a… hump? Suddenly, I realized what was happening. Patrick fucking Kane dry-humping my ass while he was asleep. He moaned and did it again, and I decided that I had to stop him before he embarrassed himself.

I couldn't get off without pushing him, and I couldn't grind back without doing the same. Yelling at him seemed too harsh. So, very gently, I moved my hand in-between a couch cushion, and found my phone. I turned my sound on, and emailed my self, setting of a notification.

Patrick woke with a start. He probably didn't know where he was. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but I started laughing when Patrick got up and said, "Oh, fuck!" Followed with a jumbled up apology. I just laughed some more, and said, "It's fine. It's morning, you're a guy, and you didn't get anything last night, which I feel awful about. I mean-" Now I was rambling, only to be stopped by Patrick.

"Hey, it's fine. I just…" He trailed off, looking down at his shorts and blushing. When a girl says she's fine, it's usually a red flag. Did it mean the same thing with guys? I hope not. Besides, Patrick was still shirtless, and mormon me vs fun me were about to have a fight.

"Don't let him enter your vagina!" Mormon me screeched. What a bitch.

"I actually agree," Fun me began, shocking me. "At least, not his dick."

Mormon me said nothing, so I went along with Fun me.

"Do you need help?"

I saw Patrick swallow hard. He probably thought I was going to back out again like last night, but this time, I didn't want to not help him, please him.

"We don't have to do anything-" Patrick began, but I interrupted him.

"Do you not want to?"

"Oh," Patrick said, bushing. "I want to. But, like, if you don't, or something-" I had to interrupt again.

"I want to." I said, looking him straight on. His face was red, but he was almost smiling, so I took that as a go ahead with the head.

***

It was junior high style, me on my knees and Patrick's large hands making a makeshift ponytail, close but not completely controlling my movements.
It took me a while to get adjusted to his size (I expected him to be big but holy shit!), but after I found my rhythm, all I could hear was him breathing heavy, and occasionally saying something like, "Oh fuck, Mel." when I used one of my tricks.

I alternated from giving short laps to the tip, to giving deep and long strokes. I felt my throat relax after a bit, allowing me to deep throat him, to which I was rewarded by a "Jesusfuck Mel." I just hummed, drawing a sharp intake from him.

After a while, the grip on my hair tightened, and he began moving my head for me. I could tell that he was close, and he only confirmed it when he literally said, "Fuck Mel, I'm close." I hummed, moving my hand to play with his balls, and looked at his face. His eyes were screwed shut, and he was biting his bottom lip. I felt him flex, and then he suddenly shot three, hot spurts of cum down my throat.

Being the good girl I was, I swallowed and released Patrick from my mouth with a pop.

He sat down on the couch after pulling his boxers on, and I soon followed. Suddenly, Patrick started laughing.

"Best fucking head of my life."

Notes

Sorry it took to long to update, and its short:(