“Oh,” I moaned burying my face into a pillow as I came hard. My hands gripped the sheets as Rocco continued to pound me from behind. His hands moved my hair to the side and his fingers wrapped around my neck for leverage.
Suddenly he stopped and released my neck from his grip.
“I want to come in your mouth,” he said rolling over onto his back. I climbed on top of him and placed my lips on his. We kissed letting our tongues play. I moved back and let my kisses trail down his neck then down his chest.
My tongue drew circles around his nipples and then down his body. My hands ran up and down his legs teasing him. They came close to his erection then moved away. I could feel his body tense every time I came close to his hard dick.
Finally my mouth reached his hardened and aroused member. I opened my mouth and took him deep inside.
“Oh Shit!” he exclaimed.
I slowly stroked him with my mouth while letting my tongue do some of the work. His hand came up to my head and he ran his fingers through my hair. My lips wrapped tightly around his dick sucking and licking as I used my hand to stroke him. I could feel him tighten and I stroked faster anticipating him coming in my mouth.
Just then his cell phone rang.
I jerked my head up stalled by the noise.
“No, don’t stop,” Rocco said. “I’m almost there.”
I tried to ignore the ringing. From across the room but it was getting quite annoying. This has to be the 20th time his phone has rung while we were together tonight.
We started the evening off with a movie and pizza at my place. Half way through the movie we were no longer watching. We began to make out and it was around that time the phone calls began.
Once the ringing stopped, I continued the task of making him come hard. My hand stroked his shaft while my warm moist mouth sucked on the tip. I let my free hand massage his balls that were no longer soft but damn near rock hard.
“I’m coming,” he moaned.
His breathing increased and his thighs tightened bracing for the eruption about to happen.
The phone began to ring.
My head jerked up once again. This time Rocco couldn’t stop himself from coming. He came spilling out onto my hand still gripping him and himself.
“Rocco,” I began. “Someone may have died.”
“Don’t say that,” he said completely out of breath. He sat up on his elbows. “No one has died.”
“You don’t know that.” I slid off the bed putting one hand under the other as to not drip cum and headed for the master bathroom. I washed my hands then prepared a warm time for him to clean himself off.
When I came out of the bathroom, he was standing by my dresser looking at his phone.
“Who’s in such dire need to get in touch with you?” I asked sitting the towel on the table and plopping down on the bed.
He shook his head and sat the phone down.
“No one important,” he said.
His face told a different story. There were frown lines on his face and his brown eyes were dark.
Just Rocco being elusive again, I thought. The last time I tried to get him to open up he has covered himself in a harder shell. He refuses to discuss friends or family at all and if I try to ask any questions about his life or his past he abruptly changes the subject or initiates sex.
This bothers me because my feelings for him have grown since our initial meeting. I want more from this relationship but it seems I’m still just a body and a mouth to him.
“Well, they must have some importance. They’ve been calling all night.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. He walked back over to the bed and slid in beside me.
He rolled me off my stomach and then climbed on top of me. We began to kiss but my heart wasn’t in it. He could sense it right away, stopping to stare at me.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “You’re all stiff and upset now.”
I wondered if I should be honest. I didn’t want to be just his booty-call three times a week. I wanted more. After three months. I deserved to know exactly where we stood.
“What is this Rocco?” I asked.
He raised his brow.
“What is what?” he replied.
“What is this we are doing? What is our relationship?”
He squinted his eyes and his forehead creased.
“You’ve been acting very strange lately,” he observed. “You’ve been questioning me about everything. I thought everything was going great. We were having a good time.”
“I haven’t been ‘questioning’ you. I’ve been trying to get to know you. From the beginning you said I shouldn’t make assumptions about who you are. Well, I don’t want to assume. I want to know. I want to know the man behind the amazing sex.”
He took in a deep breath then exhaled slowly.
“You’re right,” he said. “I did say that, but I feel by now you should know enough about me to know I’m not just some stereotype.”
I moved from underneath him. He rolled off me and I sat up and turned to him.
“No, I don’t know you at all,” I asked. I don’t know your family, where you work, what you do when you aren’t here with me. It’s as if you are trying to purposefully hide something from me. Are you married? Do you have kids? Who’s calling you at 1 o’clock in the morning?”
“Anna, why do you care so much? Our lives have nothing to do with the amazing sex we have. I don’t question you about your life. There is no need for that. Why are you trying to ruin what we have?”
It was confirmed for me at that moment. It was just sex for him and it would probably only be that way. He wanted as little involvement as possible. It hurt to know that after three months I was falling for him and he felt nothing. His words cut deep and I felt heartbroken.
He gazed into my eyes searching for something. It was if he was trying to read my mind. Whatever he saw, he didn’t like because he climbed off the bed, grabbed his clothes from the floor and began to dress.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Why,” I asked though I was pretty sure I already knew why.
“Because I’m not ready for what I see in your eyes. You want something I can’t give you.”
I didn’t want him to go. I wanted him to spend the night. I wanted him to talk to me.
“You don’t have to go. We can talk about it…”
“No. I need to leave and…,” he said approaching me. “I think we need to give each other some space.”
I was stunned by his words.
“You’re breaking up with me?” I asked. I could feel my heart pounding.
“It’s not a break up. We were never together.”
I guess it wasn’t impossible for him to shut me up. I was speechless. I just watched him grab the rest of his things and walked out of the bedroom. I jumped out of the bed in wrapped only in a sheet and followed him down the hall to the front door. He didn’t say a word before he opened the door and walked out.
I locked the door behind him and leaned my body against it. To my shock, tears began to slide down my cheeks.