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Mine (ambiguouscaptain and miu_meowww)

He's weird, nervous, giving my bra back to me. Knowing what I know, about how he spent the last day or so (and deep into last night!), part of me wants to ask him if he had a good time with it haha. But I know right now's not the time...

I turn at the waist, place the bra behind me, into the bag I brought for the picnic. I'm listening to him, nodding, and I turn back to him. I hear what he's saying, and I control myself...I don't want to sound....wrong...

"Oh, sure, I get it..." I start, reaching down to pick up a cube of cheese. My first instinct is to put it on a cracker, hand it to him. But I hear what he just told me....

"...like you were...er...m-mothering me..."
Click to expand...

I feel how nervous that makes him, and it makes my heart skip a beat - but right now is about making him feel comfortable. So I bring the cheese to my own lips, instead of his, taking a nibble as I continue.

"...I understand. I know myself. I know how I can get. I can get to be a bit...too much, for some guys..."

He's nodding at that, eyes downward. He's remembering things, from a year ago, I know he is.

"I can be...clingy, I guess," I say, "I can move a little too fast....take things a little too seriously..."

He takes another drink of wine. Something's up, I can tell.

"But you know it's because I care about you, right?" I continue, wanting to reach out to take his hand but deciding against it. "Like - and, wow, I feel so stupid saying it, right now - I made an appointment for you, at the clinic, where I work..."
 
I freeze, a cracker and thin slice of prosciutto halfway to my mouth. I nearly say something right then and there, but pause, not wanting to get angry with her or upset her. The cracker crunches in my mouth as I appear to be polite, but really I'm just buying myself some thinking time.

She...she made me an appointment? Didn't think to consult me or ask me...I...

But then, my thoughts start to soften, becoming less critical and more sympathetic.

...well...let's face it, my ankle isn't getting any better, and I don't have the means to treat it properly...let's make sure she's 100% fine with this before I accept...

I take another sip of wine before looking up at Kat. "I...I don't know, Kat," I say, my finger absently tracing a design in the sand. "I don't want to impose on you, especially if all I need is to stay off it..."

Now it's my turn to feel silly...I walked half a mile over uneven sand to get to this picnic...stay off my ankle, indeed!
 
"No...it's totally not...totally not a problem," I say, knowing he's a little embarrassed - not being able to get to the doctor himself, problems with his health insurance - "It's a clinic right in my building. With one of the doctors I see, myself, for what's...going on with me..."

He looks up at me and I do a pretty good job of looking demure, tucking my hair behind my ear again, smiling shyly.

"I totally okayed it with my bosses...they sort of insisted on it, actually, knowing how much I like you," I continue, "They said you wouldn't have to pay anything, and the doctor I made the appointment with is really nice. She's a specialist, in hormone stuff, but they said she could run all the x-rays and everything you need to figure out...y'know....what's going on with you..."
 
Gosh, she's being so kind and sweet...should I be worried? She's totally not obsessive at all, it's like she really cares about me and my health...maybe Kat really is changing...

"Well, uh, I guess if it's no big deal," I say, finishing my glass and setting it down, not noticing Kat quickly fill it again. "I think that'd be great, it'll be good to get...checked out..."

As we talk, more and more I'm noticing the dropping temperature, made even worse by the quickening wind coming off the sea shore. I sit there, as Kat tells me about the clinic, the specialist, and I rub my arms lightly, trying to ward off goosebumps, shivering slightly. I pull at my shorts, tugging them down my legs, as if trying to will them into pants.

Ugh, I really messed up here, I might ruin this little beach picnic if I have to leave...it's getting so cold!
 
"Okay so it's settled..." I say, smiling warmly and opening up a little jar of fig preserves he was struggling with, "Thursday, one o'clock, I'll meet you down in the lobby and I'll bring you in to the clinic..."

He nods, shivers at the wind and sips again at his third glass of wine. I know he's chilly but I also know I have to be careful about things and not be too pushy. I ask him if he's cold (I feel fine); he tells me he's okay. He does, though, let me spread a little jam on a slice of bagette. I put a piece of that soft sheep's cheese on it and hand it to him. He's asked a lot of questions, about the doctors and the clinic, and i told him what i could without saying too much. I know he's nervous about it, but I think I've got him convinced...this is the best thing for him. We're talking about it as if it's just his ankle, but really we both know it's more about...well...those two inches he's lost...

He'll get in, they'll figure things out...

...They'll be so happy with me.

I smile, ask him about his day. He asks me about mine. I tell him a joke I memorized that I thought he'd like. He tells me about a movie he wants to see...I don't ask if he'll take me, but maybe he will. He's shivering again and now I have to do something.

His legs are all exposed.

"Here...take these..." I say, shifting on my butt so I can pull my sweatpants off, down my legs, over my bare feet, "I have a little more meat on me than you do..."
 
I laugh nervously, pretending like Kat's kidding about the extra meat on her bones, as if it's something I don't notice too. As I sip from my glass of wine, I watch as the firm, creamy flesh of Kat's thighs come into view. The grey, stretchy material of the sweatpants clings to her skin, as if reluctant to be separated from her.

And...um...is she wearing anything underneath?!?...wait...oh...

Taking a second, third, and fourth look, I finally spy the inky black material of Kat's bikini bottoms, almost completely hidden by the exaggerated curvature of her butt, hips, and thighs, tanned, toned flesh swallowing up the dark fabric. I blink, confused, some sense of chivalry conflicting with a desire to be warm, to feel the warmth still in those bottoms...

"You sure?" I ask Kat, not yet reaching for the pants. "You won't be cold?" She nods and insists, and so I take and pull the pants over my legs, instantly grateful for the warmth. As I hike them up to my waist, I'm conscious of how large they are on me, my legs seeming to be swimming in them, and I have to cinch the waist pretty tight so they don't fall down.
 
I try not to giggle as he's clumsily struggling to get into my pants, to pull them over his shorts as he kinda rolls around on the blanket, and I spend the moment putting together another piece of bread with cheese for him. He's in them, finally, and hopefully he's a little warmer. Funny, it's not really all that chilly out here and I'm always cold.

I smile bashfully and bite my lower lip, not saying anything when I notice him checking out my legs in the candlelight. They are getting soooo muscular it's, like, crazy. As I hand him the piece of bread I make sure I tuck them underneath me just right, off to my right side, my weight on my left hand.

He takes another long drink of wine, his eyes darting between my thighs.
 
As we continue to make small talk, I pop another fig in my mouth, followed by the bread and cheese, washing them both down with more wine. I don't notice Kat giggling at me, seeing me like a child stuffing his mouth with candy. Good food and good wine does have a softening effect on me.

You know...maybe I'm too premature in thinking of cutting this off. Kat really seems to be turning a corner here. This is such a nice, normal date, just the two of us, having a nice conversation with some food and wine...if this keeps up...maybe...maybe she could be the perfect girlfriend. If this is who Kat really is, maybe she really could be...wife-material...

"You know Kat," I say, suddenly feeling the urge to compliment her, to encourage how she is behaving now. "I'm glad we're having such a good date right now." I take another slice of bread with cheese from her, smiling as I take a small bite.

I chew thoughtfully, then say, "I'm going to be honest, yesterday had me worried. It just seemed so much like, well, the old Kat." I blush a bit, uncomfortable with talking about those days. "But right now, right here, this is just wonderful." Another sip, more of a gulp, as I finish my third glass of wine.

I look around us, at the sea, the sand, the pale moonlight, the candles, at Kat. My eyes flit down to her legs again, seeing the line along her thighs, the definition of her quadriceps and calf muscles. "Here I am with you, drop-dead-gorgeous. It's like you are the perfect mix of athlete and model," I say, laughing a bit at my own boldness. "I mean look at those legs, Kat. You could crush a watermelon between them, I bet."

But then I look up, at Kat's beaming, happy face. She's eating this up...maybe...maybe this could lead somewhere fun... "And I dunno about you, but I think anyone looks amazing in candlelight, like their features are softer, warmer...but you," I pause here, pouring myself a fourth glass of Malbec and assembling some prosciutto with cheese. "You seem to take that to a whole other level. You are absolutely gorgeous, Kat."
 
"Oh my goodness, Charlie...stoppppp..." I sing, looking away bashfully as he compliments me, "you're making me blush!" <giggle!>

I note what he says about my legs, how he looks at my thighs and yes I can crush a watermelon with them haha. But stay on course, Kitty Kat...

"Like you said..." I say, brushing some imaginary sand off the bulge of my calf, "everyone looks good in candlelight...." I bite my lower lip again, quiet for a moment. "I think my teeth are too big. Kids used to call me 'horse-mouth' in school..." I say, "My whole mouth in fact is too big. And my eyes are a like big bug eyes..."

My hair's been coming out of its ponytail all night and I brush a few locks up behind my ear, and then look at him coyly. "But, that's nice, thank you for the compliments," I say, "and <giggle>...you don't have to stop..."
 
Gosh look at her...Kat is totally eating this up...keep going Charles, and maybe Kat'll be thanking you with more than words, right?

"Oh stop, Kat," I say, reaching forward to touch her on the leg, just above her knee. Her legs are warm, my hand almost feeling icy by comparison, and they feel so strong; I can feel her muscles flexing, taut, right beneath my hand. I nearly lose track of what I'm saying, but recover after taking another sip of wine.

"Your teeth are perfect, not at all too big for your mouth, and they're almost gleaming, with or without this candlelight." I look from her mouth, smiling, beaming, then up to her eyes. "And your eyes...bug eyes? Bug eyes don't glitter like emeralds, right? Sometimes I get lost looking into them, like you're gazing into my inner-most thoughts."

There's that uneasy feeling again...but, I can't quit now, right? Keep going and maybe we'll see what's under those bikini-bottoms, or that hoodie...

"And gosh, your hair," I say, almost reaching up to feel it, to run it between my fingers. "You've been tucking it behind your ears all night, falling from your ponytail. But that just goes to show you how thick and healthy and radiant it is." I finish my glass, feeling buzzed and confident and bold. "It's like your hair has a mind of its own!"

I bite into a fig wrapped in prosciutto, feeling like this date is going well, feeling in control, feeling...cold. I shudder a bit as an involuntary shiver quivers its way through my body.
 
"Ooooo you know how to make a girl just melt, don't you Charlie Hogan?" I purr, unable to stop my eyes from flashing as they look into his. I know what he's trying to do, he's trying to get me to make a move. He's a passive guy, I know that, he expects me to be the aggressor....and I need to show him something different, for right now, if I'm going to keep him. But my heart is racing, hearing him talk like this; it's making me go totally mad inside and I want to...

...shhhh.

I place my hand over his, where it rests on my right thigh.

"Warm, huh?" I ask, looking down, my hand covering his. His eyes fall too and now he's looking at my legs again.

"Oh, sorry," I smile, "I know I said no hands..."
 
"Oh, uh, no," I say, blushing slightly. "It feels good, I don't know why, but my hands are feeling colder than they usually do." I laugh nervously, not knowing where to look other than at her eyes or her thighs.

"And really..." My eyes look back down at her muscular legs, the acres of tanned skin, smooth grooves of toned muscle. "...I'm the one that touched you first. Your skin is soooo smooth, like velvety soft...and yet I love how you spend time at the gym...so much strength, too..."

I continue to hold my hand on her thigh, feeling the warmth from Kat seep into my own chilly hands. Shivering again, I realize I've been just staring at her legs and caressing her thigh for a solid minute without saying a word, and awkwardly jerk my hand away, tucking both under my arms, quivering slightly in the cold.
 
Inside I swell with pride as he looks at me, as I watch him look at my legs and talk about them, kind of adoringly. He is passive, I know that, and I'm starting to see his - what's the right term? -submissive streak? He likes seeing my muscles, he likes...bigness. He likes, I think, how my new size makes him feel...

...but I don't want to scare him. He's got his pride. He needs me to take this exactly how I'm taking it tonight, so far...

So I just let him touch me, I let him hold his hand - tentatively - on my thigh. He seems fascinated by it, but then he suddenly gets nervous, and pulls his hand away.

He's shivering again, cold.

I smile at him.

"You know how they could really keep you warm?" I ask, innocently, leaning back and spreading my hands invitingly, "If you rest your head down on them..."
 
Inwardly, I struggle with what Kat is telling me, fighting the cold, fighting wanting to touch her, wanting to keep showering with compliments, hoping that she'll want to do more than just talk on the blanket...

I know we said no touching, that we'd take it slow...I'm feeling so cold though, and it would be nice to snuggle up...she's been so...normal...this whole evening...nothing wrong with just cuddling, right? Cuddling doesn't have to lead anywhere...but I kind of want it to lead somewhere...

After a moment of hesitation, I scootch myself forward on the blanket, being careful not to kick sand on the food, or to knock over any glasses of wine. Soon I'm next to Kat, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from her body, and not just her legs, but her arms and face and chest and everything...

I curl up and lie down, almost tucked in the crook of her leg, my head resting on the soft, smooth surface of her thigh, feeling tiny tremors and flexes as Kat adjusts herself, sitting more comfortably to support my weight.

"Thanks Kat," I say, feeling suddenly warmer, as if I were plugged in to her own source of body heat. "Just feeling...colder than usual...didn't really dress properly for the weather..."
 
"Mmmm, that's okay, honey..." I purr, insides swelling again with pride as he lays his head in my lap, lays his body out to the left aside me, "I'll keep you warm..." Stopping short of starting to pet his head, I just brush some hair off his forehead.

I let him lay there, like this, smiling down on him and letting him get relaxed. He's looking upwards, at the darkening night sky, the stars as they're just starting to appear...avoiding my eyes but that's okay. I reach over, to my right and pick up a small bunch of green grapes.

"These are really great..." I say, holding them over his face, "Want one?"
 
I take a moment to just enjoy the emerging stars, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach with gentle <shushes>, the comfort and warmth of Kat's lap, looking up at her beautiful face, the swells of her generous breasts within the hoodie.

Then I nod, "Yeah, those look delicious." I say, reaching for the bunch.
 
"Here, let me..." I offer, gently taking his reaching right hand with my left and laying it down, across his middle, while my right hand lowers the bunch of grapes to his mouth.
 
I pause for a moment, mouth opened a bit in surprise, then relax, letting Kat lower the grapes to my mouth. It's a bit of a clumsy way to eat them, but Kat seems to be skilled at delivering the grapes to my waiting mouth, lowering the fruit one by one. Of course, she doesn't miss the chance to eat a few herself before turning back to me.

I giggle a bit as I watch Kat eat four grapes in rapid succession. "I feel like a Roman emperor," I joke, reclining back further into Kat's lap. "And you're my emperess."

Kat just smiles as she chews on the grapes, then lowers the bunch back down, letting me take a couple.

I guess it shouldn't surprise me that I'm eating or hungry, but weird that I didn't notice my hunger the past 36 hours or so until I was back with Kat... I chew thoughtfully for a bit, relaxed by the salty scent of the sea, the soft sand under my legs, the comfort of snuggling with Kat.
 
He's relaxed, I can tell. I've got him here, to this point, acting like this. So sweet, so unassertive, so accommodating and dutiful. This is what he wants, I know, in real life, and I'm glad I can show him I can do it.

But there are other things he wants....I know that...

I let him <pop> <pop> <pop> a few more grapes, from the bunch, with his lips. I giggle at his little joke as he chews. "You are my emperor, you know that..." I tell him, "I'll do anything for you..."

<pop>

He chews, and I put the grapes down. I reach for his wine glass with my left hand, having to lean forward over him a little bit.

"Here, my king, drink..." I say, as I raise my right knee just a bit and use my right hand to raise his head, so he can take a drink of wine. He opens, and I pour...

...his eyes bug out a little. "Whoopsie!" I giggle, a little spilling down his lips and chin, "Too much?"
 
I cough and splutter a bit, trying to clear the wine that went down my lungs. "N-keff-keff-keff," I say, turning bright red from the effort. "...<gasp>...I mean...no K-<cough>-Kat, it's fine." I clear my throat some more, cough a few more times.

Well, that joke came back to bite me...but...I wasn't lying...it wasn't too much wine...it was...gosh...feeling Kat's breasts pressing against the top of my head...so surprisingly big and heavy and soft...

I finally catch my breath, only a few weak coughs interrupting my breathing and speech. "I guess that's what I <cough> get for demanding to be treated like Caesar, <cough>!"
 
"Caesar..?" I ask, a little indifferent and offhandedly, as I help him settle his head back down to my lap and bring the glass to his lips again, "Who's that..?" This time, with the wine, I'm more measured: "Little sips, mister king-man," I cluck, and he drinks once, twice, a third time, "gooooood....that's better..."

I put his wine down, setting it firmly in the sand to my right, and turn my attention back to him. Again I brush a few hairs off his forehead, and peer down at him proudly. He's got his eyes closed now - not looking like he's ready to sleep, just looking really...peaceful.

The candlelight plays off the sand around us, dancing in the little bit of breeze there is. The air actually feels really nice and I take the moment to undo my ponytail, let my hair fall free. I look down at him again and smile.

"So, Charlie," I ask, watching his thin chest rise and fall with even breaths, "do you mind if I ask you a question?"

He doesn't open his eyes, but his mouth turns in a funny little way, like he's considering. Then he shrugs, in my lap, with a little peaceful smile.

I brush another lock of hair away from his face, and tuck mine behind my ear.

"This weekend, when we were out shopping together..." i begin, voice calm and measured, "were you...embarrassed to be seen with me?"
 
I'm so relaxed, my head nestled in Kat's lap, my body leaning against her legs, feeling the flexes and trembles of her muscular thighs beneath me as she shifts slightly. Nothing could disturb me, not the cold, not the sudden tipsy feeling. It doesn't even bother me that she doesn't know who Caesar was.

Ever had a salad named after him, Kat?

But then she asks a question, one that sets my stomach sinking, my body tenses up, and my eyes shoot open, eyebrows scrunching with sudden contemplation and thought.

Gotta be careful here...can't piss her off, I've been buttering her up all evening...but I shouldn't lie either...

"No...uh...no Kat," I say, kicking myself for the 'uh'. "I was more...frustrated with being a burden to you, with my ankle and all."

I should stop there, but I don't, of course I don't. Sticking my foot in my mouth, I continue, "And then all these people were looking at me, at us, and I don't blame you for that...people can't help but notice a beautiful woman..."

That's it, Charlie-boy...turn it around into a compliment!
 
He says I'm beautiful, but I know what he means...

"You mean it's more like they can't help but notice the big legs and huge pair of tits pushing around the guy in the wheelchair?" I calmly say, reaching over him to pick up a piece of cheese for him.

"You think we make a funny looking couple, that's okay, I get that," I continue, lowering the little cube of cheddar into his mouth, "I mean, I want you to be proud of me when we're out together, but I'm okay that you're not...that it makes you self-conscious..."

I feel him tensed up below me, starting to say something, and I'm doing my best to sound calm and supportive and understanding. "Shhh...I understand, it's okay," I hush, "Tell me, Charlie, honestly...i'm not the kind of girl you really picture yourself with, am I?"
 
"Uh...I," I say, nervous about how quickly Kat's blew through my smokescreen and put her finger on the real issue. "I mean, m-maybe it looks a little strange, such a tall, curvaceous girl with a shorter, scrawny m-man..."

I chew on the piece of cheese that Kat hands to me, then, "But I'm...p-proud...who wouldn't w-want to have someone like y-you?"

Even as I say that, I can't help but pick apart Kat, just how dense she is, how materialistic, just so simple, yet with a loud, out-spoken personality. It's a dangerous combination, drawing attention to her, but also using that attention to humiliate me, to seduce me, to bring me to my knees with arousal.

"I...I suppose you're different than...m-my usual expectations..." I say, still wary of traveling down this path.
 
“Hey, it's okay," I reassure him, picking up his wine glass again, "you don't have to say things just to be nice...another sip?"

Picking his head up a little from my lap, he nods. I hold his head with my right hand and help him take a long drink of red wine.

"I understand, I know...being in public with me makes you feel awkward, like people are looking at you, judging you..." I say, feeding him more wine, "...you think they're imagining what sort of things we do together..."

He is definitely more tense, and I can feel his heart beating faster through my thighs.

"And I know you're not into this for my brains or my personality,” I say, putting his wine glass back down again, "It's my body, I accept that..."
 
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