She’s lush. Gorgeous. Round. She’s got the type of body built for having children, and I’ve sampled the sweetness between her legs and sipped at those big breasts multiple times now. I’d love to get her pregnant, and then keep her pregnant for as long as she’s willing because she’d be a perfect mother. But is that what Addy wants? I’m getting ahead of myself. We just started dating, and I’ve already got her in my crosshairs.
My car pulls up in front of Addy’s apartment building, and the curvy girl’s already standing outside looking as beautiful as ever. She’s dressing sexier now, and I love it. The red dress hugs her curves, and she has strappy red heels and a red purse to match.
I jump out of the car to press a kiss to her cheek, inhaling her floral scent.
“You look great,” I murmur. “Ready to go?”
“Thanks,” Addy says with a faint blush on her cheeks. “Yes, definitely.”
We both slide into the car, and the sedan pulls back into traffic, headed to a fancy Italian restaurant. The curvy girl settles against my side, and I marvel at this affectionate girl. When I was with Marissa, we sat on opposite sides of the car, not touching if possible. She was always afraid I’d ruin her hair, make-up, or clothes, and by the end, I didn’t want to touch her. She was like a statue, and just as cold and forbidding.
When we arrive at the restaurant, Addy and I are immediately seated in a private booth in the back. It’s luxe with red leather seats, low lighting, and a white tablecloth.
“Can I start you with anything to drink?” the waiter asks while bowing slightly. I nod.
“A cab please. Your best bottle.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”
Addy looks around, breathing in the luxury.
“This is amazing, Marcus. You spoil me.”
“I love spoiling you, sweetheart. You deserve it.”
She giggles a bit.
“I love being spoiled too. Thank you.”
At that moment, the waiter returns with our wine and we order from the menu. I go with the chicken parm, of course, and Addy goes for the eggplant parm. Despite its luxe décor, this restaurant is known for its parm dishes, so they’re both great choices.
“So tell me, how was your week, sweetheart?” I ask while we eat. “I’ve hardly seen you.”
It makes sense because Addy and I have been keeping our relationship on the downlow. We don’t want our co-workers to know, and as a result, act completely professional when we’re at the House of Steele. She smiles gently.
“Busy,” she says. “But absolutely amazing. Things are flowing seamlessly.”
I nod.
“They are because you’ve been an amazing creative director, honey. People really respect your opinion, and they see how you lead by example, and want to work for you as a result. But you saw your parents on Tuesday, too, right?”
She blushes and nods.
“Thank you, Marcus, and yes, I did. Actually, I only saw my mom because my dad was too busy. We had dinner since we missed out on our last lunch plans.”
I laugh. That was my fault. Addy was supposed to meet her mom the weekend we first got together, but I wouldn’t let her out of bed. I literally begged the curvy girl to cancel so that I could continue enjoying her lushness, and she relented after I put my mouth on her pussy and wouldn’t let up.
“How was dinner?” I ask, smiling.
“It was great. Pam asked me a thousand questions about you,” she adds, rolling her eyes. “I told her that I’m dating someone, but I didn’t mention that you’re my boss. She’d probably totally freak out.”
I grin.
“It’s probably for the best. But you know, I’d love to meet your mom someday soon.”
Addy smiles at me, so happy.
“You will. Pam’s out and about a lot because she adores NYC. I swear, my mom’s going to be one of those old people who goes to Broadway shows two to three times a week.”
I chuckle because her family sounds cute. We continue to chat until the food comes and it’s great. I love this about the curvy girl: her intelligence, curiosity and overall lust for being alive are just as important as her incredible willingness to explore and give herself to me in bed. In fact, she’s the perfect package, and I know it. I’m just disappointed I didn’t get divorced sooner, so that I could be with this woman.
“Tell me a funny story from your childhood,” Addy giggles, eyes bright, as we wait for the check.
I laugh.
“How about this: one time, I was walking down the street with my mom. I refused to wear a belt for some reason, and my jeans were saggy and huge, per the style of the day, that my pants fell down right in front of a busy grocery store. But instead of being embarrassed, my mom and I decided to embrace it. We did a silly dance together as I pulled my pants back up, and pretended it was all part of the routine. Of course, I still refused to wear a belt after.”