I’ve never looked forward to fucking a woman like I am right now. Not really. It was either convenient or not. Mutually agreeable, or it didn’t happen. I’ve absolutely never planned out an evening like this one. Although, I’ve also never stopped to consider what defines Canadian food. And I’ve spent more than one weekend in Vancouver when I was stationed nearby in Washington years ago.
I have fun watching Rose demand every last ounce from the experience. I intentionally asked for a room on one of the upper floors when I made the reservation. I have plans that are best suited to not having to worry about closing the blinds.
But first I need to get her fed and relaxed. Rose gets more and more excited the higher the elevator rises. It stops for us on the twenty-fifth floor, and Rose practically skips down the hallway. “You sure you’re not jailbait?” I ask her. She just grins in response, her blue eyes sparkling, “Live a little, McBride.”
It takes two tries to get the door open with the keycard, mostly because I can’t quite take my eyes off of her, but I push it open so she can explore first.
“Oh, Aiden!”
I follow to see what exactly has her excited. Hard to tell, really. She’s twirling in the middle of the room, taking it all in. I shake my head and settle her suitcases in the corner. At some point, I need to get my bag out of the truck, but it can wait until after dinner.
“You want to hit the shower now?” I prompt her. Not that I’m impatient or anything.
“No. I want to research our dinner options first so I know what to change into.” She takes the slip of paper from my breast pocket, grabs her phone, and sits down on the bed.
“Absolutely not,” she mutters then clicks some more, makes a scowly face, and keeps clicking then she tosses the paper into the small wastebasket by the bed. She’s starting to look disappointed and my heart sinks. I want her to have nothing but happy memories of this weekend. Somehow it feels like these two days will define our future together. Maybe she feels the same because she peeks up at me, “How far is Thatcher Street?”
“A decent walk but doable if you don’t wear heels.”
“Okay, let’s try this place then. It’s not labeled Canadian, but it is all locally sourced and includes wild foraged food.”
“That actually sounds interesting.” I’ve always been curious about eating wild foods. Never really done anything about it, but I find the concept of eating off the land fascinating.
“Yeah?” Rose smiles with satisfaction.
“Really. Shower?”
“Okay. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were impatient or something.” She gives a sassy grin and goes over to her suitcases. I assess the hotel room for my later plans while I wait. I think it will do nicely. There’s just one giant bed with a suede upholstered headboard and about three times as many pillows as normal people need. And a small kitchenette sits in the corner with a counter at just the right height. There’s the usual two or three armchairs and a dresser with the large TV. The rest of the room is dominated by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that gives a panorama view of the city and ocean beyond. The water is sparkling in the sunlight and the harbor bustles with late Friday afternoon traffic.
Steam is rising from under the bathroom door and I’m having to hold myself back from joining her there. I want to. I’ve missed touching Rose, feeling her cum on my fingers or my tongue. And I’m eager to let my cock in on that action. Plus, I’ve simply missed her.
Then she emerges dressed in a pretty blue sundress and I’m glad I waited. She slips some white sandals on her feet and grabs a small purse, “Ready? I’m starving.”
“Then let’s get you fed.” I can hold off satisfying my own hunger for a couple more hours.