Eating Breakfast In Glass Slippers - Sex Stories

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Eating Breakfast In Glass Slippers

Date: 11/8/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: TheScheherezadeFeint, Rating: 26, Source: LushStories

says tentatively “Can I ask you something?” “Um... sure, I guess.” “The hell are you walking in?” he chuckles at my gait. “Shut up.” I tell him. “Okay... Do you want to sit? “Yeah, actually. That would be great,” I tell him, looking around. “There's a good spot up around this next bend,” he smiles. “Alright...” I follow him a few more yards. A massive fallen tree is well grounded over the river, past the bend where it drops. Must be six feet wide at the base, and anyone on the tree would be above a deep pool, and have a clear view of the waterfall. “That is a good spot,” I say, with some quiet applause in my head. “Yeah, she fell about two years back. One of my favorite places then, and now.” “It's hard to notice there's no one else so old nearby,” I say, stepping tentatively onto it. “It is,” he says, following me, “My granddaddy clear-cut the whole area fifty years ago.” “With no offense to your family,” I tell him, “What an asshole.” “None taken,” Luke says, finishing his beer, crushing his can instinctively and setting it down beside us as we sit. As I attempt to do the same and succeed only marginally, conversation halts for a moment while I awkwardly crumple downward. The soft mossy bed beneath me is actually very comfortable. Comforting, even. Bright green, with flowers poking through it in places. “So,” he says, “If you don't mind my askin', who brought you to this little shindig?” “Not sure exactly. Might be crashing,” I tell him. “Uh-oh.” “I'm here with Jasmine and ... Ursula.” “Alright then. No problem,” he says, looking a bit intimidated. “Jas, or Ursula?” I don't have to wait for a response, and we speak together, “Ursula.” “What is it with her?” I ask him. “You tell me. She's your friend.” “Well, technically she's my god-mother, but I think she was about ten when I was born.” “That's weird,” he says. “Tell me about it. Really everything about her is weird.” “I remember.” “And don't even get me started on her girlfriend.” “Girlfriend?” Luke exclaims, “Damn! So, Ursula's not drivin' stick anymore...” “Classy, bro,” I mock. “Whatever,” he ignores me, “If you knew her like I did,” “So, you know her pretty well?” “Used to,” he says, “We grew up together.” “Really? Tell me some stories?” “Can I ask you something first?” “Sure, I guess,” I tell him, pretty sure what's next. “You seem...” “Sad?” “Well, yeah,” he says. “I bet. Look, I don't really want to talk about it. Right now, I want to have a good night. I want to party, maybe drink some more..” “Alright,” he says, a obviously a little disappointed. “I know I'm being all mysterious. If it makes you feel any better, I might also want to get a little laid,” I redirect the attention where I want it, purposely leaving off the word 'again' from the end of my sentence. “Subtle,” he says. “Hey, I was supposed to be boarding a plane to leave for my honeymoon,” I grab his arm to look at the beat-up wristwatch it bears, “Eight minutes ago. What do you know?” “Damn.” “Uh-huh. Subtle isn't exactly my ...