Wetness flowed from her center and dampened her panties, and she opened her legs farther in invitation. Brian’s sensual kisses travelled a downward journey to her neck, a flurry landing on the pulse point behind her jaw. Nipples peaking and clit throbbing, she punched up her hips.
“Are you ready?” he murmured into her tingly skin, taking his oral attentions to her collarbone.
“Yes.” She tugged the elastic hem of his boxers. A glimpse at the pattern on the fabric made her smile. Tiny Christmas trees dotted festive red cotton. The out-of-season underwear endeared her to Brian. They demystified him and represented his lack of pretention, rendering him accessible, human, real. “I’m so ready. Fuck me.”
“Not before I taste how ready you are.” His exploring hands pressed her breasts together, and he lapped and nipped each large swell. He sucked one pebbled tip, grazing her sensitive bead with gentle teeth. “Perfect.”
She gasped, moaned, a tingle shooting from her chest to the hard bud between her legs. Brian took his lips to her opposite breast and licked the underside of her nipple, rubbing the other between a wetted thumb and forefinger. Her sex lit up, pounding, need growing to a near-painful burn.
Running her fingers through his hair, she stretched her legs wider. Just a brush of contact to her clit and she’d come, he’d worked her up so much.
“I love your beautiful body.” Brian kissed her belly button, her hip bone as he made his way down. “I want to kiss each and every one of these precious freckles.”
He kissed several of the small birthmarks dotting her body. She’d always been mildly self-conscious of them, as they evidenced a few summers’ careless sunscreen lapses, but in the present moment she felt gorgeous. Inside and out.
“You’re so good at this.” Helen’s throat tensed. “This” meant more than sex and, as much as she’d tried to kick her denial into overdrive, she knew the act wasn’t just about fun. He was caring for her.
She willed herself to stay in her body and focus on the pleasure Brian gave her. Pleasure was okay, beauty and tenderness and caring were not. She couldn’t fall for him. They could enjoy each other, sure, but nothing more serious. Because the truth was as stark and clear as an exit sign. Brian’s life hung in the balance, and she was to blame.
If she fell for him, she would lose him. Such was Helen’s fate, and if history was any indication, the grim decree had been prophesized.
“Are you still good to go, sweetheart?” His voice was rough now, raspy.
She could tell he was horny, impatient to slide his hard cock somewhere wet and stroke until he came. But he wouldn’t do that unless he could rest assured that she was with him all of the way.
Why did Brian have to be so special? A lousy lay in the form of an arrogant, famous jerk making love to his own ego she could have detached from with no effort.
“I want you to keep going.” She treated his neck to a little massage. “I haven’t had sex in awhile is all. I suppose I got a little overwhelmed. But I want to, Brian, with you.”
“I still get nervous sometimes, too.” He took his hands from her chest and held hers for a moment, squeezed, and resumed his kisses.
She smiled at the thick hair on top of his head, not buying the claim for a single second. Everything about his approach so far was practiced, experienced, in control. Methodical, yet spontaneous. Suited him perfectly.
“If you say so,” she said.
“Just relax and let me make you feel good, if you’re sure.” He glanced up to her.
“I’m sure.” She was. And for the time being, despite how fleeting and illusory and sex-clouded the feeling might be, Helen lost herself to the scary-amazing emotion running through her.
The goodness might vanish when they parted ways in the Denver airport. Or get snatched away the second she got used to it, like all of those foster families did. But for now, she treasured something mysterious and precious. The word started with an L and she was not permitted to feel the stirrings anymore. Never again, and for sure not now.
Brian nuzzled her pelvis, filling his palms with the roundness of her hips. “Bet you turn heads so hard they whiplash.”
With her ginormous boobs, round hips, and big ass, Helen affectionately thought of herself as an hourglass with a little extra sand, though at times she longed for a perfect beanpole yoga body like Lisa’s. Now, though, under Brian’s hands and mouth, she unequivocally loved her goddess curves.
Okay, okay, maybe she could feel the banned L-word about herself.
Brian took her panties down in a single firm tug, Helen assisting with hip wiggles. He found her swollen center, the work of his lips drawing a moan from her. He kissed her lower lips like he’d kissed her mouth, romantically. His nose brushed the neatly groomed hair above her seam. He kept the kiss up, languid and unhurried.
His tongue darted out, fast and surprising. Helen gasped and bucked off the bed, surged by a jolt of pleasure.
“You want me to lick you?” Brian grabbed her bottom and held on, the frank question a dirty, thrilling preview.
“Yes times a million.” Her clit was so tender the spot hurt. Her bent knees shook. This wouldn’t take but a minute.
He got to work, lapping her stiff, bulging bud with firm ministrations. Medium pressure, steady pace, long strokes up and down. He found her nub’s underside, the hot spot, and massaged with his perfect and dedicated tongue. A handful of licks, and the buildup pulled in her lower abdomen. She panted, pressure focusing to a beam of tension.
“I’m close.” Her tense voice mirrored the ratcheting
