She kicks hers off and away while I’m still trying to get my shoes off, and she flips over, giving me a decadent view of her ass. With my pants around my ankles, I lean forward and grip that ass with both hands. Our relationship is so new and we mostly fall into bed together at the end of a long, exhausting day for both of us that I haven’t had time to really explore her body as thoroughly as I’d like.
She’s stretched out across the bed, reaching for something, but all I care about is the beautiful lines and curves and dips of her body. The round swell of her ass in my hands. The way she has one leg bent up under her for leverage, exposing the sweet petals of her pussy to my gaze. The flare of her hips, the nip of her waist, the long, curved column of her torso as she reaches with one arm.
When I pull her cheeks apart, she lets out a little squawk and brings her arms back down, trying to twist around, but my hands hold her in place. I lower myself to my knees, still holding her open for me, and lick her pussy from behind.
She gasps as my tongue spears inside her opening. “You taste so good,” I murmur against her pussy, and she shivers against my mouth. “I really could eat you all night.”
“But I want you inside me,” she whimpers, her toes curling against my chest as I circle her clit with my tongue before driving it back inside her.
Something scrapes against the comforter, and I glance up to see her handing me a condom. Ah, so that’s what she was getting. Makes sense. And if I’d been less singularly focused on her nakedness, I might’ve realized it immediately.
As it is, she short-circuits my brain in all the best ways.
“Please,” she gasps when I lick her again. “Please fuck me now.”
And just like always, I can’t deny her when she asks so politely. The juxtaposition of the prim and polite please with the filthy words that follow gets me so hot every time that I feel like a mindless animal needing to unleash my lust on her.
Good thing that seems to be her goal too.
Standing, I finally extract my feet from my pants, grab the condom packet from her fingers, rip it open and roll on the protection. Then I hook my fingers under her hips and pull her up on her knees before climbing on the bed behind her. I run one hand up and down the curve of her spine while I use the other to rub my cock over her juicy slit. “You ready?” I ask, my voice barely more than a guttural rasp.
She nods and gives me a breathy, “Yes.”
And with one firm thrust, I’m as deep inside her as I can get.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, and I have to agree with the sentiment. This is as close to a holy experience as I think I’ll ever get.
Stroking every inch of her skin I can reach, I begin to move. Slow, tiny movements at first. I’m enjoying this—her—too much to let it end too quickly. If I could drag this moment out forever, I would. Everything about this is perfect. She’s perfect. And I’m so glad that our relationship is out in the open. That I don’t have to worry about whether I can touch her or kiss her in front of the others. That she’s not ashamed of me, and she knows I’m not ashamed of her.
I’ve had enough shame heaped on me as a kid to last several lifetimes. I vowed not to keep my life or my feelings a secret when I left home at eighteen. I might’ve reconsidered, might’ve been willing to keep us a secret if that’s what she wanted, but I think it would’ve tainted my soul like a poison and eventually ruined this thing growing between us.
Instead I get to touch her. Run my hands all over her body in private, and sit with her in my lap in public, and no one can do anything about it.
Sure, Aaron and Blaire have both warned me not to hurt her. But that’s because of my history, what they assume about her, and ultimately the fact that they care about her.
I can handle the protective instincts of my friends.
She moans as I lengthen my strokes, my pace picking up despite my best intentions. I always have good intentions, but all too often reality doesn’t quite match up.
At least this time we’ll both go down in a blaze of blinding orgasms.
Leaning over so my chest is flush with her back, I plant one hand on the bed to hold me up. My other hand still roams freely, plucking and twisting her nipples till her breath turns ragged then sliding down over her belly till I can tease her pussy with my fingertips.
Parting my fingers, I rub them over her, spreading her wide, sliding against my cock as it pumps in and out of her welcoming heat. Matching my leisurely pace, I circle her clit lightly, grazing more than rubbing, and her pussy tightens around me.
“Yeah,” I mutter into her shoulder. “You like that, don’t you? You like it when I fuck you deep and slow and rub your hard little clit until you come.”
“Yesssss,” she hisses out.
I love that she answers me when I talk dirty to her. That she treats my questions like they’re serious and not just filthy rhetorical questions during sex, even ones like this one that I’ve asked several times before.
My hips move faster, my fingers still keeping pace, and her pussy flutters around me again as she drops her head and moans.
The thread of my control is fraying quickly.
