Personal Adventures

by Sidney Bristol

  Elise reached for his cock but he grabbed her wrist first.

  “Not this time,” he growled around the condom foil. He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it down his cock.

  Her brain short-circuited somewhere between his mouth and his cock. In the back of her mind she knew she should do something. This was her chance to touch him wherever she wanted, but all she did was watch.

  He grasped his cock. Her pussy clenched, empty and wanting.

  “Damn, you can’t keep looking at me like that.” He chuckled, his voice dropping to a new, deep timbre.

  Licking her lips, she met his half-lidded gaze. He curled one arm under his head while touching and stroking his stiff cock with the other. The muscles in his arm danced and his damn tattoo teased her. She’d fantasized about licking it once, following the silhouette of mountains that banded his right biceps.

  She had to say something. Flicking her gaze back to his hand, she went for something she wouldn’t normally have the courage to say to a new partner. “Would it feel better if I did that for you?”

  Carey grinned and his hand stopped its exercise. “It would feel better inside your pussy.”

  She tilted her head to the side as if she were thinking about it. Truth was, thought had gone out the window.

  She flattened her hands against his thighs and slid them up to his hips, leaning forward. Here was a veritable buffet of a man, who lusted after her, who had stated in no uncertain terms that he wanted her, and yet she hesitated. She wasn’t sexy like her roommates. She didn’t have the body of a god, like Carey. She was lean, with small breasts and wide, childbearing hips.

  He uncoiled his arm from behind his head, wrapped it around her neck and dragged her to his mouth. The action drove home how strong he was, but it was Carey. She trusted him. Their lips met in a hard kiss, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. He held her there, with one hand at her hip and the other burrowed into her hair. She might be on top, but he was completely in command.

  Slowly everything faded away. The room, her insecurities, tomorrow, everything except being in the moment became unimportant compared to clinging to his shoulders and meeting his kiss.

  Her lungs ached, denied of adequate oxygen. She tore her mouth from his and gasped. He allowed her to pull back only a fraction of an inch.

  Carey thrust his hips up, his erection stiff against her abdomen. “Ride me.” His voice was rougher than she’d ever heard. Almost savage sounding. “Hike up your dress and ride me before I bend you over the coffee table.”

  She shuddered, not surprised that the idea appealed to her. She wasn’t a soft kind of woman who needed silken sheets and rose petals. Rough and hard described her life, and she liked it that way. Sex with Carey would be everything she wanted.

  He released his hold on her neck, allowing her to leverage herself up, hands planted on the planes of his chest. His palms smoothed up her thighs, pushing her skirt out of the way as he kept going until he gripped her hips. His touch, the rasp of his fingers over her hips, inspired her to do wicked things.

  Grasping his cock with one hand, she pulled her skirt back over his arm, giving them both an unimpeded view. His hands moved with her, steadying her when she rose to her knees. His gaze was glued to her pussy, his mouth slightly open and entirely focused on her.

  She did that to him. Whatever she thought of her own shortcomings, Carey was hot for her, and she wanted to live up to that.

  Elise painted the head of his cock with her folds, guiding it back and forth through her wet pussy.

  “Put me inside of you,” he said, voice wheezing through his teeth.

  “Like this?” she managed to ask as she pressed down. She wasn’t entirely relaxed enough to make it easy. Instead she fucked the head of his cock, teasing him and feeling herself stretch a little more each time.

  “Fuck me.” He tightened his hands on her hips and tilted his head back, eyes squeezed closed. Under her, his hips moved, muscles flexing as he tried and failed to restrain himself.

  Grabbing his hips, she lowered her body, the pressure building until it burned as she stretched around the girth of his cock. Her head spun from the intense pleasure and pain radiating from her pussy.

  His grip tightened. Rising, she looked down at their joined bodies. With his hands at her hips guiding her, she slid back down, her muscles giving more easily this time to the intrusion. He thrust his hips up, forcing more of him in her.

  “Look at me,” Carey panted.

  She met his gaze—his dilated eyes and face flushed with their shared lust.

  Rising again on her knees, she thrust down with more force, feeling his full length lodge inside her. Her internal muscles squeezed, flexing around him, hugging him close. He groaned, his head tossed back and eyes closed.

  Leaning forward, she dug her hands in his hair and dragged his face up to meet hers in a quick, sloppy kiss. Her hair fell around her shoulders, blanketing them both in a mess of tangles and curls.

  Pushing away, she lifted herself and thrust down hard. Carey grunted, his back arching off the couch. He seemed to like that so she did it again, only this time he met her thrust. Fireworks blossomed behind her eyelids. Planting her hands on his chest for a different angle, she thrust again, the friction against her clit enough to make her the one gasping.

  Their bodies worked in tandem, thrust and withdraw. The sound of their wet flesh slapping filled the air. Sweat broke out on his chest and his hands began to roam over her backside and up. She wanted him to touch her clit. It ached, pulsing at the apex of her thighs with only enough stimulation to make her want more.

  He’d told her what to do, what made him hot. Why couldn’t she?

  “Carey.” She swallowed her nerves as he thrust back into her. “Touch me.”

  “I am.” His hand closed on her ass.

  “No,” she almost wailed.

  He chuckled. The jerk knew what she wanted. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” His hand closed over her breast, fingers plucking at her puckered nipple. She moaned. “Here?” He tweaked her other nipple. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sensation and what she wanted to say.

  “Touch my damn clit.”

  He grinned. His hands guided her body, his hips angled and stroking in to hit a new spot that made her gasp.

  “Touch yourself. It’ll be fucking hot. Do it. Come on, Elise.”

  Eyes still closed, she put one hand on the back of the couch and closed her other hand over her mound. She brushed his cock, wet with her juices, moving in and out of her, the crinkling pubic hair and her own damp skin. Finding her clit wasn’t hard. It was fully erect and hypersensitive. She gasped at her own touch, light though it was.

  “Yeah, that’s hot,” he growled.

  With firmer strokes, she lost the feeling of being self-conscious. Need built inside her, sensation reverberating through her whole body, starting in her toes to roll up and over her.

  “Oh god, Carey!”

  The orgasm wasn’t a surprise but the intensity was. It didn’t just wash over her. It crashed, robbing her of her senses. Vaguely she thought she might have heard herself shout as her muscles clenched around his cock and her body convulsed in pleasure.

  Carey gripped her tightly, slamming his hips up into her, sheathing himself as deep as he could go. Through the thin latex barrier, she felt him twitch and come inside her.

  And then it was over. Her body went limp and she dropped to his chest, nuzzling and kissing him in a silent thank you before settling her cheek against his shoulder to catch her breath.

  His hands smoothed her hair off her face and over her shoulder, clumsy now. Under her ear, she listened to his heartbeat and the deep rise and fall of his breath.

  “Damn, girl. You’re better than a wet dream.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t know what to say to that. Thank you? I think.”

  He stroked her hair, a simple act that was soothing and intimate. He’d never done more than tweak her braids befor
e, and while he wasn’t the first man to twirl her hair around his finger, this was Carey. She turned her face to his neck.

  “Hey.” He nudged her shoulder.

  She lifted her head, pillowing her chin on her hands. “Hm?”

  Her heart fluttered a bit as she looked at him, a goofy smile spread across his lips and mischief back in his half-lidded eyes. God, he was beautiful, in a manly kind of way, and sexy. His light-brown hair was sun bleached and stuck up haphazardly. He had a slight hint of stubble across his chin and beautiful gold-flecked green eyes.

  “What do you say to some hot tub time?” He crossed one arm behind his head and continued to twirl her hair around and around his finger.

  “Sure. Why not?” Lou was right. She had only one shot at being happy.

  “Awesome.” His grin was contagious. “Why don’t you go get the jets started, and I’ll be there in a sec?”

  She levered herself up. “I don’t have a suit.”

  He cupped her ass. “You don’t need one.”

  The act was possessive, when Carey wasn’t typically a possessive kind of guy. Startled, she chuckled and stood, unsure how to respond. She’d seen Carey with two years of girlfriends, he was a good guy, but not overly concerned about staking his claim. Maybe this was a side of him she hadn’t known, being on the outside looking in.

  Chapter Six

  The view from Carey’s back door was breathtaking. In the daylight the trees framed the mountain range. The ground stretched out, ending in large, flat stones. At night, with the stars stretched out overhead, it seemed more intimate. It was private, exactly how she liked it.

  Elise loved the porches. They were comfortable extensions of the house, with nature acting as the walls. It was an intimate space, where more than once he’d coaxed confessions out of her she’d rather not have shared. But he got to her. What were they now? Her stomach knotted and the postcoital bliss evaporated. They’d never just be friends again. Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life?

  Shaking her head, she turned from staring into the darkness and flipped on the lights. Two bulbs at opposite ends of the porch flickered on. She hadn’t noticed the netting that had been installed around the porch, but it made sense. Keeping the bugs away while you enjoyed a soak was a good idea.

  Like the rest of his house, this space reflected the importance of comfort over anything else. The hot tub was set into the ground on one side. Well-worn furniture scattered around the open space showed that this was where he really lived. It didn’t surprise her. They shared a love of the outdoors.

  When he stayed following the first season and built the house, she’d learned how much they had in common. She didn’t know the particulars about his family life, but they’d both wanted to stand on their own feet and do what they loved. Becoming friends hadn’t been intentional. Carey had an easy way about him that drew people in. She was no different, though she had tried to dislike him in the beginning.

  She shivered in the cool night air, grateful for the prospect of hot water. It was tempting to wonder how many girls he’d shared the tub with, but she refused to let that sour tonight. For now, she’d try to enjoy what they had. Whatever it was. She turned the dials and the calm water churned with bubbles.

  Elise pulled the borrowed dress off and hung it on a peg. She owed Amanda. She would never see her roommate wearing it without images flashing through her head. She rubbed at the goose bumps that broke out on her arms from the evening chill, a contrast to how hot her blood still pumped.

  She stepped into the tub and stood in the middle, letting the hot water jets massage her legs while she twined her hair into a braid. She would have to pick out the tangles later, but for now finger combing and braiding it would have to do.

  A bubble of giddiness burst in her chest and she clamped a hand over her mouth, giggling into her palm. She’d just had sex with Carey. She’d had sex with her best friend. And she felt weird about not feeling weird about it. Hugging her arms around her, she turned to face the trees and sucked in a deep breath perfumed with the scents of pine and chlorine. Maybe it was nerves, but she couldn’t settle on one state of being. One moment she was giddy, the next her stomach threatened to bail on her. Hope tempted her. They wouldn’t be so bad together. Maybe something between them could work.

  The door squeaked open behind her. Light spilled around Carey as he stepped through, juggling towels, two beers and a handful of something. His grin faltered when he saw her and Elise’s heart leapt into her throat. Did he have second thoughts?

  “Have I ever told you that you’re beautiful?” he said, his voice husky. He knelt, naked, next to the tub and put the beers down. His gaze roved over her face and shoulders.

  Conscious of her nudity, she wrapped her arms around her chest. “Uh, no.” Her cheeks were hot, and not because of the steam rising off the water.

  “Damn.” He sighed and stood. “I’ll remember to tell you more often.” He tossed the towels onto the bench built against the rail and climbed into the tub. From the pile of—she should have guessed—condoms, he plucked something small. “Here, I thought you might want this.” He offered her a hair tie.

  She accepted the offering, not as grateful as she should have been. “Thanks. Old girlfriend?” She shut her mouth, regretting the question already. Turning away, she tied off the braid.

  He chuckled, settling on a seat, bottle in hand. “Nah, that’s yours. You left it.” He sipped his beer and watched her. “And so you know, you’re the only woman I’ve ever brought here.”

  “Oh.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. It shouldn’t matter that he hadn’t brought a girlfriend here, but it did. And it did dangerous things to her already vulnerable heart.

  “You’re special,” he said in a quiet voice that wrapped around her like a hug.

  She swallowed, ignoring his foot bumping her leg and sliding between her calves. Glancing over her shoulder, she arched a brow at him. “Is this the mushy, post-sex talk?”

  He cracked a grin. “Yeah, I guess it is. Don’t make fun of me too much, okay?”

  His leg hooked hers at the knee, tugging her backward.

  “Come here,” he said, holding out a hand. Water dripped from his fingertips and the hair on his arm was slicked to his skin.

  Turning slowly so as to not appear too eager, she did as he requested. She gave him one of her hands but kept the other tight around her chest. He’d already seen her breasts, not that there was anything to look at, but she’d never been exposed to him like this.

  Carey pulled her to the bench and slid a knee between her legs. He pulled her other wrist gently away from her body while holding her gaze. The heat rising from her cheeks made her eyes water. She wanted to look away from him but she couldn’t.

  Her breasts were at his eye level and her nipples hard. Between the mix of the cool night air, the hot steam from the tub and his gaze, her body was hypersensitive. Sex had only made her more aware.

  He set the beer on the side of the tub, his other hand against her back.

  “I didn’t do this earlier. You in a dress was too good to pass up.” He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss to her breast.

  She shivered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  “You like that?”

  She bit her lip. Men weren’t interested in her small breasts. She understood that, but it didn’t mean they weren’t sensitive. Much the opposite.

  Carey circled her hips with his arms, hands gripping her ass. He kissed her breastbone, his stubble scraping the small swells on either side. The sensation had her squirming, squeezing his knee between her thighs and clenching his shoulders.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  She watched him nuzzle his way around to the underside of each breast, spreading light kisses and scraping her with his stubble. It wasn’t a mindless act, it was purposeful. He followed the tan line under her bust from her bikini top, and once he had investigated that area to his liking, he began circling each breas
t in turn, each circle smaller than the last. Her eyes drifted closed at some point, lost in the feel of his lips on her flesh and the sensation ping-ponging from her nipples to her clit and back again. Carey touched every inch of her breasts save her nipples, which felt as if they could cut glass.

  “Hmm.” He released her, sat back and studied his handiwork. She swayed, unsteady on her feet. He swirled his hands in the water before lifting them to her breasts and gently massaging the tight peaks with his fingertips. She moaned. The hot water on her heated skin wasn’t that bad until he stopped and the cool night air stung the wet flesh.

  She hissed and clenched his shoulders tighter.

  “Man, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.

  Carey swept her jellied legs out from under her. She yelped and clung to his neck as he settled back on the bench with her in his lap.

  “Better.” He grinned, the same charming smile that had thawed her heart.

  “Not fair,” she growled and splashed at him.

  Laughing, he captured her wrists and held them against his chest. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

  Usually she’d say something scathing, but this close all she could do was marvel at the sun-bleached patterns in his hair and how his irises had a stunning, inner golden ring she’d missed.

  His lips ambushed her, pressing an aggressive kiss to her mouth, nipping her when she moved too slowly. He glided his hands over her hips and squeezed her ass under the water.

  When he leaned back, his grin was bigger than ever. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  Still catching her breath, she glared at him. What was that supposed to mean?

  He laughed, no doubt at her, and cupped her cheek. “We need to set some ground rules.”