by Meghan Quinn
“Hands above your head,” I command.
“Take my shirt off,” she answers back, a strain to her voice.
“No chance, baby. My tongue has a one-track mind right now.”
Squirming under me, causing the shirt to ride up some more, almost exposing her goddamn nipples, I suck in a deep breath.
“Doesn’t seem like it. Seems like your mouth just wants to fucking tease me right now.”
“Ever heard of foreplay, baby? It’s where I spend my fine-ass time licking, sucking, and playing with your body until you’re so wet between your legs—so fucking ready—that your clit is pounding out of control. That with one flick of my tongue you’ll be screaming my name at the top of your lungs.”
Her eyes become hazy, her breathing more rapid than before, and her legs fall open for me. “You know,” she finally replies after licking her lips seductively, “languid sexual encounters can go both ways.”
I lean forward and press my mouth against hers, diving my tongue against hers, tasting every essence of her, just enough to give her a complex when I pull away. Winking at her, I say, “I look forward to our role reversal. Until then, keep your hands where I can see them and your shirt firmly in place.”
“Not a boob guy?” she asks with a wicked grin.
“I’m into whatever you have to offer, but right now, I’m focusing on your pussy.”
I catch a glimpse of her almost-exposed breast. I swallow hard and keep moving down her body until I’m hovering above her panty line. With my tongue, I run the length of the thin fabric. Her legs beneath me fall apart even farther, making room for my broad shoulders. God, her scent. She’s already so wet. My teeth graze her skin, nip her, tease her, just before I snag the hem of her thong and drag it down, my nose grazing her bare pussy. Leaning back, I take the thong with my hand and quickly toss it to the ground. Not caring about any reservations she might be feeling, I grip her knees and spread her legs, pushing them up around her chest. Fuck, she’s flexible.
Eyes wide, she gazes at me, wondering what I have in store for her.
“Grip your knees, Sadie, and keep them there. I have other plans for my hands that don’t involve holding your legs back.”
A sexy gasp pops out of her mouth before she does as she’s told, giving me the perfect view of her sweet, aroused pussy.
Fuck. Me.
Licking my lips, fucking excited about tasting her, I bury my head between her legs, forgetting about the whole going-slow process, and start lapping at her clit. The moment my tongue hits her arousal my dick jolts in response. Fuck, she tastes so good, like goddamn honey.
I appreciate a well-thought-out equation, a scientific discovery, a perfectly cleaned motherboard from a computer, but holy shit do I love a tempting, sweet-tasting pussy.
The need for more overtakes my senses. My mind is focused on one thing: making this beautiful woman come on my tongue. With my fingers, I spread her lips and suck on her clit, pulling a long, appreciative moan from her. I do it again, harder, rotating from sucking and licking, adding in a few kisses here and there, but more than anything, flicking my tongue across her most sensitive area.
Beside me, her legs shake, her hands slowly lose grip on her knees, and her moans release more rapidly. Her entire body starts to quiver against my shoulders. She’s close.
Glancing up, I take in her beauty. Her mouth drawn in an O, her eyes shut, her neck muscles strained, the bottom of her breasts bouncing with the shaking of her body.
Wanting to take her orgasm one step further, I remove my mouth, causing a groan to pull from her lips. “Wh-what . . . are you doing?” She’s out of breath and the look of torture is eating her up.
“Lay that pretty head of yours back down and focus on holding your legs in place.” When she gives in, I start to run my fingers around her hole, teasing her relentlessly, just barely skimming her skin, occasionally brushing across her clit.
“Oh God, please, Andrew,” she begs, her legs shaking.
Bringing my fingers to her entrance, I ask, “How much do you want this, Sadie?”
“So much,” she pants.
With the pace of a sloth, I press my fingers inside her, loving the way she tries to press her hips down, urging my entrance. She’s so fucking wet, so fucking tight, it takes everything in me not to snap my will and just devour her.
My fingers now slipping deeper inside her, curving in just the right place, I bend my head back down and press my tongue against her clit once more. The pressure of my fingers and tongue pushes her over the edge.
“Oh yes,” she screams. Her moans fill the small space of my bedroom while I let her ride my tongue until she’s left to only tiny little trembles of pleasure.
Spent, she releases her legs and places both her arms over her face, covering her eyes in what seems like disbelief.
And holy fuck, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed, watching Sadie be so exposed, so vulnerable, laying it all out there for me to take advantage of. Shit, that was . . . that was unclassifiable.
Moving up her body, my dick in so much fucking pain from Sadie’s unbridled orgasm, I lay my body across hers and start peppering her jaw with little kisses.
My voice comes out husky as I ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she sighs on a long breath, and then peeks at me through her arms. When she finally shows her face, a giant smile greets me. Fuck, I like her. There is no denying that feeling, not after she holds my balls in the palm of her hand after one sexual encounter.
“You surprise me, Andrew,” she finally says once she catches her breath.
“Yeah, how so?” I ask, sill kissing her neck. She tilts her head to the side, giving me better access.
“Because, you give off this whole innocent vibe when in fact, you’re a dirty freak in the bedroom.”
I lift my head and wink at her. “The innocent ones usually are the freaks in the bedroom.”
Scooting up on the bed, she maneuvers so I’m not fully lying on her. With a wicked smile, she says, “My turn.”
“Oh yeah? What do you have planned?” I ask, my dick praising Jesus right now for its impending release.
“Sit up and lean against the wall.” It’s cute how she’s trying to boss me around in the bedroom. She’s not the same girl who bosses me around at work. She’s more vulnerable, which makes her demands that much more adorable.
I get in position and wait, my cock begging to be released from its confines. When she looks down at my lap, her eyes go wide from the very blatant boner I’m sporting. “Don’t just stare at the fella, you’re going to make him think he has something in his teeth.”
Glancing up at me, through her eyelashes, she says, “If your dick has teeth, what I have in mind is not going to happen.”
I smirk. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite.”
“I hate this conversation right now.” She laughs, the sound making my cock jump even higher.
“Sadie,” I groan. “You can’t go and laugh while I have a raging erection, you know how much I love your laugh. Please, are you going to help a guy out here?”
Taking a second to scan me up and down, she nods and right in front of me, without skipping a beat, she lifts her shirt over her head, revealing her completely naked body to me, and holy fuck.
Her tits are just right. Not too big, not too small, with dark, rosy nipples puckered from the late-night air. By the end of the night, there is no doubt in my mind that my mouth will be all over them.
“Fuck, Sadie,” I mumble, taking her all in.
She doesn’t say a word. No, my girl stands before me—naked—then leans forward, her face hovering over my lap, and removes my boxers. I lift up off the bed to assist her. When her eyes return to my lap, her mouth drops open. Needing some of the tension building in my dick to ease, I stroke it a few times, leaning my head against the wall behind me. When my eyes return to hers, all I see is longing.
From the look in her face, I’m going to guess she agrees w
ith the nickname.
I watch in fascination as her eyes turn heady with lust while her hands travel up my thighs. Bending at the waist, her breasts swaying with her movements, she lowers her head to my dick where she gently grips it in her right hand. A hiss escapes my lips from the tentative grip she has on me.
Her eyes on mine, she moves her hand to the base of my cock and squeezes like a motherfucking vise, shooting my hips off the damn bed.
“Christ.” I bite down on my lip, trying to reel in my reaction.
With her hand gripping my cock tightly, she brushes her tongue along the head, circling it, flicking, fucking teasing me like I did her. The little vixen. I don’t know why I expected anything less.
As she swirls her tongue around the tip of my length, flicking the underside along the sensitive vein that runs the distance, blasts of white-hot pleasure shoot through me. My hands start to clench at my sides, my balls tightening, the pressure of her hand at the base of my cock, slowly moving up, squeezing me so fucking hard that I’m pretty sure I could come any minute.
“Fuck,” I breathe out heavily. “Fuck, Sadie, you have to stop.”
Her tongue dances across the very tip lightly while her other hand starts to gently cup my balls, rolling them expertly along her fingers.
Oh fuck, oh fuck me. I bite down on the side of my cheek and will myself not to explode right then and there.
“Sadie.” I pull her up on my lap, snapping her away from her little game of torture. “Stop, baby.” My breath comes out in heavy spurts.
“Too much?” she asks, her fingers now dancing across my chest.
“Condom. Now.” My voice is rough, demanding. I nod at my nightstand drawer.
Taking my direction, she leans over, pops open the drawer—a drawer I stocked when my parents were NOT around—and quickly removes the foil.
“Want me to slip it on?” she asks with a cheeky grin.
Snagging the rubber from her, I say, “No! Christ, no, I don’t.”
She gives me a second to sheath myself while I pray to the orgasm gods to not let me go early. If they cared about me at all, they would prevent my balls from giving in to this amazing woman.
Protection in place, she straddles my lap, my back still against the wall, and positions my cock at her entrance. Fuck, my tip rubs against her warm heat, almost exploding my mind from the friction. My hands on her hips, I lean my head against the wall. I’m momentarily stunned by the picture of beauty before me.
She leans forward, her lips barely caressing mine, her hips rotating slightly, using the tip of my dick as a tease along her arousal. She groans into my mouth as her tongue flicks my lips.
“Fucking ride me,” I say, not wanting to do any more of this beating-around-the-bush bullshit—not that she has a bush to beat around actually.
Right on cue, she falls down on my dick, bottoming out all too quickly. There was no easing; there was no inch-by-inch movement on her end. No, she took me all in like a fucking boss. Her cry echoes through my head, making me feel drunk and hazy, like I was just knocked out by Captain Pleasure.
“Oh God,” she moans, her head resting against my chest now, her hips slowly making circles. “Cannon cock is,” she takes a deep breath, “a very accurate description.”
That gets a chuckle, but it’s quickly washed away when her head lifts and her eyes meet mine. Filled with desire, with a yearning I never thought I’d see from this intriguing girl, her arms wrap around my neck, and she starts to methodically move up and down on my hardened length. Her legs propelling her thrusts, they squeeze against mine for stability and in this moment, our eyes trained on each other, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so intimate.
Intimate. Fuck, is that what this is? Not a quick fuck, but intimacy? Does she think of it that way? I sure as hell hope so, because for once, I will be right there with her.
Gripping her ass, I guide her up and down as well, my hips starting to thrust up when she goes down. The combination is repeated, her moan growing with each passing bout of rubbing. Her forehead presses against mine as she looks down at our connection, something I’ve always found incredibly sexy in a woman, wanting to experience it all.
Fuck, this is all too much. The way her tits bounce against my chest, the feel of her tight pussy squeezing me with each pass, her sweet, and sexy moans in my ear . . . I’m going to lose it. I’m going to blow it before she even has a chance to think about visiting O-town.
Hold the fuck back. Grandma, think of Grandma. Lipstick on the teeth, curlers in her hair until noon.
Sadie’s thighs slap against mine.
Grandma! Wrinkly and old, dentures in a drinking cup.
Sadie’s pebbled nipples rub against my chest, and they’re so fucking hard.
Grandma. Dammit! Knee-high stockings and Velcro shoes.
“Shit, Andrew. I’m going to come.”
Thank, Christ. Catch ya later, Grams.
I assist her thrusts even more, taking control of our connection as her hands fall to my shoulders, trying her best to slam as hard as she can down on my lap. Her head falls back, her nipples pebbled in the air, her tits bouncing, and the strain in her neck . . .
“Oh God!” she cries out. Her movements are so erratic. Her pussy squeezing all around me.
That’s it. Everything in me goes blank. My balls tighten and with one final thrust, white-hot pleasure envelops me. My orgasm roars through me, and my dick twitches for what seems like fucking days. I spill into her, thrusting until every last drop is drained from me, and I feel like I’ll never catch my breath.
Slowing down, our bodies slide together, our sweat mixing, our breathing simply panting, and the combination is fucking aces.
Yeah, I said it. It’s FUCKING ACES.
“Shit,” I breathe out. “That was hot.”
Chuckling, she lifts her head and kisses my lips. “That was something we will be doing again.”
Smiling at her, I thrust up again, reminding her of our connection. “I told you he wouldn’t bite.”
Pushing back on my chest, she starts clapping her hands. “And there he is, the Andrew I first met, always making things awkward.”
I laugh from the pit of my stomach. “Sorry, baby, I can’t be suave and debonair all the time. I’ve got to show some faults for mankind, or how else would it be fair to men around me?”
She rolls her eyes and climbs off me, but not quick enough. I pin her to the bed beneath us and press my chest against hers.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say you’re into me.”
Tilting her head to the side, a playful look in her eyes, she says, “Unfortunately, Andrew. I’m into you.” Unfortunately?
“Ha!” I fist-pump the air. “I’ll take it!”
Chapter Thirteen
SADIE
“Why are you walking like that?” Smilly asks while sticking her hand in a bag of Cheetos.
“Walking like what?” I ask, snagging a Gatorade from the fridge, heat chasing up my neck.
Bringing his beer to his mouth, Saddlemire adds, “Like you’ve been sitting on a flagpole for five hours.”
Maybe because that’s what it feels like. Jumping Mr. Cannon Cock wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had. I should have eased myself down. I should have taken my time and allowed myself to stretch with each inch, but no, I had to be all slutty and bang his dick like it was my own personal twenty-inch dildo.
My poor, poor vagina. But his fabulous, fabulous dick.
The funny thing is though, I would do it all over again because last night was . . . oh God, I’m a gushing idiot, but it was amazing. It was fun. Calming in a way. And most definitely easy. I didn’t feel like I was carrying three suitcases of baggage while lying next to him. And the way he cuddles. Oh, sweet Jesus. I want to say it was the twin bed, but it wasn’t, it was all him. He knew exactly where to hold me, how to faintly kiss me in the middle of the night, and how to stroke me innocently with the pad of his
thumb. He could easily be one of those people you pay to cuddle you. Hell, he could be one of those people you pay to dry hump you.
“Slipped at work,” I answer. I had the noon shift, which was nice because I got out early. Andrew unfortunately has the later shift, which, now that I think about it, might be a good thing, you know, because the flagpole walking and all.
“Slipped at work?” Smilly asks.
“Yeah, some dipshit spilled soup on the ground. I slipped and pulled something, but don’t worry, I didn’t spill out. I caught myself before I completely biffed it.” I’m a little terrified with how easy these lies are flowing from my lips.
“Morons,” Smilly mutters. “I would claim worker’s comp, take a week off, binge-watch Netflix and day drink.”
“Hell, let’s all hurt ourselves at work and do that.” Saddlemire tilts back the rest of his beer. “I can’t remember the last time I took a week off to drink.”
Turning toward her boyfriend, Smilly chucks a puff at him. “I do. When the Yankees didn’t make the play-offs. You claimed to have mono when instead you almost drank yourself to a coma.”
“Well, fuck. Why do they have to suck now? Get it together, Girardi!” Saddlemire says toward the Yankees’ manager. “I don’t think I can take another year of no play-offs. The Yankees and post-season go together like fucking peanut butter and jelly.”
Smilly shakes her head. “I will never understand the passion you have for such menial things.”
“Menial?” Saddlemire and I both ask at the same time.
“Babe.” He sits up, a mask of seriousness on his face now. “Think about when you start humping the fridge when you make the perfect sugar cookie, transfer that passion to the Yankees. That’s what we feel.”
Looking between us, she pops a puff in her mouth and then says, “Not even comparable.”
