Forbidden Fruit Vol 2

by Millstead, Kasey

  “Thanks,” he says, with a smug grin. “So you’ll do the things on my list?”

  “Probably. I need to look it over first.”

  He takes a deep breath. “When do we start?”

  ~*~*~*~

  “The key,” I say, over my shoulder. “Is to go really slow.”

  “Uh, I’m not sure I know how to go slow.”

  He trails his fingers down my back before they land on my hips. He’s got a prime view of my ass, since I’m straddled backward over his legs. Number one on the list? Reverse Cowgirl.

  “Did you see this in a porno or something?” I’d asked when he first showed it to me.

  “Well,” he said while looking at his feet. “Yeah.”

  “Let me take the lead,” I say. He’s rock-hard, and I’m wet enough, but I take the time to lube him up as I toy with his balls.

  “That’s not gonna help me take it slow,” he says and grunts.

  “Be patient,” I tell him before rising up just enough to slide back down. I give it a moment to let him fill me up before leaning over slightly. Then I begin to move. Slowly.

  Tyson’s clenches my ass, and I hear small noises of delight. I take him in and out, letting the tip brush against my entrance before sliding back down. I roll my hips and exaggerate my moves so my clit rubs against his pelvis. Impatient, he pulls me down in an effort to increase my pace.

  “Now,” he says. “Please?”

  I look back and say, “Slow down. It’ll be worth it.” He obliges and lets me regain my painfully slow pace. His dick is slippery and hot. The noises continue, and they’re almost turning into whines. His speed increases, but it’s controlled, and I long to see his face when he comes. When he sees the benefit of taking it slow.

  Tyson pulls apart my cheeks and brushes against the sensitive, hidden skin. The movement spurs me along, and I fight to maintain my steady rise and fall. Overwhelmed and teetering on the edge, I reach my hand between my legs to stimulate myself further. Waves of pleasure cross between my ass, pussy, and clit and send my body into spasms. “Tyson,” I say to let him know it’s time, because I’ve used all my strength.

  It’s all the encouragement his young body needs, and he digs his fingers into my hips to hold me down as he unloads inside. “Motherfuck,” he says, and I hear heavy breathing. His warm cum pools at the base of his dick, and I feel it wet against my pussy. I ease off and wind up sliding in the slippery mess a little. I touch it and hold up my fingers.

  “God, you’ve got so much of this stuff.”

  “For real. It’s never ending.” He laughs. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are glassy. Then he focuses and says, “That was fucking amazing.”

  “No,” I tell him and lean back against the pillow. “That was amazing fucking.”

  ~*~*~*~

  We spend the afternoon priming the bathroom walls. We’ve agreed to balance it out. Sex and work. As we cross something off our work list, we can cross something off the sex list. Though after the reverse cowgirl experiment this morning, Tyson’s not sure he ever wants to do anything else again.

  “The one thing you need to remember is that you’ve always got to pay attention to the woman’s needs. You’ll get off every time. She won’t. You’ve got to learn her body, and if it’s someone you don’t know well…you’ll have to learn on the job. Pay attention. Don’t be greedy.” I say all of this while spreading paint across the walls with a roller.

  “Did you teach Tom that also?” he asks. I look to see if he’s aiming for something by bringing up another lover, but his expression is sincere.

  I shrug. “Maybe. We’ve been hooking up for years. We’ve gotten used to one another’s bodies.”

  “He put your needs first that night. He, you know…” Tyson looks a little embarrassed. “And he didn’t even get off himself.”

  “Oh, he was rewarded later, don’t worry.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” I say and shake my head. God, this thing between us is strange. Kind of wonderful but strange.

  “What did you do?” he asks.

  “I don’t think that’s really any of your business.”

  “Seriously? I watched the guy eat you out for like, ten minutes and jerked off at the same time. I think we’ve crossed any sort of privacy barrier here.”

  I brush a couple of loose strands of hair back out of my eyes. “Fine. I sucked him off. Then I fucked him.”

  Tyson stares at me for a moment then blinks. He goes back to his painting before he says, “Did he come in your mouth?”

  “No.”

  “Do you do that?”

  ”Yes.” I think about Tyson’s better-than-average sized cock. I’ve already wondered what he tastes like.

  “Good to know.”

  The subject drops, and we continue painting. “I think it will take two coats,” he says a while later.

  “Probably. When we’re finished, I think I’ll install some bead board around the bottom, instead of tile.”

  “The wooden slats with the little lines?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  He nods. “That’ll look good.”

  We clean up the paint, rollers, and brushes. I use my damp tank top to cool myself, but it’s no use. With the power out, we can’t turn any fans on, and the afternoon humidity has turned unbearable. “Want to take a swim?” I say.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll meet you down there.” To my surprise, he stops me then pulls me close for a kiss. That same burning desire rushes through my body. “You’re not distracting me,” I tell him before I lick my lips and walk toward the door. I leave before he turns me into a liar.

  ~*~*~*~

  “Avery!”

  I hear my name just as I’m walking out of the cabin. I’ve got my towel and some lunch for me and Tyson to share at the lake. “Hi, Monica. Everything okay after the storm?”

  “A little tree damage on the garage but nothing Dan can’t fix. I wanted to invite you and Tyson over for dinner. We’ve got a ton of food in the freezer that’s going to spoil if we don’t cook it. Steak and fish.”

  I’d rather spend the night in sexing up Tyson, but we’ve got to eat, and we also need to socialize a little to avoid suspicion, since they’re already assuming the nineteen-year-old son of my best friend is my new lover. God, it sounds worse every time I think it.

  I smile at Monica and say, “Sounds great. I’m sure Tyson will be happy to have some food that doesn’t come out of a can.”

  “See you around six?”

  She takes the path back to her house, and I walk down to the dock. “What was that about,” Tyson asks as he appears on the path moments later.

  “Hiding from Monica?”

  “A little,” he says. “To be honest, I was afraid she’d see the erection I’m sporting seeing you in that bikini.”

  That statement should be terrible. Rude and horrible. Instead, I’m flattered and charmed, and the pit of my stomach flutters like there are a million butterflies inside. “Well, keep it to yourself, because I’m sure she’s watching from up at her place.”

  I jump in the water and allow myself to sink deep. A wave tumbles over me, so I know Tyson’s jumped in, too. “I skipped my swim today,” he says. “Want to go across?”

  I don’t even try to race him. He slows down for me, and I say, “I don’t remember your mother telling me you swam much.”

  He rolls to his back and glides through the water. “Just summer league. I have my lifeguard certification. Mostly I run and lift weights. There’s no gym up here, so I decided to switch gears.”

  The results have been magnificent. Even after just a couple of weeks, his muscles are leaner and well-defined. “How did you get so disciplined? I can barely get my ass out of bed each day, much less race down to swim laps.”

  “Don’t act like you don’t exercise.”

  “Because I have to,” I retort. “This body isn’t getting any younger.” We reach the other side and climb out onto
the beach. “We used to play over here all the time when I was a kid. It’s been years since I’ve come over here.”

  We walk along the shore while avoiding the rocks and debris. Twice his hand brushed against my hip and snags the thin tie holding up my bathing suit. Tyson stops and tosses several pebbles into the lake. “Can I ask a question?”

  “I guess.”

  “How come you never got married? Mom says you had a couple opportunities.”

  “Oh, so you guys gossip about me?”

  “Mom worries about you being alone. Dad thinks you’re hilarious and a ball-breaker.”

  “And you?”

  He shrugged. “I never thought much about it until this summer.”

  I sit on the sand and look out over the water. Tyson does the same. “I had a couple of chances for marriage. The first one being Tom, long ago. We’ve always loved one another, but I wasn’t ready. I had dreams of traveling the world. Which I did for a while. I had another serious relationship when I was in Africa with the Peace Corp, but that didn’t stick once we got back to the States. Tom settled down while I was gone, and he was happy. I was pretty content being single.”

  “What happened to his wife?”

  “She died a couple of years ago.” I toss in my own pebble and watch the waves ripple across the water. “Tom and I had slowly reconnected, but again, the timing never felt right. Now it’s more out of comfort than anything else.”

  I stand and walk back into the water, not interested in talking about my past any more. In my heart, I never regretted leaving here and not marrying Tom, but I can admit I’m lonely. Tyson follows me back across the lake.

  “What I’m wondering.We approach my dock, “is why it’s okay for you to find comfort in sex, and I can’t.”

  “Because you’re nineteen, and the girls you’re screwing aren’t mature enough to know what they want.”

  “But you are? That sounds a little hypocritical and ageist. Why do you assume they can’t make that decision?”

  “Because girls mix up their heart with their hormones. Not all of them but a majority.” He doesn’t argue. “Sadly, I’ve been through enough to know the difference. So yeah, I’m capable of making my own decisions. And mistakes.”

  “Which one am I? Comfort or a mistake?”

  I climb up the ladder and feel the lake water rush down my legs. “Both.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Before we go over to Monica’s for dinner, I ask Tyson to meet me in my room. I’d told him to wear something clean, and my comment was met with a heavy eye roll, so I assume he has something other than dirty cargo pants and paint-stained T-shirts.

  I shower and change into a red sundress. A thin strap ties at the back of my neck, and I feel better knowing I have someone to dress for tonight. At 5:28, Tyson taps on my door.

  “Wow,” he says as he steps into my room. “You look great.”

  I turn away from the mirror and am surprised by his appearance. His face is clean and shaved. His hair is brushed. He’s wearing a crisp, light blue button-down and clean khaki shorts. The shirt matches his eyes.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Well, you never cease to surprise me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Hard worker, disciplined, appropriate dresser.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s like you’ve never met my mother.”

  I brush off that statement, because he’s right. His mother may have babied him, but she’s a stickler about appearances. I turn back to the mirror and lift a chain to my neck. Before I can struggle with the clasp, Tyson steps behind me. “I can do that,” he says and takes the chain from my hands.

  “Thank you.” After he latches the clasp, I point to an armchair at the foot of the bed. “Sit there.”

  “Now? Don’t we need to go?”

  “We’ve got time. I want to do something.”

  Tyson takes a seat, and I walk over then kneel before him. “Earlier, we talked about being mature enough to make a choice.”

  He swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Right.”

  “Have you had a blow job before?”

  “Yes.”

  I run my hands up and down his thighs. First over his shorts then under. “I want to show you the difference between being with a girl who knows what she wants and one that’s just sort of around for the ride. Lean back.”

  He relaxes in the chair, and I continue to stroke his legs. I reach my fingers forward until they hit the top of his thighs. Then I lean close to his ear and whisper, “Relax and let me take care of you.”

  I unbutton his shirt and kiss his neck and shoulders before moving on to his nipples. I lick and suck gently on each one before I move down to his hard stomach. While running my fingers through the soft fur on his belly, I unbuckle his belt and loosen his pants, but I don’t take them off. Instead, I blow a hot, heavy breath across the fabric, just to tease him.

  “You’re wicked,” he says as he seems to be fighting to take control. He moves as if he’s about to rip his own cock out of his pants, but I hold his wrists against the arms of the chair.

  “I’ll do that,” I say and free his cock before pulling his pants slowly down his legs. Once removed, I turn my attention back to his dick. It bounces hard and heavy against his stomach.

  I make eye contact, and I can see his jaw tenses in anticipation. I stroke his shaft and revel in the velvety softness of the skin. The tip burns with heat, and a tiny drop of pre-cum oozes out the top. I lick the tip then down the sides of his shaft.

  “Move forward a little,” I say. He scoots forward, so his balls are hanging over the edge of the chair. I cup them from underneath and push his cock toward his stomach. While looking him in the eyes, I kiss his balls and lick them, taking my time to cover the surface. His erection throbs, and there’s a mixture of pleading and ecstasy in his deep-blue eyes. He wants my mouth on his cock. Instead, I take in his balls. Tyson grips the arms of the chair so hard, I think they may snap.

  I release him but make one final move before going back to his cock. I lift his balls just enough and take a long lick on the piece of skin buried underneath, Tyson trembles and gasps. He moans deep in his chest. “Dammit, Avery,” he says with a tense, glorious smile.

  Returning to his cock, I take him in my mouth while using one hand on the base of his shaft and the other to gently stroke his balls. He’s ready now, and he seems to have found the strings holding up my dress. I feel the straps falling, exposing my breasts. He brushes against my nipples with his fingertips. Now I’m the one trembling.

  I suck the tip like a lollypop and move higher on my knees. “Fuck my mouth, Tyson.”

  And he does.

  He starts off a little wobbly, his rhythm sloppy and uncoordinated. He’s excited, incredibly so. Then we find a pace. It’s hard, because I’m learning that’s how he likes it, and the aggression fuels my passion. I milk his shaft with one hand and continue to stroke his balls with the other, a little harder now.

  “Avery,” he calls, letting me know he’s close, but he doesn’t have to. The thought of him coming in my mouth drives me wild.

  I pause just long enough to say, “Give it to me Tyson, all of it. I want all of you.” Then I take him in deeper, as far as he’ll go.

  The endless supply of cum he seems to have, explodes down my throat. I leave my jaw open until he jerks twice more, which allows him to remove himself first. This will end when he’s ready.

  “Holy fuck,” he says and falls back in the chair. His dick’s red and hot, lying limp in his lap. He rubs his eyes and repeats the words like a mantra. “Holy fuck. Fuck, Avery. Fuck.”

  I lean over and kiss his lips. “You’re welcome.”

  ~*~*~*~

  We’re ten minutes late, because Tyson took longer to recover than I expected. “Are you sure they can’t tell,” he says, uncharacteristically nervous. A thin layer of sweat covers his forehead. “I feel like it’s written on my face.”

  “No one will know,” I say, but I’m not
completely sure. He’s wearing a goofy grin, and he’s got the easy swagger of a guy who just had the best oral sex of his life. “Just act normal.”

  “Where did you learn to do that?” he asks while on the path to Monica and Dan’s.

  “I took a class.”

  He stops dead. “You did?”

  “Oh my God, did I suck your brains out of your head? No. I did not take a class. It’s just a skill I learned over the years.”

  “No wonder Tom keeps coming back for more.”

  When we arrive, Monica’s on the back patio lighting a dozen candles. Several other couples from the mountain are here, and I stop cold realizing Tom may be here as well. Oh, shit.

  “Avery! You made it,” Monica says with a huge smile. She’s wearing a black tube top and super short white shorts. Her slim tan legs stretch for miles. It makes my sundress look tame in comparison.

  “Thanks for having us.” I hand her a bottle of wine. “Is Tom coming? I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days.”

  Monica frowns. “He’s at the beach, remember?”

  I slap my forehead. “Oh, right, yes his annual trip to the Outer Banks.” The one he’s invited me on every year for the last five years. I haven’t gone, because I feel like it would take our relationship a step further than I’m willing to go. That I don’t remember is a red flag to how distracted I’ve become over the last couple of weeks. “I’ve been loopy ever since I cut my arm and been on the pain meds,” I say, lying through my teeth.

  “He’ll be back on Sunday. Casey’s covering the restaurant.”

  “Of course,” I say and reach for a glass before filling it to the top with wine. “I must be growing senile in my old age.”

  I introduce Tyson to the other neighbors, each of them around my age, if not older. Bob and Stacy have a son in college, and Martha and Becky’s daughter got married last year. I explain in detail the work we’ve been doing on the cottage and how Tyson’s helped me. I hope my affection for him isn’t obvious, or that it’s mistaken for the kind of affection I’d have for my best friend’s son. But I’m not convinced I pulled it off.

  “Is this weird?” I ask him when we have a moment alone. “Being around all these old folks?”