by Sonya Jesus
She moans into my mouth, and I grow harder. My hands fist her hair, and I back her up so that her back is against the cold tile. When she lifts her leg, and lets it slide down my leg, my hands stroll downward, gripping her ass cheeks and lifting her up so our centers are aligned. She wraps her legs around my waist, opening herself to me. I’m sure she can feel my erection against her, but in case she doesn’t, I assert myself more prominently between her legs.
She throws her head back, but I fist her hair and bring her face to mine, so my lips can devour hers again. Propping her up against the wall, I create a little space between us and fumble with the button on my jeans. I don’t want to put her down, but we are both fully clothed. She notices my predicament and slides down my body to stand on her own two feet. She reaches for the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, dropping the shirt to the ground. I watch her as she unbuttons her jeans and unzips, then shimmies out of them. The way her hips sway does little to help my situation.
Neither did her demanding, “Take your clothes off.”
Confidence is fucking hot and the fact that she actually thinks I would do what she tells me, is even hotter. I might not like being told what to do, but when it’s something I am already planning on doing, I don’t mind it at all, especially if it comes from a girl whose lips are swollen from kissing mine.
I must take too long, because before I know it, she’s undressing me one piece at a time. She goes right for the biggest barrier first. She slides my jeans down, then my shirt. Her fingers run along my abs, carefully tracing every dip as she admires it. I let her stay in control for another minute, and then I grab her hand and guide it down toward my erection.
She gives me a sultry look as she pulls me free. I look down, loving the sight of my dick between her hands. Half of me wants to wait and see if she’d drop to her knees, but the other half knows if she wraps those perfectly soft lips around me, I’d be done.
I cup her cheek and divert her gaze up to me, but her hands are relentless. They glide and slide, yank and tug enough to force my eyes closed for a moment. One of her hands releases me, and floats up to mine. She guides my hand, like I had done hers, down to her center. I keep my eyes closed for a moment longer, because I know the minute I touch her she’d be wet and ready. What I didn’t expect is for her to push her thong to the side and drive my fingers inside her.
My eyes go wide, and I can’t help the huge grin that encompasses my face. Fucking confidence.
“You like that?” Her voice is low and raspy, growing hungry with desire.
I flick my thumb over her nub as I gently pump her. It’s meant to excite her, but when she clamps down on her lip and elicits the softest whimper, I remove my fingers, bring her back up around my waist and plunge into her.
She cries out and I busy her mouth so she won’t make any more noises. Not because people from the party would hear, the music was too loud for that, but because the more she voices her pleasure, the harder it is to control mine. Instead, I swallow every tasteful moan, and let it course through my body until we find a perfect rhythm of throbs and hums. Our breaths go ragged, and the tension in our bodies rises as we draw nearer. She squeezes her thighs together, making it tighter, causing ripples of pleasure to oscillate through me as she increases the tempo.
Fuck. She is milking me and I have almost no restraint left.
“I’m going to come, Keenan.” I sigh with relief. Her muscles contract, intensifying the sensation. I feel her pulsating as she rides her release. I came, groaning as I filled her.
My head drops on her shoulder and we hold each other, waiting for our breaths to return to normal.
She’s the first to speak. “We didn’t use a condom.”
Not exactly the words I would have liked to hear after amazing sex like that, but truth none the less. She doesn’t seem to worried about it, though. We already had this conversation last night. We both knew we were clean, and she was on the pill, but I ask anyway. “Is that a problem?”
“Not for me.”
“Me either.” I release her so she can stand. I reach for some tissue paper and hand it to her so she can clean the liquid dripping down her thighs. My dick twitches at the thought, and I grab my clothes and dress myself before I make another mistake and go for round two.
When I turn back around she’s already dressed and fixing her hair. She looks at my reflection in the mirror and says, “So, I think we need to keep this little bathroom romp to ourselves? Oh, and I don’t think we should repeat this.”
I snicker. I’m not used to having women tell me that. “No repetitions.”
She nods, but I can see her struggling to smother her smile. “None what so ever.”
We both know that’s a total lie, and I’m surprisingly happy about that. Guess I was adding another secret to my list.
Sonya Jesus
Sonya’s a science nerd who decided to give into her creative fictional side in order to balance out the non-fictional scientific side of her PhD. She doesn´t have much free time, but she spends it enjoying her family and friends, watching Netflix and playing with her dogs.
Other Works
Find other Dragon Introductions in the following Anthologies:
Christmas Kisses Anthology: Ryder & Kiera
Lovestruck Anthology: Hailee, Daxton, & Aysen
The Knights Series
Knights After My Heart
Knights Who Stole My Heart
Knights Who Broke My Heart (Release July 2018)
Knights Book 4 (T.B.A)
Works in Progress:
Sing to Me (Fall 2018)
The Dragon Series (Spring 2019)
Links
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSonyaJesus/
Website: http://www.sonyajesus.com
Carnival of Love
By A. E. Gamrat
Del and I have been best friends forever, acquaintances now. The last night of carnival week is a big deal for our small town and Del will be there. I’m going to wear a scorching hot outfit and he will notice. No more little sister image.
My crush is reaching new heights and tonight I’m not letting anything stop me from getting what I want.
Copyright © 2018 A. E. Gamrat
1
Why I let my best friend drag me to another yearly carnival outing is beyond me. Not too long ago, we lived for these weeks of nonstop carnival rides and greasy food. Now everything seems to be a little less grand and a lot greasier. I know I'm a glutton for punishment when it comes to this woman, but somehow when she says we need to do an activity, I always follow along. We might still be trying to hold on to our youth with these annual outings, but I'm pleading the fifth.
As kids living close to the beach and boardwalk, it meant no family vacations for us. Who knows if my parents could afford them or not, but they always used the excuse "you are at the beach a few times a week, and there is no need for a vacation to another beach." I can't complain though because, out of all my friends' parents, mine were the only ones who religiously went with us and actually had fun playing in the ocean and sand.
Now here we are, graduates of our state college, ready to start our adult jobs in a few weeks, and I'm stressing over my wardrobe to go to the last night of this year's carnival. Standing in front of my closest makes me sad, seriously sad. I've always been the t-shirt and jeans kind of girl, tanks and jean shorts in the summer. My dirty blond hair has always had its own style, meaning it does what it wants when it wants. Air drying with a little mousse is my morning routine, and if it gets cold enough, maybe a few minutes with a blow dryer. Again, my hair has its own brain, and styling does nothing but stress me out.
Sass, my best friend, will likely be here any minute, and throw a shit fit seeing that I'm not ready. The last night of the carnival is serious business. Sass is a true small-town girl just like me but with more style and flair. Always invited to the coolest parties, everyone wanted to be her friend. I'm sure some viewed her as stuck-up and se
lf-centered, but her close circle of friends know she is great and loves everyone's company. Plus, she loves to talk, simple as that. When I get bored or tired of talking, she steps in and takes over for me.
Growing up on the same street, our families always hung out, which sort of helped form our bond at a young age. Her brothers used to tag along until it was uncool to hang with your sister and her friends. I always thought we were cool, but sibling rivalry in that house is strong, even to this day. I mean who wouldn't want to hang out with two cute girls who like to run around outside all day and could care less about girly things? Who doesn't want a girl who rolls around in the mud for fun? I am more than game to get dirty rather than go shopping and have a complete makeover.
"Girl," Sass shouts, walking into my bedroom. "You’d better be putting together something other than a tank and jean shorts. This is the last day of the carnival. We are becoming adults after this."
"Uh, we are adults already, Sass; I’m sorry to tell you. Whether tonight happens is not going to change our adult status."
I'm fine with being an adult. Sass on the other hand, well, we try not to use the "A" word around her. The high-pitched screeching that comes out of her mouth is a level only dogs can hear. She was always like this though. She wanted all the parties, gifts, and accolades of growing up but never actually wanted to grow up. You have to walk a very fine line with her when talking about gifts, skirting the actual reason for them.
"We are not adults until we actually get utility bills in the mail with our names on them. I am still a pre-adult learning to become an adult," she says, flopping back onto my bed. "Plus, everyone who is anyone is going to be there tonight, and rumor has it there might actually be fireworks on the beach."
"Can you picture all that fun then topping it off with a fine man keeping you warm underneath the stars and fireworks? Maybe some touching, kissing....hmmm…"
"Sassy, you better stop daydreaming about naughty sex on my bed." She can't stand to be called Sassy. The daydream did sound yummy though. It's been a while since I had a man's attention of any kind. Either I'm too much of a tomboy for them, or basically, I’m not high maintenance enough for them. I’ve been around a few who took longer to get ready in a single morning than every morning of my week combined.
"Bags, you know you like it and hope for the same happy ending as me," She says while giving me those you know I'm right eyes.
Of course, when I pull out her hated nickname mine comes out in full swing and really which one is worse Bags or Sassy? I added a "y" to the end of hers, which I think it makes it sound fun and her little brother George couldn't say Mags, so of course he called me Bags and of course it stuck. George seriously was the cutest little boy, so how can you get mad at a shaggy haired, dopey eyed three-year-old trying to say your name. Never in a million years, did I think it the nickname would stick around for 15 years or more.
"Hey, how has George been? I haven't seen him in a long time or even heard from him." It is so unlike him. To George, he has two sisters and keeps both of us up-to-date with his life
"Oh, you know George, one minute he won't shut up about his life, and then the next minute, he's silent as a ghost. Pretty sure he'll be there tonight with Del and some of their boys."
"Ah, so the whole pack will be together for this closing season? I've sort of been missing George but keep forgetting to call him too." I sigh, looking into my closet. "Nothing is going to work, and I refuse to wear heels there; besides it's crap to walk around in flats, let alone heels." Although the boardwalk is cared for, it's old and there are uneven boards everywhere. If everyone who is anyone is going to be there tonight, I want to be able to walk and talk and not make an ass out of myself more than I already do.
Sass is staring at me with her mouth open in shock. My stand on footwear shouldn't be this shocking to her. I'm always for comfort over style. "What's going on? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You like George?" she blurts out, covering her mouth in shock at the question she just screamed at me. It's now my turn to stare at her with my mouth wide open.
"You are absolutely crazy, you know that? I love George, but in absolutely no way do I LIKE him. He's our baby brother, for god’s sake," I say, shaking my head at her. George is the baby of the family. Because he has been babied beyond belief, he is out of control. These are two traits that I can't deal with and why we go head-to-head in battle a lot. He always thinks he's right and should get his way. I tell him when he's wrong, and no one should always get their way.
I want a man, and I'm not just talking about a good-looking guy, but a real man. I want someone who will challenge me on a regular basis, take care of me or at least try, and work for everything he wants in life. George is great but doesn't have the relationship material that I want.
Del, on the other hand, could probably be everything I want and would make me happy in every facet of my life, but he wants nothing to do with us anymore. Sure, he does all the required family get-togethers and will hang for a while, but once we hit high school level, he drifted away. Won't lie and say it didn't bother me because it broke my heart, but that's life. When you aren't blood, feelings can start to change and might not match how the other feels.
Absolutely no one knows of my crush that I still harbor for him and the hurt I felt when he started to distance himself from us. I don't know how Sass would feel about my feelings because Del, to her, is the annoying older brother, always keeping us in line and making sure everyone stays out of trouble. He is always right, and we are always wrong, no matter what. Sort of sounds like George, but Del doesn't throw fits when he is wrong and has no problem asserting his power over us.
Don't even get me started on how he handled, still handles, Sass and I dating guys. No one is good enough for either of us and never will be. I really have no clue about his life other than I know he's had girlfriends in the past, but none of them were ever serious. So, at times, his bullheadedness seemed to stem from how he treated girls and didn't want that for us. Sometimes he just seems to be a big brother who doesn’t want to see his sisters in any kind of physical relationship.
One hot evening after a home football game, I kissed Johnny Stype in the school's parking lot. I had a really big crush on him for a long time. So, when he asked me if he could walk me to my car, of course, I said yes. When his lines of want started to flow from his mouth while caressing my cheeks, I started to melt for him. Next, he lightly grazed his lips over mine, and yes, I lost it.
I began making out with Johnny, and his hand was slowly creeping up my belly underneath my shirt. He was pulling moans from me like never before and sounds I didn't even know I could make. In the next instant, he was gone. Del smashed him up against my car, and instead of screaming in his face, growled out some words that I couldn't even hear. I got the gist of it though. As soon as Del let him go, Johnny, the supposed MAN, took off to his car and never looked back.
So, there I was, trying to calm my raging hormones down from the hot moment Johnny and I were having and also trying not to kill this idiot standing in front of me for interrupting us, causing Johnny to run away. I knew he felt like he had to protect all of us since he was the oldest; however, this was the first time he stepped in like that with me.
Guess you could say that was the first, and only time, I made out with some random guy in public. I would make those mistakes behind closed doors after that embarrassing night. Not only did he chase Johnny away, but I then received a lecture for a good half-hour on guys’ intentions--how they only want one thing from a girl and letting them get away with it makes them more entitled. The whole time he wagged his pointer finger in my face, all I wanted to do was grab on to it and bend it back but refrained knowing the takedown it would lead to. Growing up together, roughhousing was not uncommon.
"Earth to Mags, Earth to Mags. Where did you just go?" Sass says, glaring at me. I know she thinks I'm thinking about her younger brother, when, in actuality, I was thinking about the older one.
"Oh, thinking about when we all used to hang out. Nothing major. Seems like a long time ago that we were all together for an entire evening." Del had been drifting away from us for a while before the incident with Johnny, but after that night, he was nonexistent unless it was a family function.
For a moment after that night, I thought maybe he liked me a little more than a sister or friend, but once he went radio silent again, I pushed all those feelings way down deep and locked them up tight. I always assumed my infatuation for him was because of our close relationship. We really did get along well, or at least I thought we always did.
Two years, though, is a big difference in high school years. We were the little brats following him around and getting in his way. All the girls wanted him and hated when we were around. I know for a fact he kept us away from them saying "You don't need to be influenced by those girls." Guess he could do god-knows-what with them, but it would be blasphemy if we hung out with them and possibly even turned into them.
Once George turned 17, Del allowed him into his group of friends, and then Sass and I were the outcasts. Even Sass noticed the shade thrown at us when "the boys" were going out. At this one party, luckily, we saw them first, and we avoided them for at least an hour, if not two.
There were three kinds of people at the party that night: 1) friends of ours who didn't know the guys at all, 2) people who knew the guys but would never actually go up to them and rat us out, and 3) people who knew the guys and how much trouble we would be in when they found out.
Who knows how they actually found out about us, but it didn't end well, especially since George was younger than us but allowed to stay. Sass left crying, and I told them all to f-off. They were acting like a bunch of male chauvinist pigs that night and telling us how it wasn’t right for us to be there, but A-Okay for George.
