Post Breakup Sex

by Sibylla Matilde

  “You’re wearing shorts,” I groaned, “and that’s only like half a shirt.”

  “I have a jacket on, too,” she smiled, running her fingertips down the zipper of the black leather jacket she wore, grazing the soft flesh exposed by the low-cut shirt underneath. “And these socks are really warm.”

  They made me warm. Fuck, they made me hotter than hell. I actually broke into a sweat just looking at her. The ‘socks’ went up past her knees to mid-thigh, leaving a fair amount of skin between them and the faded, frayed denim. More skin showed between the low rise of her shorts and the high rise of her shirt, if that could even be called a shirt. I was pretty sure that, if she lifted her arms, her tits would pop out for all the world to see.

  I loved it.

  But I hated it, too, because every motherfucking asshole in the Copperline was going to be staring at her. And half the chicks.

  She was really that fucking hot.

  “Fucking hell, Sophie,” I said gruffly, tucking my hands under her jacket to rest at the warm bare skin of her waist, “with you looking like this, I’m gonna end up in a fight tonight.”

  She bit her lip and slid her arms around my neck, pressing her body up against mine.

  “I guess you’ll just have to keep me really close then,” she murmured with a sinful smile as she lightly kissed my lips and led me towards the dance floor.

  As the night wore on, we stood just offstage watching the Mofos bang away at their set. Sophie leaned back against me and reached up to slide her hand around the back of my head. Standing so close to the speakers, yet just off to the side, we felt the music as much as we heard it. And Sophie seemed to really be feeling it.

  I wrapped my arms around her, tucking my hands under her short little white tank to lay flat against her bare stomach, and placed a soft kiss just below her ear. With the responding nudge of her sweet, curvy ass so deliciously pressed up against my dick, I nuzzled her neck firmly and nipped at her skin with my teeth.

  Sophie’s fingers wound into the hair on the back of my head and pulled, silently begging for more.

  There were people all around, but all pretty much focused on the stage in front of us. On the kick-ass performance of the band. I guided Sophie a step or two back into the thick velvety curtains that had been gathered along the side of the stage. Just barely in the shadows, illuminated only by the flashing lights that pulsed to the pounding beat.

  “I want to make you come, Sophie,” I growled into her ear. “Right here, right now.”

  Sophie’s free hand covered one of mine at her waist. Her body shivered as she clutched it against her bare midriff, then she rubbed her bottom against my dick again and nudged my hand towards the waistband of her shorts.

  “I brought a little something,” I murmured, a hint of a smile touching my lips. Unfastening the buttons of her shorts with one hand, I reached into my jacket pocket with the other for the little bullet vibe I’d picked up earlier in the day. It was cool to the touch, and Sophie shivered as I pressed it against her bare stomach and moved it down to slip it into her silky little panties.

  And she let me. Right there, just barely off stage, in front of God and everyone.

  “Bran—” she started, and abruptly stopped as I slid the bullet down into position against her swollen clit.

  “Shh… Just relax, baby. Let me light you up.”

  With a tap of my thumb, it began to vibrate.

  Sophie squeaked a little at the first movements as I palmed it against her clit, using my fingers to sweep into her wetness and tickle her ever so slightly inside.

  “Shh… there are people all around us, Soph,” I grunted into her ear.

  I felt her excitement building as ripples of pleasure began to pulse through her body. Her head fell back against my chest, eyes closed, and she moaned a deep and throaty sound into my ear. The little movements of her body against mine were beginning to make the crotch of my jeans almost painfully tight.

  “You have to be still, baby. Act natural.”

  Sophie turned her head, pressing her face into my neck, right up along my tattoo. I felt the flutter of her eyelashes brush along the ink, almost a sign.

  Do or Die.

  Fuck yeah.

  From the outside, I was doing everything I could to appear unaffected. Like I was just standing around backstage with my arms around my girl.

  On the inside, though I was raging with a fierce, aching burn. It built and pulsed through me, and every squirm of her ass against my throbbing cock intensified the frenzied need.

  A throaty groan escaped my lips, and I pressed them harder against the warm skin of her neck to muffle the sound, biting into the soft flesh.

  The lights flashed, the guys banged out a heady, soulful song, and I brought her to the peak in the same room as a hundred other people. As her body began to shake, as her orgasm overtook her, Sophie’s knees began to give out. I held her tightly against me, taking all her weight as she exploded onto my hand. I felt the rush of her wetness, and my mouth watered to taste her. I was tempted to pull her back farther into the curtains, to throw her to the floor and bury my face between her legs until she was screaming my name.

  That image alone damn near made me lose it. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that Sophie would likely get a shitload of flak from her folks if she ended up in jail for indecency.

  I flicked off the vibe and held my hand against her for a moment longer, allowing her to float back into consciousness. My fingers moved slowly, soothing the rigid tension from her body, swirling through the soft, wet flesh.

  “Fuck, I love to watch you come,” I whispered harshly in her ear.

  Hidden in the curtains like we were, anyone who glanced at us would have only seen her face pressed against my neck, my arms tightly wrapped around her. Sweet and protective. But knowing it was so much more, that I had just done so much more to her and nobody around us knew any better… that had made it all the more mind-numbing.

  “What about you?” Sophie breathed into my ear, catching the ring in her lips and pulling ever so slightly.

  God. My dick throbbed.

  I wanted inside her so badly that I could barely think. She stood a little on her own weight, pulling away a bit to turn and look up at me. As I slid my hand from her panties, I showed her the small shiny, teal-blue vibe that I’d just used on her.

  “I’ll just have to settle for a quick taste,” I replied, locking onto her gaze and holding it steady as I brought the vibe to my lips and licked it.

  Sophie’s tongue swept across her lower lip, and her eyes went dark and sultry while she watched me, standing on tiptoe to taste my lips as I tucked the vibe back in my jacket pocket.

  “I want to taste you,” she whispered.

  “God, Soph,” I growled, “don’t say that. I’m about to blow as it is.”

  She pressed her body against mine, squirming to get closer, and her fingertips carefully undid the top fastened button of my shirt. Her lips trailed down my neck, sucking at my flesh, and my jaw clenched tight as I tried desperately to rein it in.

  “Please,” she murmured against my flesh, “please, Bran. I want to taste you. I want to feel the slide of your cock in my mouth.”

  Oh fuck. Dirty talking Sophie did it. It was all her fault. I could sort of resist sweet Sophie. It was much harder to resist passionate Sophie. But dirty talking Sophie was like fucking kryptonite on my resolve.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her behind me towards the back door to the small lot behind the bar. Towards the Cougar, parked there waiting patiently like an oasis in a fucking desert. I quickly threw open the passenger door and Sophie leapt inside, watching me with a hot gaze as I strode around to the driver side and climbed in.

  She literally attacked the fly of my jeans the minute I sat down, ripping them open and freeing my dick to the chilly fall night. Her lips were so close that I could feel her ragged breathing while she stroked my length with an excruciating slow push and pull.


  “I love your cock,” she whispered, and then lowered her lips.

  Holy fuck.

  I think I blacked out for a moment at the first hot, wet touch of her lips. She took only a little at first, swirling her tongue around the tip and moaning deep in her throat. Then she took more of me, clear to the back of her throat, sucking gently as she grasped the base and pulled it down.

  It was like a religious experience. Like the rapture or some shit. My body jolted with every little swipe of her tongue and my hips thrust up into her mouth, fucking those beautiful lips.

  I hit her gag reflex, and she brought her head up just a touch, panting rapidly, before inhaling deeply as she went back in for more. Like she was starving for me. I did everything I could to hold still and take it, to let her devour me until I exploded down her throat. She explored with her tongue, trailing every ridge and vein and curve of my dick. She was fascinated by it, coming up for air and then attacking it with a renewed force. My fingers wound through her long, tangled waves.

  Unable to control it, I began to thrust again, and Sophie moved along with me, sliding her lips up and down on my dick, squeezing around it with her fingers as she began to move faster.

  I tried to warn her I was coming, but she resisted my attempts to pull her away. Instead, she took me deeper, and the vibrations from her moan tore away the last shred of restraint I had. Sophie didn’t pull back. She didn’t turn away. She savored me, licking and softly coaxing every drop from my body.

  I sort of melted into the seat as she lifted her head to look at me.

  “You’re delicious,” she whispered wickedly, her lips red from the friction of what was truly a pretty fucking amazing blowjob.

  My hands were still tangled in her hair, and I cupped her face and brought her lips to mine. She leaned over the small center console, deepening the kiss, and I could taste just the faintest salty tinge in her mouth. The taste of my own cum. It was erotic and powerful, and I lost myself in that kiss.

  A banging on the window beside me jarred me from my Eden. The windows had fogged, so I brushed some away to see Denny and Justin grinning through at us.

  “Brannon, you hoor’s melt,” Denny laughed, “if I’d have known you were going to come out here and get laid, I’d have taken a break to come watch.”

  I glared at him as I tucked myself back into my jeans, looking over at Sophie who was still fighting off the haze of our passion. She also looked just a little bit mortified about where we were and what we’d just done.

  “I’ll get them out of here, Soph,” I muttered. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I kinda got carried away.”

  Her eyes slanted up at me, a scant hint of a smile touching those exquisite lips.

  “Get out here, asswipe,” Justin hollered, “time to break down the equipment.”

  “Give me a minute, fuckhead,” I growled back.

  “I’ll help,” Sophie giggled. “The faster we get this done, the faster we can go back to your place and get naked.”

  “Jesus, how in the fuck do you do that?” I laughed. “I just came so hard that I’d have figured I wouldn’t want sex again for a week. But now I’m going to be taking all that shit down with a rager of a hardon.”

  “Well, let’s get to work,” she laughed, giving me a hard, fast kiss before she opened her door and climbed out of the car.

  Stepping out into the night, I glowered at Denny and Justin with a sullen frown. “Fuckers,” I muttered. “Can’t a guy get a nobber in peace around here?”

  Justin chuckled and slapped me on the back. “Well, fuck, Brannon,” he laughed, “the least you could do was to invite us to join you.”

  I shot him another dirty look as I stepped over to Sophie and threw my arm over her shoulders to pull her close.

  “Yeah, ya right bastard,” Denny agreed. “I’ve seen you in action a few times, Bran, but, good God, Sophie,” Denny grinned, “I’ve never seen anything like you two together.”

  “Denny!” Sophie gasped in outrage and sheer mortification. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “What, Sophie? Yer a fine bitta stuff,” he laughed. “It was all I could do not to toss off all over you two.”

  Sophie turned in my arms, burying her head against my chest. “Kill me now,” she murmured. “Oh jeez, just kill me now.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t join in?” Justin stared at Denny incredulously. “Fuck, I’d have been all over that.”

  “That’s your deal, not mine, Justin,” Denny shook his head with a wide smile. “I prefer my sex one-on-one. Besides, Brannon doesn’t go for that type of thing, right, Brannon?” He looked over at me, then back to his band mate. “But let me tell you, it was a sight to behold.”

  “Oh God,” Sophie groaned into my shirt, as though she was hoping the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

  “Dude, you’re so missing out,” Justin said, raising his eyebrows at me. “Nothing in the world like a little dual penetration.”

  Sophie lifted her head and looked up at me. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were hot again. “Dual penetration?” she whispered so softly that only I could hear as Denny and Justin continued their debate behind her.

  A slow smile began to form on my face, and I winked at her. “We’ll work up to that, baby,” I murmured back, and her fingers dug into my arm at my husky words.

  Denny and Justin were still arguing over the pros and cons of joining in, or just wanking, as Denny said with that Irish accent of his. They continued their debate the whole time we loaded up the equipment into the back of Denny’s beat-to-shit old pickup. Some of it was hilarious, if not a little disconcerting to Sophie, which, in itself, was hilarious.

  “Okay, I’ll bet you,” I overheard Denny saying as Sophie and I headed outside with the last of the equipment.

  “Fine,” replied Justin. “I’ll take that bet. Loser gets wanker tattooed on their arm.”

  “Their wanking arm,” laughed Cody.

  “I hope you’ve got a spot ready, Justin,” Denny smiled, as though he’d already won whatever they were betting. “Ya haven’t got a baldy.”

  “A baldy?” Sophie asked as she handed a small box to Denny.

  “Means isna gonna happen like,” Denny replied.

  “What isn’t going to happen,” she asked with her brows drawn together in confusion.

  He looked down at her for a moment, his face tinged with guilt as though he’d just gotten caught doing something wrong. But just a second, and then he recovered, taking the box of cables from Sophie. “Nothing’s gonna happen. Princess,” he said, and grinned at Justin. “Nothing at all.”

  As Denny secured the pickup topper and walked to the driver door to climb in, Justin stood trailing his finger through the dust and grime along the side. Sophie and I settled into the Cougar, and she half snorted a laugh, then burst into a fit of giggles when she saw what Justin had written in the dirt.

  “Denny’s gonna kick his ass,” I chuckled.

  “Should you tell him or wipe it off or something so he doesn’t drive around like that?” Sophie asked as she tried to subdue her laughter.

  “No,” I said, and gave her a wicked grin. “I’m more interested in getting you home and, what was that you said? Oh yeah, that’s right… getting naked.”

  With that, my Cougar roared to life, and we hauled ass to get home. Nakedness awaited us.

  The second Friday in November brought snow. Thick, fluffy flakes that blanketed the ground overnight. When I’d woken up to it, I’d immediately blown off work and called Sophie to see if she wanted to go for a snowmobile ride. As I waited out in front of her apartment building, my ears were still ringing from the excited squeal she’d let out.

  I’d been a little surprised. She’s been under her mother’s thumb the past few days after being guilted into helping arrange some hospital benefit. The last couple weeks had been a bit of a clandestine affair. She made up excuses why she couldn’t be wi
th her family while she was working. Their own social life generally kept them from being too concerned when she spent time with me on the weekends, except duty seemed to be calling a little more lately as the holidays were approaching and all the planning for big holiday fundraisers began.

  And they seemed to find a great deal of importance in being giving to the less fortunate. Granted, just about everyone was less fortunate than the Buchanans, but there seemed to be a lot of emphasis placed on being noticeably charitable to organizations that touched people’s hearts and pocketbooks. Animal shelters and children’s hospitals. Puppies and babies. Great organizations that surely benefited from the donations they received, but also ones that were run by people with clout. People who made a show of the generosity with lots of ribbon cutting ceremonies and photo ops. Sophie’s mom and dad front and center holding up a big check. So philanthropic.

  So fake.

  Because I saw how little they really cared when I looked in Sophie’s eyes. When I made comments about how funny she could be, and her initial shock left no doubt as to the rarity of a compliment that didn’t center around how she looked. Or how kind she could be when it was truly obvious that she wasn’t doing it for the accolades. Or how quickly she picked up on the nuances of helping manage Lily’s shop and her rapport with the customers.

  And her ability to handle the stressors of what was, essentially, a double life.

  “It’s so pretty!” Sophie cried as she skipped down the sidewalk towards my pickup. The Cougar was blanketed and packed away for winter, safe and sound in the back of my grampa’s shop. While my pickup was far from an old classic, it was hardly new either. Fairly basic, reliable and heavy duty four-wheel-drive that could easily get me in and out of the mountains to play in the snow. I’d loaded my old Artic Cat in the back, thrown in a thermos of coffee, flavored with some sugar and cream and a touch of Jameson, to help ward off the chill. Sophie offered to bring a few sandwiches and a bag of chips, and she tossed them onto the bench seat of the pickup before climbing in.