Learning to Like It

by Adams, Laurel

  But Jenny had her arms around me and her tongue in my mouth before we even got in the door. We hadn't kissed before, not mouth to mouth, and the intensity of it—the feel of her tongue darting between my lips—gave me a serious high. She was all over me, her hands under my skirt, her body rocking me back against the wall of her entryway.

  "Whoa," Chad said, both in surprise and in warning.

  Jenny was only a little chagrinned. "I don't like to wait," Jenny breathed, her mouth smeared with my lipstick. "And I don't like to be teased. I spend all night every night in that club, getting guys off. But when I take someone home, I get what I want. You're going to give it to me, Kim, aren't you? Because you don't get to come again until I do."

  ~~~

  I'd fallen under some kind of spell. I let Jenny draw me down with her onto the couch, shaking with desire, and a little embarrassment too that Chad was watching this. I felt like I was still putting on some kind of show, like in the club, and it gave me pause. What if I did something to piss my boyfriend off?

  Chad took an armchair near the sofa without being invited, the hardness of his erection pressing reassuringly against his pants. "Mind if I smoke?" he asked Jenny.

  "Yeah, I do," she replied. "But given how nervous your girlfriend is, I'd say you've never done this before, and since you're willing to make an exception, I will too."

  Chad grinned and lit up.

  Meanwhile, Jenny crept closer to me and a spark ignited between us. A rush of heat flowed through my veins. "I'm going to kiss you again, Kim. But this time, slow and wet and like I want to get you into bed. Because that's what I want. I want to fuck you, Kim…"

  Could women do that to one another? I mean, I knew what women supposedly did together, but did that count as fucking and did it matter? Taking a drag from his glowing cigarette, Chad gave me a look of reassurance . . . and encouragement. He wanted me to do it. He wanted me. Both of them did.

  And that made me feel like the center of the universe!

  Jenny scooted a little closer and she smelled like coconuts. She'd showered off the glitter and sweat from the club, and now her skin was even lovelier. Like make-believe. I wasn't even sure this moment was real. I quickly wetted my lips with nervous assent, my hands clasped in my lap. Jenny's fingernails traced the curve of my cheek before pressing her lips to mine, plump and soft. She used them to tease me, tickling the corners of my mouth until I gasped.

  With a wicked grin, she asked, "Did you ever fantasize about being with a girl before?"

  I wasn't sure how she found a way to speak because I was breathless. "No—Not…I hadn't really thought about it."

  Chad exhaled a little smoke. "But now she's going to for sure. Kim's a little bit innocent…"

  "We're going to change that tonight," Jenny said, letting her hand drift over my shoulder in a caress, then down to my nipple and giving it a pinch. The jolt of arousal she sent through me was so strong that I moaned. Then Jenny batted her eyelashes. "You've probably heard that girls are soft and pretty and gentle together. But I'm not going to be gentle with you, Kim…"

  I felt suddenly like her prey. Jenny palmed both my breasts, squeezing them to the point of pain. "It feels good, doesn't it? You like it. Your nipples are getting harder just thinking about how I'm going to pinch and pull at them. They're going to hurt. They're going to ache when we're done. You want that, don't you?"

  "Yes," I whispered, because I was so mesmerized I couldn't think to lie.

  Jenny and I kissed again, her body pressed tight to me, her fingers sliding up the other thigh. "Open your legs for me," she said, and when I hesitated, she asked, "Don't you want me to touch your pussy, Kim?"

  "Oh god." It wasn't an answer, but she tilted my head back and kissed her way down my throat, biting me there until I moaned out my consent. I wanted her. I wanted her to touch me. My body throbbed with this unfamiliar craving just as I parted my knees, and her nails dragged up my thigh, slipping into my panties to play with my pussy.

  She moaned, too, at the touch of me, and that emboldened me to touch her. Tentatively, I reached out and squeezed at her round breasts, until she leveled me with a stare. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch," she scolded. "You earn that, Kim. For now, you keep kissing me and let me play with your wet, swollen little cunt."

  She was teasing me, fluttering her fingers in a quick way that Chad had never done before. And when I looked at my boyfriend, as if for guidance, I saw that his eyes were half-closed with arousal, a spot of wetness on his pants from where his pre-cum was starting to leak. He was excited. Intensely excited, and that, in turn, excited me.

  Jenny and I kissed harder, teeth and lips smashing together. Then she yanked down my gown, exposing my small breasts. I wasn't wearing a bra—seldom needed one. But the sensation I felt when she dipped her head to catch my nipple between her teeth nearly made me wilt back on the sofa. Oh, the scrape of her teeth on sensitive flesh…she was definitely going to make me sore. And somehow, I still wanted more of it. I moaned into her mouth and I arched against her hand, giving myself over to the experience. "Oh god, I'm going to—"

  Slap.

  I saw stars when I realized Jenny slapped at my pussy. "No, Kim. Don't you dare. I told you, you're not going to come until I do. You just have to hold it back."

  I'd never tried that before, and I was so close to the edge now I whimpered with desperation. I couldn't believe it was a woman doing this to me. Jenny drew her fingers to her mouth and tasted me on them. "You're a sweet girl, Kim. And in the club, when you were paying for me, you and your boyfriend got to call the shots. But not here. You're in Jenny's world now."

  I felt shameless, more needy than I'd ever been. So I didn't resist when she pushed against my shoulders, trying to put me on my knees. I glance up in shock when she laced her fingers through my hair and spread her legs in invitation. "Kiss me, Kim. Kiss my pussy."

  "Oh, god." That's all I could think to say, because suddenly I wasn't so sure about any of this.

  "Go on," she said, but I couldn't do it.

  It wasn't the first time I saw her naked, sparkling, privates—but what she was asking me to do…

  I didn't know what to do and gave a nervous shake of my head. This wasn't me. I wasn't the kind of girl who…"Listen, Jenny, I—I don't mind the kissing and the touching and the making out, but…"

  Her eyes narrowed on me, and she gave me a wicked grin. "But what?"

  "But I'm not sure I'm going to like this."

  My protest didn't phase her at all. "Well, if you want to come again tonight, then you'd better learn to like it. Because unless your face is buried between my thighs, that's all you're getting tonight."

  This flattened me. I slumped down feeling totally submissive to her. My own sexual appetite made me want to want to do whatever she said, but I glanced at Chad. He wasn't any help. Straining and flushed with his own arousal, he gave me a shrug as if to say that it was all up to me.

  Leaning forward, I kissed her between her thighs, tentatively, warily. She tasted clean, like soap from her shower. A little salty, too. But those little kisses weren't enough for her. Jenny tugged me against her, saying, "That's nice, but not what I want. Use your tongue."

  I was terrified to do it, but curious too. So I closed my eyes and let my tongue slide gently between her folds. "You can do better," she whispered, tugging on my hair.

  And when I swept my tongue over her little clit ring, letting it play with the metal there, she yanked my hair and said, "Good. More."

  She was rough with me, and I liked it. Being on my knees, in her apartment, on her wool carpet, with my face caught between her long legs made it easier for me to do what I was doing. I licked her, moving my tongue faster and harder, the taste of her in my mouth and the scent of her in my nostrils. And as I started to give myself over to it, Jenny, purred. "That's a good girl. You're definitely learning. You like it, don't you?"

  I wanted to deny it, but when I paused to answer, she dug her nail
s into my scalp. "Don't you dare stop. Did I tell you that you could stop?"

  She was hurting me but somehow that made it easier. I didn't have to think about whether or not what I was doing was right, or what it meant, or if I liked it. I only had to worry about pleasing her. It stripped me bare, and gave me permission to lose myself between her thighs, licking, and sucking, and trying to keep up with her as she began to grind her cunt against my face.

  "You like it," she said again, and I felt as if she could make me like it.

  As if maybe she could make me love it.

  I wanted to get off, and that meant that I had to get her off, so I worked my tongue furiously over her clit, but I swear she held back. She wanted me to work for it. And she told me so. "That's good. Oh, yeah. That's a good little cunt-licker. I'm so close, I could flood your tongue, but I'm not ready yet. I want you to squeeze your own nipples until they hurt, and I want you to eat me out until your tongue is sore."

  At hearing that, my boyfriend let out a sigh. I heard his zipper go down. He was touching himself now, I was sure of it, and I wanted to turn and see, but Jenny had fists of my hair in her hand and was writhing on the couch, scraping my cheeks with her pussy jewelry.

  I wasn't sure I'd ever known what it felt like to be fucked before, but now I did feel it, because she was definitely using my mouth. And the longer it went on, the more I liked it. It didn't matter that my mouth was sore. I just wanted to make her come and I, myself, was desperate.

  When my tongue slowed down, Jenny cruelly yanked on my hair. "More, Kim. You do it right. Do it like you mean it. Make me come. Because I'm not going to give it to you. You're going to have to make it happen."

  I pushed my tongue up inside her, then. I used my fingers, too. Everything became about her pussy. I worshipped it in those moments. I fingered her, licked her, nibbled at her clit ring. And I broke into a sweat doing it, because I'd never been so turned on before in my life. My reward? Pretty little cries as she squeezed her thighs round my ears, trapping me there so I could feel the contractions on my lips and tongue as she writhed in pleasure.

  She came and came, screaming my name. Which made me feel inordinately proud.

  But when she was done, she didn't let me go. "Now your boyfriend can get you off if he wants to," she said, throatily. "But your mouth never leaves my pussy."

  Chad was behind me in a flash. I couldn't see his expression, because Jenny still had me between her legs, slowly pumping on my tongue as if to squeeze every last bit of pleasure out of her orgasm. But I felt him behind me. He grabbed my hips with force, nearly tearing my soaked panties off me in his haste to get them down. Then I felt him shove roughly into my sopping hole, forcing my face against Jenny's belly.

  I made a muffled sound of pleasure, but Jenny dragged me by the hair back down again, so that I could lick at her clit, and suck the little ring into my mouth, almost nursing on it while my boyfriend thrusted into me. I'd never had an orgasm just from him fucking me before—but this time I didn't even need him to touch my clit.

  The feel of my boyfriend's cock pressing into me, the sensation of being trapped between him and Jenny, was more than I could handle. It was the most exquisitely pleasurable torture I'd ever endured. And I began screaming out my orgasm as I convulsed around his cock. I felt like a toy, a well-used toy for both of them, and I just kept coming, drowning in pleasure, until both of them did the same.

  After, the three of us lay panting on Jenny's soft white rug, in various states of undress.

  Chad and I were staring into each other's eyes, our relationship strangely strengthened by what we'd just done together. But I felt a connection to Jenny, too. "So, now what?" I asked, shyly. "What does this mean?"

  "I think it means you like girls," Jenny said. "Or at least, you like me."

  "Is that…is that going to be a problem?" I asked, glancing at Chad.

  "Not for me," he said, and I kind of fell in love with him all over again.

  "We're going to do this again," Jenny said. "A lot more. So why don't you call me."

  I blushed. "Um, I don't have your number."

  Jenny rolled over, took a marker from her purse, and wrote her phone number on a dollar bill that she slipped teasingly into my panties. "Now you do."

  DEAR READERS

  Thank you for reading Learning to Like It!

  The characters in this story engage in some risky behavior and make some questionable decisions; it should go without saying that this behavior is not to be encouraged in real life. But that's the beauty of fiction; they can do this, and we can enjoy thinking about them doing it, without anyone getting hurt. So I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did, please help other readers find this book by writing an honest review and publish it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, and other sites frequented by readers like you. Also, please keep an eye out for the next story in the series, so you can enjoy the continued adventures.

  Meanwhile, please enjoy this excerpt from Borrowed by the Billionaire.

  EXCERPT

  BORROWED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

  Laurel Adams

  ~~~

  Sex between us has always been good. My husband loves my long legs and toned body; I love that he works as hard as he plays. Living in a McMansion in the suburbs, we know plenty of people who never take sex out of their bedrooms, but Dan and I tend to drop down and do it wherever we are and whenever the mood hits us.

  Lately, that's all the time.

  Ever since Dan got his dream job as a Chief Information Officer working for the enigmatic bachelor billionaire Lane Kenyon, sex has become my husband's favorite way to work off the stress. I'm more than happy to oblige, because, my husband is the most ambitious man I've ever met. And hey, don't good wives do anything they can to help their husbands get ahead?

  This morning Dan gulps down his morning coffee while flipping through his appointment book, and I decide that the breakfast dishes can wait; the kitchen table is sturdy enough for a quickie. Given how tense his shoulders are, I can see that he needs one. But when I start to undo his belt, Dan looks down at my red-painted nails and sighs. "You're going to make me late."

  "Oh, no," I say, with mock horror. "If you get in trouble with your boss, I guess you'll have to blame it on me. Just tell him that your wife likes to be well-fed and well-fucked each morning."

  Dan smirks. "You're only teasing, I know, but you'd be surprised at how some of the men at the office talk about their wives."

  "You've got the best wife, though," I say. "So, if you're late to work and your boss wants to punish someone for it, feel free to give him my name and number…"

  My husband laughs, a little charmed, I think, at my wanton nature. He knows how sexy I think his boss is—but then, every woman on the planet lusts after Lane Kenyon, so it's become a little joke between us. And since we've been trying for a baby, whatever fantasy works to keep things fresh is fine with him.

  Letting my bathrobe fall slightly open, I go to my knees and start caressing my husband's cock through his slacks. He groans in mild protest, shifting in his chair, "Jessie, I've got to get going."

  But I'm determined. "Surely there are perks to being one of the youngest high powered executives in the business. Being able to roll into work late has to be one of them." I bend over and rub my cheek against the hardness of my husband's shaft and am delighted to feel him lift and bang his knee on the table edge in response.

  "We have time," I purr.

  Dan growls good-naturedly, and though I can tell he's tempted, he says, "I've got a nine-o'clock meeting and I want to be prepared."

  I make the cutest little pouty face that I can make. My husband's a sucker for that face. That and hearing about my fantasies. He's always encouraged them, and I'm pretty sure he married me because my sexual appetite is bigger than his. So I know just what to do to make his resistance melt away; I pinch my own nipples and whine, "But I need to at least taste your cock."

  His erection jumps at my wanton display, an
d I seal the deal by saying, "Mmmm. I love you and your cock, Dan, and I'm going to prove it."

  Dan's eyes get that steely hunger in them. "Is a promise?"

  "Oh yes, it's a promise."

  Smirking, he strokes his hand through my hair. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

  I don't think that's going to be a problem. Unzipping his pants and taking his cock into my warm hands, I put my tongue over the spongy head of his, and take in his taste. His skin is clean, but his taste is salty and basic. I love the way it's so masculine and alluring. My husband is a good looking guy, and there's a little bit of an edge to him. So I shiver all over when he looks down at me tongue-bathing his cock, and says, "You can prove to me how much you love me and my cock this weekend by letting me watch you give a blow job to Lane Kenyon."

  My shock is palpable, but so is my arousal. I pull my head up as my mouth forms a little surprised oval, and a strong pulse pounds through my legs and pussy. "Shut up," I say, even though my body is screaming the opposite sentiment entirely. I want him to keep talking to me like that; to stoke that fantasy. My nipples get hard at the very thought, and I think he can tell.

  He laughs and rubs his swollen cock head on my face, tempting and taunting me. It leaves a trail of sticky pre-cum on my chin. "Are you going to deny that you've fantasized about sucking off my boss?"

  "Fantasized, sure! But you sound almost like you're serious…"

  Without giving me a chance to say anything else, my husband pushes his cock into my mouth and starts pumping. If we're going to get pregnant, I know I should get him between my legs, but I admit, I'm distracted by the idea of his boss. I've never actually spoken to the man; just saw him across a crowded ballroom at a company party. But now that my husband has planted the idea in my mind, I like it. And there's a part of me that wonders if I would really have the nerve to do it if the chance came along.