[Bad Motherpuckers 01.0] Hot as Puck

by Lili Valente

  “It’s not just the fall.” Her words are muffled by the sound of a door slamming in the background, making me think she must have made it home. “It’s the entire stupid interaction. Why did I have to go in there? Why did I have to get cocky and think I was ready to run before I’ve even learned to walk?”

  “You know how to walk just fine,” I say, determined to make her feel better. “Stop beating yourself up, get inside, and run yourself a bath. I’ll come over in a little while, after you’ve had time to get nice and loose, and give you a massage. How does that sound? Just a massage, no pressure for anything else.”

  She sniffs. “Why? Have you changed your mind about wanting to do filthy things to me?”

  “No,” I scoff, “of course I haven’t, I—”

  “I mean, if that’s what you’ve decided, it’s fine. I get it,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I should probably give up before I get started, right? I mean, what’s the point of learning to enjoy orgasms and dirty talk and sexting and all the rest of it with a friend if I’m never going to be able to transition into being with a real person?”

  “Hey! I’m real.”

  “I know you are, but you know what I mean.” She sighs, the sound so sad and defeated that I know I have no choice but to head over to her place and ambush her with feel-good sexy times. It is my duty as an American and a gentleman and the person who has been fantasizing about this completely and utterly desirable woman for the past forty-eight hours.

  If anyone can prove to her that she’s got what it takes to have a fulfilling sexual and romantic relationship, it’s me.

  “I do not know what you mean.” I stand, grabbing my keys from the top of the pile of mail on the kitchen island on my way toward the door. “And I’m not going to let you give up on blossoming into a full-blown sex goddess because one dink looked at you funny and made you nervous.”

  She sniffs again. “You really think I can blossom into a sex goddess?”

  “I do. And I’m coming over right now to prove it to you.” I open the door, stopping short as I see Libby standing on the other side, looking adorable and sad in a pink linen dress with a flowery scarf wrapped around her neck.

  She drops her arm, letting her phone hang limply to her side. “I’m already here. I didn’t feel like going home and being alone with myself and my stupid traitor brain.”

  “Good.” I end the call and drop my phone and keys onto the table beside the door. “Get in here, sexy.”

  “I’m not sexy.” Her lips turn down hard. “I smell like feet. After lunch, Becca gave me a hug with pimento cheese spread all over her face, but I didn’t realize I’d been cheesed until the curds were dry and crusty.”

  “You don’t smell like feet. You smell like Libby.” I sniff experimentally as I take her hand and draw her inside. “And maybe a little bit like feet.”

  Her head falls back as her eyes close. “God, I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry? This is an easy problem to solve.” I take her backpack and her phone and set them on the table before slowly unwinding the scarf from her neck and hanging it from a nearby hook. “All we have to do is get you out of these pimento clothes.”

  Libby’s eyes meet mine as I rest my hands on her waist, fisting the soft fabric of her dress in my hands. “Do you really think I can do this?” she asks.

  “Do what?” I gather more of the dress into my fists, drawing her hemline up inch by inch “Let me undress you and make you come so many times you forget why you were sad?”

  She shakes her head, holding my gaze with an intensity that makes me even more aware of the electricity building between us. “Will I ever be able to get out of my head and stop being nervous? Will it ever feel easy or natural with anyone but you?”

  A voice in my head answers “No,” in a strong, steady tone, and a wave of possessiveness that has no place in a friends-with-benefits relationship rushes through my chest. But I push them both aside to assure Libby that, “Yes. It will. Just give it time.” Her hemline reaches her waist, and I slip one hand beneath her dress to rest on the warm skin at the small of her back, above what feels like another pair of lace panties. Her lashes flutter as she leans into me, her breasts brushing against my chest enough to make me hard.

  “But first, give me time,” I say, my cock getting thicker as I hook my thumb over the waistband of her panties. “No more thinking about Roger or anyone else. From this moment, until the minute you step back through that door, you’re mine, Collins. I want you thinking about me, and all the incredible things I’m doing to your body, and nothing else. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes.” She gazes up at me with heat in her deep brown eyes, tempting me to jerk her panties down and devour her pussy right here in the foyer. “But I want to do incredible things to you, too. Will you show me? Show me what you like?”

  “I will. But honestly, Libs, just standing this close to you does incredible things to my body,” I confess, my voice husky. “Now lift your arms, beautiful. I needed you naked five fucking minutes ago.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Libby

  Justin tugs my dress over my head and pulls me back into his arms, kissing me like he’s been starved for the taste of my lips, scattering all the humiliations of the day in a rush of awareness.

  My lips tingle and my skin prickles with electricity as my arms tighten around his neck, and he hugs me so tight my feet lift off the floor. He draws me up his body, sending fresh sizzles zipping through me as my nipples brush against the soft fabric of his flannel through my thin, lace bra.

  “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles against my mouth as he carries me down the hallway into the large, open-concept kitchen and living room. “Like maple syrup and coffee and Libby. And the Libby part is the best part.”

  I gasp as Justin’s big hand squeezes my bottom tight, pulling me closer to where he’s hard and thick, pulsing against my belly, assuring me that this isn’t something he’s doing out of pity. He’s doing this because he wants me as much as I want him, and I’m so grateful.

  The fact that a gorgeous, experienced, been-around-the-block-and-then-some man can still find me sexy and attractive is doing wonders for my confidence, but there is still so much to learn, a fact made abundantly clear as Justin lays me down on the couch, kneeling between my legs as he tugs off his sweater and undershirt and starts working open the close on his jeans.

  “Here?” My eyes widen as I glance past him at the floor-to-ceiling windows and the city of Portland stretching away toward the river and the hills beyond.

  “Here.” He holds my gaze as he draws his zipper down, the buzz as the teeth separate enough to make my nipples pucker even tighter.

  “But you don’t have any blinds,” I say, torn between anxiety and arousal as he steps out of his jeans, revealing a pair of tight black boxer briefs that leave nothing about his anatomy to the imagination.

  “It’s all right. There aren’t any other buildings around here tall enough for anyone to see inside. The only one who’s going to see you naked and coming on my mouth is me.” He hooks his hands behind my knees, drawing me closer, until he’s looming over me like a god descended from Mount Olympus.

  God, he’s beautiful. And terrifying. The perfection of his body—broad shoulders, powerful chest, and an eight-pack chiseled into his abdomen—is intimidating enough, considering my own workouts consist mostly of long walks in the woods and riding my bike to the farmer’s market on the weekends. But it’s the seven, eight, maybe even nine inches straining the fabric of his boxers that make my pulse speed and my throat threaten to close up with panic.

  Surely there’s something wrong with him. It’s not supposed to be that big.

  Is it?

  “Something wrong?” His hands skim gently up and down my thighs in a way that would be soothing if my heart weren’t slamming against my ribs from a combination of fear and arousal.

  “According to everything I’ve read, the average size of an
erect penis in the United States is five point eight inches.”

  His lips curve. “Is that right? You do a lot of reading about penises, Libs?”

  “I’ve done enough.” I cast a meaningful glance south of his border. “So what’s up with that?”

  Amusement makes his eyes twinkle as his hands move to my waist, circling it with his fingers. “What’s up with what?”

  “You know what. You know exactly what. As much as you get around, you must have realized by now that that’s not normal.”

  He laughs, the bastard, but before I can tell him to shut up and take me seriously, he says, “Don’t worry. It’s perfectly normal, and if we decide to go that far, there won’t be any problems. I promise.”

  I swallow hard. “I don’t like broken promises.”

  “I know you don’t,” he says, his smile fading. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Libby. I promise, if you decide you want me inside you, I’m only going to make you feel good. But today, you don’t have to worry about it. My abnormal cock and I have other plans for your pussy.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” I say as he lengthens himself on top of me.

  “You didn’t.” He cups my breast, teasing my nipple through my bra, making things low in my body pulse. “Being called a freak is the best thing to happen to my cock all day. He’s super proud of himself.”

  “Well, that’s nice, but there’s really nothing to be proud of. It’s just genetics.”

  “Shhhh, your logic won’t work here, Collins. Cocks are notoriously immune to logic. Cocks only hear what they want to hear, and right now mine is sure that he’s the biggest, sexiest bastard on the block.”

  I nod as my brows lift. “Do you always talk about your cock in third person?”

  “Not always. Sometimes I stick a hat on him, do my best cock voice, and put on a puppet show to build morale. Maybe if you’re really lucky, I’ll do one for you later.”

  I smile against Justin’s lips as he kisses me, making our teeth bump together through our skin when he smiles back. “Are you this goofy in bed with all your women?”

  “I don’t want to think about other women,” he says, reaching beneath me to pop the clasp on my bra. “I just want to think about you, and your beautiful body, and how many times I can make you scream my name before I have to take a break to feed you dinner.”

  He draws my bra down my arms and tosses it on the floor, cupping my breasts in his hands and pressing them closer together, the heat in his eyes as he lowers his mouth to my tight nipples making me burn. And then his tongue sweeps across one tight, aching tip, and I catch fire.

  “Oh God, Jus.” I arch my back, threading my fingers into his soft hair as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. Waves of hot, sticky bliss spread through me as he torments first one breast and then the other, sucking, licking, and eventually biting my nipples until I’m squirming beneath him, desperate for him to touch me in even more intimate places. My entire pelvis is heavy, leaden with need, and my panties are so wet that I would be embarrassed if I weren’t so turned on, so hungry and wild and ready for more.

  I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not in my solo experiments with my vibrator and certainly not with Brett. When Brett touched my breasts, it had been pleasant, tingly, and interesting. Justin’s erotic assault on my sensitive flesh is breathtaking, mind-blowing, nearly enough to make me come even before he slips his hand down the front of my panties. I’m so primed and ready that all it takes is the slightest brush of his calloused fingers over my clit and I explode.

  I cry out, arching into his hand as my release blows through me, making me moan and heat rush from between my legs, easing Justin’s way as he presses a single finger deep into my pussy. My body throbs in response, locking down tight around him as he glides in and out, his finger mimicking the rhythm of his hips as he thrusts against my thigh, letting me feel how hard and hot he still is.

  “Now your turn,” I say, breath still coming fast as I drift back down to earth.

  “Not even close to my turn.” He moves lower, kissing the curls between my legs through my panties. “It’s still your turn until I say otherwise. God, I can’t wait to taste you. You smell so good, Libby, so salty and wet. I love how wet you are for me, beautiful. It makes me so fucking hot.”

  He draws my panties down my thighs, tossing them on the floor before his hands hook behind my knees. But as he tries to spread my legs, I tense in spite of myself. The thought of Justin kissing me down there is enough to make me dizzy with wanting, but I’m also scared, anxious, and worried that maybe he’s not the only abnormal one on this couch.

  “Relax, Libs,” Justin says softly, pressing a kiss to my knee. “It’s going to feel good, I promise.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about,” I confess.

  “You don’t need to be worried about anything.” This time he kisses my inner thigh, making me shiver as he gently, but firmly, spreads me wide. “I want to do this for you. And for me. I want your taste in my mouth, beautiful.” He kisses me higher, only inches from where my clit throbs, already desperate for more. “I can’t wait to feel you lose control again, Libby. Do you know how sexy you are when you come?”

  I shake my head slowly from side to side, my heart doing a slow-motion swan dive as Justin’s mouth comes to hover at my apex, so close his breath warms the slick, swollen flesh between my legs.

  “So, so sexy,” he whispers, pausing to pull in a deeper breath. “And you smell so good.”

  “Are you sure? Brett only did this once and he—” I swallow hard, fighting to focus as Justin’s hands come to either side of my sex, spreading my innermost lips, baring me so completely to him that a rush of adrenaline and desire makes my legs tremble. “He di-didn’t like it.”

  “Then he was a fucking fool.” His tongue sweeps out, licking slowly, deliberately up the seam of me, making me gasp as electricity shoots through me in response. “You are delicious.” He holds my gaze as he circles my clit with his tongue, again and again, the intimacy of the moment so intense that I feel like my chest is going to implode.

  Just as the tension spinning tight between my hipbones threatens to become something more, he pulls back, reaching up to roll my almost too-sensitive nipples with his damp fingers, summoning a pained, pleasured sound from deep in my throat.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says in a low voice as he continues to torment my breasts. “I’m going to devour your beautiful, perfect, delicious pussy, and if you want it harder or faster or slower or deeper, you’re going to tell me. You’re going to tell me loud and clear and make sure I hear how you want me to fuck you, Libby.”

  My cheeks flush hot and fast, making me even dizzier than I was before.

  “Do you hear me, Libs?” Justin swirls his tongue around my clit again as my eyes slide closed and his hand glides down my ribs to my waist.

  “Yes.” I shudder beneath him as my body turns electric. “I heard you.”

  “Then tell me what you want, gorgeous. What do you want me to do?”

  “Kiss me,” I whisper. “There.”

  “How, baby? How do you want me to kiss you?”

  “Hard. And deep,” I say, pulse spiking as the uncharacteristically demanding words escape my lips. “I want to feel your tongue inside of me.”

  “I want that, too. So fucking much.” Justin digs his fingers into my hips. “Keep it up, baby. Keep telling me what you want because all I want is to make you feel good. To make you come harder than you’ve ever come before.”

  My lips part to confess that he already has, but before I can speak his mouth covers my sex and his tongue swirls around my entrance, kissing my pussy every bit as intimately as he kissed my mouth, and my vocabulary is reduced to a long, low moan.

  And then a gasp and then his name, which I chant again and again as he takes me higher, higher, until I shatter into a thousand perfectly broken pieces.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Justin

&nb
sp; The moment she arches beneath me, her body stiffening as she starts to come, I angle my head and drive my tongue deeper into her pussy, swirling against her inner walls as wet heat fills my mouth. She tastes like the ocean, where lava meets the sea, hot, tart, alive, and sexy as ever-loving fuck.

  “Yes, Libby,” I murmur, suckling her clit, drawing out her release until she’s twisting and writhing beneath me. But I wrap my arms around her thighs and hold her prisoner to her own pleasure, keeping her pinned until she reaches down to claw at my shoulders with a ragged sob.

  “Now you. Please, Justin, I need to make you come. I need to make you feel the way I feel right now.”

  I sit back on my heels, intending to get out of my boxer briefs as fast as humanly possible, but before I can reach for my waistband, Libby’s fingers curl around the fabric, pulling it down, freeing my cock. My breath catches as she takes me in hand, wrapping her fingers around my suffering length, making it twitch.

  I can’t remember the last time I was this desperate for a woman’s touch. Libby’s cool fingers as she explores my swollen flesh, squeezing and stroking until I groan, are messengers of pleasure and mercy. And then she lowers her head, and my groan becomes a curse and a silent prayer for the strength to keep from losing control until I’ve had the chance to properly enjoy her mouth on my cock.

  Her tongue circles my sensitive tip, licking away the pre-come that’s been leaking steadily out of me since the first time I made her come. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” she says, her breath warm on my shaft. “I’m going to devour your gorgeous, delicious cock, and you’re going to tell me how you like it.”

  I smile as I recognize my own words from a few minutes ago, feeling oddly proud of her. But I guess it isn’t odd for a teacher to feel pride when a student catches on exceptionally quickly.