She threw a leg over mine, and I felt the scratch of her trimmed pubic hair against my leg, the silk of her inner thigh on mine. Her breast pressed against my ribcage.
She fell back asleep.
I, as sleepy as I was, couldn’t quite fall back asleep right away—I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands. One arm was naturally curled against her hip, cupping the indent where her hipbone and pubic bone met, a delicate, porcelain patch of skin that my fingers just wanted to trace and caress as I drowsed. My other hand rested on her knee, near her thigh.
None of this was helping my erection.
Yet, eventually, despite the unfamiliar yet perfect feel of Torie wrapped around me, I did fall asleep again.
The next time I woke up, I came fully awake as I normally did. Torie was still draped over me, but even without looking at her, and with my eyes still closed, I knew she was awake.
I blinked my eyes open, and there she was. Her light brown eyes gazing at me. One hand on my chest, her chin on my shoulder.
“Hi,” she whispered.
I smiled. “Hey.”
A blush crept over her cheeks. “I fell asleep naked.”
“Yes, you did.” I let my hand explore the warm curve of her buttock, and I cupped it. “And I am certainly not complaining—at all.”
Her eyes closed, and I was pretty sure she was relishing the way my hand felt, caressing her. “I’ve…never slept in the same bed as anyone before. I mean, not a male. I have with Jillie and Leighton plenty of times, but they’re my girls, and it’s not a weird or sexual thing, obviously, we’re just comfortable with each other. And I’ve certainly never slept naked with anyone.”
“Would you believe I’ve never slept naked with anyone?”
“But you have slept, like actual sleep-slept—with a woman?”
I swallowed. “A little early for probing questions, isn’t it?”
She snorted. “It’s eleven.”
I blinked in shock. “It is? I’ve never slept till eleven in my entire life.”
“Well, you needed it. You were sleeping hard there for a while.”
“How long have you been awake?” I asked.
A little shrug. “Half an hour? Forty-five minutes at the most.”
“Just watching me sleep?”
A nod. “Yeah.” Demure eyes, looking at me and away. “Is that okay?”
“To wake up with you naked, laying all over me? Fuck yes, it’s okay.”
I was getting hard again, and my shorts, thin and stretchy and loose, would do zero to hide that. Mainly because her leg, thrown over me, would feel it as I engorged. I wasn’t sure how to proceed, though. We had to talk about her being a virgin. And what it meant for what we did next.
But god, I wanted to get freaky with her. Not, like, kinky freaky, just…sex. I wanted whatever she was willing to do. Weird to say, but I honestly just wanted to feel her hand on me again. I’d never have thought I’d be eager for a handjob, but the way she’d touched me was…pure magic. Raw, sizzling erotic magic.
And I wanted it again.
Her eyes met mine, and I knew she was feeling my arousal grow. “Whatcha thinking about, Rhys?” she murmured, a small, playful smile on her face.
“That I’m horny as fuck, that you’re naked and sexy, that I want to taste your pussy again and make you come, that I want you to jerk me off again, that I want your mouth on my cock, that I want you to ride me, that I’m confused about how you’re a virgin yet so sexy and sultry and seductive.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“I’m confused too.” She pressed a kiss to my chest. “And just as horny, and I wish you were naked too, and I want…all of that.”
“All of it?” I met her eyes.
Conflict in those seductive eyes. “Do I want all of it? Hell yes. Am I sure I’m ready for it? If I’m ready to climb on and ride you right this moment? Not exactly.”
“We need to talk about that, Torie.”
“I know.” Her hand slithered down my belly, skittered under my shorts. Brushed my cock. “Can the conversation happen after we do nice things to each other?”
“Nice things?” I said, my belly tightening as she teased her hands inside my shorts without actually grasping me yet. “What nice things did you have in mind?”
“I dunno,” she murmured. “Last night was pretty…nice.”
“Yeah, it was. Very…nice.”
Her eyes fixed on mine as she took me in her hand. “I really just want to touch you some more. But…I don’t—I don’t want to confuse you, or make things hard for you.”
“Too late.” I hissed in pleasure as her small strong warm hand slid down my shaft, stuttering slowly to my base. “Already confused as hell, but shit, the way you touch me, Torie? I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to, and I don’t want to. And obviously, I’m plenty hard.”
“You don’t even have to do anything,” she murmured. “Just…let me enjoy touching you.”
“Oh, I’ll do something.” I felt my brain turning sideways, felt my reason abandoning me. “I’m gonna make you…make you feel so good.”
Her laugh was low and sultry. “God, you made me feel incredible last night. I’ve never come that hard in my life.”
“You came, like, three times, but not boom-boom-boom.”
“Weird, huh?”
“Not weird, just…unique.” It was so difficult right now to put two words together, to make sense, to carry on a conversation.
Her hand was moving with glacial slowness up and down my shaft, and her thumb would slide over my tip at the top, and she’d twist her fist on the way down.
“I have this…thing, with orgasms. Not sure how to explain it. The first time, it’s like…it’s a real orgasm, but when I’m done I feel like…like I’m not done coming. So, if I can get another one, it’s even better. But still, usually, that’s not it, like—I’m not all the way orgasmed. Usually it takes three before I feel like I’ve really come all the way.”
“So…um.” I had to close my eyes and focus on what I wanted to say. “You…when you come—I mean, when you jerk off.” I groaned as she did something that involved a twist and a pump at the same time. “You’re a girl.”
“You noticed,” she laughed.
“I mean, you don’t jerk off. But when you do your girl thing.” I laughed at myself. “You make it hard to make sense because what you’re doing right now feels so fucking good. “When you masturbate, you do it three times?”
She sighed, sounding irritated. “Well, that’s the tricky part. I’m not normally super fast to get there. Like, it’s kinda hard for me to reach orgasm. So, no, not usually. Usually, I have to break it up into sessions, like in the morning, and then that night, then the next morning. And most of the time, it’s hard to find the privacy to do so, living with two other girls, and until recently it was four other girls. Bathroom time, everyone up, doors slamming open, music going, someone banging pans in the kitchen, it’s just hard to get in the right mood when you live with a bunch of people.”
“Well, you came pretty fast and pretty close together last night,” I pointed out.
She bit her lower lip, and pushed my shorts down over my cock. “These need to go. I want to see you. I need to watch when you come.”
I lifted my hips and she let go of me long enough to pull my shorts down past my butt, and I kicked them off. She immediately grasped me in her hand again. Stroked me. Then let go, and moved to a sitting position—I spread my legs wide and she nestled between them, reached and tucked each of my legs over her crossed legs, so now she was sitting cross-legged in the enclosure of my legs, facing me. Her hands slid up my thighs, caressing my legs, petting them, feeling the muscles of my thighs, then grazing her palms up to my hipbones, over my belly, sliding her hands down either side of my cock before gathering it in both hands.
I had no clue what to do with my hands—she was out of reach, and it felt weird to just let them rest idly at my sides,
so I tucked them behind my head.
“I think you had something to do with how fast and how hard I came last night,” she said. “And by something, I mean everything.”
“I want nothing more than to make you come as many times and as hard as you can, for as long as I can keep you coming.”
She twisted both hands up my cock, stroked them down, one atop the other, and didn’t stop at the base of me but slid her hands down to cradle my balls and proceeded to caress and play with them as erotically and lovingly as she did my cock. I groaned at that, because holy hell—how had I not known it could feel so good? No one had ever touched me the way she did. No one, not ever. Her tongue was sticking out, a smile on her face, that little tip of her cute pink tongue running over her lower lip again and again as she plied me with her hands.
“You making me come was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she whispered. “And I mean that very literally. So please, I beg of you, please, use any and every opportunity to do so again, as frequently and as creatively as you can.”
“Is that an invitation to touch you whenever I want?”
“For now?” a hesitation in her voice, as we both skirted around several major issues. “Yes. It is. Free rein to touch me, to make me come, however, whenever. Just…don’t embarrass me in front of people, or get me arrested for indecent exposure.”
I could only shake my head, because what she was doing now was too incredible to allow something as complicated as speech. What the hell was she doing? I had to remember how to open my eyes, and when I did, the sight of Torie, naked between my legs, my cock in her hands? It was too much. I nearly came just from that, but held it back, because I wanted this to go on forever. I didn’t need food or oxygen or anything, just this. Torie’s hands on my cock, her tits shifting and swaying and jiggling as she touched me.
“You’re lasting a long time,” she murmured. “Last night, too.”
“I don’t want it to end,” I growled. “Sorry if it’s—”
“You better not apologize for that.” She smirked. “What if I made it last as long as possible?”
“I might die from how incredible it is?”
“Well, don’t die, because I need you to make me orgasm.”
“Oh, I will. I may need a few minutes to remember how to be a people, but I’ll make you come so hard you’ll see stars.”
She had that tongue out again, and my heart wanted to explode, for some reason. It expanded with some kind of blossoming, sun-hot emotion, something about the way she stuck that tongue out, a joyful, aroused little smile gracing the corners of her mouth…it did something to my whole being. Shifted me, twisted me into a braided pretzel of confused, overwhelmed emotion. Something like joy, but bigger, deeper, hotter.
It was a feeling that screamed in a universe-sized voice THIS WOMAN IS MINE!
It scared me shitless, but it had me in its grip and I was powerless to fight it.
She never did the same exact sequence of touches twice in a row, stroking, twisting, thumb over the tip, cradle and squeeze and caress my balls, pump my shaft with both hands, then one, then just around the base, then just around the tip.
It was as if she was making a game out of touching me, learning how I felt, watching how I reacted. If I groaned at something, she’d do it again. If I tipped my hips up, she did that again. Then, she’d do both of those things one after the other and I’d let out a gasping breathless snarl, hips rocking.
Her tongue. I wanted to tell her to stop doing that, I couldn’t handle her tongue sticking out. It was too much for my poor overwhelmed heart, and my poor pounding throbbing cock.
Then she drew it in and bit her lower lip, chewing on the corner as if contemplating something. I saw the decision in her eyes. I had no clue what that decision was, but I had no capacity to speak, or to ask her what she was thinking. I could only ride along with whatever she was deciding on.
Whatever it was, I was pretty sure I would like it.
She held me in both hands, pulled me away so my cock was standing perpendicular to my body. She hesitated and then leaned over me, and I realized what she was about to do the moment she did it. Her mouth slid around me, and I let out a disbelieving, guttural groan as her hot wet tight mouth took me.
“Oh fuck, Torie,” I snarled, the words torn out of me.
She pumped me with her hands and drew her mouth up toward the tip, stroked her fists down and suckled around me, and I made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and a groan of ecstasy. My hands drifted out and I tangled her hair in my hands, drew the shimmering black mass up and ran my fingers through it, teasing the tangles out, gathering it in my hands and running my fingers though the seemingly endless silken locks.
I was lost, then. There was no me, only her hair in my hands and my cock in her mouth and her hands. That was everything. The whole universe.
After a moment, she pulled away and I popped out of her mouth and the world beyond the confines of her mouth was a wet cold place and I didn’t like it at all. She made up for it, though. And then some. She did that thing where she twisted her fists around the head and then caressed downward in a hand-over-hand movement that left me aching, gasping, and made my hips thrust up helplessly.
Then her mouth was on me again, this time just around the very tip, sucking, her tongue flicking and rolling around as if tasting the seeping essence. She kept doing that, I think, because of the way I reacted. Then she added to it with one hand cupping and squeezing my balls and another pumping the center of my shaft, and that combination was all I could take.
I cried out, an embarrassing and unmanly whimper of absolutely gone from this world rapture. She didn’t stop. She kept her mouth on me, her fist pumping, caressing my sac with the same speed and rhythm as my shaft.
My hips left the bed and she moved with me, and I had to thrust, had no choice. She accepted it, moved with it, and my fists were knotted in her hair, holding on for dear life, just holding, gripping the thick mass of her lush hair and hanging on as she took me to heaven.
“Torie, oh fuck, oh fuck, Torie, I’m gonna come. God, oh god—Ohhhhh…Torie, oh Torie…” I gasped.
Her mouth left me and she clutched my balls in a rhythmic squeeze and pumped me and I roared wordlessly as I came, and came, and came.
My eyes flew open and watched as she watched me come, her fist unhurriedly pulsing down, and up, twisting, down, and up, and my cum spurted in stream after stream onto my belly; she had my cum all over her fingers, and she was watching avidly, aroused, as she drew more and more cum from me.
It was the most intense, unending orgasm I’d ever felt, and the way her palm and fingers cradled my balls and kneaded them as they pulsed was delirium-inducing, and then as I was nearing the end of the climax she finally began stroking me hard and fast—I’d thought I’d come already and couldn’t again for a few minutes at least, but oh god and holy shit she proved me wrong.
I felt it rising in me again, impossibly, and I made a strangled sound of blissed-out disbelief. “Holy fuck, Torie, what are you doing to me?”
Her eyes smiled, and she just shrugged, and kept going. Then, as I was about to erupt a second time, she slid that tight wet mouth on me and I felt myself convulse uncontrollably, and she moaned, and I was awash in a sea of white light, blinded by the force of what she was doing to me, something beyond an orgasm, something more. And she didn’t stop until I was panting as if I’d sprinted a hundred meters uphill.
Finally, when I was unable to move, choking on my own gasping breath, she backed away and just sat, watching me.
How long I lay there, wallowing in the throes of ecstasy and delirium, I don’t even know. But when I regained consciousness, she was still there, watching me.
“Hi,” she murmured, a pleased, thrilled grin on her beautiful face.
“I think I just…I think I died and went to heaven,” I mumbled.
She was blushing. Touched her lips, wiped at them. “I like how you taste.” Her smile
brightened. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Was that…your first time doing that?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.” A thoughtful frown. “Well, sort of.”
“Sort of?” That baffled me.
“I’ll explain later.” She dragged her fingers through the mess on my belly. “Don’t move. I’ll clean you up.”
I couldn’t move if I wanted to, and by the time I remembered how to move, she was off the bed and traipsing into the bathroom—and god, what a view. Her ass was taut, tight and round, shaking just slightly with each step, and then she washed her hands and rinsed out the washcloth and was coming back; the view as she returned was just as good, if not better, with the extra jiggle of her tits.
She saw me looking, stopped near the bed, weight on one foot, hipped popped. “Whatcha looking at?”
“You,” I said, “and enjoying the hell out of the view.”
I reached for the washcloth, but she shook her head. “No, let me.”
She wiped me clean with the warm damp washcloth, even lifting my now-flaccid cock and wiping the tip and the sides, tilting it this way and that, which definitely threatened its flaccidity.
I was roused, now. I could tell by the hesitant look in her eye that she was trying to figure what was next—she wanted hers, but wasn’t quite able to ask for it.
And she didn’t have to.
I snagged the washcloth from her, sat up and flung it into the bathroom. Grinning at her, a hungry, feral baring of my teeth, I snatched her waist and hauled her to me, onto the bed, and threw her down onto her back. She gasped at the sudden aggression, eyes wide, not quite fearful and definitely eager.
“Your turn,” I whispered, kneeling over her prone, lush figure. Stared down at her, palms scouring her belly, up to her breasts. “Gonna make you scream, darlin’.”
“Oh god, Rhys,” she whimpered, the rough scratch of my hands over her sensitive nipples making them stand on end, making her thighs whisper against each other. “I want to come so bad. Watching you come all over my hands made me so hot.”
“You’re gonna come till you can’t come anymore, baby.” I don’t know where that word came from; her eyes met mine as I said it, but I didn’t take it back and she didn’t question it.
A Real Goode Time Page 18
