by Shey Stahl
His attention was diverted though as he unbuckled his belt and then the button on his jeans. His eyes looked up through his long thick lashes that shadowed his flushed cheeks, his head still bent forward. He smiled but turned his attention back to his jeans attempting to remove them. “Well, honey, let’s see if I can show you a better time than him.”
I kept most of my noises to myself as he removed his jeans standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes focused on mine. Casten’s way of removing his clothes was painfully slow but I had a feeling that was part of his plan. The other part was watching my reaction as though he was administering a lie detector test.
“Are you sure?” he sensed the hesitation once I saw his dick practically jump out of his boxers with enthusiasm.
I think it was then he could see I wasn’t so sure about this.
“I’m just a little nervous,” I admitted suddenly. “Can we go slow?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, our foreheads pressed together and his lips finding mine, slow and relaxing. One hand reached around my neck and cradled my head as if he was taking care of me, showing me how good this could be.
I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous and the tender side he was displaying wasn’t making it any easier for me.
What would he think of this? Would it be good? I’d never had sex while sober. I was hardly concentrating on any of that before now. Now I couldn’t get my mind to comprehend anything, only that I was doing the floppy scared thing I didn’t like so much.
“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He looked down at me through those lashes again. They were practically a secret weapon of his that could unlock Fort Knox if needed. He was about to unlock my Fort Knox for sure.
Positioned between my legs, I could feel the tip of him at my entrance and it sort of became so real right then. I was about to have sex with the engine builder. My heart started pounding, a flush of nerves came over me enveloping me in heat that rose from my neck to my cheeks.
He noticed and smiled softly, waiting, giving me a wink of assurance.
Just when I thought he was going to push forward the rest of the way, Casten laid there for a moment before sighing.
“I don’t have any condoms,” and then his hand came down roughly on his headboard. The sound rattled through me, making me jump under him. “Fuck, why didn’t I think of this before?”
He was not pleased with himself at the lack of planning. Thankfully, for a girl like me who is seldom responsible, I’m forced to consider this and have been on the shot since I was sixteen.
“I’m on the shot,” I offered up, watching his reaction. Maybe to ease my nerves, or his, his lips pressed to mine, tenderly, consuming. I moaned, it was an instinctive reaction to anything he did to me.
“What?” he mumbled against my skin.
“Birth control. It’s a shot. No one like me needs to be a parent. And I,” I felt weird for saying this next part, but given my history, I felt it needed to be said, “… get regular exams.”
His laughter rocked me slightly, his lips returned to mine. “Okay then. Shall we?”
“Yes, lets,” as if we were going to prom or something. It felt like prom night. If I had, in fact, gone to prom. Which I didn’t. I spent the night with Anna passed out on the floor in her room after watching Sweet Sixteen four times.
Wanting to get this going, and he certainly wasn’t moving fast, I reached down between us. I needed him inside now.
He wasn’t allowing it though. Gently, his hand grasped my wrist pulling it above my head—his lips traced down my arm, over my shoulder, and then slowly toward my neck as he shifted between my legs, his nose tickled against my ear.
He pulled back to look at me. “Last chance,” he whispered.
I didn’t say anything, just leaned forward to kiss him. “I’m just a little nervous. Talk dirty to me.”
Who was he to deny me, right?
He wouldn’t. I knew that much.
Silenced with a kiss was always a sure thing. After some of the fairly embarrassing noises I’d already made tonight, I decided silence was golden.
“You look so sexy underneath me,” his voice was strained as he let out a soft grunt pushing forward. The noise, the force of his words, and hips, were one in the same. A moment I would probably remember forever. “And see, because you’re sober,” he breathed, giving me more of his weight, “you can experience everything I’m going to give to you right now.”
He filled me, my mind completely blank as I was lost in that exact moment.
His breath was low, in between a gravelly whisper at my ear. “Have you ever heard of the suck squeeze bang blow process?”
Sweet Jesus.
I shook my head. I knew a little, but wasn’t about to deny the chance at some dirty talk.
When Casten pushed forward, he grunted. When he pulled out, I whimpered.
It was like denying yourself chocolate for a while and then when you finally have it, you practically fucking moan in the grocery store because you’ve opened that shit in the aisle unable to wait another minute for the sweet sugary bliss to touch your lips.
That was me. And him pulling out? That was denying me of sensations I never thought were possible.
I was never having sex drunk again.
Oh, well, let’s not get ahead of yourself and make such rash decisions.
His head was buried in my neck, but it didn’t matter. My eyes were closed, reveling in it all when he spoke again, letting his breath hit my cheek. “An engine, well, when it’s running, it goes through that suck,” his lips met the pebbled skin of my neck, “where it draws in air and fuel,” one hand moved to my ass giving me a squeeze, “then it compresses that air and fuel into a flammable vapor,” his hips pressed forward going as deep as he could, “and, finally, the bang.” He looked up at me, drawing himself up on his hands and bending at the waist. “That mixture is ignited,” he watched my reaction never missing a beat, “there’s a spark from the spark plug and it ignites that mixture into a controlled burn for the gas to expand.” I knew what was coming next. The blow. The fucking blow. “Once it’s burned, it’s blown out.” With a wink, he pulled out slightly, then paused letting his words settle over me. Grinning now, ridiculous, he shook his head as if, possibly this might have been too much for him too. “And then the process starts all over again.”
Leaning forward again and giving me his weight, he kissed me tenderly.
I couldn’t focus. It was all way too much. The talking, the movements, his attention, oh shit.
Casten was panting, his hips moving slowly but with a certain amount of determination I knew he was going slow for me, but wanting to go so much faster.
“Hayden ...” Casten panted, stopping short of what he was going to say when I took that moment to kiss him. I fucking needed it.
Gazing down at me, watching, I ran my hands up the tight straining muscles of his back feeling them flex under my fingers. He shook slightly, his moan captured by his lips at my chest.
Then I thought, why not make this engine builder beg a little?
Moving my hands from his back, I pushed against the solid muscles in his chest, flexing under my touch. He pulled back, worry settled on his sweet grass green eyes and then relaxed when I smiled. “I wanna try something,” I said, winking, feeling a slight flush creep over my face at the thought of me taking control.
He did the same, pleasantly surprised by my willingness to relax. “By all means, try something.”
As he moved to lay flat on the mattress, his arms relaxed so that his hands were rested behind his head, I took that moment to get a good look at this engine builder.
I’ve seen some good looking men before. Hell, his father is one of them.
Get that thought out of your head right fucking now.
Casten, well, he may have been eighteen, but the boy would put most men to shame at the hard sharp lines of his heavy honed physique. I knew he ran. I knew he worked out. I’d seen him lifting weights. But to see his body
without a shred of clothing constricting those views, well again, it was like getting chocolate. To know that’s the result of pushing your body, it kind of made me want to work out.
Nah, don’t get all crazy. It’s just your hormones.
So there I was, enjoying the view when Casten moved his left hand from behind his head and squeezed my knee. “You gonna fuck me or stare at me?”
That snapped me out of it. That and him, ready, waiting for me.
Straddling him, I did one better and turned around so I was trying the whole reverse cowgirl shit Anna said guys loved so much. I even did the thing where I looked over my shoulder at him as I slid down him, watching his reaction.
His reaction?
Nothing I’d ever seen before. It was as if I was granting his unspoken sexual fantasy. His eyes darkened, his brow furrowed and then he relaxed, letting his head fall back to hit the mattress. I felt his knees raise ever so slightly, his back arching as he pulled up on his elbows but didn’t lift his head.
Sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I made a man go weak.
He said nothing. I’m not sure he could.
I wanted to feel him closer. I wasn’t sure this reverse cowgirl thing was the position for me, but I kept with it for about a minute. It wasn’t long and his hands had a firm grasp on my ass, moving me faster, his legs tensed with every roll of my hips.
Leaning back on my hands, and then my elbows, I brought myself in-line with him so my back was touching his chest.
The new position caused him to groan burying his face in my neck. The scrap of his jaw against me caused me to shiver. I was rocking against him, forcing myself into him determined to waiver that control, the benefit for me so indescribable.
Casten’s hands stayed on my hips, gripping tightly, so tight that I’m sure his knuckles were white, the muscles in his steel arms flexing with each move. His hands were certainly busy, so, needing relief too, I moved one hand to my center and put the other one over my head to take a firm grasp on that wavy mess of hair I’d been dying to thread my fingers in.
I’m not sure if it was me touching myself that got to him, but something had changed and I knew where it was going.
“Fuck,” he grunted, his knees bent—his feet flat on his mattress—throwing himself into his movements raising his hips. “You don’t know how hard it was for me not to throw you over that engine the other night.”
I had a pretty good idea, buddy.
The giggle-choke-and-snort-lack-of-dignity returned.
He paid my noises no mind.
“Shit, Hayden,” his hips flexed forward, rocking, in a couple quick movements before he stilled completely, his body arched back as the muscles in his body locked down.
Well, fuck. That was, good, but I didn’t get there.
I sighed, my body shaking as my hand fell away and I stayed laying on top of him. I felt Casten draw in a heavy breath, still panting slightly.
Swallowing, trying to make sense of everything and lift myself from the haze, Casten let out another deep breath and moved me off him. When he pulled out, I felt myself whimper internally at the thought of not being connected to him any longer.
And then, he was there rolling to his side, in my face, kissing me. “You didn’t … did you?” his lips left wet warm spots on me.
He knew. Of course he knew.
I shrugged, a shyness settled over me. How could I actually admit that?
Well, normally, if I was drunk, I would have said, you better right this situation, dude.
But now, so much more would go unsaid. I was kind of in a comprisable state when you think about it.
Turns out, I didn’t have to answer.
He knew.
I was still on my back, my hands resting on my bare stomach when Casten sat up and twisted to look back at me. He grinned, a little sexy, a little wicked and raised up on his hands and knees climbing over me. I thought, for a second he was going back in for round two, his erection pressing against my thigh, but he surprised me and his face came in line with my hips, then lower.
Oh God.
Licking his lips, his eyes kept there trance on mine as he lowered his face to the Promise Land with confidence.
I did the only rational thing a woman in my position would do. Hyperventilated.
I might point out, no one had ever went down on me. I had absolutely no experience in this area. I’m not sure why they hadn’t. No one ever tried.
My eyes went wide, and he must have sensed it when he smiled again, a reassuring one. “Relax, pretty girl. I’ll take good care of you.”
And that he did. From the moment his lips touched me down there he treated me as if I was some kind of special piece of candy he’d never had before, savoring the flavor, memorizing it’s very distinct essence in every way.
I’d never experienced something so … so … electrifying.
“Pretty girl?”
Was he talking to me?
Shit. He was.
I pried my eyes open to look down. The sight of him with his head between my legs was un-fucking-real.
“Hmm?”
“Do you know what lapping the valves is?”
Oh God, not again.
I shook my head against the pillow, my eyes drifting closed as he tongue tasted me, again and again, so painstakingly slow.
With my legs spread wide, his left hand rested on my pelvis, his thumb working me over and the other was between my legs, aiding in everything his tongue was providing me.
“We call it a valve job.” Again, he paused for effect. “First we start by inspecting the valves,” he took his forefinger and placed it at my opening carefully sliding over my wet, never mind, dripping, sensitive skin. “And then the valve guides,” one finger slid inside me, “and when you’ve inspected everything, you take the valve and apply a layer of compound to it.”
I couldn’t look. Instead, I kept my eyes closed.
So much was happening. So much. Movements, feelings, sensations that sent shiver shakes and toe curling tingles. He even, to my complete fucking surprise, licked my asshole.
Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have been something I would have ever been open to but this boy, this fucking eighteen-year-old boy knew exactly what he was doing.
“After you have the compound applied to the valves, you take a valve seating tool and attach it to the valve.” His fingers were working their magic, in and out, his tongue, in and out, swirling, tasting, sucking. “You twist the tool, working the valve in and out of the valve seat, lifting and twisting at the same time to smooth the edge. You want a good solid seal between the valve and the seat so you don’t have any leaks.”
I have a leak.
“If, by chance, your valve has pits, it messes with your compression.” I looked down, finally, giving him a shy smile. His tongue swirled, his eyes closed as if that was the best fucking thing he’d ever tasted. “That’s bad.”
I was bad. He was dirty. He knew what he was doing. Oh my fucking God.
Naturally, it didn’t take long and I succumbed to those shiver shakes and toe curling tingles. Mumbling his name, or some kind of noise, my hands threaded deep in his hair. Our eyes breaking contact as the sensations, the sweet surrendering ones left me weak and wasted.
As I laid there in the marshmallow bliss of his bed, Casten crawled back up my body, sliding his own against mine and then buried himself deep inside of me, moving with extreme determination. It wasn’t but just a few quick moments and he was again, shaking with me.
“Nicely done,” I said, breathless.
Casten didn’t say anything, he, too, was just as spent but rolled off me for the second time within the hour.
Then, without so much of a warning, my goddamn girly emotions roared their two-timing selves and I started crying.
Who cries after sex?
Not me, I don’t do that sort of thing, never had. But no, the one guy I want to impress I cry like a goddamn virgin. Way to go fucktard. If your hyperventilating noi
ses weren’t enough to send the boy running for the hills, your crying should be.
I blamed it on him going down on me. It messed with my nerves. Fucked with my dignity.
Casten noticed quickly I was having a nervous breakdown.
How much can you hide from a person when you’re glued together by your private parts, sweat and gooey stuff? Not much let me tell you. And let me tell you another thing, maybe I hadn’t noticed it when I was drunk and engaging in this sort of thing but fuck if I wasn’t sticky. From sweat and assembly lube. I needed a fucking shower.
“Are you crying?” he asked, his brow pulled together in confusion, his head lifting from his sea of white fully pillows. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m allergic to you.”
“Really?” he chuckled, the movement shaking us both. His fingertips brushed the tears away before he kissed lightly down my jaw and over the curve of my neck. “I lathered in antihistamine this morning. How can you be allergic?”
“I feel like a complete fucking loser. What the hell?” I threw my hands up before they slapped loosely against his back again. “Who cries after sex?”
“You are so weird,” he mumbled in my hair before rolling to the side. “But like I said before …” his voice lowered and I could almost hear the smile in his voice before I saw it, “It happens to the best of us,”
“I’m not weird. You’re weird. You just got me off by explaining valve lapping. Some would think that’s really weird.”
“Some might,” he agreed. “But some would say that was the sexiest fucking thing they’d ever heard. And that some would be you.” He leaned forward kissing my shoulder. “And me.”
Holding me securely against him, his fingers traced along my ribs. “Are you hungry? I think I worked up an appetite.”
“I could use some food.”
We made plans to go to that same diner we ate at last Saturday morning but the problem was, I didn’t want to get up.
“Why is your bed so comfortable? How do you get up in the morning?”
He grinned. “It’s hard. Really hard.” And he was. Hard that is.
Breakfast had to wait on account of the caution flag being thrown for an oil slick on the track, as Casten so calmly put it.
