by Gabrielle G.
He removes my panties in a quick movement and slowly kisses my inner thigh. I can feel myself dripping with desire. Ian blows on me, and a wave of shivers passes through me. I’ve never wanted so badly to get fucked before. The doubts I had when I pulled the door open disappeared when Ian told me how long he’s wanted me. As much as Paul destroyed who I was, Ian is building me back up. I feel confident. I feel desired. I feel like me.
“Please, Ian.” I try to bring my core to his mouth. “Please,” I say again, barely holding onto the fridge.
“Do you need me to wipe you clean, sunshine?”
“Yes please!” I beg again.
I would have never guessed Ian had such a dirty mouth. His fingers are holding each side of my pussy, and he brings his mouth closer. When his tongue finally finds my slit, I cry out. His flat tongue goes from behind to my clit several times, drinking my arousal. I’m losing control a little more with each lick.
Without stopping, he sits on the floor and positions me so I ride his face. He nibbles on my clit as his bearded chin asks for entrance to my pussy. The prickly sensation against the most sensitive part of my body is too much to handle. I pull back so slightly, but he tightens his hold, leaving me no escape.
His hands help me ride him, and I let his chin fuck me, his scruff driving me insane. When he eats my clit and pushes his chin further in, I come again, falling apart on his face and screaming his name. I collapse on his lap, and he kisses me, making me taste my pleasure on his tongue. “Fuck, that was amazing,” I say, threading my fingers in his hair. When our eyes connect, I see his burning desire.
“Can you take more or are you too sensitive?”
“I can take it all, but not on the kitchen floor.” I stand and take his hand, ready to show him the way to my bedroom. Sexy Jules seems to be back after all…
8 Ian
When I was eight, I wanted a puppy. I begged my parents and tried all the tricks in the world for them to agree. I prayed to whoever was listening, wrote to Santa, Jesus, and the mayor, and hoped every Christmas and birthday for a puppy. For four years, I waited, planned, and begged. Then on my twelfth birthday, my parents finally got me the puppy of my dreams. Golden was the most beautiful dog I ever saw. Not only because he was mine, but because I had waited for him to be mine for a long time.
Looking at Julie lying naked on her bed, I feel the same way. Though my twelve-year-old self would be disgusted by hearing me compare his precious dog to a girl. Nevertheless, I know Julie is my best gift ever.
Her two orgasms in the kitchen made me hard as a rock. Stripping at the foot of her bed, I feel her eyes assessing what I have to offer. I’m proud to stand in all my glory in front of her, but my looks are nothing compared to her beautiful body. Kneeling on the bed, I can’t resist kissing her pussy before my lips find her belly and make their way to her breast. I’m surprised to see a tattoo there. “Always & Only” is written at the juncture of her breasts and her ribs. I trace it with my tongue, my cock showing his excitement by moving like a bobblehead.
“I love your tattoo,” I say.
Her hands roam my body before stopping on my abs. “The day of the party, when you picked me up, all I could think about was licking your abs.”
Still mesmerized by her body, I’m too slow to react when she flips mine and straddles me. Bringing her mouth to my chest, she darts her tongue out and moves down. Her fingers trace my cock and clean the bead of precum from the tip. She finally licks my abs, discovers how ticklish I can be, and goes even lower, her lips hovering above my dick. Her hand takes control of my cock and holds it tight. She brings her tongue to my tip and licks me like a thirsty animal. She makes the most indecent noise as she takes me fully in her mouth.
I can’t stop groaning. “Fuck Jules! So good.”
Her hand and mouth are in perfect synchronization while my cock keeps disappearing between her lips. I want to come inside her more than in her mouth though, so when I feel my balls tighten dangerously, I take her face and bring her lips back to mine. Kissing her brings great relief to my dick. Placing her on the mattress, I reach into my discarded pants and grab a condom. She takes it from my hands and covers me in a torturous movement. I have to think of all the dead kittens in the world not to climax right there and now. When my cock is finally ready, she lies back beckoning me to come closer with her finger.
Fuck, she’s sexy. The broken Jules is gone. I can see the years of fear and self-deprecation chipping away. My chest contracts when I look into her eyes, and I sincerely hope she can see that this is a turning point for me. My dick is pushing through her, sensations running all over me. I close my eyes to hide the myriad of emotions I’m feeling. I don’t want her running for the hills.
I enter her inch by inch. A rush of adrenaline and intense pleasure comes over me, like having that first sip of a cold beer on a scorching summer’s day. When I finally reach deep, I feel as if I’m home. I knew I would.
She caresses my back, electrifying every part of my body. “You’re big.”
At her words, my dick swells even more. But I open my eyes to make sure I’m not hurting her. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am. Please fuck me so I won’t forget tonight.”
With each thrust, I feel my walls melting. With each groan, I feel my heart pumping. With each moan, I want her to be mine. You don’t stay single for a couple of decades without having some deep trust issues and a serious love for no-strings-attached. I had one serious relationship that finished in flames when my career took off and hers didn’t. Since then, I’ve had lots of conquests, but I’ve never disrespected a woman nor made her feel used. I don’t have a reputation as anything but a sexy bachelor who hasn’t found the right one. With Jules though, I don’t need to explain my commitment issues because I want nothing more than to commit to her. I feel powerful and free at the same time.
“Look at me, Jules.”
When our eyes connect, I know I’m about to come. My balls tighten, my head shuts down, and I spurt all I have into her. My orgasm brings her to climax and we come together, my cock clamped inside her. For a split second, everything makes sense.
It takes me a moment the next morning to situate where I am. I get a sense of déjà vu when my blasting phone wakes me and I find myself alone in Julie’s bed. I retrieve it from my pants on the floor and see Dex’s name flashing on the screen. I press Ignore and let his call go to voicemail. I’m in a great mood this morning, and talking to Dex this early only means drama and headache.
After picking up my briefs and jeans from the floor, I go looking for Julie. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. She was so sexy, confident, and vulnerable; I couldn’t even say a word when she opened the door. Her nervousness taunted me, and I lost control as soon as I entered her apartment. Finger fucking her, tongue fucking her, and cock fucking her was extraordinary, but falling asleep holding her was the highlight of the night.
As I stroll into the kitchen, I smile at the sight of the Jules I prefer—wearing sweatpants and a hockey T-shirt. Julie sees me approaching, and the most laid-back smile I’ve ever seen spreads across her face. If ten seconds ago I wasn’t sure where her head was, her face tells me I have nothing to be afraid of.
“Morning, sunshine!”
Her eyes are on my chest, and she bites her lower lip, bluntly checking me out.
“My eyes are up here,” I tell her, reaching for a kiss.
When our lips touch, my dick wakes up and I feel her chuckle against my mouth. She brings her hand to my dick and touches it with her palm as if she was petting it.
“He’s as happy to see you as I am,” I say, half joking, half serious.
Julie pulls back and smiles. “Good Morning, Mr. Emmy Nominee.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
And all of a sudden, it clicks. Her greeting, Dex’s call, today’s date.
“Do you mean…? Wow, again?”
Every nomination comes as an honor. Dex push
es me to submit my name every time. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t. First, because I'm not a cocky son of a bitch. Second, because I never really deserve to be noticed. I entertain; I don’t do anything important in the world. Third, because I’ll never get used to all the attention it draws. Campaigning for an Emmy means you have to give interview after interview, go to parties, be seen, shake hands, get your picture taken, and I hate that shit with a passion.
“That is what the rumors say,” she adds. “You should call your agent.”
As much as I need to call Dex and find out if what Julie told me is true, I need to be inside her more.
“It can wait,” I say, bringing my lips to hers. I lift her onto the counter and step between her legs. My hands find her breasts in record time, and I feel her pull on my hair, taking control of my lips with her teeth.
As our kiss deepens and my cock grows harder, Julie wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. “You said we would finish what we started last time you were here. Let’s go on the couch.”
After carrying her into the living room, I sit on the couch, letting her straddle me. Removing her sweatpants by some acrobatic yoga move, she positions her still covered pussy against my bulge and rubs herself against me.
“Fuck!” I need to be inside her now, and I want to feel her entirely.
As if she can read my mind, Julie opens my pants. I lift my hips, and she glides her hands on my ass, tugging down my briefs. She rises on her knees for me to take care of the front, so my cock is free and sits in such a way that my tip hugs the wet spot on her underwear. I finally reach for her pussy. My fingers push aside her panties and get soaked immediately. My dick twitches impatiently.
“Fuck, we need a condom.”
Jules pulls away from my lips. “No risk on my side. I got tested after all Paul’s shit and I’m on the pill. I want your dick bare inside me.”
“Please don’t speak about your ex while I fuck you!” I rasp before lunging for her breast and positioning her so my dick has better access to its home.
I can feel her heat. She looks at me, and the sight before me is once again the sexiest I’ve ever seen. She lowers herself onto my shaft, and I throw my head against the back of the couch because of the intensity of my emotions. I am spiraling— thinking of her being mine, of the world knowing, of the doubts I have about her feeling the same or if it’s all going too fast for her.
“Ian,” she gasps.
I can’t help but smirk when she uses the right name at the right moment. Fuck, I love her.
Fuck! I. Love. Her.
As she continues her motions, I look at where our bodies are joined, listening to the sounds of our skin connecting and her wetness rubbing me.
“I love…”
She opens her eyes, and the uncertainty in her gaze is like a bucket of cold water. I knew I liked her. I knew I was thinking of a future with her. I knew I was obsessed and horny. But I love her.
“I love fucking you,” I tell her, and relief spreads over her face. I know this will be a long road ahead.
“I love your dirty mouth,” she answers.
Her walls clench around me and I come, filling my mouth with her breast to be sure I don’t spurt out my love the same way I spurt my cum.
While Julie is in the shower a bit later, I decide to return Dex’s call.
He picks up after one ring. “Hey, man! Where are you?”
“Depends who’s asking.” I sigh.
“Your agent,” Dex deadpans.
“Nowhere then…” I laugh. “Were you calling about the Emmy nomination?”
“Nominations!” He says insisting on the S. “You and the show are nominated. You need a reaction, like, now. Can you post on Instagram?”
“Not at this second.” I imagine the tantrum Dex would throw if he knew I was sitting on Jules’s couch in my underwear after having fucked her bareback. Images of her sweet pussy and fiendish smile lodge in my brain and I get hard again. I’m starting to think this will be my natural state around Jules. Trying to come back to the conversation, I add, “But I can tweet something. What about, ‘It’s a huge honor to be nominated yet again for acting in such an incredible show. Couldn't be more proud to be part of it!’”
“Perfect. I’ll deal with scheduling interviews and so on. I’ll email you later.”
“Sounds good, Dex!”
“And don’t be a dickhead and do something stupid.”
“I know, Dex.”
“Also say hi to Julie for me.”
He hangs up before I have the time to answer.
It isn’t my first rodeo with Emmy interviews, and I know the woman interviewing me wants to fuck me. As crazy as it must seem to her, I’m not interested. One of the main reasons—well, other than Jules—is that she is the kind of woman who thinks she can advance her career with celebrity arm candy. The other main reason is that everyone knows she fucked Paul, and I am not touching anything that he’s fucked. Well, except Julie.
Julie and I have been keeping it low-key since last week. I left her apartment earlier than I wished and without having time to discuss what we were doing and how she saw us going forward. After she froze up when I used the L-word and seeing how she was acting "business as usual” during our meetings for the movie, I kind of understood she didn’t want grand gestures and I shouldn’t show any public displays of affection any time soon. But at night, we find time to meet at her apartment and fuck like there’s no tomorrow. After the kitchen, the bed, and the couch, we had sex against every wall possible, even in the shower. Sex with Julie is phenomenal, and by the noises she makes and the way she screams my name, I know it’s the same for her.
I think I can share with her my kinky habits. There’s still a part of me Julie doesn’t know, and I’m scared as shit to open up to her. I need to be sure she won’t tell anyone my secret and let it spread all over the covers of magazines.
The journalist—whose name is Brenda or Berinda or something like that—comes closer to me and caresses my thigh. I shift uncomfortably. Dex reminds her not to touch me so suggestively.
“Speaking of touching, can you tell us more about your relationship with Julie Legg?”
I startle. Julie is on the off-limits topic list, but it’s impossible to say so without giving her more to sniff around.
Clearing my throat to give myself a little more time to think, I finally find the words I know I have to say, even if they’re the furthest from the truth. “There’s nothing to say. We’re just friends.”
Brenda-Berinda’s eyes shine. As the next words come out of her mouth, I realize the set-up she created. “Friends? That's not what one of my sources told me. I heard from someone close to her that you’ve spent a few nights at her apartment. Would you like to comment?”
“No comment,” I answer quickly, looking at Dex for him to save me.
Before he has time to stop the interview, Brenda-Berinda spills her next bomb. “Very well then. We came across some evidence about Joana Rivers’s pregnancy. Any comments on the affair between her and Paul Hoffman?”
Her smile is triumphant as if she knows she dropped a pile of shit on my lap that will burn me to the core. If she’s waiting for a reaction from me, I won’t give her any. As I said, not my first rodeo.
“That is none of my concern and has nothing to do with my Emmy nomination or my current project. I think we’re done here. Thank you for coming to meet me.”
“No problem, Mister Porter, and don’t worry, we’ll say that Miss Legg and you are only friends. Your fans will be relieved to know. Please say hi to Joana for me.”
As a smirk spreads on her face, I decide to sink to her level. “And you to Paul.”
I leave, anger spreading through my veins, and for the first time in my life, I want to punch a woman. My first call has to be to Ryan. If one of Paul’s pieces of meat is about to drop a bomb in the news, he has to speak to Joana as fast as possible.
9 Ian
How do you tell a
good friend of yours that you suspect his girlfriend had sex with the ex of his best friend and might even carry the child of said ex? This is fucked up. I don’t want to be the one telling him about his unborn child. I don’t want to have to do that, but I prefer him hearing it before it’s in every media outlet. And it will be, as soon as Brenda-Berinda decides her soul isn’t worth it anymore and publishes her story, which could be any time now. I don’t want to be the guy who knew a story was about to be published and didn’t tell his friend.
Cowardly, while getting the edge off at the bar, I text Ryan and ask him to meet me at my place. I couldn’t call him and hear his voice right away. I needed a little time to think over what I would say.
I try to remember if something might have been up when I saw Joana and Paul together at a bar around ten months ago, before all the shit went down with Julie. Paul, as usual, was his smug asshole self, but Jo looked surprised to see me. She babbled something about preparing a surprise for Ryan and Julie. Not being very interested in their shit, I shrugged it off and continued my night. Then Ryan announced she was pregnant and that as soon as the baby was born, they’d get married. I didn’t think anything of it. They seemed happy, madly in love.
If Brenda-Berinda is right, I wonder what proof she has. I look at my phone and see Jules called and texted me. Now is not the time to drag her into another drama, and I’d prefer not to have her on my mind when I speak to Ryan. She’ll be devastated and feel guilty when she finds out, but I can’t tell her before Ryan, and I don’t want to have to hide something from her when I talk to her.
When I pull up in front of my house, Ryan is waiting for me. He looks up from his phone and smiles as I approach.
“Man!” He man-hugs me. “I don’t want to put my nose in your shit, but Jules is going to kick your ass for telling a journalist you two are just friends.”
