Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Allie's hand smooths over my shoulder and down the side of my arm, and it feels like reassurance, but it hurts like pity.
"I can't fuck you," I blurt, desperate to shove the emotional conversation far, far away. "But I can make you come, if that's what you need. I can make you feel good and push all of this stuff out of your mind so you can sleep."
It's not a polished romantic offer. Stefan could have come up with something much more articulate. It's not fun or flirty like Jonas, or sweet and understanding like Tom. It's a fumbling and raw offer, but she takes it anyway.
It's her hand that guides mine between her legs where she's warm, soft and just a little slick. Not turned on yet, but ready to get that way. I could stroke her clit and turn that slickness into something more, but something takes over me. Something primal.
Getting inside her is suddenly my only focus and if I can't do it with my cock, my fingers will have to be enough. I push one finger deep into her tight little hole until I'm in up to the knuckle and her legs drop open for more. "That feel good?" I ask, pressing against the little bundle of nerves I know will make her eyes roll. When they do, I’m swamped by a rush of addictive power that sends heat raging between my thighs. I add another finger and pump deep, and Allie arches her back until her face is to the headboard and her throat is a long, elegant arch.
"This what you need?"
Allie moans, a breathy sound that makes my cock strain against the material of my shorts.
"You need it hard?"
"Yes."
“You need more?”
She nods.
I add another finger and curl them, pumping deep and fast and making Allie squirm.
"You wanna come on my fingers?"
"Yes."
I reach across with my other hand, and press a thumb to her clit, and Allie's legs drop wider. Her breathing is raspy, her cheeks are flushed, and her tits bounce as she starts to rock her hips.
"Fuck yourself, baby. Use my fingers…let me see what you need."
"Oh, god."
"Come on my fingers, beautiful girl."
"Russ."
"Fuck, you look good."
"I need…"
"Let go. Come for me."
"Fuck, Russell."
"You're so hot. Fucking beautiful." She’s struggling like it’s not quite enough, and I know how she feels. I want more. We both need more. But penetrative sex is out of the question. "Sit on my face, beautiful. I need to taste you."
I don't realize I'm saying the words out loud until Allie scrambles up and straddles my chest. Her face and neck are flushed with desire, and her nipples are so hard beneath her nightgown they could cut glass. She lowers her hips and I lift my head, and she's so close, so fucking close.
"Russell," she moans. "I need..."
"You want it, baby? You need it? Take it."
“I don’t know how.”
“Just move your hips and find what feels good. Use me, honey.”
She rocks against my chin, and the smell of her desire, the sight of her need, is going to be the death of me.
"Russ, I don’t...."
"Take it, beautiful. Take whatever you need."
And then she does. Her hips start to move against my mouth and tongue, and her hands grip the headboard as she rides my face. The feel of her wetness makes me so fucking hard, and the urge to take my cock in my hand and jerk myself off is overwhelming. In one easy movement, I stuff my hand into my shorts and grip my dick, tugging it roughly.
"Jesus, Russ,” she hisses, trying to stay quiet even when she’s so close. “Oh yes. Oh, fuck. I'm coming. I'm coming."
The sound of her pleasure is almost enough to make me blow my load, and I have to pull my hand from my dick, because if I keep going, I'm going to lose it and come all over my stomach.
When Allie's done, her body slumps over mine, her thighs clamped around my head, her forehead resting on the wall above the bed. She's panting and gasping, her body twitching with aftershocks, and I just lie still and hold her around her ass, patting her in a way I hope is reassuring.
"Oh, god, Russell. That was. I mean. Holy shit."
"Shh. I've got you, beautiful. I'm here."
"You made me."
"Yeah."
"I did that. Jesus."
"Shh. Relax."
"Russ."
"Don't try to speak, beautiful. Just breathe." She scrambles down fast, as though she's worried that I’m the one who can't breathe. I don't tell her that this moment, with the most private part of her body spread over my face, is the best of my whole fucking life.
"Can I watch you?" She twists to look at where my cock is still a flaming bar, cupped by my motionless hand.
I should say no. This high school fooling around isn’t right for grown people. But there's something undeniably attractive about starting small and building up. Why race to the finish line when the run up can be this satisfying? "Yes."