This afternoon I told Max to man the security room while I made a quick stop at my storage unit. There’s a whole lot of junk in there, but I was only after one thing in particular. It took some digging and bringing up some really shitty memories, but if this works, it’ll be worth it.
The clanking comes back down the hall and I look up to see Nat wearing my old football uniform. Padded shorts, shoulder pads and helmet included. It’s not so funny anymore, now it’s turning me on.
Looking bothered as hell, she sneers, “Can I take this shit off for now?”
Nodding, I answer, “Yeah. Come here. I’ll help.”
She stomps over to me and I pull the helmet off slowly. Her red hair comes free and her anger-flushed face makes my dick stand to attention. Something about getting this little woman all mussed up makes me happy. And horny as hell. I carefully lift the shoulder pads off her and my gaze lowers to her tiny white tank top. She isn’t wearing a bra and her tits look incredible through the thin material. Throwing the shoulder pads down, I run my thumbs over her nipples. Nat gasps then groans and holds onto my shoulders for support.
Smirking, I slide my hands down her hips to the edge of the shorts and lower them to the ground. My eyes widen a little when she steps out of them and I see she’s wearing a small white lace thong. White lace thong to match her tiny white tank, I’d say. I suddenly want to swallow hard, run my hands down my face and yell, “What are you doing to me?” I feel like I have no control with her. To me, that says there is something different about her. Something I want. But the question is, would I know what to do with her once I had her?
I’ve never been in love. I love people. I mean, I love my brothers and Trick. I love Ceecee and Tatiana. I love my mom and sisters. Hell, I even love the girls in a way, but I don’t know anything about it. I’ve only had one relationship and it lasted a whole week. She wanted things I couldn’t give her. When she told me she loved me, I was almost ill. All I could think of was when my mother would tell my father she loved him. I could tell a person I love them even if I’m not sure what it is, but would it be fair? What does a person in love actually do? I’ve seen Nik both lose his mind with worry and get shot over love. Is that something I want?
Everyone talks about love like it’s this fucking magical thing. All I’ve seen come from love is devastation, worry and heartache. Okay, so Nik and Tina are the exceptions, but all my memories tell me different. I think if I could love, I’d love someone like Nat. But that’s if I could. And I can’t.
My hands span her hips and I look up at her through hooded eyes. Her full lips are parted and her gaze is fixed on my pajama pants. Without asking, she steps back from me and walks over to the refrigerator. I watch her firm and curvy ass in that thong and the need to chase her comes over me. Before I react, she opens the freezer and takes out a tub of ice cream. I smile.
I like the way she thinks. Dirty, dirty girl.
She surprises me by putting the ice cream in the microwave for a minute. I’m officially confused. My eyes narrow and I glare at her.
I want to fuck, not make some strange goopy shit from ice cream.
Once the timer dings, she removes it and smiling, hands it over to me. She walks back to the kitchen and gets a spoon and all I can think is is she fucking serious? I’m not hungry for ice cream!
My eyebrows rise to the hilt when she stops at the edge of the counter, removes her tank to reveal her gorgeous tits and kneels on the hardwood floor. She places the spoon in her mouth and with a smile, begins to crawl over to me.
Oh, I changed my mind. I really want that fucking ice cream.
I thought the sexiest thing I’d ever seen was my come dripping out of Nat’s pussy. I can’t believe she topped it in only a few days. Watching Nat crawl in only a little white lacy thong over to me across the hardwood floor… I’m about ready to embarrass myself by coming like a teenager. I’m leaking enough pre-come to show through my pajama pants, but I don’t care; this is so fucking sexy and I’m likely to never get a show like this one again. I’m going to enjoy this.
When she reaches my knees, I let her take the lead. She places the spoon onto the coffee table, looks up at me through hooded green eyes and whispers, “May I suck your cock please, Asher?”
My head falls back and I groan. The sexiest thing just got sexier. If she asked me to give her a million dollars right now, I’d be robbing a bank in twenty minutes flat. This hold she has on me, it’s not good. I don’t like feeling out of control, but she has this way of making me feel in control, even though I know she’s the one running this show.
Fuck, she’s good.
I nod and she crawls forward, in-between my knees, opens the ice cream container and sets it on the coffee table. I watch in awe as she reaches into my pajama pants to pull my cock free. She grasps it firmly and runs her thumb over the head, smearing pre-come over and around it. My stomach clenches. She tugs the bottom of my tee. I take her hint and pull it over my head, throwing it to the side. Her hands move from my cock to my groin then slide up my stomach to my chest. I like her hands on me. When she touches me, I forget about the scars, because when I look at her, I see it in her eyes; her anger on my behalf. Not her pity.
Breathing heavily, I close my eyes and lift my head. She kisses her way down my chest leaving behind a wet trail. She places a long wet kiss under my bellybutton and I feel it like an electric shock through my dick. Her mouth leaves me for a moment and I feel something cool and wet on my cock. I look down to see Nat licking melted ice cream off me. With slow, long strokes of her tongue, she cleans me then starts all over again. My balls tighten. Placing my forearm over my eyes, I say hoarsely, “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come, girl.”
Nat lifts her mouth off me long enough to respond, “This is only round one, baby.”
With that being all the permission I need, my control breaks. I sit up straighter, lean forward to grip the back of her neck and tell her, “Taking over, pretty girl.”
Gripping her hair, I pull her closer to me and lean back against the sofa. Holding her head steady, I slowly thrust into her mouth, being careful not to gag her. For someone with a sharp tongue that spits acid words, her mouth is actually a bit small. Her eyes are closed and I know she’s enjoying this as much as I am. The need to control rushes over me and I demand, “Touch yourself.”
Moaning around my cock, she reaches down between her legs and rubs her pussy with the heel of her palm. My spine tingles. Won’t be long now. Her perfect mouth is smeared with melted ice cream. “So dirty. My dirty girl. Fuck. I love your mouth, babe,” I whisper hoarsely.
The vibrations of her moans drive me over the edge. I thrust deeper into her mouth and move my hands to cup her cheeks. My body tingles in bliss and as my balls tighten, I tell her, “Coming on your tits, pretty girl.”
As soon as the first contraction of my orgasm hits, I pull her head back and stroke my cock over her chest. Looking down at her puffy red lips and hooded gaze takes me there. I stroke myself hard and fast and spurt my cream all over her chest, groaning all the while. Nat swipes her hand across her chest then brings her hand to her mouth, licking it up.
Standing on clearly wobbly legs, she says, “Shower,” then walks down the hall. I hear the shower turn on and smirking, I lift my light body off the sofa and follow the sound of Nat’s hypnotic humming.
Pajama parties. We should do ‘em every night.
After he used his mouth to make me come in the shower, Ash made me wear the damn shoulder pads and padded pants to bed. I refused to put on the helmet. There’s no way I’d be able to sleep like that!
We spent a minute or two arguing, but he gave in, stating he was too tired to deal with my bullshit.
Once we settled in bed, which was hard because of all the extra shit I was wearing, my mouth spoke before I had a chance to stop it. “I know you don’t like to talk about it, but if you ever want to talk about what happened to you, I’m actually a good listener.”
The hand that strokes my hair stills a moment before he resumes petting me like a kitten. “It’s fucked up. You sure you want to hear it?” he says quietly.
My eyes widen and I whisper, “Yeah. But only if you want to talk about it.”
Silence. He sighs then starts, “Dad was always careful not to burn my arms because teachers would notice.”
My body stiffens at his admission and my heart shatters to a million pieces.
This is worse than I thought. The state of his scars makes it look like he’d been in a horrific accident. Now knowing he got each of those scars over multiple occasions… My heart is broken. How can someone do that to their own child?
He doesn’t say anything for a long while, then he quietly admits, “I don’t want to talk about this right now. It might bring on a nightmare. Let’s just see if tonight goes well, then…”
He doesn’t have to say anything more. I get it. Now that I know where the nightmares stem from, I definitely don’t want to push him to say any more than he wants to.
Turning my head to the side a little, I kiss his chest. “Goodnight, Ash.”
I close my eyes and hear him whisper, “Night, babe.”
Then I pray that tomorrow will come easily for him.
Them stupid fucking feels
Someone is trying to undress me. And I’m so tired that I actually don’t give a shit.
Undress me as you please, phantom boogey man.
My pants come off in one quick tug and something bulky is lifted from my shoulders. My tank is next to go and I’m pulled back into something warm and hard. Arms come around my waist and I’m startled awake when someone whispers huskily into my ear, “Wake up, pretty girl.”
My eyes open wide when, what is definitely an erection, rests between the cheeks of my ass. Then I remember. “You didn’t wake up! It’s morning!” I gasp excitedly.
Asher chuckles in my ear. “I guess you were right. You did cure me.” Palming my butt, he continues, “I’d say that’s cause to celebrate.” And in one swift movement, he slides his thick shaft into my ready-and-waiting pussy.
We both groan as he pulls me further into him. My back rests against his chest as he rocks into me. I roll my hips back to take him deeper. His arms tightly wrap around me and we work together, thrusting and rocking for what seems like hours. It’s not the fast and furious fucking we normally prefer, but I make an exception. It is morning after all. Who can be bothered?
When Ash bands one arm around my chest and lowers the other to softly stroke my clit, I push myself back even deeper onto him and moan. My stomach clenches and I feel a pleasant warmth rush over me. Without warning, my orgasm comes hard and fast. My channel pulses around him and he groans into my ear. His thrusting slows and he wraps me tight as he stills. He silently jerks his release into me.
Both breathing heavily, I relax back into him and he says, “That’s what I call a fucking good morning.”
Chuckling, I state sleepily, “So happy for you, Ash. No more nightmares. Maybe now you won’t be such an ass all the time – what with all the sleep you’ll be getting.”
His body shakes in silent laughter and I smile. This is nice. I’m feeling all warm and fluttery and it’s not the after-effects of a great morning orgasm. It’s something more.
This is why I didn’t want to do this with Ash. It was only a matter of time before I started feeling gooey, icky shit for him. I liked him the first time we fucked, and that’s why I cut him off. Seven months without him around was torture, but my mom always told me that sometimes you have to walk away from what you want in order to find what you deserve.
Well, I did that Mama…and I found Cole.
Maybe what I thought I wanted is actually what I deserve too. Ash is different when he’s with me. I no longer see him as the confrontational person I once did. Now I see him as an untrustworthy person with good reason. After finding out a little about what happened to him when he was younger, it makes me wonder how he came out of it without becoming a psychopathic serial killer. If any of that had happened to me, I’d be a wreck. Ash actually seems like he’s got his shit together in an I don’t trust anyone kind of way. But he confided in me. I smile. He trusts me.
“I have no idea what the fuck you’re thinking about, but stop. Now.”
Smiling harder, I reply, “Got lost in my head for a second and, by the way, you can’t order me to stop thinking.”
Still wrapped up in him, his softening cock starts to slip from me. He nuzzles the side of my neck, breathing me in and says matter-of-factly, “Sure I can. I always get what I want.”
Without any good reason at all, this irritates me. It sounds as if he’s playing a game with me and my feelings. I know he isn’t, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I pull away from him, and buck naked, stand at the edge of the bed and point to the door. I bark, “Get out.”
His sleepily eyes open and he mutters, “The fuck I say now?” My heart races and my face flushes. I thrust my hand toward the door and he scowls at me. Sitting up, he says, “You know if I wanted to deal with this kinda bullshit, I’d get a girlfriend.”
As I walk into the bathroom, I yell back, “Don’t come over tonight. Or tomorrow. I’ll call you when I want a cheap lay.” Then I lock myself in the bathroom, turn on the shower and stay under the hot stream for as long as I can before the water turns cold.
I think about what I just did and cringe. Surely, he knows now. He has to know that this is something more to me. Acting as my non-boyfriend is all well and good, but shit just got serious. I’m going to lose him before I even got him.
Fuck it! Who cares if he knows? We’ll blame it on estrogen. That shit gets blamed for everything.