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It wasn’t my plan to do this. Even when we had our ‘friends with benefits’ talk, I figured nothing would ever happen. Ours is a transactional relationship that will last for who knows how long, but it was always clear we weren’t really each other’s type.
Until now.
Watching her these past few days, and sitting next to her on the sofa tonight, began to change that, at least for me. The attraction was there and while it could be ignored if I tried really hard, the only one who’s going to stop this is her. If she chooses.
Because I sure as hell am not.
Pushing her onto my bed, I scoot her up to the top of the mattress so she has a pillow supporting her head. Kneeling next to her, I slide her panties down to her feet and toss them to the floor where our other clothes are scattered.
I look at her, from her long brown hair splaying across my pillow, to her round breasts, past her slim waist and bare pussy, to her toes which are, surprisingly, painted red. It’s suddenly hot in my room, really blasted hot. I jump to my feet and slip off my sweats and there we are, naked and looking at each other.
I get back on the bed and her legs spread to make room for me between them. My thumbs fly to her pussy lips, which I pry open to take in her most private parts. Putting her hands behind her legs, she bends her knees and places her feet flat on the bed, lifting her hips, asking for more.
I’d say we’re on the same page.
Pressing my shoulders against her thighs, I hold her open and lick her with long, leisurely strokes from clit to ass. Her breath quickens as she shivers under me, and I lap at her hard little button, making circles around and flicking it until she moans out loud. She tastes so goddamn good and smells even better.
“God, yes,” she breathes.
I look up at her and her head is swinging from one side to the other on the pillow, and she’s holding fistfuls of the sheets underneath. Her responsiveness, as she gets close, is driving me mad.
When I pull back, she gasps and lifts her head. “What are you doing?”
“Play with yourself, baby. I want to see how you make yourself come,” I say, scooting up between her legs so she can see me stroke myself.
Her mouth opens as she watches me palm my cock, stroking from root to head and back, spreading precum over my shaft. She smiles and her own hand flies to her clit, which she starts to rub, slowly at first, and then faster.
“Come on, baby. Come for me,” I groan.
“Oh fuck,” she moans.
With my free hand, I lean over her and cup one of her tits, squeezing it, pulling her nipple again.
I can’t tear my eyes from her. My own orgasm is close to exploding, but I want her to go first, I want to see her work her pussy into oblivion, and scream and shudder right here in frontof me. I want to fuck her too. I’d love nothing more than to slide my cock inside her glistening pussy, but I’ll save that for next time.
She tenses from head to toe and her lips part as she half-laughs, half-moans. Her sounds get louder and she works her pussy harder until her hips buck up so high I need to hold her down.
That’s when I give myself one last, hard stroke and lean over her so I can spurt on her pretty tummy.
“Oh fuck, that is good,” I groan.
Still shaking under me, she watches me come all over her with a satisfied sigh, and when I’m pretty sure I’ve shared my last drop, she runs a finger through my cum and brings it to her mouth, moaning with satisfaction.
Goddamn. What every man dreams of, a woman who likes his cum.
She smiles wickedly at me again and sits up, wiping the cum off her stomach with my sheets. She gets up, kisses my shoulder, and gathers her clothes. Just before she reaches my bedroom door, she turns back and looks at me.
“Good night, Rake,” she says, and I watch her incredible ass disappear as she pulls my bedroom door closed behind her, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened, and how I’m going to sleep on cum-coated sheets.
26
RAKE
“What are you doing?”I ask.
Petal wheels a grocery cart alongside mine, passing me on her way to the produce department. “Don’t you think we each need a cart? You know, so we can get our own stuff?”
“You’re kidding, right?” I lean closer. “We’re supposed to bemarried. Married people put all their food in one cart.”
