Page 40 of Best Man on Campus

“Are you going to let me taste you?” I can’t take anything for granted.

“Do you want to? Do you care if I have multiple, magical orgasms, because I can’t—”

“You will.” She doesn’t realize she’s just issued me a challenge, the kind I can’t resist. Or maybe she does. I push her back onto the couch, her head resting on the pillow, and she laughs, looking confident and happy because she thinks she’s in control, like we’re in a competition and she’s winning. It’s the kind of game I avoid playing with women, not how I usually operate, but she’s different, so fucking different.

“Get yourself ready for a ride, Jazzy,” I say as I unzip her pants and slide them from her hips. They’re tight, but she helps by lifting her ass in the air, thrusting her pelvis up at me so I can smell her, sexy and ready, bringing my cock back to life. “Fuck, you’re ready,” I say, sliding her panties and pants down her legs, past her bare feet until all she’s wearing is my hockey jersey.

Sitting on the couch with one of her legs across my lap and the other behind me I take her in, the gorgeous sensual beauty of her, the soft plush skin, the telltale glow of her aroused state, sending my blood rushing and my hands into action.

“You are so fucking beautiful, so sexy.” The words rumble from me, sounding like they come from deep inside my gut, from my core. She stares at me, thrusting her hips up as if she’s daring me, and then bites her bottom lip.

“Damn.” I push one leg over the back of the couch and the other, I lift over my shoulder as I face her pussy. Whatever other hang-ups she has, she’s not shy.

“Go for it, hockey boy. What are you waiting for?” She challenges me, shameless and confident.

Sliding my hands under her ass, I lift her as I bend and leverage her against my elbows resting on the couch cushions for a perfect angle. The strong scent of her wafts and sends me over the top, making my mouth water as I kiss her inner thighs, feeling her heat singe me, my very soul.

She squirms under me, trying to get my mouth to touch her pussy, but I’m taking this slow.

“What do you want, Jazzy? Tell me,” I kiss her thighs and knead the plush flesh of her ass in my hands, feeling a groan of pleasure welling up.

“Lick me, make me come. I dare you.”

Raising my head, I look at her, breathing deep and fast. She’s watching me and brings her hands down to hold my head, bunching my hair in her fists. Then she pushes my face into her pussy and I laugh. She presses harder and I open my mouth, groaning at the sheer deliciousness of her as I lick, stroking my tongue through her folds, lapping up her creamy desire.

She jumps and squirms but still holds my head to her as if she’s afraid I’ll stop. But there’s not a chance in fucking hell of that happening. Not until I feel her shuddering as if the world is coming to an end in orgasmic euphoria. Finding the slick ball of her swollen clit, I circle it with my tongue and hold her bucking hips tight with my hands digging into her ass until I’m worried I’ll bruise her.

She’s panting and making satisfied, pained sounds, like a dying animal, but I know she’s into it because there’s an endless well of creamy pleasure flowing from her as I stroke her with my tongue, up and down the folds and around her clit. She tastes so good.

“No, Ben,” she whispers as she pulls at my hair and I’m not sure if she wants me to stop, but I know she’s close. I lift my head to ask, but she screams. “Don’t you stop, you fucker!”

My cock jumps, encouraged and ecstatic. Her words are pained sobs, she’s near to her shattering point. I lick deep and hard, feeling her tense everywhere, the cry coming deep from her throat as she clenches her legs around my head and I hold her thighs. She bucks under me, calling my name, crying and arching up like a wild horse trying to buck me. But I keep my mouth on her and suck hard, drawing that throbbing marble into my mouth and circling it. Her fingers clutch my hair and she rips at it as she screams, “Nooooo,” and lets out a sob, pushing at me, her sharp nails gaining purchase.

My heart races and I let her go. “Fuck, Jazzy, are you all right?” I couldn’t have hurt her, not physically at least. Her cries were pleasure, not pain, I’m sure of it. But as I lift her and cradle her in my arms, seeing the tears streaming down her face, whatever certainty I had disappears and I hold her tight, soothing her.

“Goddammit, Jazzy, what is it? What has you so terrified?” I whisper into her hair, kissing her, needing her to stop crying to calm, to be whole. I hold her, exhausted, fear that I’ve hurt her whether I meant to or not, knowing she’s broken inside, fragile in spite of her tough exterior.

“Shhhh. I got you baby, you’re all right.” I caress her back and we rock gently until her sobs stop and her hiccups slow and she wipes her face on my shirt and I don’t give a shit as long as she’s soothed.

“Does this mean you’re going to throw me out now?” I whisper into her hair again, breathing in her scent. I have to leave, but I desperately don’t want her to throw me out.

She laughs and shakes her head, still not meeting my eyes, so I tilt her head up.

“You okay? You need me to stay the night?”

She stares at me with those tortured eyes filled with defiance and life and I realize she’s the bravest woman I’ve ever known.

“You can go. I’m … still here. In one piece. Nightmare’s over.” She groans a laugh. “Bet you never thought you’d hear a woman talk about a fucking out-of-this-universe orgasm as a nightmare.”

“No. It’s not that I want to go, but I…” I have to go? I can’t tell her I want to stay and fuck her brains out, get my cock inside her so deep she’ll never forget me. Like I’ll never forget her. I need more from her, but it’s more than she has to give and I feel like a dick about it, so I squash the need.

She pulls away from me and stands. She finds her panties and pulls them on, but leaves her jeans in a heap. My heart stutters and my cock gives a hopeful jerk, but I take a cleansing breath and assert my self-control.

With her hands on her hips, she eyes me up and down and says, “You know, I like your mother. I didn’t tell her we were having sex. In case you were wondering. I’m aware that would be TMI.”

I choke on a laugh, her insertion of my mother into our scene effectively nailing the coffin on my cock’s excitement. I get up and get myself ready to go. She watches me and follows me the few steps to the door.

Standing there, reluctant to leave, I hold her, stroking her back and it feels good, normal, like we’re a couple, like I’ve broken a wild horse. Except for the fact that she won’t let me inside her, physically and figuratively. I’m smart enough to know there’s a connection even if I have no idea how to get past her barriers. But at least she didn’t throw me out tonight, or even try to. That’s something and I’m aware I should leave now before that changes.