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Willette laughs, loud enough to cut through the silence but there’s still a softness to it. I quite enjoy her laugh. I’m not sure I ever noticed how pleasant it is until now. I once attempted to date this very beautiful woman. She was pristine. But when she laughed, it sounded like a distressed donkey. And I tell you, there isn’t enough beauty in the world to mask an ugly laugh. I know it seems strange but I like laughing, and I like making the woman I’m with laugh. So it needs to be pleasant to the ears. No one relishes making a person laugh, if it actually sounds like they’re a dying animal.
After removing our shoes and a few layers of clothing, we snuggle into bed. Willette is folded into me, my arm wrapped around her middle. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fall asleep like this. For one thing, her ass keeps rubbing against my dick. And as if that’s not distracting enough, her hair is tickling my face. The hair I can probably deal with, but the ass wiggles have to stop.
“If you don’t stop doing that, we’re going to have a problem,” I admit. Willette’s body stills, her breath hitching in her chest.
“What if I want a problem?” she teases, or rather torments. She pushes back against me, slower this time, more deliberately and something akin to a growl escapes me.Christ.
I turn her around, taking in the sight of her face, the mischievous smirk on her lips, the twinkle in her eye that tells me she wants me. I kiss her hard, parting her lips. She fists my shirt, pulling me closer.
“I don’t want to have sex with you,” I say, interrupting the kiss.
“Oh,” she says.
“Wait, no,” I correct. “That came out wrong. I mean, I don’t want to have sex with you for the very first time in my brother’s guest bedroom with a house full of people.”
Willette giggles. “It’s not ideal, no.” She nibbles my lips, teasing me, taunting me.
“But maybe…” I whisper. “Maybe one little touch.”
I cover her mouth with mine again, my fingers trailing down between her tits and lower, across the expanse of her tummy and around her bellybutton. Her breath is ragged against my mouth, and as I dip my hand lower, playing with the edge of her panties, a whimper escapes her and it’s the most delicious sound.
Pressing my thumb into her hip, I tease back, running my fingers across her sensitive skin again and again. With each pass, my fingers drop lower, causing her back to arch. She presses her body toward me, silently begging.
“Please,” she whispers. “Touch me.”
I can’t control myself any longer, not even for the sake of this erotic little game I’ve started. My fingers plunge deeper, parting her, rubbing circles over her. Willette stifles a cry with her own hand. I watch her face twist in pleasure, my fingers slick with her wetness. I flick back and forth as her nails dig into my shoulders.
“You wanna know a secret?” I whisper against her mouth.
She nods, too preoccupied to form words.
“That little tattoo you have on your thigh, the one of the cherries,” I say, licking her lips with my tongue. “The one you can only see when you’re wearing that little bikini of yours or those lacy black panties,” I nibble her bottom lip, her muffled moans growing slightly louder. “That little tattoo. Drives. Me. Wild,” I say, pausing between each word for emphasis, my fingers matching the rhythm of my words.
Willette’s head flies back, her neck exposed to me. I kiss her throat, slide my teeth over her flesh as she grips me tighter. Her body reacts deliciously to my touch, arching and bowing, twitching and writhing. She wants more and she wants relief all at once. I quicken my pace, eager for her orgasm. As her moans grow louder, I press my hand against her mouth. It’s not that I care if anyone hears, but there’s an appeal to the secretive touching, the sneakiness. It does something to the senses.
I see it in her eyes now, the way it’s building. She’s almost there. I replace my hand over her mouth with mine as her body shudders, unraveling under my touch. After a few silent moments, I wrap my arms around her, holding her as she soaks in all the sensation coursing through her body. Sensations I caused. I take pride in being the cause.
Will’s breathing is jagged, still regulating, when she slips out an expletive. “Fuck,” she says on an exhale.
I smile wide, unable to hide the fact that I’m quite pleased with myself.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t do that.” She laughs.
I wiggle my eyebrows back and forth, still smiling. “Do what?”
She laughs again, this time louder, cupping her mouth. “You know what.”
A sobering look comes over her face after a moment, her eyes turning a bit serious. She reaches up, kissing my lips more gently and exhaling. I wait, thinking she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t. She just stares at me for a long several minutes, her expression akin to adoration or something similar.
She folds herself back into me, this time face-to-face, our arms draped over the other. And sometime after that, maybe thirty seconds, maybe ten minutes, we drift to sleep.
GONER
WILL
Idon’t know what time it is. It could be thirty minutes after we fell asleep and it could be almost sunrise. All I know is I woke up, curled into Derek, his arms wrapped tightly around me. And for whatever reason, I can’t go back to sleep.
Derek doesn’t snore, which surprises me. I assumed most everyone snored at least a little. Of course his perfection extends to unconsciousness. I’m even pretty sure I do but that’s not confirmed. Derek’s breathing is slow and steady. His chest rises and falls against me. It’s soothing in an unexpected way. His simplepresenceis soothing to me.
