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I roll onto my back, bringing her with me until she’s splayed across my chest. Her hair prickles my skin, the ends brushing my nipple. Her breath tickles my chin and neck, cooling everywhere that I’m too hot. My jeans feel tight, so uncomfortable I have to push them farther down my legs, expose more of my thighs and all of my boxers. She slides her finger up the shiny white line of my scar and I shudder, full-bodied and more aroused than I thought possible. A dark spot blooms on the fabric of my underwear.
“Sorry,” she whispers, moving her hand away from the scar.
“No.” I stop her hand, put it back where it was. “I like it.”
“Again?”
“Yeah.”
She rubs the tip of her finger down the scar again and again, and a shiver moves through my body, up my spine. She straddles my legs and drags her hand, nails pressed gently into my skin down my thigh.
“Holy.”I grab my dick, squeezing once, hard. Her eyes are bright, her skin flushed. She’s entirely at ease, her naked body straddled over mine, her nipples peaked and pink. Lulu runs her nails over my legs, my stomach. She rubs her hands through my chest hair, and it could just be the prolonged dry spell I’d had before her or the confusing feelings I have for her or just her, Lulu, herself, but my cock feels everything.
“Use your nails,” I gasp as she runs her hands down my stomach again. “On my chest.”
She does, softly, then harder. Hard enough that I know there will be marks on my skin long after we’re done. I arch up into her, pull my cock out, spreading the come at the tip around the head. Lulu leans over the bed to grab more lube and her hair brushes my stomach. Every new sensation unlocks something new inside me, some new way to feel pleasure. Lulu pours lube over my cock and hands. She scratches her nails down my chest, feathers the tickler under my chin and over my collarbone.
“Blow on me,” I beg and she stops, a small frown between her eyes. I purse my lips. “Air, blow air on me.”
And without hesitation, she does. She leans over me and blows over my chest, my stomach. She blows across my cock, the feeling like a touch, and I grip myself harder, fuck my hand harder. My legs saw beneath her. “Baby, please.”
She smiles, her breath hot across my cock, my balls, like I am a birthday candle, like I’m made of wishes. And for her, in this moment, I am. I’d give her anything she asked for.
Her hands roam along my thighs, up through my leg hair and close, dangerously close to where my balls are tucked and tight. I come from the thought of it, her hands on me, her breath across my skin. I moan out sounds and curses until I’m sticky and hoarse.
Lulu lies down beside me, her hand under her cheek, watching me as I catch my breath.
“You called me baby,” she says a little later.
My face heats. “Sorry about that.” But she doesn’t seem upset, just curious.
“I didn’t mind.”
“Did I distract you?”
Her whole face lights up. “You did.”
“Are we the type of friends that tell each other about what we need distraction from?” I ask. Even in this soft light, I can see her blush, and not from the pleasure that’s still lingering in the balls of my feet, my hips, and the palms of my hands.
“No,” she says softly.
Now, it’s my turn to blush. “OK.”
“It’s just...embarrassing. Like, look at my life. Look at how lucky I am.” She throws her hand out, as if to saylook at all this. “What do I have to complain about, you know?”
Where we were hot and sticky before, now my skin is starting to cool. But mostly I need the distraction of movement, of walking the three steps to the bathroom, running the water over my hand until it’s warm. Soaking the first washcloth and wringing it out, wiping myself clean. Soaking the second and bringing it to Lulu. She has goose bumps, too, so I pull back the comforter with the little blue flowers and Lulu gets in. I pull on my underwear and she pouts until I lie back on top of the covers.
“When I was a kid I used to feel bad,” I say. “For not having parents.” I’m still not sure exactly what I want to say until I say it, but she gives me the space and time to get it out. “I didn’t have parents, but I had grandparents who stepped up and gave me everything I could ever ask for. I didn’t think I was allowed to be sad about my parents when things worked out for me. I could have ended up in the system, with no one. But my grandma liked to remind me that just because someone else had it worse didn’t make my feelings any less important.”
Crickets chirp outside and my heart aches in this moment for my grandmother. For her quiet, like mine.
Lu sighs. “Do you ever feel like no one wants you around?”
I feel the opposite. Like I could go hours, days, weeks, with no one around. “What do you want?” I ask instead.
Lu’s brow furrows like it always does when she thinks really hard about something. “I guess I haven’t asked myself that question. What about you?”
I shrug. “I have no clue.” A copout. What I want is to feel comfortable in my skin again. To be able to be alone without feeling lonely.
