“All clean?” she asked, her lips inches from mine.
I leaned forward and kissed her.
Although I’d never kissed a woman, not counting chaste kisses from relatives, I understand the basic concept, but had no idea what it felt like to share a sexual kiss. Heaven was the first word that came to mind. Somehow, it did no justice to the soft parting of Brooke’s lips, or the way her hot tongue was waiting for mine, inviting it deeper inside. The tangling snakes of our tongues tumbled in a slow sensual embrace that shot hot heat straight to my feet and ballooned my dick stretching back to full attention. I felt the tip of it touch Brooke’s flat stomach.
“Oh!’ she gasped in my mouth and broke the kiss, looking down. “Already? That was quick,” she giggled. “I mean, really quick. Guys usually take forever to recharge. Are you on Viagra or what?”
“No, I’m on Brooke,” I winked.
She smirked, “Did you just compare me to Viagra?”
It was my turn to offer a slow grin.
“That’s so stupid,” she dismissed with a giggle that was a blatant counter-argument.
“It’s true,” I said earnestly. “You’re all I ever think about. I don’t even look at internet porn. I just close my eyes and think of you.”
“B.S.,” she laughed. “I know boys. You allll look at internet porn. Obsessively. Don’t lie.”
“Okay, I used to look at it. Not anymore. It’s gotten to the point it all seems the same. It’s boring. It seems like I’ve seen it all before. But you? I never get tired of imagining you.”
“Now you don’t have to.” She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against my chest at the same time she grabbed my dick, which I never saw coming because her boobs were blocking my view.
“Ulp!” I would’ve fallen back into the door glass if she hadn’t been holding onto my schlong.
“Easy, cowboy. I know what I’m doing.” She stroked slowly and leaned in for another kiss.
Feeling bold, I grabbed her ass and pulled her close.
“What’re you doing, Mike?” Her lips broke away from mine and she frowned.
“Grabbing your ass,” I grinned.
“Is that what you want? To grab me?”
“I’ve been wanting to grab this ass for years.”
“Grab away.” she purred, her eyes drowsy as she reached up with both arms and twined them around my neck, resuming our rainfall kiss under the ultra-wet shower head.
I massaged her ass, equally aware of how firm it was and how fully erect I was with the deep need to part her cheeks and slide my dick inside her waiting pussy. That wasn’t possible from this angle, or with us pressed together. So I settled on massaging her ass while kissing her.
“Strong hands,” she moaned, her tongue swirling in my mouth. Mine swirled back, the response of “Lots of jerking off” flitted across it and gone before I could actually say it and ruin the moment.
Turned out having her tight stomach rolling side to side gently against my clenching balls and the underside of my shaft was more than enough to light a fire under my ass that torched up into my dick. I did the obvious and started thrusting, grinding against her slippery stomach.
She moaned in response, her voice throaty and feminine and dripping with need. That alone was almost enough to make me come again. I probably would have if I hadn’t already shot two loads in the last fifteen minutes.
“Fuck, Mike. You’re making me so fucking hot I can’t stand it. Get out.” She turned off the shower with finality.
“What?” I mumbled, completely disoriented and disappointed.
“Get out of the shower. I want to fuck in my bed.”
My chest locked up and I stopped breathing.
When you hear the finest, most profound sentence in the English language ever spoken, it stops everything.
Chapter 5
While Brooke toweled off, I did the same with a spare. We draped both towels over the shower doors and she led me into her bedroom, both of us naked and the broken towel rack forgotten.
“Won’t your parents be home soon?” I said carefully. Living next door to Brooke all these years, I had a general sense of when they came and went and that time was fast approaching.
“They won’t care. Half the time they don’t even know I’m here.” She sounded disappointed and annoyed.
“I wish it was like that at my house.”
She grinned, “Oh that’s right. You live with Drill Sergeant Dickweed.”
“Who?” I chuckled.
“That’s what my dad calls your dad.”
“He does?”
“Totally,” she laughed. “Ever since he took over neighborhood watch. My mom too. They hate him.”
“What about after he stopped those burglars at the Acevedo’s?”
She shrugged, “Helping them didn’t make him less of a douche soufflé. I think he wants to bang my mom.”
“What?!” That was non-sequitur news to me. As far as I knew, my dad was devoted to my mom. They were high school sweethearts.
“That’s what my dad is always saying when Mom’s not around.”
I had seen Brooke’s mom plenty of times. She was the MILF version of her daughter. If it hadn’t been for Brooke, I probably would’ve fantasized solely about her mom instead of her. As it was, I fantasized almost exclusively about Brooke. When the mood struck, which was maybe ten percent of the time, you better believe I fantasized about doing her mom, or both of them at the same time. As dense as I could be, I knew enough not to ever tell Brooke.
“Anyway,” Brooke said, “they hate your dad. At least, Mom pretends to. I think she fakes hating him so my dad doesn’t get pissed off.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I shook my head, trying to make sense of what I’d heard earlier. It had finally registered. “You’re saying my dad wants to bang your mom?”
“Who doesn’t?” she smirked. “Wait, you don’t, do you?”
“No!” I blurted.
“You better not,” she winked. “Or I won’t let you fuck me.” With her standing naked in front of me and her bed only inches away, it was easy to be completely ninety percent honest with her.
“The only person I want to have sex with is you, Brooke. I mean it. You’re all I think about.” Ninety percent of the time. I wasn’t perfect.
“Good.” She walked around the bed and bent over, her breasts hanging and swaying slightly. It was an intimate thing to see, something you rarely saw in porn photos or videos of women with large breasts, like somehow it wasn’t attractive, because they resembled hanging utters, which was ridiculous, because they weren’t. They were beautiful breasts no matter how they hung. Brooke didn’t seem to care either way, which made this moment all the more honest and real. “Help me fold the covers back.”
“Oh, right.”
While we did that, she smirked, “If your dad ever hooks up with my mom, I’ll let you know.”
“He’d never do that,” I balked.
“She has her ways.”
“What does that mean?”
After smoothing the folded covers, Brooke stood tall, her magnificent breasts now proudly displayed above her narrow waist, in line with her flaring feminine hips. A perfect hourglass of a naturally full-breasted figure. Tan, young and tight. “Trust me, my mom gets what she wants from men when the mood strikes. If she wants your dad, she’ll get him.”
If her mom looked half as good naked as she did, she was probably right. I didn’t want to think about it. If Dad ever cheated on Mom, it’d break her heart and make me want to kill him twice as much as usual.
“Forget about it,” Brooke said. “That’s their problem.” Her eyes dropped to my crotch. “What happened to your hard on?”
“Oh.” I glanced down. “I guess talking about our parents cheating with each other took my head out of the game, literally.” I chuckled, trying to get back into any mood other than worrying about cheating parents.
She frowned, “I never said anything about your mom being wi
th my dad.”
“Wait, they haven’t—”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not that I know of, anyway. I don’t think my dad would ever do that. Like I said, forget about it. I don’t care about their fucking problems, okay? Let’s focus on me and you.”
I wanted to, but my mind was in turmoil thinking about my parents being unfaithful. I’d never once considered it. They were completely in love with each other. It was painfully obvious. After all these years, they were still faithfully devoted — as far as I knew. Mom and Dad had date night every Saturday without fail. I was one of my few friends whose parents weren’t divorced or on the verge of. With college looming on the horizon, some of my friends with married parents could already sense their parents’ stormy relationships sailing toward the rocks. It wasn’t pretty. Marriage rarely was. I’d never had a girlfriend or any kind of romantic relationship, but even I knew that. Say what you want about my dad, he would never cheat on my mom, not ever.
“What?” Brooke asked.
“It’s… nothing.” I looked down at my soft dick. It was shrinking, crawling back into itself, turtling up for safety.
“Where’d he go?” Brooke giggled. “Did I scare him off?”
“No, it’s just,” I sighed and stood there like a fool.
“I’ll fix that.” Brooke cat-crawled across the bed wearing a wicked grin and nothing else. Again, her breasts hung and swung like sensual pendulums.
I was dying to grab them.
Before I could, Brooke’s face was inches from my shrunken dick. She tickled the tip with her tongue and I lost the ability to move. Seconds later I was lengthening, my dick ratcheting to attention in time with my pounding heart. She cupped my balls with one hand and grabbed the shaft with the other, stroking it lovingly. Her lips closed around the head and worked their way down. The sweet heat of her mouth surprised me. I’d never felt anything like it, not even in the shower under hot water. Brooke was a fuck furnace I would gladly let melt my dick in the heat of her sin.
As overwhelmed as I was by the pure pleasure, part of me wanted to pump my fist in the air and shout victoriously, then tell my friends about my crowning achievement.
I was getting a fucking blowjob!
From the hottest babe in our high school!
Brooke may have graduated three years ago, but she still was, hands down, boobs down, blowjob down, the hottest hottie in the history of Franklin High.
And she was working me over with her infamous DSLs.
That nonsense was blotted out when intense pleasure bled through my body. My head lolled back on my shoulders. Brooke knew what she was doing. Her tongue was something else. No amount of masturbation expertise on my part came close to whatever dick secrets she had figured out.
Earlier, I had come hard in her bathroom, but something different was happening now. The intensity of it was off the charts. My knees were wobbling like I was going to collapse. Somehow, I remained standing while Brooke continued sucking. That I’d come twice already was definitely intensifying my pleasure to the point of madness. This was too good to be true yet it was. I never wanted it to stop.
Brooke pulled away and sat back on her haunches, wiping her lips with her wrist. “That’s all you get.”
“What?” I wondered sleepily.
“It’s my turn for you to go down.” She leaned her hands on her bent brown knees and leaned forward. Something about that made the outside of her hips flare out even more, which was the most feminine thing I’d ever seen. With her full breasts squeezed into cleavage between her straightened arms, her body was divine. “You know what that is, don’t you?”
“Going down?”
She nodded and bit her lip shyly. It was the first time she’d shown me anything other than complete confidence or brash brattiness.
“I can figure it out,” I grinned. I’d practiced oral favors plenty of times in private on dozens of disgraced cantaloupes and over-ripe honey dew melons. I did not ask their consent. Yes, I was a fruit rapist, but you had to practice somehow. At least I’d never fucked any fruit, or any pies. I don’t care what they said in the American Pie movies. I wasn’t fucking dessert with my dick. Pillows were another story.
Brooke sat back on her bed and scooted up to her snowdrift of innocent pillows, sinking into them.
Obviously, I ignored the pillows and leered at Brooke with lecherous intent.
She arched an eyebrow. “Well? Are you going to stand there with your dick twitching or what?”
I crawled onto the bed and made my way up between Brooke’s legs, which were pressed together at the knees. I asked, “May I?”
“Such a gentleman.” She opened them an inch. “You’ll have to take it from here.”
I chuckled and spread her legs apart.
She resisted for a moment then let them fall.
Holy.
Fuck.
There it was.
Brooke Hillstrom’s glistening pussy.
“What?” she tittered nervously. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I snorted. “Everything is perfectly right. I’ve been dreaming of this since forever.”
“Quit dreaming and start eating,” she laughed.
I laid down, resting my weight on my forearms. My face was inches from her vagina. “I can smell it.”
“Don’t say that,” she scowled.
“No, it’s, you smell so good, Brooke.”
She curled a cute smile. “Can you just…? Do your thing already!”
I wasn’t sure what that was because she wasn’t a honey dew, but I was going to figure out how to devour her. Inspiration hit and I slid my arms under her thighs and yanked her hips toward me.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Okay!” she giggled. “This’ll work!”
I lowered my mouth to her luscious lips and licked a line up her wet slit. I’d read enough “how to” internet pages about pussy eating, and had studied female anatomy enough to know where everything was. Feeling everything with your tongue was a different thing entirely.
Her heat hit me first.
Brooke’s legs and hips surrounded my head. She was a dripping oven down here. My tongue went to town, tasting her for the first time.
It was delicious.
She tasted like cinnamon.
Literally like cinnamon with a musky, spicy hint that went straight to my dick. Beneath me, it was twitching and leaking on her sheets. I hoped she didn’t mind.
“Oh, God,” she moaned and shivered. “Right there.”
My tongue had just found her clit. I had read you were supposed to treat a clit like a very small dick. You gave it a miniature blowjob. Compared to what I’d seen online, hers felt quite small, so I settled on licking. Oddly, everything about her was one-hundred percent cinnamon drizzled honey dew. Practice had paid off.
“Oh yes,” she hissed. “Yes, Mike. Keep doing that.”
When it ain’t broke, lick it.
It being the clit.
For the next half hour, I did.
That’s right, thirty full minutes, possibly forty. It wasn’t like I was watching the clock. I was watching Brooke.
I may not have known the first thing about female orgasms from any direct experience, but I knew all about mine. I knew how to edge, to ride the pleasure wave, to draw out the orgasm with expert care until you couldn’t control it anymore and it ripped you along with it, crashing you deep into the orgasmic ocean, drowning you in total sexual pleasure.
Edging was an art form, and I was pretty damn masterful at doing it to myself. Turned out I was pretty damn good at doing it to Brooke too. Whenever she got close to coming, I’d back off just a tad, pause for a moment, lighten my licks, slow my strokes, whatever it took to keep her cresting the wave.
The third time I did it, she gasped in exasperated annoyance. “Why do you keep stopping, Mike?! Fuck! I’m trying to come!”
“I’m not stopping,” I mumbled sloppily.
“I am! Fuck! Make me come already!”
“You’re not ready yet.”
“Yes I am! Do it already!”
“No.”
“Yes! Fuck! I’m ready to explode! Why won’t you let me finish?!”
I answered with my tongue. She’d figure it out soon enough.
“Oh, God,” she moaned.
That was the last time she spoke. For the remainder of her long ride, she could only moan. Toward the end, she couldn’t even manage that.
I’d heard that some guys would get bored of going down on women for this long, and they’d do things like lap the alphabet with their tongues, or play Tic-Tac-Toe with the clit (don’t ask me to explain that one), but honestly, I was mesmerized by Brooke. She undulated under my tongue’s caress, her every movement sending thrills and chills down my body, all of it pooling in my dick and balls, like I was drinking down her pleasure and making it mine. I could never get bored of this. Not ever.
“Yes, Mike! Yes!” Brooke suddenly started to spasm, her thighs pressing hard against my ears. “Oh my God, Mike! I’m coming, Mike! I’m fucking coming!” Her stomach clenched and her shoulders came up off the bed. She knotted my hair in her fingers without lifting my head away from her pussy. I barely noticed the sharp pain in my scalp because I was fighting her bucking hips to keep my tongue on her clit, right where I wanted it.
Without warning, her pussy got incredibly wet, drenching my face. I buried myself in her bush, my nose scraping against the tuft of pubic hair just above her smooth but sloppy wet mound. I licked and swallowed, drinking her cinnamon juices while licking, licking, licking.
She suddenly let go of my hair and her arms shot out to slap the mattress and fist the sheets. “Mike! Fuck! What are you! Mike! Oh my! Mike! I! Mike! Mi! Miiiiiiike!”
If I had to guess, she was coming again, or her orgasm was still going, which was amazing because it had been going for almost a full minute. I’d heard women could have longer orgasms than men, and here was proof. She was still going.
I kept at it, damn proud of myself. All my masturbation had finally paid off big time. And to think, I’d been embarrassed about how much I’d done it over the years. If I’d only known.
Sinful Intentions Page 3