by S. E. Rose
I stop and look up at her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers.
We lock eyes as I continue kissing down her belly as my hands gently spread her legs wider. I don’t know how I got this lucky but right now I feel like I have just won the lottery.
Megan
I watch Clark lean down and press soft kisses to the inside of my thigh. My skin pebbles with goose bumps from his light feathery touches. I almost want to groan with frustration because he knows where I want him.
Finally, he leans down over my sex. “I don’t know who I have to thank for you and your perfect body but remind me to write them a letter someday,” he states as his lips cover my clit. I moan as I feel him lick and suck. He pushes a single finger inside me as he continues to do magical things with his tongue. I don’t know where he learned how to do this, but right now all I care about is that he keeps on doing it as long as possible.
When he adds a second finger inside me, I begin to lose control. My hands that were fisted in the sheets fly to his head, keeping him where I want him as I grind myself shamelessly against his face. He doesn’t seem to mind as he doubles down on his efforts. His tongue is doing some crazy pulsing thing against my clit, and Jesus fucking Christ, whatever he’s doing can’t be legal because it feels so good.
He flattens his tongue and runs it down to where his fingers are pumping in and out of me and it makes my body stiffen as I near my release.
He does this one more time before quickly licking my clit over and over while fucking me with his fingers, and I detonate. I also swear that I have an out-of-body experience because my mind goes blank as I feel every muscle in my body shaking before I go completely still and sink into his mattress.
“Fuck that was hot, Megs,” he states as he slowly pulls his fingers out of me and licks them.
“How are you this sexy?” I ask. “How is it legal for you to be this sexy?”
He chuckles as he reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. I reach for it.
“Megs, we need to use protection,” he states.
I sigh. “We will. But I…I haven’t done this before,” I admit, turning pink.
“I sort of guessed that, bunny. That’s why I wanted it to be special.”
I open my mouth and shut it again before deciding what to do. “I have endometriosis. I’ve been on the pill for two years now. So, unless you think you have an STD, we don’t have to use that.”
He sets down the condom and looks at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I shrug. I had been upset when I got diagnosed but also relieved to know what was going on with my body. I could have it way worse than I do, so I suppose I’m lucky and the pill helps keep it in check.
“I’m clean,” he states. “But I’ll use it if you want me to.”
I shake my head. “No, I want my first time to be with you, Clark. And I don’t want anything between us. Just you and me.”
He looks a little sheepish.
“What?”
“I’ve never gone bareback,” he admits. “I don’t know how long I’ll last.” He blushes and I smile up at him.
“I don’t know how long I’ll last either,” I state.
He laughs and leans down to kiss me. Our kiss slowly builds until I forget about my embarrassment. His hands caress my breasts and my hips. I can feel his erection against my wet slit, and I want him to go ahead and do it already, but he takes his time, rubbing himself up and down my sex until I can’t take it a moment longer. And then, as though sensing it, he slowly sinks into me.
I’ve always read it can hurt, but maybe that’s like if you don’t use tampons and vibrators because while it’s a little uncomfortable, it doesn’t hurt. Clark slowly pulls back and pushes in twice more until he’s fully seated inside me.
“You OK?” he asks in between kisses.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Just…keep going.”
And with that, he begins to thrust against me. It takes a moment for us to find our rhythm but shit, when we do, it becomes fucking magical. We’re one hundred percent synced with each other. It’s as though our physical connection has paired with our mental connection and now our souls are entwined in a way that I didn’t think was possible.
All I feel is him, his hot body moving against mine, his cock buried deep inside me, his lips on my lips, his tongue against my tongue. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him deeper.
“Fuck, Megs. I’m gonna come,” he groans.
He grabs my hips and lifts them a little, going deeper inside me as his body glides against my clit and just that small adjustment sets me spiraling. I feel myself trembling again but so much more this time. And when I let go, I free-fall into complete and total bliss. I can feel his cock twitching inside me as my muscles undulate around it. He groans out some variation of my name, but I’m still half gone into the euphoria that is this orgasm.
It takes us a moment to collect ourselves once we regain a conscious state.
He doesn’t pull out of me immediately. Instead, he kisses my lips, cheeks, jaw, and nose. “You have no idea how good you feel. I’ve never felt like this, never had such an intense reaction before,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose along mine.
I sigh as I kiss him.
“Stay here tonight,” he urges. “I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.”
The old me says, “no, I need to go home and study.” But the current me says, “fuck that, you’re staying right here and sleeping in Clark’s arms.”
“OK,” I whisper.
He rolls off of me and offers me a hand. We shower together, cleaning each other, exploring each other’s bodies once more before returning to his bed, blowing out the candles, and snuggling up in the middle of the mattress.
“Go to sleep, bunny,” he whispers as he kisses my forehead and presses me against him, pulling the covers over us. I snuggle against him, feeling the love radiating from his body onto mine. I fall asleep wondering how I got so lucky as to have him come back into my life for a second time and hoping that I don’t fuck it up and lose him again.
Chapter Seventeen
Clark
I roll over to a cold and empty bed. Fuck. I look at my phone. No texts and it’s only six in the morning. Did she leave? I had sort of kicked Grif and Evan out for the night, so when the smell of pancakes hits me, I grin.
I pull on sweatpants, brush my teeth, and walk out to the kitchen.
“Where the fuck did you find stuff to make pancakes?” I ask her as I grip the top of the doorframe and lean in toward the kitchen.
Megan jumps and places a hand on her chest. “Shit, you scared me! You surprisingly had flour and eggs,” she yelps as she turns and looks at me, motioning to my body with the spatula. “Oh, come on. That’s totally unfair.”
“I’m sorry. What’s unfair?” I ask as I release the doorframe and saunter toward her. I wrap my arms around her with her back to my front. I place my head on top of hers and look down at the cartoon-character-shaped pancake. I grin again.
“You can’t look that hot in the morning,” she mumbles.
“First, are you making cartoon-shaped pancakes? And second, pot, meet kettle,” I state as I kiss her neck.
She squirms in my arms. “I’m not sexy in the morning. Hell, I don’t think I’d ever use the word sexy to describe me…ever,” she mutters.
I turn her around and take the pan off the burner. I lean down and she looks up at me. “You don’t think that you’re sexy?”
She shakes her head and shrugs. She’s wearing one of my fraternity t-shirts which is several sizes too big on her. Her hair is piled up on the top of her head with two pencils stuck through it. And she’s wearing glasses.
“You look like a naughty librarian,” I murmur as I lean down and kiss her. “When did you get glasses?”
She laughs. “Tenth grade. I just normally wear contacts. I took them off when I woke up to pee last night. I keep this backup pair of glasses in my purse.” She points to the lit
tle bag that I had slung over my shoulder alongside her last night.
“Well, they are sexy as fuck.”
She blushes and smiles. “Glad you approve. Now, back to the pancakes. We need food before we head to work.”
She turns around and I slap her ass. “Make me some pancakes, breakfast wench!” I say in a fake British accent.
She looks over her shoulder. “Bitches get stitches.”
I laugh and lean down to kiss her cheek. “Fuck, Megladon, I missed you so goddamn much.”
She flips the pancake and places it on my plate. “Your pancake, sir,” she says in an equally bad fake British accent as she curtsies with my plate in her hand.
I take the plate and start to pour maple syrup on the pancake. She reaches for a plate that already has a pancake on it and then grabs the syrup from me. She’s pouring it on her pancake when the idea hits me.
“I have a better idea for breakfast,” I announce as I grab the bottle from her.
She cocks her head to one side and looks at me. I know the second that realization dawns on her. “Oh no, no way. That is going to be so messy.”
“Don’t worry, I got us covered,” I say as I run to the hall closet and grab a towel. I lay it on the floor of the kitchen and motion for her to raise her arms. She complies with a pointed look. I’m rewarded with a very naked Megan. I grin as I start to push my sweatpants down. She grips my hands.
“Let me,” she says. I pull my hands away and she cups my growing erection through my sweatpants before she pushes them slowly down until gravity takes effect and they pool on the floor around my feet. I kick them off and watch her watching me. It’s hot as hell. “I love guys in sweatpants. It’s hot. I always wanted to do that.”
I chuckle and place my hand under her chin. She looks up at me. “You can do that any time you want. And now that I know you like sweatpants, I’m going to wear them all the damn time.”
She giggles for a second until I start pushing her toward the ground. She complies and lies down before me. I take the syrup and drizzle a little over her right nipple. She jumps from the cold sensation before I lick it clean.
“Should have warmed it up first,” I scold as I drizzle some over her left nipple and give it the same attention.
Then I pour it between her legs, spreading it with my fingers. I lean down and start licking her clean. If I thought Megan tasted good, Megan with maple syrup is some sort of next-level experience. I feast on her until she’s crying out my name and then I keep feasting. After she screams again, she pushes my head away. I look at her.
“My turn,” she states as she leans up and pushes me down. I comply and watch as she drizzles a little on my cock. She leans down and runs her tongue from my base to my tip and I nearly come right then.
“Fuck,” I mutter, but I don’t get out another word because she deep throats me, and I’m suddenly overcome by the sensation of her tongue running down my length, her lips wrapped around my cock, and the suction she’s creating.
“Jesus, Meg. How do you know how to do that?” I ask in a low gravelly voice as I try to compose myself and not come in three seconds.
She glances up and lets me pop out of her mouth. I immediately regret asking her a question because right now, I want to be back in that mouth.
“Porn, duh. I was a virgin, not a saint,” she states as though I’m some sort of village idiot before leaning back down and taking me into her throat again. The thought of little innocent Megs watching porn has my mind creating my own raunchy scenes. Why did she have to tell me that?
It only takes a minute or two before I come as I grip her head and fuck her face, groaning her name as I spill in her mouth.
She pulls away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She glances up at the microwave. “We better ‘actually’ eat…and shower.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing as I reach up and grab our pancakes. We eat picnic-style and naked on my kitchen floor. Both of us talk about our favorite shaped pancakes and how we both miss my mom’s Sunday breakfasts after we’d have slumber parties. It takes all my self-control not to call our internship and say we are sick so that I can have my way with her all day. How I’m going to make it nine hours without touching her is a whole other problem.
Chapter Eighteen
Megan
Torture. This is my penance for fucking my former-turned-current-best-friend-slash-boyfriend-or-fuck-buddy? What are we? Now, I’m contemplating that as I stare at the same rendering I was staring at fifteen minutes ago.
“Earth to Megan?”
I look over my screen and find Clark staring at me.
“Are you OK?” he asks. I roll my eyes because he’s smirking like a total ass.
“I’m fine. I just can’t figure out why this hinge isn’t working how it should,” I state. So, it’s sort of a lie. I know why it’s not working, it’s basic physics and geometry. I figured it out fourteen minutes ago and then started daydreaming about Clark.
“You want me to look at it?” he asks, his smirk slowly fading as he walks around to my desk.
“No. I got it. It just took me a minute,” I state quickly clicking some buttons and fixing the rendering before he can see it.
He steps forward and takes a look. “That’s good,” he praises as he watches the mechanics that I have formulated.
“It still needs a little work but it’s getting there.”
He leans over my keyboard to get a better look and I smell his cologne. Why does he have to smell so good? His bicep flexes and I watch it move under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. I think knowing exactly what that bicep looks like when it’s flexing while he’s fucking me makes it even worse. Now, I’m sitting here thinking about sex with Clark. I close my eyes and rub my temples.
“Are you sure that you’re OK?” he asks again. When I open my eyes, I find his face a mere few inches from mine.
“Yeah, I’m fine. A little tired, but I’ll survive.”
“I hope you aren’t too tired,” he quips before pulling away and walking back to his desk. He gives me a quick wink and starts tapping away at his keyboard.
I want to groan. How am I supposed to spend the rest of the semester working with him?
I take a deep breath and go back to work, doing my very best to ignore him for the remainder of the afternoon.
Our supervisor Raquel comes by and we both present to her what we’ve been working on while she asks some questions. It’s nerve-racking. I just want to do well, to have a shot at a job here. It’s like everything I’ve ever worked for is culminating in this very moment, all the fun times that I missed out on, all the trips I didn’t go on, all the hard nights of studying. It all leads to this job, my end goal, and now it’s in my sights.
By five o’clock, I’m exhausted. I just want to go home and sleep. I groggily follow Clark to his car and lean back in the seat, closing my eyes as he drives us back.
“You should take a nap,” Clark suggests.
“I’m trying to.”
“I mean, when you get home,” he states. “Hey, you want to come with me to my parents’ house this weekend? We are renovating it while they are away.”
“You mean, there’s no Moore Saturday party this weekend?” I ask, opening an eye to look at him.
“Nope, well, sort of no. Kent’s hosting it this Saturday, then Lanie, and then Di.”
“I guess so. But not till later. I’m going to spend all morning with Brynn at the library. I have some major catching up to do in at least two classes.”
“Fine. I’ll pick you up at two,” he says as he pulls off the interstate and heads toward the sorority house.
“It’s a date,” I answer before questioning my words. A date. Are we dating? Shit. Now I’m back to this train of thought.
When Clark pulls up to the house, I turn to him. “What are we?” I ask.
Clark puts the car in park and turns to me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…are we fuck buddies?
Are we dating? What is this?” I ask, motioning between us.
“Uh, do we have to label it? Aren’t we just…together?” he asks as though the answer is such a simple one.
“I mean. I guess so.”
“Do you want to be with anyone else?” he inquires with a frown.
I laugh. “No. Just you.”
He smiles. “And I just want to be with you, so I guess that means we are dating.”
“Dating,” I state, letting the word roll around my mouth.
“Is that OK?”
I grin back at him. “I think it is.”
“Labels are an important thing to you, huh?”
Shrugging, I nod. “I just…don’t like unanswered questions.”
He shakes his head and leans over the car’s console. “I’ll call you later,” he states as he presses his lips to mine. Damn, this semester might be the death of me because I’m going to end up devoting as much time to Clark as I do to studying. I’ve never been one who obsesses over things, but I do believe I have my first real obsession…Clark Moore.
Clark
Me: Uh…I have something I need to tell you all.
Kent: I swear to God if you got some girl pregnant.
Lanie: Shut it, KJ. What’s up, C-Dog?
Kylie: How much bail money should I bring?
Di: If you aren’t coming to help this weekend, so help me.
Me: Jesus. You all are dark. I’m dating someone and she’s coming with me this weekend.
Kent: So…not pregnant?
Me: (middle-finger emoji)
Lanie: That’s great. I can’t wait to meet her.
Me: So…you sort of, maybe, already know her. (sheepish-grin emoji)
Di: NO. FUCKING. WAY.
Kylie: Oh, way. I called it! Pay up, beotch!
Me: I haven’t even told you yet.
Kylie: Megan. It’s Megan.
Me: Uh, yeah.
Di: Fuck! Why did I second-guess that?