Under Her

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Under Her Page 15

by Samantha Towle

She whimpers. And I start to fuck her with my tongue.

  God, I love the way she tastes. The way she feels against my mouth.

  My hand goes to her clit, and I start to rub at her hard nub with my fingers.

  She’s tight around my fingers. Her body is coiled like a spring, ready to go.

  Her legs are trembling, but I don’t let up.

  She’s panting and moaning my name over and over, and it’s the hottest fucking sound ever.

  When she pushes back against my face, fucking my tongue, I know she’s close. When Morgan reaches that point, she’s unabashed about what she wants.

  She wants to come, and she’ll do anything to make that happen. I fucking love that about her.

  I pinch her clit. She cries out, and then her muscles stiffen, her pussy contracting around my tongue as she starts to orgasm.

  I groan as she comes all over my tongue.

  Hot. As. Fuck.

  I get to my feet, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

  She still has her hands against the window, her forehead tipped against it, too, as she tries to catch her breath.

  But I’m not giving her a reprieve.

  I get a condom from my pocket, unzip my pants, and shove them down my hips. I roll the rubber on. Grab hold of her hips. And slam inside her.

  “Wilder!” she cries.

  “Jesus…Morgan…” I groan, stilling inside her.

  I’ll never get used to how good she feels around me. Her channel is as snug as a fucking glove around my cock.

  Warm and wet and mine.

  Something primal tears through me, and I start fucking her hard. Pounding into her. The only sound in my apartment is the slap of our skin as we meet in each hard thrust. And the sound of our labored breaths and lust-crazed moans.

  I let go of her hips and keep up the pace, my hips snapping back and forth.

  I cup her tits over her shirt. Needing to feel skin-on-skin, I grab her shirt and rip it apart. Buttons scatter everywhere.

  “I’ll buy you a new one,” I groan.

  I shove the cups of her bra down and pinch her nipples with my fingers.

  “God…Wilder…you’re driving me crazy…”

  That’s what I like to fucking hear.

  “You like that?”

  “I like everything you do to me,” she whimpers.

  My balls tighten up, and desire drives down my spine.

  I drop one hand to her clit and rub her slick nub with my fingers, knowing I’m getting close.

  But I’m not coming without her.

  She bucks back against me, meeting me thrust for thrust, as I continue to fuck her.

  “Need you to come,” I grind out.

  “Yes…yes…” she chants. “Right…there…Wilder…”

  Her pussy tightens around my cock like a fist as she comes.

  “Fuck…fuck…fuck…” My hand drops from her clit, and I grab her hips and drive in and out of her like a madman. And then I’m coming, and I keep coming. And then I come some more.

  I’m pretty sure I’ve flooded out the condom.

  “Jesus…” I gasp, my head dropping to her shoulder.

  “I know,” she says between breaths.

  I lift my head and press a kiss to the skin below her ear. “Best sex ever,” I tell her.

  Unsure eyes turn to mine. “Really?”

  “Yes.” I kiss her lips. “Really.” Kiss. “It’s never been like this for me before, babe. Our sexual chemistry is off the charts, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Her teeth graze her lower lip. “This…you…it’s my best ever, too.”

  “I’m glad to fucking hear it.”

  She laughs, and I kiss her again because I can’t seem to stop kissing her.

  “We should clean up,” she murmurs against my mouth.

  “Yeah, we should. I came like a motherfucker.”

  She laughs again. “Shower?” she suggests.

  “Definitely.” I reluctantly pull out of her, and then I take hold of her by her hand and lead her toward my bathroom.

  “Fuck.” My head thuds back against the wall of my shower.

  Morgan is on her knees in front of me, my cock in her mouth, and she’s giving me the most spectacular blow job I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a lot of blow jobs over the years.

  Her hand is wrapped around the base of my cock as she bobs her head over it, her tongue swirling and licking it like it’s a fucking lollipop.

  “Jesus…you’re so fucking good at this.”

  She hums around my cock, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

  I can feel my orgasm approaching.

  “Coming,” I warn her.

  I’m not a jerk. I’m not going to come in her mouth unless she wants me to.

  And, apparently, she wants me to because she stays with me, her mouth around my cock, sucking me harder, as she jacks me with her hand at the same time.

  And then I’m coming.

  “Jesus…Morgan!” I cry out. My hand grips hold of her head, fingers tangled in her wet hair, as I shoot my load in her hot mouth.

  When I’m done, she licks me clean. I stare down at her in amazement.

  My limbs are like noodles. I feel boneless. And fucking awesome.

  Morgan kisses her way up my body, licking droplets of water off my chest, until she reaches my mouth. “Was that okay?”

  “Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

  “Take it as a big, fat yes. It was amazing, babe.” I cup her face in my hands, and I kiss her.

  And, no, I don’t care that I just came in her mouth. I fucking love the taste of me on a woman. Even more so on Morgan. Maybe it’s a primal thing.

  She moans into my mouth, her hands winding into my hair, her naked body pressed to mine, and it’s everything I could ever want.

  We kiss for a while until we decide we should really leave the shower. We don’t wash each other, as we agree it would probably end up taking a whole lot longer.

  I wash my body and hair, and I’m done in three seconds flat. So, I get out and wrap a towel around my waist. I brush my teeth while Morgan finishes washing her hair.

  I hear the water turn off, and I hand her a towel as she steps out of my shower.

  “Thanks.” She squeezes the water out of her hair and then wraps a towel around her body.

  “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” she asks. “Mine’s in my case, and I don’t fancy digging it out.”

  “Sure.” I get a new toothbrush out of the cupboard and hand it to her.

  I leave her brushing her teeth, and I go into my bedroom and slip on some pajama pants.

  Thinking about her clothes, I get her a T-shirt of mine to wear so as to save her from having to go through her case.

  She appears in the doorway, sans towel, wearing nothing but a smile.

  “God, you’re fucking hot,” I tell her.

  She smiles shyly. It’s so fucking awesome that she’s confident enough to walk into my bedroom naked, but when I compliment her on her obvious hotness, she goes coy.

  “I got you a T-shirt of mine to wear. Save you from digging through your case for clothes.” I walk over and hand it to her, and of course, I kiss her because I can.

  She pulls on my T-shirt. It falls to her knees.

  “You hungry?” I ask her.

  The last time we ate was on the plane, and that was hours ago.

  “A little.”

  “I can order in if you want.”

  “Sounds great.”

  She follows me into the kitchen where we decide on Chinese food after looking through my many takeout menus.

  I ring the order through. Then, I grab us a couple of beers, and we hit the couch.

  She snuggles up into my side, and I put my arm around her.

  Look at me, being all domesticated and coupley.

  I used to think it would feel weird to be with a woman like this. But being here with Morgan fee
ls as natural as breathing.

  And I’m finding that I like just being with her, talking to her, spending time together as much as I like being inside her.

  I pick up the remote and turn the TV on. “You wanna watch a movie?” I ask her.

  “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

  “We could go new or an old favorite,” I say as I start to flick through Netflix. “Actually, have you seen Breaking Bad?” I ask as I come to a stop on it. “I know it’s not a movie, but Coop has been getting on me to watch it. Apparently, it’s fucking awesome.”

  “I’ve heard it’s really good, too. Put it on.”

  I select the first episode and press play.

  Then, I kick my feet up on the coffee table and take a swig of my beer.

  Life really doesn’t get any better than this. I have the hottest woman I’ve ever known in my arms after having another two amazing orgasms with her, and I have her here, in my apartment, for the whole weekend.

  Nope. It definitely doesn’t get any better than this.

  I have no clue what time it is. But, by the light creeping into the sky, I’d say it’s early morning.

  Time seems to have no relevance while I’m here, in my apartment, with Morgan. And I should be tired after the flight. But I’m not. Not one little bit, and apparently, neither is Morgan.

  We started Breaking Bad with the intention of just watching a few episodes. We ended up watching the whole first season. In between make-out sessions, obviously.

  We had to pause the show a few times as the make-out sessions turned into sex.

  Just like it did half an hour ago when the last episode finished.

  So far, we’ve fucked on my sofa, twice, including this last time. On the kitchen counter when we washed up our plates. And the living room wall on the way back from the kitchen from washing the plates.

  I’m going to have to do a condom run if we keep going at this rate.

  It’s amazing, how much sex we’ve had in such a short space of time.

  I’ve always been the kind of guy who can go a few rounds in quick succession. But, with Morgan, I’ve got the fucking stamina of a stallion.

  We’re lying on the sofa on our sides, facing each other, a blanket covering us. Because, of course, we’re both naked.

  “I don’t think we should get dressed for the rest of the weekend,” I announce.

  Smiling eyes lift to meet mine. “No?”

  “Nope.”

  “What if we order in and one of us has to go to the door?”

  “Well, you’re sure as fuck not. I’m not letting some other guy see these babies.” I cup her tits in my hands and squish them together.

  She giggles.

  “What if it’s a girl delivery person? I don’t want her seeing your…cock.”

  God, I love it when she says cock. She sounds so sweet, which makes the word sound even dirtier. Like when she says, Fuck, or, Make me come, or even just, Wilder. My name has never sounded sweeter or sexier than it does when coming from her lips.

  “Okay, so if it’s a dude delivering, then I’ll go to the door.”

  “And you don’t mind another guy seeing your package while he hands over his package?”

  She grins, and I have to fist-bump her for that.

  “Nicely put. And not at all, babe. I played sports in high school, so I’m used to showing guys my cock.”

  “Is this some new sport that I don’t know about? Because, if it is, I want to hear all about it.”

  “You dirty little perv,” I tease.

  She laughs.

  “I meant, in the showers. Guys aren’t shy about getting naked when they have to shower together after sports. And I have a big cock, so I’ve no need to be shy.”

  “And a serious amount of confidence.”

  “Are you disputing the fact that I have a massive dick?”

  “Never.” She flashes her eyes at me. “So, am I to guess that I’m going to the door if a woman delivers the food?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, you might be comfortable with flashing your junk to complete strangers, but I’m not so keen on showing the girls to strange women.”

  “So, I’m taking it, that would also be a no to bringing the delivery girl inside, so the three of us could act out a porno fantasy of mine?”

  “You ass!” she yells, shoving me in the chest.

  I grab her hands, forcing her to her back, and pin them over her head. I dip my mouth to hers and kiss her. She responds immediately, moaning softly against my lips.

  I fucking love how responsive she is to me.

  I lift my mouth from hers and stare into her eyes. “I was kidding, babe. I’m not sharing you with anyone. Not even a hot delivery girl.”

  She gives me a playful scowl. I kiss her one more time and then fall back onto my side, beside her.

  She turns to face me, putting her hands under her head, a thoughtful look on her face. “Have you ever had a threesome before?” she asks.

  And if that isn’t a loaded question.

  “You really want me to answer?”

  She nods.

  “Yes.”

  She doesn’t react like I thought she would. I honestly expected her to get pissed. But she still looks thoughtful.

  Then, a thought occurs to me. “Have…you?”

  Her lips lift at the corners. “You really want me to answer?” she tosses my words back at me.

  I think for a moment. Do I want to know? Yes, if it was with another girl and guy. No, if it was with two dudes.

  I don’t know why, but the thought of Morgan with two guys makes me want to punch a hole in my wall.

  “Okay, just answer me this…hypothetically, if you did have a threesome…how many vaginas attended this party for three?”

  She pulls her hand out from under her head and holds up one finger.

  “Then, fuck no. I don’t want to know.”

  She chuckles. “Are you jealous at the thought of me being with two guys?”

  “Babe, I’m jealous at the thought of you being with any other guys. Jesus. Was this at Northwestern? ’Cause I was kind of under the impression that you were…”

  “What?” Her eyes narrow a little.

  Word this very carefully, Cross. You’re treading on thin ice here.

  “You just didn’t party much. And I don’t remember you having a boyfriend at college.”

  “I didn’t. And it wasn’t at Northwestern.”

  “Thank God because there might have been a chance I knew the fuckers, and then I’d have to go kick the shit out of them.”

  She smiles and presses her hand to my cheek. “You’re adorable.”

  “I’m not adorable. I’m a total badass. We’ve had this talk already. Do I need to remind you?”

  “Nope.” She presses her lips together, but her shoulders shake with laughter.

  “You’re not good for my ego, you know.”

  “Wild, you don’t need my help with your ego. It’s already bigger than the Grand Canyon.”

  Okay, so maybe I’m a little overly confident. But I have reason to be. I’m fucking awesome.

  And I like that she just called me Wild.

  “Say that again,” I tell her.

  “What?”

  “Wild. You just called me it, and I want to hear you say it again.”

  She tips her head back a touch, and feline-like eyes stare at me. “Is this for ego purposes?”

  “No.” I push my hand under my head, resting on it, and stare back at her. “I just like hearing you say it.”

  She wets her lips with her tongue, and my dick twitches. Then, she moves closer, pressing her hand to my cheek, her thumb dusting over my lips, her own a breath away.

  “Kiss me, Wild,” she whispers.

  So, I do. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her deeply, passionately…wildly.

  When we finally break away, we’re both breathless.

  She rests her head against my chest. I slide my fingers into h
er hair, massaging the back of her head.

  She lets out a sound of contentment, so I keep on massaging.

  “How many girlfriends have you had?” she asks against my chest.

  I stop massaging. “Are we back to this? Because, honestly, babe, I have zero desire to know how many guys you’ve dated.”

  “Three,” she says. “And we were never on it. I just wondered.”

  Three? Did she not just hear what I said?

  Fucking great. Now, I’m wondering who the hell these three guys were.

  But I’m not asking. Because I’m not a masochist. Unlike a little someone who is currently plastered to my chest.

  I let out a sigh and say, “None.”

  Her head comes up. “None?”

  “Nope.”

  “How? I mean, I know you played the field in college—a lot of field—but I guess I just assumed you had at least one girlfriend after college.”

  “I’ve never been interested in tying myself down to just one woman.” Until now. Until you.

  “So, you’ve just spent the last nine years…like you did in college.”

  “Pretty much. You’re actually the first woman I’ve had in my apartment—aside from my mom, that is. But she doesn’t count.”

  “Thank God.”

  She laughs, and the sound is so fucking contagious, it has me laughing, too.

  “I can’t believe you’ve never brought anyone back here before.” She pauses and bites her lip. “So…why did you bring me here then?”

  Crappers. She’s onto me.

  “Because I wanted to.” I shrug.

  “Expand,” she says.

  And I know I’m not getting out of it.

  I blow out a breath. “Because I wanted you here. Better?”

  “A little. Why have you not brought anyone else to your apartment before?”

  “Because I’ve never liked anyone enough to want them here.”

  Her eyes soften. “You like me?”

  “Stop fishing for compliments. You know I like you. I’ve just spent the last few days with either my cock, tongue, or fingers inside you, so I’d say, it’s pretty damn obvious by now that I like you.”

  She’s smiling. “Well, it’s a good thing I like you as well.”

  “You like me?” I point to my chest. “Or him?” I point down to my cock.

  Even though I’m, like, ninety-five percent sure it’s me she likes, I still need to hear her say it, and this was the perfect opportunity to ask.

 

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