Pucker Up

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Pucker Up Page 5

by Virna DePaul


  “Are you just going to sit there and hide or are you actually going to let me kiss you this time?” he whispers.

  I watch his fingers trace over my hand, slowly and patiently. If I wanted him to stop, he would hop out of the tub and leave.

  But that’s not what I want.

  I entwine my fingers with his then pull myself up, leaning toward him as much as possible while still ensuring my breasts are covered by bubbles. His eyes drop to my chest anyway, and self-doubt rears its head.

  “You're staring again.”

  The corner of his mouth quirks up and he reaches out his free hand, but stops before touching me. With his hand hovering at my neck, he waits, as if asking permission. I nod and he scoots forward. He caresses the side of my neck, and I gasp the moment he makes contact. He lightly touches my clavicle. Then my shoulder. Then he exerts pressure until I’m leaning back against the tub. I shudder as his hand lowers into the water, and he skims the sides of my breasts, up and down, up and down.

  “You're hiding again.”

  He runs his thumb over the bubbles covering my right nipple. I suck in a breath. He proceeds to methodically remove every trace of bubbles from each of my breasts. His warm touch disappears briefly as he swirls his hand in the water, then he drips water over me. Together, we watch the droplets bead over the fullness of my breast, drip over my nipple, and slide under my flesh, where he catches it with his thumb and swirls it again, around and around.

  I lose all track of time as he does this. He’s uncovering me painstaking bit by painstaking bit. Soon, my legs tangle with his. My head falls back and I sigh with pleasure. My cheeks flush with the heat of the bath and his touch, slow and delicate. He's unraveling me, piece by piece, and I'm helpless to stop it.

  “There,” he finally whispers, leaning back.

  My chest heaves, laid bare before him with nothing to hide behind.

  “I want you to stay just like that,” he murmurs. He scoots even closer, careful not to splash any bubbles on me. He cups my cheek with one hand as his other hand slips out of view under the water. I squirm when his fingers play against my thigh.

  “Stay just like that,” he whispers, devouring my bare breasts with his eyes. “I want to see you just like this.”

  His other hand leaves my cheek to support my back just as he starts to rub my clit. Good thing, because I moan, and if he hadn't been holding me up, I'd be slipping under.

  His touch is feather light as the warm water caresses me. Still stimulating my clit, he slips a finger inside me. I struggle to stay above the surface as he pulses his finger in and out, the water flooding back and forth in the tub. He watches me with such heat in his eyes that I grip the sides of the tub and hold myself up as he adds another finger.

  I want nothing more than to give into the pleasure spreading up my stomach and down to my toes that I hadn’t even realized have curled. I want to fall into the water and drown under his touch, as he mixes the roughness of his fingers driving into me with the gentleness of his thumb massaging my clit. I want to collapse, to sink, to fall.

  But his eyes... His eyes on my breasts holds me in place.

  I hold on tighter even as he brings me to the edge, even as my thighs tighten around him, even as I scream.

  I hold on.

  For him.

  Chapter 7

  Lee

  * * *

  The pressure of a throbbing, rock hard erection in jeans is difficult enough to handle. Turns out it’s ten times worse when those jeans are soaking wet from stepping fully clothed into a bathtub with a naked girl you’ve fantasized about for years.

  An hour ago, I was having dinner and drinking wine with the gorgeous Gina when I’d suddenly been overcome by the knowledge that I had to leave, had to get to Jenna right away, had to show her how I felt about her, finally, once and for all, or something terrible was going to happen.

  Now I’m here, Jenna’s naked, and I can’t believe how fucking lucky I am.

  I’m hoping and praying I’m about to get even luckier.

  The muscles in my shoulders, arms, and hands twitch, wanting nothing more than to direct my palm toward my crotch for some relief, any amount of precious relief.

  But as Jenna’s knuckles turn white from clenching the edges of the tub and her back arches up from the water and the most beautiful scream slips from her lips as she comes, I find I can’t move, despite how much my cock calls for attention. The small of her back jerks against my hand and the warm walls of her vagina clench around my fingers, so tight, so hot, so wet, wetter than the water in the tub if that’s even possible.

  All I can imagine is how it would feel if instead of my fingers it was my dick buried deep inside her. I nearly groan in pain when more blood floods to my crotch, but I relish the sensation. I watch her, transfixed. It’s as if the sight of her body, the feel of her body, the scent of her body as she comes is shorting out my mind and all I can do is stare in awe as her screams turn to whimpers then sighs, and her chest heaves and her tits quiver as she tries to catch her breath.

  It’s her eyes, as they flutter open and look across the tub at me that finally breaks my paralysis. I can move again. I can breathe again. Because when Jenna opens her eyes there isn’t a hint of shyness or hesitation or regret. She doesn’t blush or giggle or turn away in embarrassment. No, her eyes are dark and steady, piercing into me through the thick, steam-filled air between us.

  Her gaze is lit with lust, heat, a challenge.

  A challenge I’m more than willing to accept.

  Just try to fucking stop me.

  I slip my fingers from her pussy and force myself not to grin triumphantly when my pinky grazes her clit and her hips jerk. Moving my other hand from her lower back, I graze my fingers along her sides before reaching for the top button of my shirt.

  “Have you thought about this before, little Jenna Harrison?” I ask her, slowing down my fingers when I catch her biting her lip as her eyes follow my progress. “Have you thought about how I could take you apart with just my fingers?”

  Her eyes flash up to mine, and suddenly I imagine so much emotion in them. Not just desire, but longing. Adoration.

  Love.

  No, that’s not what this is. At least not for her. This is me catching her off guard. This is about too much wine and impulsivity and sex. Damn good sex.

  Isn’t it? My mind is starting to spin, and my fingers freeze, and my heart is beating a panicked rhythm when she says, “I don’t think about you at all, Lee.”

  My heart stops racing. Ah, so we’re back to sparring again. That’s the Jenna I’m familiar with. It’s a Jenna I can work with. Because I might have imagined that look of adoration and love in her eyes, but I didn’t imagine the desire. Jenna wants me. And I’m suddenly damn certain that she’s wanted me, at least wanted my body, for a while now, and that fills me with a cockiness that almost makes me dizzy.

  “No?” I start unbuttoning my shirt again. “All these years we’ve known each other, you’ve never imagined what my cock looks like? What it feels like?”

  My shirt falls open as I reach the final button. Her knuckles turn white again when she once more grips the sides of the tub. I peel the shirt from my shoulders and toss it to the side. I lean forward as if to kiss her and her lips part slightly in anticipation. I stop before our lips touch and search through the water for the laces of my shoe, enjoying the flush that creeps across her cheeks.

  Lips just inches from hers, so close that I can see the tiny droplets of water clinging to her eyelashes and the size of her dilated pupils, I continue as I untie my shoe and slip it off. “You’ve never wondered if I could make you scream? If I could make your toes curl? If I could drive you out of your fucking mind, little Jenna Harrison?”

  “No.” Her voice is weak, shaky, uncertain.

  “No?” I strip off my sock and fling it over my shoulder as my shoe floats next to my leg. Neither of us care enough to move it. It’s all about my body and hers and nothing else
matters. “You’ve never thought of me when you were touching yourself late at night, biting your hand to keep from screaming my name?”

  “You flatter yourself, Lee.” She tries to keep her voice cool and calm, indifferent, but I can feel her nipples harden again against my chest as I reach to untie my other shoe. I grit my teeth and somehow once again refrain from palming my poor, suffering cock. I yank at my laces even as I purposefully shift my chest against her nipples, causing her to hiss in my ear.

  “I’d be willing to bet that you’ve dreamed about me once or twice, little Jenna Harrison.” My other sock follows its partner and I ghost my lips against hers before leaning back to work at my belt buckle. “I’d bet you woke up drenched in sweat with soaking wet panties from all the nasty, filthy things I did to you in your dreams. In the dark of night, in your bed, all alone, I’d bet your nipples were hard just like they are right now.”

  A dark chuckle escapes my lips as Jenna frowns and crosses her arms defiantly over her chest. “From the look of it,” she says as her foot slides along my leg and presses firmly against my erection, “you quite like the thought of all that yourself.”

  I can’t stop my hips from flinching forward. It’s Jenna’s turn to grin.

  “From how hard you are right now, Lee,” she coos, her voice like black silk, “I’d guess it’s your fantasy that I pinch my nipples wishing it was your teeth, squeeze my own throat wishing it was your fingers, fuck my fingers wishing it was your big, fat cock.”

  Her foot rubs up and down my straining length and my breath hitches.

  “But the truth is, Lee,” she whispers, eyes dark in the haze of the bathroom, “I don’t think of you at all.”

  We stare at one another, breathing heavily, skin steaming, bodies hot and ready. My fingers wrap tightly around her ankle and I pull it up to kiss her leg. Her thigh quivers. I grin and lower her foot to move my hands to my waistband.

  “Well, sweetheart,” I whisper, half making a promise, half making a threat. “After this I guarantee you will.”

  Before those smart lips of hers can come up with some witty remark, I yank down my jeans just far enough that my cock springs free. Urgency is riding me now. We’ve been wasting time, teasing one another. Giving each other shit. I can’t wait any more. Can’t keep my dick out of her any longer.

  “Condom?” I grit out, meaning to ask, Do you have a condom in here?, but unable to get out more than the one word. She shakes her head. “I’m on the pill, so if you’re clean—”

  I’m fucking clean, and she knows it now, but not because I say it to her, because I suddenly yank open her legs with one hand, brace my other hand on the back of the tub, and despite the water and our awkward positions, thrust deep inside her. Her mouth falls open on a gasp as I pull out and push back in. Water splashes over the edge in bucketfuls, but neither of us seem to care as I fuck her.

  The tight heat of her pussy, the sting of her nails as they dig into my wrists, the water that splashes up against tits—it’s all so fucking right, so deliciously right. Her legs wrap around me and she locks her feet against my ass, pulling me tighter, deeper, harder into her. The bathroom floor is flooded and I glance for just a second at the pool of water leaking into her bedroom, but then Jenna drags her nails down my back and I lose the ability to focus on anything but her.

  “I have,” she groans, gasping for breath as she looks up at me with hooded eyes. “I have thought about this, about you.”

  “Tell me.”

  I feel myself nearing the edge and from her high pitched whimpers and the way her thighs are contracted against my ribcage, she is too. My hips are losing their rhythm as I chase release.

  “I’ve dreamed about seeing you naked.”

  Her feet kick desperately against my ass as I thrust in faster, deeper.

  “I wanted to see your cock, hard and leaking for me,” she moans and her back arches out of the now shallow water in the tub. “I wanted to see how big you are and I wanted to know how much my pussy would have to stretch to fit your whole length.”

  I groan and my head falls back as I clench my eyes shut, focusing on how she takes me so good.

  “I fantasized about sucking you off, seeing how much I could take before I choked.”

  “Fuck,” I grit my teeth. “Fuck, fuck, Jenna. I’ve wanted this, I’ve—fuck, I’m gonna—”

  “Come on my tits. I want to see your big cock come on my tits,” she gasps.

  I grunt and swiftly sit back, pulling out of her. Chest shaking, I fuck my fist as I use my other hand to rub fast, tight circles over Jenna’s clit. Almost immediately, long strings of cum shoot from my dick, falling across the heaving swells of her breasts. My gaze shoots from that beautiful sight to the even more beautiful sight of her face creased with the pleasure of her own orgasm. Yes. Fuck yes!

  Spent, I sit back on my feet as her whole body shudders then finally relaxes.

  For a minute, we don’t move and simply struggle to catch our breaths.

  Finally, she grins up at me.

  She’s so damn beautiful it kills me.

  I grin back and lazily paint circles around her nipples with my cum. “Well,” I ask, “was it everything you ever imagined it would be?”

  She rolls her eyes and tries to splash water up at me, but by this point there’s hardly any water left in the tub at all. And I have to say I’m pretty damn proud about that fact. Jenna clearly sees that pride written all over my face because she reaches up over her head and twists on the shower head which douses my back with a stream of cold water.

  Perhaps it’s meant to serve as a reality check. But I’m not quite ready for reality yet so I lean over and cup her face under the shower of water and kiss little Jenna Harrison.

  Jenna

  * * *

  I kissed Lee Bowers.

  I mean, yes, I also fucked him. And he fucked me. And we fucked each other. Multiple times. But that’s not the problem. The problem is that I kissed him. And he kissed me. But as I lay here in his arms and try to worry about this problem (which is most certainly a very dire problem indeed) my mind won’t seem to focus the way I think it should.

  At work, when I need to figure out a problem, I simply close my eyes, assess the issue, and come up with a rational and straight forward solution. But when I close my eyes now, with Lee in bed beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist, his legs tangled in mine, his cheek nestled in my wet hair, all I can think about is how, after fucking me, Lee had guided me out of the tub and reached for a towel. Only I hadn’t been ready for reality to intrude so I’d jumped up to sit onto the edge of the vanity, and when I was sure he was watching, spread my legs.

  His eyes had immediately turned dark and like a predator lurking his prey, he’d stalked toward me. His thumb only had to slap my clit three times and I was ready. I gripped the faucet handles and braced my feet against the vanity as he squeezed my tits and fucked me.

  God it had been so fucking amazingly good.

  Every time with Lee had been so fucking amazingly good.

  Warmth and wetness bloomed between my legs and I squirmed in Lee’s arms. Focus, Jenna. You were worrying about how you and Lee had royally fucked up by fucking. And how you’re able to focus on stuff at work.

  When I’m having a hard time focusing during trial it usually helps me to watch the lips of the person speaking. But if I think about Lee’s lips I think about the shivers that traveled down my spine as Lee laid me down on my bed and kissed his way from the tips of my toes to my quivering folds; I'd been so eager for the heat of his tongue.

  My hands entwined in his hair. His nails digging into my thighs. The scent of sex heavy in my room. The way he flicked his tongue—

  I’ll just sleep. That’s it. I’ll just sleep. That’s always the last resort to solving a particularly prickly problem: a good night’s sleep. But the moment I try to close my eyes and let sleep take me, Lee shifts and his palm skims over my hard nipple.

  “Someone’s ready again,” h
e whispers in my ear and I can feel his grin. “I had no idea how horny you are.”

  I reach my hand back to caress his hard cock. “I already knew you were a horny motherfucker,” I reply.

  “Play with my balls,” he murmurs and I giggle before dutifully complying.

  He tugs at my sensitive nipple, making me laugh, and he laughs darkly in my ear. “Don’t like it rough, Jenna?”

  I respond my pulling playfully at his ball sack and he groans. I scrape my nails against his sack with force just past the line of ‘gentle’ and his teeth sink into my earlobe. My chest stutters and I feel myself immediately growing wetter.

  “See,” he whispers, licking where he surely left teeth marks, “you do like it.”

  He twists my nipples until I moan and squirm, navigate myself on my stomach, and raise my hips. When he thrusts inside me from behind, I moan his name before I even realize what I’m doing.

  “Hmm,” he whispers as he fucks me slowly, lazily. “I like the sound of that. I want to hear that again.”

  Just to tease him, I try to keep silent, but when he pinches my nipples and thrusts harder, I moan his name, just like he wanted.

  “So pretty,” he whispers. “I want to claim every inch of you.”

  He tugs at my hair and squeezes my tits and nips at my earlobe until my hands are clutching desperately at the edge of the bed and I am begging him to fuck me faster, harder. In response, he deliberately slows down and I cry out in frustration.

  “I’d love to see you with nipple clamps,” he whispers and I come without warning.

  He fucks me through it as I scream into the pillow and rut my ass against his crotch. He continues to pound into me, grunting in time with his thrusts, and then abruptly pulls out to come all over my back. For a moment, he hovers over me, then shifts so he’s half lying on my side. He caresses my back, and I know he’s spreading his cum on me. When he reaches around and caresses my lips with his cum-soaked finger, I suck his finger into my mouth.

 

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