So Screwed

by Melissa Marino

  She bit her lower lip as I crawled toward her, kissing my way up her leg, thigh, and stopping to lick across the lace edge of her panties. My thumb dipped down, running across the center of her and feeling her wet with want for me through the silk fabric.

  Her head lowered to the pillows, arching her back off the bed the more I teased her. I couldn’t tease anymore. My dick was pounding, pleading before I lost all control. I slid my fingers across her hips and under the thin strips of her panties, pulling them down forcefully.

  “Come here, beautiful,” I said, moving up toward her.

  I positioned myself above her and bent my head down to kiss her. She reached between us and began stroking my cock, a firm and steady rhythm, which alone almost completely undid me. My hand joined hers, moving together until I couldn’t take it anymore and gradually eased myself into her.

  We both let out simultaneous moans as I continued bringing myself deeper and deeper, her fitting around me in the most perfect way. I pulled back and pushed in as she began rocking her hips back and forth to match my movements. Beat for beat, we danced to our own music, something so unique it made my chest ache.

  Her legs wrapped around me as I pushed myself harder, deeper, watching her face for any indication it was too much.

  “You feel so good,” she whispered.

  This wasn’t just fucking. I’d had good sex before, blind fucking with someone beautiful. No, this was different. The smell of her skin, the remnants of perfume lingering around us, her soft skin, and the way she knew how to move with me—it all came together. Even if I never had her again, I knew I’d always remember this girl for the way she lit me up and how she was no match for anyone else that had been in my bed before her.

  I wanted to feel more, get even deeper. “Roll over,” I said, my voice strained. “I want you from behind.”

  I pulled out of her, as she turned and raised her ass off the bed. She flipped her head around to look at me, her face flushed and her hair wild. Sex hair.

  Her ass was fucking flawless, a perfect view as I guided myself back into her. I was right. Deeper and a more vocal reaction from her. I gripped her hips and thrusted faster, feeling my orgasm only a few beats away.

  “Fuck, beautiful,” I said. “Are you close because I can’t—”

  I stopped mid-sentence as I saw her bring her hand between her legs and start rubbing her clit. “So close,” she said.

  The sounds of skin on skin and our rough, breathless voices took over the entire room until there was nothing but her loud cries of coming. She was still rocking into me as she tightened around my cock, and I became utterly undone. A guttural sound from an unlocked place in my body cried out as I came, driving into her until I peaked and started to come down.

  Our rhythm slowed, both of us struggling to catch our breath, while I stayed in her for as long as I could.

  “Shit,” I said, panting. “Do they make custom-built vaginas? Because I think we got that on lock.”

  She wiggled away from me but pushed up on her knees. Her head turned and she kissed my neck, her damp skin meeting mine.

  “Who knew?” she said. “Well done, sir.”

  “I would very much like to do that again once I recover.”

  “Me, too,” she giggled.

  Her eyes looked up to me, and I bent my head to kiss her. “And again.”

  “Agreed.”

  Kiss.

  “Again.”

  Kiss.

  “Often and longer and again.”

  Kiss.

  Before I said it again, she bit on my lower lip gently, teasing before releasing. “Game on, handsome,” she said, kissing me quickly on the cheek.

  I watched as she moved from me and off the bed. She bent down to the floor, I assumed looking for her clothes, but she picked up my shirt instead.

  “Back in a second,” she said, walking out of the room, tossing my shirt on as she did.

  Before I could tell her that there was a bathroom connected to the bedroom she was out, so I made a quick trip while she was gone. My dick was still in recovery mode when I entered the bathroom, wondering what kind of glorious event I’d just put it through. After a splash of water to the face, condom disposal, and a new pair of boxers, because I didn’t care what anyone said, no chick wanted to see a dude they just banged walking around with a semi-flaccid penis, I went back in.

  She was already back, laying on top of the wrinkled sheets with my shirt hanging out, exposing the sides of her breasts, breasts that I missed seeing for the 2.4 minutes I’d been apart from them.

  “Want a little sugar?” she asked.

  She had our desserts from RM on a plate next to her, but was holding the cream puff in her hand, licking the filling from her fingers. Just when I thought she couldn’t get sexier, she did.

  “I do,” I said, sliding into the bed next to her.

  She held the cream puff out to me, but just as I went to take a bite, she yanked it away from me. “Hey,” I pouted.

  “Sorry,” she laughed. “Here,” she said, holding it out to me again. But for the second time, she pulled it away.

  “Two can play at that.”

  I slid my hand across her tight, soft stomach, dragging my fingers across the skin. Goose bumps erupted all over her, and I knew I found a sensitive spot on her. The sides of my shirt that were covering her fell open, making it easy for me to lean down and kiss around her breast. Using my tongue, I worked my way downward, tracing my tongue around the edge of her nipple while she began to squirm next to me.

  “Okay,” she said, her breathing quickening. “I’ll share.”

  “Nope. You had your chance.”

  I picked up the plate of the macaroons and put them next to me on the nightstand. She still held the cream puff as I moved myself above her body. I bent my head to taste her skin between her breasts, working my way back down, feeling the heat of her body radiate onto mine.

  Her hips started moving again, up and down as I went down…down. Her pussy was clean-shaven, not completely bald, but perfect for what I wanted to do. I slid farther until my tongue was right by her clit.

  I looked up at her, making sure it was okay, and her eyes were already dreamy, sexed. The moment my tongue hit the right spot, her hips raised up to meet me. A soft giggle came from her, no doubt from my beard that I was sure took some getting used to.

  She was so fucking wet for me, and I wanted nothing more than to thank her for that. Her hand gripped the top of my hair as I worked my magic, sucking and tasting every bit of her. I followed the rhythm of her hips and wanting her to show me how she liked it. It was a quick crescendo, the rise of her moans, and the rapid movements of her body, to let me know how close she was.

  I adjusted ever so slightly, and it was all she needed. She gave a shout-out to God, me, and an unnamed person called Motherfucker as she came against my mouth. She rode it out like a champ, and I didn’t stop until she started to come down.

  “Damn,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  I slid up, bringing myself next to her. Her face was flushed, pink cheeks that made her look beautiful all fucking naked against my white sheets. And she was still holding that fucking cream puff.

  With her dazed, I leaned over and took a bite without her even having time to realize what I was doing. I could still taste her, and now it really was all sugar.

  “You want the rest?” she asked.

  “Nope. I’m good now.”

  She set the rest of it down on her side table and laughed, shaking her head.

  My grin must’ve come across as arrogance because she punched my chest. “Cocky asshole,” she said. “Let me ask you a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “So, the beard.”

  “Yes. I’m aware I have one.”

  “Shut up. I hope this isn’t inappropriate, but considering you had your dick in me only a few minutes ago, I think I should get a pass.”

  “By all means.”

  “So, the beard wh
en you go down on a girl. How does that work?”

  I rubbed my hand down the side of it, wondering how to answer. “Well…you were just a recipient of it, so maybe you should tell me.”

  “Don’t go fishing, handsome. I already told you it was a job well done. But I’ve never been with a guy who’s had one. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it might be. A little tickle, a little brush…you know. But do you get…me…all over it?”

  She cast her eyes downward, but after a moment, she peeked at me through her lashes. No matter how confident she was, she was definitely embarrassed.

  “Sometimes,” I answered, offering no more unless she asked.

  “Sometimes? You mean, depends on how into it you are?”

  “Yeah. Or if I do it at all.”

  “It isn’t part of your normal repertoire?”

  I winked. “Only for the special ones.”

  She rolled her eyes. I loved that she didn’t buy into any bullshit, even if in this case, it was true. It occurred to me that it seemed she might have had some practice at it, not just at detecting a line, but at sex. She was too good at both.

  “I’m honored,” she said.

  My hand slid around her waist, and I pulled her close. “Why don’t you just ask me what you really want to ask?”

  Her eyebrows raised. “I did.”

  “You want to know if I’ll be able to still taste you even when I’m done.”

  Her breath hitched, and her lips formed an O.

  “Flavor-saver, beautiful.”

  “Oh,” she said. Her eyes scanned the ceiling, mulling over what it all meant. She shrugged before kissing the side of my head and wiggling out from next to me. “This was fun,” she said.

  She slipped my shirt off and tossed it on top of the sheets before slipping out of the bed. I watched her bend down, her tight ass putting on a show for me.

  “Where the hell did you throw my undies?” she asked.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Why?”

  She found her bra and turned to me while she put it on. “Home.”

  “And why would you want to do that?”

  It was usually me making excuses to sneak out, or it was me laying in the bed, trying to think of ways to get her to leave. But with this girl, I didn’t want her anywhere else but in my bed.

  “Ah! Found them.” Her panties were at the foot of the bed. She pulled them on and stood with her hands on her hips. “You don’t need to be all sweet and make it seem like you don’t want me to go.”

  She was much too smart at the game for my own good. It freaked me the fuck out.

  “I don’t want you to go. Stay,” I said hesitantly.

  Maybe she really didn’t want to. Maybe she was one of those rare breeds of women that thought like a guy. I wondered if Wild Kingdom was aware of this phenomena.

  I moved to the side and got up, walking to her. “I’m serious,” I said, grabbing her by the hips and bringing her close. “Stay with me.”

  Her eyes fluttered across my face, looking for something to hint at bullshit. “Make sure I’m up in time to get home and ready to make it to the wedding I’m working tomorrow at noon?”

  “Promise,” I said, holding out my pinkie, waiting for her to intertwine hers. Once she did, I gave her ass a tap. “Now get that perfect ass back in my bed.”

  * * *

  I was dreaming of a scantily clad Evelyn, on her knees, in the middle of an empty Wrigley Field, blowing me. The sun warming my face and the feel of her mouth around my dick made me rock my hips as I barely began to wake up.

  The vision of her began to darken, but the sensation of her lips working me up and down stayed front and center. It was as if it was…

  My eyes opened, and there she was, like I just imagined, with my cock in her mouth. So, it wasn’t Wrigley Field, but it was so much better with her in real time and still naked from our all-night fuckfest.

  She was looking up at me, the slightest hint of a smile lifting the sides of her lips. I brushed her hair away from the side of her face, running my finger down her cheek, as I felt her bring me deeper and deeper into her mouth.

  “Fuck, Evelyn,” I growled.

  She took as much of me in as she could and used her hand to pump the rest. When she needed to pause, her hand didn’t. Firm and fast movements, as her tongue swirled around the tip, and her eyes remained on mine. I wanted it to go on and on, keeping us in this moment for as long as I could, but she felt too good. She was too good. My head, still fuzzy from sleep, couldn’t keep up with my dick.

  I rubbed my hand across her face again, struggling to get the words out. “Oh God. I…I’m ready to go.”

  Her rhythm never faltered but instead went hard-core, sucking, pumping faster…harder until I came in her mouth. My closed eyes opened in time to see her swallow what she’d done to me, satisfied and chill.

  “Best wake-up call I’ve ever got,” I said.

  She sat back on her knees, wiping her mouth like a fucking champ. “Consider it a parting gift.”

  I looked at the time on my phone next to the bed. It was a little after eight, and I knew she’d have to go soon. “Come here, beautiful.”

  She crawled up my side while I sat up, lifting her into my lap. I buried my head in her shoulder, her skin smelling like sex and her. All it took was one night, and I knew I was hooked. I had a strong suspicion before last night, but I was sure now. I was totally falling for this girl.

  I pulled back to look at her. “There’s only one more thing we need to do,” I said.

  “Already?” she asked, biting down on her lower lip. It was so damn cute because she was seriously considering if I was ready again. I was good, but not that good.

  “I’m not superhuman. What I meant was we need to do one thing to lock this thing down.”

  “What thing?” she asked, making quote marks when she said thing.

  “Us.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you going to just repeat everything I say but in question form?”

  She wiggled in my lap, her palms deep into the mattress so she could try and move back. I didn’t know her well. At all. I didn’t even know her middle name, but I already knew that when she was uncomfortable, when she needed to process, she needed space, physical space.

  “What I meant by ‘thing’ is you and me,” I said. “Last night, we both said we weren’t going to sleep with other people. That means, this thing is you and me. Just us.”

  Her silent squirming continued, and I had to consider if it was what she wanted, too. It wasn’t a label thing I was after. We could call it whatever—hell, I was calling it a “thing.” The only thing I wanted was to be with her, preferably alone.

  “Look—” I said, but she cut me off with her hand on my mouth.

  “I’m sorry. This is all…unexpected. You are so unexpected,” she said. “You, the panty-dropping woman getter. You are telling me you want us to be a thing.”

  “Okay. Let’s get this straight, beautiful. Yes, I’ve been around the block. So the hell what? But I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have taken you here if I didn’t want you here. I wouldn’t have said what I did. I do what I want, and whether you think that’s bullshit or not is your problem. I like you. I have a stupid amount of fun when we’re together. And what we did last night? I want that, I want you, to be mine and mine alone.”

  Her shoulders squared off tightly. “I just,” she said. “Think this is a big step.”

  “You just had my dick in your mouth. We fucked four times last night, and you think this is a big step?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be all guy and be afraid of commitment?”

  “I’m not afraid of shit, beautiful,” I said, lifting my hand to her face to brush the hair that had fallen into her face away. “Just because I haven’t wanted to isn’t the same as being afraid.”

  “No offense, but look at you. You’re walking, talking sex and don’t even
tell me you don’t do it often because anyone who can do those moves has been around the block many, many times.” She scooted back closer to me, wrapping her hands around my neck. “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve been anti-thing for a long time. I’m not even sure I’d be good at it. You and I haven’t been living very different lives. You see a woman you want and you get her. Home, bed, and good-bye. I see a man, and my actions are similar.”

  “That’s what I mean about this feeling different. I don’t want it to be that way with you.”

  Her fingers brushed against my neck and then up through my beard. “Neither do I. I’ve been anti-thing for a long time and have been able to keep a casual sexual thing separate from emotions. Hell, I’ve had a regular booty call on retainer for a long time. No drama. No relationship bullshit. But when I found out about hotel room card chick, I reacted. It was strange and scary because it was so foreign for me.”

  She was a little more cautious about laying it out than I was. That was okay with me, so in an attempt to lighten things up, I knew I needed to show how little all that shit mattered to me.

  “So, what you’re saying is while I’m the panty dropper, you’re the boxer dropper?” I asked.

  She laughed and nodded. “Yes. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed. If we are going to have a thing, you need to know who I am. Or was. Or…whatever.”

  “You think that makes a difference to me?” I questioned.

  She shrugged. “It would to a lot of guys.”

  Women were judged for this kind of bullshit all the time. It was okay for a man to have no-strings attached, but when a woman did it, people got judgy. It drove me insane.

  “I can’t say this in any kind of delicate way,” I said. “But I couldn’t give a fuck.”

  “Good. I don’t give a fuck who you fucked before me.”

  She leaned back down, her chest and mine connecting as a soft sigh left her lips. I kissed her shoulder while I crossed my arms around her back.

  “The only thing I do wonder is how you learned to do that thing when you’re on top of me and roll your hips while tightening—”

  She giggled and flipped her head to the side. “It’s a gift.”