by Meghan Quinn
“Of course I watch porn,” I admit. “But I watch it alone.”
“You never watched it with Rory or another girlfriend?”
“No.”
She purses her lips and bobs her head. “Hmm . . . interesting.”
“Why is that interesting?”
She continues to scroll through the movies, pausing to read the descriptions. “Because I’ve always watched porn with every guy I’ve dated. If anything, to pick apart the ridiculous storylines.”
She always watches porn with her boyfriends? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a girl watching porn with their significant other. Then again, it’s not a question I usually ask my friends.
“Oh, we are so watching this one.”
I glance at the TV to see her purchasing the movie without even giving it a second thought. “Ryan,” I scold.
She pats my leg. “You’ll love it. Massage appointment turns sensual. What’s not to enjoy about that?”
Exactly. I’m going to like it too damn much.
Annoyed, I slouch against the headboard and stare at the TV in front of me. Fuck. This is going to be extremely painful.
The screen fades to black before an instrumental song starts to play. A businessman walks into a massage parlor and talks about the tension in his shoulders. A busty blonde comes into the picture and tells him she would love to help him out with his problem and escorts him to a back room.
Jesus.
“Oh, this is a good one. You can tell there is going to be some amazing boob shots. I mean look at those knockers. They’re so big.”
I’ve seen better, and they’re sitting right next to me, perky and practically calling to me.
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
Sighing, I look at the screen and take in the girl who’s dripping massage oil over the guy’s back. “She’s all right. I’m more into natural beauty.”
“Yeah, she has porn star written all over her, doesn’t she? But I mean, look at those nipples.” Trying not to. “They’re so pointy. The guy is so not my cup of tea though, which kind of ruins it for me.”
“Why not?”
“Not into blonds. Well, not anymore.”
“Bad experience with a blond?”
“Yeah, they tend to be more douchey for some reason.” She shrugs it off just as the guy flips over, showing off his massive erection. “Uh, maybe that’s a blond I could make an exception for. Check him—oh, there goes her top and shorts.”
Shit.
They get right down to business. Slowly they start to kiss, feeling each other’s bodies up. It’s not frantic, nor is it cheesy. It’s what the movie’s described as—sensual, and that’s my undoing.
I go hard, my length quickly crowding the crotch of my jeans, pressing against the zipper, making things increasingly uncomfortable for me.
This was a really bad idea.
From the corner of my eye, I see Ryan pull her blonde hair to one side, tugging on the strands as she leans back against the headrest too, her legs still crossed.
She’s silent and for some reason, that makes this even worse, because instead of her colorful commentary, the room is filled with moaning and slapping of skin.
I try to look anywhere but the TV and find myself looking to my side. Ryan’s eyes are fixed on the TV, her mouth partially parted, and her fingers gradually floating down her neck, to her collarbone, and then to the swell of her breasts.
I tell myself to look away, to not pay attention to the abundance of cleavage she’s showing off, or how hard her nipples are . . .
But I can’t.
I can’t will myself to look in any other direction. Her chest rises and falls, her lips wet and glistening, her skin tan and smooth.
Through heady eyes, I look her up and down, licking my lips and telling myself this is bad, that I need to turn the other direction, leave the room, do anything other than stare her down.
The girl on screen moans loudly, drawing my attention away for a brief moment. The guy is lying across the massage table and she’s lying flat against him, moving her hips against his dick while she makes out with him. They kiss softly, their hands roaming.
Ryan’s knee presses against my quad, her legs spreading apart so her feet are touching rather than crossed. My hand is inches from her knee, and with one little movement I could stroke her skin with my pinky finger.
Impulsively, my hand moves closer to her, my face no doubt flamed from the movie, my dick practically throbbing in my jeans, aching to be stroked.
Still quiet, she wiggles in her seat, her knee brushing against my hand briefly.
So fucking close.
What would she do if I caressed her skin? Would she shy away or is she thinking the same as me—let’s fuck.
I can’t have a relationship with her, not when she lives in Colorado and I’m in Nevada. Then again, she hasn’t had the best luck with men, so I don’t want to lead her on, make her feel used. What a fucking tangled web. Having a one-night stand with my best friend’s wife’s best friend. Would she tell Stryder and Rory?
She and Rory are close. I’m sure Ryan knows a hell of a lot more about me than I know about her, so would Ryan confess to Rory if we fucked?
Honestly, would I care if she did? I don’t owe her anything. I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions.
“Oh, just like that,” the woman moans, as she lifts up off the guy’s chest and starts riding him, her body writhing, her tits bouncing in a wave motion with her hips.
It’s erotic.
It’s hot.
It’s making every sensory in my body heighten.
Ryan’s perfume is stronger, sexier.
Her breathing is more erratic.
My body tingles, my arousal at an all-time high.
I need release, and I need it bad.
I eye Ryan, barely moving my head, just taking her in. She’s turned on. She keeps shifting, her breathing is heavier, and she keeps caressing her skin. I want to do that.
Is she wet?
What will I do if she is?
Fuck, right now, I’ll do anything, including spreading her across this bed and licking every inch of her body.
My pinky moves, gliding over her knee very slowly. The air in the room turns heavy as I wait for her next move.
She doesn’t do anything, so I stroke her knee again, this time my finger moving slower, longer.
Her breath hitches in her chest, her eyelashes flutter, before her head turns toward me. I keep my eyes cast down for a second before I lean my head against the headboard and barely tilt it in her direction.
I lick my lips.
Another pass of my pinky.
A shift in my shoulders.
A tilt to my head.
Sultry eyes connect with mine when Ryan turns to face me, a questioning look in her expression. Not confused, but more like, is this happening?
Even though I know it shouldn’t, that I should get up and walk away, I can’t seem to move my body. Instead, I casually bite down on my lower lip, scan her body up and down, and give her a nod, one single nod that says get over here.
One single nod that changes the mood of the room.
Unfolding from her position, she moves stealthy along the bed, straddles my legs, and presses her hands into my shoulders as she hovers above me.
Hair framing her face, her tank top dipping low, and her eyes fixed on mine, she moves one of her hands to my chest where she plays with my collar.
“What do you want, Colby?” she asks on a whisper.
I lick my lips and look down her shirt, my hand going to her hair where I tug on the strands. “I want you.” The words rumble out of me before I can stop them.
She takes in a deep breath, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before she sits on my lap and reaches for the hem of her shirt. I stop her.
“Let me.” I scoot her closer so she can feel how turned on I am. My bulge pressing into her thinly covered center.
Her eyes s
hoot up to mine, her mouth parts open in surprise, while my hands slide under her tank top and roam up her sides, gliding along her beautiful curves until I reach her ribcage.
I pause and feel the way her lungs expand and constrict, falling in line with the beat of her heart. Mimicking my touch, she slides her hands under my shirt and dances her fingers over the ridges of my abdomen. Crevice after crevice she guides her hands up, dragging my shirt until her hands reach my pecs. Her thumbs seductively graze over my nipples causing me to let out a low groan from deep within.
“I want your shirt off,” she says, pulling on it. Releasing my hands from her ribcage, I grab the back of my shirt and pull it over my head, revealing my chiseled chest.
I toss my shirt to the side and let Ryan get her eyeful. Eyes wandering all over, from the V in my hips, to my six-pack, to my broad and built chest, she takes me in, lust building inside her.
“Your turn.” Before she can say anything, I take hold of the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head, revealing the sexiest pair of tits. God, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since this morning. Just bigger than a handful, with pierced nipples, she sits there and thrusts her chest out as she plays with her long blonde hair, twisting it to the side, a nervous habit of hers.
“Shit,” I mutter while dragging my hand over my mouth.
Smiling, she leans forward and presses her chest against mine, her nipples grazing my skin erotically, turning me on even more. I bring my hands to her legs, where I skim them up her thighs to her hips and start to rock her against me.
She groans and brings her forehead to mine. “What are we doing?” she asks, her nose touching mine.
“We’re going to fuck.”
“You want to?”
I grind her harder on my lap, my hands slipping past the waistband of her bed shorts. She’s not wearing any underwear, so I palm her ass and give it a squeeze. “You can’t expect me to leave you alone while you’re wearing this skimpy outfit, can you?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
I raise a brow at her and pull away a few inches. “You want to fuck me, Ryan?”
She nods. “Badly. Ever since this morning when you walked around the hotel room in your towel. I’ve been turned on and desperate all day.”
“Yeah?” I move my nose along her jawline and bring my lips to her ear. “How desperate?”
Breath erratic, she tips her head back, giving me access to her neck, where I take advantage of the angle, pressing my lips along the column, eliciting a low moan from her. That sound is gorgeous.
“So desperate”—she swallows hard—“that I turned on porn to get you in the mood.”
I work my mouth back toward her ear where I suck on the spot below her lobe, giving it a little nibble before pulling away. “You didn’t have to turn on porn. I was already in the mood the minute you walked out of the bathroom with your nipples on display in that threadbare tank top.”
“You looked?” She gasps when I bite on her neck again.
“I’ve been looking all goddamn day.”
Her hand falls to the back of my neck where she plays with the short strands of my hair.
“Why didn’t you do anything about it?”
I work my mouth to the other side of her neck, most likely leaving at least one hickey but not giving two shits about it. I’m marking her . . . at least for tonight.
“Because,” I answer honestly, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Sometimes”—she rotates her hips, building the friction between us—“you need to have release with another human, no strings attached.”
“Is that what this is? No-strings attached?”
She nods, pressing my mouth harder onto her neck. I suck, hard.
“Yes,” she gasps. “You live in Las Vegas; I live here. I’m not dense, I know what this is.”
I run my nose back to her jaw and pull away to look her in the eyes. “And you’re okay with it being one night?”
She presses her fingers into my scalp. “It’s all I want. One night. Tomorrow you go back to your planes, and I go back to my life.”
I search her eyes, looking for any sort of vulnerability, any chance that what she’s saying is a lie, but all I see is lust and passion. She wants this like I do.
“How long has it been for you?” I ask, needing to know what I’m working with.
“A week. What about you?”
I swallow hard. “A few months.”
“That’s hard to believe.” She runs a hand down my chest, to my belly button, and then to the button and fly of my jeans.
Smiling, she moves her other hand down south and opens my jeans, keeping her eyes fixed on mine.
“Haven’t had time to meet anyone.” The tendons in my neck tense and flex when her fingertips fall under the waistband of my boxer briefs; the head of my cock is so damn close to her touch.
“That’s a shame, because this body is going to waste.”
Not wanting to withstand the torture I’m sure she’s about to put me through, I swiftly push her back on the bed. Her hair fans out, framing her pretty face while her tits jut up at me, begging for my mouth.
I lean forward, her hands still at the waistband of my jeans when I bring my lips around one of her pierced nipples, sucking in the tiny barbell and working it back and forth with my tongue.
“Yes, that feels so good, just like that.”
I bite down on her nipple gently, loving how her chest rises when I do so, wanting more. I nibble, I suck, and I lick until she’s writhing beneath me. Releasing her from my mouth, I work my way over to the other one, where I give it the same tortuous treatment. She twists beneath me, her hands falling from my jeans to my shoulders, to my back, and to my jeans again, as if she can’t figure out where to rest them.
“I’m so wet.” She spreads her legs beneath me, so I take the opportunity to move my mouth down her abdomen to the spot just above the apex of her thighs. Sitting back for a second, I remove the tiny boy shorts and reveal a beautifully wet pussy. Fucking hell.
She wasn’t kidding.
Needing a taste, I lean forward and bring one of her legs over my shoulder. I kiss her pubic bone, work my mouth to her belly button and then back down again to the inside of her thigh. I lick her skin, teasing her center, getting close enough but never putting my tongue where she wants me.
“Colby, please.” Her hand presses against my head, urging me lower. I take her cue, not because I want to, but because if I don’t get her off soon and get inside her, I’m going to embarrassingly come in my pants.
I spread the leg that’s not draped over my shoulder even farther and hover my mouth just above her deliciously soaking pussy. “Do you want me to lick your pretty little cunt, Ryan?”
“Yes,” she moans and moves her hips toward my face. “I need release.”
Smiling, I lean forward the last few inches and make one long swipe with my tongue. She lets out an ineligible sound, her arm flying to her face where she covers her eyes and bites down on her bottom lip, her back arching higher and higher with each and every swipe I make.
She smells delicious and tastes like honey on a warm summer day, her arousal addicting on my tongue. I work her slit up and down, never letting up, pressing my tongue on her bundle of nerves over and over again, until she’s panting heavily and lifting her hips against my mouth begging for more.
I slow down, making my strokes long and torturous as I flatten my tongue.
“No,” she cries, her body breaking out in a sweat, her body contracting, needing more. “Fast, I need it fast. I’m so close.”
“How close?”
“So close.”
Wanting to see how far I can push her, I pull away and stare at her.
Her chest rises and falls, her eyes heady as she looks at me. Instead of protesting, she waits patiently, knowing exactly what I’m doing. She briefly closes her eyes and swallows hard before opening them again—the tension in her shoulders evident, the nee
d in her eyes palpable.
Keeping my gaze fixed on hers, I move my mouth back to her pussy. She licks her lips. I lick mine.
I lower and on her second breath in, I press my entire mouth against her arousal and rapidly flick my tongue against her clit. She comes in seconds, her hips uncontrollably flexing into my mouth. I press my hand on her stomach to keep her still while I drag out her orgasm.
She moans, calling out my name, hands sifting through my hair, pushing and pulling every which way until she’s on the verge of tears, begging me to stop, saying it’s too much.
But I don’t.
I continue to fuck her with my tongue, pulsing my fingers in and out of her until she starts to shake and shatter beneath me again, a second orgasm taking over her. She sits up on her elbows as the second one hits her, her stomach flexing as she stares at me in disbelief. Her head falls back and she moans.
“God, yes.”
She collapses on the bed as I pull away and twist her to her stomach. I quickly jump off the bed, shuck my pants and briefs and pull a condom from my wallet. I sheath myself in seconds and get back to the bed where I take hold of her hips.
My entire body humming, I place my cock at her entrance and smooth it up and down her wet pussy, letting it easily slide along her slit.
She’s using her forearms to keep herself still as the side of her face is pressed against the mattress, her expression telling me she’s still on a high from her two orgasms.
“Ryan, I need to fuck you. I’m so goddamn hard right now.”
“Then fuck me.”
“It’s going to be hard.”
“I want it hard.”
Shit, as if I didn’t think I could get anymore stiff, she says something like that.
Before I enter her, I smooth my hand along the slope of her back, to her shoulder blade, and then underneath to her breast. So goddamn full.
Lightly, I wrap my hand around her long blonde hair and tug her gently. “Lift up,” I command, guiding her so her back is pressed against my chest, her ass cradling my dick.
Still holding on to her hair, I bring my head forward so I can get a view of her breasts from this angle.
“I’m going to fuck your tits later.” I pull her head to the side and kiss along her neck while I stroke her nipples. I continue to whisper in her ear, “I’ve always considered myself an ass and legs man, but right now, I’m making a change.”