“What did you think we were going to do here, have a friggin’ knitting circle and talk Bible passages?”
She hops off the counter and skips over to the coffee table as if she’s sixteen. Her legs are gorgeous and well muscled, with perfectly shaped calves and thighs that seem never ending. She bends over the table, giving me a full shot of her ass. And yes, I take it all in. It’s as if she’s head-butting my groin. Her panties are lacy, red, and sexy as all-fucking-get-out. They’re a tiny bit see-through, as I can see her ass crack showing…barely. They’re the sort of panties that only her fiancé should be seeing—but the hell if I’m not gonna look.
“Oh, oh…perfect. Dirty Dares, that’s what we’re playing! Rox got this online when we thought you and Striker were coming. Oh my God, some of these are really bad. Yes, yes, yes! Are you going to be able to strap on a set and really play this with me? You cannot bag out and be a pussy when the hard dares come along. This is a drink or dare game, so get the tequila.”
“Drink or dare, I don’t need a set of balls for this. What kind of dares? Run around in the snow, then flash me your ass kind of bullshit?”
“Oh, you are so bad boy, aren’t you? So tough, Mr. Quarterback. Please. These are naughty, Scout.”
“Might I remind you, I have never had to drink in all of our history together while playing drink or dare—unlike someone else I know. I think you’re the one that needs to strap on a set, sister; you’re already asking me to get the tequila set up. I dare you to make it through the whole game without having to do a shot.”
“Oh, fuck off. I can do that. I’m no pussy. But if I have to promise to take every dare, so do you.”
“Easy. Done. I’m guessing you want a few shots now? A little liquid courage, princess?”
“Three,” she says as she saunters back to the kitchen, hugging the game against her chest. Behind her are the French doors that lead out to the hot tub. The snow is coming down more heavily than ever, lights in the kitchen dimmed, candles set around by the dozens, fire crackling away, Christmas music blaring. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but it’s who she is. I don’t think I could have designed a more perfect weekend. Well, that’s not true—if Creed weren’t in the picture and she was on her back underneath me, buck naked, that would be the perfect weekend. But this one… It’ll do.
“Coming right up. You want the penis topper or not?” I can’t help but dropkick her a soft (or shall I say hard) one.
“Not. I’ve had enough cock today.”
“Is that so? No more idle threats, then?” I shoot her a solid double-eyebrow raise and give my lips a rimmer with my tongue to tease her. Okay, I eye-fuck her a little, too. And of course she lingers in it with me. Neither of us can help ourselves.
“Enough plastic cock.” Don’t underestimate her. She means it.
“Thought so.”
She hops back up on the counter and I nestle a barstool up next to her. We clink glasses, do one shot, then grab the second.
“Cheers, baby. May all your dares come true.” We clink glasses again, throw the shots down, and begin the game. Tess dumps all the dares into the box top, making sure they’re all upside down so we can’t cheat…as if we’re seven or something, right?
“Ladies first.” I shake the box over her head, and she pulls out a card.
“Oh, this is so easy,” she says, giggling. “By the way, you don’t get to throw your card in for an exchange; you have to do the card you pick. And the other person has to comply no matter what. Got it?”
“Are those the real rules or are you already redesigning the game, Sass?”
“Those are the real rules. Okay, so my card reads, ‘Give oral to the fingers of the person to your right.’ Oh yay! May I have the honor, Scout?”
“Are you sure you and Rox didn’t write these cards up yourselves? This is custom made for you.”
She takes my right hand in hers. I’ll admit, I’m kind of turned on by this one. Not that Tess hasn’t licked my fingers before, but giving them oral…this she’s never done. You know it’ll be hot.
“Enjoy the show,” she says in an overtly flirty tone as she flashes me a crushing smile, then bats one of those wide-eyed looks at me, all full of lust and promise. Little Miss Innocent, this one.
Her tongue circles around the tip of my forefinger slowly, eyes on mine all the while. She’s an irresistible tease. Could bring any man to his knees. She traces her tongue down to the valley between my fingers and plays a little down there, sort of akin to licking my nuts. Then, squeezing those two wet fingers together a bit, she drags her tongue up and down between the slit, sort of like I want to do to her cunt right this very minute. Then she plunges them both into her mouth and sucks hard, all the while moving her tongue in and out and over them, spreading them and then squeezing them closed.
I’m rock hard. This is quite possibly one of the most erotic, sensual things I’ve ever had done to me, and let me tell you, I do and have done everything. She’s moaning, thrusting her chest at me, squirming her ass around—all of it. My fingers are sliding in and out of her mouth slowly, and holy mother of God, she controls every move, pumping small fucks into her mouth with them, all the while peppering in even deeper moans as if she’s about to come. Her lips are soaked with saliva and her tongue is magnificently undulating in and out and around…sweet Jesus, if she keeps it up, I may literally come. Then she pulls my fingers out and drags them down the front of her sweatshirt, brushing straight over her right breast.
“Did that make you hard?” she asks triumphantly as she draws her knees up to her chest.
Her voice is silky, soft, and indulgent. Can you stand her? She rocks my entire being; she’s the female version of meth.
“Tess, Tess, Tess. You are a very naughty girl. A very sexy naughty girl. It’s my turn—hold up the box.”
She throws her head back and bursts out laughing. I’m dying to kiss her. Dying. But I resist because if we start that now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop anything. Rules or no rules.
“Pick a yummy one,” she sings in a teasing tone. I grab a card and read it silently. Then I read it aloud while chuckling. This one a complete no-brainer: she’ll be soaked and slipping off the counter in no time.
“My card, Miss Harlow, reads, ‘Talk dirty to the person to your right. When you’ve completed your mission, have them show proof—wet or hard—depending on your victim’s sex.’ You think you’ll be able to show me a hard-on, Tess?”
“Oh, this is a good one for you! Get talking! I want hear how naughty you can be. I want wrong, bad, naughty…got it? Give it to me hard…fuck me with your words. Ragdoll me.”
She’s clapping. Laughing. Smiling. Her eyes are glittery, and a rush of pink shoots into her face when she says “Fuck me with your words.” And you know what? I’m going to. I’m going to fuck her so hard with my words that she won’t be able to walk because her sex is going throb as if I licked it for an hour. She thinks she’s gonna get a little tiny feather tease, I’ll bet, but no. I’ve got her blueprint—I’ve had it for fifteen years, remember? And since I can’t slay her with my actual cock, I’ll do it verbally, like a jackhammer. Fifty shades of who?
“Come here.” I keep my voice deep and quiet, already taking pleasure in the fireworks I see popping inside of her. I pull her to the very edge of the counter, spread her legs apart and nestle myself right between them. Her panties are against my zipper. And about those those panties…yeah, well, I’m about to verbally fuck them right off her sweet ass. I cage her with my arms, one on each side, pinning her hands under my own as my face is inches from hers. The magnetism between us is undeniably white-hot volcanic. My heart is beating like I’m really about to fuck her, a titanic fuck that’s going sink her…and that’s because I am.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TESS
“I’m gonna verbally wreck you…eat you out with my words and then, baby, you’re show me how wet I’ve made you, and just how much you liked it.”
/> His eyes are smoldering, electric-blue pools as he says those words inches from my face, his devil-may-care look staring me down, fucking me, that irresistibly devastating smile of his making my pulse race. I’m defenseless—he drugs me with his charms. He could stop right now, because yes, I’m already wet. Damn the chemistry between us…fuck if I’m not feeling all thermal power station. But for the life of me, I am not going to miss this. This. Verbal. Deep. Penetration.
Oh, I know. You don’t need to tell me he’s going to bring me to my knees orally—with no oral. You think I’m kidding? It’s gonna be two hits. Him hittin’ me…me hittin’ the floor. Stud. (He could trademark it.) Yep. All this is about to go down. He has full security clearance on my most intimate thoughts and I’m pretty sure my vagina’s going need a time out or some sort of detention later because of the way it’s already acting up. He’s going to tell me all the things he wants to do to me, the very naughty, yummy things I want him to do, things he won’t do unless I bare myself and break off my engagement to Creed.
The thing is…as you know, Creed’s safe for me. Safe is good. Safe = secret kept undercover. Undercover = normal. Creed doesn’t need more of me than I’m willing to give. Creed doesn’t care that he’ll never see me naked in any form during daylight, that his entire body will never lie flesh-on-naked-flesh against mine. He’s fine screwing in the dark, not seeing my eyes—or anything else, for that matter. He’ll never know about my melted, torched skin because his hands will never make their way onto my back or chest, which feel like a road map knit with fishing line. If you must know, our sex is good-ish. I usually come…and sometimes we do it again unless he’s got whiskey dick or he’s too high. It’s not passionate sex, though, in the way I wish it were. But it’s fine. I’m okay with fine.
Well, I was okay with fine, until kissing Scout became sort of a regular thing. It’s only been a few times but my God, those few times…when the earth became small as I went into orbit from that kiss, when all my air seemed to come only from those delicious lips…those lips I want to linger on for hours…. That’s when things changed and my lust for Scout went from large to super-sized. I’ve replayed those kisses over and over in my head.
I’ll slow here so you can understand where I am on this situation. I need him just this weekend, just while we’re stranded here, just so I can get him out of my system and move the fuck on. Vous ne parlez pas français? I want him to fuck me hard. A weekend pass only. I need to know what it’s like to feel him on me, in me…owning and worshiping me. Then I can say I did it—we did it. I need him branded on me. The very picture of him thrusting into me as I grip his well-muscled ass in my hands, the feel of him fucking me, burned in my mind.
Listen up: you can go fuck yourself, karma, because I need a sexy place in my brain with this image of us, that I can hit replay on—like an erotic jukebox—anytime I need him. I need him that way because I can’t give him all of me; never will I be able to, if we have it my way. Then, I can go get married, get pregnant, have a mess of kids and a happy life, and Scout and I can just go back to being very best friends.
Unless we can’t.
“Tess.” His lips are at my ear, his breath on my neck. I’m already fucked, you know.
“You’re lying back on the counter. I’m stroking your clit right through your panties, feeling it grow, listening to you say my name as soft little moans come from your throat. You’re so wet for me, baby…soaked right through that little bit of lace that covers your sweet…tight…juicy cunt.”
Don’t say I didn’t tell you so. This is going be Oscar-worthy, folks. Who can say those kinds of raw words and make it sound so damn sexy? Yeah, he can.
“Your cunt—which I’m going bury my face in—your cunt that I can smell from here because it’s so delicious and fragrant, is aching and ready for me. Your heart is pounding and you’re more aroused than ever because it’ll be the very first time I will have tasted your sweet cream on my lips, on my tongue…. All I’ve ever wanted is to bury my tongue up inside of your pussy, Tess.”
I think I’m gonna need a bigger boat because I’m already drowning in my own juices.
“I slide my hand under your ass as you lift your hips the tiniest bit, then I hook my finger in the top edge of your little sexy panties and I oh. So. Slowly. Drag them down.”
He says this as his hand goes to my lower back, his fingers skating along the edge of my panties that ride the top of my ass. I’m dying here. Dying.
“Tess, my beautiful baby. My finger, as I’m pulling your red panties over your soft, downy skin, is buried in the seam of your ass, teasing the warm, hot line between your peach-like cheeks that I want to bite into. And baby girl, when I reach the tight little pucker of your ass—which I’m going to fuck someday—I finger it because it’s dripping wet with the sweet juices from your gorgeous cunt.”
I swear to you he’s all this. His hot palm goes from my lower back to my knees and my fingers have gone from the top of my thighs straight between my legs. My thumb feathering my clit with every word that falls from his lips.
“Scout, I…” I wish his name didn’t just come out of my mouth,. I wish I weren’t that transparent…but right about now I’m as see-through as a sheet of plastic wrap covering a bowl of nirvana.
“Shhhh, Tess…be a good girl and listen up because I’m circling it slowly… Oh, and yes, I know it’s making you crazy, making you almost come, but I can’t let you come yet, Tess, because I still haven’t tasted you.”
His tongue is tracing along the edge of my ear, and that, combined with the dark velvet edge in his voice, is making every nerve ending on my body channel their inner jazz hands.
“But I stay there…on your sweet, tight pucker…just a tiny, tiny bit longer, and I press my finger slowly into you, baby, and you come apart. Arching your back, bucking your ass onto my finger, grinding it deeply inside of you until I pull it out because I need to get to your wet cunt. Now don’t I, Tess? Isn’t that where you want me, baby?”
My body is involuntarily moving. As in, back arching, hips grinding as if his finger really is in my ass, making me want to come right this very second. I’ve created this problem, I’m well aware.
“Tess…I want to hear the words. Tell me you want me to get to your cunt, baby. Say the words.”
His voice is deep and sensual, certain and silvery. He owns me with that voice…he owns me with every fiber of his being. My eyes slide shut as he takes bold possession of my libido, his words raining down on me like a provocative sea of pleasure.
“Please.” My swallows are hard over my desert-like throat, and I manage just that one word in a broken whisper.
“Eyes open, baby. I need you looking at me when you say it…and no, that’s not good enough, Tessie girl. Give me the words or we’re done here, baby. Come on…do it for me.”
Tell me I don’t need to translate the vibe that’s going on between us…tell me you feel it. Christ-all-fucking-mighty, have you ever come from someone’s words alone? Yeah, me neither. Well, start reading Cosmo, my friends, because while it’s rare, it can happen…as in now.
I can barely string words into sentences but somehow I say it. “I want you in my cunt, Scout…please don’t stop.” I want to Jackie Chan him with my own personal fist of fury because that would be me sitting on the countertop squirming like a sixteen-year-old girl begging her best friend of the last fifteen years to verbally fuck her cunt. My straightjacket, you wonder? Oh hell yeah…it’s over in the corner right next to my vibrator—which I’m going to be riding like a Lipizzan stallion. All. Night. Long.
“Tess, Tess, Tess. Such a good girl…such a naughty, sexy, good girl. So, where were we? Ah, the panties, yes. The panties are still in my fingers and I pull them down slowly, and one finger is at your opening, against your wet, creamy slit. I plunge it inside of you and you gasp, calling my name, begging me to lick you. But not yet, Tess, no, no… You have to be patient for my tongue, because my tongue, sweetheart—it’s going t
o wreck you beautifully. So I fuck your delicious cunt slowly with that finger, teasing you…relishing the feel of your wet tightness. And though I want to get there as much as you do, I pump a few more slow fucks inside of you, lusting for your greedy, wanting need. Then I pull my fingers out and my God, Tess…there’s so much cream. I need to taste them, I need to lick your cream off…but I don’t because the first time I taste you in just a few minutes, sweetheart, it’s going to be with my tongue.”
My body is aching for his touch. Jesus suffering fuck. He’s unraveling me with each erotic musing, and I swear to you, I’m jealous of his mouth as it gets to hold his tongue and feel it against himself. All I want right now is his tongue doing all sorts of decadent things to my most intimate parts. He’s looking straight into my eyes as he says every word, and my clit gives him a standing ovation—I swear to you it’s that swollen…yes, that hard. It thinks it’s a tiny penis dancing on Broadway the way it’s jumping up and down inside of my panties. He’s merciless and I want to tell him fuck off, knowing damn well how much he’s loving the way I’m squirming. That tiny smile resting on the corner of his mouth saying all I need to know.
“So I take one finger and find your clit, which is easy to do because it’s pulsing like you’ve been on your vibrator all night long. And I’ll admit, Tess, my cock is so fucking hard right now for you that it feels like it was just forged from steel.”
He takes my hand from my inner thigh and rubs it along the front of his jeans to feel his hard girth, then puts it back between my legs. Dying here.
“Scout…Jesus…why don’t you just…” I’m so beside myself with his words that now I’m begging him to do what he says.
“Shh, shh, now. Oh, Tessie girl, your clit loves my finger and Christ, woman, does my finger love touching your swollen nub, because you’re moving your hips like we’re fucking, and your ass is bumping off this very counter up into my finger. And, again you’re begging me over and over, Tess, to lick your sweet, wet cunt.”
A Mess of Reason Page 11