by Nikky Kaye
She stiffened as my index finger slid through her folds to where we were joined. Making a circle with my finger and thumb, I could make a ring around the base of my cock as I flexed into her. As mind-blowing as that was, feeling her flesh stretched around me was even more incredible. When my fingers sought out her clit… she arched her back, letting out a loud cry.
“Oh god! Will!”
Her climax sliced through the night air so sharply that I thought for a moment it would create ripples in the water. She bucked and shuddered, falling apart in my arms, her thighs tense and akimbo over me. Her body was totally open as she quivered around me. When she moved her hands to feel us together at her center, I lost it.
I growled as my balls tightened. I had to hold on to her as I rose an inch or two off the edge of the hot tub, my feet searching for sure footing as I spilled into the condom.
She slouched back against my chest as my softening cock slipped out of her, murmuring something blasphemous under her breath.
Finally I let myself speak, satisfied with both our orgasms and her failure to keep her mouth shut. Hoping my voice didn’t shake with the cold I was starting to feel, I whispered into her hair.
“I win.”
Chapter Eight
Cassie
I was still thinking about the hot tub later that week. It was like I couldn’t control the smile muscles in my face since our night away at the cabin. After we went inside, we wrapped ourselves up in blankets in front of the fireplace. Okay, one blanket. We had to conserve body heat, since there was only so much firewood provided. That’s my story and I was sticking to it.
But we just snuggled and talked until we fell asleep on the floor in front of the dying fire. In the morning, we were stiff—Will more so than I was—but we soon limbered up with some whole body naked exercise.
We drove back after he washed the brunch dishes in almost silence. It made me think of the hot tub the night before, which made me blush hotly. Having sex without speaking felt, well, even sexier. It was like a crazy fantasy of hooking up with a stranger, or going to a sex club where talking wasn’t allowed. Or so I’d heard.
Without Will’s voice reverberating through me, I could only focus on the sensations thrilling my body—his thickness filling me, his wet handprints on my chilled body, the smell of the hot tub chemicals lingering on his skin. Even the way the scruff on his jaw tickled my temple as I lay against him sent a frisson down my spine.
“You cold?” He frowned as he glanced over at me, his hand automatically going to the climate control in the car.
I shook my head, but didn’t stop him from cranking the heat. No, I wasn’t cold, not anymore. After the past month or so, I could safely say that I wasn’t frigid either, at least not with Will.
But that made me wonder—was it just Will? Was I really becoming more comfortable with my sexuality, or did he just have a magical dick? He definitely knew what buttons to press. Maybe it was time to learn more about my own body. I got my chance later in the week when Will asked me to help him study for his Anatomy exam.
* * *
“Seriously?” I tried to snort with suspicion, but it was really hard when I was trying not to titter. “I don’t know if feeling me up is considered studying, Will.”
His face was totally straight. “But how else will I know the difference between perineal and peroneal?”
He had me there. Now I really wanted to Google that. I sighed. Give me strength—like Kegel strength.
“Please?” He pressed his palms together in prayer and gave me the lost puppy dog eyes. Shit. I was helpless against that. Thankfully, I was caught up on my reading and feeling pretty confident about my exams. Well, except for my lab final, but I had a tutoring session scheduled with Dylan for Sunday.
“Shouldn’t you have started studying earlier?”
“I want to cram with you.”
Now I did let out a snort. The man was shameless. “No cramming tonight, I have a headache.”
“You know, orgasms usually help headaches. Vasoconstriction—”
I held up my hand. “Stop. Fine. I’ll ‘study’ with you,” I said, using air quotes. “But only for a couple of hours, and I’m not sleeping over.”
More puppy dog eyes. “But I—I get laid on Fridays.”
“What?”
“It’s the mnemonic for the lumbar plexus. Iliohypogastric, Ilioinguinal, Genitofemoral, Lateral femoral cutaneous, Obtruator, and Femoral.” He walked his fingers over my lower back and down the front of my thigh.
And that is how I found myself naked, blindfolded, and tied to Will’s bed.
“What’s your safe word again?” he asked me.
Holy shit. Yeah, he got me. Not that I was an unwilling participant, but I was totally going to remember this when it came time for my Art History elective on Representation of the Human Body.
“Wait, did we agree on one?” My eyelashes felt weird brushing against the tie from his closet that we were using as a makeshift blindfold.
“It should be something you’ll never normally yell out in bed,” he reminded me. “Like ‘Dylan’,” he added with a dark twist in his voice.
“Ha ha. How about, uh, vasoconstruction?”
“You mean vasoconstriction?”
“Yeah, that.”
His chuckle by my ear startled me, since I’d thought he was closer to my feet. “If you’re so freaked out that you want to stop, then I’m not sure you’ll be able to manage to think of vasoconstriction, much less say it.”
I was pretty sure I was experiencing vasoconstruction already, but my lips moved over the word silently to practice. I almost had it, until he bit my toe like a vampire bat.
“Gah!”
My leg jerked reflexively, but my ankle was bound to the leg of Will’s bed. He’d gotten creative, using a long ass roll of plastic wrap to sheath my ankle and then stretched it over the corner of the bed. Then he wound it around the leg of the frame supporting his box spring. If Pre-Med didn’t work out for him, he could always go into Engineering.
The result was that I was spread-eagled with cling film, like a sandwich fetish gone horribly wrong.
“Cassandra.” His voice was stern and now coming from my left side, making me disoriented again.
“Will?”
“What do you know about your erogenous zones?”
“You mean other than the obvious ones?” I didn’t want to confess to him that my primary education came from an old episode of Friends.
The air shifted as he leaned over me. “Like here?” He softly pinched my left nipple, making me inhale sharply. My breath became shakier as he went to my other breast. His other hand migrated south with devastating accuracy. “Or here?”
I squirmed at the dual assault, my body tingling. The tie around my head stopped me from seeing my blush bloom. Imagining his gaze focused on me made me blush harder. “H-how is this studying?”
He stepped back, releasing his hold on my nerve endings. At first I stiffened at his withdrawal, then melted on the bed. “You’re right,” he said. “Let’s start with all my favorite muscles.”
The bed bounced a little as he knelt on it between my legs. His hands splayed out over my shins, squeezing gently. “There’s the extensor longus digitorum,” he began, wiggling his little finger above my ankles. “And then the gastrocnemius is here.” He pressed his thumbs into the inside of my calves.
He was damn lucky that I didn’t knee him in the face when he planted a wet kiss above my knee, then one on the other side like a European greeting.
“This is the vastus medialis and the vastus lateralis. Then up to the sartorius.” He narrated his journey up my thighs in a low voice. All the muscles he identified tensed. Who knew Latin could be so sexy?
“Will, I—” I gasped.
“But I think my favorite anterior leg muscle is the gracilis,” he told me as he pinched a place high on my inner thigh. He soothed the tender skin with the tip of his tongue, moving higher until I was r
eady to scream. “And the pectineus.” The pectin? What? His nose nudged against my mound, his breath hot against me.
“Will, take this thing off my eyes, please.” I wanted—needed—to see his dark head buried between my thighs.
He obliged, shoving the tie up over my forehead and onto the pillow. I blinked down at him, only now realizing that his bare shoulders were pressing into my inner thighs. At some point he’d undressed, too. Seeing him was almost worse than just feeling him.
“Fuck, Will, just stick your tongue in me already!”
Apparently it was getting easier for me to ask for what I wanted. But he ignored me, nuzzling me.
“The mons pubis and down to the prepuce…”
I gasped as he hovered so goddamn close to my clit, then he veered around it before outlining my entrance with both his fingertips and tongue.
“The labia majus and labia minus, colloquially known as the outer and inner lips of the vagina.”
I wanted him to kiss those lips. I wanted him to French out on those lips like a fifteen-year-old in a basement with his first girlfriend. I trembled as he spread me open with his thumbs like he was opening a ripe fig.
“Oh god.”
His lips curved against my nether lips. “You know, Cass, I don’t know how gynecologists do it without being hard all the time. The female body is such an amazing thing. And you, your pussy is fucking spectacular, so rosy and plump.” He dragged his tongue from bottom to top, landing on my—
“Ah!”
“The clitoris is much bigger than you think.” He circled it slowly with the pad of his thumb. “It grows when you’re aroused.”
“Oh fuck oh fuck,” I panted.
He slipped a finger into me and curled it up. “The g-spot here is really the underside of the clit. When you take it all together, it’s about the same size as a man’s dick and has the same kind of erectile tissue. Any asshole who doesn’t pay attention to it is, well, just an asshole. And an idiot.”
A blazing ache inside me threatened to consume me. When I tried to pull my arms down, they didn’t move far enough. My legs were alternately stiff and trembling, like trees quivering in a winter wind. I was desperately aroused, but nowhere close to coming. At least, I didn’t think I was.
I was, however, completely and utterly overwhelmed.
“Everything here swells when you’re aroused—your clit, your vulva, the corpus cavernosum, and vestibular bulbs.”
“Vaso—”
“Vestibular bulbs,” he repeated, stroking me again.
“Vasoconstrict…” I tried, squeezing my eyes shut against the intensity of his attention.
“Yeah, vasoconstriction usually happens earlier with arousal.”
“No, no, Will,” I croaked, my eyes snapping open to meet his gaze. “Vasoconstri—”
“Oh fuck.” He leapt off the bed as though it was on fire. “Shit, safe word! That’s the word.”
Dragging his hands through his hair, he spun around and swore at the wall. “Fuck!” Then he turned back to me, stretching out his hands like I was a scared cat. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t listening, I was—never mind. Are you okay?”
My whole body melted into the bed. I was still mindful of the way his gaze skimmed over me, like he was doing triage. I nodded weakly, beyond embarrassed.
His face relaxed a little, the tension around his mouth softening. He glanced down, his eyes widening as if he only just remembered he was still bare ass naked. His shaft bobbed and twitched, the tip glistening. I licked my lips, wishing for some water.
“My boyfriend’s name is Steve,” Will blurted out.
What the fuck? I couldn’t move. Humiliation flooded through me. I knew he couldn’t really like me. He only fucked me for a bet, after all. Oh god. I wanted to die.
“I, uh, okay,” I choked out, struggling against the plastic wrap restraints. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” I tried to joke. But my eyes were prickling and I stared at the ceiling.
“No! Fuck, no! Cass, that’s not what I meant!” He sprang back to the bed, his hands hot on my arms as he unwound my MacGyvered cuffs. “It’s—well, it’s the path of sperm. The jizz map. Seminiferous, Tubules, Epididymis, Vas deferens, Ejaculatory duct.”
Oh. That made perfect sense—not.
“Shit, I’m going to hurt you if I keep pulling on this,” he grumbled with frustration at unwrapping his leftovers—me.
Will disappeared down the hall before coming back with a pair of scissors. He cut me loose, and as soon as all my limbs were free, I curled up into a ball on my side. The fresh part of the pillow felt cool under my heated cheek.
“You dumb motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath. I turned my head back to frown at him. He wore a panicked expression. “Not you, Cass. Jesus, never you. Me. I’m a thoughtless asshole.”
“That’s not true. You were thinking lots.” And I was not thinking much, only feeling—feeling frustratingly passive, dazed, besieged by the still-novel sensations rumbling through my body.
Behind me, I heard him leave the room again. A lonely feeling lodged in my stomach. Was he leaving? I was so confused, by everything. My nose prickled as tears threatened, adding further shame to my mortification.
A bottle of water appeared before me. I blinked, tears spilling onto my cheeks. Oh. “Thanks.” I glanced up as I took the water to see that Will was no longer naked.
He wore black boxer briefs and a serious hound dog expression. With his arms crossed over his chest, he considered me. His hands squeezed his opposite biceps nervously, as though he was afraid to touch me.
Abruptly he moved to the end of the bed, and hauled up the comforter that had been thrown to the floor at the beginning of our “study session”. He pulled it over me, tucked it in around my chin, and pressed it close around me.
Exhaustion overcame me. Everything with Will was so fucking intense right now. It didn’t used to be. Sex complicated things—that was for certain. Going from friends to lovers was like riding a bicycle naked. Yeah, you still knew how to ride it and get from A to B, but your ass sure wasn’t comfortable and people were probably staring at you.
“I think I’m done with the tutorial,” I said quietly, closing my eyes.
“Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment, and I waited for him to curl up next to me. Instead, he smoothed his hand up and down my back like I was a child. “I’ll take the couch. Leave you alone.”
I curled up a bit tighter, feeling strangely sad and lonely. Maybe with Will it was more like riding a unicycle naked—trying to keep my balance was definitely the hardest part.
Chapter Nine
Will
I walked out of my Anatomy exam on Monday morning not as confident as I was after the midterm. But then, the same could be said for my life in general.
Things had become weird between Cassie and me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still disappointed me. Once again, I’d come on too strong, and now I hadn’t heard from her after she left my place on Saturday morning.
It took all my self-control not to crash her “cramming” session with Dylan on Sunday. Instead I did my own studying on the couch while watching football. When I fell into bed, my sheets still smelled like Cass. Dealing with morning wood was already a regular thing, but it seemed that dealing with evening wood guaranteed a good night’s sleep.
I tried texting Cass, but didn’t get a response. I had to assume she was just studying her perfect ass off. She’d mentioned at the cabin the weekend before that she’d been off her academic game lately, something about being distracted. Yeah, okay, I was probably her biggest distraction. If we were going to make this work, then we needed to figure out a way to study together—and not like we did Friday night.
The rest of the day dragged, even with periodic coffee stops. I spent some time studying for the rest of my finals, but I struggled to focus. It wasn’t just the caffeine that made me jittery, though. I kept checking the time on my phone as the time for Bio class near
ed.
Today was the final exam, and I knew Cass was nervous about it. Fuck, I should have been the one helping her study, not Dylan. It killed me that she preferred to learn from him instead of me, when I’d been her partner and friend from the first class. Maybe if I’d just stayed her partner and friend, I wouldn’t be sitting in the med school library right now acting like I was about to crawl out of my skin.
Now that I’d seen a different side to her, tasted her, the friend zone was just not enough. It would never be enough. And if I was being honest with myself, it never had been enough in the first place. But if I didn’t back the fuck up, I risked losing Cassie not only as a girlfriend, but also as a friend. And that was just not acceptable.
On the plus side, the final today was written, not practical. On the “fuck my life” side, Cass told me on Friday that she was staying after class today to catch up on a fetal pig dissection as her last class requirement. I’d already gone medieval on the little porker back in that period of purgatory between getting her off in the quad and our first night together. So I couldn’t even plan to see her after class, unless I stood outside in the hall and waited for her like a deranged stalker.
Huh. Well, it wasn’t the worst idea. I paused at the end of the hallway, watching other classmates file in. There was a little seating area in one corner of the main floor, courtesy of some alumnus donor. The smell of fixatives lingered in the hallway, which was why people usually didn’t hang around.
“Will?”
“Agh!” I spun around, knocking Cassie over with the backpack slung over my shoulder. “Shit, you okay?”
She backed away from me, her hands up. “I’m fine.” She jerked her head to our classroom. “We’re going to be late.”
As we both turned to look down the hall, the closing door made it clear—we already were late. I’d spent way too much time contemplating a short-lived career as a deranged stalker, and now I made us both tardy. I didn’t care about winning brownie points with Dylan, but I felt like an ass for holding Cass up as well.