Girl-Nerds Like it Longer (Erotic Romance) Book 4

by Dunning, Rachel

  It was a heavenly pain.

  Because nothing could hurt me while all the blood in me hurled itself across every part of my tensed-up body. I moaned.

  I forgot about my hand on Clayton's cock but, while I was being bathed in bliss, it kept rubbing him automatically. Somewhere in the middle of that, I felt his juice hit my arm twice. I heard him make sounds that seemed like he was begging for mercy for his life while his head dug deep into my shoulder. He spasmed and shook while my other arm embraced him.

  I pushed his cock down and held it there, then squeezed it up, pressing all the juice out of him.

  He was sweating and his hair was all frazzled.

  My own body had settled by now.

  He stepped back a second, his hand still in my pussy and mine still around his shaft.

  I was relaxed. I'd gotten my fix.

  His face was red.

  He eased his hand out of me. His fingers glistened and dripped.

  I kept my eyes on his cock, wanting to experience every last bit of his pleasure with him. I squeezed it upwards, made sure all the cream came out. Then I stretched it down again and shook it quickly.

  He said, "Argh!" once more.

  And then it was all finally out of him.

  I smiled warmly when I looked at his face again.

  My Clayton, I thought.

  I massaged his softening hard-on. None of us said anything, just breathed relaxedly. He took his shirt off. He wiped his come off my arm with it. It was sticky, and he tried hard to get it off. I figured some of it would probably dry there so I'd just have to wash up after anyway.

  Then he tried to wipe some of it off my shirt but I said, "I think I'll need to borrow one of yours."

  He dropped his shirt on the ground and put his hands on the sides of my head. I continued to massage him below, up and down. He was ever softening.

  He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. Sweat was on the skin of his nose now, as it was on mine.

  "I love you, Layla," he whispered. "You can't leave me again. No matter how scared you are."

  I couldn't answer.

  Slowly, I let his penis go and pulled his boxers and pants up for him while we pecked and kissed like teenagers for a little while longer. He did up my own jeans.

  I was so relieved.

  I really had been tense before that.

  "Should we go get that something to eat now?"

  I smiled coyly. "If we must."

  -4-

  Clayton was officially my actively running program now.

  True, I wasn't the greatest judge of character—being with Nathan had taught me that—but I got the feeling with Clay that I could trust him.

  I was at ease. I wasn't worried about ever needing to give him the four-oh-three Access Denied code or having to run away from home and send him a four-oh-four Not Found code if he went looking for me. Or, worse, what I had to do with Nathan, send him a four-ten Gone code!

  Nathan had nearly brought about a five-hundred Internal Server Error in me. I needed to make sure this wasn't a rebound with Clayton. I couldn't do that to him. I couldn't risk three-oh-two Temporarily Redirected affections. And I certainly couldn't go through a three-oh-one Permanently Redirected.

  No, my love and affections were directed solely at him now. My heart was on my sleeve. Part of me, however, made me feel like his was also.

  We went to a Wetherspoons for breakfast. That's like this burger-steak bar-slash-restaurant gig they have going in England. The food's pretty cheap there. And the breakfasts are mediocre. But cheap is important when you're in college...in a different country...and on a scholarship!

  Yip, I'm not so rich. And neither was Clay.

  "So," he said, "that was, um"—he coughed—"pretty good...in the dorm room."

  I blushed, sucked my Pepsi through a straw.

  "Are you going to say anything?" he asked.

  "What—what do you want me to say?"

  "I don't know, um, whatever."

  I didn't say much. Instead, I slid off my left Skechers and trickled my toe on his ankle, under his pants.

  He tried to stay serious. But he failed.

  He cleared his throat. "You know, Layla, if we're going to make this work, we have to start talking a bit more."

  My foot paused. Then it continued again.

  "Layla, you listening?"

  I put my foot back in my shoe. "I am." I drained the Pepsi and ordered a second one when our breakfasts came. Then I said, "I'm just...no good with the whole communication thing."

  "You seem to be doing pretty good now."

  I shrugged. I felt my foot leave my Skechers again. Then I stopped myself.

  I fidgeted in my seat.

  "You uncomfortable?"

  "A little."

  "What did you talk about with...the other guy?"

  I felt embarrassed. "Not much."

  "You lived with him at one stage, didn't you?"

  "Yeah."

  "And all you guys did was...?"

  I kept my eyes down. "That's the way he operated."

  "Incredible."

  "Look, I don't really wanna talk about him, OK? He was...a mistake."

  "Was he?"

  I felt the sadness at my brow, a heavy weight being placed on my head.

  If I was honest with myself, Nathan hadn't been a complete mistake. He'd needed me and I'd needed him. Except for making that video, he hadn't betrayed me in any other way.

  You can't sleep with a guy so many times and not develop some sort of need or compassion for him.

  "He was a little...troubled," I said.

  "Aren't we all?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, aren't we all a little troubled? That's life, isn't it?"

  Clayton's blue eyes quivered as he'd said it. I wanted to pry, but I also didn't want to. I didn't want "heavy" right now. I wanted to forget, to live the life of someone at the start of her twenties.

  "Thank you," I said, "for...finding out about Nathan."

  "You already thanked me last I recall."

  "Well, thank you again."

  We took it slow after that. I stopped avoiding him in the classes we had together and started sitting next to him. He'd text me endlessly while we'd be getting boring lectures by professors and I'd pass him notes under the table.

  After my third note he sent me a text saying, You're so analog!

  We tried to avoid the physical but it just wasn't possible. And, although we hadn't had sex, it was rare that we'd make out without at least one of us sticking our hand into the pants of the other.

  I loved Clayton's fingers inside me. He was always gentle and smooth. He knew just the right place to press and how far to sink them into me. He'd massage my nub until I'd whimper and then twirl my wetness around me.

  And he teased a lot. A lot.

  The University of England is on a piece of land that rolls out for endless acres. There's a pond somewhere in the middle of that, lots of interspersed trees throughout. Of course, it's a well-known make-out ground as well—and very much frowned upon as such by the professors.

  The problem is not making out once you're deep into the trees. Because there are so many of them that no one would notice. The trick is getting into that neck of the woods in the first place. Because there are cameras watching the grounds and security guards that watch those cameras.

  Of course, that's when it pays to be a geek.

  I guess no one had ever hacked into the camera system before because the people who make out in the back grounds are usually not geeks. Geeks usually make out in a cupboard somewhere after a lot of beer and a game of Spin the Bottle.

  No, the cameras had been effective enough to keep your rugby players and cheerleaders out of the woods.

  But not us.

  Cameras are not my thing, so I called Mandi, my nerdy homosexual best friend who's geekier than Linus Torvalds. And smarter.

  She was more than keen to break in, not only to let me have my time wit
h Clayton in the "forbidden grounds" but because she'd met a girl that she was starting to get close with and also wanted to spend some time in the woods with her.

  Clayton and I went to the furthest reaches of the woods, so far that the main college was invisible from all the trees blocking its way. He had a picnic basket with him. He laid out a blanket and we sat on it. In the basket was honey and molasses and jam and whipped cream, some cakes, a few pears. And some crackers.

  "Interesting choice," I said.

  Clayton stayed quiet.

  He dug deeper into the picnic basket and then pulled out some white wine.

  "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

  "Do I need to?"

  I blushed. "No."

  "Actually..." His finger traced the molasses bottle top. He opened it. "I...was hoping we could...move onto..." He cleared his throat. His face went redder.

  "Clayton, are you wanting to have food sex with me?"

  He choked!

  His embarrassment made me instantly moist.

  "Layla, I don't want you to think it's weird and all. I mean, we've been together some weeks already and—"

  "I never said it's weird."

  "Yeah, but, I mean, I know with that other guy it was all kinky and stuff. I don't want this to be kinky. I want it to be...close."

  "So, what did you have in mind?"

  "Should I tell you or should I show you?"

  The last thing I wanted was a copy and paste of my last sexcapade with Nathan. What happened with Nathan had to stay in the recycle bin. But Clayton and I had gotten closer. Much closer. Heck, we were even having a freaking picnic together!

  "Why don't you start," I said, "and let's see where it goes..."

  "Wanna eat first?"

  I was clamped up. It's different when there's an emotional bond there for someone. You get hot for them so much faster. "No, I'm hungry for something else now."

  Clayton smiled his boyish smile.

  He started with a kiss because he always started me off with kisses. On the lips. Passionate kisses.

  The way Clayton kissed me I felt like I was all his, his oxygen, his power source. When he kissed me I felt like I needed to be plugged into an Uninterrupted Power Supply because it always seemed like my body was gonna short circuit and run out of energy.

  He eased his hand behind my head and ran his fingers into my hair.

  Aw, hell, I love this dude so much.

  When I was good and hot and my tits were hard and I just wanted him to damn well rip my entire outfit off, he eased back.

  He looked around nervously.

  "There's no one for miles," I said.

  "Did Mandi really hack into those cameras?"

  "She's a genius. No one saw us come here."

  "Maybe this was a little too outrageous—"

  "Clayton!" I snapped my hand to the back of his neck. "If I guessed right, you intended to drip sweet molasses over my hot spot and then lick my wetware. Now, are you gonna boot up or shut down?"

  "Oh, baby, I love it when you talk geek to me."

  He looked me in the eyes while undoing my belt. It couldn't come off fast enough. When he had it loose, he unzipped my jeans and tugged down on them. He pulled them to my knees and then did the same with my panties.

  The ground was hard under my ass.

  He grabbed the molasses jar.

  "Is that as far as you're taking them?" I asked about my trousers.

  "Yeah, just in case someone sees us."

  "Clay, if someone sees us, you'll have your tongue on my USB port whether my pants are fully on or not. I think it'll be more comfortable if you take them off."

  "I see your point."

  I laughed a little at how this was not really his territory.

  I also laughed a little because it made me so much "warmer" than when I'd been with that other guy. See? I was already forgetting him.

  Clayton took off my pants and panties. Fully.

  I leaned back on my arms and spread my legs. As far as Google Maps was concerned, we were covered by the thick canopy of leaves above us.

  Clayton unscrewed the jar top and it opened with a pop.

  The air was cooling down fast, especially as we were close to winter. If this had been one of the cooler spots of England I'd be developing hypothermia. A chill ran down my body but ironically it only made me even hotter for him.

  He grabbed a metal spoon and stuck it in the jar. He twirled it around. Then he moved the jar down lower toward my center.

  I watched the molasses eke down from the spoon, bulging at the bottom, just about ready to drop...

  Ready...ready...ready...

  It crawled off and slid down and then, when it hit me, it cut like a hot razor scraping beautifully at my nub. I actually started throbbing. I bit my lip and then hissed out a breath. My eyes clenched shut and I tilted my head back. I felt the viscous liquid pour gently over my clit and then down my nether lips.

  My legs started to tremble, both from the light chill of the wind and also from the excitement.

  But what threw me into oblivious ecstasy, was when Clayton surprised me, full mouthed, wet, and hungry, and sucked and kissed and licked and chomped down on every drop of molasses in every crevice everywhere in and around me.

  My legs instantly convulsed inwards and squashed his ears. I rubbed his hair while he licked me furiously.

  Then he slowed.

  My whole body was trembling. But I hadn't quite come yet, and I didn't want to either. This feeling was...amazing! This was better than a new Xbox, this was better than Angry Birds on an iPad. Heck, this was better than the damn iPad retina display!

  He stood up, the side of his mouth shining with moisture.

  "You're cold," he observed.

  "Do it again," I said.

  "But you're freezing."

  "And you just sucked my fucking pussy like it's never been sucked before! And I don't care if there was ice falling down on me now, I want you to do it again!"

  First he rubbed my thighs hard so that I warmed up. Which I did. Then he took off his pullover and wrapped it around my shoulders.

  "Use honey this time," I said.

  He smiled.

  He did it with honey, then with whipped cream, then with strawberry jam.

  Each time his mouth covered me I started convulsing, but not quite going over the edge. I was holding it back. Every time I came close I jerked backward so that he wouldn't throw me over the threshold.

  By now, however, I was so frigging hot that the weather didn't seem to be cold enough! I'd even thrown his sweater on the ground!

  I wanted to come now. I wanted to explode.

  And I also didn't want to.

  "Let me do you," I said.

  "Huh?"

  "You. I want to lick jam off your hardware."

  He smiled. "Layla, didn't I tell you geek-speak makes me horny for you?"

  I stood on my knees. He was sitting up now, cross-legged. My vag was right by his mouth. I bent down and whispered in his ear. "Yes, you mentioned it. And if you give me the two-hundred OK, I'd like to put your hardware in my oral socket."

  "You're such a geek, you know that?"

  "And that's why you love me."

  I sat down and he took his pants off. Personally, I was still tense as a steel pole and I needed desperately to release. But I wanted to be horny when I licked him. I wanted to be tensed up and needing it for as long as I could be.

  My drug. He was my drug.

  He lay down on the blanket. I grabbed some strawberry jam and a butter knife and spread it over his hard shaft. He really was very hard. If I thought I was horny, I couldn't imagine how horny he must be!

  When I took the first candied lick of his strawberry covered penis, I understood why he'd all but inhaled me earlier when the confectionery had been on my wetware. This stuff tasted good!

  I couldn't help it. The flavor was all in my mouth and I wanted to get it all off of him and onto my taste buds, even the drip
ping bits that were falling to his stomach.

  I stuck him in my mouth and licked and sucked and found all the drops of jam that I could and then swallowed them. Then I took him out and flat-tongued all the sweetness possible off of him.

  I wanted to lick his sac. And I wanted to taste sugar. So I grabbed the butter-knife and slapped a dollop of the stuff on his ball sac and then licked and put him all in my mouth and sucked and just devoured him.

  He was throbbing harder than a jackhammer.

  I was smiling. This had really been a good idea on his part.

  "Oh, Layla, don't make me come, please. This is so good."

  "I know," I said. But I knew we couldn't make this last forever. Either with the whipped cream or with the molasses or the jam or something...we were gonna come. "Wanna come together?" I asked.

  "Uh...sure...but..."

  I smiled a naught smile. I grabbed the whipped cream and shook it as if I were cocking a gun. I spread it all along the length of his cock. Then I took molasses and dripped little tiny bits of it over the cream. Then honey, only a little bit, and some on his ball sac. Finally, just a hint of jam on his balls.

  There. Ready.

  "Don't move," I said.

  I opened my legs wide so Clayton could see my vag and then I spread whipped cream all the way from the top to the bottom of it. "Want molasses?" I asked mischievously.

  He licked his lips, and nodded.

  I dripped tiny amounts of it on me. I had to be careful, because even the tiniest pressure from the whipped cream was already starting to bring me right up to that edge of ecstasy.

  "Honey?"

  He nodded again, licked his lips again.

  "And jam, I guess."

  "Yes," he whispered.

  I spread jam around the outside of my labia. "OK like that?"

  "Yeah." He was out of breath.

  "Don't start until I'm ready. OK, babe?" I instructed.

  I straddled his face so that he could see my tasty cunt right above him. Then I bent down and looked at the dessert facing me below. The best damned cock-split I had ever seen.

  I bent down and put him in my mouth.

  It was heaven. I sucked him clean. He sucked me clean. He licked me like only a dessert could be licked and I did the same, lapping and caressing and swallowing and hunting for every last little bit of sugary delight I could taste on him.