Lust Abroad

by Whitley Cox

  My eyes went wide, oh mama.

  Elissa grabbed a shot. “Okay, I’ll start…I would much rather…have sex with a guy after he’s just been for a run, then a guy who hasn’t showered in a week.”

  I nodded, we all nodded, nobody drank.

  It was Matt’s turn. “Okay, I would rather…”

  We went this way for some time, back and forth, drinking and laughing. All of us coming up with ridiculous scenarios to try and get the others to drink. And it seemed the more we drank, the racier and more outlandish the scenarios became. At one point, I found myself nodding that I’d rather have a threesome in a room full of my family, then go down on an octogenarian priest (that had been Matt’s contribution to the game).

  The tray had originally been loaded with sixteen shots of a potent liquid I couldn’t actually put my finger on, and when I looked back over at it a few minutes later, only three full ounces remained. Where had they all gone? How many had I had?

  “Okay, Piper, you’re up.” Elissa giggled, her body swaying to the beat of the music as she closed her eyes and sucked her drink through her straw.

  I bit my lip. All right, I guessed it was deal-breaker time. “I…I would rather be with someone who has a criminal record, and potentially done time, than someone who has ever had to pay for sex.”

  There! I said it. It was out. I averted Derrick’s eyes and looked down into my half-full glass, swirling the straw around like I was cooking some temperamental mole that needed to be watched in case it boiled over. But this was a big deal for me. The boyfriend I’d had right before I got married had been cheating on me with prostitutes.

  It wasn’t until he gave me chlamydia that I found out his little Thursday night “hobby” was that he went out, got a hotel room and handed over cash for a good time. He’d called them “call-girls,” women who were willing to do things that he was too afraid to ask me to do (even though, had he asked me, I probably wouldn’t have said “no”; I’m not afraid of rough play or a little kink). He’d said he always went through an agency, and the women were all supposed to be clean. But none of that made a difference. The fact of the matter was, he’d been cheating on me, and he’d been paying to do it. It didn’t matter that we’d only been seeing each other for around six months by the time I found out (even though he’d been doing it for the entire six months). I found the whole idea of paying for sex, even before Nolan had gone and done it, absolutely disgusting.

  So even though I hardly knew Derrick, I think we were going on thirty-six hours or so, had sex with him only a handful of times, the drunk in me felt it was the right time to lay some cards on the table. If the man has ever paid for sex, I was hitting the bricks.

  I saw some bobble heads in my peripheral vision. “Me too!” Elissa cheered. “Paying for sex is gross. That’s what blow-up dolls are for!”

  I heard Derrick snort, but I’m pretty sure he was nodding.

  “Me too,” he finally said. “I’ve never had to pay for it…does that sound like bragging? That I’ve always managed to get laid without it being a transaction of sorts? I mean I made out with my R.A. in college a few times, I think I might have gone down on her, but that was so that she wouldn’t break up our dorm parties. Was I whoring myself out?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and then I finally met his eyes. They were soft but inquisitive, and he gave me a sexily quirked eyebrow. But I just shook my head in dismissal. I’d tell him where that drunken bit of nonsense came from later.

  “I’m bored with this game,” Elissa slurred. “Piper, what do you do for work?”

  “I am…or I guess I should say I was a lawyer.”

  Derrick’s eyes flashed wide, and he turned to face me.

  “Was?” Elissa asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Went to law school, wrote the bar exam, the whole shebang, but I only lasted a year in the industry.” Eyebrows around our little group all rose up in surprise. My parents’ brows had done the same thing when I’d finally told them I was quitting law. Seven years of schooling down the drain. But that didn’t matter to me.

  Ray had told me from the very beginning he thought I would do better in a more nurturing job, like a teacher or something else with children, a speech path or child therapist. But I’d always thought law or medicine. Given my grades in school, those had been where the teachers had pushed me. But medicine was off the table; I hated the sight of blood. So, law it was. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “It just wasn’t for me,” I continued, shaking my head. “Too high-stress. I wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating, was having panic attacks and nervous breakdowns. I need a low-stress job…I need a low-stress life. I’m not even thirty, and I often feel like I should be getting ready to retire and move to Florida, my body and brain are so tired.”

  Everyone nodded, seeming to accept my answer. And then the focus quickly switched to Elissa’s schooling and that she still had one more year to go in her bachelor of history degree and was just totally done with academia. She’d also been considering law but wasn’t sure she could endure another three years of school to get there.

  Somehow, though I’m not entirely sure how, our conversations of school and work eventually morphed into discussions of sex. Because when you’re drunk, sex is almost always at the forefront of your mind, and it’s also a hilarious topic of conversation, especially when you’re drunk. People who are otherwise rather prudish in their normal day-to-day life can come out with some crazy one-liners that could make a sailor blush (this was my mother after her fourth Chardonnay). Thankfully, though, I managed to keep a tight lip about our little morning dorm room escapade. It would do no good to let our generous roomies know we kind of, sort of had sex right in front of them.

  It seemed the longer we talked about sex, the hotter I got, the more I wanted to go and have sex. The five or so times Derrick and I made love had been fantastic, but it’d only been sex. But at that moment, as he stood up to go and grab another beer, the heavy sway of his cock inside his shorts, just a hint of what lay beneath, I found my mouth dry and my panties wet.

  Elissa and Matt had shared with us earlier, that despite what we thought, they were not actually a couple, just friends on a backpacking trip together. I desperately hoped that they wouldn’t be jonesing for bed anytime soon, and Derrick and I could take advantage of a free room again. He caught me looking at him like a starved man might stare at a loaf of bread, and instead of hiding my desire I screamed it from the rooftop with my body language. A lick of the lips here, a fluttering of the eyelashes there, a well-timed bob of the eyebrows, and before I knew it, we were eye-fucking one another like crazy.

  “You guys game?” Elissa asked. She’s been prattling on for a while, but I’d rudely been ignoring her and instead making googly fucky eyes at my bunkmate.

  My head snapped up, and I smiled at her, hoping she didn’t know I hadn’t heard a word out of her mouth. “Game for what?”

  “Apparently, there is a great gay bar not too far from here. We’re going to go. You game?”

  Does that mean they wouldn’t be back for several hours? My mouth hung open, and then my eyes flitted to Derrick. The look he gave me was smoldering. I must have shaken my head a little too emphatically because the table erupted into laughter.

  “All right. Well, enjoy your privacy.” Her eyes flashed back and forth between Derrick and I. “Rita and Karina have hooked up with a couple of Brits, so they won’t even be back in the room tonight.”

  I swallowed. God, I could practically taste his skin beneath my tongue. I needed to taste more of him; I needed to taste all of him.

  I let out a sigh. “Thanks.” Though I didn’t bother to take my eyes from the sizzling man across from me. The way he was still looking at me, I could almost feel his mouth trailing wet, hot kisses down my thighs. More, deeper… please.

  We said a hasty and giggly goodbye to our roommates, stumbling down the stairs with our arms looped around one another. He fished for the keys in his pants and un
locked the door, and then before the door had even clicked shut, I was being stripped bare and forced backward toward the shower.

  “Shower.” Need dark and driven in his gruff tone. Then he reached behind me and turned on the tap. I watched him as he peeled off his shorts, a beautiful erection springing to life and slapping against his taut stomach. I lunged for it.

  His hands fell to my shoulders. “Uh-uh, greedy girl. Me first.” He helped me over the ledge and molded my body the way he wanted it. I was plastered up against the side of the shower wall, with one leg propped up on the ledge, my core spread open for him, wanton and begging. Water thrummed down all around us, beading on his lashes and in his thick and luscious hair. Was it wrong that all I wanted to do at that moment was thread my hands through it and pull his face into my pussy? I resisted the urge but wasn’t ruling it out for next time.

  “Ah,” he sighed, hunkering down onto his knees. “Me first.” But then his eyes flicked up to mine. “I’m going to eat the fuck out of you.” Holy mother of God. He dove into my pussy face-first, with the passion and vigor of an insatiable beast, tongue laving at my folds, sucking and nipping, swirling and twisting, plunging and plundering my craving cleft until I was frantically bucking into his face. Wild for an orgasm and ready and willing to do anything to get it. A curious finger probed my folds and slipped in, and then another. In and out they slid, beckoning my release, while his tongue continued to torture.

  Harsh sucks and evocative little licks were followed by a decadent sweep up from perineum to clit using the entire surface area. The man knew what he was doing, and what he was doing was driving me insane.

  “Oh God,” I mewled. “More.”

  A hum of approval buzzed through his lips, and I nearly lost my footing on the ledge. He slipped in a third finger and then let his tongue slide up one more time, ending with a tight, hard little suck on my swollen clit. I went off like a rocket, thrusting and panting as the climax ripped through me, the warmth and steam from the shower mixed with my fuzzy pisco and booze brain, making my soul lift up and out of my body. I hovered just above in the hazy fog, watching as this incredible man ate his fill of me, lapping up my juices, never seeming to be sated.

  When I finally found my head, he helped me find my feet. But I didn’t even have time to blink the water from my eyes or brush my hair off my face before his lips took mine. Passionate and demanding, he fucked my mouth with his tongue. He tasted like beer and me and damned if it wasn’t the biggest frickin’ turn on, déjà vu of the most erotic kind as his tongue plundered my mouth, mimicking the way he’d just fucked my pussy, making it long for his touch again. I ground my leg against his thigh, already desperate for more friction, for more attention.

  He chuckled low in his throat and pushed his leg against me, rubbing just the right spot until I groaned and bit his lip. His hand came up on to the top of my head and gave it a forceful push, smiling against his mouth I sunk to my knees. I liked to be bossed around and roughed up during sex. It was something I’d realized very early on in my life, after the first time my first college boyfriend and I had tried tying each other up and spanking. He preferred to do the tying and the spanking, while I asked to be shackled and punished on a regular basis. We’d worked well together for a while.

  “So greedy.” He used his free hand to stroke himself in front of me. I licked my lips and flicked my tongue against the purple crown. He was a nice size, and he kept himself neatly trimmed. “Open up, pretty girl.” Fuck, I loved dirty talk. I did as I was told, taking him into my mouth and letting him bottom out immediately. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew how to suppress my gag reflex, and I also knew what drove men wild, and deep throating was one of those things.

  I pumped him root to tip with one hand, while the other one gently trailed up his thigh and between his legs, cupping his balls, and rolling them around in my palm. They were hairless, which was a plus, and so soft. I squeezed and pulled until he inhaled and then groaned in approval. All the while, my mouth never stopped. In and out I sucked him, letting him fill my mouth and ram my tonsils, only to pull him back out to the crown and give it a gentle little nip or kiss.

  His fingers wove their way into my hair. He growled. “You’re such a dirty little thing.” He pulled my face harder and faster onto his cock. Deeper, until my eyes flashed open and tears pricked my eyes. And fuck if I didn’t love it. “I want to fuck your face so goddamned hard.”

  I moaned with him in my mouth and nodded. There was no other way to let him know I agreed; I wanted him to fuck my face hard too. I wanted him to make me cry, make me gag, blow his load in my mouth until I choked.

  But then he stopped, and using my hair, albeit with a sudden gentleness that made my heart go pitter-patter, pulled me off his cock. I blinked up at him through the spray of the water.

  His cheeks were flushed and his eyes glassy, but he also held a hint of worry on his face. “Piper…are you okay with this?”

  I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth and nodded, eager to have him back in my mouth. “Yeah.” My heart swelled with how caring he was being, but my body and my libido wanted him to stop talking and put his cock back in my mouth.

  He shook his head. “No, seriously. Things are getting a little… intense. I’m not being too big of an asshole, am I? You’re okay with the dirty talk and the rough stuff? You know I’ll never actually hurt you, right? It’s all just for fun?”

  I nodded again and reached for his cock. “If I weren't okay with it, I’d have stopped you. You were rough this afternoon, too, and I loved it. Trust me, I like it rough, and I like it dirty.” I flicked the tip of his shaft with my tongue again and then pulled down just a tad too hard on his balls. “I want you to choke me with your big cock, okay?”

  His mouth dropped open for just a second before a beast like no other emerged. His eyes grew dark and hooded while the corded muscle on his neck bulged and his nostrils flared. There was no man left. He was all animal now. His grip in my hair tightened as he pulled it from my scalp just hard enough to make me gasp. He grabbed my head and slammed my face back down onto his shaft. I coughed a little from the impact, but then quickly let him set the pace he wanted, let him use my face, all the while I twirled my tongue around from bottom to top and back, fluttering at the tip and grazing my teeth up the base, reveling in his moans and snarls.

  “You’re so fucking sexy.” His pumping was growing more erratic the closer to orgasm he got. “So fucking hot.” His fingers tightened in my hair; he stilled and then let go. Warm, salty semen spurted across my tongue and down my throat, and I took it all, bringing him to the back and milking him, swallowing as he came, knowing that the contractions of my throat heightened his pleasure. I tugged down ever so slightly on his scrotum and then, of course, just to finish off the scene, I blinked up at him and smiled, my mouth full of him. He was gaping down at me in awe, his eyes bright and full of fascination.

  He helped me to my feet. “Holy fucking God!” He ran his hands through his hair before they settled on my waist. I rested my wrists on his shoulders and finally let myself play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It was so soft.

  I couldn’t help but grin. “Good?”

  But he shook his head. “No. A blowjob is good. That wasn’t a blowjob, that was a complete and total mind-fuck with a blowjob thrown in. That was incredible. Holy fuck, woman, where’d you learn to do that?”

  I lifted one shoulder and then reached for the shampoo. I had to turn my back to him to keep from laughing as he just continued to marvel at my oral sex skills. Tilting my head back under the spray to rinse out the soap, I didn’t see him drop back down to his knees. But hands on my thighs and a warm, velvety tongue on my clit had me spreading my legs and leaning back against the wall again. Time for round two…

  “You’re seriously okay with the rough stuff?” he asked again after we’d decided to forgo sleeping in separate bunks at all, and just cuddled up together on his bottom bunk.

  I pushed my backs
ide into him and closed my eyes. “Yep.”

  I heard him inhale in my hair before he kissed the back of my head. “You’re like the perfect woman.”

  I yawned a laugh. “Well, I try.”

  “No seriously, you were okay with all of that?” He motioned for me to spin around in his arms, so we were face-to-face. I groggily did. My whole body was tired and boneless from another crazy day, not to mention all the alcohol and all the orgasms. It was a wonder my brain wasn’t complete and total mush.

  I brought my hand up and cupped his cheek as he had earlier with me. He’d shaved after we’d showered, and his skin was buttery soft. How he’d managed to not nick himself, given his blood-alcohol level, was a feat that left me rather impressed.

  “I’m seriously okay with it. I like it rough. I’m even into experimenting with some BDSM. I have for a while.”

  His face grew pensive. “You’re not just—”

  But I cut him off with a finger against his lips. “I’m not just anything. If I didn’t want you to ram your cock to the back of my throat until I choked, I wouldn’t have asked you to, okay? If I didn’t like the head push or your hands in my hair, I would have told you to stop. And you would have listened, right?”

  He nodded, his eyes beseeching, but that look of awe from earlier was still right there. I couldn’t deny the high I got from wowing him the way I did.

  “I’m a big girl,” I went on. “And I know what I like.” His cock leaped to life against my thigh, and I rolled my eyes. Men were so easy. I slipped my hand beneath the covers and started to stroke him. “And what I like… from time to time, is to be fucked rough and dirty. I like to be bossed around in bed, given orders and made to please. We haven’t known each other long, but…” I nipped his freshly shaved chin, letting my teeth travel the length of his jaw.

  He groaned.

  “I trust that if I ask you to stop, you will.”

  “I will,” he said with a swallow. His eyes held a new intensity to them, heated and driven, but there was also a sudden wariness I hadn’t noticed before. A secret hidden somewhere behind the passion. He wasn’t letting go completely with me, not just yet; there was still more to Derrick King than met the eye.