BENCHED

by Abigail Graham

  "Will you wait outside for me?"

  "Yeah, they'll get mad if you give me a fashion show in there."

  I grin and run inside, slowing when I see the breadth of the selection. There is so much, and I'm not sure what I'm looking for. Usually I choose something practical, but I want something Jason will want to see me wear.

  "Excuse me, miss?" I ask one of the employees. "I need thongs. Do you have those?"

  She gives me a quizzical look. "Yes. Ah, this way."

  Jason seemed to like the idea of black silk, so I find some of those in my size and carry them with me while I shop.

  I spot what I'm looking for, though I didn't know what it was until I saw it. It's black, lacy, and there is not much of it.

  "May I try this on?" I ask the clerk.

  "Sure, honey."

  I hurry back to the changing rooms and strip out of my clothes to put it on. When I turn around and look at myself in the mirror, I gasp and start to turn red. My heart pounds at just the idea of Jason seeing me in this.

  I quickly remove it and change back, and rush to the register to pay for it.

  Making sure it's tucked in the bag so he won't see it, I hand the bag to him.

  "All that to buy one thing?"

  "Yes. Don't look."

  "I won't. Uh, why?"

  I grin. "It is a surprise."

  He smiles, slowly.

  "So what did you think of the mall?"

  "I love it," I shout. "This will be a lot to carry on the bus."

  "We'll Uber back to campus."

  "What is an oo-ber?"

  He gives me a funny look and just laughs while he plays with his phone.

  "How are you going to get this stuff back in your house? I don't think you can carry it in the window."

  I look at the purchases and frown. "We are not done, are we? It is only just afternoon."

  "No, we're not done. I'll get us a ride back to my place."

  A car pulls up, and Jason opens the door for me. I sit inside while he puts the things I bought in the trunk, and then he gets in with me and pulls me across the seat so I sit close with him.

  "This whole place is completely strange to you, isn't it?"

  I nod.

  "You need to see more than a mall. This was so cheesy. We'll do other stuff, I swear."

  The ride back is much faster than a bus trip. Back at the house, Jason rushes me inside before carrying all the bags in from the sidewalk.

  "The brothers must be out. Hey, let's put this together."

  He fishes out the first thing we bought, the building set.

  Together, we sit on the couch in the front room. I start sorting the pieces first, putting like with like. It makes a series of piles that cover the whole table. Jason drags the table closer to the couch, and I hunch over it, rubbing shoulders with him as we read the directions.

  "You're adorable when you concentrate," he says.

  "Mmm-hmm," I reply, engrossed in the project.

  The directions take some getting used to. It's all pictures, and I have to count the studs on the bricks. Jason helps, and we pass the pieces back and forth and slowly start building a castle from the bricks.

  When the little drawbridge goes up and down, I swell with excitement and pride.

  "Ana?" Jason says casually. "Have you, um, never done this before?"

  "No. I never had any toys or dolls. I should buy some dolls. Do women buy dolls? I do not wish to be silly."

  "I don't care if you buy dolls. It's not silly to me."

  I grow bold, though my voice wavers. "I do not want a doll. I want a kiss."

  Jason gives me one, softly on the lips. I kiss him back, and warmth spreads through my body. His big fingers gently pinch the tab on the zipper of my stolen hoodie, and he tugs it down, and spreads the garment open. He puts his hands up under the fabric, up my sides, and pulls me on top of him as he falls on his back.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I don't know. You're warm."

  "Am I?" I say, and touch his cheeks.

  He yelps, and jerks under me.

  "Your hands are cold."

  I smile at him and tug his shirt loose from his jeans, and run my hands up his chest. He shivers from the chill, but he's so warm to the touch I can't believe he's cold.

  "You like being cold," he murmurs.

  "What makes you say so?"

  "You don't wear a lot of heavy clothes in the winter. You go running in just a shirt and warmup pants."

  "You've been watching me run."

  "Princess, I have something terrible to tell you."

  "Tell me. Then I'll get angry and show you how cold my feet are."

  "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you."

  "When was that?"

  Jason pulls me closer, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck to press me in so he breathes and whispers against my ear.

  "Our freshman year. You were wearing one of those goofy dresses. You had Fenstermacher's geography course. Remember how he would go on about—"

  "Arid and semiarid lands," I finish the sentence for him. "A very dry subject."

  He smiles. "Yeah. You always sat in front. I sat in the back with the bad kids. You were more interesting than the lectures."

  Jason runs his hand over my hair.

  "I never saw you until the game, when Dee talked me into going. She says you are a player."

  "I do play football."

  "She means a player of women. A loose man."

  "Do you think I am?"

  "You have played very well with me. I am wrapped around your smallest finger. It makes me wonder." I grin.

  "Are you working up to the 'how many girls' question?"

  "Perhaps I am. Perhaps I am wondering if you will assume that is what I mean."

  "You say perhaps a lot."

  I giggle.

  "Do you want the truth?"

  "Yes."

  "Hmmm," he says, rubbing my back. "Then we need to play Truth or Dare, don't we?"

  "Truth or Dare?"

  "It's a game. We take turns. You decide, a question or a dare. A challenge. If you don't answer, you have to take the challenge."

  "Are you going to challenge me to take my clothes off?"

  He laughs and hugs me against him. "No. It's more fun if I challenge you to take them off one piece at a time."

  "I agree to this game. For now."

  "You have to go first. Truth or dare?"

  "Dare," I purr.

  Jason smirks. "I dare you to go upstairs with me."

  I slowly disentangle myself from him and step away, then saunter up the stairs.

  When he gets to the top, he takes me by the hips and pushes me toward his bedroom, but I push back just a bit, my hands on his shoulders, as though we are about to dance.

  "You said upstairs. You must take your turn now."

  He gives me an annoyed look, but a smile pulls at his lips.

  "Oh, I see how it is. Fine. Dare."

  "I dare you to take off your shirt."

  He laughs loudly. "Oh really. Done."

  He whips it over his head in one smooth motion.

  I suck in a breath. Just the act of removing a t-shirt is astonishing and sends quivering heat flickering through my body. I stop myself from licking my lips, or from touching him, though my hands almost reach his chest before I snatch them back. He's broad, powerfully built, and has muscles so hard and tight that I can see a V-shape above the waistband of his jeans.

  The urge to pull them down is irresistible.

  "Your turn."

  "Dare."

  "Bedroom."

  I scamper ahead of him into his room, and he pushes the door shut, tosses his shirt on the bed, and surges toward me, taking me by the arms to push me onto the bed.

  I wriggle loose and slip around him, out of his grasp. He turns around, exasperated.

  "You said bedroom. You never said—"

  "You like to tease, don't you?"

  "Yes
. That is my truth. Now it is your turn."

  He snorts and bites his lip. "Fine. Truth."

  "How many girls have you slept with?"

  "Three."

  "Tell me about them."

  "I answered you. Time for your dare, Princess."

  "I choose truth."

  "How many guys have you been with?"

  I frown a little.

  "You can pick the dare."

  As much as I want to see what he will demand I do, I shrug. "None. I am a virgin."

  He blinks. "What, really?"

  "Yes. That's two questions—"

  "I'm glad you told me."

  I blink. "Why?"

  He touches my arms, and I stare at his inhumanly beautiful body.

  "I don't want to hurt you when we make love."

  "Who says I'll let you?"

  He smirks. "You were begging for it the other night. I can tell you want me now. You're all red, Princess, and your hands are shaking. I think if you're not paying attention, you'll start groping me."

  I grope him anyway and pay full attention.

  "Dare me," he says.

  "I dare you to take off your jeans."

  "I'll give you my shoes and socks for free."

  He takes them all off. When he pushes his jeans down, he mercifully leaves his shorts up. If he pulled them down too, I would lose control. I watch him bend and stand up, his long legs flexing with powerful muscles. His shorts barely hold on, the waistband just above the base of his cock.

  "Truth or dare."

  "I got you in here, but you have me at a disadvantage. Lose the shirt."

  I slip out of his hoodie, then slowly pull my shirt over my head. Jason's eyes focus on me intently, and his already-half-hard cock stiffens fully in his boxers as he sees my bare body, even though I still have a bra on.

  "If you keep daring me, I'm going to be naked."

  "Maybe I want you naked," I say, smirking. "I like having you at a disadvantage."

  "My turn. What do you want me to do?"

  My throat tightens with excitement.

  "Boxers" is all I can manage.

  He was already holding the waistband. He doesn't bend, just shoves them down. They fall to his feet and his cock stands up, hard and ready, and my eyes lock on it. I can't look away.

  "M-my turn," I stammer.

  "I dare you to suck my cock."

  My eyes widen. I can't stop staring at it, at him. He's amazing. I want to get my hands on him, my mouth, all over.

  "Dare accepted," I tell him and stride forward.

  I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him. He touches my bare sides lightly, then rests his hands on my back. They're gentle, but his skin is rough and coarse from gripping steel bars and throwing footballs, from hard work. I move closer and feel his erection against my stomach as I kiss and kiss and kiss him, and he kisses me back.

  He takes hold of my braid in his hand and gives it a very light pull, bending my head back as he bends over me, kissing me. He's so big. Big all over. His arms are huge. I rest my hands on his biceps and my fingers are almost flat, they're so enormous.

  "I dare you," he says, breaking from the kiss.

  "I told you I'd do it. I did not say when. Remember when you kissed me all over before you used your mouth on me?"

  "Yes. I definitely remember that."

  "Now it's my turn."

  "You want me to lie down?"

  I think for a moment. Then I shimmy out of my jeans. I will keep my underwear on for now.

  "You're wearing granny panties."

  I look down and pluck at the waistband. "They're all I have."

  He reaches for me, and I slap his hand down.

  "No touching. That wasn't part of the dare. Stand still. Stay standing. I like to look at you."

  Jason

  I've never been this hard in my life.

  Standing here buck-ass naked while Ana circles me, it takes everything I have to hold still, and that's even with all the blood in my body rushing to my dick. I feel like I'm going to explode, every fiber of my being bundled with nervous energy. I'm shaking, I'm so excited.

  I can't tear my eyes off her. She's wearing the most unflattering underwear ever, high-waisted panties. That somehow makes her more irresistible. Her lacy black bra cups her full breasts, and I want to tear it off her and get my hands on them. The white cotton hugs her waist and clings to her ass, so when she walks around me, I can see the muscles flexing.

  God she's perfect. I want to lick every inch of her and start over, feel her stomach and breasts and legs under my hands, run my fingers through her hair, and kiss her, kiss her, kiss her. For hours. Suck her nipples, eat her pussy, hold her down while she comes and make her climax over and over and over until her eyes roll back in her head.

  I want to fuck her. I want to bend her over the bed and knot my fingers in her hair and thrust into her to the hilt again and again until I explode and keep doing it as long as I'm hard, until she's exhausted and I'm spent, then just lie on her with my cock in her and feel her heat. I can still feel how tight and hot her pussy was from the last time.

  She circles me like a shark circling prey, and the more she looks at my cock, the harder I get until my erection is bordering on painful. I can feel my balls boiling, my whole body throbbing with desire for her. When she licks her lips, the image of her taking me in her mouth fills my head. I want to see her soft lips pressed around my shaft, feel her soft tongue on my cock, watch her eyes as my cum slides down her throat.

  I want to fucking own her. She plucks at her bra strap to tease me and circles me again.

  Every ounce of my willpower bends to keeping my mouth shut. I don't want to ruin this. She touches me with more confidence than before, her hands sliding over my chest, her nails running lightly down my stomach. Her hands ghost over the length of my cock without touching, and my hips jerk forward, reaching for her like my dick has taken on a mind of its own.

  This is torture.

  Just as I start to really shake, she walks behind me, and I feel her hands on my shoulders, and her tongue right between my shoulder blades.

  Oh fuck.

  Ana

  He twitches when I step behind him and run my hands down his back, and squeeze his ass. His magnificent, muscular ass. I can't help it; I lick the middle of his back, right between his shoulder blades.

  "What are you doing?"

  "You licked my back," I remind him. "If you want a blowing job, stay still."

  "It's blowjob, honey."

  "Oh. Right."

  I forget all that when I touch him, his skin warm under my hands, and smooth and soft.

  I let my bra and underwear fall. I can't stand to be bound by them anymore.

  I rub my cheek against his back, and he tenses as my breasts brush his skin. I press closer and slip my arms around him, running them up and down his sides, his chest.

  My hand glides down his stomach, and I take hold of his cock. I do only what feels natural. I touch it, feel it, listen to his heart beat faster when I let its rigid firmness slide through my fingers. I want to lie on his back and soak in his heat.

  "Your hand is still cold."

  "You seem to like it well enough," I tell him as I cup his balls in my hand.

  I stroke him slowly, kissing along his shoulders, his arms. He jerks when I sniff at his armpits.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I like the smell."

  I work my way around his front, watching his reaction as he looks down at me. I run my hands up over his broad shoulders and kiss his chest, and he immediately tenses with a sucked-in breath when I kiss him again, this time lower, just an inch, so close it could almost be the same spot.

  "Please," he says.

  I look up at him, and his arms jerk. He wants to touch me, but I told him no, and he's listening.

  Pressing my lips against his hard stomach, I taste his skin, run my tongue over it.

  "Do you want me to kneel?" I whisper.

  "I
'll lie down if you—"

  "Do you want me to kneel?" I ask.

  Before he answers, I trap his cock against my chest and let the underside of his shaft slide over my body as I stand up and press against him.

  "Yes," he blurts out. "I want to watch you get on your knees and suck me off."

  "That's the truth," I murmur and sink to my knees.

  I take him in both hands and work myself up. I want to do it, I do want to, but it's such a strange thing. I feel almost giddy, excited by the idea. At first I only have the courage to tip forward and touch my lips to the head of his cock.

  They spread over the head, and he groans. I don't yet truly take him into my mouth. I look up and watch his reaction. His entire body tenses, turning marble to steel as his muscles go rigid under his skin.

  "Sit down," I tell him.

  He backs to the bed and sits. I move toward him on my knees, and his eyes drink my body, like the promise of fingers on my skin, my lips, my breasts.

  "Don't lie down. Sit up. Touch me."

  I'm not sure what I expect, but his legs close against my arms and he leans forward, stroking my hair and my chin as I take him in my mouth. I suck the head first, then take him deeper. He's just too huge to take in entirely. Too long at this and my jaw will ache, but the taste has me enthralled, the heat of him filling my mouth like a kiss, but more raw, more sexual, more lustful.

  "This is so fucking hot," he groans, pulling me to him.

  I use my hands and mouth on him, and he starts to shake.

  Pulling back, I lightly stroke him in my hands and look up at him.

  "Are we still playing Truth or Dare?"

  He nods, apparently at a loss for words.

  "I'm going to make you come in my mouth, and I dare you to kiss me."

  I dip forward before he can answer and throw myself at it. Whether I am any good, I do not know. I make up for lack of practice with enthusiasm. This is not a degradation at all. I feel powerful. I own him. He's giving himself to me. When he grunts and jerks back and his legs tighten around me, it's an embrace. When his cock throbs and fills my mouth with a burst of hot seed, I gulp it down hungrily, eager to have him inside me, to be his.

  I need not repeat my dare. He hooks his hands under my arms and yanks me up and kisses me hard, driving his tongue into my mouth. Before I can even break the kiss, he rolls me onto the bed and pins me down with his weight, and he kisses me even harder, like he wants to swallow me.