Sunny’s hand wanders from my shoulder, down my arm to my side. I know where she’s headed when her fingertips reach the waistband of my shorts. Normally I’d be damn excited about this.
Unfortunately, I was in a rush getting to her, so I didn’t have time to rub one out before I got on the plane. It’s three in the morning. The last time I self-loved was yesterday. I whack a minimum of twice a day. Usually first thing in the morning and before bed. I’m behind, which means if she puts her hand on me, after two weeks of only my own, I’m likely to blow real fast. And I could probably use a quick clean-up with a razor. It’s not pretty in my pants right now.
Thankfully, we’re pressed up right against each other, and I’m grinding all over her, so it’s a struggle to get a hand between us. She gives up after a minute, her hands going back to my ass.
“Maybe we should go upstairs,” she says when I break free from her lips and kiss a path down her neck.
“That’s an idea.”
Except it will take us out of the moment. Plus, there’s something extra hot about making out with her in one of these hideous chairs, in the middle of her family living room. I scan the room; all the curtains are drawn, so her pervy neighbors can’t see inside. I decide I want to make her come here. That way, every time I have to sit in this room and chitchat with her parents, I’ll have this awesome memory.
I inch toward the top of her thigh. Sunny groans and her legs tighten on my hips.
“Let’s go to my room.”
“Whadda you wanna do up there that we can’t do here?” I bite her collarbone through her shirt.
Sunny arches, pushing her chest out. Her cleavage might be ruined by the damn sports bra, but it’s not padded; I can still see the faintest outline of nipple through her shirt. I brush over the spot with a knuckle.
“Miller.”
“’Sup, baby?” This time I slide a hand under her shirt, tickling along her ribs. When I reach that stupid bra I push it up until her breasts pop out the bottom. Now I can see her perfect nipples through the sheer fabric. It’s almost better than having an unobstructed view.
“Let’s just go—”
The words die when I cover her nipple with my mouth.
“Oh, God.” She wraps both arms around my head.
I’m kneading one boob while I suck on the other nipple, leaving a hand free. I feel my way up into her shorts until I reach the edge of her panties. I don’t go under, though, because that’s exactly what she wants me to do. Instead I follow the elastic down to the juncture of her thigh and the most exciting spots.
I could get her naked. It’d be superhot. But here’s the thing about foreplay: sometimes it’s hotter with clothes on. There’s something extra sexy about making a woman come fully dressed. Well, as much as Sunny’s outfit counts as being fully dressed.
I palm her through the damp cotton, and she tries to lift her hips. It’s a challenge considering her back is arched, and she’s sitting in a chair.
I release her nipple. The pale pink shirt sticks to her boob where it’s wet. “You still wanna go upstairs?”
Sunny blinks, her confusion cute. “What?”
“Upstairs? You wanna go there?” Her panties are blue with a tiny white and dark blue polka dot pattern. I slide the tip of my finger under the elastic at the crest of her pelvis.
“Right now?” Her expression is priceless.
“If you want.”
“I’m good here.”
“You sure are,” I mutter as I drag a knuckle over soft, smooth skin. She’s wet and hot, and dude, I want to go pussy diving so fucking bad. Maybe I’ll finally get to later tonight.
I unwrap her legs from around my hips, and Sunny shifts forward, slouching down. She drapes one leg over the arm of the chair, the other one I hook over my forearm. The view is fucking awesome.
I use my thumb to push her panties to the side, exposing that perfect pink slit.
“Know what I can’t stop thinking about?”
“Hmm?” Her gaze is slow to lift from where my fingers are.
“The way you look when you come.” I rub a few slow circles around her clit.
Sunny’s eyes close, and she bites her lip.
“And all those little moans when I find the right spot.” I slip one finger inside, and she makes the sound I’m hoping for. “Just like that.”
I add another finger, going deeper until her cheeks flush and her mouth drops open. She clutches my forearm.
“Holy—” she gasps. “Sweet—oh, God. I—Miller.” She draws out my name, eyes wide, her expression reflecting her need.
“Am I hitting the right spot?”
She nods furiously, her grip tightening. “You always hit the right spot.”
“Want me to fumble around a little?”
“No!” She digs her nails into my skin. “I’m right th—”
She contracts around my fingers, showing me what she was about to tell me. Sunny’s eyes meet mine, wide with shock. I don’t know why she’s always so surprised when she comes, like it’s unexpected.
She releases my arm and grabs my shoulders, pulling me forward until our lips collide. Her tongue shoots into my mouth, twisting with mine as she moans. I feel like the motherpucking man.
That is until she breaks the kiss, flops back in the chair, and says, “I kinda hate that you’re so good at that.”
There’s a bite to her words. Looks like she’s not as over the social media stuff as she thinks. I remove my hand from inside her panties, adjusting her underwear so they’re back in place, and lower her leg to the floor. “You hate that I can make you come with my fingers? Yeah, I can see how that’s real unfortunate. I can always pretend I don’t know what I’m doing.” I make a joke out of it, but there’s a weight in my chest. I don’t like it. I can’t help that I’m good at the sex.
“I don’t mean it the way you’re taking it.” She cups the back of my head to stop me from moving away. “It’s just that I come every time. What if I can’t do the same for you? It’s a lot of pressure, and I don’t have nearly as much practice . . .” She lets the sentence hang.
“You’re worried about not being able to get me off?” I sound confused because, well, I don’t get it. There isn’t much skill involved in stroking a cock. It’s essentially an up and down motion. Women aren’t nearly as mechanically simple.
“Well, yeah. I mean that happens, right? Sometimes guys can’t—”
“Blast the cannon?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess. I mean, I’d have to have some serious whiskey dick, or maybe if I whacked off, like, twenty times that day I might have a problem, but a strong breeze is usually enough to get me hard.”
Her eyes dart down, and her hand moves from my chest to my waistband, palming me. “You’re already hard.”
“Uh, yeah. I got to watch you come on my fingers. For sure I’m hard.”
“That turns you on?” I can’t tell if she’s surprised or curious.
“Definitely.”
She gives me a squeeze. “Fingering me made you this hard?”
Those words coming out of her mouth, combined with the feel of her hand on my dick, even through my shorts, reroutes even more blood below my waist. There are a lot of factors that got me to this level of hardness. It’s the argument, followed by the make-out session, and the way I can still see her nipples through her shirt because her bra is pushed up. It’s how she’s sitting in the chair, that she’s fully dressed, that I watched what I was doing while I was getting her off—all of it together makes me this hard. And the fact that I haven’t whacked it since yesterday morning.
But the simple answer is, “Yeah. Fingering you makes me this hard.”
“Oh. That’s . . . wow. I make you really hard.”
I hold back a laugh. “You sure fucking do, Sunny Sunshine.”
She goes for the zipper, and I put my hand over hers.
My balls are going to hate me. But I can’t have her hand on me yet. I’ll e
mbarrass myself, so I use the only reasonable excuse I have for not wanting her to touch my dick. “Baby, I’ve been traveling all night. I should probably get cleaned up before you go sticking your hand down there.”
“I don’t mind. You smell good to me.” She makes another attempt.
I grab her hand and lift it to my lips. “Sunny, sweets, I appreciate your enthusiasm, and I share it, but I could use a shower.”
“You could shower after. It probably won’t take long, right?”
I can’t stop the laugh this time. “I’d much rather you put your hand on my dick when it’s freshly washed and hasn’t been marinating in my pants all day. And to be honest, I’d feel a lot better if it did take a long time—you know, instead of two minutes or less.”
“Oh! Right. Of course. Longer is always better.” Her huge grin is a front-row seat to a sunrise. It makes the near-embarrassment worth it. She adjusts her bra so her boobs aren’t hanging out the bottom, then swings her legs over the edge of the chair, bouncing to her feet. She holds out her hand. “Come on!”
I rearrange my dick so I’m not tenting my shorts and lace my fingers with hers.
I grab my bags from the front hallway on our way to the second floor. Sunny’s parents are smart when it comes to protecting their only daughter’s virtue. Her bedroom is down the hall from theirs. To get there, you have to pass the master suite. There’s an office separating their rooms, and the spare bedroom is at the very opposite end of the hall. That’s also where the staircase leading to the third floor is. Her brother had the room there growing up.
The two times I’ve stayed here previously I slept in the spare room. It’s a landmine of squeaky spots to get all the way to Sunny. I sure as hell tried. Also, Titan sleeps outside her door; he might be small, but he’s got a loud, yappy bark. I had to pretend I forgot where the bathroom was when her mom came out to see why he was making so much noise.
I head for the spare room out of habit, but Sunny grabs my hand and leads me down the hall. “You can use my bathroom.”
Sunny’s room resembles a student apartment. She has a quilt made out of concert T-shirts in place of a duvet. A desk takes up one corner to create an office-like space. It’s separated with strings of beads hanging from the ceiling. Titan comes running through the room, making the beads jingle as he jumps up on her desk chair. It spins around as he sits there, tongue lolling.
The best part about Sunny’s room is her bed. She has a California king. It’s the only mistake her parents made, from what I can see—that and leaving her alone this weekend so I could come and visit without supervision. If I had a daughter, she’d be sleeping in a single bed until she moved out. I want to get naked, roll around on her concert duvet, and test out her flexibility while we fuck our brains out on that huge bed.
But I need to shower first.
CHAPTER SIX
DOWN WITH THE COOKIE, UP WITH THE OS
I drop my bags and follow Sunny into the bathroom. She opens the linen closet and hands me a towel, then gestures to the tub with the see-through curtain. “There’s shampoo and soap and my loofah in there, if you want to use it.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
“Do you need anything else?” She glances down at my crotch.
I still have a hard-on. “I think I’m good.”
“You don’t need anything else?” She waits a few more seconds, eyes darting from my crotch to my face and back again.
“I think everything’s covered.”
“You’re positive?” She takes a step toward the door; she doesn’t look all that excited about leaving.
“I’ll be out in, like, ten.” I turn on the water, and Sunny backs out into her room, closing the door behind her.
I let out a relieved groan. I’d love to invite her to join me, but I’m already blueballed out the ying-yang. If she gets naked and wet and puts her hand on me, I’m going to come instantly. Then she’ll never want to have sex with me because she’ll think I’m a two-pump chump. Better to take care of this situation on my own. It’s not like I’m going to need much recovery time. I’ll probably be ready to go again as soon as I’m out of the shower.
Shoving my shorts down, I set my dick free. It sticks straight out. My balls aren’t even hanging, they’re so tight. I step under the hot spray, grab my handle, and give it a couple of test jerks. It’s not even enjoyable, my balls are so achy. Also, my hands are still postseason rough, upping the sensitivity factor.
Usually I get those paraffin wax hand treatments to keep them softish, but the chick that does it for me was also on my honey list. She has a spa set up in her house, which is conveniently located down the street from my condo. Afterwards she used to take care of my dick—by wrapping it in her vagina. Since I’m seeing Sunny, I need to find a new place where that isn’t an expectation.
I grab the closest bottle and squirt some of its contents onto my hand to help speed things along—not that I need much help. The minty aroma fills the steamy space. It explains why Sunny’s hair always smells like a mojito. I don’t take into account that mint opens pores. I’m stroking away, and all of a sudden things start to get hot. I turn into the spray to wash it off, but it compounds the heat. My dick is on fire.
I have to bite my knuckle to keep from swearing. Even with the blue balls and the fire dick, I finish in less than two minutes. I have zero control over my aim, so I accidentally come all over Sunny’s loofah sponge thing. I rinse it off, but there’s no way I’m using it to wash my body.
Now that I’ve taken care of issue number one, I check out the state of my balls. The situation could be worse. For now I’ll have to make do with a clean up. I use the pink razor in the shower since mine are in my bag. Using it means my balls have now vicariously touched Sunny’s legs, and possibly her pussy. Yup. I can already feel blood rushing back down below the waist. I hurry through the rest of the shower.
It isn’t until I’m toweling off that I realize I left my clean clothes in my duffle bag, which is sitting on the other side of the door. I peek my head out, expecting to find Sunny lying on her bed, waiting for me—in my head she was naked—but I don’t see her anywhere. She doesn’t respond when I call her name.
I cross over to my bag and drop the towel on the floor, letting my balls air dry as I hunt for a pair of shorts. Just as I find what I’m looking for, the floor creaks.
“I brought you a giant penis.” Sunny is standing in the hall holding a bottle in each hand. “I mean a drink, since you already have one of those.” She uses the beer bottle to point in the direction of my crotch.
“You think my thunder stick is gigantic?”
“Thunder stick?”
“Is lightning rod of pleasure better?”
She sets the drinks down on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. “You’re ridiculous.”
I consider forgoing the shorts and walking around naked, like I would if I was at my own place, but Sunny’s had an orgasm. I can’t be sure she wants to get right back to it like I do. I turn to the side and fumble around, trying to get my foot in the leg without flashing her again. I’m hoping the shower intermission doesn’t backfire on me and they come off again soon.
Her eyes drop to my waist as I tuck myself into the shorts. “You’re not hard anymore.”
“Dicks are like balloons, they deflate.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Did you make it deflate?”
There isn’t much of a point to lying. “Yeah.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I wanted to make it deflate.”
I walk over and stroke her cheek. “Sunny, baby, you can deflate my dick any damn time you want. You don’t even have to ask.”
She rolls her eyes, but leans into the touch. “Was the shower an excuse to deflate?”
“That and I always feel gross after flying.” Violet’s the one who made it a problem after she mentioned that I’m breathing recycled air, and it’s full of people’s skin particles and shit floating around in the confi
ned space. Sometimes she’s a real asshole.
“So you—” She gestures to my crotch, making the whacking-off motion. She’s generous in the way she holds her hand in a “C” shape, so it looks like I have a beer can for a dick. I’m hung, but that’s more in line with a circus dick.
“I did.”
“I hope you cleaned my shower after you spanked your monkey in it.” She moves back on the bed, making room for me.
“Spank my—did you—” I follow after her. “I think you’ve been talking to Violet too much.” I’m definitely not telling her I blew my load on her loofah. I need to remember to throw it out before she uses it again.
“I have an older brother, remember? His skating friends were always here, being gross. I went to my first party before I was legal to vote. I might not have the personal experience you do, but I’ve heard it all. Oh, and those boys in figure skating are way worse than the ones who play hockey.”
“Really?” I know Waters figure skated for a lot of years before he went to professional hockey. Almost every professional hockey player does a year of figure skating. It helps develop skills on the ice.
“Well, yeah, there are girls in figure skating. Those boys were always trying to get with them. It was all incest-y. Everyone was dating everyone else. Except Alex. He didn’t date anyone ’cause he was too busy.” She cocks her head to the side. “I bet the girls loved you when you were in figure skating. Those spandex outfits don’t hide anything.”
“I didn’t have to wear any spandex. I just took the lessons. I didn’t do the performance stuff.”
“Probably better that way. You would’ve terrified the ladies with your sword of lust.”
“I like that one.” I straddle her legs and lie on top of her, bracing my weight on my forearms, like a plank, and settle my head on her chest.
“What are you doing?”
“Cuddling with you.”
I’m not a pussy. I just like the snuggles. With bunnies I try to limit it to three minutes tops, otherwise they start to get the wrong idea. But I don’t have to limit cuddle time with Sunny.
PUCKED Up Page 8