by Maria Monroe
"Lia," he says. "I am so hard right now."
"Can I take off your shirt?" Without answering, he pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor.
"OK, then," I say with a small laugh. "Why wouldn't you let me take off your shirt until now?"
"If you knew how badly I want you? If you knew how hard it was for me to hold back? You'd understand why my clothes need to stay on."
"And now?"
"Now I can't stop thinking about how in just a little while my dick is going to be inside your gorgeous mouth."
"But you have to tell me exactly what to do," I whisper, my hand moving lower until I touch his erection through his jeans. It's so hard and so big, bigger than I thought a guy could be. Will I be able to fit it inside my mouth? What about inside of me? I shiver as I think about that, a warmth growing, once more, between my legs.
"You touching me . . . " he murmurs. "I have fantasized about this for so, so long."
"Oh yeah?" I fiddle with the button on his jeans, and he leans back so I can unbutton it. I swallow, feeling a swirling mix of nerves and excitement. When I pull the zipper down, he sighs, and his hardness pushes against my hand, his desire trying to escape the confines of his clothes.
"Julian," I whisper as I gently fondle him through his boxer briefs. He moves in my hand, and when I grasp him tighter he moans. Head thrown back, he closes his eyes as I explore the way he feels. I slip my hand into the opening of his underwear, touching his naked cock for the first time ever. It's smooth, the skin taut from his erection, and I run my fingers up and down gently. At the tip there's a drop of wetness, and with my finger I rub the moisture over the head of his penis. His eyes, when I glance up, are half closed, but he's staring at me with an intensity I've never seen before. Slowly, I put my finger into my mouth.
"I like the way you taste, Julian."
"Fuck," he hisses through his teeth. He reaches out his hand like he wants to take control, but withdraws it instead.
"I want to make you feel good. I just don't know how."
"God, everything you do feels good."
"So should I, like, kneel on the floor? While you sit on the bed? Or do you want to lie down?"
He groans again, and I knew that my words are making him even hotter.
"Either way," he says, his voice strangled. Then: "Kneel. I'll sit on the bed. I want to be able to see everything you're doing."
I can tell he's trying to take control back, but I can see it's hard for him to focus right now. I stand in front of him, and he reaches out and touches my breasts, then runs his finger down my body until he curves it up into the wetness between my legs. I gasp, wanting to stay like that to let him touch me, but instead I kneel down in front of him. His jeans and underwear are still on, and he lifts his hips up so I can pull them off.
There he is. In front of me. So big and hard, straining upwards, and the thing that turns me on the most is that I can tell how excited he is to have me here in front of him like this. I'm intimidated, though, unsure of exactly what I'm supposed to do next. I know it involves licking and sucking, but what if I do it wrong? What if he hates it and I ruin everything? Is there such a thing as a bad blow job? If there is, count on me to give it.
As if sensing my hesitation, he says, "Lia, are you sure you want to do this?"
"I'm sure. Just please tell me what to do."
He lets out a ragged breath. "Lick it, Lia. Lick me. You can hold my dick in your hand and lick just the tip for now."
"OK." I move closer, then lower my head until my lips are right at the tip of his cock. Slowly, I open my mouth and touch him with my tongue. He moans quietly, which turns me on. Knowing how much power I have over him in that instant excites me, and I feel myself growing wet again. I lick him some more, marveling at how smooth his cock is, tasting the salty pre-cum he’s released. This time I start a little closer to the base of his penis and moving up to the tip again. I do this a few more times, his labored breathing spurring me on. Then I open my mouth over him and take the first two inches of him into my mouth. Careful not to scratch him with my teeth, I use my lips to suck slowly as I move my mouth almost to the tip, then down again.
"Holy fuck, Lia," he mutters. "That feels so good."
"It's OK?" I ask, looking up at him with half-feigned innocence. I can tell from the sounds he's making that he loves this, and I'm surprised and happy that it's not as complicated as I thought it would be.
"It's more than OK." He runs one hand through my hair as he leans back on his other hand on the bed.
"Should I keep going?"
"Mmm," he responds, so I bend my head again, taking more of him into my mouth and sucking as I draw my lips to the tip and back down again.
"Lia, your mouth feels so good. And you look so hot right now with my dick in your mouth. I'm going to come really soon. I can't hold back."
I keep moving my mouth, feeling his body flexing, knowing that he wants to move but is holding back. I stop for a second and say, "I thought that was the point. To make you come."
"Lia . . . "
I start again, and this time his hips aren't as still. He moves deeper into my throat with each suppressed thrust.
"Oh god," he moans, leaning back more, and I can feel his thighs tensing. His breathing's coming harder, each gasp being released with a low moan, and I know he's close. "I'm going to come, Lia. I'm coming," he says moving his body back on the bed as if he wants me to stop.
I assume he doesn't want to come in my mouth—or wants to, but is afraid of scaring me. But if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it, and I decide I'm going to try to swallow. Shaking my head slightly as my mouth continues to work, I grasp his butt with one hand to keep him from moving away.
"Oh god, fuck, I'm coming, Lia." His whole body tenses, and his huge dick pulses inside my mouth as his warm cum fills my mouth. I let it reach the back of my throat, then swallow quickly, then once more as his orgasm continues. I slow my mouth down so I'm sucking only gently now, then stop completely, holding his semi-hard dick in my hand. He collapses back on the bed, breathing so hard it sounds like he just finished a race.
The room is silent except for his breathing, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say something. I crawl up onto the bed and lie down next to him. For a few seconds it seems like he doesn't even notice me there, but then he reaches out and rolls me towards him so my head's on his chest. A low growly laugh escapes from his lips.
"Holy shit, Lia," he says.
"Was that OK?"
"OK? That was an A-fucking-plus."
"When is our next lesson?"
"I'm starting to think you like these . . . sessions," he whispers.
"Starting to?"
"Oh, I promise you this is nothing compared to what’s next, Lia," he says, running his hand down my still-naked stomach and touching me between my legs, gently at first, then with more pressure so I grind against his hand and moan. I reach out too for him, surprised to find his cock rock-hard again already. So soon? Can guys do that? I grasp him in my hand, his dick pulsing and hardening still more when I do. His breathing alters, becomes deeper again, but he pulls away and sits up, then grabs his boxers and jeans and pulls them on.
"What's wrong?" I ask. I thought he was enjoying himself.
"Nothing. You feel so fucking good."
"Then why are you putting your clothes on?"
"Because we're done for today. Because if I don't put my clothes up, I'm going to be inside of you in less than a second, and I don't think you're ready for that yet."
"What if I tell you I'm ready?"
"Did you forget who makes the rules? Get dressed. I'll walk you back to your dorm."
Chapter Seven
A hard pounding on my dorm room door wakes me up. I glance at my phone. It's five in the morning. On a Saturday. What's going on?
"Greer, get the door," I mutter. "It's probably one of your friends."
It's true. Her friends are always coming in a
nd out, and I've never had anybody come to visit, except Vanessa on a rare occasion and Julian, when he walked me home. I close my eyes and roll back towards the wall as I hear Greer swear, then clamber out of bed and stagger to the door. She opens it just enough to peek out with the chain lock still attached, and immediately her voice becomes clearer and more upbeat than it should be for this time of morning.
"Julian!" she exclaims. "Come in!" She undoes the chain lock, then opens the door. What is he doing here? "I'm Greer? We met briefly at a party when you were walking Lia home . . .?"
Her voice trails off as Julian saunters to my bed. "Nice to see you again, Greer,” he says, staring at me the whole time. “Lia, get up."
"Julian, what's going on? Is everything OK?"
"Everything's fine. But you’re coming with me." His voice is light, but there’s a hint of the demanding Julian I know from his bedroom.
"Why?"
"Field trip." He raises an eyebrow, and his gorgeous lips form a mischievous grin.
"Oh god," I say, rubbing my eyes with my fists. "It's so early."
He leans down, his lips brushing my hair back so he can whisper into my ear. "Lia, be outside in ten minutes. I'll be waiting." He has that tone, that tone he uses during our "lessons," and I'm instantly turned on, my fatigue flying away almost magically. What is it about his voice?
"Yes, sir," I said with a wry grin, giving him a mock salute. He leaves, shutting the door hard behind him.
"Oh. My. God. Lia," says Greer. "He is so hot! What did he mean by field trip?"
I blush, wondering what Greer would think if she knew about the lessons I have with Julian. "Oh, we're supposed to study. That's just what he calls it."
"It's five in the morning, Lia, on a Saturday. Nobody studies now. Especially not someone like Julian." She gives me a knowing look and rolls her eyes, but I can see the wistful jealousy in her expression. Never in a million years would I have thought someone like Greer could be jealous of me, but oddly I don’t feel victorious. I’m starting to admit I actually like Greer, despite all our differences.
I pretend to ignore her now, focusing instead on getting dressed as quickly as possible. Where is he taking me? What's his plan? And Greer's question about what exactly he means by field trip is a good one. I'm dying to know too. I pull on jeans and a sweater, and since it's cold outside and field trip conjures up images of being outdoors, my hiking boots as well.
"So are you guys like . . . together officially?" asks Greer, watching me get ready.
"No, it's not like that."
"What's it like, then?" she asks as I run some mascara along my eye lashes.
"We're just . . . we study together. I'm friends with his sister. I've told you this already, Greer."
"I know. Just . . . I don't know . . . there's this vibe I get?"
"Nothing's going on," I insist.
"Yeah? Then why are you putting on makeup? You never used to wear makeup, Lia."
"Greer, you're impossible!"
"Know what's impossible? For you to deny the obvious. Here," she says, handing me her coveted Versace Bright Crystal perfume. "You can use some. Just a little."
"Thanks, Greer," I say, spraying my neck once. This is a huge deal. Greer doesn't share her Versace with anyone, not even her fellow pledges.
I pull on a lined sweatshirt to combat the cold fall air, and grab a pair of gloves just in case.
"Have fun," says Greer, slipping back under her covers. "Lucky," she adds as I head to the door.
"You're the lucky one to get to stay in a nice warm bed."
"Yeah? Well, I'd sacrifice, like, a warm bed to be with Julian. Or probably combine the two?"
"Friends," I remind her. "Just friends."
"Sure," she mutters and pulls the comforter over her head. Laughter bubbles up inside me, the sheer joy of being more than friends with Julian filling me with giggles. OK, so we don't have an official designation or anything. But we've definitely advanced far beyond just study buddies. I blush as I leave the room, closing the door quietly behind me.
Outside, the lamp posts are still lit against the dark sky. Julian's waiting outside the dorm, leaning against a car that I assume belongs to him and Vanessa. Like usual, he's wearing worn jeans and his hoodie, the hood pulled up on his head. Even his posture is self assured and masculine, one leg crossed casually over the other, hands shoved in his sweatshirt pockets. When it comes to Julian, the simple act of standing can apparently turn me on. It's ridiculous, but there it is, the giddy sensation in my chest, the beating of my heart, the desire to touch his chest, his arms, to have him feel me. I can't stop thinking about his hands caressing my body, one of his fingers tracing a line down my stomach, lower and lower . . .
"Morning," he says, languidly raising himself from the car as I approach.
"Barely," I mutter.
"Oh Lia. It'll be worth it. Have I disappointed you yet?"
"No." My heartbeat picks up. It's crazy how turned on he can get me through words alone, and I fight down the attraction. I don't even know where we're going or what we're doing.
Julian surprises me by opening the passenger door for me, then waiting till I get in so he can close it. His wise-ass exterior has fooled me into thinking he's beyond manners, and I'm glad to see he can be a gentleman too.
"Where are we going?" I ask as he gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine. I notice a thermos of coffee in the middle console and point. "Can I have some?"
"No." He starts driving.
"Seriously? Why not?"
"Because I said so." For a second his eyes leave the road and meet mine, a grin spreading across his face.
I can't help smiling back. "Why are you always in charge?"
Eyes on the road, he shrugs casually. "I thought you wanted me to teach you things. I believe those were your exact words, Lia."
"Well, that doesn't apply to things like coffee."
"Just be patient."
"Fine," I mutter, but I'm still smiling. "Where are we going anyway?"
"Lia. Why do you always have to ask so many questions?"
"What's wrong with being curious?"
"Absolutely nothing," he responds, glancing at me for a second before looking back at the road. "In fact, your curiosity is actually an awful lot of fun."
I breathe in quickly, his words, as usual, filling me with giddy excitement.
"But," he adds, "sometimes you have to be patient and let things happen the way they will. Surprises can be fun too."
"Fine. You win. But I really want some of that coffee."
He laughs, the sound pure and happy, unlike the dark laughter I've heard in the bedroom with him. This is a different side I haven't seen before, this carefree and funny Julian. "Just wait, Lia. Trust me, OK?"
"OK." I settle back in my seat and watch the dark trees out the window as we speed along. Trust me. I barely know him, but somehow trusting him isn't hard to imagine. He might be an asshole sometimes, but I'm starting to sense an honesty about him; I think he has too much integrity to mess around with lies and deceit.
The car slows and Julian pulls onto a dirt road that starts to wind up a tree-lined path. As he continues to drive I can see, through the darkness outside the windows, that we're driving higher and higher, a steep drop-off apparent outside the passenger side. I try not to look out the window. Julian keeps driving, circularly up the winding hill, and I lean back and take some deep breaths to keep myself from freaking out.
"Nervous?" asks Julian with a laugh.
"A little," I admit. I don't have a diagnosable fear of heights, but situations where falling to certain death is a possibility have never made me comfortable.
"Relax."
"Easy for you to say."
"You can trust me. I know what I'm doing."
Thinking about the various meanings that statement makes me focus less on the winding and steep road and more on his hands as they hold the steering wheel, makes me remember how those same strong hands kn
ow exactly how to touch me, how to drive me crazy. I close my eyes, immersing myself in the memory of his fingers and mouth on me, and before I know it he stops the car.
"We're here," he says.
He grabs the thermos and a bag from the back seat and gets out. I do too, looking around me. We're on top of an extremely high hill from which we can see out in all directions. There are mostly forests around us. The sky's still dark, but with a hint of light towards the east. Julian pulls a blanket out of the bag and spreads it on the ground.
"Sit down," he says, and when I do he sits next to me, then pulls another blanket over our shoulders to keep the chill of the fall morning out. He hands me the thermos.
"So I'm finally allowed to have some?"
"Unless you start acting bratty." He winks at me and I open the thermos and take a sip of the coffee, black and hot and delicious.
"Oh my god, that's so good."
"I think that's what you said yesterday."
"Julian!" I nudge him with my elbow, and he laughs, taking the thermos and drinking some. "So what?" I ask. "We're going to watch the sunrise?"
“Is that too cliché for you?” he teases, holding the thermos away from me.
I laugh. “No! I was just asking.”
"We are. But just wait. I wouldn't drag you out of bed if it wasn't something awesome. Sleep is pretty much sacred to me."
"You mean awesome as in literally awesome?" I smirk at him, my turn to tease.
"Smart ass." He places one hand, strong and warm, on my jeans-clad leg and squeezes. For a second I close my eyes. "And yes, I do mean literally awesome," he adds.
We sit in silence for a few more minutes, a line of orange at the bottom of darkness before us, and then Julian says, "Oh, wait. I forgot." He pulls a take-out container from the bag. "Breakfast."