by Kim Wickford
He let out a string of dirty curses. I glanced up to see that his eyes were closed and his head was tipped back. His mouth formed an "O" of ecstasy. And I'd only just begun. Ever so slowly I began to push my mouth around him. I lapped at the tender underside of his penis, eliciting little grunts of satisfaction from him.
I wanted Logan to feel so good. I wanted to show him that I could give him as much oral pleasure as he had given me. I didn't have a whole lot of experience giving blowjobs, so I ended up spending more time than I cared to admit watching online porn and perfecting my technique on my dildo. The hours of hard work had paid off. I was able to draw Logan all the way back into my throat with little difficulty. Luckily, I'd learned to control my gag reflex, so after a little gentle pushing I was able to wrap my mouth around the base of his shaft. The tip of my nose brushed against his belly. I choked a little, still not quite used to his thickness, and tears streamed from my eyes, but it felt marvelous to swallow him whole.
"Amber," he groaned, "your mouth feels amazing."
I eased back a little, curled both my hands around his shaft, and pumped his silky root while I sucked. A steady stream of pre-cum began to pour from his opening. I lapped up the sweet fluid like it was candy. The taste of his cock was better than anything I could imagine.
I pulled off him with a soft plop. "Come for me, Logan," I whispered. "Please, come for me. I want to feel you in my mouth. I want to taste you on my tongue."
With a plea like that, how could the man deny me? Both his hands were on the back of my head. He began to control the speed at which I swallowed his cock. His breathing became raspier. His hips pressed upwards against me as he forced more of himself into my mouth.
"Look at me," he commanded. "I want to see your eyes when I come."
I was only too willing to oblige, thrilled by the intense way he gazed down at me—as if I was the only woman in the world to him.
He gave a final groan and erupted. The hot blast caught me in the back of the throat. I could feel his shaft buck and pulse against the roof of my mouth. Jet after jet of his cream filled me. I couldn't believe how much there was of him. I swallowed as much as I could, but I couldn't keep up with his eagerly spurting penis. Some of his cream leaked out. It dribbled down his shaft and onto my chin.
He gave a final sigh and his hands fell away from my head. His whole body relaxed. I reached around and gripped his buttocks as he began to shrink in my mouth. I continued to suck at his head, milking every last drop that I could. I polished his shaft clean, savoring the pleasant tang of his cum. My tongue snaked out to corral the creamy remains on my chin. I'd never tasted cum that was so thick and tasty. My heart, my pussy, and now my mouth belonged to Logan. He'd spoiled me for any other man.
Reaching down he pulled me to my feet and began to strip me out of my clothes. I felt so overdressed. Not only was I wearing a bathrobe, but I had on flannel pajamas, and beneath that a ridiculous pair of chunky underwear that was only one step up from granny panties. I was the embodiment of unsexiness that morning. I was relieved that he wanted to undress me so quickly. Naked at last, he slowed down again.
There was something so sweet about the way he gazed at me and stroked my face with the back of his hand as we stood there in the middle of the kitchen. He kissed me on the eyelids, on the tip of my nose, and on each of my cheeks. His palms were against my breasts, cupping me and caressing me. My nipples tightened into hard points beneath the feathery stroke of his thumbs. It wasn't long before I began to shake with an uncontrollable excitement.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you feeling cold?"
I shook my head. "I'm pretty hot right now."
"That's for damn sure," he said, and took a step back to admire me.
"How can you say that with a straight face," I said, feeling myself blush under his intense scrutiny. "I'm a total mess this morning."
"Hardly," he laughed.
Taking me by the shoulders he turned me around so I could see my reflection in the kitchen window. Suddenly I was aware of how exposed we were to the rest of the world. I prayed that the next door neighbors weren't awake yet. Logan, on the other hand, didn't seem to give a damn about who saw us in all our naked glory.
I have to confess: it gave me a thrill too. I had no idea that being an exhibitionist could turn me on as much as it did.
"I've never seen a more beautiful woman in my life," Logan said. "I can't wait to taste every inch of you." He took me by the chin and pulled my mouth to his.
I could feel the possessive urgency of his kiss as our tongues collided. All the while his hands kept moving; trailing across my shoulders, stroking my arms, caressing my hips. His mouth moved to a ticklish spot behind my ear and I giggled. Logan pushed up my hair to expose more of my neck. I stared at my reflection in the window and watched myself writhe under his touch as he kissed a sensual path down my spine.
When he got to the small of my back he gave both buttocks a tender kiss. Then he gripped my rump in his hands and began to knead and massage my flesh, spreading me apart. His mouth moved down into the valley of my crack. I gasped in surprise when I felt his lips on the puckered opening of my anus. No one had ever kissed me there before! It was such an intimate, taboo place, but I couldn't deny the incredible sensation that washed through me.
His tongue reached out to swirl around the sensitive opening while his fingers massaged my mound and teased my clit. Encouraged by the sound of my moans, I felt him plunge even deeper.
"Oh, fuck!" I cried when the first ring of my virgin muscle was penetrated. Butterflies filled my stomach. Lubrication poured from my pussy. I shuddered as he drew my cream upwards and smeared it across my anus, thoroughly coating me.
The ball of his thumb replaced his mouth. He rubbed in slow circles, easing into me a few millimeters at a time, gradually stretching my body, letting me get used to the feeling of fullness that I thought only my pussy could appreciate. Instead of clenching in resistance, the muscles of my sphincter irised open, relaxing under his seductive touch, eager to let him explore. Every time I was with Logan he seemed to find new ways to elicit pleasure from my body. I surrendered myself to his whims.
When he stood up again, I felt his cock brush against the back of my leg. To my surprise (and delight) he was hard again!
Gripping the back of my neck in his hand, he bent me forward over the kitchen sink. I braced my arms on either side of the counter. As he nudged my legs apart, the thumb that was half-buried in my ass, and the three fingers that he'd inserted into my gushing pussy, all slipped deeper.
"You feel so fucking good," he breathed into my ear as he leaned over my body. "Are you ready for me?"
I had no idea what was in store for me, and part of me was terrified. But I trusted Logan would never do anything that would make me feel uncomfortable. With him I knew only pleasure awaited.
"I'm ready," I said with a tremor in my voice.
"Good girl."
Easing forward, Logan dragged his rampant prick across my slit. I shuddered beneath him as he slowly pushed his cock deeper. Both of us cried out as I swallowed him whole.
"Every … fucking … inch," he hissed through clenched teeth.
I could feel Logan throbbing inside me, swelling the walls of my pussy. With his thumb buried inside my anus the sensation of fullness was gloriously magnified. My hips began to roll, massaging his length. It wasn't enough to have him inside me. I wanted to be taken. To be ridden hard. To be dominated.
"Fuck me, Logan," I gasped. "Fuck me."
He didn't indulge me at once. He wanted to savor this perfect moment, to prolong it for as long as he could. With agonizing slowness he did the opposite of what I requested: he withdrew again. He stopped, leaving only his bloated tip inside.
"Put it back!" I shrieked. "What are you doing? Put it back."
Logan chuckled at my desperation and taunted me with another slow insertion.
I writhed against the edge of the counter with my tits swinging beneath m
e in the sink, and my head spinning at the erotic sensations that consumed me.
For the next few minutes Logan kept up the slow pace, ignoring my whimpers.
Each time he filled me, the greedy muscles of my cunt and anus flexed possessively around his cock and thumb, trying to trap them permanently. I wanted more of him. More, more, more! I had a hungry urge to feel the hot gush of his seed in my hole.
Just when I thought I'd go mad with desperation, Logan gathered up a generous fistful of my hair in one hand, like the reins of a horse. He pumped into me at a steady pace—just enough to keep me satisfied, but not enough to hasten my orgasm.
"You like that, baby?" he growled.
"Yes! Oh, yes," I hissed. Saliva drooled from the corner of my panting mouth. "Keep doing it like that. Don't stop!"
My buttocks quivered each time our bodies collided. With each thrust, my clit rubbed against the smooth, rounded surface of the counter's edge. More of my cream poured from my pussy, drenching both of us in my nectar.
The rhythmic contractions deep inside me grew stronger and stronger. "That's so good, Logan … so fucking good. Don't stop."
"Come for me, Amber. I want to hear you come for me."
He tugged harder on my hair, forcing me to arch upwards. Our reflection in the kitchen window looked so damn sexy. Logan's hair had tumbled into his eyes. There was a ferocious intensity on his face as he pounded into me.
My pussy was on fire. The inferno spread outward through every nerve and muscle. "I'm cumming," I cried in a hoarse gasp. "I'm cumming!"
For an instant my body froze as I hovered on the precipice. Then my world came apart.
My pussy spasmed around Logan's cock. My sizzling cream gushed over him, bathing his shaft and drenching his balls. He kept thrusting into me, over and over.
My arms flailed wildly, knocking plates and glasses aside. I pressed down to grind my clit against the counter in a desperate attempt to come again. A second orgasm followed on the heels of the first, so intense that I was scarcely aware that Logan had unleashed into me at the exact same moment.
He loosened his grip on my hair and the two of us slumped forward, panting hard. He was still inside me. I could feel the final spasms of his cock as he filled me up.
"Logan," I murmured, when I finally caught my breath. "What's wrong with us?"
His voice sounded muffled and sexy against my neck. "What are you talking about? Don't you like what we're doing?"
"I love it! I just want it to be like this all the time. Why do we have to keep sneaking around?"
"You know the answer to that already. If your parents found out—"
"Yeah, I know, I know … they'd flip. I just wish our relationship didn't have to be a secret."
"But it's a secret worth keeping, don't you agree?"
I suppose I'd rather have these stolen moments with Logan than nothing at all. I knew I was greedy for wanting more. Maybe the dangerous repercussions of being caught was what gave our relationship its added spice. That didn't make me feel any less lonely when we were apart. The only bit of comfort I had was knowing that we shared a special secret between us: a forbidden relationship that no one else in the world could touch.
We made love all morning, stopping occasionally to refuel ourselves from bits and pieces of the breakfast that had gone cold on the stove. At last we climbed into the shower together; our bodies raw and exhausted. I knew I'd have a hard time walking tomorrow. Already I could feel the delicious soreness in my muscles that came from a good fucking. The pain would be a pleasant reminder of all that had passed between us.
Chapter 14
Logan and I shared a heartfelt goodbye, and I watched him from the window as he drove away. We'd cut things pretty close. Ten minutes later Ashley returned to the apartment from her extended brunch.
"So," she said, taking off her jacket and hanging it by the door, "you want to tell me why the guy from your birthday party suddenly showed up here this morning?"
"Logan? Oh, he was here to catch me up on the news from home."
Stacy let out a snorting laugh. "He gave you more than the news, girlfriend. You've got that freshly-fucked look."
"No I don't! Logan's just"—I could feel my cheeks turn pink, giving me away even before I finished telling the lie—"he's just a friend of my Dad's. Nothing more. He came over to check up on me."
"It must have been quite the check up," she said, putting her hands on her hips and eyeing me up and down. "This is the happiest I've seen you in months. You're glowing."
"I am not!"
"He's the reason you never follow up with any of the guys I send your way, isn't he?"
"Logan's a family friend. Nothing more."
"Riiiight. A friend who gives your roommate a fistful of cash and tells her not to come back for a few hours so he can"—finger quotes—"catch you up on the news from home."
"Exactly."
"And how much news did he give you, Amber? Eight inches worth?"
"Stop it!"
"Ten?"
"Okay, fine," I blurted, unable to contain my giddiness any longer. "Logan and I have been seeing each other since the summer." I couldn't believe how good it felt to get that piece of news off my chest, to finally share my romance with someone else.
"Ever since the two of you made-out at your party?"
I nodded and gave her a big, goofy grin.
She frowned. "I thought that was a one-time, truth-or-dare thing."
I shook my head.
"It's serious between you two?"
"I think so."
Stacy gave a squeal of delight. "Oh, Amber, I'm so happy for you!" She spread her arms wide and came over to embrace me. Despite the huge smile on her lips, there was a distinct lack of joy in her eyes. In fact, if I had to guess, I'd say her look was one of scarcely disguised jealousy.
You see, I wasn't the only one who had a thing for mature gentlemen. Stacy had been dating a few of her professors on the sly. But there was a considerable difference between a bearded college lecturer and a rich, Silicon Valley hottie—who also happened to be amazing in bed. I had a feeling that Stacy's current beau—Professor Lundegaard from the English department—wasn't exactly a sexual dynamo.
Stacy's hug was too hard, as if she was secretly trying to squeeze the life out of me. "Older guys are the best, aren't they?"
"They sure are," I croaked, and pulled away from her before she pythoned me to death.
"And your parents are cool with this? You know, dating a guy who's old enough to be your father?"
"What? I mean, sure. Yeah. Totally. They love him."
A flicker of disbelief crossed her face before she turned her attention to the mess in the kitchen. "I see you guys were playing house while I was away."
"Logan made me breakfast."
"He cooks, too? Impressive. Although it doesn't look like you had much time to eat."
"Sorry about the mess," I said, and went over to stack up the plates. "I'll have things tided up in a few minutes."
"Take your time, honey, no rush," Stacy said, flapping a hand at me as she headed for her bedroom. "I won't be using the kitchen for the rest of the day. I'm stuffed from that enormous brunch your boy-toy bought me."
It wasn't until I was putting the leftovers into containers that I realized the extent of the feast Logan had prepared. It was a shame there'd been no time for us to enjoy it properly. I nibbled on a piece of bacon as I loaded the dishwasher. No sooner had I swallowed when I was overcome by a wave of nausea. The food hadn't been sitting out that long, and the bacon was cooked to a crisp; so how could I have food poisoning?
I rushed to the toilet and got the lid up in the nick of time before I puked. Whoa, what brought that on? I chalked up my queasiness to nerves. It had been a thrilling morning, seeing Logan again for the first time in ages and having an erotic romp in the kitchen. I hadn't experienced this much excitement in months.
I wiped my mouth on a piece of tissue paper and flushed the toilet. As
quickly as the sick feeling came, it vanished again. I returned to the kitchen and finished the rest of the cleaning without incident. I even snacked on a few pancakes with no ill effect.
But the nausea didn't go away. Over the next few days the sick feeling came and went. It seemed I was barfing up every morning before class. The weather was getting colder, so there was little doubt in my mind that I'd picked up a late autumn virus.
That's what I get for rolling around with Logan in a poorly-heated apartment for several hours. It's a wonder I don't have full-blown pneumonia.
Then something happened that made me feel sicker than ever.
I was packing my bags, getting ready to head home for the long Thanksgiving weekend. Stacy had left the day before, so I had the whole apartment to myself for twenty-four glorious hours. Why couldn't Logan have timed his visit to see me now? We could have made love in any room and on any surface in the apartment without any fear of my roommate interrupting. I made a mental note to ask Stacy about her Christmas schedule and when she planned to return home. Perhaps I could arrange for a special tryst between me and Logan before the end of the semester.
I was so lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to have a few private days with Logan that I totally missed the message on my phone. It wasn't until a few hours later that I realized Mom had been trying to reach me. Her text read: Urgent! Call me.
My stomach leapt into my throat. My first thought was that someone had died. "Oh, no. Gran! Please don't let it be Gran!"
I dialed home, listening to it ring and ring. Where was she? Why didn't she answer? All the while I prayed that everything was okay.
I was breathless with worry when she finally picked up. "Mom, what's wrong? I just got your message."
Her voice was constricted as if she was trying hard to keep her emotions in check. "Amber, I just received some very disturbing news."
"What is it, Mom? What happened?"
"It showed up in my email a few hours ago. I don't know who sent it to me, but it's a video. A video of you and Mr. Worthington. Amber, what in God's name is going on?"