But I didn’t need to do that anymore.
I had Skylar and we had our own love story, the kind you can’t just copy and play out like actors in a movie, but the kind that develops organically and turns into something you just can’t control.
The kind that made me want to press him down into the field and just take him, then and there.
The kind that made me do it.
As I straddled Skylar’s lap, his raw denims getting extra faded from the Iowa dirt and dust and the wear and tear of the lifestyle, helping my dad and brother work the farm, I kissed him deeply, taking as much of him into my mouth as possible before I started to unbutton his cotton checked shirt that was like mine in terms of colors, a bright blue as bright as my eyes in the summer sunlight. Although the cotton was almost sheer and his tats were visible through the fabric, it was sexy as hell and it made me wish he could wear those kinds of shirts all the time in Los Angeles, but of course, he had an image to upkeep now, as a soon-to-be big time rockstar.
His shirt was large, to fit his arms and his firm pecs, so as he got up to slip it off, I started to unbutton my shirt too, but I was too slow. Skylar had tossed his shirt onto the ground and he started to help me with mine, and deftly, he unbutton my bra with one hand by slipping it under the back of my shirt, so that when I took of my shirt and bra, they came off in one fell swoop.
Skylar wanted me. As much as I wanted him. I could feel it in his pants, pressing into my shorts, which I wanted off desperately, but right now, I wanted Skylar to take control of the situation. I loved it when he did that, when he was the one who told me what he liked, what he wanted to do, because it had introduced to me a whole new world of sensual sensations that were unrivaled by anything else in my life.
Usually, Skylar would tease me, make me practically beg for his dick while making corny puns and jokes at his expense, but he had no time for that. He didn’t even have time to fully take off his pants, just slipping them down with the designer boxers I’d bought him (Designer: my choice. Plain black: his condition.), before I could finger the label: Calvin Klein? Armani?
Didn’t matter. Only one man’s name mattered to me now.
Skylar.
“Do you want to get on top or-,” I started but he interrupted me.
“Shorts off. Get this dick inside of you, and fast, Emma.”
“Or else what?” I teased, taking off my shorts anyway and revealing a pair of plain pink and white striped panties that could have been mistaken for a bikini bottom.
Skylar was in no mood for this and so he shot me a glare as he held his dick ready as if it was a stick shift and he was picking me up and I was late. “Emma, I need you. I need this release. I need to be inside of you. Please, let’s not play this game.”
“Or else what?”
“Fine,” he said, and he started to redo his pants, but not before I could get on top of him and get his dick inside of me.
“Just kidding,” I said, trying to be cool and collected by giving him a kiss on the cheek and whispering that taunt as I took his cock inside of me, but its heft made me gasp and Skylar smirked.
“On second thought...”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare, Skylar, ever. There’s some things we don’t joke about,” I said, pumping up and down on his cock, practically #twerking my hips and ass as I took him inside of me, inch by inch, even though I wanted his entire shaft inside of me, regardless of the pain it could cause if I did that. I knew that I had to savor this, that I had to take his cock gently so that I could please him, that Skylar didn’t always want the sort of rough, hard fucking we’d had before, that sometimes, he wanted something more tender.
Skylar reached up and grabbed my exposed breasts, cupping them in each hand and flicking them with the pads of his fingertips gently until they stiffened, standing ready for command. He ordered me to lean down, and I did, but he pulled me up and over him so that he could take one nipple at a time in his mouth, so it was like I was lying on top of him, supporting myself with my elbows and hands in the green grass staining our clothes, trying my hardest not to suffocate him.
Of course, I slipped.
Of course, he was able to lift me up with ease without missing a beat, without my nipple even leaving his mouth, and without crushing my beloved.
“Oh, Skylar,” I moaned in a raspy voice. It was not my sexiest voice, in my opinion, but I knew it drove Skylar wild. It was the voice I couldn’t fake convincingly if I was paid, because only Skylar could make me sound that way. Skylar, Skylar, Skylar, inside of me, underneath me, even outside of me and on top of me, was the only man that could give me the perfect mix of feelings and emotions and sensations to elicit such an illicit response from my body and my breath.
“Come for me, baby, come for me,” he commanded. I knew better than to disobey the man that always knew what was best for me, the man that could bring me the best of pleasures and take away the worst of pleasures. I was so close, but there was something missing, something I needed first and I needed from him.
“Skylar, Skylar, oh, Skylar, Skylar!” I whispered as he traced down to my sex and started to pleasure the one spot that his cock couldn’t, the way we were positioned: so that he could press down on my clit and make me want to squeal aloud with pleasure, so that I wished we were back home in our apartment in our bed making more than love, making passion.
“Emma, I’m so close, I’m holding it for you, baby.” This was so unlike him: he usually lasted longer, didn’t have to hold back, but of course, we hadn’t had sex in about a week so there was lots of pressure that had built up inside of him. It was like the pressure that was inside of me, his dick the wrench that would loosen the valves of pleasure.
“Skylar, come for me. Please,” I whispered in his ear. It wasn’t a begging tone, it was desperate and commanding but it wasn’t begging.
And he had no choice but to oblige.
He gripped onto my hips as he released, his face contorting. “Ugh, Emma!”
“S-Skylar,” I stuttered as I gasped aloud. Was it just me, or was he cumming more, hotter, harder than usual? We hadn’t had sex in almost a week and this was what happened?
That must have been it.
Because that’s what was happening to me.
I had to hold onto his arms and lean in against his pecs, gripping his shoulders as he held onto my firm, rounded ass and pulled it up and down on his sustained erection that wouldn’t be gone for at least ten to fifteen more minutes, given his usual track record, trying desperately to bring me to a second orgasm if not a third.
But he couldn’t.
Not for lack of skill, though.
He was just that good.
So good that my first orgasm wouldn’t stop. Maybe I had multiples, maybe it was one long orgasm, but the fact I couldn’t tell was a sign enough that Skylar was doing something right, and by something, I mean everything.
The warmth spread through me as if the grass was growing not from a field of dirt but a field of passion, passion I was now being exposed to and taking inside of my body as if I was Mother Gaia and the grass blades were feeding me pleasure. I had never had this sort of desperate fuck with Skylar, one out of need for pleasure rather than intimacy, and it was the kind of sex that I didn’t know if I’d want to have again, because it meant that I’d have to miss Skylar for it, and to miss Skylar would be to be without Skylar, and the fact I missed him so much and we had basically been locked at the hand all week, just not at the waist, scared the shit out of me. I had never expected to need Skylar so much, to care about him and our needs so much, and maybe Skylar was right, that I was getting more mature getting older, and becoming more and more of adult with every passing day...and night.
I wanted to call out his name louder but I knew it would call attention to us, it was bound to. This clearing was high but not that far from town and although it seemed like we were alone, that could all change with one misstep. I bit my lip as he kept fucking me from the bottom and playing with m
y nipples, making my pebbled nibs rock hard again before he sucked them to soften them, like the opposite of what would happen if I gave him oral pleasures.
As Skylar’s cum seeped out of me, I lay there with Skylar and rebuttoned my shirt. We were covered in grass and dirt and needed a shower but not before we looked up at the stars which were starting to peek out of the purple sky turning more and more indigo and then black as the minutes passed by like seconds, as they always did when I was in Skylar’s perfect, strong arms. We could make it back to the car, into a change of clothes kept in the back, and make it to the
But of course, showers didn’t just happen with us.
There were three bathrooms in my house: the one my sister and I shared, the one my brother used that was also a guest bathroom and the one Skylar had been using, and the master bath. Surprisingly, my sister and I had a really nice bathroom, with a large Jacuzzi tub my dad had bought from someone for cheap because they had accidentally received two from the company and the company let them keep the second.
Skylar and I tossed our dirty clothes into the hamper and felt very naughty about the fact we were about to do something my parents would definitely not approve of. They didn’t let us sleep in the same bedroom, so they wouldn’t be okay with us bathing together, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
After making sure my mom and dad were at the grocery store and then on the way to the football field (and telling her no, we didn’t need a ride, we had the car), Skylar and I started to run the bath and started the jets when the water level was high enough.
“Do you want to see something dorky?” I asked Skylar.
“Do I ever not want to? Let’s see it, champ,” he said.
“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I sauntered into the bedroom, still nude, and knew Skylar was watching my ass as I walked away. I still had it, we still had it, the chemistry that was way more important than just looks, that push and pull, that game of cat and mouse that had flipped back and forth so many times that we were Schrodinger’s Cat and Mouse. It was anyone’s guess who was chasing who at a given point, impossible to pinpoint now that we had this symbiotic animal magnetism.
I came back with a device I placed on the counter and I turned off the lights, turning on the device. Colored checks of light covered the room as the device hummed.
“You have a mini disco ball? That’s not just dorky, that’s tacky,” he said with a laugh as he helped me into the tub.
“Ha, well, not all of us got to grow up in LA! It was the closest I had to the nightclub experience before I went to UCBH.”
“Well, you got to grow up in Iowa. And I’d have traded places with you any day of the week.”
“Isn’t it weird how things turn out?”
“It’s not just weird, it’s amazing. It’s great. If you hadn’t been born in this state, maybe you would have never wanted to go to California to begin with. Maybe you would have never met me. What if I’d moved out to the East Coast, to music school, like I’d dreamed of? I would have never met you. Everything ended up working out perfectly and that doesn’t happen...for everyone.” I knew who he was thinking of: Sandra. I knew now that it wasn’t that he’d loved her more than he loved me, but that he’d lost her, the way he’d almost lost me, but for real. There wasn’t a way to get someone back from the dead, there wasn’t a way to save them after they were that far gone.
Skylar reached and turned on his phone which was in his pants.
I heard the familiar refrain I hadn’t forgotten since I first heard his band play live.
“I see you dancing on tables like an RPG,
Last thing I’d believe is that you’d lock eyes with me,
But sometimes my heart won’t let me breathe,
But nightclub girl, you can’t come with me”
I knew that everything had changed so much in the past year, that we’d overcome so much together. I knew it couldn’t last forever, but there was a way to keep what we had alive for as long as possible.
I leaned in and held Skylar, scrubbing his back with my pink loofa that I’d pressed some of my Philosophy soap into, the sugar cookie scented stuff that was for bath bubbles but okay for skin and hair too, and then I made my way up to Skylar’s head, rubbing the gooey stuff in until it foamed. Skylar laughed, and reached up to get some of the gel to rub into my hair and we washed each other back and forth as the jets went off, making it foam further, to the point that it almost covered us entirely. As I reached down to turn the jets lower, I didn’t find the dial.
I found Skylar’s cock.
My soapy, wet hands enveloped it and pushed it up, to where I could see it. This was the cock I’d wanted for so long, the cock that I’d worked so hard to get before, that I could have now any time I want: in our apartment, in the meadow, and hear, in the house I grew up in as a child.
I lowered my mouth onto it and gagged. The body wash stuff smelled good but it didn’t taste good.
“Are you alright, babe?” he asked, pulling me close to him and turning me around so that I was hovering over his lap. “You don’t have to do that for me, you know.” He reached around and found my sex, taking the loofa in one hand and scrubbing me with it down there, gently, before turning the jets higher and repositioning me so that they hit me right over my clit.
The water rubbed over me and I leaned back, holding onto Skylar for support in the slippery tub as I cried out his name: “Skylar, Skylar, Skylar.”
“Are you ready, baby?” he asked. He only ever called me baby when he fucked me, when he fucked me this way, to show me that he’d always be my man and I’d be his baby, that even though he’d taught me to be strong, it was okay to be vulnerable, to be at his mercy, to be bent to his will and made into something else entirely: his personal sex slave, his servant of passion, his lover, and other times, into a goddess of lust, into a full-fledged woman. This back and forth we had was intoxicating but not toxic, not this time.
“I am,” I said as I leaned back again. I needed him inside of me but right now, I couldn’t control the lower half of my body, the half that needed pleasure more than intimacy, the part that needed Skylar’s dick rather than his heart.
It was during that lean that he slipped it in: Poseidon’s trident, Apollo’s golden arrow, into my entrance. It was like an axe that turned me into a thousand splinters that reassembled themselves back into Emma but then back to splinters, then back to Emma. And then just staying as Emma.
Skylar kept rubbing my body and my hair with the shower gel and poof. He used the shower head attachment in the tub to wash me clean of soap before covering me in suds again, rubbing them all over me and making them into whorls of white, and in that moment, we were the same, both covered in soap, his tattooed skin hidden under the water and my skin hidden in the dark, lit only by that cheesy disco ball light, still shooting rays into the room which was better than any VIP area at Club Grit because I was there with Skylar.
What I didn’t expect was for Skylar to take the shower head under the water, because it was like a handheld set of jets he knew he could use to bring me closer to the edge than he had in this entire extremely sensual experience, that had been full of rubs rather than thrusts, whether by necessity given the size of the tub and the bathroom or out of a need for intimacy.
But right now? With that jet under the water, pumping at its highest setting? Skylar was going to bring me to Orgasm Cliff and get ready to push me off the image, sending me into free fall with no parachute, no bungee cord, just the two of us holding hands as we entered the nether...of our nether regions.
“Skylar, oh, Skylar!” I shouted out, so glad that nobody else was home to hear me scream his name to high heavens, to hear me enjoy his dick in my pussy more than I enjoyed anything else, to be forced to accept fact that I was greedy for his cock and only it could satisfy me.
“Emma, ah,” he groaned, and he bit me on the shoulder to shut himself up. It made me gasp, bucking backwards, as I had another org
asm.
The way my pussy pumped on his cock, the fleshy folds taking in his shaft, both velvet soft and iron hard at the same time, was enough to bring Skylar to his second climax of the night, and this time, he’d lasted much longer, not bound to climax according to his body’s will now that the pressure had been released beforehand.
Skylar’s semen shot up into me and warmed my insides the way the bath had warmed my outsides, and I screamed out his name again. He held onto me so that my hips couldn’t buck me off of his lap, so that I would be locked to him for as long as he was able to sustain his hardness, so that I would be his and his alone in that moment, in that slice of time we could call our own.
As we got up and I pulled off of Skylar’s now softening member, I felt Skylar’s spunk slip out of me and into the draining water. I saw as the silvery white globules of cum floated in the bathtub like a mermaid’s lost pearl necklace. I wanted to be dirty, to take them and rub them all over my body so Skylar would have to clean me off again, but I knew that I had to let this chapter come to a close.
As much as I personally loved Skylar’s love juice, my dad would kill me (if he didn’t die first) if he saw that in the tub. I had to make sure to clean the tub before it was used again, but I’d do it that night. Right now, I had to get changed and get to the high school.
I checked my phone and saw that it was already a quarter to ten.
“Skylar, hurry up,” I called, and he scrambled in while stuffing something (his phone? keys?) into his pocket.
Fuck. We were going to be late. Skylar and I quickly changed into outfits close enough to the ones we had on before that we were sure my parents wouldn’t notice that we’d changed, and if they did, we’d just say that we’d gotten messy at the festival. I didn’t want to give my dad a heart attack.
We hauled ass to the high school’s football field, where we were supposed to be an hour ago to meet up with my parents who were going to stake out the best spot for us, with cushions, stadium blankets, and a cooler full of goodies. My whole family was there: my mom, my dad, my older siblings and their kids. As usual, the lady that worked in town hall and directed the town musicals led the town in the national anthem before the first sparks shot into the air. As usual, my mom tried to drink as much as my dad who stopped so that she wouldn’t make herself sick this year as she did every year, the only time of the year where she basically drowned her liver although as a petite woman competing with my bear of a dad, it was a futile effort.
Pulse (Contemporary new adult/college romance) (Club Grit Trilogy) Page 17