His hand drops from my face and disappears under the water. I feel it again at the edge of my panties, before he slips his fingertips underneath them. My breathing becomes rampant, loud, my nerves sending out warning signs and consuming my body as his fingers touch me somewhere I've never been touched by someone else. It's a foreign feeling, but I like it. I continue to kiss him, trying to sway my mind and nerves, shutting them out. I can feel my body shaking, but I’m hoping he doesn’t notice. I want this. I will not quit because of fear.
When I don't stop him he continues, rubbing his finger over my entrance. His chest expands as he does, confirming it must be a good thing when he slips his finger inside. My mind, body, and soul quickly becomes enraptured for the first time in my entire life, not able to think about anything but the feeling of his finger inside of me. As he pushes inside of me, my fingers claw into his neck.
As quickly as it started he stops and places my panties back in place, then removes his mouth from mine. "I can't do this. Fuck."
"I want you to. It's okay."
"No. Kambry, I can't. You don't understand." I look at him. He actually looks like he's harboring guilt.
"Why? Are you gay?"
Silence.
"What?"
His tone sounds angry.
"Are you gay? Is that why? You said I don't understand. I'm trying to. It's okay to tell me. I would never judge you."
He glares at me, but doesn't release me. Instead, he grabs my hand and places it on his... My eyes widen as he clamps my hand around it, but my fingers don't meet on the other side. "Does this fucking feel gay to you?" His voice is low, but harsh. "Are you fucking serious? If I were gay you wouldn't make me hard, Kambry. I don't think your pussy is loose enough for me to get two fingers in."
He strokes my hand down the length of his dick...in its entirety. "Do you really think that's going to go in without hurting you, or possibly hurting me? Fuck that. I figured you weren't as wild as the girls I'm used to, but I didn't think you were that good, and I really don't know how good that is. You work in a nightclub – a place primarily for quick lays and one-night stands. It's normal to make assumptions."
My breathing quickens. I unwrap my legs, but he grabs on to me. I push him back as I kick my legs underwater to stay afloat, unable to touch the bottom from the spot I’m in. I’m also drunk. "Screw you. Since when did guys you meet in the before mentioned nightclub care? You don't know anything about me. You're the one that suggested we hang out in case you have forgotten. I went along with it. I even gave you a green light to have a little fun, and instead of passing go you sat there, acting like every other douche bag. Go pretend to be a man with someone else. I'm over it."
I start to swim past him but he grabs the back band of my bra in his fist, pulling me back and turning me around. He continues walking in the direction I was swimming, holding on to me until I can touch bottom. "A man, huh?" He grits out the question between his clenched teeth. "The only pretending I do is when the camera is recording, and even then it's only fifty percent fake. You want me to distinguish between a man from a douche bag for you, then I'll be happy to give you what you want, but even as fucked up as my sex life is I still have limits."
I'm not sure what exactly any of that means, but I don't really care when all I can think about is my bra straps separating at my back as he walks me further into the shallow end. His fingers grab ahold of the straps lying on my shoulders and he pulls them down my arms, baring my upper half.
A mild remembrance that we are in a public pool at a pretty big apartment complex crosses my mind, causing me to cover myself as my bra falls from my body, exposing me. I look around, but see no one. At least the pool is in a private area, enclosed inside of a fence, somewhat away from the apartment buildings, but every resident has a gate key.
He grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from my boobs, his eyes immediately diverting as he does. "Fuck, you've got a beautiful rack."
My heels meet the first step, causing me to slightly stumble, but he doesn't let me fall. I climb the steps backwards until I reach the third step from the top. "Sit down," he demands, no longer being playful or flirty. Oddly, I kind of like it. I do as he says, sitting in just enough water to keep my lower half somewhat hidden by the rest of the pool wall beside the steps.
He stands on his knees, straddled over my fully straightened legs, then cups my breast in his hand and lightly shakes it, letting it jiggle as it spills over. The second he stops he squeezes, pretty hard. "And they're fucking real? Damn. They're so big for your frame size. Fuck." I watch him as he stares at it in his hand, now rubbing his thumb back and forth over my nipple, hardening it more than it already was.
He leans in, placing his mouth over the center, the tip of his tongue immediately making contact with my nipple, lightly flicking over it. My back arches, altering me into a somewhat lying position across the steps as the back of my head touches against the cement. The step edge pressing into my back isn’t comfortable, but am I going to chance saying anything that could possibly make him stop doing that? Uh…no. I moan, unable to help it, immediately biting my tongue to stop.
He licks horizontally across my body to the other side, doing the same to my other nipple, keeping the opposite side in his hand as if he doesn't want to let go. My hand rises above me and I grab onto the metal rail in the center of the wide steps, as his lips trace down the vertical curve of my body.
His hand fists the side of my underwear at the moment his lips reach my pelvis, pulling them down my hips. I lift, allowing him to work them over my butt; what little fabric there is to them. No panty line is imperative when I have guys staring at my ass all night. Thongs are the only panties I wear to work.
He pulls them down to my thighs, before altering his position to remove them completely, and then drops them in the water. His hand becomes flush with the back of my knee and he pulls my leg to the side. When he doesn't immediately touch me, I lift my head and nervously look down. He's staring between my legs, making me self-conscious, even under the influence of alcohol. "What is it?"
"You have one beautiful pussy."
Without another word he spreads my legs and bends over between them, before he places his tongue over my opening and swipes it up the center. My body does a roll and I scream out, not expecting it, and then slap my hand over my mouth. That felt so good, but I don't even have time to let it fully register when his tongue starts pressing firmly against my clit, roughly rubbing it back and forth. "Oh...shit..."
My legs start to close together, but he blocks them with his hands, pushing them wider than they were before. The sensations are too much to bear. I've given myself orgasms on a few occasions after my parents went to bed, usually on nights that Kyle and I had heated make-out sessions, but none of those times ever came close to feeling like this, and I always felt dirty afterwards for doing it because of the way my parents are.
He thrusts his finger inside of me, amplifying the sensation. My breathing is out of control. He grips my hip with his other hand, slowly migrating it up my body, until he reaches my breast. He pinches my nipple between his fingers and the three-in-one points of pleasure are driving me mad.
I use the rail and pull up my head enough to look at him, watching his tongue moving against my body. This is kind of a sexy view. As if he can sense me staring at him, he looks at me from beneath his lashes, never letting up on any of the three places. "I can't take that much. It's too much," I say breathless.
That only motivates him to increase his speed. My head falls back and my hand grips into his thick, blonde hair and pulls, trying to focus on something, anything besides the pleasure he’s creating. He hooks his finger when he thrusts inside and I fail miserably, bringing my hand to my mouth and biting the side of it to keep from screaming again. An overwhelming sensation starts to build within my body, my lower area throbbing.
My eyes close and I moan against my hand as an all-consuming pleasure begins, making real time slow down. My mind g
oes completely blank and my toes curl. My body numbs. My pulse is pounding. The wave falls and starts to subside slowly, until the feeling is completely gone, leaving me in a state that I would imagine is similar to a drug high - completely relaxed and a little energized.
The movement of his tongue becomes slower. I giggle as it changes from feeling good to a sensitive tickle, pulling him by the hair. "Stop. Please stop."
He does. I move my arms to the step and prop myself up as he removes his tongue from my body. He leans back, slides his finger out slowly, and then leans toward me, before he places his hands palm down on the step and pushes himself up like he's doing a pushup on an incline. Our faces are mirrored at level height. The expression on his face is blank. I'm not sure what to make of it.
This would probably be extremely awkward for me right now if I didn't still have a buzz, knowing I just let a guy I don't even know go down on me in a public pool where any resident has access. That's also the beauty of it. That's most likely another reason I feel so high right now, completely free to do whatever the hell I want and not having to worry about it getting back around to my parents. What I just did would probably land me a front seat ride to the counselor or preacher at church, or even an appointment with the confessional for a confession and prayer of forgiveness, and we aren't even Catholic.
"Kambry..."
"Yes?"
"Please tell me you've had sex before." His eyes change. "Please," he repeats in a pleading whisper.
I blink, unsure of how to respond. I should just lie. What would it even hurt? He probably would never know the difference in virgin and not virgin with minor experience. "No," I blurt out before my thought even finishes developing. His eyes close. "Has anyone ever done those things to you?"
I'm starting to panic a little. Why would these even be questions he would ask? It cannot be noticeable. I don't know what to say. Do I lie, tell the truth, or plead the fifth? He opens his eyes again. One look into them and I know I can't lie. I don't even know why, but I want to tell him the truth. "No."
"Fuck. You kiss like you know what you're doing." He starts to pull away from me. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm probably going to Hell."
I sit up and grab his sides, anxiously stopping him. I might as well get this out while I'm intoxicated and uninhibited. "But it's not because I didn't want to. I need to clarify before you jump to any conclusions of it being a righteous decision. I dated the same guy from the time I was allowed to have a boyfriend, and that's not saying much since we didn’t really get to traditionally date much. We kissed, groped, he asked and tried, but even if I would have been brave enough to say yes, we didn't have much of an opportunity anyway. I've wanted to for years, time and time again, but I didn't for reasons that have nothing to do with me. It's complicated, Saxton; my entire life has been."
He's still staring at me with no expression. "Please don't get all awkward now. I did this because I wanted to. This is what I needed, and now I want more. I don't want to do this with the right person, but a willing person that I'm attracted to, because I'm sure I'll suck at it for a while. I want to do this to break the curse, to finally do what I want with no restrictions and no one watching my every move. I'm completely fine with nothing more than a hookup. This isn't the kind of thing I want people to know, but since you do we could use it to both of our advantage, right? I solemnly swear I want nothing more from you. I just want your dick, pun intended."
I laugh at my own joke, attempting to break the ice of this suddenly awkward situation. He stands and I notice his extremely noticeable hard-on. He attempts to adjust it, but it doesn’t do much. He then holds out his hand for me to take. "I should say fuck no, walk you to your apartment to say goodnight, and then leave, never to see you again, but the reality is I want more than that too. My reasoning is just probably a little more fucked up than yours, but before I answer that question you will know what you're getting into, who you are offering your virginity to, and there will be stipulations that are beyond my control; part of who I am, but it won't be tonight for reasons I'm not allowed to explain prematurely. Tonight, though, I'm going to take you to your room and lay with you until you go to sleep, then I'll be on my way. The rest I'll leave to happen at will. Come on, beautiful. Cover your body."
I take his hand and stand, allowing him to make the plans for the rest of the night, or morning in this case. Now, more so than before, I want to ask questions, but I will refrain...for now.
I walk in her room after I leave my wet, balled up briefs on the small entryway table to pick up on my way out. I glance around at the bare room. From the looks of it she's still living out of suitcases. It's been a long time since I've seen a set of mattresses lying on the floor. The plastic storage drawer is the only form of furniture in the room, serving as a nightstand, most likely from a local Wal-Mart or Target. This whole visual just seems off.
I want to ask more questions, but I keep them to myself until I can gather my thoughts. I don't really think now is the right time when they're still scattered. I have to squat to sit on the low makeshift bed as I watch her change into a tank and pair of short shorts that shows off her petite but curvy backside.
She turns around to face me when her breasts are covered, rolling the gray cotton down her stomach. "Come here," I command, already realizing I've fucked myself. I shouldn't have come back to find her. I should have just taken the job with no stipulations and do what I do best: fuck and act. I cannot believe I'm even intrigued by this idea, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't; although I do have limits that I'll talk over with Michael before I go any further with this project.
She walks between my legs and drops to her knees. I place my hands on her waist, attempting to pull her closer. Her hands move to her thighs as she sits on her heels and looks at me, the wavy ends of her blonde, wet hair hanging over her shoulders. "Sit on my lap."
I hold her in place and scoot back a little, pulling my legs together to give her room on the bed. "Okay," she says and stands on her knees, before climbing on top of me, positioning her legs to each side of me, and then lowers herself down on my lap.
"If I ask you something will you be honest with me?"
"Okay," she responds.
"If you waited this long, then why do you want it now?"
"I didn't wait this long by choice. I told you that. I just want my freedom."
"Why do you work in a nightclub?"
"Because it's good money that also contributes to me being able to live here." She shrugs her shoulders. "It's just a job like anything else."
"I have a feeling that thought will change, but I'll go with it for now. Are you running?"
"From what?"
"Home."
"I guess that depends on your definition of running."
"Why did you move here?"
"To leave a life behind that I didn't want; that wasn't mine. I just finally realized it was better to be happy in solitude than in misery with company. It's pretty simple really. I didn't have a bad childhood, I wasn't abused, and I’ve never been wronged or harmed in a way that would classify me as broken. I have loving – in a weird way – parents and awesome friends. I was just tired of being who they wanted me to be. I was tired of being left behind out of fear to stand up for myself. It's not really a secret where I'm from. My parents are very conservative people. When I say conservative I'm being mild. Seeing the outside of my house or school was a luxury."
My conscience is suddenly digging itself out of the grave I buried it in when I chose this life. I don't like it...at all. I want to laugh that I'm even having this conversation. My subconscious has lost its fucking mind. The age difference alone should send my ass back home, but it only intrigues me more. I haven't even really evaluated the fact that my dick has suddenly decided to work without a synthetic drug forcing it to, not once, but several times. I'm becoming more fucked up the older I get. "Don't you want to do it with someone you're in a mutual relationship with? Don't you want it to be...special?"
&nb
sp; She presses into my lap further, and then starts rubbing her middle along my semi-hard dick, hardening it even more. I can feel the heat emitted by the friction, even wearing denim. "No. That's not what I want at all. I have my entire life to settle down and be with one person, and it’s likely they will have had short flings or quick hookups. Right now, I want to just have fun, but it's a little embarrassing to be an almost nineteen-year-old virgin. It’s really no different than being a forty-year-old virgin. The older you get the harder and more awkward it becomes to just do it."
I close my eyes, trying to drown out those hypnotic eyes as she grinds herself on my cock, making rational thought more difficult. "Will you regret it?"
"No. I promise. Please, Saxton. I don't want to have to be in this awkward situation again with someone else. You kind of forced yourself here. You opened up the door for this conversation, so now we deal with it."
My eyes snap open. She found my trigger. My hand fists in her hair at the back of her head, holding her as I turn us over, laying her on the bed. She wraps her legs around my waist. I thrust myself against her, pressing my hard cock between her legs as I kiss her roughly. I can't do soft after hearing her beg me, taking me back to a time when I used to hear it often.
That's one reason I stuck with porn once I ventured down that path. I only have expectations of physical performance that is premeditated by outside parties. Emotional shit is left out of the equation... What I'm running from.
She grabs the bottom of my shirt and starts to pull it up my body. I break the kiss, realizing conditions aren't ideal...not that the others are, but I have obligations. "Stop, Kambry."
Her eyes widen as if she's in shock. I place my hand just above the back of her knee and rub it up the length of her thigh, underneath her shorts, to her ass. "I have to. I don't want to. You need to realize what you're getting into if you want this...with me. I’m not a normal guy. Do you remember what I said earlier?"
Sex Sessions: Uncut (Camera Tales #1) Page 6