by Lauren Rowe
Hannah giggles, apparently in on the joke.
“Awesome,” Dax says. He looks at Keane. “Hey, Peen Star, you cool with heading over to Henn’s place after you three are done here?”
“You bet, Rock Star,” Keane answers smoothly. “We’ll just Uber it. Go ahead.”
“Cool. I’ll text you the address,” Henn says.
“Thanks.”
“Bye, sissy,” Hannah says, getting up from her stool. She wraps me into a warm hug and nuzzles her mouth against my ear. “I’ll stay at Henn’s tonight so you and Magic Mike can have the apartment to yourselves,” she whispers.
I stiffen in Hannah’s arms. “How’d you know?” I whisper back.
“Oh, Maddy, it’s written all over your face.”
My stomach clenches. “Don’t tell anyone, not even Henn,” I whisper softly, my lips pressed into Hannah’s hair. “Long story but no one can know. I’ll tell you later.”
“Roger,” she whispers.
“Rabbit,” I reply.
Hannah giggles. “You’ve got your brand new key, roomie?”
I nod. “Thanks, Banana.”
Hannah pulls out of our hug. “Have fun hanging out with the strippers, guys,” she says at full voice.
“Thanks,” Keane, Zander, and I say in unison.
The minute everyone’s gone, Keane turns to Zander. “Thanks, wingman. Now go away.”
“What?” Zander asks, clearly surprised.
“You’re on your own tonight, Z. I just needed to throw Daxy off my scent—he was looking hella suspicious.”
Zander laughs. “Oh, Peenie. You’re so predictable.”
“I like to think of myself as consistent.”
“What the heck?” I say, heat rising in my cheeks. “I thought this friends-with-benefits thing was supposed to be a gigantic secret?”
“Well, yeah, it is—but I tell Z everything. He doesn’t count.”
“Oh, well, then, I guess I should mention my sister just figured us out. Apparently, she took one look at the expression of unbridled lust on my face and said she’ll sleep at Henn’s tonight to give us complete privacy.” I snicker. “She asked if I have this.” I hold up my apartment key, my eyebrow raised suggestively.
“Excellent,” Keane says, his naughty facial expression surely mirroring mine.
I look at Zander. “Which means there’s an open bed for you in Hannah’s room, Z. No couch-sleeping required tonight.”
“Thanks, Maddy. Much appreciated.”
“But don’t be running back to Maddy’s apartment to crash any time soon,” Keane warns sharply. “Maddy and I are popping the cork on this bottle for the first time tonight and I’m betting this girl’s a screamer.”
I gasp. “Keane.”
“Get used to it, Maddy,” Zander says, laughing. “The boy’s got zero filter.” He scowls at Keane. “But, shit, Peenie. What the fuck am I gonna do for hours by myself? I come all the way down to L.A. to support you and now that you’ve made me your alibi, I can’t go to Henn’s party.”
“Oh, waah waah,” Keane says. “You’re in fucking Hollywood, Z. Go wander down Hollywood Boulevard and chat with the hookers. Go see a band on The Strip. Or, fuck it, sit in a dark corner of a club and have phone sex with Daphne while watching hot women dance. I don’t give a shit what you do, just don’t come back to the apartment before the break of dawn.”
Zander exhales with frustration. “Shit, I knew I shoulda brought Daphne to L.A. with me,” he grumbles.
“For fuck’s sake, Z, quit your bitchin’,” Keane barks. “Have I ever asked you to be my wingman before?”
“No,” Zander concedes.
“Not once. And I’ve been yours a thousand times. Well guess what, brah?” Keane points emphatically to his blue hair, his eyes blazing. “Paybacks are a fucking bitch.”
Chapter 40
Maddy
Friday 11:52 p.m.
After a quick detour to the all-night drugstore down the street to stock up on necessary supplies—condoms (self-explanatory), lube (because, according to Keane, “everything feels better with lube, baby doll,”), plus a crap-ton of snacks and beer (because, per Keane, “we’re gonna need to fuel up at least twice during our marathon sesh”)—Keane and I are finally—finally—barreling through the front door of my sister’s apartment, both of us grunting like gorillas as we kiss and grope each other and tumble through the living room. Once we’ve crossed the threshold into my bedroom and I’ve closed the door behind us, I turn around to discover Keane’s already naked as the day he was born, just that fast, his hard-on straining like a rocket awaiting final countdown.
“Wow,” I breathe, looking at Keane’s insane body in the moonlight.
“I wanna fuck you so fucking bad,” Keane says, his voice dripping with arousal, his erection massive.
I motion to his dick, my entire body tingling with excitement. “I can see that.”
Keane grabs his balls, his eyes smoldering. “You make my balls hurt so fucking bad, baby doll. Do you have any idea what you do to me? Oh my God. You’re a monster.”
I bite my lip. “Gosh, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Keane says, embracing me and kissing my neck. “Hey, how ’bout some tune-age for the festivities? The Talented Mr. Ripley loves music.”
“I actually made a playlist this morning in the car,” I breathe, my knees buckling with anticipation. “All the songs that remind me of our road trip.”
“Well, cue that fucker up. It’s bonin’ time, baby.” He reaches around me and squeezes my ass. “Oh, God, this is gonna be good.”
I scramble to my laptop on the dresser, wobbling on my rubbery knees as I move, and quickly cue the music.
At the first notes of my selected kick-off song—“Trip Switch,” of course—Keane’s face bursts into flames, and before I’ve even taken two steps away from my computer, he raises my arms above my head, rips my shirt off, and makes quick work of unclasping my bra.
“Perfect,” he breathes when my naked breasts bounce free of their bondage. He bends down and takes my left nipple into his wet mouth, growling with desire, and my knees buckle underneath me. I touch his head, steadying myself, and then rake my fingertips through his tousled hair.
Keane unzips my jeans and lowers them to the floor. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he whispers. He falls to his knees before me and begins licking and nipping at the crotch of my hot pink underwear for a moment, teasing me, torturing me, making me whimper with anticipation, until, finally, blessedly, he lowers my underpants to the floor with his teeth.
“Son of a beach ball,” I murmur when my knees buckle with desire, making him laugh.
When he straightens up and assesses my naked body, his face is on fire. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, looking up at me from his knees. “Do you know that?”
I don’t know if I should nod or shake my head in reply to that question, so I do neither. “I want you so much,” I whisper.
Keane smiles. “Back at ya, baby.” With that, he licks his lips, leans into my naked crotch, and devours the living fuck outta me.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, my body on fire. I reach behind me and grasp the dresser at my back to steady myself. Oh, sweet Jesus, my entire body is already warping with pleasure.
Keane lets out a sound that makes it clear he’s enjoying the meal he’s enthusiastically eating between my legs, and I spread my legs wider, making it as easy for him as possible to devour every inch of me. When a body-clenching pressure begins building inside my abdomen, I grab a fistful of Keane’s hair and yank roughly, desperate for my release.
Keane moans between my legs, and the sound of his arousal sends goose bumps up my spine.
“You taste so good,” Keane growls from between my legs, his fingers sliding in and out of my wetness as he eats me. “You’re delicious.”
Oh my God, no one’s ever touched and licked and sucked me the way Keane’s doing, not to mention doing all of it while whisper
ing to me that I’m “delicious.” I’ve never been so turned on, so deliriously high on arousal in all my life.
Keane nips at my clit, skimming it with his teeth, and it spasms violently in response.
“That’s it,” Keane growls. “Come on, sweetheart.” He ramps up the motion of his fingers inside me. “Come to papa.” He slides his wet fingertip from my crotch straight into my ass crack and presses it firmly against my anus—a move that tells me he thinks the finish line is coming any minute now.
Knowing Keane’s poised and ready to feel an orgasm ripple through me instantly becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. In a torrent of outrageous pleasure, my clit and everything connected to it clenches and releases forcefully, prompting me to grip Keane’s head with white knuckles and shove myself fervently into his hungry mouth.
“That’s right, baby,” Keane coos. “Oh, God. Nice one.”
When my climax ends, I open my mouth to beg Keane to “make love to me,” the only words I’ve ever used in moments such as this in the past, but, immediately, I stop myself. Obviously, those words are completely wrong for a no-strings fling with a baby-dolling stripper-man.
“Fuck me, Keane,” I grit out, yanking on his hair, my pelvis thrusting and writhing with my desire. “Bone the fuck outta me.”
Keane growls his approval as he comes to a stand. “Patience, sweetheart. First things first.” He kisses me deeply and leads me to the bed, just as the next song on my playlist—“Like Real People Do” by Hozier—randomly starts playing.
Keane lays me down on my back and climbs on top of me, his erection spearing me just to the side of my wet entrance. Perhaps inspired by the lyrics of the beautiful song, Keane begins kissing me passionately, stroking gently between my legs, and quickly sending me into a desire-induced stupor. Oh my God. If there’s a greater pleasure in the world than this sensuous touching and kissing I’m experiencing right this very moment, then—
Oh.
Shit.
Scratch that.
There’s definitely a greater pleasure than the kissing and gentle touching from two seconds ago—it’s the way Keane’s touching me right this freaking second.
Keane’s fingers are deep, deeeeeeep inside me and he’s touching me in a way I’ve most definitely never experienced before. Holy hell, whatever he’s doing is freakin’ amazing. He’s swiping at some specific spot deep inside me like a tiny windshield wiper, over and over, kissing me as he does. His strokes are firm and confident. His tongue in my mouth is confident but not overbearing. Ooph, this feels good.
“You’re so fucking hot, Maddy,” Keane says into my ear, his fingers working me. He nuzzles his nose into my hair and inhales deeply. “You’re sexy as hell, baby. Your pussy is getting so wet for me.”
Jesus Christ. This feels good. What the hell is he doing to me?
I reach down and stroke Keane’s hard-on with fervor, sucking on his lower lip as I do, bucking underneath him with my rampant desire, and he shudders with excitement.
The song switches to the rocking “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet just as my body hits some sort of overload. Oh, Jesus. I’m gonna come.
I increase the speed on the hand job I’m giving him, writhing like a madwoman, spreading my legs desperately, aching to relieve the insane pressure building so pleasurably inside me. When a bead of sticky wetness oozes from the tip of Keane’s penis onto my hand, I moan with excitement.
“Oh shit,” Keane chokes out. “You gotta stop that. Fuck, I’m gonna lose it. Stop.”
I stop, though every fiber of my body craves sending him over the edge.
Keane’s fingers are still going. He leans over and kisses my breast, swirling his wet tongue over my nipple.
Oh my... hell. I’m so aroused I can’t breathe.
All of a sudden, there’s a slushing sound coming from deep inside me... wait, what the hell is that sound? It’s the exact noise someone would make if they were sloshing across the floor in rain-filled rubber boots.
“There you go, baby,” Keane says, his eyes blazing. “Can you feel how wet you are now?”
Oh my God. What’s he doing to me?
“Ever been this wet before?” Keane asks.
“No,” I choke out. “What’s happening to me?”
“You’re gonna come in a whole new way,” Keane growls, his fingers still strumming that same precise spot inside me. “Hardest you’ve ever come. You feel it coming?”
I whimper and nod, on the verge of shrieking like a madwoman.
“You feel tight inside? Like you’re gonna rip apart?”
I can’t reply. I shriek and moan again.
“Let it go, baby,” he coos. “Think about nothing but how good this feels,” Keane commands, sucking on my nipple. “Let your body go for me. Sit and submit, baby doll. Do as I say.”
I growl, trying to hold back what feels like impending insanity. “Yes,” I breathe. “Oh, God. Yes.”
“Grab my cock again. Feel how hard and wet I am for you. How much I wanna fuck you.”
I grab his erection and stroke him furiously, my arousal turning into an acute ache.
“You feel how hard I am for you?”
“Yes,” I grunt out, my back arching.
“That’s for you. ’Cause you turn me on so fucking much.”
I can’t take it anymore. Without meaning to do it, I let out a guttural wail.
“That’s it. You’re gonna come harder than you ever have,” he whispers. “A whole new way. Gonna change your life. Feel my hard cock. Feel how much I want you. Imagine me fucking you with it, in and out, making you feel so fucking good.”
“Keane,” I gasp.
That slushing sound is getting embarrassing, but I can’t control it. I’m beginning to convulse. Oh, God, my core is doubling over upon itself, coiling, ratcheting, folding like a defective deck chair possessed by demons. I hold my breath, instinctively bracing for the tidal wave that’s surely about to slam into me and rock my world.
Without warning, a fingertip glides with ease up my anus, as that same magical hand continues its steady swiping movement deep inside me, and it’s like he’s tripped a switch I didn’t even know I had.
I scream and let go of Keane’s erection, suddenly unable to control my limbs. Out of nowhere, I’m wracked with the most violently pleasurable orgasm of my life—a full-bodied seizure emanating from a place so deep inside me, it feels like it’s ripping me in two.
Without meaning to do it, I begin thrashing wildly next to Keane, overcome by the agony of the pleasure I’m experiencing. I slam my palms down on the mattress, arch my back, and grip the bedspread with white knuckles. I feel my eyes rolling back into my head, but I can’t stop them. “Keeeeeeeeeeane!” I scream, my entire body quaking.
“That’s it,” Keane purrs into my ear, his voice low and intense, his wet hard-on sliding against my skin. “Your nipples look amazing, baby. Ooph, you’re hot as fuck. I can’t wait to fuck this wet pussy and feel you from the inside-out.”
“Oh, shit,” I cry out at top volume. “Yes!” I shriek. “Keane!”
Oh, Jesus God. I’m flopping like a dying fish, bucking and convulsing without control. Gibberish is spewing out of my mouth.
“That’s it, baby,” Keane says calmly. “You’re speaking in tongues, baby.”
When my body finally stops shuddering and my limbs are my own again, I wipe at my eyes, gasping for air, and I’m shocked to feel wetness streaming down my cheeks. Oh Mylanta. Keane made me come so freaking hard I cried?
“Keane,” I whisper, my body splayed on the bed in a mangled heap. “Thank you.”
Keane kisses me tenderly, pressing the full length of his glorious body against mine, molding my soft curves into his body’s hardness. “Did that feel good?”
I nod, unable to speak.
Keane bites my earlobe. “Welcome to the big leagues, sweetheart,” he whispers, his erection grinding against me insistently. “You’re A-spot cherry’s officially been popped.”
“Fuck me,” I gasp, clutching at him desperately.
“Oh, God, that’s all I wanna do,” he groans. “But not yet.” He exhales a shaky breath. “I’m gonna give you a night to remember, sweetheart.”
“Keane, no. There’s no way I can—”
He slides his fingers inside me again and I immediately stop talking.
Oh.
That feels amazing.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but Keane’s working his unbelievable magic on me again—and this time my body’s ramping up twice as fast as before.
Wow.
Somehow, I’m not ultra sensitive like I usually am after an orgasm. I’m only ready and aching for more.
Approximately four minutes later, I’d guess, I’m shrieking at the top of my lungs again as my body convulses with an even more forceful orgasm than the one before.
“How the hell are you doing this to me?” I choke out when the waves of pleasure have subsided and I’m left twitching on the mattress like a fish on a riverbank.
Keane brushes a lock of sweaty hair off my cheek. “It’s The Sure Thing, baby doll. I told you. Works like a charm.”
“But what the hell are you doing up in there? Show me.”
Keane puts his hand in front of my face and moves his middle finger in a steady and simple “come hither” motion.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah—but, you know, I’m doing it right. I’m touching the exact spot and I’m using the right amount of pressure and speed. Oh, and I’m dirty-talking into your ear like a motherfucker the whole time, as I’m sure you’ve noticed—that’s big. Otherwise, you run the risk of losing concentration and letting your mind drift to whether you paid the electric bill or set the DVR or some other life-shit like that.” He smirks. “Plus, dirty-talk is just plain hot. I love it. So, yeah, I touch you like I showed you, use the right pressure and speed, dirty-talk the fuck outta ya, and that’s it. Those are all the ingredients to the soup. Bam-bam-bam! Honey Bunches of O’s.” He winks.
I clutch my chest, sitting up. “This is life-changing for me. Do you know that? I’ll never be the same again.”