Booty Call

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Booty Call Page 9

by Ainsley Booth


  The standing mirror, where I can picture her looking at herself as she gets dressed.

  As she gets undressed.

  As she touches herself, maybe, because she’s a girl that sends me pictures, so maybe she’s a girl who watches herself get off.

  I’m jealous of that mirror, for getting a daily glimpse at her soft, lithe body.

  It’s been offered to you, jackass. Over and over again, and I keep turning her down. And then tonight, if I hadn’t pushed my luck and shown my hand, shown how desperate I am for her, I could have had another offer.

  One of these days, she’s going to offer, and I’m going to take every inch she gives me and then some.

  Then the second picture comes in.

  A: 2/2

  And it’s hot as fuck. Skin, everywhere. Nothing exposed, nothing that would end up in the tabloids—she’s learned that lesson well. One arm over her breasts, one leg twisted up to cover what I already know is the sweetest pussy in the entire fucking world.

  Her tongue, caught between her teeth.

  But it’s the look on her face that does me in. Naked, unvarnished need, and I’m swearing under my breath, because my heart is already across the street and punching in her security code, and that can’t happen.

  One of these days just might have been tonight, if I wasn’t stupid.

  S: I deserve to go home and have a cold shower. You’re fucking gorgeous. I’ll be less of an ass tomorrow.

  A: Then maybe we can hang out tomorrow nite

  S: I’m going to hold you to that

  A: Hold me however you want…once you’re out of the doghouse

  Fuck. I shake my head and laugh as I head back to my vehicle.

  —fifteen—

  Alison

  I wait until the next day to message Corey. I’m tempted not to at all, but we’ve got another month of class together, and I don’t want it to be more awkward than it needs to be.

  He doesn’t reply.

  That’s fine.

  I get some reading in over breakfast, then Hailey texts and asks me if I want to go to yoga with her and Tegan. I pass, but it reminds me that the most cardio I’ve done in a week is grinding against Scott’s leg last night, and I throw on my running shoes. I kept off the freshman fifteen by diligently logging the miles, but in the last year and a half, my running has fallen down the priority list.

  Those ramen noodles won’t work themselves off.

  When I get home, I throw myself into the shower, which makes me think of Scott last night. He’d said he’d go home and take a cold shower.

  I hope he didn’t. I hope he got himself off instead. My skin flushes, nothing to do with the hot water beating down on me, as I picture him naked. Hard. Holding himself.

  My hand slips between my legs, over my trimmed curls, and into the slippery wetness that spontaneously happens whenever I think of him.

  All those muscles straining…would he lean forward, brace himself against the wall as his hand moved faster? I rub my clit and close my eyes, picturing him jerking off on his bed instead. Laying on his back, watching me through almost-closed eyes as I perch between his legs and tell him to make himself come. Tell him I want to taste it once he does.

  My cheeks burn at the idea.

  Maybe tonight I’ll invite him over so I can give him a blow job.

  Then I’ll crawl into his lap and ride his hand again. I try to slide two fingers into myself, but it’s not the same. His touch lights me up in a way I can’t replicate, so I don’t try. I find my clit again and roll two fingers over it now, imagining they’re the thick pad of his thumb. That he’s right beneath me, teasing me with his cock.

  I want him inside me like I’ve wanted nothing else in my entire life. I start to clench for him, clench at nothing, and the ache of that sends me spinning into a bright, hungry climax that makes me shudder and quake, but still leaves me wanting more.

  I slump to the floor of the shower and tip my face into the water.

  Good Lord. I hope he’s not busy tonight.

  He’s going to get a hell of a text once I’ve finished my International Relations crib notes.

  —sixteen—

  Scott

  9:05 pm.

  That’s what the time on my phone reads when Ali texts me. The time when I realize, this is actually happening. We’ve danced around it for ages, but now we see each other, truly, and we still dig each other.

  A: I’ve been studying all day.

  S: Good girl.

  A: I have been. Worked really hard. And now…

  My heart thuds in my chest. My cock thickens, straining at my fly.

  S: Now?

  A: Wanna come over?

  I’m at her door twenty minutes later. She answers in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, and I’ve never seen anything sexier.

  “Hey,” she says, and that’s as much conversation as is going to happen before I’m balls deep in her.

  Maybe.

  Fuck, I’m nervous. I’ve run into gunfights with more confidence than I have as I peel off her shirt, baring a black satin bra that’s simple and fancy as fuck at the same time.

  I’m not sure if I can take her virginity, but I can sure as hell make her come again. Christ, I’ve missed the feel of her clenching hard around my fingers. I want to taste that flood as she rides my face.

  “Bed,” she gasps as I lift her up, palming her ass through soft cotton that has to go, now. I kiss her neck, sucking on the flesh there, then lower, tasting her collarbone and her shoulder. I use my teeth to pull down her bra strap, and she grabs at the other one, baring both of her breasts.

  I almost drop her as her tits bounce into view.

  She’s perfect. They’re perfect. Round and firm, topped with nipples that are already tightening under my gaze. I set her down and drop to my knees. I nuzzle the skin between her breasts, then take my time kissing both mounds before I suck one tight peak into my mouth.

  I almost jizz in my pants at the sweet fullness in my mouth, the rub of her taut nipple against my tongue. So fucking good. Sexy and lush, I can’t wait to have these beauties slapping me in the face as she bounces on top of me. I ease off her pants, then stand, replacing my mouth with my hands. No way am I leaving her breasts unattended. I’ll be their faithful servant for the rest of the night.

  For fucking ever if she wants.

  Ali palms my dick through my pants and I hoarsely tell her to get me naked. She starts with my shirt, unbuttoning it. Her fingers are shaking, and I stop her long enough to pull her hand to my mouth and kiss the tips. “We’ll go slow,” I promise.

  She laughs. “Slow is the last thing I want. I’m so excited I can’t handle it.”

  Well, all right then.

  Eyes on her the whole time, I wrench down her panties and lift her up, my palms big and rough on her hips. Fuck, she’s tiny. And she’s breathing fast, because some brute is manhandling her onto her bed.

  But when she lands on her back, she doesn’t scurry away from me. Slow as honey, she rolls her knees up between us, her ankles crossing—obscuring my view of her pussy.

  My pussy. For tonight, it’s mine.

  I’m going to lick it.

  Suck it.

  Finger it until she screams.

  Claim it in every way I can without ruining her forever.

  I get rid of my clothes and crawl on top of her, our mouths finding each other, her hands wrapping around my back as I tangle my fingers in her hair.

  Her legs wrap around my waist, and I forget about all my virtuous plans to make her come on my fingers and with my tongue, because she’s already wet, and I can feel her pussy against my balls.

  She freezes.

  I kiss her harder, not ready to talk about going to the next step—or not.

  She comes alive in my arms again and rolls her hips, and my cock slips between her lips, lying against her sex.

  I match her movements, heat swarming my entire body as I rut against her.

  “Scot
t,” she breathes, and I brush my thumb across her cheekbone.

  “Ali.”

  “You feel…wow.”

  I grin at her, then I glance down between our bodies.

  It’s obscene, this view of my cock sliding between her legs.

  Beautiful, how wet she is for me. How slick her slit is, making me glide faster, rub harder.

  That’s us. Beauty and the beast. My arms flex as I hold myself above her, surging our bodies together.

  Almost fucking.

  It’s even more perverted like this.

  “See how much I’d fill you up,” I rasp, and she jerks her head up.

  She was already watching, but now she’s looking right at me again. Like she sees every twisted want in my head and they get her off. Blood pounds through my body. She licks her lips and the throb in my cock hurts so bad now.

  “Yeah, I see,” she whispers. “You’re so big. You’ll never fit.”

  That shouldn’t turn me on. It never has before, not like this. Not this fantasy. But it totally does. She writhes beneath me, taunting me to play, too. Fuck, yes. I press her legs wide and grind against her, my cock riding hard over her clit and onto her belly again. “I’d break you, Ali.”

  “I want you to.” She reaches for me, winding her arms around my neck, and she tugs me down.

  I could hold myself up. I could resist her. Make us both watch as her breath grows shallow, as her nipples tighten and her tits flush.

  But if I let her bring me close for a kiss, if she wraps her legs around my hips, it’s going to feel…

  “Oh,” she gasps, as the angle between us shifts, and suddenly, my cock is right there.

  She’s so wet. It’s such a mindfuck, knowing I could just slam into her. Knowing just as clearly that I can’t.

  I can’t.

  My dick didn’t get the message. He’s drooling hard, a big fucking puppy dog barking at the park.

  I don’t have a condom on. She’s never done this before.

  We can’t.

  She rolls her hips, and the tip—just the tip, holy fuck, it’s a wet dream come true—notches into place.

  Yes. My mind scrambles with how good this feels.

  “We can’t,” I mutter, and it’s so guttural I’m not even sure it’s English.

  She kisses me, hot and frantic, her breath puffing against my mouth as she licks at me and looks down between us and then kisses me again.

  “Come on,” she says. “Just a little bit. I just wanna feel you…” She whimpers as I press my hips. Just a little bit.

  What she wants.

  He’s not going in any further, not without one of us working hard for it. My balls pull tight, begging to blow their load in a virgin pussy, and she wants it. I want it. I can’t remember why this is a bad idea.

  Two consenting adults.

  A fucking shared craving that isn’t going anywhere, no matter what we do.

  Heat and need are swirling around me now, binding me to her, but I can’t do this. I pull back, and this time I don’t let her hold me close. She growls beneath me, fierce and proud, and I haul her up and off the bed, holding her against me as I spin us so I’m sitting against her headboard and she’s on my lap.

  My cock is safely wedged between us, his wet tip angrily slapping my belly.

  “You want me inside you, Ali?”

  She winds her hands into my hair. “You know I do. You still got a virgin hang-up or something?”

  I laugh, harsh and hollow. Or something. “You being a virgin isn’t a problem.”

  She smirks. “I know it turns you on.” She licks her lips. “It turns me on, too. I wasn’t kidding when I said I want you to break me.”

  “I’m not doing that to you. That’s not what sex is, Ali.”

  “You going to teach me? I want to know every last dirty thing you know.”

  “That’s why God invented Tumblr. You don’t need me to teach you.” My dick disagrees, and Ali makes this hungry little sound in her throat as my erection throbs between her legs.

  She rocks down my length. Back up again. Then she stops and grabs my hands. She presses them to her hips, then slides them up to her breasts. I love her tits so much. They’re ripe and firm and surprisingly heavy.

  They’re fucking womanly. She’s making a point. Has been making it, and I’ve been missing it, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t punched me for being stupid.

  We’re both breathing hard, and she whispers my name. I jerk my attention from her nipples—can’t blame me, come on, they’re perfect—to her face.

  “I’m not a kid,” she says softly. “I haven’t done this with anyone else because I’m kind of fucked up about sex and I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be ashamed, either, though, and I won’t let you turn me into some virginal innocent girl. Not unless it’s a game. Okay?”

  None of this is okay, not really. But Ali? Fuck, there’s nothing wrong with her. I nod and move my hands of my own volition this time, cupping her face. “You aren’t fucked up about sex. And there’s nothing to be ashamed about between us.”

  “Then why aren’t you inside me?” Her voice is soft and sweet, but strong.

  She deserves the truth. “Because I’m the fucked up one. I’m having trouble separating fantasy from reality here, and trying to be a good guy.”

  A smirk tells me my goal is way off the mark. “Get a condom on, mister. I want to have sex, and I want to have sex with you. I want you to call me a good girl and use all the dirty words, and when we’re done, I’m probably going to want to do it again.”

  How the fuck can I say no to that?

  I tumble her onto her back and reach for my pants on the floor. I roll the condom on as I crawl between her legs, but I don’t thrust into her yet. I enter her with my fingers first, watching her face as she takes one, then two. That’s fucking tight, but she’s bucking hard against me.

  “Another one,” she breathes. “Stretch me wide. Get me ready.”

  Ali’s no innocent. Gotta love the internet. I slowly add a third finger, and it’s too tight, but she presses against me until she can’t go any further, then I ease back. Before she can frown at me, I slide in again, getting past the knuckles this time.

  When I pull out again, I wrap my hand around my cock, smearing her wetness on the condom.

  She’s as ready as she’s going to get.

  —seventeen—

  Alison

  My heart is pounding a mile a minute as I watch Scott press his erection against my pussy. I rock my hips, wanting him inside me with a restless impatience I can’t even handle, but then he shifts, and he’s inside me, just a little bit, and it’s ohmygod so much bigger than his fingers.

  I cry out and he pauses. He doesn’t pull back, and he gets a gold star in de-virgining for that. He just looks at me and tells me how hot I am.

  That helps.

  I roll my hips, then plant my feet on the bed, but that tenses everything up.

  “Shhh,” he says, shifting so more of his weight is on top of me. Oh, I like that.

  He kisses me, his tongue coaxing mine out to play, and then, ever so slowly, he pushes inside me, pausing every time I tense to whisper something else. Bit by bit I open to him, and he presses inside until he’s filling me up.

  I’m gasping for air by the time he’s buried to the root inside me, because I’ve never in my entire life felt anything like this.

  I’m so full it hurts, but the hurt is so good, and I want him to do something, but I’m not sure what. Fuck me, probably.

  I breathe his name, and he presses his hips into me. How is that possible, to get any deeper? But it is, and he does, and then he starts to pull out.

  Before I can say something—no no no, maybe, or get back here, asshole, or don’t move, please—he thrusts all the way into me, making me scream. And then I know exactly what I want to say.

  “Again. Oh my God, do that again.”

  He grins, and does exactly that, dragging his cock out of me and drivi
ng it back in, tripping a bunch of really awesome nerve endings in both directions. I cling to him as he rocks into me, and when I start rolling my hips enthusiastically, he shifts positions, pushing up onto his knees.

  He hauls me up with him, so my hips are off the bed and in his lap. I can’t move as he holds my thighs steady, and he feeds his cock back into me. This angle is even better, because I’m all relaxed and open to him, and deep inside, the thick, broad head of his erection is rubbing something that feels so, so good.

  I’m going to explode.

  I mean, I’m going to come, but in a new and scary way, and I think it’s a legit concern that I might actually burst into a million pieces.

  People don’t actually die from sex, right? Not unless there are gerbils involved?

  I’m probably safe. I hope I don’t actually explode. As soon as all those pieces of me slam back together, I’m going to want to do this again.

  My hands roam onto my body. I want to touch him, too, but I can only reach his knee. But there’s another part of him I can touch. The part that’s ruthlessly spearing into me, over and over again. I slide my fingers over my mound. Holy shit, I’m wet. Well, that would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so hard. And huge.

  All of that is inside me, I think as my fingers dance over his surging flesh. My touch centers all of my attention right there, where we’re joined. It feels good, but underneath the “holy shit full of feelings” reaction, there’s a burn, too. I’m going to be sore later.

  That’s later’s problem.

  “Touch yourself,” Scott rasps, and I jerk my gaze to his face. He’s watching, too.

  “I’m touching you.”

  “And I’m going to fill you up with come in a minute, so either touch that pretty little clit and make yourself come, or get that gorgeous hand out of the way so I can do it.”

 

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