Sex Sessions: After The Cut (Camera Tales #2)

by Charisse Spiers

  "Lying is not a good habit to have."

  "There are times when an exception should be allowed!"

  "Why? I gave her enough information to suffice if she feels obligated to tell someone. I then said, 'but if you need a legit answer for marketing purposes I met her in a nightclub and I'm still working out the details.' She was perfectly fine with that answer."

  "Okay. That I can live with. When is she coming?"

  "Saturday. Mid morning. She wasn't sure until she looked at flights."

  "This is really happening . . . I was kind of expecting you to say Sunday."

  He shakes his head. "I tried. She wanted more time to get to know you. I even told her Tynleigh and Meg were taking you out Saturday night and she said her and Dad would find stuff to do then."

  "Wait. What?"

  "I'll tell you later. Can we finish here? I'm still thinking of biting . . ."

  His teeth immediately dig into the flesh of one boob. My eyes close and my head falls back when his teeth scrape along the surface of my skin. A breathy moan escapes. "Biting what?"

  "Your pussy lips."

  A shiver overcomes me. He moves to the center of the shower space, wetting us both. "Are we going to be a while?"

  "As long as it takes. On your feet. Then ass up."

  All the muscles between my legs lock. I can't even explain the way my body reacts when he gets this dirty, raw demeanor about him. I guess it's my fetish with us. "Will it hurt?"

  My legs slide down his body until they hit the floor. His face is completely serious. He's transitioned into this alpha male that has nothing on his mind but fucking. He's not the boy that just made love to me. He's the man that wants to use and abuse my body in the most beautiful way. "Do you want it to hurt?"

  I turn away from him and bend over, placing my hands on the edging of the tub. His thumb and the curve of his bent index finger clamp around the skin that encompasses my clit and he pulls. My body follows; a reflex of the pain. "Kind of like this?"

  All I can think about is wanting him to touch me more and longer. The way you feel when you're starving for food and can't do anything but suffer through the salivating occurring in your mouth is exactly the way I feel between my legs. He slaps my ass, still locked onto me. I look over my shoulder at him standing behind me, his feet firmly planted. "Yes," I say, my breathing exiting my mouth in jagged spurts. The words exit without me willing them to. "Bite me."

  The water changes from the showerhead to the faucet, and I can hear him stop up the drain. One by one he drops to his knees, but doesn't let go of his hold on me. Instead, he tightens it, and as he does the pad of his thumb grazes my clit still nestled inside. "Bring your pussy to my face."

  "Shi—" I whisper, and slowly push off with my hands, sending my lower half toward him. He wiggles his thumb a little, barely touching it again. He knows what he's doing. My body starts to move in the opposite direction from the sensation it caused, but as I do his teeth lock on the skin just outside of my entrance, creating a tug-o-war effect. Like a rubber band I retract.

  I can barely stay still with him doing that. He inches inward and sucks the surrounding area into his mouth like one would the overspill of soda on the lid of a cup. He jerks on me again and I scream out on accident. Everything down below feels like it's throbbing. He nips my skin again and then pushes a thumb inside of me, thrusting in and out a few times. When he pulls out, he circles the tip and then moves up until it's perfectly aligned over my back entrance.

  I want him to push in so bad. I want it in the dirtiest possible way. He never disappoints. I bite down on my bottom lip when he pushes through the puckered muscle slowly, opening it. "Fuck, your pussy is beautiful when it's dripping wet because of me." His tongue swipes along one lip as he begins to thrust in and out with his thumb.

  His thumb and index fingers release me, but immediately are replaced with the flush mounted position of his index and middle fingers against the sensitive skin. He exerts a hard pressure against it and swipes back and forth once, parting my lips enough to touch my clit. "Right there. Please right there."

  As soon as the last word exits my mouth his pace increases tenfold. My back arches, forcing my bottom harder against him. "Your pussy is contracting so hard. You're so wet. You want my cock in there, baby? You haven't had enough yet?"

  If I were aware of the sounds coming from my mouth right now I'd probably be mortified, but I'm at a point of no return in the mental awareness department. All I know is he's coming at me from two different directions and the occasional nibble at the center. It feels glorious and euphoria is knocking at my door. Only a glass window stands in my way but not for long. It's about to shatter in five, four, three . . . "Don't stop. Dammit don't stahhhp."

  The words trail off as my entire body stills. For a few moments I'm lost in another world before I'm pulled back. He knows when I'm gone and when I come back, though, because the second my orgasm dwindles he's pulling out of me. I stand upright in the calf deep water and turn around. He's already standing. "I can't believe this is my life. What I did to deserve you, Sax . . ."

  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest. A very noticeable appendage is driving a space between us. "How much time do we have?"

  He looks into my eyes. "We don't have to do anything more. I got off earlier. I'm perfectly satisfied with just showering and getting ready. It’ll go down. You deserve couple time that doesn't involve sex or clubs."

  I grab his dick and begin stroking it. "How much time do we have?" I ask again, driving my point across.

  "Enough."

  "How do you want it?"

  A smirk appears on his face. "How about a little Throwback Thursday?"

  "It's not Thursday yet."

  "It's close enough."

  The water continues to rise. It dawns on me. My expression now matches his. "Bathtub sex?"

  He shuts off the water and sits down. "Just like that first night."

  "That seems so long ago."

  "But nowhere close to being long enough. A lot of firsts happened that night."

  "Did I ever tell you how nervous I was that night?"

  "No, but some of it was noticeable."

  "Not for the reason you think. That actually didn't bother me at all. I was ready for that. I was actually nervous as hell that I would fall in love with you."

  He smiles, and with that smile comes the showing of how much love he really has for me. That's one thing I love about his smiles. "And here we are."

  "Here we are," I repeat.

  "How'd that work out for you?"

  "I had every reason to be nervous. You bewitched me, and I failed miserably, because even though I told myself not to, I've fallen hopelessly in love with you."

  "Show me."

  His phone on the bathroom counter catches my attention. I grab it. "How about a bonus edition?"

  "Whatever you want, beautiful."

  I straddle him and lower myself onto his thighs. "Sweet is always better with a little heat."

  His hands wrap in my wet hair and he pulls me into a kiss. I always love the way his stubble makes my lips feel raw. A tingling effect begins shortly after. Our warm tongues meld together perfectly, every time we kiss.

  He grabs the phone from my hand. One hand finds a place to steady the rest of my body. I grab his dick and sit down on it, the water starting to move. I pull away from his lips as I begin to ride him. He places one hand on my thighs and waits for me to look at him before saying anything. "Some of the best scenes come after the cut."

  "I like to think of it as deleted scenes."

  And with the angle of the camera pointed to where he wants it, he looks back up at me. "Then let's make them good ones. Ride my cock, baby."

  So I do. Clip-by-clip and post-by-post we're documenting our porn love story, because in a way I don't want to lose this. After all, it's what brought us together in the first place.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Saxton

  "Are yo
u going to tell me why I had to dress a little . . . different than my usual taste?"

  I glance over at her in the cab. "You'll find out soon enough."

  "Aren't you supposed to dress a little classier than Rockstar for a date?"

  I look down at the Rolling Stones band tee shirt she's wearing. "You make a mouth look good, baby. I think that tongue between your tits fits the occasion pretty damn well. Just know that if I face plant your chest later it's totally normal."

  She lifts her foot holding each end of the shoe. "Sax, I'm wearing Converse. I've never owned a pair in my life. They make me look like I have clown feet. I would hardly think this is appropriate for any sort of date.”

  “You could never have clown feet baby,” I interrupt.

  “Just curious, though. What would you have done if Tynleigh and I wore different sizes?"

  "You brought your own jeans; the only part that matters. The shirt looks amazing because your rack is bigger than hers. No man ever said loose is better than tight when referencing a woman in any way. Everything is the way it is for a reason, beautiful. They were just meant to fit. Nothing is random, just maybe temporarily unknown of its existence, but if you must know look out your window and find out for yourself."

  She instantly turns her head toward the window as the cab pulls into Madison Square Garden. Her body draws closer to get a better view I suppose. Me—I sit back and watch the expression on her face as it changes, because one thing that makes me happy is seeing her explore new things in life. Every new adventure with her is what makes living life worthwhile.

  "Wow." Her voice is reverent, soft. She's in awe, as she is from time to time, and that is what strikes my heart and makes it beat harder and faster. "I've never seen anything like this in real life. It's beautiful. Is this?"

  She pauses and looks back at me. "Is this Madison Square Garden? The Madison Square Garden . . ."

  The cab stops and I jump out to run around it before she can open the door herself. I want to do this right. She looks at me out the window as I grab the handle and open the door. I reach for her hand as the smile begins to break through. She stares at me, waiting for me to speak or do something first. I hand the driver fare plus tip to get him out of here and shut the door.

  When he pulls off I wrap my arm around her and rest my hand on her shoulder. "It is. I was trying to decide our first little nighttime journey in the city together that didn't involve sex or partying and I just felt this was right with your love for music. It's a well-known event venue all over the continental U.S. I'm going to put it out there that I’m aware it probably isn't who you would have chosen to see given the option, but I figured we could have a little fun and it was about the only reasonable option. I’m sorry but I can’t do Kanye. Rock or girly shit, fine, but him I didn’t think you’d want to see either."

  "I cannot believe I'm really standing here, staring at Madison Square Garden all lit up. This is amazing, and it's perfect, regardless of who we see. You really do get me. Do you realize that? I don't think that's just something that you easily find in someone, but you really think about my likes and my dislikes. You always go the extra mile with us. I love you so much, Sax."

  I can't explain the weird as hell feeling I get in my chest every time she makes it known that she loves me. What I do know is that I would spend my last fucking dime or take my last breath to make her happy like this forever. I kiss her temple. "I love you the most. You ready to rock out?"

  She glances up at me as we start to walk. "Who's playing?"

  "AC/DC."

  "No crap?"

  "Do you like them?"

  "I'm not a huge fan or anything, but I've heard a few songs. I'm actually kind of excited."

  "That makes me happy, baby."

  When we make it through the gate I hand her the ticket stubs. "What's this for?"

  "I was kind of thinking. It might be cool if you made us one of those books. You know, the ones that you fill up with different stuff. It could be something we can take with us when we buy that house; also something we can add to here and there. Like memories and shit. Whatever it is that girls put in there. I don't really know what I'm talking about. I just remember my mom having several of them. I've been noticing you taking pictures here and there and I just thought it was a good idea. Maybe not. You don't have to. Like I said it was just a thought."

  She pulls on my hand when I stop at the concession stand line to get my attention. "Are you talking about a scrap book?"

  "Yeah. That's what it was called."

  "You would participate in random girly things when it comes to an over abundance of photos and ridiculous ideas to make one?"

  "Yeah. I'd rather play along and have a lot of stuff to look back on one day than to be an asshole and then regret it. I've already wasted so much of my life I feel like. I don't want to waste anymore. I've found the girl I want to be with. I don't know. It may not be a very masculine idea and I'm not a crafty person so I'll leave the production to you, but I'm a pretty simple guy. I don't want much, but I do want memories."

  I move up as the line slowly dwindles. Once we stop again, she walks in front of me and wraps her arms around my waist. I glance down at her and her lips touch against mine. She pulls away from the kiss quickly to avoid a scene. "What was that for?"

  "For being the greatest man there is. I think that's a brilliant idea. I've never done one, but I can research and experiment. I'll just put these in my wallet for now."

  "You want a beer?"

  "They serve alcohol?"

  My brows dip. "Most concerts do, especially rock. They just don't carry the glass bottles. It's usually aluminum." I pause, thinking. "I'm going to risk sounding like a jackass. Have you never been to a concert at all?"

  "Not secular. I've been to some with my youth group."

  I take a deep breath, letting out some of my frustration before the words expel. It angers me every time I realize just how sheltered she was. It's fucking ridiculous. I get wanting to keep your kid out of trouble, but there are plenty of in betweens. I know I shouldn't be surprised anymore, but I am. Living on a farm I had a lot of responsibility that most kids didn't, but I still had time to experience being a teenager.

  She's staring at me, and I realize she's worrying. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a mutual hug instead of me standing like a zombie while she hugs me. I need to let all expectations of dating go and just go back to the basics, because with most things that's what it is with her. "It's no big deal. I guess I was just assuming you had been to something like Nsync or Britney Spears: a family oriented, kid friendly concert."

  "Ha! I wish. That would have meant I had normal parents."

  We make it to the counter. "What do you want?"

  "Whatever you get," she quickly replies.

  I hold up my fingers. "Two Bud Lights please."

  I grab them and pay to quickly move out of the crowded way, then hand one to her and take her hand as I do. She keeps pace until we make it toward the direction we're supposed to go. A tee shirt stand selling band gear catches my eye as we move through the sea of people walking in different directions, so I stop. "Which one do you want?" I ask close to her ear so she can hear me.

  She points to the one she wants hanging on the metal caging behind the few people working the table. The older man with the staffing badge glances back to see which one it is. "Make it two. A large and a—"

  "Large," she says as I look at her.

  "Large?"

  She smiles. "Sleep shirt. That way I don't have to wear shorts."

  Wrong time to think of her in a tee shirt and panties, but I give her a look I know she'll understand and move on. "Whatever the lady wants," I state to the man waiting for us to make up our minds.

  He pulls two from the same large cardboard box and hands them to her, rolled up and secured with a rubber band, as I pay. "Add a pair of those too," I say, pointing to the red staring at me from the table. I set my beer down to take them in one
hand as I place my wallet back in my pocket, before turning to her. She has the rim of the beer at her lips, taking a sip. Her face sours as she brings it back down.

  "Don't like it?"

  "It'll just take some getting used to. I'm used to the sweeter stuff."

  "It's an acquired taste. Once you get used to it you'll never stray."

  My eyes are focused on her hair as I pull the small tag to make them blink, and then place the headband on her head in a way I know it won't mess up her hair too much. "There. I think we're all set. You look kind of cute."

  As I pick up my beer she tucks the shirts under her arm and grabs my other hand. "Well, this is definitely a change from the angel my parents always forced me to be. Maybe I should take a photo and text it to my mom. That would be a laugh for sure . . . or collateral damage."

  We walk toward the stadium seating according to the tickets to find our seats. "Oh, a couple horns here and there never hurt anybody."

  The stadium is already mostly packed. I'm actually relieved that somehow we ended up with seats at the end of a row. I let her in, and then take my seat, immediately placing my arm around her. "What do you think?"

  Her eyes are all over the place, and the most contented expression resides on her face as she people watches. There are thousands of other people with the same blinking red horns that she has on scattered throughout the arena. "I think this is the coolest thing I've ever done. I owe you for that. Thank you for bringing me here."

  I kiss her and pull her into my side. "You're welcome, baby. You do know if there is ever anything you want to do all you have to do is ask, don't you?"

  "I guess, but that's just it. I don't think about things usually because I'm so used to not being able to do them. By the way, I don't think I've ever seen this whole rocker grunge look on you. It's kind of hot."

  "You think so? This shirt is old. I'm a little surprised it still fits." I take a swig of beer. "Back in college me and a few friends would go to concerts here and there or music festivals. When you're working your way through college the music festivals were the best way to go. One price, all you can drink, multiple bands, and usually food all in the same place. It's a broke kid’s dream."