Fuck!
I’m completely crazy! What if he starts screaming when he sees me? I can’t even imagine his mother’s face. She’ll be good to go to the shrink.
Should I take the chance? Or should I not take it?
I take the chance. I would like to leave, but I can’t. I’m drawn to him like a magnet. I take off my clothes and slowly, praying no sound comes out of his mouth, I slip under the thin fabric. He still hasn’t moved, his breathing still incredibly slow. Our bodies touch deliciously and he doesn’t seem aware of it. I slide a hand under the sheet, brush against his leg before daring to touch him. He doesn’t react. Slowly, I bring my fingers higher, up to his dick. Oh my God, he already has a hard-on!
“Mmm, Sandre!” He growls as I caress his crotch.
He’s said my name.
His eyes are closed and his face betrays no emotion. Is he dreaming about me? It gives me palpitations! I press myself against him without stopping the caresses on his dick getting even harder. He moans and wiggles, but his eyes are still closed. For a moment, I contemplate his square jaw, his full lips appearing in the darkness. I brush against his lips and he surprises me by slipping his hand on my neck to push his slightly open lips to mine. I feel his other hand on my butt and he rolls me over while kissing me passionately. Shit, it’s me who is bummed! Did he see me come? Was he faking it? And suddenly, he freezes.
He’s still on top of me, but he doesn’t move anymore, as if he was thinking. I wait for his reaction, terrified. What if he throws me out, thinking I went too far. His face pulls away from mine and I see his dark irises scrutinizing me with an indecipherable expression. If I could see him better I’d know where I stand at, but in the dark, no way to know.
“Fuck Sandre! What the hell are you doing here?” He ends up whispering.
He spoke in such a low voice that I still don’t know if he’s upset or not.
“I had a nightmare.” I take a chance, like a little girl pleading her parents to let her stay with them.
A smile draws on his beautiful face and I’m relieved. “Mmm, I should be able to make it better.” He whispers and wiggles on top of me.
Holy God, yes, I want him! I want to have nightmares every night. I feel his dick harden between my legs as his hands go down to my breasts. I grab his cute little ass to press him harder against me. Fuck, yes! I hold back a moan and he presses his lips against mine to make sure no sound escapes them.
I feel him growl in my mouth as my fingers slip into his boxers.
“Fuck Sandre! I like you so much!” He whispers as he takes it off to make it easier for me.
My heart jumps at his words. I know it means nothing. He’s just happy to have me here in the exact same time his dick is begging for me.
And he suffocates as my hand caresses him on the right spot. I hold back the scream threatening to come out when his fingers slip inside me. It feels even better to be playing with fire.
Our lips don’t let go of each other’s to make sure none of us will betray us. I start moving faster and so does he, our arms put together to get in the same rhythm as our tongues search each other’s and intertwine. It feels so good!
“Tell me you have what we need.” He murmurs against my mouth.
His hips pressing on our tangled limbs prevent me from all movement. He’s motionless on top of me. I feel his warm breath that comes out noisily. He can’t take it anymore and neither can I.
I indicate the small shiny pack I just put on his bedside table and he smiles as he grabs the glow-in-the-dark condom.
“You were afraid of losing me?” He jokes, ignoring the double meaning of his words.
I hold back a shudder to hide the effect these words have on me. I don’t want him to know and I don’t want to think it could have any kind of importance. Our bodies are playing with fire but our hearts are safe. It is not about them. The rules are clear: no feelings, no strings attached, only sex. And he whispers in a low voice, as if it was necessary:
“I am. Afraid of losing you.”
Why did he have to say that? I don’t need him to reassure me? I tense, but he doesn’t know about my distress and removes my tensed fingers off his dick. He’s already putting it on and gives me a kinky smile and I forget about the unease that wormed itself in me.
I loudly growl when he slowly penetrates me and he puts his hand on my mouth to muffle the sound coming from deep inside my throat. He begins an exquisitely slow back and forth. I suffocate under his fingers and feel my heart race in my ears. He stops again, imposing the softest of tortures on me. I dig my nails into his cute little ass and wrap my legs around him. He’s so deep inside me that I don’t want him to move anymore. A sensation like this is…fuck!
“Sandre, good God, what are you doing?” He growls as his body arches under my flowing orgasm. “I wanted to make the pleasure last. We’re gonna have to start all over again.” He gasps, collapsing on me.
I enjoy the left offs of the pleasure my whole being is crawling with. I’m too hot, but I don’t want him to move and he doesn’t.
“I can’t do without you anymore.” He ends up murmuring turning on the side.
I enjoy his arms around me, waiting for him to ask for more. I’ve never felt so good. I wish his words were true and it would never end. I wish he could need me forever, even if in the end, he marries Marcy. I would be the mistress he sneaks around with. I think I would love the moment when Marcy finds out that I’ve always been in her shadow and that her marriage means nothing without me. No, I’m crazy, it would surely be horrible and it will never happen.
I turn to the most beautiful of lovers, brushing against his lips and caressing his completely flat dick at the same time. He doesn’t react at all.
Fuck, he’s asleep! The party’s over!
I take back the glow-in-the-dark condom and its see-through pack, put my clothes back on and leave the same way I came in.
22 — Josh
There are no words to say how much I like it when Sandre comes to slip under my sheet at night. She has a gift for knowing all of my desires. We don’t have to talk to know what the other one desires, and in the silence of the room, sensations are strongly increased. The first time she came, I thought it was a dream, yet something in the room had changed. And when I woke up, I was more confused than ever.
I still hadn’t come to my senses when Marcy jumped all over me in front of school. It’s crazy how Sandre completely monopolizes my thoughts. Each time, I desire her more than the previous and Marcy’s beauty becomes cruelly insignificant next to the intense sensations Sandre’s bare skin brings out in me. Good God, how can one be this addicted? We should slow things down a bit, but I can’t tell Sandre not to sneak in to my room anymore. I want her. I could even keep my window open at 5 degrees!
I’m the biggest idiot. I know I’m in trouble and yet I’m unable to put a stop to it. It’s stupid, but I spot some kind of hope when a message from Sandre announces me she has her period. I want to detoxify myself. An abstinence detox treatment! I want to get high on Marcy.
“We do something together after school?” I ask her taking her last French fries.
Sandre is only a few tables away from us, but I took the habit of ignoring her, and I think she prefers it that way. Only during old Salomon’s classes I dare to look in her direction a few times, but I’m always disappointed not to feel anything. She should come to school naked!
Yet, when last week the old four-eyes gave us an A+ for the presentation she prepared on her own, I almost fell to her neck and kissed her in front of everyone. I think I could have dragged her to the toilets to do some insane things to her as well. My God, how do you explain such a thing?
“Oh, what a shame, I thought you were studying and Nataly really needs to talk. I promised her. You understand honey?”
I’m so spaced out that I don’t get her reasons for letting me agonizing all alone. If she knew what state I’m in! I think I could screw all that moves just to convince myself
I’m addicted to sex and not to Sandre, but even the cheerleaders don’t have the same effect on me as before. Good God, what’s happening to me? If she stands me up like an idiot, I’ll go round in circles like a crazy dog. Suddenly, Boby brings me out of my thoughts.
“So this presentation with the rebel wasn’t that terrible? You can hang with your friends again now.”
Hearing him talk about her, about MY rebel makes me shudder.
“I promised my mother to improve my grades and she’s turned all crazy on me after my misconducts over the past weekends.”
I don’t even know why I serve him this crappy excuse; I don’t need to justify my absences anymore as I’m on a cure.
“We don’t care about your mother.” Steve protests. “What we really want to know is if her father has scared the hell out of you, if she converted you to hard drugs, to firearms, and if you’ve hidden the salami at last!”
That guy is a first class pain in the ass who thinks only about sex and his conversations annoy me even more since I know my share of the subject.
I’m about to answer back when Marcy leans to my ear, clearly embarrassed by the path this discussion has taken:
“Let’s go for a walk. We have half an hour before my next class.”
I don’t know why, but Marcy hates it when the guys start talking about Sandre and every time I panic, thinking she got what’s going on.
I want to stop feeling guilty, I want Marcy to understand at last, to make me forget about my mistakes. But once outside, she talks to me about her support group I don’t give a shit about, and her piano lessons even more so. It’s affection I need, but it has been so long since I last tried something with her that I’m afraid of her reaction. I turn around; caress her beautiful face with the tips of my fingers and ask with not much confidence:
“Marcy..do you love me?”
“Of course I do. What’s this question about?” She says, surprised, eyeing me as if she feared I was coming down with something.
“You never show it?” I insist.
“I do…well…you know…we haven’t…”
She doesn’t finish her sentences as if she was realizing what my point is. She’s so scared of taking the plunge that she avoids all kinds of displays of affection. I believe she’s about to give me the proof that our love is still as strong, as important as before at last, but she settles for giving me a chaste kiss that brings out no emotions in me.
“Again!” I whisper, tenderly hugging her and softly bringing my lips to hers.
Her arms wrap my waist and she kisses me back, trying to stay as good as possible.
I should be satisfied, it’s better, but it’s not enough. I want more. I want more and she refuses to understand. I still wait for my heart to start racing, for my limbs to give in, but nothing happens.
My dick is a fucking traitor! Once school’s over, I only want one thing, go find Sandre, even though I know nothing will happen.
And like an idiot, I’m in front of her house as always. I hesitate. I’m really stupid; it’s not my place here. I should leave, run away, and fast. Detox! Good God, where are my resolutions? She can do nothing for me.
But I still don’t move. I stand here, staring at her door, wondering if she got home yet. What is she gonna do tonight? What does a girl like her do to get busy? Without thinking I put my hand on the knob. It gives in instantly. It’s open! Oh my God, it’s open! All her secrets are behind that door and there’s nothing to hold me back. I’m going to make a big mistake!
The house is silent as always. I never really took the trouble of observing the walls, the corners, but I know there’s nothing. No pictures, no clothes or shoes lying around. Nothing that would betray the presence of residents. Her house is like I imagine her parents, cold and distant. Her life sure isn’t easy every day.
I take a hazardous step into the living room, Sandre’s things clash on the white leather couch. She’s home! My heart starts racing when I realize she might not appreciate my intrusion, and I’m not even talking about my parts, all agitated, looking forward to their casual sex session.
I don’t care, I want to know, and if she throws me out, I will have to go through the detox. My crotch protests when I spot the usually locked door in the corner of the kitchen. Oh my God, I’m about to know!
I walk closer, slowly, almost shaking. You don’t care, she means nothing! Josh, get a hold of yourself! Crap, she’s there!
She wears nothing but a tank top and black leggings sculpting her gorgeous body. She’s so sexy like that, leaning over a big metallic table proudly standing in the middle of the room. What is she doing? She’s so concentrated that she doesn’t even see me. I approach her some more to see better. The table is covered with hundreds of multicolor drawings. No, they are not drawings, but photos. And then I see them. The walls are covered with pictures. Close ups of athletes in action with cheerleaders agitating, the junkies revealing all their weaknesses, Steve and his sluts and some youngsters I don’t know. It’s crazy how well she manages to catch people’s intimacy. Scenes we run into every day without being able to get the emotion they are filled with.
And, there are pictures of Marcy and me, I’m all eyes for her, as if we were alone in the world. I didn’t realize it was this obvious! It’s stupid, but I panic as I realize Sandre knows. She means nothing but a distraction, I don’t care about her. My crotch doesn’t like this, because she’s the one it wants, the only one it desires. Crap, how can I think about stuff like this?
I’m this close to running away, when I realize that Sandre has seen me. She’s taken off the coal around her eyes and when our eyes meet I shiver. How can a little of black change everything?
She observes me with an indecipherable expression. I’m going to be thrown out like a scumbag. I await her rage, and my parts have curled up in panic. Deserters!
“Shocked?” She blurts out with an impressive calm.
It’s ridiculous but I’m relieved and my crotch gets comfortable again! Sandre doesn’t seem to be mad at me. She even doesn’t seem to care, as if our relationship had no importance whatsoever and my heart crumbles in an incomprehensible manner. The room has shrunk; it doesn’t hold enough air for the both of us.
Fu…ck!
“I haven’t decided yet.” I answer, trying to hide the contradictory emotions assailing me.
A large smile draws on her harmonious face, like every time she has an idea in mind.
“Any reason you’re here?” She insists, suddenly curious.
“A habit”
“Need to cuddle?”
“Possibly.”
I don’t really know what to think anymore. As always, I’m completely lost when she’s close to me. My senses are unresponsive, only my parts react and want her. Yet, unease has settled between us. That’s the problem we have when our bodies don’t touch. And as if to make up for the need, she gets closer and takes my hand.
“Come, I’ll fix this.” She whispers pushing me out of the room.
She closes the door behind her and presses me against the kitchen’s corner unit.
“So, having trouble staying sober?” She mocks me while caressing me through my way too thick jeans.
I muffle a moan, but my dick has already betrayed me by pressing itself against her palm. Not yet 48 hours and I’m already completely frustrated. I restrain myself from lifting her up to fuck her on the kitchen counter. I want her so bad, but I know it’s impossible.
Suddenly my hormones can’t take it anymore. I turn her around and grab her hips to make her wrap her legs around me. I want every inch of her skin to be touching mine as I kiss her savagely. Her tongue is salty and spicy, she’s sheer excitement and I need more of it.
When I pull away to catch my breath, we are both panting.
“Hey! Slow down, keep calm handsome stallion.” She whispers pulling me to the couch.
It’s the first time she calls me by a nickname and my tool loves it. She sends her stuff flying not caring ab
out the noise of her bag falling and with an impressive delicacy she lies me down. She treats me like a wounded man in need of urgent care. Are we playing doctors tonight? Makes my crotch go crazy.
With infinite precaution, she takes off my shoes, stands up and seems to be scrutinizing me. Again, she comes down on me and my T-shirt is sent flying with a quick and precise movement. Her hands linger on my chest before unbuttoning my jeans.
“So, what happened to this poor little thing today?” She asks slipping her fingers into my boxers.
Oh! My crotch stands up and I arch my back at the touch of her agile hands. How does she do it to coax it this well? My hormones have just taken over and I’m no longer in control of anything as her caresses make my dick shiver.
“It has lacked attention those past few days.” I mumble as she slides my pants down my legs.
In no time I’m completely naked and she straddles me and eyes me with a kinky look.
“Really? And here I thought I had done what was necessary!” She declares with a salacious smile that has a crazy effect on me.
She takes off her tank top and her bra, giving me the best show ever and she leans over me to taste my skin begging for her touch. Her breasts brush against my chest and I press my hands on the small of her back to feel her better on me. I enjoy the softness of her back as she slowly slides down to my stomach running her tongue over my skin. I’m at her mercy.
It’s impossible not being able to resist her. I think that even if I convinced myself to leave immediately, I wouldn’t be able to. I need her, her body, more than anything.
“I can’t get enough of this.” I gasp as her mouth plays with my parts.
The touch of her tongue sliding on my crotch is…good God! There are no words. I hold on tightly to the couch’s cushion as she sets on my dick asking for nothing else.
Sinder 1: Experimentation Page 14