“You sure you don’t… want me… to play… a little… longer?” she asked, using her words to tease me as well as her lips as she gently kissed me between phrases. Her lips were full and wet, her breath warm as I trembled and tried to keep my composure.
I shook my head. I was naked, helpless and as she gripped the wet, stiff base of my cock in her hand, I gently thrust it in and out of her grasp in reply.
“Will you come for me?” she teased, alternately tightening and loosening her hold as I thrust in and out of her slick, wet fingers. “Can you do that for me?”
“You… you… keep teasing me like this?” I stammered, straining for self-control. “and I’m going to fucking come any second.”
She murmured, a deep, throaty, laugh punctuated by her tongue slithering around my tip. “Mmmm. I can already taste your come,” she murmured, dreamily, as if to herself. “I want to watch you come. I want to see it all over you.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” I grunted as she trailed her tongue up and down one side of my prick and then the other. “And you won’t have to wait very long.”
“Oh, but I want to,” she sighed, her warm breath on my balls making me shiver all over. “We’ve got all night, remember?”
I nodded feverishly as her lips, so full and slick and wet, hovered so close to my cock I was tempted to just hoist my ass off the couch cushions and aim for them like a bull’s eye. “Then you better get me to a cold shower.” I huffed. “If you want me to last that long, that is.”
“Oh no, Craig,” she purred, tightening her grip on my thighs and spreading them an inch or two wider as she wriggled in closer. “I’ve got you right where I want you…”
With that, she bent forward, and without another word, slid her lips around my swollen cock once more. The heat from her mouth was intense, the moisture rich and swirling as she used her tongue to swirl and dance along my cock as her lips clung tightly to every stiff, veiny inch.
Down and down she went, hot and feverish. Slow, deliberate until she retraced her steps with tight, clinging lips that left a trail of wetness where she’d been. Normally, I’d just lay back and close my eyes whenever a girl blew me, my fantasy life far richer than reality might ever be.
But now I watched her, eager and anxious, admiring her dark hair as it fell either side of my waist. Thrilled at the sight of her fingers buried deep in my flesh as she clung so tightly to my thighs, watching her lips suck and purse along the flesh of my rod. All my senses were on overdrive. I couldn’t get enough of the sound of her sucking my cock. Wet and frothy, sucking, and licking as, at last, the heat and sensations got the best of me.
The tidal wave of pleasure began to peak quite suddenly. A deep and lustful throbbing in my heavy, sagging balls, a rush of pleasure through my veins and a blossom of heat in my belly as I thrust and quaked and sighed before ultimately blurting, “I… I…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. Turns out, I didn’t have to. Avery lingered, just for a moment, savoring the swelling in my loins before gently dislodging me from between her lips and cradling my throbbing cock in one hand as she licked the right side. The motion sent me over the edge as I came, great white blasts of come spurting from my dick that splattered me all the way to my chin.
It continued to coat my chest and belly, liquid ropes of white heat that splattered and sprayed over me. She continued to lick and suck my shaft as it throbbed and spurt the last of its eruption onto my dense pubes.
I moaned with delight, my breath hitching with each throb as the last of my orgasm pulsed from the tip of my cock. Breathless and sweaty, I slumped back against the couch cushions, shaking my head in wonder that I’d come so fast when it felt so damn good!
Avery sighed, too, gently licking one last drop of come from my cock before savoring it visibly—and audibly—sinking against one thigh as she used her right forefinger to paint a heart in the come on my trembling belly.
“Good boy,” she murmured. “I knew you could do it…”
“You can, too,” I grunted, somehow managing to muster the strength, post-come, to lift myself from the soft, comfy cushions at my back.
“Oh, this lesson is over,” she teased, even as she knelt back to give me room to move. “I just—I couldn’t help myself.”
“Me either,” I said, reaching for her elbows and gently helping her up onto the couch. “And now it’s my turn to show the teacher what I’ve learned.”
“No, Craig,” she stammered, blushing even as her voice reeked of desire. “I… uhm…you don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” I murmured, sliding down to kneel between her thighs. “For the first time in a long time, Avery, for the first time in, ever… I want to do this…”
I realized as I said it, they weren’t just come-on lines designed to get some random hot chick into bed. They were actually true. I did want to pleasure Avery the way she had me. And what’s more, the thought of it was making me hard all over again.
Seven
Avery
Craig was beautiful, glistening, blushing and wet as he knelt between my legs. I sat on the edge of the couch cushion, breathless from playing with him, still tasting his come on my lips as I savored in the afterglow of the experience in every cell of my body.
Even limp and red after exploding all over his chin, chest and belly, his cock was thick and curved between his legs. My own personal male model brought to life and in living color right before my very eyes. I drank in every inch of him. His wide, anxious eyes, his chiseled features, strong chin covered in stubble and his red, full lips. The culminating effect enough to make me dizzy, as he reached for the hem of my sweater.
“Tell me if I’m doing this wrong,” he teased, gently, so gently—and slowly, so slowly—dragging the sweater up my body. I responded instantly, trembling, goose bumps dancing along my flesh as the soft fabric dragged and danced along my bare skin.
“Oh no, Craig,” I purred, my voice nearly unrecognizable as it swelled and thickened with desire. “You’re doing absolutely everything right…”
Our eyes met, wide and expectant, just before he tugged my sweater off and over my head. I grunted with enthusiasm, my breasts aching with desire as they strained against the basic pink bra I’d worn to the game. Never in a million—make that, a ba-zillion—years expecting it to be seen by anyone, let alone the hottest, sexiest guy on campus!
“So, you like teasing,” he murmured, his breath warm against my throat as he leaned gently in to watch himself reach for my left breast. “Tell me how it feels to be touched and teased.”
I sunk back against the couch cushions as he reached for me, struggling to find the words. “Keep teasing,” I joked, breathlessly as his fingertips finally made contact. “And I’ll tell you later…”
“If you insist,” he murmured, distracted—as I was—by the slightest whisper of his fingertip across the achingly tender stiffness of my nipple. I gasped quivering and not ashamed of it. After all, he’d already bared himself to me—literally and figuratively—as I made him whimper and moan, in his most tender moments. Now I was prepared to do the same, gasping and moaning in unison as the thick pad of his finger pressed down on my tender flesh.
I spread my thighs. Craig inched closer while his fingertip circled my trembling nipple. The sensation of soft cotton against my aroused flesh was exciting—overpowering. His other hand joined in the fun, two fingers circling each breast, making me wiggle and moan as the fabric became binding, my hot skin hungry to feel flesh upon flesh.
He must have sensed my impatience—ironic, considering how long I’d teased him—because instead of reaching around my back to unclasp my bra he simply, slid it up and over my breasts.
I gasped again, turning my head from left to right as his thumbs slid over and around each nipple, the skin firm and tender as I moaned savagely and bit my lower lip to keep from cursing. Part of me ached to guide him, to school him further, to tell him when to go faster or slower, harder or softer, but
his expertise and eagerness quickly won me over and I silenced the teacher in my brain to gently, gradually let the student take over.
And take he did. Gently and persistently, Craig turned my nipples into stiff peaks that throbbed and ached with every touch. The teasing sent a ripple through my body every time, making it dance and quake as his left hand danced down from my breast and across my belly, softly unzipping my skirt.
I barely noticed until the sound of the zipper tugging invaded my brain, shoving aside the pleasure of Craig’s hand upon my breast for what it might feel like between my legs.
My skirt was loose and breezy and never more so than when Craig slid it down my waist and with a quick maneuvering, my thighs. It gathered, like my sweater and his clothes into a pool at our feet.
“Jesus,” he said, admiring the matching cotton panties I’d worn beneath. “You’re… you’re…”
I followed his gaze to see the front of my panties, drenched with my desire. “If I’m wet,” I croaked, desperate and hungry, “you made me that way, Craig.”
“Damn, girl. How wet can you get?” he wondered out loud as his fingertips gently brushed across the wetness.
I grew greedy for his touch and resting back against the couch cushion behind me, nodded with approval. “You tell me, Craig,” I sighed, grinding gently against his fingertips as they pleasured me through the thin, wet cotton.
“I don’t know about you,” he said, his voice low and guttural, “but my English teacher taught me it was better to show than tell.”
I laughed and continued to grind gently against his fingertips. “Then show me,” I purred, surprised by my courage as the mounting desire made me brave—braver than I’d ever been with any man. “Show me how wet you can make my pussy.”
We laughed at the rough talk, probably for very different reasons. I was shocked by my own inner trashiness and he, perhaps, was surprised by how my good girl persona had quickly faded once behind closed doors. Frankly, so was I. Normally I was quiet and submissive in bed, so grateful that someone found me attractive I’d do nearly anything to make them happy. Which, for the most part, consisted of lying there while they groaned and grunted on top of me.
But Craig was different. Masculine and handsome, eager and willing, gentle yet affectionate. He could have made me come just by looking at him long enough. Instead he doubled down and slid his left hand beneath my ass, gripped my cheek and gently squeezed even as he continued to circle my swollen clit with his index finger.
I moaned and purred, clenching my ass in Craig’s hand even as I writhed against his fingertip. My body was aching, wet and slick as the sounds of my desire grew with each rotation of his expert fingers.
“For someone who says he’s never done this before,” I teased, voice hitching as he used the interruption to gently pull my panties from around my waist, down my legs and onto the floor, “you’re awful good at it.”
“Just rising to the challenge,” he said as he knelt between my pale, thick thighs. “You made me come stronger than I ever have before, I’m wondering if I can make you do the same.”
I chuckled. If only he knew how close I really was! “Keep doing what you’re doing, stud,” I murmured, echoing his earlier sentiment, “and you’ll be drowning in pussy in no time.”
“Fuck that,” he chuckled, fingertips dancing through the damp tendrils of my sodden bush. “I’m just getting started here”
He squeezed my ass with one hand for emphasis, sliding his other around to join the first as he squatted in front of me and began to kiss the insides of my thighs. First one leg, then the other, working his way up from the joint above my knee to just below my pussy.
“Mmmm,” I murmured, my skin so sensitive I felt the orgasm building already. “Jesus, Craig…”
“Shhh,” he whispered, a sound that sent shivers through my already heaving body. “Show, don’t tell, remember?”
I nodded, eager to be the willing student to his expert teacher. His lips continued to pepper my inner thigh with soft, probing, kisses until he had nowhere else to go. He paused, wriggling slightly closer and squeezing my ass cheeks for support as he began to press down on my pubic curls, licking and sucking as he went.
The pressure was divine. Somewhere deep inside me, I felt the warm blossom of a powerful orgasm begin to surge. As if sensing it, he ventured lower, his lips sucking around the wrinkled curves of my swollen, pink, labia.
I gasped at the sensation, gripping the couch cushion beneath me as my orgasm bubbled, like a simmering pot of water, just beneath my skin. It was as if every cell had been turned on at once, the nerve endings raw and desperate as they lit up with every touch, caress, lick and lather.
When his lips found purchase around my swollen clit, I tensed and froze, trying to stop my hips from pushing into his mouth further, eager to hold onto the sensation for as long as I could. He, too, seemed ready and willing to extend my pleasure. Rather than rushing things, Craig slowed them down.
Planting his lips around my swollen clit, he simply let the heat from his mouth build and swell. I’d never experienced anything like it before. I bit my lower lip to stem the tide of curses, clenched my ass to stave off the growing tidal wave, shook my head from side to side and gripped the couch cushion beneath me—to no avail. I came hard and fast. And maybe a little too loud. Craig, on the other hand remained calm and clamped to my throbbing clit.
When the first orgasm began to wane, Craig merely had to slide his tongue across my uber sensitive flesh to have me rocketing to a fresh climax, even stronger than the first.
Swollen, sated, and sweating, I gasped and moaned, again and again. One by one, Craig brought me to more climaxes in one night than I’d ever had in my entire college experience. Each time I whimpered and moaned for him to stop, Craig ignored me—to my enduring delight.
At last, my body shuddered. Craig’s hands cradled my squirming, writhing ass and he paused, licked his lips and smiled. “Thank you,” I gulped, quickly sliding from his grasp and moving to the other end of the couch as, he climbed onto the wet cushion I’d just vacated.
“For what?” he chuckled, reaching out to gently stroke a stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of my face. “Starting… or stopping.”
“Both,” I chuckled, curling up into a ball and leaning back so that we faced each other. He did the same, both of us unabashed in our nakedness, our bodies sticky and wet from dual pleasure. “I… I’m not sure I could take much more.”
Eight
Craig
“Funny,” I said, admiring Avery’s curvy body, glowing from multiple orgasms. She was stark naked a few inches away from me. Making me eager to touch, taste and tease her all over again. “I was thinking just the opposite.”
She smirked, coquettishly, shaking her head. “I guess I forgot how quickly college guys can… reload.”
“Forgot?” I asked, watching the dim light shine on her small, shapely breasts.
“Or just never had enough experience with them to remember,” she said, a tinge of sadness invading the huskiness of her low, sexy voice.
“You could’ve fooled me,” I murmured. She was so hot and sexy, I’d just assumed she’d been beating them off with sticks this whole time.
“You’re just being kind,” she murmured, reaching for a throw pillow to cover her nakedness, as if talking about it made it something she should hide away.
“No,” I said, inching close enough to feel the heat coming off from her soft, pale body and smell her delicate musk all over again, signaling that I wasn’t alone in feeling randy for a second time. “I’m not. Look at you, Avery, you’re… beautiful.”
The blush across her face was instant and honest, revealing that despite her many assets, Avery was far from a confident college co-ed. Cutting a quick glance around the living room, I saw not the obvious trappings of a seductress but the humble abode of a working-class girl trying to eke out a better life for herself. There were the black and white prints on the walls, the
Eiffel Tower and Big Ben, probably bought two-for-one at the local K-Mart. The cheap, do it yourself furniture and the half-empty pack of girly drinks in the fridge. It was hardly the panties hanging from the rafters and 12-packs I was used to on those rare nights when I went home with one of the football groupies who clamored around the locker rooms and frat parties after each game.
“You’d be the first to say so, Craig,” she said, her voice low and soft. She shifted her body slightly then, as if she was uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. Her bare breasts peeked above the throw pillow on her lap. I felt the surge in my libido as her soft, rosy nipples rasped along the pillow’s top fringe, imagining my fingers doing the same.
I could hardly believe I was ready to go again, my cock hardening just beneath my own throw pillow, imagining the silky feel of Avery’s hands—or mouth—caressing my cock like a glove. Usually I couldn’t wait to kick my latest trick out of bed, eager for a little sleep after the big game and some alone time in a world of constant demands.
But Avery was different. As the night wore on I couldn’t wait for what might happen next and wished the hours would slow down, even stop, so I could stick around as long as I wanted. I wasn’t sure what it was about her that made me feel that way, just that she did—and I didn’t want it to end anytime soon.
“Then let me be the first to tell you,” I said, and not just because I wanted to get a second—or even a third and possibly fourth—lesson in foreplay before the night was through. “Avery, you are beautiful.”
She shook her head, and gently sliding a foot across the couch cushion that separated us and stopped when she met my shin. “What did I do to deserve you?” she asked, all insecurity vanishing as she pressed her toes against my leg.
“Just gave me my first lesson in foreplay, remember?” I teased.
“First?” she chuckled, a sound I’d grown to love in our short time together. “What’s next?”
“You tell me,” I murmured, thickening with each husky breath she took and sweet, soft word she muttered. “You’re the teacher, remember?”
Time Out: A Holiday Sports Romance Page 4