by Jamie Knight
I couldn’t keep her out of my mind. Particularly our accidental embrace. She had felt perfect. Soft and warm. Her tits pressing lightly against me. I could hardly believe how big they had gotten. She had always been a pretty scrawny kid and something of a tomboy until she hit her teens.
Unable to take it anymore, I went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, unzipping my jeans as I went. I actually let out a sigh of relief as I liberated my cock, which was already quite hard.
Going easy at first, still pretty sensitive, I started to stroke, thinking about Camilla naked. Not long after that, I was imagining touching her. Nothing too heavy. Just light caresses down her bare back and gentle kisses on her supple neck. I imagined sliding my arms around her hips and holding her as I kissed her neck from behind, soon sliding them up to her beautiful tits.
When she was properly aroused, I imaged laying Camilla out on the bed and, working my way up from her feet, up her legs and over her thighs, licking her pussy, long and light. Lapping at her sensuous pink pussy lips, making her moan long and deep. Undeterred, I kept going, marginally adding pressure, licking Camilla until she came.
I gave her a moment to recover, lightly stroking her belly to help calm her. When she was ready, I carefully got on top of her, Camilla opening her legs in welcome. I imagined easing the bulk of my cock into her tight little pussy.
Stroking my cock even faster, I imaged fucking Camilla at a steady, moderate rhythm, pumping her beautiful little pussy until she came all over me. I wasn’t far behind. Both in my head and in real life.
There was no way I could deny this anymore.
Chapter Six - Camilla
I barely got back to the apartment building before Aden. I did my best to be patient, giving him time to get settled after I heard his car pull up, identifiable by Dante Street Massacre blasting from the sound system, and his door opening and closing.
Holding on as long as I could, I went over and knocked on his door, after taking a breath. A breath which caught again as soon as I saw Aden, standing before me wearing only jeans. He had his T-shirt in his hand. Strong, rippling abs and chiseled pecs were all I could see. The sight kept me from even being able to say hello.
“You just caught me changing, come in.”
I admired the view as I walked inside and sat at the kitchen table as my crush went to the bedroom, returning a few minutes later, unfortunately fully dressed in sweats.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked, trying to get my heart rate down.
I honestly wasn’t expecting much. My primary male role model growing up was Cooper, who was so culinarily unskilled he probably couldn’t have burned water.
“Sweet and sour chicken with prawn fried rice, unless you’re allergic, of course,” Aden said.
“No, not at all. Are you going to order from the local place?”
“Oh, no, I’m going to cook it. I just got a new wok I want to try out.”
I watched closely as he made the dish. Astonished by his graceful, meticulous movements. It was almost erotic watching Aden cook. I imagined what it would be like for those hands to touch me with the same kind of exquisite skill.
I was buzzing with desire by the time he finished and served the food up on four dishes — one for the chicken and one for the rice. One for him and one for me. I deliberately brushed Aden’s hand with mine as he set down my plate. If he noticed, he didn’t let on.
The plates were followed by two cups of a thick, bluish-white liquid I had never seen before.
“What is this?”
“A sort of yogurt drink. Pretty big in Turkey. It’s good, try it.”
I tried it having no idea what to expect. It turned out to be one of the tastiest things I had ever drunk and finished off the glass in no time.
“Sorry,” I said, wiping away my thin white mustache with the back of my had.
“It’s fine. I did the same thing the first time I tried it.”
“More?”
“Sorry, no. It’s hard to make, so I only made the two.”
“Oh.”
“Here, have mine,” he said, putting his own glass over on my side of the table.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Of course, it’s not spicy at all.”
“Thanks,” I said, being a lot more careful with my second chance, feeling pretty humbled.
It was the most I’d eaten in a while, at least all at once. I liked to eat several meals over the course of the day, interspersed with exercise, but the food Aden made was so good I couldn’t help myself. It was the yogurt-like drink all over again.
“Do you like it?” Aden asked out of nowhere.
All I could do was nod emphatically, my mouth already quite full of lovely food at that point.
“Mouth full?” he asked with a slight grin.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Good. I was hoping to get your mouth full,” he said casually.
I shivered at the possible double meaning. “Me too,” I said, honestly.
“Wait until you taste dessert,” my crush said with a roguish wink.
My pussy nearly melted. He could have been making small talk to prologue the moment, but there was a good chance that Aden also wanted what I did. Not to knock the lovely food.
It really did impress me what a renaissance man Aden was. A brilliant artist and culinary genius who clearly had a lot going on in his head. That would go a long way in explaining why he was usually so quiet. He was generally thinking.
I wondered what other talents Aden was hiding. Was he also an architect designing buildings in town? Was he a world-class concert pianist doing a few performances a year in concert halls, decked out in a tie and tuxedo? While it seemed the least likely, this last notion got me even more excited. Aden dressed like James Bond, caressing the keys of a sleek, black grand piano the way I longed for him to touch me.
“Do you like music?” I asked, my voice quivering slightly.
“Oh, sure, my record collection is huge. Well, it was. Most of it is on MP3 now. I still have a few CDs, mostly autographed collector’s editions and even a handful of vinyl. Mostly from the time when they were the main form of recording.”
“You have original pressings?” I asked, nearly choking on a prawn.
“Only a few. Mostly early ‘90s Black Metal. Mayhem, Dark Funeral, that kind of thing. I’m a bit of a purist, I must confess. It just doesn’t sound right in digital transfer. Removes some of the spirit.”
I was oddly touched. Aden’s meticulous attention to detail really did extend to every aspect of his life. Even the music he liked to listen to. I’d never been much of a Metal girl, but that could partly be because Cooper was way into it as a teen, and I had gotten overexposed. Though I had never heard of the bands Aden mentioned, I was starting to get curious.
“Do you play?” I asked as Aden did the dishes.
“Video-games?”
“Music.”
“Oh, yeah, I mean, I dabble on bass.”
I couldn’t tell if he was being falsely modest or genuinely humble. Though the latter seemed more likely. He clearly had talents galore, but I had never heard him boast about them. Given his track record, ‘I dabble’ could very well mean that he used to tour with a band.
“Will you play me something?”
“Sure,” Aden said, turning off the tap and placing the last plate into the dish rack.
I followed him to the far corner of the living room, where he seemed to conjure a solid-body Rickenbacker bass and an amp from behind one of the many bookshelves.
“You hide it?” I blurted.
“Yeah, otherwise, I have to put up with the invariable surprise when people see it. I don’t cook for people often either.”
I couldn’t help but feel honored. I didn’t know if he saw something in me or was just making an exception, but knowing it wasn’t something my crush didn’t do for just anyone made me feel special.
T
he amp hummed softly as Aden flicked it on and plugged in the bass. I had never really thought much about the bass. Mostly because of the two-chord stylings of most of the bands I knew. Aden set me straight in a hurry, actually playing chords and riffs, making something that sounded like a much deeper guitar. A couple of lines of which put me in mind of Motorhead or even Joy Division. Peter Hook was widely regarded as redefining how the bass was played in a rock context, making it the main melodic instrument. Several Joy Division songs didn’t really have much in the way of guitar, if at all. Guitarist Bernard Sumner exclusively played synthesizer on “Love Will Tear Us Apart.”
Just as my heart and pussy were beginning to melt, unsure I could be any more attracted to Aden than I was right then, he clicked off the amp, gently replacing the bass to its stand and swooped me up into his arms.
Overjoyed, I thought for a second that he would carry me to the bedroom, but, apparently, he couldn’t wait either, laying me out on the neatly cleaned table. It felt hard under me, but I soon got used to it.
Taking me gently the ankles, Aden pushed my legs back and apart, my skirt riding up, revealing the fact that I wasn’t wearing panties, leaving my tight little pussy exposed.
“No panties,” Aden observed, running his thumb gently along my lower lips.
“Yeah,” I confirmed breathlessly.
“Naughty girl.”
“Yes.”
Before I really knew what was happening, he had me over on my stomach and landed a short, sharp spank on my bare ass. There was a harsh sting he alleviated by gently caressing the affected spot after. The rough, then sweet behavior made me even wetter. I suddenly found that I liked being punished by my brother’s best friend.
Aden did this again, making me yelp and then moan, with meticulous attention, blurring the lines between pleasure and pain.
After a few more spanks, he kept massaging one of my reddened cheeks, using his tongue on the other. The wet roughness felt even better on my tender flesh. I let out a long, soft sigh, struggling to remember the last time I had felt so good.
Switching over to the other cheek while massaging the previously licked one, Aden moved ever so slightly inward. Progress which continued until he was on his knees, his face buried between my thighs, both hands on my hips pulling me back even harder against his tongue.
I grabbed onto the opposite edge of the table to stable myself as Aden buried his face into my pussy. The day I had been waiting for over the last ten or so years was finally coming to pass. Even before I really knew what sex was, I would touch myself, imagining Aden making me feel good.
He licked me to a literally screaming orgasm, tremors rippling through me from my shoulders on down, my knees buckling slightly as all my locked muscles relaxed at once as I hit the crescendo. I collapsed against the cool hardwood of the table, Aden the only thing keeping me upright.
With gentle hands, Aden stripped me naked, exposing my soft flesh to the cool air, my nipples going instantly hard. Something that apparently got Aden’s attention, at least going by the way he started fondling me. He sucked gently on each of my nipples, alternating between the two making sure to give each equal attention.
Taking me around the waist, he lifted me back onto the table, laying me back down on my back. He didn’t have to spread my legs that time, as I was more than happy to do it for him.
Unzipping his jeans, Aden unleashed his thick dick, which was even longer than I remembered. Using one hand to spread my pussy lips, he eased his cock up against the opening of my pussy.
“Do you want me?” he asked.
“Yes,” I cried, wanting desperately for him to finally take my virginity.
My brother’s best friend was more than happy to oblige. With a wild look on his handsome face, Aden pushed into me. There was a slight sting as he took my innocence, and then it was overcome by the pleasure of his big cock rubbing on my pussy walls.
Each gentle pull and tug was like heaven, giving me sensations down there that I had never experienced before. My whole body quivered. I wasn’t sure that I could take much more, but then he pushed in deeper, hitting my cervix and bringing a different type of pleasure to me.
All I could do was moan and push my hips into his. Aden was completely dominating me, body and soul, pounding his massive cock into my tight pussy. My lower lips held onto his cock as he pumped me, not wanting to let go. It felt so good to have him inside me, stretching me, but the pulling out brought the push back in, which was mind-blowing.
My cervix tingled. My abs tightened, as did my pussy walls that clamped down on Aden’s huge cock hard. It was like my body wanted to feel all of him, from the soft ripple of his cockhead to the stiffness of his shaft. Every flex he made, I felt it pressing against my inner walls, and the pleasure it brought me made me want to scream.
There was nothing like sex.
I wanted to do this with Aden every day.
The friction between us built. I was so wet, my thighs were slick. Aden’s dick glided in and out of me harder and faster. As he pumped, he grabbed my breasts tightly, running his hands over my nipples. Each touch sent an electric jolt through my body.
The tension in my abs built. My legs clamped around his waist. My toes curled. My head swam.
“Oh. My. God!” I screamed as my orgasm slammed into me hard enough to make my whole body jerk.
Repeatedly my body cramped down, releasing into a haze of tingles that ran from my pussy to my spine and up to my head. Grabbing at the table, I shook over and over, my butt slamming down onto the hardwood.
Aden kept hid cock buried in me with a vice-like grip on my hips. He bit his lip, trying not to cum as my pussy quivered around his shaft.
All too soon it was over. I wanted the moment to last much longer, but it didn’t.
Turning business-like, Aden eased his cock out of my pussy and brought it around to my mouth. Without a word form either of us, I took his cock halfway into my mouth and sucked him off until he unloaded down my throat. It came as a bit of a shock honestly, not only because of how much there was but that I still managed to get it all down.
It may have been foolish, but I thought Aden might invite me to stay the night. The sex had been pretty spur of the moment, but I’d hoped it might have had an emotional effect.
“I have to go,” he said, zipping up, looking away from me.
“W-what?” I asked, honestly not sure I’d heard him right.
I stood and pulled down my skirt.
“I have to go, I have plans. You should go home.”
“Plans?”
“I’m meeting a woman for drinks.”
“It’s only seven,” I argued. None of this made any sense. How could Aden possibly be meeting anyone else? Especially after just taking my virginity.
“None the less, I have to go.” Aden grabbed his leather coat and opened the apartment door.
I rushed to get my bra and shirt back on, carefully smoothing my skirt back down, fighting hard against the urge to cry. I was still wet from our sex. The taste of him was still in my mouth. He couldn’t kick me out now.
But he did.
Chapter Seven - Aden
The line between good and bad could be surprisingly blurry. I felt terrible about having misled Camilla, especially after taking her virginity. I was meeting a woman for drinks, but that woman was my cousin, Shae, who had just arrived in town.
However, I had intentionally worded it so that Camilla would misconstrue what I meant. A clear case of using my powers for evil. But evil was usually on a scale, and I was trying to account for the even greater ill of having fucked her in the first place. I really lost it to my desire, which was a clear mistake.
I may not have felt like a brother to her like Cooper insinuated, but I did feel a sort of protection. I had known Camilla since we were both kids, and the guilt of that came on full force. It was best to end anything that might form before it could begin. It would be better in the long
run, even if it meant hurting her a bit now. We could be friends, that was all.
The bar I was meeting my cousin at was one of the nicer ones in town. Not exactly a champagne fountain kind of place but several steps above a dive. I didn’t want to shake Shae’s sensibilities too much. She had been a nurse for several years and had seen it all, but I still tried to make things as easy on her as possible. This was especially true now that she has just gotten done with a nasty divorce.
If there was anything my time in the military taught me, it was just because you can handle a situation, it wasn’t healthy to do it too much. It struck me as kind of funny, honestly. The professional and healer and the professional soldier both suffering similar damage.
Shae was already at the bar when I arrived. She must have used GPS. My cousin was easy to spot. The bubble gum pink ponytail she still sported, despite being in her late twenties, practically glowing in the near dark.
“What’s new, pussycat?”
“Really?” Shae asked, cocking a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“What’s the story, morning glory?”
She laughed. “A bit better. At least your getting into the right generation.”
“What are you having?”
“Brown cow.”
“Good choice.”
“Brown cow,” the bartender said, putting the tumbler down in front of Shae.
“Thanks,” Shae said, it being unclear where the gratitude was directed.
“What will you have?” the bartender asked, noticing me.
“Rum and diet coke and put an umbrella in it.”
“Funny,” the bartender said, without a shred of humor. He stalked away, presumably to make my drink.
“Still avoiding sugar?” Shae asked, taking a sip of her chocolaty-looking drink.
“Yep.” I sat on the barstool next to her.