Page 69

Remember when you were a teenager with your first serious girlfriend or boyfriend, and you were finally alone with something like privacy, and you just had to do…everything? Touch, taste, smell, feel? Explore, experiment. There was no satiety; there was no enough; there was only more, more, more. It was frantic. Remember? The desperation? As if you might just die if you didn't get just one more kiss, if you didn't get to hear that belt jingle, feel his hardness filling your hand, feel his sweat on your skin, his mouth on your everything, everywhere all at once?

This was that, but infinitely complicated by adulthood and knowledge of what lies beyond mere kisses and touching. This was that, but multiplied by infinity.

I moaned into his mouth, sent my hand soaring over his skin, feeling the grooves and blocks of his abs and the slight skritch of body hair coating his belly and thighs. I roamed my way down his left thigh first, up over his groin and down the other thigh, delaying what I wanted most simply because my heart was pounding so hard.

But then I couldn't wait anymore. I needed to feel his big, hard cock, needed to know the sight and sound and scent of his pleasure, the hot rush of his cum.

I dimpled my fingers into his cheek beneath his eye, and I melted down into him and kissed him with all that I had, mouth open and tongues tangling, and he shifted, instinctively wanting to push up into me, to take over, but he grunted a soft noise of discomfort and relaxed again. I explored the hard muscle and hot skin of his torso again, palm skating slowly over his belly, across the shallow dimple of his navel. I felt him curl his belly inward in anticipation, heard and felt the inrush of his breath. Felt his thighs tense and his buttocks clench.

I paused. Not teasing but rather merely savoring the anticipation, both his and mine.

"Jax," I breathed.

"Mmm?" he groaned, a wordless sound of query.

"Open your eyes and look at me," I whispered; his eyes flew open and snapped to mine, locked there. "Hi there," I said, grinning against his mouth.

His brown eyes searched mine, flicking and flitting. I inched my hand downward. His breath caught, stopped. His abs and thighs and buttocks tensed.

I slipped my palm, flat against his belly, under the soft weight of his cock, feeling the warm, smooth skin drag over my knuckles. And then I was holding him in my hand, grasping his hot length in my small hand as I held his fraught gaze.

And dear god, the size disparity between my hand and his cock was sort of shocking.

His skin was dusky pink and stretched taut, the fat head plump and round, the groove beneath his glans begging for my tongue. He groaned as I slid my fist down his shaft ever-so-slowly, his jaw dropping by degrees as my fingers reached his root.

"Ah fuck, Tea. The way you touch me, the way your hand feels—fuck. So good."

"I've barely done anything," I breathed, grinning as I watched my fist twist around his base. "I'm just getting started."

He groaned raggedly as I loosened my grip and slid my hand back up his length. "Ah fuck, fuck, Tea. I'm not gonna last long."

With my other hand, I guided his hand to my breast, and then bent and kissed him again, slow and deep and wet. "Good," I whispered, the word breathed into his mouth.

"Why—" he broke off with a low groan when I twisted my fist down his length and pumped at his root. "Fuck! That feels so goddamned good, Tea. Jesus. I—oh fuck, oh fuck. Why's it good? It's pathetic. I'm already—shit, shit, shit!"

I giggled, something I don’t think I’ve ever done in my life, and yet I couldn’t seem to give a fuck, because I had Jax on the edge already and it was fucking intoxicating. "It's not pathetic," I told him. "Nothing about you is pathetic."

He groaned again, buttocks clenching to lift him into my touch. "But I—I can't—"

"I don't want you to hold back, Jax. I don’t want you to last. What I want is for you to come for me. I want to hear it, feel it. I want your pleasure. Jax, I want your ecstasy." I stroked his length, brought my hand back up to the top and rubbed my thumb over the leaking tip, smearing his precum, and then ran my palm over the tip to coat my hand in the lubricating liquid. And then I caressed his cock in a slow slide, tip to root, root to tip, twist, pump, twist, pump, tip to root, root to tip.

He groaned, then gasped. "Tea—oh god."

I put my lips to his ear. "There will come a time, and soon, when I'll want you to last forever." I nipped his earlobe. "When you're inside me. That's when I'll want you to last. But this?" I pumped his root with short, shallow movements. "This is just…me getting to know you."

He was panting now, his abs so hard you could crush diamonds on them. "You can—oh fuck. You can get to know me whenever you want, in that case."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, laughing.

"God, yes."

"Maybe I'll take you up on that," I said, watching his face as I caressed his length in slow, gentle strokes. "A fucking lot."

His eyes flicked up to mine. "I can't tell if you're fucking with me or not."

I kissed him, felt his cock pulse with need as I delved my tongue into his mouth and stroked his hot, hard cock. "That would be a cruel joke," I whispered, letting go of his cock to spend some time with his balls. "I would never fuck with you like that. If I say I'll do something, I follow through."

"I believe you." He paused, gasping as I palmed his taut, heavy balls and played with their delicate weight and warmth and softness. "Ohmyfuckinggod."