The Heartbreakers

My first kiss with Channing was in front of the others, and while being a great kiss, I was excited but nervous about being under scrutiny.

This is ... God!

His lips are impossibly soft, caressing mine invitingly, full of promises about what he can make me feel if I allow him better access.

And I don’t hesitate to grant him that, when his tongue licks at the seam of my mouth.

Channing tastes minty and vaguely sweet as he explores my mouth with skilled confidence. Every time his tongue tangles with mine while his lips massage me gently, a wave of excitement warms up my entire body.

We slide down on the pillow, his strong, muscled body partially covering mine under the blanket and I’m spinning out of control; I’m grateful that we aren’t standing up, because I doubt that right now my knees would offer me any support.

I attack his mouth hungrily, taking care to do everything Jameson taught me yesterday.

My tits are smashed against Channing’s hard chest and his slender hips are aligned with mine, so that I can feel him growing harder and harder in his jeans.

I felt Darrius getting hard last year, when we almost kissed on the beach, but this—this is different. Channing feels much bigger than the boy I’ve been in love with since I can remember; he’s taller, bigger and he definitely wants me if I have to judge by the way he’s devouring my mouth.

I feel his kiss everywhere and I don’t even realize that I’m rubbing my body against his until I feel his large hand cup the side of one of my breasts.

My body immediately reacts with a rush of heat that pools between my thighs as my nipples harden, begging to be touched.

“I love your tits, Lenley. They’re perfect.” He groans, nipping at my bottom lip as if he were trying hard to rein himself in.

But contrary to his words, his hand leaves the globe of my breast and I moan in protest, arching my back and grieving the loss of his touch.

“Do you like it when I touch your tits, Len?” he whispers as I squirm, trying to get more of everything; more of his mouth, more of his touch, more contact with his hard, perfect body.

“Yeah I like it,” I grind out breathlessly.

“One day soon, I’ll fuck those perfect tits, baby. I’ll come all over them.”

No one has ever even touched my tits before, but it feels so fucking good that I gasp, opening my mouth to beg him to do it right here, right now.

“I swear I will.” He smiles, sucking on the sensitive spot where my neck meets my collarbone. “But we can’t do that here. There are too many cars around us.

I had completely forgotten where we are and that Molly Ringwald and her pack of misfits are exploring their school on the giant screen in front of us.

Channing’s lips are leaving a trail of fire down the column of my neck and his hands are now settled on my hips.

I don’t even realize that I’m trying to grind my hips against his hardness until he chuckles, bringing his mouth next to mine again. “Damn you don’t even know how fucking hot you are, Lenley,” he whispers as the slightly rough tips of his fingers skim their way up my thigh, sneaking under the hem of my denim mini skirt and tracing the edges of my panties.

“Oh!” I gasp when his fingers swipe over my front, feeling their way up my slit through the thin lace of my underwear.

“Hmm, I can feel how soaked you are through your panties. I love that you’re so wet for me.”

I respond with a breathless whimper, grateful for the fact that he loves it, because right now all I want is more.

And Channing doesn’t make me beg.

His fingers slip deftly under the lace of my panties, feeling my bare skin, tracing the seam of my slit.

I feel him smile against my lips. “Fuck, I love a smooth, bare pussy.”

I mentally thank my Mémère for insisting on having my entire body waxed when she took me to get a makeover, but the thought is fleeting because Channing’s fingers are parting my soft skin as they continue their exploration.

“Oh my God.” I moan as the pads of his fingers find a very sensitive spot and press lightly on it.

My heart is beating wildly in my chest, so loudly that I’m positive Channing must be able to hear it.

“Channing, please—” I don’t even know what I’m begging him for, but I arch against his hand as he leaves that spot to head south, toward my entrance.

“I know, baby. I know,” he murmurs soothingly, tracing my opening with his fingers and gathering my wetness. “I promise you’ll get what you want. Do you trust me?”

The answer to that question surprises me, since I barely know him and with his reputation in town, trusting him sounds even more dangerous than jumping out of a plane in a wingsuit. “I do,” I whisper, because regardless of what people say about him and his friends, they’ve shown me nothing but kindness since we met.

“That’s so fucking hot, Lenley,” he says, moving his now slippery fingers right back where I want them. “Tell me, where do you like to be touched baby?”

His fingers are wandering away again and I swear to God, I could cry, even though every touch feels really good.

“I—I don’t know, I—”

“How is it possible that you don’t know? Where do you touch when you’re by yourself?”

I feel my cheeks redden, because while I don’t think he’ll judge me, my inexperience makes me feel so unsexy, that I’m afraid he and the others will lose interest just like Darrius.

“I don’t know,” I repeat.