Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

I ghosted my mouth between her tits, and her areolas went pink and pebbled. I palmed the bottom of one breast and stretched my fingers to her collarbone. Her nipple grew into the heart of my palm.

“I’m sorry they’re small,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“My breasts. They aren’t that big.”

I looked up at her. If they were small or perky or blemished or gold-tipped, I didn’t notice. They seemed just right, and they were hers, and mine, so I wouldn’t change a thing. “Are your nipples sensitive?” I asked.

“I think so.”

“Does it feel good to have my hand on them?”

Slowly, watching me, she nodded.

“How about my mouth?” I lowered my head, taking half her breast into my mouth, sucking up until I’d reached the tiny pink peak. If I splayed my fingers wide enough, I could squeeze both tits in one hand. I’d sink my cock between them and they wouldn’t meet over the top of my shaft. These were things I needed to know. I’d known nothing up until hours ago, and now I’d learn it all.

Lake fisted my hair. I realized I’d been sucking on her nipple hard enough to make her squirm. I tugged it between my teeth, and she urged her pelvis into my chest. Gently, I felt her between the legs. She was wet enough that I knew it was working. However long it took to get her off, I’d do it, but sooner was better so I could start over again.

I slid down farther, to the bottom of her ribcage, her belly button and pubic bone. She was covered in fine light hair that begged to be caressed. It didn’t look as if she’d ever shaved, and she was blonde enough that she didn’t need to. I would show her how, though. My chest inflated as I thought of designing her most intimate parts to my satisfaction.

I pushed her thighs open, and she tried to close them. “Stop,” she said.

She was embarrassed. I planned to inspect every part of her, but I understood if she had a long way to go until she was comfortable with me. “Have you ever looked at yourself?” I asked.

“No.”

I thumbed her folds apart and found her pink as candy. I licked my lips as she tried to shove my head away. “Manning.”

“It’s your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Mine too.” That was a lie, but as far as Lake was concerned, it was true. She didn’t look placated. Maybe she didn’t realize what a big deal that was. Eating a girl out was as intimate as kissing her. I’d never cared too much for it. I did it to be fair. But with Lake, I needed it, and bad, and in that sense, it was a first for me.

“Maybe we should wait,” she said. “I haven’t showered since before the show.”

“I need you like this,” I said. “Not perfect and clean and shiny. I want to eat you when you’ve been out all day, after you’ve been fucked and filled by me.” I passed just the tip of my tongue over her clit so I wouldn’t scare her. “Don’t make me wait, Lake.”

She didn’t answer, but she stopped trying to push me away. Still holding her open, I tasted her. She responded so quickly, squirming under me, that I had to slide my hands around her thighs and hold her in place as I gorged on her. Her tightening grip in my hair and the moans echoing through the room told me it was working. When her pussy was nice and slick, when it got more pliant and metallic-tasting, I pulled my mouth up and continued on my way, kissing down her thigh until she was forced to release my head.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked.

“The first few times I make you come, I want it to happen on my dick. After that, you can come any place you like.”

“These aren’t the first few times you’ve made me come,” she said. “I’ve lain in my bed at my parents’ house and orgasmed just touching myself while I thought about you.”

I groaned with my mouth on the inside of her knee, noting with interest that the closer she was to orgasm, the bolder she grew. I still had plenty of skin to cover—toes, ankles, calves, and more—but my erection was getting painful. Holding the underside of her knee, I stood and hooked her ankle over my shoulder. I ran my hand up one of her legs, along her thigh and then right into heaven itself, pumping two fingers inside her.

I flashed back to my time in solitary confinement when I used to lie on the floor, overcome with guilt and remorse when I couldn’t force away the fantasies any longer. Lake on her back for me . . . welcoming me inside . . . begging for me, only me. Young and tight and willing. My heart pounded as I wet my thumb with her own juices and massaged it over her clit. “You have no idea how good this feels for me,” I said.