All I know is there’s an ache in my chest which could rival my balls, and I’ve never felt anything like it. The newness of it burns through me, but then Emily moves against me, pressing herself against my aching dick, her pert breasts pressing into my chest, her lips claiming mine, and I lose it—the ability to be rational and feel fear about what this could mean for me.
All I know is there isn’t anything fake about what we’re doing.
This is real. Our arousal, our bodies, the connection.
Suddenly, a sharp crack somewhere in the house breaks us apart. Emily leaps from my lap, but her legs get caught on the couch. She bites down on a scream, so all that comes out is an astonished gasp as she plunges backward over my knees. I quickly catch her flailing hands, such that she’s hanging upside down, bent over backward.
“Oh my god.” I carefully lean forward and set one hand on her neck while I take both her hands in my other hand and gently pull her up. “Are you okay?”
“Holy guacamole, that was the AC. It sometimes makes that noise. It’s terrible. Like a freaking gun shot. I need to get it looked at as it scares the bejesus out of me every single time.”
I can see the doubts swimming in her eyes, but when I lean in though, she doesn’t pull away. And when our lips meet, there isn’t any hesitance. I cup her waist and stand, lifting her easily and cradling her to me so that there isn’t a repeat of the backward cartwheels. She cups my face between her warm palms and kisses me eagerly.
“Down the hall,” she pants. “Stairs…bedroom is…”
The only word that registers with me is bedroom.
I stiffen, but only because I want to make sure Emily truly wants this, but she digs the heels of her bare feet into my ass and rasps against my lips, “Please. God. Now. Yes,” wriggling against me again so that my brain malfunctions and I have zero control left.
I find the stairs and climb them. I even manage to take Emily’s directions as she steers me silently with her foot pressing into my bottom because I’ve claimed her lips again. I find the bedroom too and push open the door. It looks bedroomy. Well, there’s a bed, at any rate. And some dressers, nightstands, blinds at the two windows—just the regular.
There are a few pieces of clothing on the floor. But not enough. Not enough, because ours are still currently on. When I set Emily down on her bed, she whimpers, and her hands cling to the front of my shirt as she tries to tear it from my body. I start working the buttons undone, and she watches me intently. I watch her, too, as my fingers fly.
This isn’t like my other experiences. This is…this is the first time in my life that I have a feeling in my gut that I’m going to give something away here. Something I didn’t truly understand I had until now.
With an impatient grunt, Emily reaches up and frantically helps me with the rest of my buttons. Then, I shove the shirt away and lean down over her. She wraps her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, and tugs so hard that my feet come straight off the floor. Luckily, I catch myself with an elbow and my lips—my lips on Emily’s. Our mouths meet, and our tongues clash wildly, consuming each other. Emily strains against me. She wriggles, and her dress rides up. When she finds her spot, she grinds deliciously against me.
And I swear my entire life flashes before my eyes.
I guess that’s what happens when all the blood rushes from every extremity in my body and ends up straight in my dick. It’s quite dangerous, actually.
I guess there must be something left that my brain is running on, or maybe it’s just autopilot because my hand moves, sweeping Emily’s dress aside. I cup her breast, and she arches up and moans out something muffled against my lips.
I find delicate lace beneath the dress, and my balls clench up. They’re probably three times more purple now than they were a second ago. I sweep my thumb under the lace and find Emily’s nipple hard and perfect. Breaking the kiss, I lower my head and taste the sweet perfection of her nipple.
“Oh my god,” Emily gasps as she threads her hand through my hair and pulls violently. “God, Asher, yes…”
I ply the straining bud, suckling it into my mouth and scraping it gently with my teeth. Emily thrashes beneath me. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much joy of doing anything, and we’re still dressed here. Kind of. I lick Emily’s breast, straying from her nipple as I taste her all over. Her skin is sweet, with just a hint of salt, and I’m reminded of chocolate caramel sea salt fudge. I don’t have a weakness for sweets, but I do have a weakness for that.