She makes a breathy sound, her bare tits heaving, and then the moaning starts. The hottest sound that has ever graced my ears. But out of fear of getting caught and separated from Grace, I drop my mouth over hers to capture the sounds, just as she comes in the palm of my hand. It’s the filthiest little orgasm from the most innocent girl. It steals my remaining breath. The way she grabs my hand, grinding down on it, rocking her hips and continuing to bury her tongue in my mouth, over and over, until I’m dripping semen down the leg of my sweatpants, her moan flavoring my throat.
“Can I lick it up?” I ask raggedly, breaking for air, already dropping to my knees. “Please?”
When I shove my face up beneath her dress, catching the moisture as it drips from her cunt, she whimpers and twists her fingers in my hair. “Yes. Yes.” She wraps one thigh around my head to give me better access and I worship her for it, worship her for letting me lap at her inner thighs like a thirsty animal—and maybe that’s what I am. A poor man licking up drops of gold from the rich girl. Taking anything he can get.
Finally, I’ve tasted every last drop and I walk forward, wrapping my arms around her hips, burrowing my cheek against her stomach. My cock is so full and heavy, it’s almost touching the ground, but I’m not burdening her with that. She’s given me enough. I’ve got the memory of her taste, the sound of her moaning for me, the feel of her mouth on mine. It’s more than a man like me could ever ask for.
A beep goes off somewhere inside the car and she whispers. “That’s my alarm for one a.m.” She slides down against the side of the car, so she’s crouching in front of the fighter she brought to his knees, physically and emotionally and every other way imaginable. Her mouth finds mine in a kiss that leaves our eyelids heavy. “You’ll still…call me?”
Stunned by my luck, I repeat her number back to her hoarsely.
She bites her lip to subdue a smile, collects her things from my car and disappears into what can only be described as a palace. Out of my reach in every way except for one.
Sex.
Is that going to be enough for me?
No.
Hell no it won’t. But what choice do I have?
Look at where she lives, this senior class president. This angel.
I climb to my feet and prop my hands on top of my Chevy, watching as the light goes on upstairs and she appears in front of the window. She stands there, watching me for a moment, then lets her dress drop, leaving her topless, the top of her panties visible over the sill.
Jesus. Jesus. I’ve just seen her tits up close, but there’s something about this that feels like permission. And I take it, blindly reclining the passenger seat, making as much room as I can in the footwell. Then I prop one foot outside the car, one inside, and fit my hips to the edge of the seat, sucking down her cherry cola scent and fucking the leather cushion violently. The car rocks and groans with every thrust of my hips, but I can’t stop. I watch her play with her nipples through the rear window, my thrusts accelerating until I come with a choked noise, right where she sat, right where those ass cheeks parted and her pussy plumped. Drenching the front of my sweatpants.
When I open my eyes again, her light upstairs is out.
And I drive home slowly, the obsession taking deeper and deeper hold.
No bottom in sight.
Five
Grace
I sleep late the next morning.
Normally on a Saturday, I would be up and out of bed by nine a.m., working on college applications or volunteering at our local animal rescue. But my body is boneless. So relaxed that I don’t even shift to find comfortable spots. I’m just plopped face down in the center, arms curled under my favorite pillow, a dreamy smile tilting my lips.
North.
Thinking his name makes me sensitive. Everywhere.
My thighs rub sinuously on the sheets, my nipples tender from his mouth.
Last night was the first time I’ve ever hooked up with a member of the opposite sex. I don’t know much about physical intimacy. But I know instinctively that none of the boys of my acquaintance could have done this to me. None of them could have talked to me like that, touched me with such precision and care…or been so animalistic afterward.
Can I lick it up?
I exhale roughly into my pillow remembering his face pressed between my thighs, his wet mouth reflecting the moonlight. Who knew I could be turned on by things like that?
No. No, it’s only with North.
It’s as though my body was waiting for him to arrive and turn the key in my ignition.