“I… I need to finish packing,” I pant. I need ten minutes to pull myself together and stop acting like a horny schoolgirl.
Nathan gives me a slow, sexy smile as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Okay, you finish packing, and I’ll take a shower.”
Nathan… naked in the shower. “Okay, sounds good,” I squeak, my voice is high and sounds like a mouse. Oh hell…. shut up, now. I jump down from the counter, and with one more kiss, I make my way into the bedroom and stare at my open suitcase.
My lips are tingling from his touch, and I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations that are running though my body. It’s been a long time—two years—and now it’s going to happen with my best friend? No wonder I’m in a fluster. This is a lot to digest.
So unexpected and yet, it feels so natural.
I hear the shower turn on, and I go to the mirror to stare at my reflection. My hair is a mess and my face is flushed. But other than that, I’m surprised I look the same when everything feels so different.
“Just finish packing, will you?” I whisper to myself. “Have your meltdown later.”
I get back to my jobs and tick things off my list. An hour later, I walk out into the living room to find Nathan lying on the couch, watching television. He has my big, fluffy blanket over him. He smiles over at me and flicks the blanket back as an invitation to lie in front of him.
Oh hell…. here we go.
I force a smile and climb in under his blanket. I face the television, and he wraps his arms around me from behind, dropping a kiss to my temple.
“What are we watching?” I whisper.
“The game.”
We lie for a while, and his hand slowly floats up and down my body. Goosebumps follow his fingers. He begins to kiss my neck, and my eyes close from the pleasure. His fingers roam up underneath my tank top and over my breasts, and I can feel his erection growing behind me as it presses into my behind. He rolls me onto my back, and instinctively, my legs open. His fingers drift over my panties, lowering down to my sex as his eyes hold mine.
Back and forth, back and forth, and I can feel myself getting wet as his kiss turns passionate. Our tongues thrash against each other’s.
We kiss and, as if he’s unable to help it, his hand goes down the front of my panties.
Oh God, this is it.
With his eyes locked on mine, his fingers slide through my wet, swollen sex, and his body clenches in appreciation.
“Fuck.” He moans in an unrecognisable voice.
I can feel his cock as it becomes nearly painful hard against my hip. He slides his thick fingers through my sex once more, and his mouth hangs open, as if he’s unable to control himself.
“Can I see?” he breathes. “I have to see.”
We pant as we stare at each other, and I nod, understanding where he’s coming from.
This is so new to him. He needs to see it with his eyes.
He sits up to lift my tank top over my head before he sits between my legs. He slowly slides my panties off over my hips and inhales heavily as his eyes roam over my sex in awe.
I close my eyes.
This is too much. The intimacy is just too much.
He lifts one of my legs and puts it up on the back of the couch, and then with his eyes locked on my sex, he slowly slides his fingers through my swollen lips.
“So wet,” he breathes.
I nod, unable to form a coherent sentence.
He slides them through again and then parts my lips. His eyes drink in every inch of me.
“Pink,” he murmurs to himself.