The One Month Boyfriend (Wildwood Society)

“Sorry,” she says, and then she’s lurching forward, legs coming off the arms of the chair, and she leans down and kisses me, her hair falling in a curtain around my head.

I groan again. I haven’t even wiped my mouth off but Kat doesn’t seem to care, just finds my tongue with hers and leans in more, steadying herself on my shoulder before suddenly sliding off the chair and landing half on my lap where I’m still kneeling, dressed except for the fact that my dick is in my hand and hard as fuck.

“Oh,” she says, and laughs.

Then she wraps her hand around my cock, and I make a noise. It’s rough and low and loud as all hell, and when I make it I grab one of her thighs in each hand where they’re spread over me, and I hold on.

“Shh,” she says, and I swear to God she’s laughing.

“No,” I grit out, just in time for her to put a hand over my mouth, and I moan against it.

I don’t last long before I’m pumping myself into her hand with every stroke, groans muffled. I barely cover myself in time before I come, coating our fists and gasping raggedly against the hand that’s still over my mouth, the edges of my vision prickling white.

After a moment, Kat takes her hand off my mouth, and the second she does I kiss her. It’s less frantic now but soft and deep, broken apart by the fact that neither of us can catch our breath. When it ends I rest my forehead against hers and for one more second, I ignore the mess I’ve made and the fact that my knees feel like hell, and I just… bask.

“Yeah?” I finally ask in a whisper.

Kat huffs out a laugh, and her other hand strokes my hair, gentler than I’ve ever felt it.

“Yeah,” she says.