“I always wondered what it looked like in here. I guess I thought maybe you guys were hoarders since you never let me inside.”
I laugh. “I would’ve let you in if you’d asked.”
“Did you ever come into my home?”
“No,” I say, though I’d pictured what her room looked like a million times.
“I’m surprised it’s still up for sale. It was a nice place. I miss it.”
The way she says it, so longingly, makes my heart sink for her. She never came back after her mom took her to California. I watched for her. Late at night, when I would hear cars outside, I would jump up to see who it was, hoping I’d see her walking into her old home. But it never happened. After her dad died, it was horribly quiet at a place that used to be so alive to me.
“Come on,” I say, and lead her upstairs to my room. I could have moved into the master bedroom downstairs, but it felt weird to move into my parents’ old room, so I kept mine upstairs—minus the Spiderman sheets and posters of video games on the walls. Now it just looks like your typical bachelor pad, everything black or white. Nothing on the walls.
I lead her to my room. I’m oddly nervous. We’ve been through this, but this is different. This will change everything. I turn toward her, thinking of how this should start. I’m not normally a nervous person. If anything, I can be over-confident at times.
Turns out, I don’t need to think much because she’s already pushing me toward the bed, making the first move. She kisses me long and slow. Her hands are on my chest and then they’re taking off my shirt. Her fingers slide across my skin, her eyes hooded and hungry.
“You have an incredible body. You’re so different than what I remember,” she says.
I know what she means, but I pretend offense. “Was I so bad before?”
She giggles. “Of course not. But you were a boy then. You’ve become such a beautiful man.”
The way she says is, so full of awe and wanting, gives me the boost of confidence I need. I grab her and pull her into my arms. Her arms wrap around my shoulders and her legs around my waist. I run my fingers through her hair and press my lips against hers, hard and fast. Her mouth opens, inviting my tongue in. I love the taste of her mouth, so sweet. Her tongue is soft and flirts with mine in the most delicious way.
I put her back on the bed so I can strip her clothes away. While I’m pulling off her top, she’s unbuttoning my jeans and boxers. I shimmy out of them and pull her skirt up to her waist and her panties to the ground.
My hands cup around her generous ass, squeezing and kneading. I reach between her legs. She’s already wet. She lets out a soft whimper that brings out the animal in me. My hands linger over her body, taking in every curve, every freckle, every scar. I get to enjoy her in a way that I wasn’t able to during our encounter at the bar. The lights are on, I see everything, and it’s a glorious sight. All that flesh, all that beauty, waiting for me, and I plan to touch every inch of it.
I start with her breasts and work my way down until I’m in the spot I’ve been hungering for since our first time. Soft and wet, I lick the delicate entrance of the most perfect pussy I’ve ever seen and felt. Being inside her was like being held by a cashmere glove making a tight fist. I want so badly to be inside of her again, but I don’t want to rush this. There is plenty of time for that.
Getting off my knees, I lay on my back. She climbs on top of me with a sassy little smile. I think she’s going to straddle my waist, but instead she turns around with her ass to me and straddles my face. She starts to ride my eager tongue, gyrating her hips and moaning loud enough to the fill house with her sounds. I love hearing her, how much she enjoys my efforts.
She bends over, giving me a delightful view of her asshole as she takes my cock in her mouth. I almost come the second I feel her warm breath against my skin, but manage to hold back. She seems to have a hard time swallowing it down at first. As she finds her rhythm and allows her throat to open, she manages to take the whole thing. And holy shit does it feel amazing. I force myself not to think about how she got so good at it. All I want to think about is her, alone, with me. She’s mine now. There’s no denying our connection, and I’m done trying to force these feelings down. Maybe I loathed her once for what she did, but the closer we get, the more those old feelings evaporate and I realize Lina isn’t that girl anymore. It seems she’s grown up more than most of us. Maybe it took moving to California, where she was no longer the ruler of the school, to change her wicked ways. Or maybe her maturity came with age. I don’t know. But what I do know is I’m falling hard.