Girls Playing With Fire 3 Page 4

  “You can cross this off your list.”

  Without a word, he reached out, grabbed my hips, and pulled me roughly toward him. I ended up squeezed between his thighs while his lips crashed into mine.

  “Wanna see you too,” I said excitedly. “Wanna see all of you.”

  “Quid pro quo?”

  “Oh, baby, speak Latin to me,” I managed to say between ravenous kisses.

  That rich warm laughter shook his chest. It made me incredibly happy to hear him laugh. He tangled a hand in my hair and mellowed the ferocity of his kisses.

  “Clothes,” I demanded, breathless and dizzy from his kisses.

  “You should have negotiated before,” he said, running his hands over my back, squeezing my buttocks, kneading my flesh. “Now I have no incentive to-”

  “Bona fide?” I tried.

  He pulled his head back to look at me but his gaze soon swept down, and his voice lost its crisp tone, almost drawling toward the end.

  “I have plenty of good faith, but we didn’t have a deal. You just assumed-”

  “Seriously?” I snapped, trying to step out of his embrace. “You’re going to make me work for it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he growled, and his arms tightened around my waist, preventing my escape. “Gonna make you work. Work hard. So hard.”

  He was muttering inarticulately while his mouth explored my skin, from neck to collarbone to my tits. He fell silent when his warm mouth closed wetly around my nipple.

  “Fuck you’re good at this,” I whispered, as my knees went weak.

  The only thing keeping me standing were his strong arms.

  “How about the other thing on your list?” I asked.

  He lifted his head from my breast.

  “A bed?”

  I nodded. A bed, but not any bed. My bed. The one in which I fantasized about him for years.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “My room. Now.”

  “Yes, M’am.”

  That didn’t sound half bad. I kind of liked the idea of ordering him around a little. I decided to try my luck.

  “Carry me?”

  He picked me up so fast, I couldn’t help giggling in delight. I hanged on to his neck, nestling into his chest.

  We were already in the living room, at the bottom of the stairs when he asked. “On the left, right?”

  “Right,” I said maliciously.

  He looked at me in confusion.

  “Right?”

  “That’s right, on the left.”

  “Funny girl,” he muttered under his breath and rushed up the stairs.

  He paused in front of my door. I jumped out of his arms and opened the door. I could understand his uneasiness. This was the room where I spent my childhood. The room where Diane and I had sleepovers. I took his hand and led him gently inside.

  My tall four-poster bed never looked more childish Barbie-castle pony-princess like. Ivory curtains graced every post, tied with huge bows.

  “If you take off all your clothes, I’ll ride you cow-girl style until you come,” I said to distract his attention from the cute, fairytale look of the bed.

  “Sounds like a good deal.”

  I gave him a quick peck on the lips and jumped in bed. I lied on my belly, with my head propped up on my hands, and all my attention trained on him.

  He held my gaze when he unbuttoned his shirt. He draped it neatly over the back of my desk chair. He proceeded to take off his trousers, and arrange them just as neatly on the chair, careful to keep the crease intact. He stood there, in the middle of my cute room, beautifully naked, dazzlingly masculine. I stared at him with wide eyes.

  “Had enough?” he asked.

  I shook my head, but he came toward me. He turned me on my back and climbed on top of me. He was hard and when I spread my legs, his cock poked into my pussy. It took him a few blind thrusts to align with my entrance.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he said and took his cock in hand, moving it away from the place where we both wanted it to be.

  He got out of bed and rummaged in the pocket of his pants for a condom. He rolled it up his cock in a matter of seconds and came back. I was ready for him this time and I didn’t allow him to get on top.

  “A promise is a promise,” I said.

  Begrudgingly, he lied down on his back, his hard cock pointing up, hard, thick and inviting. I straddled him and began my slow descent. He was thick enough to make this uncomfortable for me, despite the ample lubrication.

  He was clutching at the sheets, his whole body tense with the strain of not moving. He was probably holding back the desire to pump up into me. We were both panting hard by the time I managed to take him all the way in. And that’s exactly when the phone rang.

  “Ignore it,” he said.

  It was late on a Friday evening. Whoever called him at that hour, it had to be important. It was either someone who mattered to him, like his children, or it was a serious work matter.

  He groaned when I unmounted him. I got his phone out of his trouser pocket and looked at the screen. It wasn’t Danny or Diane. I didn’t recognize the face or the name of the man calling. He cursed when I handed him the phone, but accepted the call.

  “Hey, Barry, what is it?”

  He propped himself on an elbow, but I pushed him back, and proceeded to climb on top of him again. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat when I started to lower myself on him again. To his credit, he managed to keep talking to that Barry person coherently for the couple of minutes it took me to impale myself completely on his cock.

  His speech faltered when I began to move up and down. I rubbed my middle finger in small circles over my clit, and that released a wave pleasure inside me. His latex covered erection was now coated in a layer of fluid that made it easier for me to pick up the pace. I threw my head back and closed my eyes to savor the way he filled me up so deliciously.

  “Sorry, Barry, I got to go,” he said and ended the call abruptly.

  He threw the phone to the side and gripped my waist in his hands.

  “That was a mean trick,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered without the tiniest regret.

  His hands dug deep into my flesh. He kept my waist in a vise-like grip, spread his legs, levered his hips up and started fucking up into me. The pace was unlike anything I could achieve. He was hard, fast and relentless. I fell forward, propping myself on my hands, hovering above him, and he kept fucking up into me. He made me come, and kept me coming while he chased his own orgasm.

  I collapsed on his chest after we came, then slid off him, into my bed.

  “That was amazing,” I said and closed my eyes for a moment.

  When I opened them again, it was pitch black outside. Next to me in bed slept a man, as naked as me. It hadn’t been a dream. It was real. He was here. Paul.

  He stirred in his sleep. I nestled close to him and he instinctively held me close. It felt safe and wonderful. I didn’t want to fall asleep again. I kissed his chest shyly, not wanting to wake him up. I hadn’t given him much of a chance to eat today, and if I didn’t let him sleep, he might not be able to go again. And again. And again.

  “Sarah,” he whispered.

  “Mmm?”

  He rolled on top of me without saying anything else, enacting to perfection my old fantasies. I was stuck in a place between dream and reality. Apparently, so was he. His heavy body pressed me deep into the soft luxurious mattress. He inserted a knee between my thighs and I eagerly parted them. His hardening cock found his way inside me. It slid easily in my tight, wet pussy and started growing bigger with each long, slow thrust. I lost any sense of the passage of time while he made love to me. The climax built up gently for both of us, and then the dream faded into a deep sleep.

  We woke up again after midnight, fresh and frisky. Paul brought the stack of condoms on my nightstand and we started to work our way through them.

  Ch
apter 7 – Saturday Afternoon

  The phone rang insistently. Paul reached over me and picked it up.

  “Your boyfriend’s calling,” he said.

  I yawned and turned away from the noisy little thing. I buried my face in Paul’s chest. The scent of him and the warmth of his body stirred my senses. Instinctively, I began kissing his skin.

  The noise stopped and Paul let himself fall back in bed. I followed him, continuing to nibble at his skin. I was slowly waking up, and with that my kisses took a downward trajectory. Just like me, his cock already showed signs of playfulness.

  “My boyfriend?” I asked, raising my head to look at him. “What do you mean my boyfriend?”

  I turned around and reached for the phone. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me on top of him.

  “I think you were doing something.”

  “Yeah, but who-”

  “It was your mother,” he interrupted me.

  “Why would you say…” My voice trailed off. My sleepy brain was struggling to figure out what had happened. “You were testing me? To see how I’d react?”

  He put an end to my questions with a long, searing kiss. We were both naked, in my bed, and I was lying on top of him. Sixteen-year-old me had touched herself many times in this very bed imagining something like this.

  He was growing hard, the outline of his cock becoming clearer against my flesh, pressing into my belly, smearing my skin with precome. Dreamily, I ran my hands over his chest. He growled, and his kisses became more forceful, his breathing heavier.

  Everything was so perfect, I wondered if I was sixteen and it was one of those shameful weekend mornings when I lingered in bed, touching myself, thinking of him, while my parents waited for me downstairs. The thought of my parents being there while Paul was in my bedroom sent an unwelcome chill down my spine.

  My mother had just called. What if she got concerned I didn’t answer and they would rush home sooner? I did not want to imagine what it would be like if they found Paul here.

  “You want to call your mother?” he asked, like he was a mind-reader.

  “How do you do that?”

  He rolled me over, and kissed my breast before answering.

  “You’re a good girl. You know she would worry if you don’t answer.”

  He kept kissing my breast while he spoke. My mind clouded with desire. His mouth switched from gentle, lingering kisses to passionate and urgent.

  “She can imagine I’m still asleep,” I said, and moaned when his mouth closed around my nipple.

  He sucked it greedily while his hand teased the other one.

  “It’s afternoon,” he said when he moved from one abused nipple to the other one.

  I tried to make sense of his words, but when he shoved his thigh between my legs, my thoughts crumbled away. I tried to rub my clit against his hard flesh and he obliged without hesitation.

  The phone rang again. I was awake enough this time to recognize my mother’s ringtone.

  He let my nipple slip out of his mouth with a wet pop. My breast glistened with his saliva. The sensitized nipple was dark pink and throbbed. I wanted his mouth on me again.

  “You should answer,” he said, looking up at me.

  His hair was deliciously tousled and his eyes were more black than green. He reached past me again and handed me the phone.

  “Answer it.”

  I took the phone with a weary expression. I thought I knew every nuance of his voice. What did that strange inflection mean?

  “Hi, mom,” I said, stifling a yawn.

  “Hi, honey. Were you asleep?”

  “Mmhm,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and stretching.

  “What did you do all night?”

  I could certainly not tell her the truth.

  “M-” I started but before I could finish the word movies, I felt Paul’s fingers open my pussy lips.

  He wouldn’t!

  “Movies,” I said shakily.

  He would. His tongue made contact with my clit when my mother said something.

  “Sorry, what did you say?” I asked trying to keep my voice level while Paul was lapping deliberately at my clit. “I dropped the phone.”

  “Are you ok?”

  “Yes,” I said tightly. “Why?”

  “I know I left the fridge empty. Did you manage all right?”

  “Pizza. I ordered pizza.”

  “Of course you did,” she sighed. “Honey, we’ll try to switch our flight to get there earlier.”

  I made an effort to understand her words.

  “N-no,” I exclaimed. “You don’t have to.”

  “When does your flight leave?”

  That was a very difficult question. My brain power was hijacked by the sensations radiating from my pussy.

  “I don’t know. But seriously, take your time.”

  Paul looked up at that with an arched eyebrow as if my words were addressed to him. I couldn’t help tipping my chin up in a challenging “do your worst”. In retaliation, he switched from licking to sucking at my clit, and inserted two fingers in me, looking for that spot he had mapped the day before. Fuck!

  “I’ll check and call you later, ok?” I managed to say in one breath.

  The jolts of pleasure were increasing in intensity and I knew I was seconds away from cresting. I held my breath until I heard my mom say ok and with the last remnants of self-control, I made sure the call ended before I allowed myself to pant loudly.

  “Oh, God,” I screamed when he pushed me past the brink.

  He looked up smugly at me.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sarah.”

  “You, bastard,” I whispered.

  “Complaints?”

  His voice was all silk again. I wanted to say something snarky, but I lost myself in his stormy-green eyes.

  “Come here,” I whispered, and reached for a condom from the nightstand.

  He shook his head when I offered it to him.

  “You do it.”

  He straddled my torso, presenting his hardening cock. I didn’t hesitate to wrap my hand around it and coax it into the iron-hard state I loved the most. I tore open the wrapping but I couldn’t take my eyes off his beautiful, throbbing cock. I raised my head off the pillow and took him in my mouth.

  “Oh, fuck, Sarah,” he groaned.

  With the little freedom of movement I had in that position, I started to bob my head. It was an awkward, stilted rhythm, probably as frustrating for him as it was difficult for me to maintain. I felt his hands in my hair, holding my head still while his hips moved. The thrusts were short and slow, but steady. He probed the depth to which he could sink in my mouth, but the position made it impossible to take him too deep. His orgasm built up unexpectedly and he pulled out of my mouth as he came. He sprayed his semen on my lips and it trickled down my neck.

  I licked my lips, eager to feel the salty taste of him again. I ran my hand over my face and neck, spreading his semen on my skin.

  That was a hell of a way to wake up in the morning. Or, in this case, in the afternoon.

  Chapter 8 – Sunday Morning

  We spent the rest of the day and the following night having sex and watching movies neither of us would ever remember.

  On Sunday morning, still in my bed, it was hard to ignore that our time together was running out. My parents were going to arrive that afternoon. I checked my phone. Three hours left. In an attempt to relieve my anxiety, I logged in my email account.

  “This is the longest I went without checking my email,” I said, amazed to realize that I hadn’t checked my phone since Friday morning. “Seriously. Longest ever.”

  He caressed my back lazily.

  “I’m flattered.”

  “You can be downright smug about it,” I said. “Because I’ve been waiting for-”

  I shrieked in delight when I saw the email from France. They wanted to make sure it was a tension-free experience so the
very title of the message contained the word “acceptance”.

  “I got in! Oh my God, I got it, I’m going to Paris,” I exclaimed, scanning the content of the message.

  Acceptance, schedule, various links to useful stuff. This was the best weekend ever!

  “What’s this about?”

  “I applied for a summer program in Paris. And I got in!”

  “When are you going?”

  “June. I can’t wait! Can you believe this? I got in! I have to text my mom.”

  “You could call her again,” he suggested.

  I shot him a knowing glance. Like I was going to risk talking to her again while he was anywhere near me. I sent her a message full of emoji and exclamation marks to tell her the good news and I put the phone back on the nightstand. It rang back almost immediately.

  Paul’s grin filled me with trepidation. When I didn’t reach out for the phone, he took it and offered it to me.

  “Afraid?” he asked challengingly, his fingers already trailing over my pussy.

  I pressed my thighs tightly together, trapping his fingers. He smirked defiantly.

  “Hi, mom,” I said, sounding less excited that she might have expected.

  To my relief and disappointment, Paul pulled his hand away. I started to chatter excitedly about the email when Paul rolled me over carefully on my belly. I turned my head to look at him, keeping my legs tightly closed. My eyes widened when I saw that he stroked himself to hardness and put on a condom.

  “We’ll be home in an hour,” my mother said.

  “What?” I exclaimed, shocked as much by what she said as by the sight of Paul’s erect cock diving between my ass cheeks.

  “…an hour,” she repeated.

  “Oh, that’s great,” I said. “See you soon. Love you!”

  To my relief, Paul’s cock slipped pass my tightly clenched hole and found his way to my hot, throbbing pussy. He slid confidently inside me. I was getting used to his girth, but this new angle was a whole different experience. He supported his weight on his arms, advancing boldly but without haste. Before the sensations overwhelmed me, I saw the tendons in his arms in sharp relief as he continued his controlled descent.