47. Reese

I’m actually not very tipsy.

Lightly buzzed, shall we say.

But I am extremely horny.

And as sweet as it is that Skyler’s being responsible, I’m about a minute away from ripping his clothes off.

I could argue that I’m not drunk, but I can’t really think of a way to do that without sounding drunk.

Creativity is required.

And courage.

I’ve got my back against the headboard and my legs spread in what I hope is a sexy way and not a doctor’s exam way.

And Skyler is just staring at me. I’ll lose my nerve if I wait any longer. Closing my eyes, I let my head tip back a little and slide my hand back inside my panties.

I wish it was his hand slipping under the fabric, his fingers lightly brushing over my clit. But knowing he’s here, watching, adds a thrill that’s surprisingly delicious.

I hear a rustle of fabric and look up to watch Skyler tossing his shirt aside. He’s looking at me with naked desire and that sends a fresh wave of tingles through my middle. He drags his zipper down and kicks his jeans and boxers off.

His erection juts out from his body, so hard it bobs up against his torso.

We’re doing this.

I start to sit up.

“Stay there.”

His voice is a low rumble.

I relax against the pillows, watching him climb onto the bed. He settles onto his knees opposite me.

I struggle out of my panties, kicking them off, before letting my legs hook over his spread thighs. It would be really, really nice if he would just lean forward a little bit and sink that big, hard cock into my wet pussy. But he’s settled back on his haunches and looks as solid as a mountain. I watch transfixed as his hand circles around his cock and he starts tugging on it.

It’s different from the way I touch him. Faster, harder. His gaze trails down my body, fixating on my pussy. I slide my fingers through my folds, dipping them in to withdraw wetness. He squeezes his eyes shut, tortured, before meeting my gaze.

I push my bra down, drawing his attention upwards. And while his gaze is on my exposed breasts, I send my finger over my clit. I’m sure I touch myself differently than the way he touches me. But that’s because I’m usually trying to get to the point. When he does it, it’s slow and tender. Or sometimes, fierce and hungry. But it’s always good, always a surprise.

I’m remembering the last time we were together in Cody’s guest room. I’m not saying he’s got a magic cock that’s ruined me for the rest of time. But he’s set the bar pretty fucking high for what sex can be. Remembering the feeling of his cock moving inside me, his lips on my neck, my pussy starts to clench. I rock my hips, wanting to close my legs, wanting to shy away from it, but he’s got them locked in place.

I whimper at the sweet tension, opening my eyes to see a similar expression of torture on his face. He’s gripping himself hard now, the veins on his forearms stand out.

“Come on me, baby.”

I raise my eyes to meet his. “Just like last time. I want to feel your cum all over my skin.”

He groans, hooking his arm around my thigh as he jerks himself off. My fingers draw quick circles over my clit, teasing and torturing myself, feeling a climax building and building.

I wanted him to come first, but my orgasm sneaks up on me. My body raises up, bucking against the bed. My hips twitch and tremble as pleasure pulses out from my center. As the sensation fades, I let my hips sink to the bed. The tension and stress melts away and I’m left feeling floaty and content.

His hold on my thigh tightens and then, with a muted groan, the first rope of cum lands on my stomach, pooling in my belly button. It’s fascinating to watch the way pleasure pulses from his body, the way his chest rises and falls in quick, shaky breaths. I reach out and run my fingers up the forearm that holds my thigh. He releases my thigh, taking my hand instead.

Our gazes meet and there’s an intense emotion there that’s almost hard to look at. I want to shy away, to hide. But I couldn’t if I tried.

I’m caught.

Hooked.

I didn’t want to be hooked though, right? It was freedom I was after.

Seems like love and freedom are diametrically opposed.

I just hope it doesn’t pull me apart.