Page 74 of The Quarterback Sneak

Zach leans back onto the chez lounge, pretending he’s reading like before. Only this time, there’s one big difference. His fingers are still buried inside me, twitching every now and again.

My mom’s footsteps get closer, so I throw a book over my lap before she gets to the door. “Yes, Mother?” I say, trying to sound more bored than aroused, which is hard, considering Zach’s tickling me from the inside, and the only thing covering that is my textbook.

“I’ve got to go to the club to pick up some items for a charity drive.” When I look over my shoulder, she’s standing in the doorway. The only good thing about this situation is that she can’t see a thing from her angle. “Are you two going to be okay for a few minutes?” Funny, she’s never come to check on me before. “I won’t be long at all.” She emphasizes, and I almost laugh at how desperately she’s trying to sound like she cares when she hasn’t noticed the glaringly obvious tinge on my cheeks or the droplets of sweat on my brow.

I can see Zach is still focused on his book from the corner of my eye. The smallest of smirks plays across his lips, and he shifts his shoulder, purposely digging his palm into my clit. I sit up a little straighter, hoping my mother hasn’t noticed. “Sure, Mother. That’s absolutely fine,” I squeak out.

“Once I’m back, we can have after-dinner drinks in the parlor.” After-dinner drinks in the parlor? I can only imagine what Zach is thinking. He’s probably never hung out in a parlor before, let alone had after-dinner drinks in one. She makes us sound so rich and snobbish.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sanderson.” Zach looks over his shoulder, giving my mom an innocent smile. What a suck-up. He’s acting like he doesn’t have his hand buried inside her daughter. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to head home soon due to prior commitments.”

My eye twitches at his use of that stupid word again.

“No problem, dear. Football season keeps you busy, after all.” She gives him a predatory smile, and Zach takes the opportunity to stroke this little spot inside me, sparking all the neurons in my brain. I whip my head forward and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to moan.

Finally, my mother leaves, and counting her steps is torturous. When I know she’s gone for good, I turn to Zach, who’s still reading his damn textbook. Here he is acting like nothing’s happening while he spoils my panties.

“Zach,” I draw out.

“Yes, Turtle?” His voice is measured and casual, and he hasn’t bothered to look up, but I know he’s doing it on purpose because he circles his palm around my clit, creating the most delicious friction that makes me shift my hips.

When he finally rears his head back enough to look, he withdraws his hand and places it on the edge of my thigh. He takes his hand away and I feel disappointed and empty. That can’t be it. I need more. “What are you doing?”

He says nothing, just shuts his textbook and places it on the floor. His eyes flare with intensity, and his jaw flexes. The determination on his face reminds me of when he’s on the field. All focus is on me and what he wants to do.

“You know what I’d do to you right now if you were my girlfriend?” His voice is low and feral, and I shift away, wanting a better view. Shaking my head furiously, I clench my teeth, trying not to show how hot he’s making me because I don’t want him to know he has the upper hand.

He looks over my shoulder to the edge of the chez lounge. “I’d tip you back to the edge of this seat and eat your pussy until your mom came home.”

I swallow. My panties are ruined, and he knows it. It’s the only thing I’ve never done, but the one thing I want to feel more than ever.

“Do it.” I don’t hesitate in the statement because I’m confident I want this. We’ve experimented enough. I want him to make me feel everything.

Zach grips my hips, slowly guiding my back down to the soft velvet fabric of the chez lounge. My head dangles from the seat, and my hair spills onto the floor. My chest is high in the air, and my legs are spread wide. All I can think is that I hope this lives up to the fantasy he outlined earlier.

He flips up my skirt and pulls my panties down without hesitation. Without warning, his hot, wet tongue tickles my clit, and I gasp. I thought he’d kiss me up the leg first or tease me a little before, but he’s as hungry as me.

“Zach,” I whisper because it’s all I can get out. With the blood rushing to my head and warm hot heat circulating my center, I can’t think straight.

His lips suck me in, and he devours me, eating me out like a man possessed. I can’t get the words out to tell him this is the best experience of my life because the pleasure is all-consuming. His tongue flicks my clit over and over, and all that arousal has built back up again. Only this time, it’s a thousand times stronger.

I crush my eyes shut and hold on to the back of the chez lounge to keep from falling off. Just then, his tongue stills, and my eyes bug open. “Why’d you stop?” I cry, lifting my head just enough to see his smirking face watching me.

“Unbutton your shirt and play with your tits,” he commands, so casually I have no other option but to do as he says so he getsback to licking me. Slowly, I unbutton my oxford shirt, revealing my light-blue lace bra underneath. Then I pop my breasts out of the fabric and play with the hardened nubs, throwing my head back over the edge to focus on the sensation.

His body moves down, and his hands drag up my thighs, intensifying the ache around my center. With one hand, he opens me up, and with the other, he pushes two fingers inside me. “Oh shit,” I say breathlessly, opening my legs wider.

His breath tickles my clit before his tongue joins in. My legs feel numb, and I’m lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. I can’t breathe because it all feels too good. I stop playing with my nipples to grab Zach’s hair, making sure he can’t leave this time.

My body warms with tingles, a wave of pleasure builds, and just as he increases the flicks of his tongue, I know I’m done for.

“Zach, I’m coming.” I get it out right before a scream of pleasure leaves my throat and my hips convulse toward his face. He holds them down, letting me ride out my orgasm on his tongue.

As I lie there, feeling faint because I’m still upside down, Zach leaves a little kiss against my center before flipping my skirt and gently lifting me. When our eyes meet, he smiles, licking his lips. “Honeycomb.”

“What?”

“That’s what you taste like. Honeycomb, just like I imagined.” My cheeks flame at the implication, and when he licks his lips, the numbness in my core starts to subside.

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