Page 15 of Forget Me Twice

I hiss at him, “No wrinkles, asshole.”

“I’ll be good,” he laughs against my ass, a reminder that Rhett and I are much darker and way more primal in the way we normally come together than we’ve been on this lazy Monday morning.

Rhett Orbison is a purely sexual being, and so far the only lover who hasn’t questioned my need to continually explore limits in a bid to chase a higher, more prolonged pleasure effect. It’s not always a sure thing for a guy in a club to drunkenly agree to depraved sex acts with some girl they’ve just met. I find it’s easier just to keep those particular encounters contained to good ol’ regular railings.

But with Rhett, I don’t know. It just feels easy. Uncomplicated.

Next time, it willhaveto be off-campus. That thought sends another tingle up the inside of my thighs.

Two fingers on his other hand trace lightly down the line of the lacy thong he’s just revealed. “A definite uniform violation,” he muses, his voice low and rough. He loves his roleplay. “Seems detention is not strong enough of a deterrent for you, Ms. Winters. I might have to think up a more fitting punishment.”

I don’t say anything as he slips those two fingers under the string and begins to stroke up and down. I can’t see what he’s doing, but the movement feels almost hypnotic. Instead, I focus on his groin in the reflection, his lap spread wide as he kneels behind me.

I watch as the bulge in his sweats really begins to tent, running my tongue slowly over my bottom lip.

It’s a magnificent sight.

Suddenly those two fingers are joined by Rhett’s nose. My hands shoot out to grip the wide mirror in front of me, fingers curling around the gold frame. He presses the tip firmly into the dampening crotch of my panties, and I instinctively tilt my hips back to meet him, a low groan escaping us both.

Inhaling deeply, he pushes up further into my pussy, already so wet and waiting in anticipation of his oral ministrations.

He places a gentle kiss before those teasing fingers push the scrap of material aside. “Christ, darlin’ girl, walking those prissy Academy halls with all this hiding under your fucking skirt,” he whispers against my slit, before his tongue starts a slow, torturous circle around my entrance, caressing and nuzzling, but without delving too deeply.

“Those high school boys won’t know what hit ’em.”

I rock forward onto my toes, my breaths becoming shorter the longer he teases. He’s still holding my skirt up with one hand, but soon the fingers of his free hand slide back in next to his wicked mouth to trace in further, infuriating patterns.

He runs them up and around my swollen lips, but never directly over my clit and only ever penetrating me for a moment at a time.

“Rhett, you fucking tease,” I cry breathlessly, but without real heat. The front of my skirt still shields everything from my view in the mirror, heightening every touch. I’m so turned on and wet, anxious for relief, that I can feel myself beginning to drip slowly down the inside of my thigh.

Rhett’s face must be a mess. The image of my juices flowing down his chin and neck has the beginning whispers of an orgasm starting to form, gathering like a mist. A dreamy smile creeps over my lips, replaced quickly by a defeated groan surging up my throat as the feeling ebbs away.

“I told you, Ms. Winters, you need to be brought to task,” he says as he pulls his mouth away, leaving just one thick finger to roll sensually through the mess he’s made, over and over. He dips inside, hooking it lazily towards the front so that he can now add torturing my G-spot to his growing list of punishable crimes.

My head rolls back in mock frustration, because I can’t bring myself to be mad that the fucker is edging me. Even just the promise of release has pushed enough happy chemicals into my bloodstream to start shutting my brain down.

I start to lose track of how long he continues this epic taunt, prolonging the way my senses drift and ride those fleeting crests of euphoria.

It’s such an indescribable thing to be able to switch off, even if only for a brief moment.

So freeing to relinquish all control.

And just…let go.

I breathe out, rolling my neck forward to face the mirror again. My muscles might be tense, desperately waiting for release, but my mind is still loose and untethered. That breath turns into an audible moan as Rhett finally goes in for the kill. He bends and sweeps that lone teasing finger up, a knuckle pressing abruptly against my overwrought clit.

A hair trigger could have sent me over the brink after being tortured so expertly. So it’s no surprise when the sudden pressure sends an intense shock of pleasure up through my pelvis and into my abdomen.

Rhett, bless him, replaces the finger with his tongue, then wraps two big hands around my thighs, gripping tightly right before my knees give out.

My moan this time is long and almost pained, my vision whiting out as the waves roll and pulse over my entire body. My forehead falls forward to press against the cool glass of the mirror, my sweaty palms slipping down the frame.

Rhett’s answering noises as I ride out the orgasm and fill his mouth are almost as obscene. He doesn’t break contact with my pussy though, just sucks and sips and laps my juices like a death row inmate devouring his last meal.

For a moment, I’m boneless and sated, floating in a thick lust fog. Then still in a daze, I remember that Rhett’s erection will be painfully hard. I twist on wobbly legs, my eyes drifting back down to his crotch, but it’s obvious I’m now too late to the party.

Some time between burying his nose between my cheeks, and my intense, knee-buckling release, Rhett has abandoned my skirt and pulled out his magnificent cock. He’s still gripping the shaft, cum already dripping over the top of his clenched fist as he continues stroking it slowly.

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