Page 30 of One Timer With A Wingman

His hand moves back and forth, rubbing my clit.

“Permission granted.” I lean into him first and our lips lock. A hunger unleashes between us. It doesn’t make sense, but it feels like an uncontainable fire. I need closer to him; I need him to rub me faster. I reach down and fist his cock and begin to pump. His fingers move faster over my clit.

“I should grab that condom,” he says, breaking the kiss.

“You’re clean and I’m on birth control. What difference will it make now?” I reply. I know somewhere in the back of my head I should be more responsible but when he’s touching me like this, all reason escapes me. He lifts me up by my thighs and I squeal. Then I wrap

my legs around him and he lowers me. I use my hand to guide his cock inside me and as he enters me we both moan together. The feeling is glorious.

“You’re so tight and wet,” he notes before his lips are on me again. The fire licks between us like an uncontainable beast. It wasn’t the alcohol last night. It was Aaron. I bounce on his cock. He holds on to my ass and his legs are strong enough that he can thrust into me hard and strong.

He is grunting and cursing while I moan. “Shit, I’m going to come again.”

“That isn’t a bad thing.” He laughs and then he is pressing his cock inside me. I bounce harder, squeezing him tighter. I go off like a rocket driven by the hunger of my orgasm, fed by the clench inside me that won’t satiate. The need to have him rub me harder, pound into me stronger. When he comes it sets me off more. His deep husky grunts. The way he loses control has me feeling unhinged. When we both come down from our high, he slowly lowers me and hangs on to the wall for a minute to catch his breath. We wash up quickly and I head over to the sink wrapped in a towel to brush my teeth.

“I know you think this should be one night, but we have two more nights here. It can be our little vacation fling,” he suggests while I am awkwardly brushing my teeth. I don’t even know what’s happening. I’ve never experienced sex like this before.

“Okay,” I say, my tone too high-pitched and awkward. I rinse the toothpaste out from my mouth.

“I’m going to head back to my room and get dressed. I’ll see you in five,” he says.

“You don’t need to wait for me to head down to the lobby.”

“That’s not how this little fling is going to work, Buttercup. You’re mine until we touch down in Michigan.”

I wonder where that will leave me afterward.

“Okay,” is all I manage to say. I think he fucked me stupid.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Aaron

Before last night, I have never had sex without a condom. I could’ve sworn I put it on after I got up to take it out of my jeans, but I must have been lost in the ecstasy or maybe the anticipation of having Briar riding my cock. All I know is that it’s been the best sex of my life. I can’t explain what’s happening. Briar is stubborn, she seems to overthink everything, she’s gorgeous, her body is incredible, but it’s more than all those pieces combined.

This girl has me unhinged. I don’t know if I like that but I feel helpless to stop it. Thinking of her bouncing on my cock in the shower with her pert nipples rubbing against my chest has me growing hard again. This no using a condom is addictive. No, it’s Briar’s pussy that has me acting like a damn addict.

Back in my room, I get dressed in a pair of Dri-Fit shorts and a T-shirt. I brush out my hair and put on deodorant. I grab my wallet and key card and head back to her room. We have another forty-eight hours on this trip. I plan to milk my time with her.

I knock on her door and wait for her to open. She’s wearing a pair of short khaki shorts, a white tank top, and her caramel hair is up in a tight ponytail. She places a fanny pack across her shoulder.

“All ready. Taylor texted. They booked some buggy thing for today. She told me to wear closed shoes and to put on a bathing suit.”

“I guess I’ll be swimming in these shorts if I need to,” I say.

We head down in the elevator and she’s quiet. “Briar, I don’t want you closing down on me because of the sex.”

“I’m feeling shy,” she admits.

“You have nothing to feel shy about,” I assure her.

“I’ve never, you know. . .”

“Orgasmed so many times before,” I finish the sentence.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” She states.

I laugh. There’s my little spitfire.

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