Page 11 of Sour Brew Face

I could have punched myself in the twat when I blurted that joke about his mom. He’d seem taken aback and genuinely concerned and I didn’t want to ruin the night. Thankfully, he was easily distracted by my body straddling his.

But then that plan had backfired when I kissed him, and the tsunami of pleasure washed over me urging me to ride him like a prized horse. In a car. In a parking lot. Where children frequented. I’m just glad I had enough will power and the presence of mind to stop us before we both creamed our pants. I’d rather do that when we’re in the comfort of a bed and I have a change of undies nearby.

“This was honestly, the best date ever. Unfortunately,” I can feel him stiffen next me when I start and I smile to myself, “now you have the unenviable task of trying to top yourself.”

With a snicker, he pulls me into the side of his body as we exit the building. “I’d rather top you.” His husky voice does things to me.

“That could be arranged, though, after seeing how you handled the bats in there, I’m not so confident in your ability to operate your own.” I screech in protest when he hauls me up and over his shoulder, his stride lengthening to get to the car quicker.

“I haven’t played baseball in probably 15 years!” He argues.

“Yeah, and I imagine you weren’t all that good then either.”

“You little shit!” he straightens me up in his arms and slowly slides me down his body, making sure to emphasize his personal equipment with a not-so-subtle thrust of his hips. “God, Mo, you are so fucking beautiful, it takes my breath away.”

“I’m trained in mouth-to-mouth CPR.” I roll my eyes at my own corny joke, but his smile grows, and he nods his head in encouragement.

On my toes, our mouths fuse together and it’s just as incendiary as our first kiss, if not more. My back hits the side of his car and he’s dragging my leg up to his hip, pressing into the space between my legs he’s just opened up. His cock twitches beneath the fabric of his pants, but I can feel it as if we’re skin to skin.

“I want you so much, Mo, like I can’t function for the thoughts of sinking deep inside you and never leaving.” His hips rock faster. His hand on my thigh tightens and he uses it to pull me impossibly closer. I can feel my climax building, picking up where we left off when I was straddling him in the car.

“Fuck me, Lang.” I beg him, unashamed at how much I need him right now.

“Not yet,” he says harshly against the skin of my neck as he kisses down my throat. “Not yet, but soon. Right now, you’re gonna cum for me just like this. Let me feel it.” Through the fabric of my bra and dress, his mouth zeroes in on my left nipple and he bites it. With a forceful thrust, his cock rubs my clit just right and I explode, biting his shirt at the shoulder to muffle the sounds as I break in his arms. Langston’s body shudders moments later and his rhythm falters, groaning as he joins me in release.

We’re silent as we catch our breath, the sound of crickets background music. He steps closer to me, our bodies flush against the car, his nose buried in my neck.

“You know,” he says lazily, “if I knew baseball practice ended like this, I probably wouldn’t have quit in the 9thgrade.”

20 minutes later, we’re kissing on my front porch. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

“I do, Mo, more than I can express. Which is why I’m not going to.”

I pout, “Your logic is not Earth logic.”

“I told you, I want to take my time with you. I…” He trails off, his hand gripping the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

“What?” I ask softly, wanting to hear what he has to say. Wanting to know everything about him. Which is scary.

“I see us spending a lot of time together, I want to…” he trails off again and I have a feeling I know what he means, but it’s too early to say something like that out loud.

“Me too.” I assure him and I see the tension leak from his face at my words. I kiss him again, chastely, and step back to open my front door. “Thank you, Langston, for a truly wonderful evening.”

“I work the next four nights, but we could meet for lunch, or you could come to the bar.” I like that he isn’t telling me he’ll call, he isn’t being vague about seeing each other again.

“We usually grab lunch around 12:30, so just let me know whatever day works for you. And Amelia texted me about getting together for drinks.”

He grins, reaching out to push some hair behind my ears. “My bar serves drinks.”

I grin back. “You don’t say?”

“I’ll see you soon, Mo, sleep well.”

“You too, Lang, good night.”

I close the door behind me and sink against it, my lips stretched wide and my stomach fluttering. This feels different than anything I’ve ever had. He feels different. The pinched sour face of his mother pops into my mind, but I push her away. Ain’t nobody got time for that, I think as I stand up and walk to my bedroom.

I intend to relive every moment of our intimacy in the comfort of my own bed with my vibrator and nothing is going to stop me.

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