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“It was only the pillow!”

“ON FIRE!”

“I put it out in the sink.” I close my eyes, and my body starts shaking with laughter.

“You…naked…building super…fireman…thought you were tackle…Go long!” I dissolve into unintelligible sounds as I replay the disaster of our night a few days ago.

“I was trying to be romantic!” He growls, coming over me on the bed and covering me with his big body. He was trying and I greatly appreciated his effort. Romantic tea lights dotting my bedroom, the room aglow with their tiny flames. His dick in my mouth, my pussy on his, his fingers pinching my nipples…then behind my closed lids the room is suddenly brighter and hotter and on fire! One of the tealights was on the nightstand and in our haste to 69, we knocked a pillow askew and it lit up like the sky on the Fourth of July. Crue shoved me off and onto the floor, leapt up and grabbed the flaming pillow and ran naked into the bathroom while the fire alarm blared.

My super knocked on the door frantically, smelled smoke, and unlocked the door to make sure I was safe. I was safe, if not a little bruised from my tumble, and Crue greeted him buck nakedwith a charred pillow in his hands and a charming smile. My man is not shy about his body, and I was too busy covering myself to realize he was still letting it all hang out by the time the fire department showed up. I wouldn’t change a single fucking moment of that night though, because one of the firemen looked Crue up and down and said, “You sure do golongfor an offensive tackle, don’t ya, boy?”

Of course, Crue being Crue, spread his legs, put his fisted hands on his hips, and preened. I took one of my non-ash pillows and hit him with it after I was dressed. The super and the fire department had a good laugh, and he reminded me that candles are prohibited in our lease for a reason.

My chuckling dies down, and I sit up on my elbows, bringing our mouths closer together. “Ok, I’m sorry. What were you thinking about that involved the new mirror?”

“Hmm.” Crue ducks his head into the curve of my neck and sucks on the thin skin. “I love being inside you. And I really love fucking you from behind, watching that big ass jiggle and feeling it cushion me with every thrust.” Yes. Yes, that is quite nice. I bring my legs up and cinch them tight around his waist, riding the ridge of his erection with my jean-covered pussy. “Problem is…I can’t see your tits. It’s a travesty, Phia. A cruel joke to be honored with a woman like you and I can’t enjoy every part of you at once.”

“Mmhmm. Travesty.” He lifts his head, and I attack his mouth, trying my best to lick his tonsils. He pulls back, breathing heavy, dodging my attempt to reconnect our mouths. I settle for sucking on his neck, letting my hands run down his back to his athletically toned ass. I squeeze his glutes and pull him deeper into the vee of my legs.

“Then it came to me! The mirror. Ta-da!” Jazz hands mid-dry humping is not sexy, but I’m too far gone to care. “Modern problems require modern solutions. I’m nothing if not a problem solver.”

“A sexual MacGyver. Let’s try it out.”

“FAMOUS PERSON! IT’S A FAMOUS PERSON!”

I screech in frustration when his phone blares from his back pocket. That’s his ringtone for Andres Cockblocking Abbott.

Crue offers me an apologetic closed smile and scrambles to answer. “Hello?” He’s close enough I can hear their entire conversation.

“Crue, it’s Abbott, how are ya?”

Crue grins down at me, “I’m good, sir. How are you?”

“I’m doing quite well, thank you. Listen, I was hoping you and Phia might be available for dinner tonight?”

“Sure, yeah, that’s good. What time?”

“Well, that’s the thing, can you be at the steak place on Allen Street in a half hour?” I pull a pillow over my face so he can’t hear me laugh. Crue looks so dejected.

“That’s no problem. We’ll see you there.” He hangs up and tosses his phone to the side, collapsing on top of me with a groan. “So close. So fucking close.”

Pushing at his shoulders, I force him to sit up so I can cup his stubbled cheeks. “Let’s put a pin inthis.” I wave between our lower halves.

His lips push out in a pout that shouldn’t be adorable on a 21-year-old college football player. “I’d rather put my peen inthis.” He grinds his cock against me.

I snicker and moan, but manage to tell him, “We’ve got all the time in the world, Crue.” I swallow hard, “We’ve got a lifetime to right all the wrongs of sexual limitations.”

His expression softens. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Crue caresses my right cheek, dragging his fingers down my neck, circles one nipple protruding through my bra and shirt, then pinches it hard and jumps off the bed with a boyish chuckle. He’s too quick and my foot misses his ass in retaliation.

“Let’s go, woman! Famous people wait for no one!” He glances over his shoulder as he opens my closet, half filled with his stuff. “Not even someone with epic tittage!”

“How about alongoffensive tackle?”

Crue snorts, turns back to the closet and starts sifting through for something suitable to wear to one of the only fancy restaurants near campus. “I have a big dick.”

Phia 14.

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