Page 87 of Replay

Josh

Katie was giving me a chance. For the whole evening, there’d been something like a hovercraft under me. Not that I wasn’t touching the ground, but I felt a little floaty. This time I wasn’t going to mess things up. This time I’d be the best boyfriend anyone could be.

This time I wasn’t going to listen to everyone else. I’d told her everything, and we were okay.

When we got to her place and she hung up her coat, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and taste her mouth. And then taste other parts of her body. All of it. But while I didn’t want to get advice from people which could mess us up, I had to listen to Katie.

We’d had dinner and she’d invited me back, but that didn’t mean sex. Not necessarily.

“So, I was wondering…” How did I say this?

She turned and looked at me. We were almost close enough to touch. “You were wondering?”

“Why did you ask me back here? I don’t want to assume anything.”

“I want orgasms, Josh. Can you help with that?”

My heart stopped and my dick twitched. “Definitely.”

I dropped my head to kiss her. She tilted her face up and wrapped her arms around my neck as our lips met. Kissing Katie was just so good. She tasted a little bit of the wine we’d had, a little of the cool air we’d walked through, and a lot that was just her.

I tilted my head and she opened her mouth and I could stroke her tongue with mine. That hovercraft feeling was stronger, like I might drift away if I let go of her. But that was the last thing I was going to do.

I hadn’t known, back when we were in high school, that not all kisses would be like kisses with Katie. How do you know how good something is when you’ve had nothing to compare it to? Over the past five years I’d discovered it wasn’t easy to find what we had. Chemistry or pheromones or what the hell ever—everything we did was just so good. I knew now that was a gift, not something you found often. Maybe only once.

She pulled back, and I moved forward to keep our connection. She pressed her hands against my chest.

“Bedroom.” Her voice was husky and she was breathing hard.

So was I, even though I was in pretty good physical condition. “Absolutely.” I still had my arms around her waist so I lifted her up. She squeaked, then laughed, wrapping her legs around my waist and hanging on tightly with her arms. I remembered the way to her room and kept my lips busy on her neck and ears as I shuffled us to her bed, relishing every shiver that went through her body and every muffled moan I heard.

I tripped over something on her floor, but we were close enough to her bed that we landed safely.

“What was that move?” She laughed.

I looked back. “You left some shoes on the floor.”

“Sure.” I leaned up, ready to prove it to her, but she tightened her arms around me. “Do you really care what’s on the floor? I don’t.”

She had a point, but I wanted to make one too. I tugged us both closer to the edge of the bed and then slid down. I landed on my knees and moved her legs to surround me. She propped herself up on her elbows. “Are you interested in what’s on the floor now?”

She slapped my shoulder. “Seriously?”

“Do you want me to move?”

“Only if moving gets you closer to going down on me.”

And suddenly I didn’t care about the floor argument either. I shoved her skirt up her legs, exposing lacy panties. “Nice.” My voice was almost a growl as I traced her folds through the sheer black material with one finger.

“I planned ahead.”

I leaned down and ran my nose up and down her pussy, breathing her in, scenting her arousal. Me, it was easy to tell—my dick made my interest known. But women…that was trickier. And knowing I was doing it to her, that our kisses had turned her on, made me bigger, prouder—my chest expanding—and relieved.

I stuck out my tongue and ran it over the lace, over her. Getting a faint taste. I heard her mutter “Fuck” and then her body shifted as she fell back. I ran a finger over the panties again. Taking them off meant moving her, and I didn’t want to do that. But working on her with them on would limit my scope. Ripping them off would probably piss her off.

Despite being one of the shorter guys playing hockey, I could still work behind the net. So, tight space it was. I slid a finger under her lace, ran it up and down, then shoved the fabric aside and used my mouth.

There wasn’t a lot of room for my fingers along with my lips and tongue, but I did my best. She whimpered, and twisted, and then her hands locked into my hair, pulling my head close. As if I was going anywhere. I managed to get two fingers inside her channel, moisture slicking my way, and licked up to her clit and sucked on that.

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