Page 28 of Screwed (Dad Bod Contracting 4)
I glance at James’s eyes, see his need, but see also conflict.
His thumb continues its slow circuit around my clitoris.
My gut flips, my core throbs, my pulse pounds. I am afire with need—excruciating arousal slams through me, cranked higher and higher with each circle of the pad of his thumb.
And now, ohhhh god, now I have his cock in my hand. A huge, thick, soft, warm, iron-hard cock. A beautiful, perfect cock.
God, I love the way he feels, filling my hands.
I stroke him. Slowly. A sweet, achingly slow, greedy, needy caress of his length with both of my hands.
He gasps, a surprisingly quiet sound, and then he growls, a quintessentially James sound, a primal, bearlike rumble. His thumb moves, and my hips move with it. His right hand leaves my breast, travels downward to the waist of my thin cotton shorts, gathers fabric, and he yanks them down, roughly. Both hands, then, roughly, demandingly yanking my shorts down. I cling to his neck with one arm—refusing to completely relinquish my grasp of his cock—and I use his shoulders to lift my ass off the counter so he can yank my shorts down; I tug one foot free and wrap my leg around his buttocks, and he slips the bunched wad of shorts and panties off my other foot and now I’m utterly naked, totally naked, sitting on the cold laminate counter, and he’s touching me, a long thick middle finger dipping inside me, sliding easily through my wet lips and into my squeezing channel. His other hand is busily smearing in slow circles around my clit, and with a finger inside me and two fingers on my spasming clit.
I have him in my hands, both fists wrapped around him, sliding up his length and squeezing around the plump tip and twisting down, and I watch my hands, stare at the beautiful sight of a perfect male cock in my hands—for the first time in so long; and I want it and need it so much, feel such deep, cutting, ripping, fiery need, a desperation I haven’t felt in so, so long. Not since…
No.
NO.
I will not, cannot, shall not think of Craig, not now.
I focus on James, putting thoughts of anything else—anyone else out of my mind. I look at James, at his conflicted, hungry, aroused eyes.
I realize his conflict—he’s struggling with thoughts of someone else, too, and fighting to remain in the moment with me.
I gulp and writhe as he speeds his touch, and I change my own touch—one hand caressing in slow short strokes around his head, the other driving up and down the base in longer, faster glides.
His hips drive forward into my touch, and my own grind hard into the curling sliding movement of his finger and quick, slickly circling thumb. I stroke, he circles.
He grunts, I whimper.
His eyes lock on mine, and mine are on his, and then our gazes break and we watch our hands, and his lips slash across mine for a kiss, but we’re too breathless, too caught up in this together to spare thought for even a kiss.
Another deep whimper from my lips, a taut line stretching from my core to my lungs is pulled to such tightness that I cannot breathe, can only grind and writhe and gasp as his touch incites wilder and hotter fire.
Another tense groan from James, his hips pushing his cock through my fists. I feel him—I feel how tense he is, every line of his body, every muscle taut.
I no longer groan or whimper—My legs wrap around his waist and my forehead rests against his chest, my hands between our bodies stroking him faster and faster, his hands tangled between mine to circle my clit.
I writhe. I’m helpless. I’m lost. I’m toppling wildly over the edge, and as I shudder to the shivering cusp of cracking, crashing, crackling, I cling to his beautiful thick hard cock and I plunder his length fast and fast and faster.
“Oh fuck, James—” I groan, my voice hoarse, my breath locked in my throat, clenched behind my gritted teeth. “I’m coming, James. Please, please—oh god, please, James.”
I arch my back, leaning away from him, head thrown backward, eyes closed—a delicious wet hot tugging sensation rockets through me, and my eyes rip open to see James bent over me, mouth latched onto my nipple, and I’m stretched apart by his fingers, two of them slicking thick into my spasming, tightening, squeezing channel, his thumb rubbing madly around my clit, and his mouth slides to my other nipple and back, again and again, suckling my nipples to stretched points. His mouth is so wet, so hot, and his tongue lashes and his lips pinch and he sucks, suckles, licks, and his teeth saw not quite gently but not painfully around my erect flesh.
I come with a scream and a whimper, legs locked around his bare waist, my hands wrapped around his throbbing cock. I come so hard I weep, tears trickling down my cheeks, sob after sob ripping from me as I come and come and come and come, hoarsely sobbing.
