Menage (17 page)

We'd start slowly, holding hands on twice-weekly dates, with maybe a hug and a peck at the end of the night. Months would pass before we'd progress to petting above the waist with all our clothes on. We'd live for the sound of each other's heavy breathing, live for our stolen moments alone. Afterwards, we'd masturbate like fiends and
practise
Frenching
our pillows. Soon we'd be master tongue kissers, exercising our new skills under the stairwell at school, at the cinema, in the back of Joe's car. Or maybe Joe would forbid us the back seat.

He might consider having that much room too great a temptation.

Joe would worry about temptation. Going all the way would have to be my idea. Despite his rampaging hormones, I'd have to lead him step by step to this place, to the bed of his childhood, the bed where he'd had his first wet dream - dreaming of me perhaps. Had he clenched this pillow between his legs and pretended it was me? Had he thrust and groaned and left his hot young seed on the cotton that even now cradled my head?

I moaned at the image and his body shifted, restless with lust. His sucking slowed. I held my breath. As though he feared I'd stop him, his hand skimmed down my side to the crook of my knee. He massaged the tendon there, startling me with pleasure. Then he reversed direction, creeping up my thigh an inch at a time until he ruffled the curls that fringed my lower lips.

I twitched in response but didn't tell him to stop. Braver now, he parted the curls and began to explore, his movements tentative but thorough. The tip of his finger slipped into my sheath. He gasped when it clutched him.

Touch me,' he said against my dampened breast. 'Please. I'm dying to feel your hands on me. I've been dreaming about it since the first day of class. You wore that tight navy crew neck and the short plaid skirt with the pleats. I got hard the minute you smiled at me. You wound one gold curl around your finger, kind of shy, and I thought I'd melt. When you took the chair in front of me, I pretended I was under you, that you would slide right down on my dick. I remember you couldn't sit still and I wondered if you could feel me staring at the muscles of your calves. I wanted to crawl under your chair and bite one. Every time you squirmed I got suffer, as if I really were inside you. It wouldn't go down, either. I was hard all through Calculus and you weren't even there. I had to jack off in the men's before gym or the guys would have seen. I came so hard I thought I'd bust something.' His voice sank to a throaty rasp. 'I pretended you were doing it for me.'

'Like this?' I twisted my hand into his briefs so I could hold his velvety length, and ran my hand down his cock the way a girl would - a little nervous, and more than a little curious.

His body jerked. 'Yes. Oh, yes, slide it up and down. Ring it tight. I won't break. Yeah, that feels nice. Your hand is so soft. Oh, God, I can't believe we're really doing this.'

His breath came rougher as he suckled me, moving now to my second breast. He pulled me further into his mouth, circling me with the tip of his tongue, then laving me with the soft wet flat. The throb in my sex deepened to an ache. I groaned.

Tell me what you want, Katie. Show me what makes you feel good.'

'Here.' I captured his hand and guided his longest finger in a circle round my clitoris. 'Rub me here. Steady. Yes, like that, but a little harder.'

I whimpered deep in my throat as he caught the motion, my own motion, pushing and pulling the soft hood along the tender shaft. Having him do it felt so good, I had to breathe hard to keep from coming.

'You're slippery,’ he said, hushed with awe. 'You're wet and hot and I can feel your skin quivering. Does that mean you want me?'

'Yes.' I pulled his head up for a deep,
tonguey
kiss. 'I want you.'

He shuddered and his cock jumped in my hand. 'Say that again. Say my name.'

‘I want you, Joey.'

'Again,’ he demanded, then kissed me so hard I couldn't comply. I gasped for air when he finally released me. We stared at each other. He smiled, all boyish triumph and charm.

‘I love you,’ he said.

My jaw dropped. This time there was no mistaking the words. He sealed my gaping mouth with a kiss, this one a soft, swooning exploration. I found myself wanting to say it back: I love you, too, Joe. I love you. The words knotted in my chest like a physical pain. But how did I know what he felt today would last? Silenced by doubt, I held him tight, one hand steadying the back of his neck, the other stroking his cock. He gathered me closer, his body strong and sheltering, his caresses gentle. What had I done to deserve a lover as sweet as this?

Just say what you feel now, I told myself. Let tomorrow be. A moan slid through my throat, warming it for the declaration.

But, 'I'm taking off my briefs,’ he warned, before I could tumble over the fence.

He wrestled them off and settled back with a heartfelt sigh. His hips lifted. His hand fumbled between us, pushing the head of his cock down between my legs. It sprang up at once, caught against my pouting folds.

‘I won't put it in, I promise.' His buttocks clenched and hollowed as he shafted my vulva. 'I'll just rub up and down like this. Oh, God.' He gritted his teeth. 'Can you feel that, bare skin to bare skin? That is so good. I can feel everything. Lord, I wish I could slide inside you like this, with nothing between us. I've never done it, but with you - Can you feel it? Do you like it?'

I could only gasp and nod. His fingers slipped between us, parting my folds so that his long hot column slid directly over my clitoris. I clutched his buttocks to hold him snug. He laughed deep in his throat. 'You do like that. I want you to come for me. Can you, Katie?'

'Soon,’ I promised, hitching against him faster, harder. He bent to kiss me, swallowing my cries of excitement. His tongue flickered and probed. Sweat rolled down his neck. My tension wound higher. My thighs tightened on his narrow hips, mashing our curls together, ink and honey, until they rasped like static on silk. I half expected sparks to fly. 'Oh,’1 cried, gulping for air. 'Soon, soon. Don't stop.'

His strokes lengthened. The broad flare of his cock-head brushed my gate. It dipped inside for an instant, making me clench instinctively to draw him in.

'No,’ he gritted, sliding by more forcefully. 'I won't push it in. Just - Yes, do that again. Suck at me with your cunt. That feels so - You're so wet. The sound it makes - Oh, God, I'd kill to fuck you right now.'

He rubbed me faster, so fast the friction made its own heat. His
glans
flicked clit and sheath with every furious pass. He had my hips in a death grip. His teeth were bared in a silent snarl. The veins on his neck stood out. Lord, the sight of him made me hot. The train was coming. I could hear it chuffing, feel its rumbling vibration - down my spine, through my womb. My neck arched off the bed. I wailed at the unbearable tension. My nails bit his heaving buttocks, and then my climax broke in a long, shuddering wave that rattled me to the bone.

'Ah,’ I sighed, collapsing back against his prim navy coverlet. 'That was good.'

Joe kissed my forehead with more energy than I expected. His jaw was shaking. That's when I
realised
he'd held back his own climax.

'Don't move,’ he ordered, ignoring my whimper as he pulled away, taking all the heat in the room with him.

He backed off the bed, then stood at the foot staring at me with hungry gold eyes. I stretched, arms over head, showing off my sex-flushed curves, letting my thighs fall open. His cock strained upward from its thatch of black, shiny with my juices, dark with his blood. I ran my palms over and around my breasts, lifting them to his
slitted
gaze. He growled a warning. 'I've got to get inside you. I'm running upstairs but I'll be right back. You keep everything warm for me.'

'I will,’ I promised, and slid my hand between my legs.

The sight of me masturbating snagged him a foot from the door. His eyes widened, then grew stern. 'Thirty seconds,’ he said, and slipped out the door before I could distract him again.

As soon as he left, I leapt out of bed. I knew just what I wanted to do for him, but I didn't have much time. I rummaged through three drawers before I found his navy crew neck. The sleeves were too long, but other than that it fit. The wool scratched my breasts as I squirmed back into my narrow navy skirt. Neither pleated nor plaid, it was nonetheless a reasonably good match for his schoolgirl fantasy.

I had just enough time to smooth my hair and turn his sturdy
ladderback
chair towards the door. Joe skidded in from the hall. He scowled at his empty bed, then did a double take to find me dressed. He still wore his socks. God knows why, but he looked sexy as hell with his clean white athletic socks, his long hairy legs, and a hard-on fit to make a tart blanch.

'What are you doing?' he asked.

Fighting an urge to giggle, I wound a curl around my finger and smiled from under my lashes.

'Oh,’ he said,
recognising
the image. A surge of excitement crimsoned his skin from flat, ridged stomach to sweat-beaded forehead. 'Oh, boy.'

I nudged the chair an inch forward. Joe shook himself and stepped closer. He sat slowly, his eyes wide, his breathing shallow, his cock bobbing high. He'd rolled a condom on already; he really didn't want to waste time. He smoothed his hands down his thighs. I glanced towards the door.

It was closed. The mirror on its back caught my eye. Though small, it still held possibilities. Humming one of Joe's melodies, I lifted it off its hook and set it at a tilt on the floor. I stepped backwards until my legs bumped his knees. Yes, we'd be able to see what we were doing -from the waist down, anyway.

A sharp inhalation told me Joe saw our reflection, too.

Without a word to break the spell, he gathered the hem of my skirt and bared my sex. I shifted my legs wider and reached back for the arm of the chair. He cupped my buttocks in his palms, both steadying me and kneading the muscles with lascivious intent.

Smiling, I lowered myself over him, stopping only once to adjust the angle of his penis.

Wet as I was, he slipped in like a charm, thick, meaty, and fantastically hot.

His breath scalded my ear as I engulfed him. He sucked the side of my neck hard enough to leave a mark, then crooked his chin over my shoulder to watch the image of our union.

His hands caressed my thighs, my belly, then
centred
on my
mons
. He pulled my labia back to expose the disappearance of his root into my body. The blade of my clit stood out sharply between his fingers and the pink convolutions of my sex glistened with secretions, visibly quivering as my body tried to pull him deeper. He exhaled softly and traced my stretched inner lips with one finger. His scrotum darkened.

'If I don't get deeper, I'll die,' he said.

He jerked his legs to the edges of the chair, widening my thighs in the process. I arched my spine. His cock slid a half-inch further. We both convulsed with a sharp throb of lust.

'Now,’ he whispered, thrusting his second arm under my borrowed sweater. 'Move with me, sweetheart.'

He banded his arm beneath my breasts and lifted me, grunting with effort and longing before easing me back. I gripped both chair arms to help him, pushing up and sinking down. We found our rhythm and hastened it, all the while watching in the mirror the age-old in and out, the hungry tensing of our thighs, the ecstatic curling of our toes.

His angle of entry felt incredible. Every stroke compressed some sweet spot I hadn't known I had. I began to groan with pleasure, which made him shiver and swell. His arm tightened on my ribs. Almost before I knew it, he bore my full weight.

'Oh, man, I'm close,’ he said. I couldn't believe how strong he was. Every motion was perfectly controlled and intense. He hit that sweet spot with the sleek, hot hammer of his cock until all that kept me from shattering was force of will.

I cried out, feeling him stretch inside me, feeling his thighs go rigid beneath my legs.

'Now,’ he groaned, shoving upward with all his might. 'Come, baby, please.' But I was already there.

We climaxed as one, a rich explosion of sensation. Every time he jerked, darts of fierce, sweet pleasure showered me from his cock, and melted, and flowed like maple syrup through my veins. My neck sagged, my limbs went limp, and still he came. Finally, nothing remained but aftershocks, tiny spasms of sweetness like a ripe burst of fruit.

'Ah,' he sighed, long and low. He shifted me sideways and cradled me. 'Now that was good.'

I kissed his cheek. His self-congratulatory smile had to be the most adorable expression I'd ever seen. How could I not love him? Without warning, tears burnt my eyes.

'Don't worry,
Katycat
.' He hugged my shoulders. 'I know you'll say the words when you're ready.'

If he knew that, he knew a hell of a lot more than I did.

Sean and I took to wandering around the house humming Joe's
favourite
melodies. Sean mangled them worse than I did, but Joe was too flattered to care.

'You like that one?' he'd say, shyly pleased. 'You don't think it's too obvious?'

'No, no,' we'd assure him. 'It's just obvious enough.'